Forget Me Now

Today I did a thing. 

It’s not a super exciting thing, but for those who know me well, it’ll be a funny story. And you’ll probably giggle a bit. 

In case you’re new to the wonderful world of ASH Multimedia, let me bring you up to speed. I used to be really fat. Now, I am 92lbs lighter (as I lost the last of that pesky 15lbs I gained during my commute from Hell) & I have 43lbs left to reach my goal weight. I’ve worked super hard to get healthy. Part of that includes running. I effing HATE running. I have dedicated many a blog post to my hatred of running. But, combined with Crossfit, it helps me reach my goals. I want to be healthy, in shape, set a good example for my girls. But running is still stupid. 

Every other day, I go for my morning run around the lake near my house. But I never actually make it because the harbingers of doom are always hanging out. You know, GEESE. 

Again, if you’re new, let me catch you up; geese are the absolute fucking worst. WORST. They’re evil & scary & will likely murder me. If you follow me on Instagram, you will have watched my epic boss battle with Satan’s unholy army (which can be found here & here). You can actually pinpoint on my Runkeeper Go maps EXACTLY when I encountered these evil creatures because it’s where I turn around in terror. 

See?

Well, I’ve made it my personal mission to actually run all the way around the lake & not “run until Honky McTerrorface & his evil family appear.” So, like every other morning, I got up, did my yoga & went running. All was well until…you guessed it. GEESE. 

Fortunately, our evil feathered creatures of death were distracted by a elderly man taking photos of them, for what I can only assume is a coffee table book called “The most evil monsters known to mankind.” I sped up, fearing for my personal safety, assuming I’d be one of those people who gets chased or murdered by the unholy spawn of Satan & all that would be left of me would be a plaque with my face while people gathered around it feeding bread to the mother fucking geese, having learned nothing from the tragedy. However, Satan’s minions were excited for their Snapchat debut (they dig filters I guess. Unrelated side note; I reactivated my Snapchat at work this week. It lasted maybe 10 minutes before I decided it was the stupidest & deleted it again. I didn’t even send a snap to my favourite Snapchat friend because I’m an asshole) & ignored me…& I finished my run & finally made it all the way around the lake. 


This might seem like a stupid story, mostly because it totally is. But it’s fun & not everything needs to be some metaphor for some deeper lesson. I wanted to reach my little goal more than I wanted to be afraid of the goose. So I was. By achieving this mini goal, it helps me stay on course to achieve my next fitness goal (regain all of my crossfit strength & set a back squat PR# of 150 by year’s end). Every time I achieve a little goal, I can accomplish more until my fitness goals are about getting stronger & maintaining & not losing weight. It’ll be nice. But to do that, sometimes I’ve gotta do unpleasant things, like risk being murdered by geese…

…sometimes. 

Literally my worst nightmare

Brighter

So, a really important thing happened today that I need to share with all of you. 

I’m going to post a photo & I will leave you to figure out what it is. I know I swore it would never happen, but I guess I never realized how much it was something I really wanted and needed. It came about in a way that was VERY unexpected & super fast, but I’m sure once I tell the story, you’ll see that it was the right time & it’s the right thing. 


Still stumped? I’ll explain. 

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But first, let’s listen to the song selection that titled today’s blog post.

 

(BTW, every blog post will be titled by songs by Against the Current or PVRIS for the forseeable future)

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That’s right guys; I FINALLY GOT MY COW PROVINCE DRIVER’S LICENSE. 

I’ve been afraid to drive for YEARS. I once promised it would be a cold day in Hell before I ever bothered to drive. My ex husband once threatened to divorce me if I didn’t learn to drive by my 25th birthday…and my 30th. Oop. I don’t really like it when men tell me what to do. I always meant to out here, but I always got sidetracked, what with the infected kidneys & such. After awhile, I started to doubt that I could. But after I was offered my third journalism gig that I had to turn down because it required the occasional commute to another town, I got fed up & realized I’m holding myself back from my dreams! I came here because I’m a damn good journalist who works damn hard. I have devoted my entire life to this & I am letting jobs slip through my fingers because I won’t learn?! Stupid. 


So I got the book. I studied during downtime @ work. My manager quizzed me. I took the online tests. I corrected the typo in the book. Then, when I felt ready, I went for it & I FAILED. Yup, I failed on the first try. So, I texted my best friend & told her how stupid I felt & that driving was dumb & I wasn’t gonna do it. I even contemplated moving home; obviously this wasn’t where I belonged. She told me to shut up & take it again, because her best friend needs no man, no encouragement, nothing but her own wherewithal. So I did & I passed & I can now learn to drive like a big person. Pretty cool, huh?

GOOD JOB PROVINCE OF ALBERTA. THERE IS A TYPO IN THE BOOK.

But, much like everything else in my life, I did it on my terms, my way. I got it when I was ready & because I wanted to, and not a moment before. I no longer allow anyone to tell me what’s best for me. I know what’s best for me. I know what I want & what works for me & I intend to get all of it. That means learn to drive & get that kick ass media job I’ve always wanted, because dreams are meant to come true & they only work if you do. 
And it’s nice to have photo ID again. I have a passport again too! I can prove who I am!


I don’t know if Hell froze over, but if it did, I’m not sorry. I have a career to continue building, dreams to make reality. You know; stuff. 

A New Day Has Come

I’ve always said that no matter what happens in my life, professionally, I am killing it. I can use present tense because I am ALWAYS killing it. Call me an egotistical bitch, but I’m very good at what I do & when I set a professional goal, I get it. Why? Because I’m MHC & I work 10 times harder than I need to because I’m determined to be the strongest woman I know. 


This past week, I’ve been contacted for two interviews; one for a management position that would allow me to begin to merge my wireless career & public relations career and one AT MOTHER EFFING POSTMEDIA. MOTHER EFFING POSTMEDIA. LET THAT SINK IN BITCHES. POSTMEDIA. It’s not the position I am gunning for, but it is a start.  It’s opportunity and all I’ve ever asked for is an opportunity. I can prove myself with the rest. But everything I’ve worked for since I was eight could start to come together. And if it blows up, I have an opportunity to continue my reign as the Queen of Telecommunications. Speaking of my reign, my manager called me today to tell me that I was this week’s top performer for all of Northern Cow Province. All hail the Queen. My last blog post was praised on Twitter. Random strangers messaged me to tell me they think I’m gifted with words. Boom. My new editor has been really hands on, working with all of us to appeal to our strengths and help us grow as writers. I’m so excited to work with him, as I’ll just become a better reporter. I’m so super happy. I have almost everything I’ve ever wanted after a minor setback in the winter. But that’s all setbacks are; minor. With hard work & determination, it’ll always come together. 

I wanted this job so badly that I ditched my signature red lip in favour of a natural look. I am actually wearing more makeup to look like I am not wearing any than when I wear cateye and red lip

Regardless of if anything pans out, I know the opportunity is there. All humans are 100% capable of making their lives how they want it to be & I am gonna do just that. I have a destiny to be so much bigger than I am, and so do you. We all do. Part of that destiny is teaching three girls to (if I can borrow a line from Queen Britney Spears) work bitch. I’ve been pushing myself at the gym (my quads will tell you all about it), I’ve been pushing my cardio by following my Runkeeper plan. Strong women create strong women & I intend to raise three unstoppable forces. To do that, I have to be one myself. 

I was gonna run around the lake, but geese.

Life isn’t perfect, and it will never be perfect, but it’s coming together nicely & I can take comfort in the knowledge that I did all of it MY way. I’m gonna continue to do it all MY way because, not only am I teaching my daughters to do it their way, but because I can take joy in knowing everything I’ve ever accomplished I did on my own, for me. It wasn’t my coaches that lifted the weight, I did it. No one got these interviews for me, I DID.  No one sold the phones for me, no one wrote the words for me, no one did it but me. I DID IT & for the first time in my life, I’m going to embrace what I can do. Once you embrace what you can do and what you can accomplish, no one can take it from you ever again. 

MH’s guide to life is simple; 1. Be a bad ass. 2. Own the fuck out of your bad assery. Let your light shine bright & never let anyone or anything make you think you can’t. You can. Own that you can. I tell my teen daughter that you can look for the light at the end of the tunnel or you can bang two damn rocks together until you get a spark to light it yourself. 


I’ve got my spark, time to start my inferno. 

Dangerous Woman

Hey all!

I’m not dead!

I’ve enjoyed my respite, but it’s time for me to do what I do best; write happy shit. 

I guess I should clarify why I took my downtime. My commute had me exhausted, I felt like I had overexposed my life like a Kim Kardashian nude selfie & I honestly just wanted a few weeks to do some yoga, hang out @ home & reacquaint myself with MHC. 

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Sometimes I feel like I share too much of myself. I’m a very loving & open person & I just want to love everybody. I want to be nice to people. I want to love my girls, my friends, the people I love, even my cat. And I always want to share my happiness with everyone because I assume they are also super happy. That gets me into trouble, as there is always that one or two miserable people who make everything ugly in an attempt to bring you down to their level of misery. I won’t allow it though. My happiness doesn’t come from people or jobs or possessions. It comes from a conscious choice that I make to be happy, simply because I can.  You cannot take my joy, as I create it myself. You cannot ruin someone’s happiness when it can be found in her children, writing, Heavenly Hash ice cream, nature, cute puppies, hot baths, and the ability to change a day with a smile. 

  
My reputation means little to me; my character does. I don’t let gossip or public perception skew me. I would rather focus my attention on being loving, kind, forgiving & compassionate. Those who know best know who I am & who I aspire to be. I won’t let anyone take that from me. 

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I also hate attention except from my kids & like one other person. I would make a terrible celebrity. I hate when people talk about me when I’m not around or stare at me. When people do that, watch me from afar but don’t talk to me, it makes me feel unnerved. I figure if you’re watching me or talking about me, you should come and talk to me, say hi! I don’t even understand why I’d be interesting enough to talk about & I feel like some kind of test subject & it makes me self conscious. Like, I write about my life, but I’m a faceless weirdo to most people. I think I’m the only extroverted person who literally hates attention from strangers or large groups. But during this period, I realized how few people are like me & just want to he happy & love everyone & how much of that unwanted attention I bring on myself by trusting everyone, including the wrong people & sharing so much of myself. I will never stop being kind, patient, understanding & when the world feels dark, it’s important to me to say that I will not allow it to sap my strength & tenacity, my belief in humans & my determination to be kind, understanding & loving, even if no one else is. So, when I feel any kind of edge to me, I decide to retreat so I can retain the best of me. 

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I give so much of myself to the people in this life that I love that I forget to love myself sometimes. I devote so much of who I am to trying to make everyone happy that I end up forgetting to love myself! So I decided to pull myself out of that by kind of internalizing stuff. I didn’t tweet much. I ditched like 60% of my social media & downsized the rest. I kept InstagramFacebook & Twitter, but posted very rarely. I kept my life to myself, save for my nearest & dearest. They knew about how I was adjusting to my new workplace (Someday I will write a damn book about what I see there hahaha), my kids, crossfit (& my distress at missing the open), and my joy that the Overlord & I each own a pair of Becky Lynch goggles. All of the most awesome things.

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But I found that the more I kept my life to myself, the happier I was! I liked that my personal time & space was MINE. I liked not sharing it. I liked that if you wanted to know how I was, you needed to call or text me. And I learned that certain friends didn’t, despite my always being there for them. Nothing was wrong, but I’ve been checking in on them since I moved but I realized how one sided these friendships were. And it didn’t bother me. I don’t need that in my life. You wanna be around me? Make an effort. 

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But the big thing was that I was learning how important it is to maintain my privacy & not blindly trust everyone who seems friendly. It’s important that I create separation for myself, keep my personal life mine, maybe my whole life. That’s not to say that I won’t write about stuff sometimes, but I really enjoyed having that down time to really connect with myself & enjoy that if I was out with friends, or my kids, or even enjoying a cup of coffee by the lake, that was my time. I liked that people had to ask me what’s new because they didn’t read it on FB or Twitter. I felt like I was having real conversations with people again, like in the before time, before social media took over our lives.   

I’m sorry that you’ll see fewer of my Instagram pics, or random Twitter musings, but I really like keeping my life to myself a little more. Maybe the last few weeks were a really good lesson in shut the fuck up. I don’t really see difficult weeks or situations that suck as bad things, I see them as super rad opportunities to evolve as a woman & learn to be a better woman, mom, daughter, sister, partner & friend. I like being able to turn situations I don’t like into super amazing ones (LIKE THE FACT THAT MY TRANSFER = I MAKE SO MUCH MONEY NOW. SO MUCH. IT IS SO STUPID AWESOME HOW MUCH MONEY I MAKE). But like I said, I always want to be a bubbly optimist. So, I needed to get some sleep, spend time listening to bomb ass music & enjoy being that bubbly optimist, as I’m the only MHC on Earth, and I kind of dig her. 

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In The Night

I can’t sleep so I had a thought. 

It’s nothing important, but it’s something I’ve wondered. 

For those of you new to the party (and maybe need to be brought up to speed), all of my blog posts are titled with the title of the song I’m listening to at the time. Sometimes they make perfect sense. Sometimes they don’t, not even a little bit. Either way, the format isn’t changing. Sometimes, there’s a song that makes me think of a specific idea or person, but those generally have a password (more on that here). Often I heard something and it stuck out, as nothing speaks to me more than music. If I’ve ever told you (or tweeted) that a particular song was everything, chances are it had a deep meaning to me at the time. 

But I’ve often wondered if anyone actually looks up the song titles & listens to them.  I don’t imagine anyone does. But I’ve wondered if anyone does.  Or if they pick the right song. Like, if I title something In My Head, I mean 12 Stones, not Jason Derulo. Superman is Rachel Platten, not Eminem. And literally everything involves the Lumineers. And if anyone looks them up, would they think they could understand what I’m thinking because of a song? Isn’t that a hilarious thought. 

Maybe I’m vain. Or maybe it’s because it’s something I would do if I knew anyone who titled something after song titles. Maybe I would discover something new. A new artist, a new song. Maybe a song by the Lumineers I hadn’t found yet.  But maybe I’m the only person that takes my music that seriously. Oh well. 

  

Distance

I envy you chill people who never worry about anything. 

As someone who has long suffered from anxiety, I envy how you can just adapt to new situations. I wish I was that person more than you know, because I can’t. 

If I switch jobs, I panic because I’m back on probation & could end up unemployed & then what happens to my girls?

If I move, I worry about how I’ve ruined my life. 

When I’m in a relationship, I worry that if I’m anything less than the perfect, understanding girlfriend, he will leave. 

If I’m ever the unpleasant, bitchy friend that doesn’t want to hang out or isn’t completely understanding, I will have no support system. 

Welcome to my mind. 

Generally my mind is a happy world of unicorns & rainbows & everyone is happy. Kind of like the world of UniKitty in the Lego Movie. I revel in positivity.  I pride myself on my optimism. I just want to be happy & for everyone around me to be happy. 

my spirit animal

But then there is the other side that I control with fitness, nutrition & sleep (all of which I haven’t been keeping up with) that becomes terrified that everything will go wrong. The side that overthinks, over analyzes, reads too much into things & seemingly sabotages her own life. 

I remember on Saturday apologizing to my boyfriend for feeling overwhelmed & struggling to explain why all change freaks me out, and not being able to. I apologized for wanting time alone with him & even last night I was talking about why I shouldn’t ask for much from anyone because I can go through periods of anxiety & they can be taxing. Yes, they can. And I love my good friends & family so much because they’re there when I need them. And it works in reverse. I love that my boyfriend understands why I get this way & loves me enough to see that the person I am, that loves him so much & tries to be good to him means more than the fact that I struggle with trust. But I shouldn’t have to devalue myself or apologize for feeling a certain way. But I do. And I need to stop. 

I am not perfect. I am never going to be. But I’m pretty rad. I would like to think I’m a decent parent. I would like to think I’m a good friend. I think I’m a good partner & treat my boyfriend the way he deserves. I absolutely deserve to be happy. And yes, nothing about my life was what it was four months ago. And yes, that scares me. Sometimes it scares me a lot. But I would like to think all of the good that I offer far outweighs the times that I’m anxious & scared. And I’m tired of apologizing. 

Women are conditioned to apologize for EVERYTHING.  We apologize for wanting random flowers or to be told we’re loved (I pride myself on being the anti-girl, but sometimes I want those things). I actually apologized for being alive this week. We’re taught it’s to defer power, but I don’t want to defer mine anymore. I’m a little nuts. That’s okay. But I’m not sorry. It happens & the more I try to pretend it doesn’t, the more it happens & the more I write about trying to fix it, the less it gets fixed. So, I’m going to accept it while continuing to do the things I know that help; fitness, nutrition & proper sleep. Oh, and the power of positivity.  I’m not going to worry about what if, I’ll focus on what is. And that is what I tell myself when I feel this way, that I have three rad kids, awesome friends, an amazing boyfriend, a job, a roof & a skill I’m passionate about. And I’m not going to hide from anxiety anymore. I’m going to be friends with it. I’m going to hang out with it, let it have its voice, but also explain that the other emotions need to be in control, like Joy. But most importantly, I’m not going to apologize anymore. I’m MHC & I’m too damn nice. I talk too much & I care way too much about current events & pop culture & sometimes I worry about nothing. But I refuse to keep trying to stifle the thing that sucks to try & be perfect, because then I’m not giving the people I love a chance to love me for me. 

So, here’s your chance kids. 

  

Life Lessons Learned The Hard Way

After the week of suck, I’ve done something I haven’t done in a long time;

I broke down. 

There was an attempted robbery at work. My teenage daughter is so resentful of her dad’s lack of interest in her life that she has decided she never wants to talk to him again & won’t pick up if he calls anymore. My hip has been injured so I’ve been hurting. My youngest has been ill and I had  to ask my eldest to leave school early to watch her until I got home. By the end of my shift, I was just miserable. I ended up crying all night, feeling isolated and alone. I felt like I’m alone in the universe, with no real friends here. For years, I’ve handled everything on my own like some kind of warrior, and every one tells me how I’m so strong. I didn’t want to be strong anymore. I just wanted someone to shoulder a part of the load with me. 


I cried all night. I cried all morning. I just didn’t want to be homesick or alone anymore. I didn’t want to be the single mom who handles all the decisions. I didn’t want to go to work. I didn’t even want to be a parent for an hour, because I don’t get the luxury of being a parent when I want women to think I’m sensitive or because my parents ask where my kids are. I was literally broken. 

But I learned I wasn’t really alone. My best friend Melissa texted me until very late her time trying to help me feel better. My other best friend Erica, my Texan PIC called me from the road enroute to Dallas for surgery to check in. And my wonderful boyfriend sat on the phone with me for an hour, despite being sick as 100 dogs to remind me that he loves me, he is right here in the city and he will do his best to make this easier. My mommy message board told me how hard I was trying. My oldest friend Gleason offered encouragement & Damanda offered to book my flight home hahaha. 

  
Suddenly, I realized that while I am far away from most people, I’m not really “alone.” I have the best friends in the world who are still right by my side even though they are a zillion miles away. I have friends I’ve never physically met who are always there. I have a loving & gentle man who always knows how to deal with my bouts of lunacy in a way that makes me feel safe & loved. He protects me by reminding me that I can do anything, but on days when life beats me down, he’ll be there to help me back up. I am a very fortunate person. And that helped remind me that while it can be a hard road, I’m the only role model for these three girls. I’m their only parent, their lifeline. I’ve gotta get up & put on pants & kick the world’s ass until I’m the most amazing MHC I can be. So I did. 

I may be weathering the storm alone sometimes, but I’m certainly not alone in the trenches. My people are right there with me, whether it’s to calm my addled mind or to tell me I’m the effing sun, like we’re Dr. Meredith Grey & Dr. Cristina Yang, I’ll never really be alone as long as they are there. 

  
 

The Danger In Starting A Fire

Moving is stupid. Never do it.

Over the last few months, I’ve gone through a plethora of emotions ranging from euphoric to miserable. This past week has just been beyond stupid. I’ve considered closing my blog because I wasn’t comfortable writing about my feelings & I sometimes wonder if I’m using my writing because I’m rather lonely out here in Cow Province & I miss regular chats with friends back home. I had this grand vision that I would get out here & my editor would love my work, I’d land a full time gig & my new gym would be as awesome as my old gym & everything would be perfect.

Yeah, nope. 

Instead I’ve been miserable at my gym, hating my job & trying to overcome years of mistrust in a day. So, I’m homesick & sometimes contemplate just moving home in the spring (my friend Damanda is sending a U-Haul). But, I realize I’m not giving myself any time to adjust to anything. Like, at all. 

I’m such an ambitious little creature, that I assume it’ll be easy to adjust when most people say it takes a year to adjust to a new community. I get better at trusting people, but it’s a process & I can’t rush that process. I’ll warm up to the gym, it’ll take time. There are some cool people & some not cool people. But I’ll get used to it. It’ll never be as awesome as my old gym, but still good. My new job isn’t journalism, but again, new audience, it’s a process. 

I keep trying to rush to get to the part where this feels like home, but it’s gonna take time. The difference is I’m going to allow myself that time to get used to how things are done here. If you’ve ever switched provinces/states, you’ll understand. Some days it just feels weird. And I just want to fit in with the cow people (maybe I should stop calling them cow people). But I realize it’s not as easy for some people. And I’ve got to allow myself time to get used to my life here. It’s okay to feel homesick. It’s okay to feel lonely. It’s okay to miss my gym & my friends & DECENT DAMN PIZZA. WHY IS THERE NO GOOD PIZZA?! But I kept trying to think it was wrong to go through periods of sadness. My birthday was a great day, but I’ve been lonely ever since. It was the first year it wasn’t a clusterfuck, which was nice. But it was also the first year I didn’t have belated drinks with Melissa, or dinner with Rena & Damanda. And it was just kind of sad. And over the past few days, as things have been sucky, I realized how much I missed having nearby friends who could watch the older kids while I took the littlest to the Voodoo Witch Doctor, as she’s allergic to every medication ever made, or Bree hugs. Or the fact that people here call shopping carts baskets. NO. THEY ARE SHOPPING CARTS.  But I didn’t want to adjust to the culture shock. I wanted to be awesome. Now, I’m going to focus on making Cow Province my home…& maybe stop calling it Cow Province. 

***However, I have only seen geese once, so good job Cow Province****

  
Same with everything else, I need to give myself time to open up, time to build trust, time to get comfortable. And it’s okay to want to do that slowly. It’s okay to not want to rush. It’s okay to have moments of doubt or fear. All of these things are fine. People who love me understand why I’m a bit batty & love me anyway. They get it & will let me muddle through on my own until I get to a place where I can fully trust people the way I want to. But it takes time. 

  
The good thing about time is we have a lot of it. Every day is another day to make awesome. So, that’s what I will do. Make tomorrow awesome. And the next day. And the next. But the only way to make this place home is to work on it. So, I’m going to put up curtains, pictures & BUY A DAMN KITCHEN TABLE NEXT WEEK. I’m very excited about my table. And each day I wake up I’ll feel better & better about living here, until one day, it’s home. And everything else will come in time, so I won’t rush the process anymore. 

  

Jet Pack Blues

So, hey, I live in another province now. 

I’ve affectionately coined it “the cow province from Hell,” mostly because I don’t know what time it is, Erica & I still aren’t in the same time zone & I don’t actually have furniture. Or Internet, and I won’t have Internet for another two days because apparently my ISP is…special. And I only know three people. Fortunately, they’re the raddest people & have helped my navigate my way around & sat up late talking to me because my circadian is completely off & I’m terrified that I’ve ruined my life. No matter where I go, I’m always blessed to have the greatest friends & loved ones who make me feel completely at ease. And I am grateful. And I thank them so much. 

The other bonus is that I’m getting right into work writing, which was the point of this entire exercise; I want to be a writer & a damn good one (please don’t gauge my body of work from this blog, I’m a really good writer, I promise). Once I settle into my real people job on top of writing locally & not remotely, juggling time zones & trying to make Western Canadians understand my Ontario area code while balancing no sleep & work. I can expand my portfolio while continuing to inch closer to the goal of finally landing my dream job of full time reporter. 

In the interim, I figured I’d regail you with a photo essay of my travels, because as I’ve mentioned, I’m the worst traveller ever. If you missed my epic live tweet, where I inadvertently offended WestJet among other gems, here’s the Coles’ Notes version, while I try to find food. And maybe an air mattress because sleeping on the hardwood floor sounds awful. 

 

Big ups to my cat, who stopped trying to claw her way to freedom & accepted her fate of travel

 

 

How normal people see the view from the plane

 
How MH sees it
  

Dear Calgary, when I finally found coffee in your airport, I almost stopped hating you

 
I like to offend my friend Paul

 
Airplanes aren’t so bad when you have 900 songs to listen to. These were my albums of choice. I should probably finally admit that Fallout Boy doesn’t suck anymore, but I refuse to let Alys win.
 
 
Peachy survived the flight & learned she likes luxe hotels
  
 
And WestJet gets offended when I call them cheap for not having wifi
 
 
And I learned that jet lag sucks & the struggle is real

 
But I found nature, so I am good
 
So, what’s next? I guess conquer everything! Climb a Rocky Mountain, dominate in my own adorably flighty way! Or maybe just painting & actually getting some sleep. Either way, the mind numbing terror has subsided & I’m suddenly feeling okay with this. I’ll adjust. Things are fine. And I’ll have everything I’ve ever wanted because life sometimes surprises me in ways I never expected & things just work out in the most beautiful ways & I am very happy. Terrified, but truly happy. Of course, I’ll be happier when this reaches zero: 
  

So, in the meantime, I’ll just continue to work on the list that I made for myself to adjust into Western life.  

I guess it should say “additional people I don’t hate.”

 And it will all work out. And I will be successful & happy. And my girls can finally be proud of me & I’ll be the role model they deserve & worthy of the honour of being their mother. Or I’ll have completely fucked up my life & I’ll end up in a box fort! 

We’ll see. 

And I’ll still dress like a slob. It’ll be rad

I Wish You Would

If you’re a long time reader of my blog, you’ll know that I have an almost childlike love of Taylor Swift. 

I adore all things Taylor Swift. I preordered her album the second iTunes would let me, I rock out to her discography daily & I may have paid some criminal @ StubHub almost $1000 to replace my Toronto tickets with ones more local to the new city & on August 4/15, the girls & I will get to see our Queen. We’re all very excited. The girls have a countdown, the not always angry teen has her outfit ready, the overlord has looked up the setlist & my IG has an amazing video of my five year old’s epic performance of Bad Blood. We REALLY like Taylor Swift. 

Remember when Target (RIP) had a Taylor Swift selfie stand & I dedicated large chunks of my shift to posing with it? Because Pepperidge Farm remembers.
Remember when Target (RIP) had a Taylor Swift selfie stand & I dedicated large chunks of my shift to posing with it? Because Pepperidge Farm remembers.

I also REALLY like Apple. During a job interview for the Apple Store, I was asked what set me apart from other candidates & I said I’d give them a kidney. When new Apple products launch, I sing “It’s the most wonderful time of the year.” I am a proud iSheep with my gold iPhone 6 & I regret not one thing. So, imagine my basic white girl horror when my favourite artist & favourite brand appeared to have an issue (I may have cried. Okay not really. But I thought about it). 

To keep things fair, I also sometimes pose for photos with my beloved iPhone
To keep things fair, I also sometimes pose for photos with my beloved iPhone

When Taylor Swift wrote her open letter to Apple, she said what everyone who considers themselves an artist has always thought, but never been able to drive home; expecting artists to work for free for the exposure is ripping them off. We should all be compensated for our work, whether it’s digging ditches or selling out stadiums. 

I have had the pleasure of getting to know many indie artists over the years, and I would suggest you check them out. I built my career interviewing these artists & they are all talented & creative people & I’m so grateful that I was afforded the chance to get to know them. Check out Mic Lordz & Sauce Funky, Inoke Errati, Gypsy Chief Goliath & Cowboys in Cardigans (front man Jamie Reaume’s Way Back Home is still one of my favourite songs). Most of these talented artists are on iTunes. But they wouldn’t have been paid had you streamed their music. Taylor was right when she said it wouldn’t affect her, but that’s a lot of free streaming for the artists above. These guys have homes, families. They worked hard. Why shouldn’t they be paid? 

You wouldn’t ask your doctor to work for free, or a lawyer. You wouldn’t tell your hairdresser that your free cut & blowout would help them get business. So, why do it to those lucky people who are willing to risk it all for their one goal of entertaining you? Seems like a jerk move. 

And Taylor Swift knew it. 

Taylor Swift is aware of her power. She knows how influential she is & that she has the power to speak for the guys playing open mic nights on the weekend while recording awesome new stuff…

…and she used it. And Apple will pay artists. Taylor Swift brought change. 

All hail the Queen
All hail the Queen

Call her greedy. Call her selfish. Call her whatever you want, but you missed the point. Taylor Swift’s motives may not be 100% altruistic (but I believe they are), but she spoke up & made things change. She used her voice, something so few of us do. She saw something wrong & called the big bad company out on it (I’m sorry Apple) & made a difference. She opened discussion about why artists deserve compensation for their work. One person made a difference. 

But most importantly, Taylor Swift is a role model to millions of little girls all over the world, including mine. My eight year old daughter thinks “Queen Taylor changed the world yesterday!” Maybe not, but she taught millions of girls that when something is wrong, you stand up & speak out & one girl CAN change things. One person can spark change so don’t be afraid to be that one person. 

So, thank you Taylor. Thanks for defending your fellow artists. Thanks for showing little girls to use their voices. You’re a true role model & inspiration & I’m glad my kids look up to you. But most importantly, thanks for being someone deserving of that praise.