When I was in my second year of University, I worked with a guy named Tim at our local video store. One morning, Tim called in sick, saying that he had the flu and later that day, near the end of my shift, Tim’s Mom called saying that he had been hospitalized and that the doctor’s weren’t expecting him to live through the night. Needless to say, it was very shocking for all of us that knew him.
It turned out that Tim had drank a glass of water that had been sitting out and a form of bacteria that would have normally just given the rest of us an upset stomach, ended up attacking Tim’s heart and he developed an infection. At some point in time throughout the night, Tim was being transported by ambulance from the hospital to the heart institute for further treatment. Tim died on the way there. And then he was revived. He had actually flat lined and was considered clinically dead for close to three minutes before his heart was brought back to life and later treated. Tim’s life is the miracle that so many of us hope for.
When Tim returned to work about a month later, he seemed to be a completely different person. Tim was a writer and poet and had always possessed a very philosophical view of life. He was intense; passionate; joy filled and lived life with great intent. While he certainly had moments of happiness, Tim seemed very sad in the months following his illness. One night, a bunch of us went out for drinks after work and I asked Tim how he was feeling now that his life was starting to go back to normal. He said that he was sad and that he had been sad ever since. He said that everyone in his “life after death” support group had discovered this new found appreciation for the beauty and simplicity of life, and he found himself suffering from a depression that he didn’t quite know how to get himself out of. The world was just a sad place to him now. All I could really do for Tim was listen because in no way could I sympathize with what he was going through but, if I could see Tim now, I would look him in the eye and say “Tim…I understand”.
In no way has the outcome of our recent ordeal in any way compared to what he went through but in the three days since my test results came back…I’ve been sad. While I’ve been beyond grateful for the best possible outcome, I’ve also felt a despair that I haven’t quite been able to shake. I’ve felt sad at the realization of just how fleeting life is and at just how little we truly appreciate the subtle moments that pass us by. It makes my heart hurt to know how much time we spend suffering and struggling at the hands of our ego, our pride, our jealousy.
Death is scary. For most of us, its anticipation makes us shutter and despite our best efforts, it will catch up with all of us eventually. Some sooner than others but either way, we all know in the deepest recesses of our mind, that we are no exception. This is hard…at least for me. Just before Steve and I left to go to the hospital on the night we discovered the lump, I was curled up on the floor of our hallway telling Steve that I wasn’t ready yet; I didn’t want to go to the hospital because I wasn’t ready for our life to change this way yet; I wasn’t ready to go through something like this yet and I wasn’t ready to die yet. As long as I stayed on the floor, this wasn’t happening yet. And that’s what the prospect of death does to a lot of us; it paralyzes us in hopes that if we stay very, very still…so will time.
We all know that it doesn’t work this way though…and yet we still go about life as though it does.
I read once in a book that people who live with autism have a very different awareness of time and its passing. Somehow, they are almost always acutely aware that this moment, this minute, this day is eternally over and that you can never get it back. In turn, they are left with a melancholy from one passing moment after another. It’s left me wondering if perhaps getting bogged down in office politics or worrying about money is a human necessity sometimes…a defense mechanism to keep our world and our perspective small enough that it doesn’t scare us so much? Because the hugeness of our potential and our universe and our mortality can be a really scary place when you let yourself consider it for too long.
Perhaps Tim was pushed too far. Perhaps I was pushed too far. While Tim physically experienced death, I spent ten days mentally lingering in its presence. Perhaps we were both taken to places that we were not yet prepared to venture to and it’s left us with a sadness over how quickly the beauty of our world can slip between our fingers and turn to a grief that none of us are quite prepared for. Some people come out of such experiences living their entire life differently and as odd as this sounds; I don’t want to. I don’t want to because I don’t want to be reminded that I was once crying on the floor pleading with God to spare us this terror. I don’t want to be reminded that a moment changed everything. I don’t want to be reminded that my husband once had to worry about losing his wife…and that I had to see it in his eyes. I don’t want to be reminded that our universe can turn its dials that quickly. I don’t want to be reminded that this whole thing could have turned out very differently.
I’m sure that with a bit of time, I will be restored to my usual, if not better, self. But right now I need to acknowledge the fact that I’ve been shaken too hard and it’s changed something about the way I see the world. A good friend of mine and I were discussing yesterday how living life fully and happily is really a very fine line; it’s a delicate balance between appreciating the fragility of life without waiting for the other shoe to drop. I’ve experienced the other end of the spectrum more than I would have liked as of late and it may take me a little while to find my way back but it’s kind of like what Anna Nalick sings I guess, “You can’t jump the track, we’re like cars on a cable and life’s like an hour glass glued to the table…
…so just breathe.”
Thursday, April 30, 2009
breathe and reboot...
Monday, April 27, 2009
two points for us...
I went for an ultrasound this past weekend to start the process of finding out what our next steps are and let me just say that sitting in a dark and dinging lab office for over an hour (because apparently making an appointment doesn’t actually mean having an appointment!) is less than appealing!
To add insult to injury, the only magazines that were left in the waiting room were Canadian Living Magazines from 1984 and ironically enough, they were all October issues hence every article was geared towards promoting Breast Cancer Awareness Month. So every other page was stories of people living with breast cancer and I couldn’t help but look to the heavens and whisper “Really? Are you kidding me?!?!”
An hour later I went in for my ultrasound and then we walked out into the warm summer air with no more answers than what we went in with. I had a little chat with the technician about our health care system and whether or not our waiting periods affect the survival rate when it comes to cancer. He went on to tell me that I shouldn’t worry about that because cancer is determined by weeks and not by days. Funny though given that I had waited a week for the appointment and would wait another week for the results. I didn’t say anything though since I was lying half naked on a table in front of him while he stared at a big black hole on the screen that brought our life to abrupt halt…I thought it was best to stay on his happy side!
So that was Saturday and today at 3pm I received a call from our doctor’s office to tell me that I don’t have cancer. In fact, I’m perfectly healthy and instead, I have a benign cyst that was masquerading as a tumour. Jerk!
I will have to call my doctor again and ask them to re-read the report because I didn’t really hear much after “you’re okay” but I did manage to catch the last thing she said before hanging up the phone…
“You get to win this one!”
Amen to that!
Sunday, April 26, 2009
a crab of a time...
When I was in grade school, I used to tell everyone that my birthday was on June 18th (when it’s actually on July 18th). I really disliked having my birthday in the summer because for starters, all of my friends were away at summer camp or on family vacations and secondly, because I was one of the only ones in my class that didn’t get a party or my birthday announced on the PA system on the morning of my big day. For a ten year old…it just seemed like the harshest of punishments.
There was another reason though too; I didn’t particularly like being the sign of Cancer. I love the zodiac signs and the mythical beliefs behind them. While I certainly don’t place much worth to daily horoscopes at all, I have found that throughout my life, zodiac signs have been strangely accurate in describing the type of personality that I am along with those that I love. Take what you like from it but, there are certain elements that simply aren’t transferable among individuals and there is no doubt whatsoever that I am, indeed, a Cancer the crab. I didn’t like this though and I still kind of don’t because I don’t like being the only zodiac signed to share the same name as an often times terminal illness. All in all, I wanted to be as far away from cancer, in every form, as I could be.
I have been unforgivably absent from my blog as of late because cancer has been on my mind a lot lately and it’s a surprisingly exhausting thing to think about. My husband and I are waiting to find out if I have breast cancer. Last Thursday was, by far, one of the worst days of my life, as what should have been a seemingly normal evening at home became a panic-stricken trip to the emergency room.
Last week, I found a lump on my left breast and with that, our world flipped up side down and in some ways…came crashing down. Mere minutes after being in the car on the way to the hospital, Steve had to pull over as I threw up on the side of the road. It was really the only thing that my body knew how to do at the time and I continued to throw up for ten consecutive hours after that. The next morning our doctor confirmed the abnormality and was immediately on the phone to find the earliest appointment for an ultrasound and begin the next steps of God knows what.
To be completely honest, I don’t want to be here writing about this. I don’t really feel like I’m ready to be “talking” about it like this and all the while, I’m not prepared to not talk about it either. From the instant I found out, I was determined not to be that story…that unique case of the thirty-year old wife dying of cancer. I wanted to come here after the fact and tell you all about it once it was over. But it’s not over and I don’t know how long it will be until it is and I don’t like waiting and wondering and pondering all by myself. I want this to be a tiny group of entries on this blog that I will look back at one day and think “geez…wasn’t that sucky at the time?!?!”. I say “at the time” because I very much want there to be a time that doesn’t include this; this anxiety; this waiting; this unwelcome visitor in my body.
Right now, we wait. We wait to get the results of the ultrasound; we wait to hear what the doctor is going to say to us from across the room; we wait to see if we are going to breath a sigh of relief or a stop breathing altogether; we wait to see where life is going to go from here. We wait.
We’re optimistic and aside from the obvious presence of something that indicates otherwise, we have every reason to be. We’re optimistic that this will be a slight glitch in our current journey from here to there and we’re optimistic that whatever the outcome is, it will be manageable. There are still moments though in which our minds wander to the darker places and we find our selves staring at the terror that first flashed before us when this whole thing came into being. I think that it’s human nature to consider the worst and for me, it’s nothing short of my worst nightmare.
There is one thing though that my zodiac description has always failed to mention…
Whatever this thing is that’s in my body…it just fucked with the wrong girl…
There was another reason though too; I didn’t particularly like being the sign of Cancer. I love the zodiac signs and the mythical beliefs behind them. While I certainly don’t place much worth to daily horoscopes at all, I have found that throughout my life, zodiac signs have been strangely accurate in describing the type of personality that I am along with those that I love. Take what you like from it but, there are certain elements that simply aren’t transferable among individuals and there is no doubt whatsoever that I am, indeed, a Cancer the crab. I didn’t like this though and I still kind of don’t because I don’t like being the only zodiac signed to share the same name as an often times terminal illness. All in all, I wanted to be as far away from cancer, in every form, as I could be.
I have been unforgivably absent from my blog as of late because cancer has been on my mind a lot lately and it’s a surprisingly exhausting thing to think about. My husband and I are waiting to find out if I have breast cancer. Last Thursday was, by far, one of the worst days of my life, as what should have been a seemingly normal evening at home became a panic-stricken trip to the emergency room.
Last week, I found a lump on my left breast and with that, our world flipped up side down and in some ways…came crashing down. Mere minutes after being in the car on the way to the hospital, Steve had to pull over as I threw up on the side of the road. It was really the only thing that my body knew how to do at the time and I continued to throw up for ten consecutive hours after that. The next morning our doctor confirmed the abnormality and was immediately on the phone to find the earliest appointment for an ultrasound and begin the next steps of God knows what.
To be completely honest, I don’t want to be here writing about this. I don’t really feel like I’m ready to be “talking” about it like this and all the while, I’m not prepared to not talk about it either. From the instant I found out, I was determined not to be that story…that unique case of the thirty-year old wife dying of cancer. I wanted to come here after the fact and tell you all about it once it was over. But it’s not over and I don’t know how long it will be until it is and I don’t like waiting and wondering and pondering all by myself. I want this to be a tiny group of entries on this blog that I will look back at one day and think “geez…wasn’t that sucky at the time?!?!”. I say “at the time” because I very much want there to be a time that doesn’t include this; this anxiety; this waiting; this unwelcome visitor in my body.
Right now, we wait. We wait to get the results of the ultrasound; we wait to hear what the doctor is going to say to us from across the room; we wait to see if we are going to breath a sigh of relief or a stop breathing altogether; we wait to see where life is going to go from here. We wait.
We’re optimistic and aside from the obvious presence of something that indicates otherwise, we have every reason to be. We’re optimistic that this will be a slight glitch in our current journey from here to there and we’re optimistic that whatever the outcome is, it will be manageable. There are still moments though in which our minds wander to the darker places and we find our selves staring at the terror that first flashed before us when this whole thing came into being. I think that it’s human nature to consider the worst and for me, it’s nothing short of my worst nightmare.
There is one thing though that my zodiac description has always failed to mention…
Whatever this thing is that’s in my body…it just fucked with the wrong girl…
Monday, April 20, 2009
the sound of music...
I would be so much less opposed to public transit
if this happened more often!!!
if this happened more often!!!
Thursday, April 16, 2009
it's almost time...
On this very day last year, Steve and I were in Australia! It seems funny to say that now as a part of my past experiences, especially given how much time we spent preparing for it. But that’s how it goes…we slowly went from “I want to visit Australia one day” to “I’ve swam with a sea turtle in Australia!!” It’s funny how that happens.
I remember how Steve and I were so excited to come home and settle in to our new house and our new routine. The beginning of the year had been so full of new things that we were very much looking forward to spending the second half of the year living the boring suburban life! Even after our return, we found ourselves adjusting to more changes; new pets, new jobs, new colleagues. There just seemed that there was no end to the transitions in our life. By the time everything did settle down, we were so tired that all we could do was let ourselves hibernate alongside the cold weather and hope for the best! We discovered that the decline from that much change is seldom ever subtle. While we had visions of “coming down” gradually, the universe had an entirely different plan!!!
Summer is back though! It’s 16 degrees here in Ottawa today (that’s 60.8 degrees for you Jim!!!!) and you can just feel the warmth approaching! That means that we officially have a second chance to relish in the island of summer that we missed last year due to relentless fatigue! In honour of the first true summer day of the year, I’ve taken it upon myself to declare 2009 the summer of Gen! I don’t mean it in a “summer of Gen and no one else” kind of thing…more so a “summer of all the things that Gen wants to do and hasn’t done during summers past”. I want to spend the summer relaxing and reading…getting a tan and doing yoga…drinking slushy drinks and eating peaches every day! That’s not too much to ask, is it?!?!
Our summers always seem to be so busy in the flurry of the few nice months that we experience in this end of the province that they tend to be gone before they even get started. So far, we’ve managed not to make too many plans for the summer other than some travelling to visit friends and family. And although I have class twice a week, school will be done in early July…just in time to park myself on a park bench with a Jane Austen book in one hand and a frozen drink in the other…!!!
I’m already luxuriating in the loveliness of it all!!! Any one care to join me?!?! There’s plenty of room on my park bench!!
Sunday, April 12, 2009
Thursday, April 09, 2009
fifteen:fifty-one...
So I've been getting threats lately! That's right...THREATS!
People have been threatening me within an inch of my life if I even consider the prospect of leaving writing for photography (seriously...I always took you as more of a pacifist!!). I've been told under no uncertain terms that photography is all well and dandy...just as long as the blog doesn't take a back seat! It's nice to see who's really in control here!!
Well, I'm sure that you've noticed that the neglect has begun and believe me when I say that I've been getting an earful about it! So, in the name of keeping the peace...I'm willing to offer a compromise...
A photo blog!
Now before you get all up in a knot, let me first announce that Fifteen:Fifty-One Photography has officially gone live! My private passion has been "outed" and what was once a personal affair is...well...not anymore! The pictures need their own home now and since I wouldn't dream of abandoning you, Fifteen:Fifty-One {the blog}, is now up and running! I also have a group on Facebook and the official website should be ready in the coming weeks.
I'll admit that it's all a little bit scary and I will take all the encouragement I can get! Having my pictures here...in my own little corner of cyberspace is one thing. Having them "out there"...is a bit terrifying! So please be gentle!!!
So I may not be here quite as often but the story telling will continue...and hopefully, some pretty pictures to go with it!!
Join me...bookmark me...visit me. I could use the company ;)
People have been threatening me within an inch of my life if I even consider the prospect of leaving writing for photography (seriously...I always took you as more of a pacifist!!). I've been told under no uncertain terms that photography is all well and dandy...just as long as the blog doesn't take a back seat! It's nice to see who's really in control here!!
Well, I'm sure that you've noticed that the neglect has begun and believe me when I say that I've been getting an earful about it! So, in the name of keeping the peace...I'm willing to offer a compromise...
A photo blog!
Now before you get all up in a knot, let me first announce that Fifteen:Fifty-One Photography has officially gone live! My private passion has been "outed" and what was once a personal affair is...well...not anymore! The pictures need their own home now and since I wouldn't dream of abandoning you, Fifteen:Fifty-One {the blog}, is now up and running! I also have a group on Facebook and the official website should be ready in the coming weeks.
I'll admit that it's all a little bit scary and I will take all the encouragement I can get! Having my pictures here...in my own little corner of cyberspace is one thing. Having them "out there"...is a bit terrifying! So please be gentle!!!
So I may not be here quite as often but the story telling will continue...and hopefully, some pretty pictures to go with it!!
Join me...bookmark me...visit me. I could use the company ;)
Tuesday, April 07, 2009
hot pink dreams...
I’ve been meaning to blog for a few days now but every time I get here, I find myself with writer’s block! Too much has been happening and none of it makes enough sense to write about…yet!
I do have some fun news to share though; my fancy pants designer, Jamie McGlashan, has recently given me the final art work for my new business card! I’ve only ever had two business cards in my life…both left much to be desired, not only in design but in their significance to my life! I’ll admit that it was pretty exciting to have my first business card but this new one isn’t just a business card…it’s my new direction…my new endeavor…my new leap of faith…my new found bravery that arose from an otherwise tumultuous situation.
This is the business card for my soon to be photography company…
I do have some fun news to share though; my fancy pants designer, Jamie McGlashan, has recently given me the final art work for my new business card! I’ve only ever had two business cards in my life…both left much to be desired, not only in design but in their significance to my life! I’ll admit that it was pretty exciting to have my first business card but this new one isn’t just a business card…it’s my new direction…my new endeavor…my new leap of faith…my new found bravery that arose from an otherwise tumultuous situation.
This is the business card for my soon to be photography company…
Isn't she beautiful...?!?!?!
Thursday, April 02, 2009
lady in waiting...
Fear is such a funny thing. I wouldn’t say that I’m afraid of a lot of things but the few things that I am afraid of…I’m deeply afraid of them! Thunderstorms, cancer, the colour yellow…you know, all of the perfectly normal and logical things to fear in life!! Generally speaking, when I’m afraid of something, I just avoid it; I avoid thinking about it, I avoid learning about it and most of all, I certainly avoid confronting it. Not to say that this is the healthy way of managing fear (I’m sure that most psychologist would agree) but I won’t lie…it works for me and you know what they say; “if it ain’t broke…”
There is the odd occasion though, from time to time, when I’m motivated to swallow my fear, take a deep breath and move forward in spite of it. It’s rare but this past weekend was one of them!
One of my good friends is expecting her second child in May and she asked me if I would come over and take some pictures of her and her family before their newest addition arrives. At first thought, I glimmered at the idea of taking pictures for them…but that was before she suggested taking them at her house!! This is the moment in which my irrational fear of indoor photography grabbed hold of me and went directly for the jugular!!! There is certainly no hiding my fear of indoor photography; artificial light can be so daunting and unpredictable, and can often leave you with some pretty mortifying results to show for it {insert dark shadows due to poor angles here!!!} but…there is also no hiding the fact that this is one of my most favourite families in the entire world and there are few things as flattering as being asked to photograph them together as they anticipate the new miracle entering their lives.
So I did it! I walked into their house, bad lighting and all, told my fear to take a hike for a few hours and did my very best to do justice to this fabulous family. And what a family they are…we had so much fun hanging out in the baby’s room, playing with blocks and of course, learning that it pays to tackle your fears head on… even if it is only for a couple of hours!
There is the odd occasion though, from time to time, when I’m motivated to swallow my fear, take a deep breath and move forward in spite of it. It’s rare but this past weekend was one of them!
One of my good friends is expecting her second child in May and she asked me if I would come over and take some pictures of her and her family before their newest addition arrives. At first thought, I glimmered at the idea of taking pictures for them…but that was before she suggested taking them at her house!! This is the moment in which my irrational fear of indoor photography grabbed hold of me and went directly for the jugular!!! There is certainly no hiding my fear of indoor photography; artificial light can be so daunting and unpredictable, and can often leave you with some pretty mortifying results to show for it {insert dark shadows due to poor angles here!!!} but…there is also no hiding the fact that this is one of my most favourite families in the entire world and there are few things as flattering as being asked to photograph them together as they anticipate the new miracle entering their lives.
So I did it! I walked into their house, bad lighting and all, told my fear to take a hike for a few hours and did my very best to do justice to this fabulous family. And what a family they are…we had so much fun hanging out in the baby’s room, playing with blocks and of course, learning that it pays to tackle your fears head on… even if it is only for a couple of hours!
Monday, March 30, 2009
the single moment...
I remember many years ago looking at a National Geographic magazine and one of the photographs was an award winning image taken in Ethiopia. It was part of a collection intended to profile those enduring the famines in Africa. It was sad.
This picture in particular was of a small child that had been on route to a shelter and collapsed part way. Curled up in the fetal position, the child just laid there naked on the cracked, dry soil while vultures flew up above and waited for him to die. I remember thinking how devastating it must have been for that photographer to watch this moment…to be a part of this moment…to capture this moment.
It compelled me to read up on the photographer a bit and as it turned out, the photographers on site were actually given very strict orders not to touch any of the children as their immune systems were so depleted that even the most harmless of our germs could cause serious illness. It broke my heart to read it and without a doubt, it was even more excruciating to witness in person. The photograph ended up winning one of the world’s most prestigious awards and shortly there after, the photographer killed himself. The guilt and grief of having to watch this child die was more than his soul could handle.
I remember telling myself afterwards that if I were ever so privileged as to capture moments that intimate…I would pray that God would let them be moments of joy instead. As I take more pictures, I also realize a bit more that there are moments in which I feel I should look away; moments that seem too private for me to be seeing them through a lens. That being said though…those are also the moments that make being there such a gift…being there to take a split second and turn it into something eternal. That is why I love photography.
That is also why I love this picture that I captured of my dear friend and her daughter over the weekend; what an honour to be present during this brief moment…
This picture in particular was of a small child that had been on route to a shelter and collapsed part way. Curled up in the fetal position, the child just laid there naked on the cracked, dry soil while vultures flew up above and waited for him to die. I remember thinking how devastating it must have been for that photographer to watch this moment…to be a part of this moment…to capture this moment.
It compelled me to read up on the photographer a bit and as it turned out, the photographers on site were actually given very strict orders not to touch any of the children as their immune systems were so depleted that even the most harmless of our germs could cause serious illness. It broke my heart to read it and without a doubt, it was even more excruciating to witness in person. The photograph ended up winning one of the world’s most prestigious awards and shortly there after, the photographer killed himself. The guilt and grief of having to watch this child die was more than his soul could handle.
I remember telling myself afterwards that if I were ever so privileged as to capture moments that intimate…I would pray that God would let them be moments of joy instead. As I take more pictures, I also realize a bit more that there are moments in which I feel I should look away; moments that seem too private for me to be seeing them through a lens. That being said though…those are also the moments that make being there such a gift…being there to take a split second and turn it into something eternal. That is why I love photography.
That is also why I love this picture that I captured of my dear friend and her daughter over the weekend; what an honour to be present during this brief moment…
Thursday, March 26, 2009
caught in the act...
I was working on my photography website yesterday (did I mention that I was creating one? It will soon be here!), and as I was playing around with the design of the “about me” page, I realized that I didn’t have any good pictures of me with a camera! That’s kind of the thing with being the photographer…you’re generally behind the camera!
Low and behold though, Christina sent these to me this morning; “action shots” from our weekend in Toronto! Talk about aiming to please!!
{Christina…I would also like a million dollars!}
So here they are…the first shots of me getting down and dirty for my craft! It’s such a hard life being surrounded by beautiful people…
Low and behold though, Christina sent these to me this morning; “action shots” from our weekend in Toronto! Talk about aiming to please!!
{Christina…I would also like a million dollars!}
So here they are…the first shots of me getting down and dirty for my craft! It’s such a hard life being surrounded by beautiful people…
Monday, March 23, 2009
a day at the distillery...
Toronto; an economic powerhouse for our country; our provincial capital; a tourist hotspot and despite having spent quite a bit of time there when I was young, it’s also a city that I’m not a big fan of! We used to travel there often when I was a little girl to visit family and even now, decades later, I still feel the same way; too big, too busy, too many people who should be in anger management classes instead of behind the wheel! That being said, I’ve driven through it…but seldom ever send a postcard!
I have a problem now though…over the past years, months, days…the city has taken a number of the people that I love hostage!!! Whether it be due to family, work or a combination of the two, one by one, they are being plucked from me and taken to Toronto!! And because I love my friends more than I dislike Toronto, I felt that it was time for a little truce!!!!
So this past weekend, I packed up our car and made the four hour drive to visit my nearest and dearest! Because there were so many of us coming from different directions, the big question was “what do we do for the one afternoon that we have together?” Our question was easily answered by suggesting a meeting place in Toronto’s historic Distillery District where all of my friends could play dress up for me and I could spend hours in one of my favourite places…behind the camera!
So we met up at Balzac’s with coffee in hand, ready to make our few hours together rock; Olivia and Josh melted my heart (it wouldn’t be the first time!); Christina and Jason reminded me of how much fun it is to photograph true love; Joanne was her usual stunning self and even though she was plagued with a rotten cold, Sara still made it out to offer her moral support!
Bottom line; my friends are amazing! Some people may make more money than me, have a bigger house than me or have nicer clothes than me…but they don’t have my friends and frankly, they are about as good as they get and so worth braving Toronto traffic for!
Needless to say that an afternoon together just wasn’t enough but thankfully, 325 raw files and four hours of post-production later...we do find ourselves with a little something to remember it by…
Tuesday, March 17, 2009
Monday, March 16, 2009
haunted...
Do you believe in ghosts?
I know that we’ve all sat around campfires in our younger days scaring ourselves out of our wits telling urban legends about flesh eating neighbors living under our beds. But now that we’re all a little bit older and wiser, where do we all stand on the whole “spirits lurking among us” thing?!?!
When I was about fifteen years old, I spent my summer at ranch just outside of London. As a counselor in training that year, I had spent nearly two and half months doing everything from kitchen duty, riding instructor and of course, camp counselor for the hundreds of kids that came to stay with us in the woods for weeks at a time.
The ranch was set on 220 acres of land, including wooded areas and cornfields. Each camping area was tucked away in different parts of the ranch to give each group a more private setting once group events were over. There was no doubt that once the sun went down, the ranch was a scary place! Without the light pollution radiating from the city, the ranch was very dark at night and no amount of flashlights ever seemed to make it better!
One night in early August, I was co-counseling a group of eleven year-old girls for two weeks. Each of us counselors were required, throughout each camp session, to take turns monitoring the sites after dark. The girl’s site was the closest to the camp lodge but still far enough away that it would give you a run for your money if you needed to use the washroom in the middle of night. Our site, unlike most of the others, was protected by the shelter of enormous maple trees that had a small clearing just in the middle of them. While this provided a welcome canopy during the rainy days of summer, it also made the perfect home for the many things that go bump in the night. The nocturnal happenings of the woods were certainly more alive under the trees and became one of the scariest places that I endured during my childhood!
Late one night while I happen to be on monitoring duty, another counselor came back to their tent to call it a night. Given that it was going to take her a couple of minutes to settle in, I asked her if she would mind taking over for me while I ran to the lodge to use the washroom and grab a drink. So, flashlight in hand, I took a deep breath and made my way through the dark woods to the lodge. Every step that I took made the leaves and branches crinkle under my feet and my heart start beating a little faster. It was impossible to get around the site without perpetually thinking that someone was trailing close behind you (and, if my imagination had anything to do with it, it was almost always someone of the “knife-wielding-camp-counselor-abducting” disposition!).
Ten minutes later, I arrived back at the site unharmed and unwilling to return to the lodge regardless of how much my bladder needed it! I quickly went to my co-counselor’s tent to let her know that I had returned and that she was free to peacefully head off to dreamland for the night. Just as I about to pull back the thick canvas flap of her tent, I was startled by a young girl standing right next to me in front of the tent. She was young…too young (maybe eight years-old or so), with long dark hair, extremely sad eyes and a long white night gown nearly reaching the ground. I looked over at her, puzzled as to how she could have sneaked up on me so unexpectedly, and quietly said to her “stay here for one second and I’ll take you back to your tent”.
Desperately wanting to return the little girl to her bed, I quickly poked my head in the tent to let my colleague know that I returned and no more than ten seconds later, I closed the tent flap, turned to take the little girl’s hand and realized that she was gone. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around and there was no sight of her. I hadn’t heard her move or enter her tent. She was just…gone.
I didn’t think too much of it at the time but the next morning, as I looked around at the campers during breakfast, I noticed that there wasn’t anyone bearing the same resemblance as her. No one with long, dark hair like hers and certainly no one that looked that young. When I asked around to other counselors, no one remembers any of their campers having any white, frilly nightgowns either. In fact, the standard response was “who would send their kid to camp with something like that anyways?!?!”
Good question. I would have said the same thing myself had I not seen it with my own eyes.
I’ll admit, my eyes could have playing tricks on me and it might not have been real. But it felt real and my brain thought it was real enough for me to actually speak to whatever it was that I was looking at. I’ll also admit that maybe there was in fact a little girl standing there and that in the light of day, every thing just looked different. I honestly don’t know. All I know is that even now, fifteen years later, I still think about it, still believe it and most certainly…still get a little weary of little girls in white dresses!!!
I know that we’ve all sat around campfires in our younger days scaring ourselves out of our wits telling urban legends about flesh eating neighbors living under our beds. But now that we’re all a little bit older and wiser, where do we all stand on the whole “spirits lurking among us” thing?!?!
When I was about fifteen years old, I spent my summer at ranch just outside of London. As a counselor in training that year, I had spent nearly two and half months doing everything from kitchen duty, riding instructor and of course, camp counselor for the hundreds of kids that came to stay with us in the woods for weeks at a time.
The ranch was set on 220 acres of land, including wooded areas and cornfields. Each camping area was tucked away in different parts of the ranch to give each group a more private setting once group events were over. There was no doubt that once the sun went down, the ranch was a scary place! Without the light pollution radiating from the city, the ranch was very dark at night and no amount of flashlights ever seemed to make it better!
One night in early August, I was co-counseling a group of eleven year-old girls for two weeks. Each of us counselors were required, throughout each camp session, to take turns monitoring the sites after dark. The girl’s site was the closest to the camp lodge but still far enough away that it would give you a run for your money if you needed to use the washroom in the middle of night. Our site, unlike most of the others, was protected by the shelter of enormous maple trees that had a small clearing just in the middle of them. While this provided a welcome canopy during the rainy days of summer, it also made the perfect home for the many things that go bump in the night. The nocturnal happenings of the woods were certainly more alive under the trees and became one of the scariest places that I endured during my childhood!
Late one night while I happen to be on monitoring duty, another counselor came back to their tent to call it a night. Given that it was going to take her a couple of minutes to settle in, I asked her if she would mind taking over for me while I ran to the lodge to use the washroom and grab a drink. So, flashlight in hand, I took a deep breath and made my way through the dark woods to the lodge. Every step that I took made the leaves and branches crinkle under my feet and my heart start beating a little faster. It was impossible to get around the site without perpetually thinking that someone was trailing close behind you (and, if my imagination had anything to do with it, it was almost always someone of the “knife-wielding-camp-counselor-abducting” disposition!).
Ten minutes later, I arrived back at the site unharmed and unwilling to return to the lodge regardless of how much my bladder needed it! I quickly went to my co-counselor’s tent to let her know that I had returned and that she was free to peacefully head off to dreamland for the night. Just as I about to pull back the thick canvas flap of her tent, I was startled by a young girl standing right next to me in front of the tent. She was young…too young (maybe eight years-old or so), with long dark hair, extremely sad eyes and a long white night gown nearly reaching the ground. I looked over at her, puzzled as to how she could have sneaked up on me so unexpectedly, and quietly said to her “stay here for one second and I’ll take you back to your tent”.
Desperately wanting to return the little girl to her bed, I quickly poked my head in the tent to let my colleague know that I returned and no more than ten seconds later, I closed the tent flap, turned to take the little girl’s hand and realized that she was gone. She was nowhere to be seen. I glanced around and there was no sight of her. I hadn’t heard her move or enter her tent. She was just…gone.
I didn’t think too much of it at the time but the next morning, as I looked around at the campers during breakfast, I noticed that there wasn’t anyone bearing the same resemblance as her. No one with long, dark hair like hers and certainly no one that looked that young. When I asked around to other counselors, no one remembers any of their campers having any white, frilly nightgowns either. In fact, the standard response was “who would send their kid to camp with something like that anyways?!?!”
Good question. I would have said the same thing myself had I not seen it with my own eyes.
I’ll admit, my eyes could have playing tricks on me and it might not have been real. But it felt real and my brain thought it was real enough for me to actually speak to whatever it was that I was looking at. I’ll also admit that maybe there was in fact a little girl standing there and that in the light of day, every thing just looked different. I honestly don’t know. All I know is that even now, fifteen years later, I still think about it, still believe it and most certainly…still get a little weary of little girls in white dresses!!!
Friday, March 13, 2009
strategic planning...
I’ve been emailing a bit with an old friend of mine from Toronto lately and we’ve been chatting a lot about the transitions of life; the crossroads that we unexpectedly find ourselves at and the options that those crossroads end up leaving us with. In the midst of it all, we’ve found ourselves discussing a lot about what we would like to do and who we would like to become.
I’ve been raised in an environment that is big on “five year plans”. We’ve always been looking ahead, dreaming big and planning ourselves into oblivion...and I’m certainly no exception! I’ve always believed that this is an incredibly important thing to teach young people because an adolescent’s inability to have foresight can end up being a rather inescapable trap later in life (just ask the $10,000 that I spent in three months during my first semester at university!). It’s important to have vision and to see the possibilities of your life…I think in a lot of instances it’s what gets many of us through the day. It sounds cynical but we are a society of planners and many of us live our lives doing nothing but planning! We plan vacations and investments, weddings and family, weekends and retirement. And not only is this not a bad thing but in many ways, it’s a necessary thing. But when exactly do we cross over from planning our lives to outright living our lives waiting and anticipation?
The more my friend and I discussed our future goals and our long term vision, the more I wondered if my constant need to plan is in some ways a detriment to my present fulfillment? In recent years especially, I’ve been working at redefining my life in many ways and much of that involves a great deal of change on my part. Change is good and in my case, change was life saving but I think I’m realizing that there’s also something to be said for acknowledging your present circumstances.
As I write this I recognize the irony of the fact that I expect those that I share my life with to accept me the way I am…so why shouldn’t I do the same? Perhaps the pursuit of betterment is best achieved by embracing where you currently reside in life in order to better appreciate where you are going.
Having said this, maybe it’s okay that I’m no longer in marathon shape or that I don’t think I’m suited to sitting at a computer all day long. Maybe it’s okay that I love my morning coffee and that the colour yellow scares me. Maybe it’s okay that I look (and feel!) more tired than I would like to and maybe it’s okay to be overwhelmed by my current learning curve. Maybe it’s okay that I love Cadbury mini eggs and don’t like purple foods (except purple mini eggs!). Maybe it’s okay that I love watching reruns of Sex & the City and don’t fully comprehend the problems of the world. Maybe it’s okay that I don’t understand why our remote control has to have so many buttons and I think math is hard. Maybe it’s okay that I’m moved by beautiful things and that I often judge a book by its cover (literally!). Maybe it’s okay that I still want to do great things with my life and it’s okay to think that I already have. Maybe it’s okay to not like flying over the ocean and it’s okay to enjoy playing with fire (but it’s not okay to do so in the house!). Maybe it’s okay that I didn’t survive the entire season of Lent and maybe it’s okay that I never really wanted to to begin with. Maybe it’s okay that I wish music played in the background every time I walked outside. Maybe it’s okay that I don’t like to get dirty but I like to leave my clothes on the floor. Maybe it’s okay for me to feel insecure sometimes and to want to be different. Maybe it’s okay to be torn between faith and religion and it’s okay to ask why. Maybe it’s okay to wish you were here and wonder why you’re not. Maybe it’s okay for me to believe in magic, miracles and astrology all at the same time.
And maybe…just maybe…in order for me to become the me that I want to be tomorrow…I need to embrace the me that I am today.
I’ve been raised in an environment that is big on “five year plans”. We’ve always been looking ahead, dreaming big and planning ourselves into oblivion...and I’m certainly no exception! I’ve always believed that this is an incredibly important thing to teach young people because an adolescent’s inability to have foresight can end up being a rather inescapable trap later in life (just ask the $10,000 that I spent in three months during my first semester at university!). It’s important to have vision and to see the possibilities of your life…I think in a lot of instances it’s what gets many of us through the day. It sounds cynical but we are a society of planners and many of us live our lives doing nothing but planning! We plan vacations and investments, weddings and family, weekends and retirement. And not only is this not a bad thing but in many ways, it’s a necessary thing. But when exactly do we cross over from planning our lives to outright living our lives waiting and anticipation?
The more my friend and I discussed our future goals and our long term vision, the more I wondered if my constant need to plan is in some ways a detriment to my present fulfillment? In recent years especially, I’ve been working at redefining my life in many ways and much of that involves a great deal of change on my part. Change is good and in my case, change was life saving but I think I’m realizing that there’s also something to be said for acknowledging your present circumstances.
As I write this I recognize the irony of the fact that I expect those that I share my life with to accept me the way I am…so why shouldn’t I do the same? Perhaps the pursuit of betterment is best achieved by embracing where you currently reside in life in order to better appreciate where you are going.
Having said this, maybe it’s okay that I’m no longer in marathon shape or that I don’t think I’m suited to sitting at a computer all day long. Maybe it’s okay that I love my morning coffee and that the colour yellow scares me. Maybe it’s okay that I look (and feel!) more tired than I would like to and maybe it’s okay to be overwhelmed by my current learning curve. Maybe it’s okay that I love Cadbury mini eggs and don’t like purple foods (except purple mini eggs!). Maybe it’s okay that I love watching reruns of Sex & the City and don’t fully comprehend the problems of the world. Maybe it’s okay that I don’t understand why our remote control has to have so many buttons and I think math is hard. Maybe it’s okay that I’m moved by beautiful things and that I often judge a book by its cover (literally!). Maybe it’s okay that I still want to do great things with my life and it’s okay to think that I already have. Maybe it’s okay to not like flying over the ocean and it’s okay to enjoy playing with fire (but it’s not okay to do so in the house!). Maybe it’s okay that I didn’t survive the entire season of Lent and maybe it’s okay that I never really wanted to to begin with. Maybe it’s okay that I wish music played in the background every time I walked outside. Maybe it’s okay that I don’t like to get dirty but I like to leave my clothes on the floor. Maybe it’s okay for me to feel insecure sometimes and to want to be different. Maybe it’s okay to be torn between faith and religion and it’s okay to ask why. Maybe it’s okay to wish you were here and wonder why you’re not. Maybe it’s okay for me to believe in magic, miracles and astrology all at the same time.
And maybe…just maybe…in order for me to become the me that I want to be tomorrow…I need to embrace the me that I am today.
Wednesday, March 11, 2009
in conclusion...
I’ve decided that giving up coffee for Lent is stupid!
What was I thinking? Seriously…
The world is in no way a better place because I don’t have a peppermint mocha in my hand.
Honestly…who came up with this crappy idea in the first place?!?!
Feel free to judge my lack of discipline if you like but frankly...what's good for my mental health is, by default, good for your mental health!!!
Monday, March 09, 2009
let's get it on...
I was going through some old cds a few weekends ago and came upon a mix that a guy had once made for me back in the day! I actually remember getting it in the mail one afternoon at work with a little note attached to it that said “Will you have dinner with me on Friday night?”
I had met him at a bar the previous weekend while out with some friends and we started talking about music. Somehow, our conversation shifted to a debate about what constitutes the very best “make-out music”. I voted for rock music and he argued melodic R&B tunes were the only way to go. Three days later, he pleaded his case with an invitation to dinner! I’ll admit…it was such a cute approach and it’s very possible that he may have slightly won me over in the end!
Coming across his cd recently sparked the question in my mind again. I still think that rock music prevails when it comes to making out but there’s also no denying that some people’s clothes seem to spontaneously vanish just listening to Marvin Gaye (he's just that good!)! And so I wonder…what are the ultimate make-out songs??
I wondered so much in fact that I felt compelled to create my own top ten list of make-out songs! Feel free to use it anytime if you’re thinking of asking someone out for dinner!!!
I had met him at a bar the previous weekend while out with some friends and we started talking about music. Somehow, our conversation shifted to a debate about what constitutes the very best “make-out music”. I voted for rock music and he argued melodic R&B tunes were the only way to go. Three days later, he pleaded his case with an invitation to dinner! I’ll admit…it was such a cute approach and it’s very possible that he may have slightly won me over in the end!
Coming across his cd recently sparked the question in my mind again. I still think that rock music prevails when it comes to making out but there’s also no denying that some people’s clothes seem to spontaneously vanish just listening to Marvin Gaye (he's just that good!)! And so I wonder…what are the ultimate make-out songs??
I wondered so much in fact that I felt compelled to create my own top ten list of make-out songs! Feel free to use it anytime if you’re thinking of asking someone out for dinner!!!
In no particular order…
1. Witness by Sarah McLachlan
2. Disarm by The Smashing Pumpkins
3. Creep by Stone Temple Pilots
4. Destiny by Zero Seven
5. Breakdown by Seether
6. With or Without You by U2
7. The Red by Chevelle
8. It’s Been Awhile by Staind
9. Save Yourself by Sensefield
10. Soul to Squeeze by Red Hot Chili Peppers
Sunday, March 08, 2009
my helium...
I’m starting to wonder if I’m in the wrong line of work!
A while back (a long while!), I wrote a post about how I joined the online writer’s network called Helium. It’s a place for writers to go, submit their work and have it rated by their peers. All pieces are anonymously and randomly rated within the category that it was submitted to and other writers can comment as they rate. It’s really a great tool for receiving objective feedback about your craft.
The best part is that Helium is also used as a marketplace for publishers who don’t want to wait for submissions. Writers are “classified” based on their writing statistics (which is determined by your overall ratings) and this enables publishers to browse articles classified by any number of calibers. It’s truly a very intricate and incredibly large network of critiquing that allows writers to determine which of their peers they feel have the most merit. I always find myself feeling a little bit bad when I rate someone’s work because as far as I’m concerned, just contributing to the craft earns merit in and of itself.
So, after submitting my initial two articles to Helium, I got distracted by life and didn’t really end up going back. A couple of weeks ago I decided to dust off my username and jump back into the game. In turn, I felt ambitious and submitted another ten articles!
I think that I should take this opportunity to mention that I don’t really enjoy criticism very much!!! While some people go out of their way to receive feedback on their contributions to the world…I prefer to go on the basis of “no news is good news!” So the idea of submitting work for the sole purpose of it being critiqued does leave me in a frenzy of anxiety!! Every time I type in my password to log onto my account, my heart starts beating a little faster, the breath quickens and I find myself wondering why exactly I ever thought that this was a good idea!
I braved all of my physiological responses yesterday though and logged back on to my account. As it turns out, the gods of “pick one or the other” seemed to be in my favour and it appears that I may have missed my calling; not only have my articles been really well received by my peers but three of them have been ranked as the top article in their category (two of those being book reviews!)!
Yesterday’s blog post is ranked second as of this morning and this article is currently ranked 5th out of 105 submitted articles. And if that weren’t enough…I’ve been named as one of Helium’s Premium Writers, the highest honour given to Helium writers for visiting publishers searching the marketplace.
I’ve never actually submitted any work for publication before but I’m starting to wonder if it might be worth my while to do so!
It would be like sweet retribution for all the times that no one wanted me on their team for trivial pursuit!!!
A while back (a long while!), I wrote a post about how I joined the online writer’s network called Helium. It’s a place for writers to go, submit their work and have it rated by their peers. All pieces are anonymously and randomly rated within the category that it was submitted to and other writers can comment as they rate. It’s really a great tool for receiving objective feedback about your craft.
The best part is that Helium is also used as a marketplace for publishers who don’t want to wait for submissions. Writers are “classified” based on their writing statistics (which is determined by your overall ratings) and this enables publishers to browse articles classified by any number of calibers. It’s truly a very intricate and incredibly large network of critiquing that allows writers to determine which of their peers they feel have the most merit. I always find myself feeling a little bit bad when I rate someone’s work because as far as I’m concerned, just contributing to the craft earns merit in and of itself.
So, after submitting my initial two articles to Helium, I got distracted by life and didn’t really end up going back. A couple of weeks ago I decided to dust off my username and jump back into the game. In turn, I felt ambitious and submitted another ten articles!
I think that I should take this opportunity to mention that I don’t really enjoy criticism very much!!! While some people go out of their way to receive feedback on their contributions to the world…I prefer to go on the basis of “no news is good news!” So the idea of submitting work for the sole purpose of it being critiqued does leave me in a frenzy of anxiety!! Every time I type in my password to log onto my account, my heart starts beating a little faster, the breath quickens and I find myself wondering why exactly I ever thought that this was a good idea!
I braved all of my physiological responses yesterday though and logged back on to my account. As it turns out, the gods of “pick one or the other” seemed to be in my favour and it appears that I may have missed my calling; not only have my articles been really well received by my peers but three of them have been ranked as the top article in their category (two of those being book reviews!)!
Yesterday’s blog post is ranked second as of this morning and this article is currently ranked 5th out of 105 submitted articles. And if that weren’t enough…I’ve been named as one of Helium’s Premium Writers, the highest honour given to Helium writers for visiting publishers searching the marketplace.
I’ve never actually submitted any work for publication before but I’m starting to wonder if it might be worth my while to do so!
It would be like sweet retribution for all the times that no one wanted me on their team for trivial pursuit!!!
Thursday, March 05, 2009
breaking up is hard to do...
Last night, on our way home from work, we were listening to the radio when some commercial came on for a local company. The name of the company was also the last name of a guy that I dated back in University so I couldn’t help but wonder how he was doing. We hadn’t really seen each other since we stopped dating so I had no idea what he had been up to for the past decade. In this day and age, the first obvious place to look was facebook and sure enough, there he was, skydiving in his profile picture!!
Needless to say that it was a lot of fun catching up on his life in recent years. It’s equally hard to believe that this was a guy I met at a restaurant one day who ended up bringing me a dozen roses…a guy that I had to write theories of communications papers with and whose phone calls gave me butterflies. Now, here I was looking at pictures of his daughter (who, might I add, is among the most stunning little girls that I’ve ever seen!) and sharing stories of our weddings. My, how we’ve grown!
Catching up with him kind of made me think of how similar facebook is to the real world of dating in some ways; it’s our social resume for the new generation! Kind of like when he and I first started dating, facebook is about showing our best side to the world; it’s a tally of our best pictures, golden moments, glowing achievements and of course, visual proof of our social acceptance in the world (the more “friends” the better, right?). I was hesitant to join facebook for a long time…but it just kept calling me over and over again! Even though I said no, I felt the need to give it a chance…after all, persistence is flattering!
The beginning of my relationship with facebook was just like any new relationship; countless hours spent together at night learning all about each other… weeks go by and you realized that you haven’t done your laundry or spoken to any of your family. Eventually, you discover that you’re knee deep in lust and the addiction is intoxicating. Before long you find that you can’t go more than a couple of hours without getting your fix!!! Now here we are, two years later and still going strong!!!! Or is it? Many relationships look prettier from the outside and it’s certainly easy to make life appear delightful through the eyes of our daily status!
It took me a little while to figure it out but my relationship with facebook provided a rather false sense of connection. It turns out that facebook was a bit of a player!! “It’s complicated” as they would say but to be fair, who doesn’t love getting two hundred birthday wishes on your wall?!?! It wasn’t until one day when my seemingly innocent status got used as a reason to create drama that I realized I needed to break up with facebook to some extent. The same way my old flame and I hadn’t really worked out in the end, I found that facebook and I needed to talk. “It’s not you…it’s me”, I said! Of course I was lured by its memories of days gone by and endless possibilities. The seduction of so many pictures and a wall full of validation is hard to resist…but it was time! So I did the great purge…the cleansing of my social circle from 300+ “friends” to the 50 people that would understand that “you’re sweet like candy to my soul” is really a nod to Dave Matthews and a not a secret invitation to run away to Mexico with me! Parting ways is never easy…especially when you’ve had as much fun as we have, so I’ve agreed to still have a date or two. We even spent a good twenty minutes together before work this morning! What can I say…attraction is hard to get over sometimes!
So I guess you could say that facebook and I are still seeing each other from time to time, but we’re not exclusive! In fact, I’ve even gone back to using my hotmail account more often, sending snail mail every now and then, and {dare I say it} visiting face to face!!!
But I’ve been very clear that in no way does this constitute cheating on my part!
Needless to say that it was a lot of fun catching up on his life in recent years. It’s equally hard to believe that this was a guy I met at a restaurant one day who ended up bringing me a dozen roses…a guy that I had to write theories of communications papers with and whose phone calls gave me butterflies. Now, here I was looking at pictures of his daughter (who, might I add, is among the most stunning little girls that I’ve ever seen!) and sharing stories of our weddings. My, how we’ve grown!
Catching up with him kind of made me think of how similar facebook is to the real world of dating in some ways; it’s our social resume for the new generation! Kind of like when he and I first started dating, facebook is about showing our best side to the world; it’s a tally of our best pictures, golden moments, glowing achievements and of course, visual proof of our social acceptance in the world (the more “friends” the better, right?). I was hesitant to join facebook for a long time…but it just kept calling me over and over again! Even though I said no, I felt the need to give it a chance…after all, persistence is flattering!
The beginning of my relationship with facebook was just like any new relationship; countless hours spent together at night learning all about each other… weeks go by and you realized that you haven’t done your laundry or spoken to any of your family. Eventually, you discover that you’re knee deep in lust and the addiction is intoxicating. Before long you find that you can’t go more than a couple of hours without getting your fix!!! Now here we are, two years later and still going strong!!!! Or is it? Many relationships look prettier from the outside and it’s certainly easy to make life appear delightful through the eyes of our daily status!
It took me a little while to figure it out but my relationship with facebook provided a rather false sense of connection. It turns out that facebook was a bit of a player!! “It’s complicated” as they would say but to be fair, who doesn’t love getting two hundred birthday wishes on your wall?!?! It wasn’t until one day when my seemingly innocent status got used as a reason to create drama that I realized I needed to break up with facebook to some extent. The same way my old flame and I hadn’t really worked out in the end, I found that facebook and I needed to talk. “It’s not you…it’s me”, I said! Of course I was lured by its memories of days gone by and endless possibilities. The seduction of so many pictures and a wall full of validation is hard to resist…but it was time! So I did the great purge…the cleansing of my social circle from 300+ “friends” to the 50 people that would understand that “you’re sweet like candy to my soul” is really a nod to Dave Matthews and a not a secret invitation to run away to Mexico with me! Parting ways is never easy…especially when you’ve had as much fun as we have, so I’ve agreed to still have a date or two. We even spent a good twenty minutes together before work this morning! What can I say…attraction is hard to get over sometimes!
So I guess you could say that facebook and I are still seeing each other from time to time, but we’re not exclusive! In fact, I’ve even gone back to using my hotmail account more often, sending snail mail every now and then, and {dare I say it} visiting face to face!!!
But I’ve been very clear that in no way does this constitute cheating on my part!
Friday, February 27, 2009
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