you wouldn’t like me if you met me

There are people who know me, but probably not as well as they would like to think. There are also people who know me better than I would like to admit. But either way, there is a sort of relationship there. Within these relationships are choices, boundaries, and respect.

You are not in either of those categories.

You are in a category of your own. You do not know me, not at all. And there is no relationship to speak of. And yet, you continue to roll in and out of my life like a tidal wave, leaving unsettling and uprooting reminders at every turn.

If you knew me, you would know that I am kind, sincere, and trying so desperately hard to stay afloat. You would know that I don’t waste my time on things that seem fake, or needless. Especially now. You would know the year I’ve had. You would know how much I care, and how easily I can be hurt. You would know that the last thing that I need is this.

Over and over and over again you would show up. Each time, I would let you, hoping for change.  Each time, you would let me down. Finally, I stopped hoping. Finally, it didn’t matter and I didn’t care. You never crossed my mind. But true to the past, you’ve once again shown up to put yourself there.

Does that seem fair to you?

Do you think I am asking for this?

I’ m sorry that you are haunted by your choices.  I’m sorry that you feel that you have some right to me, and that it’s okay to treat me like a drop-in dance night. But I did not ask for this. This was your choice, a long time ago. I just happen to have been in the middle of it. However, when you made that choice, you chose to let go.

I would never change that choice, and I am grateful for it. But my being free of you was supposed to have come with the territory.

And now I am angry.  I am angry that although I did not choose this, it continues to be a problem for me. I am angry that I cannot even choose to keep you at bay because you are so fleeting. I am angry that you feel I should have to tip toe around you. I am angry that you came into my world, and expected me to run from you, while you chased me. But then, you aren’t chasing me, are you?

I am furious that I am an adult, and you still do not have the respect and decency to treat me as such. I have not treated you with any less.

And most of all, I cannot believe that instead of worrying about my husband, the impending arrival of my new baby, and the countless of other things that I should have on my mind, here I am. Tired, exhausted and awake. Taking the time to let this seep into yet another moment.

I suppose that all I have needed to say is that you don’t know me, and you don’t own any part of me.

I am stubborn, passionate and determined because of my mother. I am kind, reflective, and conscientious because of my father. My beliefs and opinions have been shaped by my family, and by my experiences. I make the same ridiculous expressions and noises as my siblings and my cousins. My love of music, books and any sort of classic have been a part of me since I was old enough to talk. My competitive streak and love of sports probably has something to do with wanting to stick out in a large family. I sing really loudly, talk really loudly, and laugh really really loudly. It’s hard not to know I’m there. I suppose I’m sort of odd; we always have been. The true meaning of love and its fire has continued to amaze me through my husband. I have a tendency to need to figure things out for myself. I have been told that in both a negative and positive way, I can be unstoppable. I am not always proud, but I always learn. I have  regretted, I have tried, I have become.

I suppose what I really wanted to say is that I am still me. I am still who I always was. And the people I have to be grateful too for that are the ones who have been there from the beginning.

I guess that for a moment, I just wanted to feel that I was still my own. I needed to remind myself that yes, I do know who I am.

the blues are still blue

It usually goes like this:

Something causes pain. Either slightly anticipated or completely unexpected.

And I recognize who was the cause, and usually that makes it worse. I trusted you?

Then, I think about why.

Then, I realize there is an answer.

And then I replay it over and over in my mind until I can’t think about it anymore. Until it stops hurting. Until some time goes by.

But this time its different.

I am sure that there is no answer. There is a reason, but it is still unexplainable.

And I have tried to replay it. But I can’t, and then I do, and I want to rush to the bathroom and vomit.

And time has gone by.

But the sting never really fades.

There are few people who have hurt me that way. Some of them have decided they hate me. Some of them have developed a sudden case of amnesia and have no memory of what happened. Some of them continue to try and pop into my life whenever they please, over and over.

Sometimes it wasn’t even directed towards me in particular.

Sometimes they don’t even know me. No, actually, always they don’t really truly know me.

I just need to say, congratulations. Whatever you are trying to gain, you could never top what you’ve already done.

And you can rest easy knowing that I have tried to forgive, tried to pretend it never happened, and tried to just get on with things. And I do.

But what has happened has affected me so deeply, that I will always carry it around in the back of my mind.

You changed my life. And not in a The Notebook, PS I Love You, kind of way.

scoreboard

The other day, I went to my future cousin-in-law’s hockey game. In the beginning, there was an undeniable air of excitement, hope, anticipation, which was quickly dampened when the other team scored within 5 minutes of the puck drop. The cheering continued however, and everyone still had faith.

Our players were smaller, and a little kinder. The other team were gigantic, and refs seemed to think that it was perfectly okay if they let a little jabbing, tripping, and hitting from behind slide by unnoticed.  Eventually, the score rose higher and higher, each goal in favor of the opposition.

But our team kept going. They pushed back, and they skated hard, ignored the unfair calls, and refused to play down to the level of their opponents. And finally, they did get a goal. it wasn’t beautiful, and it seemed like nothing compared to the 4 on the other side of the scoreboard. But it was  goal. It was a small victory, and they had fought hard to get there.

And our fans were encouraging and hollering and clapping and kept on hoping. As the game wore on, most gave up. And then everyone was yelling about what they thought the team should be doing, and could be doing, and trying to rationalize why the game wasn’t going the way they thought it should be.

And in the end, the scoreboard read 5 – 1. And if anyone had come in to the arena at the moment, that is all they would have seen. The end result. A loss in their eyes.

They wouldn’t have seen how hard they fought back, how hard they tried. They wouldn’t have seen the little victories, or how they overcame the smaller things that were thrown in their way. They wouldn’t have known that half the team was sick, and still trying their very best. They wouldn’t have seen the events that led up to that end, or how they got there. Some would call those things excuses, some would call them reasons. But nevertheless, they would have judged, and they wouldn’t have seen or understood the whole story.

And it occurred to me then, how much life is like a hockey game.

When this all comes out, I know that it will be seen as a cliche, or a shock, or maybe even a little hypocritical. And people will see the end result, and how I’ve deal with things. They will judge without really knowing. Without really understanding. And they will try and tell me how I could’ve, how I should’ve, how they would’ve.

But at the end of the day, you come to realize that you are lucky, you are privileged, you are blessed. Because everything truly does happen for a reason, and eventually you will see it all unfold right in front of you. And so will those fans who never fail to show up for the next game – cheering, hoping, and knowing that you have won. Those people in your life who have always understood and supported you, and who can appreciate that sometimes a supposed loss is really a victory.

a hard rains gonna fall

There comes a time when you realize that your life is about to alter in unimagined ways.

Whether you’re ready or not, you have your choices, your options, your decisions.

And in the end, the only option is courage. You’ve got to ignore the doubt, questions, fear and the realization that you are completely overwhelmed, which tends to creep up on you when you start over-thinking it.

All you can do is to fiercely stay true to the belief that, in the end, everything will work out.

It just has to. . .

And so you set out, with determination; caring not what others might try to say or do to influence or guilt.

One day at a time.

You’re stronger than you thought you were. And you’ll be just fine.

hello dolly

” There is nothing like returning to a place that remains unchanged, and seeing the ways in which you yourself have altered” – - – Nelson Mandela.

That has been, for some time now, one of my favorite quotes. I find it to be very true in my own life, over and over and over again.  Time doesn’t standstill, and people are constantly growing and changing. But some things continue to remain the same.

It used to be that I came to Vancouver at least once, if not more, every year. My cousins there have seemed as close to us as immediate family. They’ve had a major influence in my life, and I have become more comfortable in my own skin because of them. Around them, its always been okay to quote something obscure, break into a random song from an old musical, or do a voice impression for no reason whatsoever. It was alright to be a little odd, even weird. I miss that, always. There are so many times where I think, this would be so hilarious, if only there were someone here to get it.

We’ve definitely come a long way from the kids we used to be in the home videos. And we have all turned into our own person, and have become different and even more unique from each other. But some things never change.

This time, it had been a while since I was last here. Over a year ago, I suppose, and alot has happened. It seems like forever, but it also seems like no time at all.

When I’m here, I still get that feeling. The feeling of a sort of home, or belonging. Everything is really still the same, its just grown a little older, maybe a little wiser. This place is so many things to me. I consider myself very lucky to have such a place in my life, when so many people never find the people or a place that can make them feel, and remember who they are.

Sometimes, it takes returning to that place to realize just how far you’ve come.

Hello, Dolly. . .

It’s so nice to have you back

Where you belong

One more time, fellas. And that movie will never get old.

one skirt, two skirt

today, my boyfriend asked me, “what is with this dressing  ‘all LookBook’,  anyways?”, referring to http://lookbook.nu/, my latest obsession and the reason my wardrobe has doubled in size and crazyiness.

well, the answer is why not? because i can? because i would rather go and buy random forgotten items and put them all together? because i dont want to walk down the street and say, ”oh look! a shirt twin”. because its nice to feel a bit different, even if only in some small way. because, secretly, my leather jacket makes me feel a tad badass, even though i know im not.

not to mention that anyone who knows me, knows my complete indecision when it comes to every day choices. ordering, picking a movie, deciding between the red pen or the blue pen…

i’m pretty sure it started in preschool, when my mother was horrified to see that i was wearing my polka-dot skirt right on top of the plaid one. she tried her best to dissuade me, but i was adamant that i would be wearing both skirts to school that day. i’m sure that that ensamble was topped off also by a colourful array of necklaces.

i will admit that. every now and then, the desire for comfort trumps the desire to be wild, and i find myself in something boring, but homey. and i also will sadly but surely admit that i have given into trends, or the pressure to dress hot, sexy, or whatever it is we girls were told we were expected to be.

originality is hard to come by these days. and its getting harder and harder to stand out. i do what i can. and sometimes, its just nice to not have to pick between the grey skirt and the yellow jacket, so i wear them both! im definately not the bravest, or the most unique, or the one with the best clothes. and i suppose that in the big scheme of things, clothes don’t really count for much. but i think that clothes can be an expression of who you are, if you let them. so, boyfriend, i hope you can see past those leggings you hate so much and love me anyway, darling. just be thankful that i’m only wearing one skirt, and not two!

last day

it is almost my last shift at the restaurant!

despite everything (see last post), i really will miss it. there were many great people, interesting regulars, and just general hustle and bustle.

but it’s time for me to move on to new things!

i can definitely say that the experience reinforced some important lessons  for me:

1)  be open-minded, but not naive.

2) “dont judge a man until youve walked in his moccasins” – - an ancient indian saying, and one that my thoughts constantly wandered back to. it is so very very true. it’s easy to assume things, but completely another to really know that person’s story.

3) people will never cease to surprise you. there is always some good to be found in everything, whether you can see it or not. there’s no telling what each day will bring. even a broken plate might just have a place in the unfolding plans of the universe.

rant

So, there are a few things about the restaurant business that I need to get off my chest. Over the past 8 months, I’ve met quite a large variety of people – some strange, and some refreshingly sane – that I otherwise likely would not have come into contact with. It’s been a good experience. And I’ve learned to appreciate the worker’s in that industry like never before. And because I’ve now seen eating out from the other side, I am now going to say a few things. This could quite possibly become a rant, but I feel it needs to be said anyway.

1. Tip your servers.

Yes, I understand that we’re in a recession. But if you can afford 4 beers, a 60 dollar bill, and a treat for your dog Poopsie at home, don’t you dare say that you can’t afford to tip. Did you know that, regardless of whether you tip or not, servers pay our a percentage of the cost of your meal in the kitchen’s tip pool? We are required to do this whether you’ve been a saint, given us hell, or have even thrown your chicken fingers at our heads. At least tip enough to cover the “tip out”. Whether you like us or not, I’m sure at least one of the people who was involved in serving you that day doesn’t deserve to be cheated out of a couple of bucks. And if your server has done a good job, prove it! Give them that extra dollar or two over the 15-20%.

2. Tip your servers well.

People make us run around and bend over backwards to please them. Often its a lost cause. Cmon. It used to be said that pennies are insulting, but let me tell you, I would far rather recieve pennies then have to deal with:

a) Inconsiderate regulars who don’t tip, and sit their for hours, because “We come here every day!”

b)People who don’t tip on small bills, when even a cheap amount of food still needs to be taken to the table, you need to be waited on, and overall requires pretty much the same amount of running around.

c) People who are rude, obnoxious, and leave you with nothing, even after you’ve smiled at them and tried to please them anyway.

d) People who sit in a booth for hours / make a huge mess/ and take up your time. . . leaving you only two bucks as a thank you. Or even worse, absolutely nothing. How cheap do you look when the young college student can leave you 10 dollars on a 20 dollar bill, when you with a 50 dollar bill leaves 3?

e) People who give you an 100$ bill for a cup of coffee on a busy day, and as you to scramble for change. Or the people you give you a 20 for a 19.86$ bill and want their less-than-twenty-cents back. My god. Is it really worth the 10 minutes you’ll have to stand there?

f) People who say “Thank you for the service! You were great!”", and then proceed to give you a dollar.

Bottom line: We are students, or aspiring students, or single moms, or people just plain out trying to make a living. We’re making minimum wage to serve you. We rely on tips to make money. Have some respect and appreciation. It’s not easy.

3. Smile.

If your server smiles or asks you how you are, look up from your paper! Don’t immediately rattle on about your burger. They’re taking the time out of their stressful day to make an effort. It’s the least you can do.

4. Control your crazy children.

I love kids, don’t get me wrong. But if your screaming, arm wiggling, hyperactive youngster runs into me while I’m carrying hot coffee, they’ll get burned. And who will get blamed? Certainly not you for lacking in discipline. Yes, your kid is cute. But not when they’re in my way, a safety hazard, or just plain annoying and disruptive.

Also, attempting to force your 5 month old to try to say that she wants a grilled cheese sandwich is just plain retarded. Or if they are 3 and shy. I don’t have time to sit there while you try to give an English language lesson.

There is also an overwhelming appreciation in the heart of the server for polite children, and children who do not constantly whine through dinner.

The worst experience I have yet involving children, was a family who made me stand their and listen to their argument about who wants what, who is sharing with who, who is allowed white bread and who isn’t, blah blah blah. I. Do. Not. Care. Figure out your family feud on your own time.

5. It’s not our fault.

Contrary to popular opinion, servers do not hold a meeting before their shifts and, chuckling with glee, say to each other, “Muahaha.How can we make our customers miserable today?”. We are doing our best! I’m sorry if you had to wait. It’s not on purpose, and we are going as fast as possible. Some of us are so frenzied we are on the verge of a mental breakdown. Especially during a Saturday or Sunday morning brunch, when the entire city is wanting to be fed. It’s not our fault if your eggs are scrambled and not over easy. It’s not our fault if they forgot your carrot garnish (one girl actually made me go back, and make the kitchen stop and put some garnish in a dish, so that she could get her “nutrients”. For gosh sake! Those little shavings probably weren’t even equivalent to 1/2 a baby carrot!). We don’t make the food! Give us a break.

6. On ordering…

If you’re asked, “how do you want your eggs / steak / whatever done?” , do not say “cooked”, and then turn purple laughing at how clever you are. Seriously?! You’re not funny. We don’t have time for that kind of ridiculousness. And that goes for toast to. When asked what kind of toast you would like, the answer is not “toasted”, moron.

7. To the older horndog men.

Stop oogling. Stop flirting. Espeically if you’re with your grandchildren. Seriously?! What do you think I’m going to do?  Say, ” ’scuse me kids, your grandpa and I need some alone time!”. You’re old, bucko. Stop trying to boost your self esteem by making us uncomfortable.

8. In general, do not…

- Seat yourself.

- Come in 5 minutes to closing, when everything is already clean.

- Just drink coffee, and leave a 20 cent tip. If you do this, tip as if its a meal. You’re using a both and our time just the same. If you don’t like it, well I’m sure there’s a Starbucks or Tim Hortons down the road…

- If you aren’t ready to order, do not say that you are, and then make the poor server stand their and listen to you hem and haw.

9. Thank you Thank you Thank you

To all the people who’ve ever taken the time to say thank you, or compliment me, or clean up the table a little bit. Thank you to everyone who has taken the time to smile, or ask how I am. Thank you to all the people who’ve ever said, “Oh no problem, I can see how busy you are!” or ” . . . whenver you have time”. To all the people who have tipped well and are pleasant to talk to. To all the kind people who make going to work worth it.

I’d like to think that most people are ignorant, not just deliberately rude. Everyone is just trying to make their way. Try not to make it anymore difficult than it needs to be. Karma’s a bitch. And also, I’d really just like to keep on believing that people are better than that.

all the lonely people

I have come to the conclusion that loneliness is one of the world’s biggest afflictions, one of its biggest motivators, and its most common curse.

People do the craziest things to feel like they’re a part of something. It may sound dramatic – but I would argue that it is the truth – to say that people have been known to risk their lives for some company, rather then to go it alone. And sometimes, it’s not that one grand act but the little everyday acts that show how alone you really are. Routines, such as sticking with a group that care nothing for each other, but would rather stand together, look unified, and feel some odd version of support rather then to go on their own path.

And so often, the lonely people don’t even know they’re lonely.

It doesn’t hit you until one day, that group gets tired of each other, the relationship falls to pieces, or everyone has just moved on. And then you sit there thinking that maybe you should call someone, but there’s no one to call. And then you think that you should get out of the house, which results in you realizing that there is no where to go. And then it occurs to you that you’ve ostracized everyone around you, and how that maybe that wasn’t such a good idea. It’s then that you sadly accept that for some of those old friendships its too late, its your fault, and that you’re just going to have to fight every day on your own.

I’m sitting here thinking that if I just turn the dial on music up a few notches, maybe I won’t notice the silence setting in. It’s going to be a long road back.

looking back

I remember when I was five.

Well, actually, I don’t know if that’s a fair statement. My mind holds some glimpses of the past, and I do have some scattered actual memories. When I really think about it, I can’t be sure anymore of what really happened, and what are merely the things that I remember happening. I suppose I could have dreamt most of it, all of it having become so foggy and blurred together that its hard to distinguish now.

I can honestly say though, that I remember the feeling of five. I remember a time when I could experience pure joy from the simplest things. I remember innocence, and having no knowledge of the world or what was in it, but still having complete confidence that I knew it all.  I remember when my tiny problems seemed so large, and I would stubbornly and fiercely struggle to conquer them. At the time, I couldn’t imagine anything more difficult or more painful

When did it all change.

It’s different now. When I was young, I could not even begin to fathom that my life would be the way it is at this moment. All of this was unimaginable. It a neutral sort of way, not necessarily in being good or bad. But in the sort of way that could not even occur to the mind of a five year old. The sort of way that they could not wrap their mind around. Unimaginable.

You grow as life grows. Slowly and painfully learning from your experiences, and gaining the tools you need to take it all on. But even though I have grown, I don’t think I can say that it gets easier. However, I know when I am twice the age I am now, I will look back yet again. I will think how good it was then, and how hard it is now.

All my current problems will have been resolved some way or another. And my situation then will be a product and end result of those solutions.

Everyone is incredibly caught up in their so-called life-changing decisions. Wouldn’t it be ironic if one day, it turns out that those decisions didn’t matter? And that it was something as silly as missing the bus, stumbling over a crack in the sidewalk, or smiling at a stranger that changed the course of everything.

It will not even begin to dawn on us until the moment has passed us by. Later, we may look back and see the fine print. We may be able to see it all, and want to relive some of the better times. But perhaps we will wish we could rewrite, start over, rewind, erase. And it will be only then that it hits us that there is no going back.

I am certain that life will continue to alter around me at what seems now like a slow rate, but at the end will prove to have been a breakneck pace. Just as when I was five, I can’t even imagine.

But as for now, life feels to me that it is impossible for it to become more heartwrenching, more complicated, and any more full of mistakes. I feel that it could not possibly hold any more of these things for me, lest it burst at the seams.