Happiness

I’ve been seeing a lot of people on my Facebook news feed with “100 Days of Happiness” (one friend went all out & decided to do 365!). I didn’t do it because I annoy enough people with my blog pluggery & Fitspo posts. But I love the idea of someone taking 100 days to remind them why life is beautiful. My friend the Psych Major said I remind her of Uni-Kitty from the Lego Movie because I’m always upbeat & positive & oh so happy! It’s not a state of mind; it’s a choice I make every second of my life to be happy, even when the world is a shit show. I do this because more gets accomplished when you’re happy than when you give into the shit show.

Anywho, with that being said, I’m going to post a list of 100 things that make me happy.

***Before someone points it out in some snide comment; my daughters, friends & cats are not things. They are people***

1. My bliggity bloggity. I need to write to feel happiness. I write more when I’m unhappy or stressed as writing is pretty much my everything. But it’s the only way I know how to express myself properly. So, my blog makes me happy as creating ideas makes me happy.
2. Birthday Cake Donuts. I have to run 5k every day to earn the bastards, but they’re so good. Mmmmm.
3. Yoga.
4. My house. I’ll love it more once I paint it.
5. I’m taking the Overlord to see her first IMAX movie on Sunday. She’s going to face her fear of loud noises to see Guardians of the Galaxy. I’m excited for her.
6. The fact that my manager doesn’t object to the amount of casual swearing I do at work.
7. Listening to the Fray in sweater weather.
8. My phone’s autocorrect because it’s funny as Hell.
9. My Ed Sheeran tickets & no, I still won’t sell them to my manager.
10. Getting to play with the new cell phones at work.
11. Pop culture as I’ll be making my livings thanks to celebrity obsession again.
12. Seth Rollins because he is really hot. Celebrity crush FTW.

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13. My hair is finally a colour. Well, two colours. But I don’t need colour correction anymore. Yay! (Check it out in the About Me section)
14. I saw Queen two weeks ago & it was the best concert ever.
15. The song “Explosions” by Ellie Goulding because I swear it sounds like it was ripped out of my journal. I would like royalties Ellie, because you stole my thoughts.
16. Every single thing Taylor Swift does and says. Always.
17. Red freezies. The superior freezie.
18. I have finally mastered winged eyeliner so I no longer resemble a panda in public.

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19. My one on one dates with my girls. I love that I’ve mastered time management enough to give them the attention they need while working to support us.
20. Pikachu
21. Oscar Wilde
22. The fact that Trish Stratus & the Imagine Dragons follow me on Twitter
23. My neighbour. He’s rad.

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24. Somersby. I don’t drink often but when I do, that’s it.
25. Katy Perry. The sometimes angry teen is so excited about our trip to see her.
26. The fact that my 4yo daughter is perfectly capable of saying l’s & r’s but chooses not to because she thinks it’ll get her out of stuff.
27. Reese’s peanut butter everything
28. Clouds that look like stuff
29. Pancakes. All the time. Everyday
30. Post exercise soreness. That means I did it right.
31. My 7yo’s determination to grow her hair as long as Rapunzel’s.
32. My amazing box of stuff.
33. Adam Levine.

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34. An old, beat up copy of Julius Caesar I bought for someone & never got to give to them. Now it’s mine & I like to keep it around to inspire me to achieve my goals. Something something One Tree Hill. ( I watched the show once. It sucked. But I do love the show’s version of “When the Stars Go Blue” better than the Corrs version I heard originally).
35. The song Timber. Suck it, it’s good.
36. Chicken wings from a Windsor pub called Hurricane’s. There are none better.
37. Terrible movies. Mega Shark vs. Giant Octopus is a fantastic one. I’ve been told Sharknado is worse. I may need to check it out.
38. The number of times that I will stare at my phone after I’ve unlocked it with the fingerprint sensor as if I expect it to continue to do stuff.
39. Skipping in lieu of walking. It’s more fun to skip. Try it, it’s really fun.
40. Stars. I have a really deep & intense reasoning but I’ll save that for later. But I love them more than life, have four tattooed on my wrist & want a crap ton more.
41. My tattoos. I’m proud of them & can’t wait for the next one.
42. People who quote the Simpsons in their everyday speech.
43. Brown eyes. They’re sexy.
44. The book Flowers in the Attic. It’s so bad it’s good.
45. The colour electric blue.
46. Disney movies
47. Pixar
48. Cat gifs.
49. The number of people who pick up my mannerisms. It makes me feel influential.
50. Old people celebrating their 40th or more wedding anniversary.
51. The fact that years later, people still choose my parents’ wedding song for their first dance @ their own wedding.
52. Jillian Michaels. She’s so great.
53. Any story the Psych Major tells me about her son.
54. Everything about my future.
55. My friend’s new writing project that I may be a part of.
56. The creek in front of my condo
57. Cilantro, only because the Overlord will always correctly identify when the dishes on the cooking shows need it.
58. All of the dishes I’ve created with Red Bull as an ingredient.
59. Red Bull.
60. My iPhone.
61. Soccer hooligans.
62. Skateboarders that fall down.
63. Slapstick comedies
64. Unicorns. Shut up, they’re amazing & you’re wrong to suggest otherwise.
65. The genius who thought to put cookie dough in ice cream. My hat’s off to you sir.
66. My teen daughter’s obsession with the DIY network.
67. The knowledge that I do not have a Pinterest & have no desire to get one.
68. Sitting down after my shift.
69. The knowledge that I’m immature enough to laugh hysterically right now.
70. The fact that I’m in my 30’s & I still don’t get dirty jokes.
71. The fact that my 4yo asked for “All the Things” for her birthday.
72. Lumpy Space Princess
73. Archer. It’s so funny.
74. Moustaches
75. Pickles
76. Stuffing things into cookies (ie s’more stuffed cookies)
77. Pictures of Yorkies dressed up as Harry Potter
78. Cats with people names
79. My dimmer light switch for my chandelier
80. My Instagram account
81. My fireplace
82. Any time my friend Amanda throws a fit & demands chocolate like she’s a small child
83. Sleeping
84. Squats
85. Camping
86. People who say they like my writing.
87. Laughing until I cry
88. Dressing up my cat Peachy for Halloween
89. Football, but only The New Orleans Saints & only when my 4yo explains the rules.
90. The knowledge that I’m going to enter a fantasy football league, let my preschooler draft all of our players & when we win, tell the wannabe jocks that they lost to a child in kindergarten.
91. Hockey.
92. My Little Pony
93. Texting The Texan screencaps of morons who message me on online dating.
94. Maroon 5’s new album V
95. The Fault in our Stars. If you read it & didn’t bawl, you have no soul.
96. Punny puns.
97. The alarms I set to remind me to exercise.
98. My teen daughter’s exaggerations.
99. Toblerone.
100. French bulldogs.

That’s my list! I hope you got a good laugh & maybe some of these make you happy too! But the joy of life is that stupid little things can make you happy every single day, even this list.

It Takes Two

My friend recently posted this to her FB page & it got me thinking (because I am a weirdo who analyzes memes);

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As the poster child for “taking too long to heal from a bad relationship,” this made me sad. So, I sent her this text;

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The reality I learned is humans choose to make themselves happy or miserable. We choose who we become & no amount of bad relationships can “turn” us into anything. I chose to be miserable & believe my former friend’s lies that it’ll all work out it I wait. I chose to mourn for the life I thought I wanted. I chose to ignore the fact that he is too closed off emotionally to give that life to me & I needed to heal from my emotionally abusive marriage to be in any position to build a life; I just missed the idea of what I thought we were building. That’s what we miss when a relationship ends; the idea of the life we were supposed to have, because we never really have it. If I had that life, we would have talked about our feelings instead of me hiding my concerns because he’d leave me. I shouldn’t have had to be afraid he’d leave if I breathed wrong or asked for my feelings to be validated or to be made a priority. If that life had been real, I would have felt safe & happy. I thought I did, but now I realize I didn’t, because I was so afraid he’d leave, because he did, all the time. What I missed wasn’t real & what made my friend feel like the graphic wasn’t real. She’s too sweet to ever do it, but if she becomes a bitch, it’s her choice, just like I chose to be miserable. I made that choice & then I un made it. I decided, much like when I mourned my marriage, that I wouldn’t mourn a life that wasn’t real. I mourned this family that wasn’t real. Reality was an emotionally defeated mom, and three little girls who were afraid of their angry father. I needed to focus on why I make bad choices, which is that I choose broken men. I choose them because I want to make them happy so I can feel happy knowing I bring someone joy. I do this because I was unhappy with my weight, my lack of byline, my insecurities about who I am. If I make these broken men happy, then I’m doing something right so I have value. So, I choose to bring myself joy, give myself value & then I won’t need to choose broken men & keep up that cycle. The only reason the cycle in the graphic exists is because we allow it. When my teen daughter mentioned the emotionally abusive relationship of Damon & Elena on The Vampire Diaries was romantic, I had to think about what I had been teaching her. I had been teaching her that women in love allow men hurt & manipulate them & it’s their fault for not loving them enough. I don’t want my daughter in that cycle, so I had to break it, for myself, for my daughters. Again, that’s a choice I’m making for us, to teach them what a healthy relationship is.

No one can “make” you a bitch or an asshole. You chose that. You chose to crush the heart of that person that loved you. You chose to let someone crush it. You made those choices & you chose to dwell & let it warp you. Why choose to destroy joy? I was destroying my own joy & for what? Nothing. So, I choose joy. I choose my happily ever after. It’s right now, in this moment. I’ll fix what makes me feel weak & make myself happy, because then no one can rip it away. But in the moment it’s hard to see that reality & seeing my friend’s pain (albeit in snippets with her talking about binge eating, etc.) made me realize something I didn’t for a long time. I understand why my ex-BFF lied for so long. I was crippled emotionally by the on & off, the intense togethers & sudden splits & the consistent rejections that I couldn’t think. I went to school & raised my kids but my friend saw me broken, so very broken. He just wanted to make the pain go away. Hearing her pain made me want to do the same thing. But we have to choose the path of reality & allowing someone time to figure out what they miss isn’t real & the real happy ending is around the corner is much kinder in the long run.

My friend is an amazing & strong woman, mother, performer & friend. She will choose joy & meet her match & live a beautiful life. Even if she doesn’t, she’ll live a beautiful life with her son. Because happy is a choice, not a situation.

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I Almost Do

I don’t mind being single. I don’t mind living alone. In fact, I revel in it.

I’m kind of hermit like, and as I told my friend Steph, it’s because I have very little to contribute. People I know live exciting lives; I do a lot of yoga & sit-ups. That’s my life in a nutshell; work, raise family, yoga, run 5k, sit-ups. I find it rewarding, but I know that it’s really boring. Only the Psych Major, her husband & my friend Sarah love sit-ups as much as I do. But I revel in my boringness (I don’t think that’s a word). I love that I do whatever I want. I’m a starfish in bed, I hog it so well even the Pirate Princess (the champion bed hog) would be proud. When I decided to lighten my hair to it’s current light brown & blonde ombré, I didn’t ask for an opinion; I just did it. I pick the movie, & I really don’t care when I hog the couch blanket. I’ve only been making my own decisions for a year, so it still amuses me. I actually enjoy living alone more than I should. I’ve even given up on ever seeing a dime in child support (thanks to our flawed system in Canadaland) or that I’ll ever have an effective co-parenting relationship with the dad. I’ve accepted that I’m doing this life thing by myself & my girls & I aren’t just surviving; we’re thriving & I’m living as an example for them. I’m getting pretty good @ it too. Between meal planning & a schedule, my house is clean, my kids are eating healthy all of the time & most of the time, I’ve got life under control.

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But, I will admit, the latest development in my life makes me wish I didn’t live two hours away from everyone I know & love (one hour from my Sarnia peeps). Because I am actually a moron, I forgot I had two wisdom teeth. I forgot for YEARS, mostly because I had no benefits & couldn’t afford to have them removed. I had the other two pulled years earlier when one got impacted. Well, one of these bastards decided to remind me that they exist by shattering in my gum & getting infected. My face looks really fat & it hurts like a mother effer. But I’ll have surgery & be back to work the next day. Why? Because I can’t afford the time off. Being a sole support parent means sacrifice. But you do what you gotta do.

I won’t lie; I wouldn’t mind a supportive hand to hold to tell me the dentist isn’t scary & an offer to make me soup. I wish I had someone to watch the girls so I didn’t have to condense the teen’s slumber party. I just don’t want to do another sucky thing alone. I get that this is part of independence, but sometimes it’d be nice to have an ally. I know if I still lived in Windsor, I would have friends right there to be a help, but when one moves hours away, you don’t have these things. I guess maybe this broken tooth is helping me realize that while I can do everything on my own; maybe I don’t particularly want to all of the time & that’s okay.

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Not wanting to live forever me against the world doesn’t make me weak; it makes me human. I think I’ve held onto to this belief that I need to be completely independent to prove some kind of point, but maybe I don’t need to prove it anymore. Maybe it’s time I let people help when they offer it. Maybe it’s okay to let people offer comfort, be a friend. Maybe it’s okay to want a partner in life someday. Or maybe I’m whacked out on painkillers & rambling. That’s entirely possible & maybe, that’s okay too.

Hey Brother

Much like everyone else, I was instantly mesmerized with the beautiful story of Ryland Whittington, who’s parents made the brave choice to accept their child for who he is, transgender. Ryland (now seven) often lashed out, saying he hated himself & someday when his family died, he would live as a boy the way he was supposed to. His parents Jeff & Hillary consulted doctors & therapists, who all came to the same conclusion; Ryland was exhibiting feelings of a transgendered male who wanted acceptance. So they did. Their video explaining to friends & family that Ryland would now use male pronouns & live as a male went viral & they received the Inspiration Award at the Harvey Milk Diversity Breakfast.

However, instead of celebrating this family & their demonstration of unconditional love in a time when so many children talk of coming out to find their parents do not accept them, many bloggers & commenters claimed that these parents were actually abusing their son (before I get hatred, I want to remind you that Ryland identifies as male, so I will refer to him as the Whittington’s son).

Wait, what?

Self proclaimed “Speaker of absolute truths,” Matt Walsh claims that Ryland is too young to understand something as huge as gender & he’s confused & his parents shouldn’t have allowed it. Fox News correspondent Keith Ablow said Ryland should have been prescribed anti-psychotic medication. Both of these men stated clearly that Ryland was too young to understand what being a boy was, despite the American Association of Pediatrics saying gender identity is determined at four (Ryland was five when he began his transition).

When I pointed this out in the comment section of Walsh’s blog, along with the fact that he is not a doctor and has never met Ryland. Many of his commenters replied that doctors don’t really know anything so they were unqualified, but Walsh speaks truth. One caught my eye & inspired this post, so thank you commenter, whom I’ll call “Bigoted Psycho (or BP for short).

BP mentioned that doctors don’t know anything. She was diagnosed as bipolar, then with General Anxiety Disorder. But she knew her body & that these weren’t working & found other, natural methods to curb her anxiety & now she’s happy.

Wait, so what BP was saying is by understanding the feelings in her body, she was able to effectively convey them to a medical professional who was able to diagnose her & help her feel okay? So, when Ryland Whittington told his family he felt his body was wrong & he didn’t feel right & needed help, he was able to convey that & feel okay?

No, BP says. Ryland is a child. She was a teenager. It’s TOTALLY different. Oh, okay.

I don’t know the Whittington’s. I am not a doctor. I am not even very smart most days. But I am a parent. I love my girls more than life & I want them to be happy. I want them to know that I’ll love them if they’re LGBT, or straight, if they go to college & become doctors or if they work @ Burger King for life. I also want them to know if they feel something isn’t right, that I’ll be there for them. Whether their stomach is upset or they feel like they’re in the wrong body & they hate themselves. I want them to know that I will understand & accept them. I am their mother & it’s my job to give them the safe haven from cruel people like Matt Walsh, or BP, or the bully down the road & that they can tell me ANYTHING & I’ll help them any way I can. The Whittington’s obviously felt the same way & I have nothing but respect for them.

It’s okay not to understand what it means to be transgendered. I don’t 100% understand. But I’m learning so if I meet a trans person I can get to know them on a human level & not ask a million intrusive questions (I’m a journalist; we ask a lot of questions). But it’s not okay to tell them how they feel about what’s going on in their body is wrong. It’s not okay to tell them it’s a phase. It’s not okay to call them “it” or say they’re confused & this magic pill will fix it. It’s not okay to say that to any LGBT kid. If you don’t understand, then take the time to learn. Try to see things from their POV. I bet we’d be burying fewer LGBT kids who took their own lives if we did. And if you can’t understand, STFU. There’s lots of things I don’t agree with in the world but I’ve learned that, despite Matt Walsh’s claims, there is no absolute truth other than we are all born & we all die. Everything else is a big gray area. So, instead of judging the gray that you don’t like, focus on your own gray.

48 To Go

As I continue to work towards my fitness goals (down 40.5lbs), I’m learning how much money I waste on…well, crap food.

A little progression pic. See my 40lbs loss...and my various phones.
A little progression pic. See my 40lbs loss…and my various phones.

Between my Tim Horton’s Tea and my Starbucks chai tea and my restaurant lunches on paydays, I’m not eating as well as I should be, especially if I want to lose the last of the weight. I’m over halfway to my goal and I’ve dropped two sizes and plan to drop two more, as well as get stronger. Eating that crap is not going to help me. Not to mention it’s pricey and with summer coming, I want to be able to take the girls on a much needed and well earned family vacay to the zoo, as the overlord has been waiting since she was two years old to see hopping kangaroos. Not to mention that in the next three months, I will be attending a WWE Live event and “Queen” Katy Perry with the littles, as well as Queen and Ed Sheeran with friends (still accepting offers for someone to accompany me to see Ed Sheeran. You get to spend my birthday with me and go to Ed Sheeran for free, as my friends are all “I don’t like him, he’s a hobbit.” Jerks), so having the extra cash would be nice.

In order to finally kicking the junk food habit, I’m imposing my #29DaysJunkFoodFree. From June 1 – 30/14, with the only exception being the soon to be teen’s birthday, I’m going to cut out all junk food, fast food, caffeine, and alcohol. I’m going to put the money I would have spent in a jar to see how much money I waste on junk food. Obviously I’ll need to find some workarounds, as my coworkers are planning a team outing (so I’ll have to order salads and drink water), but I will not eat fast food, or chicken wings, or drink, or have any caffeine. I’ll see how much of a difference it makes on my weight loss goals as well as on my wallet. I’m going to hopefully lose more weight while fattening up my wallet.

This just cracks me up...and will help me kick cupcakes.
This just cracks me up…and will help me kick cupcakes.

Part of trying to live better is taking accountability for what I eat. Cutting out junk food and caffeine and restaurant foods will help me live longer by cutting out excessive fats and unhealthy foods, but it’s going to put money back into my pocket, which will help me support my family. I have friends trying it with me, with each picking one exception day and we’re all going to go #29DaysJunkFoodFree. I hope to see awesome results and get one step closer to living healthy and well and teaching my kids to teach them healthy eating habits too.

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Begin Again

I’ve been told when it comes to dating, I’m just too damn picky.

I think I reserve the right to be picky. I’ve dated Newspapers, Mr. Emotionally Stunted, guys who are completely incapable of love because they’re emotionally crippled, narcissists, physically abusive morons, cheaters, etc. My track record effing sucks. Part of that is because I chose poorly. I didn’t see my own value. I allowed people to walk all over me because I didn’t think I deserved any better. But, now, I look differently. I want someone who will help me evolve as a person, compliment my life, all those cliches.

The picky comment came from a friend after I told a guy I didn’t want to see him anymore when I found out he didn’t have a job. The Gleason Table & my new coworkers agreed that this is a deal breaker. I don’t see that as picky, I see it as smart. “I thought you were an independent woman,” the guy snarked when I told him. I am. I live in a house I pay for. I pay my bills. I support my children completely on my own, as I have not received a child support payment in 22 months (although his wages are finally being garnisheed). Everything I own I have purchased with my money from my jobs. While I currently only have one, at one point I was working two jobs & attending school full time. Why? Because I support myself. I don’t need another person to support, so employability is kind of a must.

Late last year, I made the list of the seven rules to dating MHC. It’s important to me to maintain high standards so that I meet the right person & it works. That doesn’t mean I won’t compromise on little things. For example, I don’t really want to date a man that smokes (ironically enough, every man I ever dated, even casually, has smoked), but I will compromise. But I won’t compromise on unemployment. I just wonder why are you wasting your day pursuing a woman, you should be finding a job! I’m really glad I took time away from dating, as it helped me understand how to make good dating choices. After all, whom I choose will be around my daughters (after one year) & they will base their romantic choices around mine. Too often, people rush from one partner to the next because being alone deafens them. They fear the being alone, the lack of intimacy, the idea that it will never end & you’ll always be alone with your thoughts & self doubt. That’s why all of those relationships fail; because they’re making choices out of loneliness, not because they really care for the person. I wondered if that’s why I kept making bad choices. All of the men I choose are the same; broken birds. Perhaps my lonely, sad & jaded year helped me. It helped me discover that, in the words of WWE Superstar (& my husband in my imagination) Seth Rollins, we are the authors, the finishers of our fate. The reason I was unlucky in love is because I was making bad choices, forgiving men & accepting their mistreatment & taking them back without expecting them to make changes. I was just blindly giving. Well, insanity is defined as doing the same thing & expecting different results. I can’t keep doing the same things. I can’t keep overlooking things I shouldn’t. I can’t be a doormat. I can’t keep losing my identity in a relationship. I need to be able to be me, just with someone. I needed to learn that I wasn’t in the right place to be a partner. I needed to grow up, stop letting others define my happiness, define my own happiness & stop letting love be the excuse for why people treated me like crap, because if they did love me, they wouldn’t treat me like crap!

The old MHC would have looked past the joblessness, and his excuse that it wasn’t his fault, the manager was an ass & wanted to help. The new MHC saw the lack of ownership & knew it’s a red flag & walked, knowing she deserves better. Maybe I am a little bit picky, but that’s only because I need to be. If I don’t think I deserve the best possible partner that compliments me & will be a good male role model for my girls, then who will? My friends? It’s nice that they want what’s good for me, but it’s not up to them to build me up. That’s on me. My family? See above. I have to want what’s right for me, & not push down the doubts because I’m too blinded by love to see that I’m being torn apart piece by piece & becoming a simpering, weak, baby. Maybe that makes me too picky, or frigid, or I’ll die alone. But I’d rather die alone with my kids & my cats & blissfully happy with my life, my writing & my fitness than miserably in love with someone who either a) mistreats me or b) just doesn’t work, or in this case, literally doesn’t work.

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Closing Time

Normally, my song title blog post titles are just as random as what I’m listening to at the time. Today is different. I deliberately sought out this song for one line, which sums up this post nicely;

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Much like every part of life, this Windsor chapter has been about beginnings & endings. I started over after my first attempt to get a post secondary diploma didn’t go according to plan. I succeeded, graduated & became a writer. I welcomed my youngest daughter & watched her grow into a bright & happy young girl. I obtained a second post secondary diploma when my dearest hippie friend called me & suggested we both needed a change. I started a retail, johnny punch-clock job (even though I swore I’d rather be shot) to support my family & found that it wasn’t so bad. I made great friends & found I was pretty darned awesome @ this real people job thing. I fell out of love with my husband & closed the door on my marriage. I fell in love with a man & had my heart broken. I kept longing for a person who couldn’t or wouldn’t ever love me back. From that experience, I became closed & guarded, terrified to let anyone in again, even my closest friends. I was alienating anyone near me for fear of getting hurt by another person, but I’m slowly stepping out of that shell, taking Gigi’s advice to go out & live again, spend time with friends & even go to some “meetings” (first dates) & be the beautiful, strong & vibrant woman I was meant to be (she’s a wise woman, that Gigi. Meghie also suggested to pick the opposite of what I usually would, but Meghie doesn’t mince words). Truthfully, I haven’t been happy with my Windsor life for years. I often mentioned to Drew that I wanted to get as far away as I could, but there was always one thing that appeared & made me stay & I kept romanticizing this life. Much like “How I Met Your Mother’s” Ted Mosby ignored his incompatibility with former love Robin, overlooking her faults even in the closing moments of the series, I chose to ignore my unhappiness. I pretended not to notice how I let friends dictate everything, including the colour of my living room, while borrowing money & dragging me down with their negativity & chose to ignore that the continued attempts to take over my life were making me passive aggressive & bitchy. I also didn’t notice my own dragging down a good friend, allowing my broken heart & fear of starting over without his guidance & the person I truly believed was the love of my life with me to choke the life out of one of the best friendships I’ve ever had. I ignored my professional dissatisfaction at the magazine, because I was living my dream so I had to suck it up. I ignored that I didn’t care for my neighbourhood & wanted more out of my life, I had been so happy in that life that I was afraid to let it go, even when it was gone. I wanted to go back to that life, with those friends (even though they weren’t perfect, they were my life mates), with that man (even though I knew he’d always hurt me), with that little girl & my own girls, that I couldn’t see that old life wasn’t where I belonged, all I felt was the pain because it didn’t exist anymore. I needed to let go of the life I wanted, the one I’ll never have, to get the life I truly deserve. Much like when Ted finally let go of Robin, he found true love with the titular mother (I’m not acknowledging the last five minutes of the show because I’m trying to make a point), one random September day, I decided to let it all go & just leave town & start over. I got sidetracked by a person & their cruelty, which left me leaving them in a bar in tears, sobbing to the Gleason Table. But that helped me remember that I need to do what’s right for ME. So, I set a timetable, found a house, focused on my personal goals (including a 31lbs weight loss!) & I have been happy. But we all do this at some point; we hold onto nothing because what was once there was amazing, even when it wasn’t. Most of those friends were toxic, that house not the place you want to settle into forever. That man probably wasn’t the beautiful person you remember. Once you realize that (sometimes if you listen to Wide Awake by Katy Perry 100x times in a row, it’ll speed things up), it’s easy to cut that cord & move forward. But don’t feel badly if you struggled or if it took you longer to heal, because all humans heal on their own time. But you’ll get there. We all get there.

But today is the last day & one can’t help but be nostalgic on the last day. I will turn around tomorrow to look back at my empty home & face the flood of memories. I’ll take that instant to remember the birthday parties, the Christmas get together’s, the St. Patrick’s Day I made corned beef even though I didn’t like it. I’ll remember the night he asked me (indirectly) 15 different times to marry him, the cold night air against my face when he showed up late at night, held me in his arms, called me his salvation & said my smile healed his pain, and the night I leaned against my bedroom door & broke down sobbing for hours until I mercifully passed out on the floor because he walked away. I’ll remember MH & Drew’s grand adventures, the nights we were late for the movies because he got watching Maury, needing him to light my barbecue because I was afraid of it, shopping for an iMac, the great ostrich debate & any conversation that ended in “Right?!” I’ll remember blinking back tears as two of my babies started school, sidewalk chalk artwork & all of the times the pirate princess demanded to feed the “gooses” in the yard. I’ll remember school projects, silly songs & clean up days singing Taylor Swift into my mop while my children laughed. I’ll remember a little girl who ran to me & always embraced her little friend like they’d been separated by war every time they met. I’ll remember rushing home from my office to my home office to interview Penn Jillette, my happy tears when my musical hero Amanda Marshall said I was a good reporter & the two am revisions passing out on my computer because I know if I read it over ONE MORE TIME, this time it’ll be perfect. I’ll relive every emotion & then I’ll take a deep breath…& let it all go so I can make a new fresh start & make it a good one.

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Why? Because every new beginning in comes from some other beginning’s end. This chapter of my life has come to an end & the London chapter is a blank page. It’ll be interesting. I’ll find another magazine & tell more interesting & exciting stories that I hope people will read & love. Maybe I’ll fall in love again & finally meet the great love of my life, but that’s not really a priority. Maybe I’ll keep moving towards the GTA & finally land that sweet job in a PR firm or a magazine. But whatever happens, it’s time to stop being afraid & see what happens next, because it may very well be everything I’ve ever wanted.

So, goodbye to this life & welcome new adventures. Let’s see what you have in store for me.

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Roads Untravelled

I’ve found the key to packing before a big move; THROW IT ALL OUT.

I’m not even kidding. I’m throwing it all out.

So far, the only things I’m packing from my living room are my television (which is really only used to play workout DVD’s and watch Frozen. If I ask you if you want to build a snowman, I apologize) and the Overlord’s piano. All three of my daughters are getting new beds. I’ve packed up bags of clothes, and brought the toys down to two bins. Almost every knicknack has been tossed out.

Isn't it cute?
Isn’t it cute?

I’m a sentimental person; things hold meaning for me and part of preventing the nostalgic feeling while packing has been to throw it all out. That “date night” shirt that I specifically bought because my date said I looked good in that colour? Throw it out. The wooden box that a former friend painted for me? Throw it out. Unless it is something I absolutely cannot part with, I’m throwing it out. It’s rather therapeutic, getting rid of stuff that I don’t need so my new house and my new future is going to be a complete fresh start.

I’m in the middle of this awesome change right now, where I’m sort of reinventing who I am by becoming some kind of hybrid of who I was in high school (adorably cocky bitch) and who I am now (overly sympathetic and compassionate) and it’s been nice. I’m working on my body (down 22.5lbs), changed my hair to the brighter ombre and continue to focus on making this new chapter the most positive chapter it can be. I like that I’m finally making steps to make my life what I want. Too often, I hear people make excuses for why their situation never changes & I don’t want to be that person. I had to take some steps back to step forward, but that’s okay, I’m on the right path to a great future.

I just really like my hair in this picture.
I just really like my hair in this picture.

But back to the sentimental stuff. Apparently my daughters have picked up on this too and it’s both a positive and a negative thing. It also helped me learn that I have to learn to keep some of that sappy stuff in check. While packing their toys and downsizing, I went through each toy and asked them if they actually played with it and if they said no, then off it went. The Pirate Princess held on to a stuffed bunny that she doesn’t play with often, but she fought me tooth and nail, citing that her Uncle Drew bought it for her for her birthday as a baby (how the eff she remembers that I’ll never know) and she needed to keep it because she wuvs him. The Overlord did the same thing with a stuffed…uh…thing (it’s a weird little creature). She couldn’t let it go because Blank gave it to her for her birthday and he even wrapped it and he never wraps gifts and it was special and she needed to hold onto it. She’s slept with it ever since. I probably should have tossed em, as they weren’t toys that they played with much and I’m trying to downsize, but I decided to pick my battles and let them keep those sentimental toys. After all, I’ve kept a necklace that I’m allergic to but wore every day & a copy of Edgar Allen Poe’s complete works buried in a box in my room because they were gifts from these people. Why can’t they keep these small mementos?

But part of moving forward is getting rid of some of the stuff that no longer serves you, or that will hold you back. I don’t need my hoard of stuff to keep memories, I have them locked away. Aside from baby pictures, concert ticket stubs and a handful of other mementos, there’s not a whole lot of stuff in this life I need to hold onto as cherished stuff. All of that stuff is in my amazing box of stuff and packed away. There’s no sense in moving that stuff from place to place, as it’s unnecessary and bogs you down. So, I’ll just keep purging so I can focus on moving forward and making my new house as clutter free and warm and positive as possible. Also, it’ll be a lot cheaper to move as Ikea will be delivering most of it six days after I move in, so there’s that too. But there’s still the matter of moving that piano up a flight of stairs, so I should probably do some burpees. With weighted gloves. Until I puke.

Day 28: What Stresses Me Out

There was a time when everything in life stressed me out.

During my marriage, I walked on eggshells. I couldn’t speak. I couldn’t think. I couldn’t do anything. After the marriage, I was walking on different eggshells. I was so afraid to be alone that I didn’t want to make anyone mad at me. That way, they would love me.

Now, I focus on things by breaking them up as I need to. Cleaning my basement? We’ll do it in four days. Budgeting? We’ll plan it at the start of each month. Chores through the chore hat. Instead of procrastinating and letting things build up in my mind, I handle them as they come. I meditate each night. Yoga helps me detstress. I keep a list of goals I’ve accomplished. All of these things help me keep focused and almost sane. Then, of course, there is my writing, which always helps me, no matter how stressed I am. When I was in school, I often wrote about inane garbage because the subject matter sucked so hard that I couldn’t focus. My writing helped me focus on what needed to be done to get through. Same with the rest of my life; writing helps me find my balance.

The other thing is that I no longer feel dependent on others. I have realized that no matter who comes and goes in my life, I have my children and I will survive. It might sting, but that’s okay; because as the singer Jojo says “Disaster strikes and I’m alright because my love’s on his way.” Whether that’s a friend, a lover, a relative I’m reconnecting with, there will always be someone who loves me in this life and I will cherish those people. However, sometimes, their time in my life has an expiration date. That may sting, but it’ll be alright because I have myself, my daughters, my faith and my determination to make all of our dreams come true will get me through.

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Also, if that doesn’t work and life throws me for a loop, I’ll simply spend an hour doing yoga and between that and chivasana, my mind will be cleared enough to write, which always helps me find my way. Or there’s wine. There’s always wine.