Writing Challenge: Days 25 and 26

Another double post because I can't keep up...


Day 25: Four weird things about me

1.  Whenever I travel over water, via a bridge, I hold my breath the whole way. Also, I worry that I might drive the van directly over the edge of things at any moment. This feeling rises up when I'm passing transport trucks on the highway, too.

2. I didn't used to mind driving on the 401. Now, if I have to go past Oshawa, Peterborough or Kingston (coincidentally, my "limit" cities for hockey games and tournaments, if *I* am required to drive there) I have tons of anxiety and once chewed through six packs of spearmint gum in three hours.

3. I am afraid of things that live in water. I watched "River Monsters" once and feel that it was, quite possibly, once of the worst decisions of my whole life. And I've made some super bad ones...

4. I am addicted to J.D. Robb novels and have read every single one of them, so far. I have almost read every novel written by Nora Roberts, too. I may have a teensy little problem...

Day 26: Things I'd Say to an Ex

I'm sorry.

I love you.

Thank you.

Writing Challenge: Something I Miss

I miss lots of things:

My brother
Being thin
Sleeping past 7 a.m.
Being in school
Being short enough to lay full out in the bathtub (so, basically, I miss being 8)
Chiclets gum

My black blazer that I think I accidentally gave away to charity
Arches in my feet
Cobourg beach
Whistler and walking the Valley Trail home, no matter where I lived.
Being pregnant
Nursing
Little boy sleepers
My striped mittens
Truck stops
Having everything I own fit into a backpack
Ireland - a place I've never been, except in dreams.

Writing Challenge: Days 20-23 Because I Cannot Keep Up

Let's face it, folks....keeping up is not my gig. Clearly. But rambling about a variety of unconnected stuff IS my gig, so I'm all about this post today....erm, days.....


Annnnyhooo....

20th Question: 3 Songs on Shuffle and what my initial thought is:

(Incidentally, I did not know, until this posting, that iTunes will shuffle the music I download and then play it. Huh. Neat.)

The first song: "Stutter" by Marianas Trench. This is one my FAVOURITE car songs. My sons and I belt this one as a trio and there is usually ceiling drumming and seat grooving. Yep. We're cool like that.

Second tune: "True Colours" (Compilation) Another great sing-a-long song. We do wicked harmony with this one, if I do say so myself. A Pretty song, twisted into something louder, bigger, and blingier. As an added bonus, my sons throw themselves into the rap bit, which is hilarious to watch in the rear-view mirror. yo.


Third song: "O" by Coldplay. This is a hidden track from their "Ghost Stories" album and it closes my throat because I miss my brother and the children we were and the Fireplace Inns at Whistler, which is in no way connected to my brother, but this song sounds like how I felt, watching my very first snowfall there, a million years ago. I miss the girl I was there, too.

Maybe I just miss myself.


21st: My zodiac sign and does it suit me?


Sagittarius: (pinched from www.astrology.com)

"Sagittarius in a Nutshell:

Sagittarius seem to be guided by luck, good things happen to Sagittarius and this is usually because of their optimistic outlook and positive disposition which attracts good fortune. Despite hardships, Sagittarius is always optimistic that good things will happen tomorrow and the future carries good luck. Sagittarius have a vibrant, expansive personality that is free like a bird, Sagittarius cannot be contained. They are full of curiosity and they always look forward to the future, never dwelling on the past. Sagittarius are detached from emotions because emotions hold a person back, they do not like to talk about their feelings, they simply experience them and move on. Sagittarius can be reckless and irresponsible because they will jump at a suggestion of something new before they weigh the advantages and disadvantages. "

Yes, this is me. I am this. EXCEPT for the detached emotions bit. I have lots of emotions. I swim in them most of the time and likely express far too many of them.

Also, I spend a LOT of time in the past, in my head. Some would say too much time reliving and regretting instead of forging on, being athletic and charming and doing archery-type things...

Good thing I'm lucky, eh?


Day 22: My morning routine:


GET OUT OF BED! BRUSH YOUR TEETH! NO, YOU CAN'T WEAR YESTERDAY'S UNDERPANTS! BRUSH THEM, DON'T JUST SWISH THE TOOTHPASTE AROUND WITH YOUR TONGUE! DON'T MAKE ME COME UP THERE, BECAUSE IT WON'T BE PLEASANT...LEAVE YOUR BROTHER'S EYEBALLS ALONE!

And coffee. Blessed coffee....

Day 23: A family member I dislike

Seriously? No. I'm not answering this one. I am a people-PLEASER, not a family-war-starter.

Sheesh.

Writing Challenge: Favourite Colour and Five Fears

Another combination post. I think it's safe to say that this trend will continue...

My favourite colour?

Red.

Of course.

Five Fears.

Well, these are pleasant to contemplate (she says, oozing sarcasm)

1. Losing one of my children. Period, full-stop, this is, as I think it's every parent's, worst nightmare. I fear losing them in death, to a stranger, to the world. I once lost Matt in the mall for about 5 minutes and I discovered that icy, soul-destroying terror. I don't care for it. Don't care to ever experience it again and wonder how I shall ever let the children go, when it's time?

2. Dying and leaving the children behind. I've had a few friends who waged mighty battles against vicious diseases but lost. They both left behind two beautiful children and it closes my throat to think about their grief.

3. Heights. Although I DID go on the "Drop Zone" ride at the Waterfront Festival this summer, much to my children's shock and awe. It was awful and wonderful, in the same screech.

4. That I will never actually balls up and try to write for profit. I did, once upon a time, but lost my nerve, somewhere along the way. It's coming, but it's slow-going and I want to bang my own head against the wall and ask myself, "WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR???"

5. I'm scared of walking out of this room and never feeling the rest of my whole life the way I feel when I'm with....wait....somebody already said that one....

Nevertheless, I think it's one fear we all share, in one way or another.

Writing Challenge: Quotes to Live By

Boy, I'm honking at this challenge. I've skipped a bunch of days, here and am lazy, so I'm just going to answer today's challenge:

Two quotes that resonate deeply with me are these:

Photo courtesy of "Simple Reminders"



My dad has spent my entire life gently reminding me of this truth. From him, it is accompanied by a gentle tossing of his hands over his shoulders, as if to say, "It's behind you now."


The second quote that I love is part of a bigger piece called "Desiderata" a copy of which hangs on my family room wall. I enjoy the entire poem by Max Ehrmann, but the last few lines have touched my heart forever and they are these:

 

Writing Challenge: Two Words That Make me Laugh

1. Douchebaggery.

Is this not the BEST. WORD EVER? Douchebag all by itself is marvellous - two syllables, that delicious "ch" sound and a hard end. Douche. Bag. Say it out loud. Feel how lovely that is on your tongue?

Douchebaggery is even MORE delicious, isn't it? As in, "I wish he'd quit his douchebaggery ways right now!" (Adjective) OR "Stop your douchebaggery this instant!" (verb-y type word)

It's a multipurpose, made-up piece of yum!


2. Moist

This is a word that many people loathe - their reactions to its use are swift and surprisingly fierce. I hadn't really thought about moist much until an online friend expressed her misgivings about it. A mad and hilarious thread soon followed and for years afterward, we'd tease her about it, the way sleep-deprived internet besties will do.

Even now, a  decade or so in, someone will occasionally post a Moist Meme on her Facebook wall and I always giggle when I see it.

With apologies to Brooke, whom I love.

Writing Challenge: Relationship Status

I have been married to Mark for 12 years. Despite those years and the five we spent torturing getting to know each other before taking vows of forever,  we remain woefully unqualified to talk about marriage with any kind of wise authority.

In fact, I think it's safe to say that we are the cautionary tale upon which all pre-nuptial counselling sessions should be based.

We are the "what NOT to do" list.

Still...we have learned  some stuff. Well, I have. I shouldn't speak for Mark. He gets twitchy about that sort of thing.

1. Marriage works when your crazy complements someone ELSE's crazy.

When you're both control freaks who like to avoid confrontation but yell like lunatics far, far too often, this can make for a fraught relationship. HOWEVER, when the stars align and everyone's slept well and the full moon has passed and someone served lasagna for dinner, then our dysfunction can be funny. Maybe just to us?

2. Sleeping arrangements should be re-negotiated yearly. Perhaps monthly, depending on the moon cycle.

Mostly, that means that when my husband sticks to HIS side and doesn't allow his foot to stray onto MY side, all is well. When he doesn't press "snooze" 104 times before 5 a.m. well, that's loving and respectful and makes it so that I am more inclined to go downstairs and make coffee instead of passive-aggressively flushing the toilet while he's in the shower and then hiding behind the door when he yanks the curtain aside to holler.

Also, it's helpful that he can sleep through anything, including my dead-sexy sleep apnea machine.

(Dead-sexy, people. When paired with bed socks, a hooded sweatshirt and flannel pj bottoms, my bedroom attire is irresistible...)

*Pause for me to snort-laugh*

3. Communication is key.

We communicate, just not well. Do better than us and you're well on your way to wedded bliss. Or something...

Writing Challenge DAYS 9 and 10: Aging Fruit

Two topics today, short and sweet:

1. How I feel about ageism:  it sucks.

2. I don't care for kiwis. I don't like the mushy green on my tongue or the little black seeds that end up in my teeth. Also, they taste like they WANT to be watermelon, but they're trying too hard.

Photo credit: Pinterest

30 Day Challenge: DAY ??? A-Two-For-One Post

I've skipped some days, it seems. Hockey has taken over my life, as it does every winter. I don't mind so much, but will now cram two posts into one:


1. Do you have any tattoos and do they have special meaning?

Yes. I have one, on my lower back. It's a small, ancient Eyptian symbol meaning, "Freedom" something I valued highly in my 20s. I have never regretted getting it, only wish for more. Strangely, I do not have a photo of it. Must right that soon.

I'd like one to represent my sons, who are my most favourite people in the world. This is one I've been mulling over. It's a Celtic symbol for motherhood:

2. A book I love, a book I didn't.

One of my most favourite books ever is called "One Child" by Torey Hayden. I read it first when I was about 12, again as I entered my 20s and have read a half dozen times since. Torey, a teacher, tells the true story of a little girl who came into her Special Education class during the 1970s. Sheila, was wild and broken, but throughout their time together, the two formed an intense bond and ultimately, Torey's dedication and love for Sheila, transformed them both.

I now work as an EA, working with students with special needs. Entire passages of the book, are especially poignant to me now and come to my mind in full paragraphs. I wonder, sometimes, at the seeds planted, all those years ago.


One of my least favourite books is "The Shack" - a story about a man called "Mack" who loses a child, meets God, finds peace and redemption. The book was written, I suppose, to be uplifting and spiritual but  I was left feeling manipulated and depressed. I forced myself to finish it, but immediately wished that I hadn't.

30 Day Writing Challenge: DAY SIX: Who Fascinates Me and Why

I don't know what happened to Day 5....it disappeared somewhere inside the chaos of my week. Day 6, according to the original list, tasks me with writing about someone who fascinates me and why.

This was much harder to contemplate than I'd anticipated, but it's Friday and so I'm cutting myself some slack:

I am a big fan of the TV show "Love It or List It" which airs on the "W" Network.

The hosts of the Toronto version of the show are called David and Hilary, a real estate agent and a designer, respectively. The two bicker and bitch and verbally stab each other throughout the show's one hour run. Sometimes hints of affection peek through too, although whether they're real or contrived is hard to tell.

Hilary's job is to redesign a couple's home in order to convince them to continue living in it. David Visentin, the real estate side of the bickering duo, is meanwhile scouring the city for the couple's dream home, in a bid to have them sell their home (post-renovation) and buy a newer, better, bigger one.

David Visentin from 'Love it or List it" Photo courtesy of the W Network

I am FASCINATED by David - I often find myself wondering if he's actually as impatient and eye-rolly as the show suggests or if it's all put on for TV.

Still, I love his eye-rolling wit and his dry, self-effacing humour.  I love the way he sighs at his partner's insults and never seems to get really, REALLY angry with her. I love the way he cut through dithering and bullshit and the way he sort of smirks at the camera whenever he's the last one to leave a bathroom.

And his suits...I love them, too.

One day, I shall FB/Twitter stalk him and ask all kinds of impertinent questions but for now, I just enjoy creating back stories for him while I sit in my pyjamas, casting judgement from my couch.

30 Day Writing Challenge: DAY FOUR (10 Interesting Things About Me)

"Interesting" is relative, I suppose, but I have mulling over this post all day. It's harder than it seems, really, to come up with facts about myself that are new and/or interesting.

But here goes, anyway:


1. I hate feet on feet. Baby feet on mine, adult feet on mine....ugh. Nope. Get 'em OFF OF ME! It sort of drives my husband crazy, especially since I pull socks on my feet before climbing into bed, but really, he should stop trying. That definitely drives me crazy.

2. I have never smoked pot. I know, right? Seems totally out-of-character, but it's true. In related news, my Facebook status tonight was all about how the spaghetti sauce I made to go with our pasta smelled like pot. Hey, I may never have smoked it, but I've definitely smelled it.

3. I just asked my kids and I think that their ideas warrant sharing here:

a) I'm funny.
b) I wear glasses.
c) I love them.
d) I'm a good cook. (Please see #2)
e) I'm obsessed with Facebook.
f) I made up a "Swear Jar" to curb my own cursing
g) I sometimes take naps on the couch.

4. My husband is now chiming in:

a) I have "the tingle" (a kind of knowing, like pre-cognition or memory-capturing. It's weird)
b) I don't actually DRINK the Baileys I talk about drinking, I just think about it and then drink tea.
c) I hate being wrong, even though, according to him, I am often wrong.

5. I love eternity scarves. If I could wear one every day, I would. This could become a problem soon. It might already be one...

6.  I am sad that this is so hard...

7. Whenever I visit my parents' house, I spend the first few minutes moving through each room and opening their closets, inhaling the scent of home and making sure everything is where it's supposed to be. I am beginning to realize that this is not a charming quirk, but is perhaps a bit obsessive and maybe a little bit...creepy.

8. I don't really care if #8 is creepy...I'm doing it anyway.

9. I don't swim in large bodies of water that are not pools because things LIVE IN THE WATER. Those things might eat my feet. Or me. Nope. Not doing it.

10. Whatever, Mark. I am usually right. Except for all things math. Then, I can be counted on to be wrong. Also, I cannot parallel park at all. I will drive three blocks and walk before even trying.

30-Day Writing Challenge DAY THREE: My Earliest Memory

I think I was three, so this must have been 1976 or so.

Christmas Eve - long after night had fallen. I woke up needing to pee and so padded across my bedroom, barefoot and desperate.

"Mummy?" I peeked out into the darkened hallway, crossing my legs underneath my nightgown, dancing a little. "I need to go to the bathroom."

I waited, willing her to hear me over the classical music that was the soundtrack of my childhood.

Nothing. I re-crossed my legs and crept a little further into the hall, squinting down the stairs into the family room, where my parents usually sat, chatting and listening to music.

"Mummy?"

No answer.

I was alone.

Suddenly terrified, I wet myself, standing right there, in the hallway. And then I cried.

I cried while I ran back into my room and jammed my wet nightie into the dirty clothes hamper. Cried as I pulled a fresh, clean one from my drawer and over my head. Cried some more as I dragged myself to the couch, tucked myself into the corner of it and then directed my gaze to the Christmas tree lights, blazing merrily.



Vaguely, I wondered if Santa would take me with him when he came, seeing as I was all alone now. I wondered too, what I'd done to make my parents leave me behind - surely I hadn't been that naughty?

As I began to mentally tally my potential transgressions, there was a sudden whoosh of cold and then there they were, my parents. Chattering, calling "Merry Christmas!" over their shoulders and waving into the dark night behind them.

As they came laughing into the room, they spied me and stopped in their tracks, happy smiles gone.

"Elizabeth?" My mum, her voice gentle and low, moved to sit next to me on the couch.

"I had to pee!" I wailed and then hurled myself into her arms, sobbing wildly, not even caring that she was still wearing her winter coat and that it was covered in snow. "Where did you gooooo?"

"We were just next door, love. Just wishing the neighbours a Merry Christmas. We were barely gone and you were sleeping...."

"I HAD TO PEE!" I bellowed a second time, furious with them that they had not been where they were supposed to be, that I felt compelled to report my movements to them at all, (which was not their doing, just a funny little quirk of mine) and had, as a result of both, peed on the carpet on Christmas Eve.

...

Years later, I am mostly over this early trauma. But I'll admit this: whenever I wake up in the night to use the bathroom (something that happens far too often for my liking, really) I will always detour into my children's bedroom on the way back to mine....just to make sure that everyone is where they're supposed to be.

Funny, isn't it, the stuff we carry?

30 Day Writing Challenge: DAY TWO (First Kiss and First Love)

First Kiss

I was 14 and standing where two dirt roads met, holding hands with a boy who’d likely learned to walk on them, barefoot. He was older and probably wiser about a lot of things I had no business knowing and his hand was on my hip, warming my skin with a heat that had nothing to do with being cold.

When his lips covered mine, I sucked in my breath and shoved the gum I’d been carefully chewing to the roof of my mouth, willing it not to fall as his tongue met mine. Shocked, I opened my eyes and stared at his eyelids, squinted closed under a furrowed brow. He was concentrating very hard, it seemed. Finally, I yanked my mouth back from his and into the sudden gap, fell my gum. It landed in a green mess on the ground between us.

 We both looked down.

We both looked up.

And then we both used our sleeves to wipe our mouths, giggling.

I met him again when I was about 24. He was a customer I was serving at a local truck stop where I’d been for so many years, it felt more like a series of conversations over coffee, than work.

In any case, I teased him, the man before me, grown tall and handsome in a hard-life kind of way. Running my fingers across the tattoos that covered his arms, I traced a snake up to his neck and smiled at his friends: “This guy here...he was the first boy I ever kissed.”

And he chuckled and they hooted, the way I knew they would.

“I was,” he drawled, a bit embarrassed, a bit proud, I think. “We had no business duelling tongues that way, then, did we?”

I laughed out loud; charmed at the old-fashioned words and the shy way he delivered them to me, looking down as he was, at his boots.

“I guess not, but there’s no telling that to teenagers, is there?”

“Guess not,” he agreed and then snagged my hand in his. Surprised, I kept my fingers in a loose fist, until he gently pried them loose and pressed a small rectangle into my hand.

And he waited until my eyes met his and then he winked.

I uncurled my fingers and then burst out laughing, delighted: there, in the palm of my hand, sat an unwrapped piece of spearmint gum. Green, like the gum I’d been chewing, all those years ago.

“Now, every time you chew a piece of gum, you’ll think of me,” he said quietly and then curled his hand back around his coffee mug, titled his gaze up to mine and grinned.

That same sexy, dangerous grin that had captured my teenaged imagination – and mouth - a decade before.

I think of him from time to time.  Usually while chewing spearmint gum.

 It is, after all, my favourite.

 

 

First Love

It was glorious and hot and messy and heartbreaking and breathless and angst-filled and funny and not and I will always love him because he made the plain girl that I was, feel beautiful.

 

 

30 Day Writing Challenge: DAY ONE

*Last month, a friend tagged me on Facebook, offered up this challenge. Happily, I accept!*

Day One:

5 Problems With Social Media

1. That the person we craft ourselves to be on social media, is NOT, in fact, the person we ARE.

We, as a society, are presenting only our best selves, our polished homes, our shiniest moments. Some people feel that this is the same thing as lying.

Maybe it is, but somehow this doesn't bother me as much as it probably should.

Why WOULDN'T I want you to see my children smiling instead of rolling their eyes, my hair on a good day instead of a usual one and be offered a glimpse of the state of my mind kitchen most mornings, versus last night when I was just too tired to deal?

2. When other people post photos of me on Facebook.

I want to grab those people and shake them and say, "Are you SERIOUS, right now? Why would you DO that?"

Cut that sh*t out, people! If I have more than one chin in the photo, either because of the angle at which the photo was taken or because I have gained too much weight, I DON'T WANT TO SEE ME on Facebook. Unless I've vetted myself beforehand. (Please see #1)

3. That online relationships and friendships are shallow and one-dimensional.

I think I'm supposed to agree with that one, too. Except that I don't. Well, not entirely. SOME of my online friendships are superficial and light and I like them that way. Other online relationships are rich and full and enrich my life in ways I sometimes feel that I don't deserve.

I need and appreciate both kinds, as much as I appreciate that I can engage or not with all of my peeps when it works for me.

I am NOT, as it turns out, the kind of person who appreciates pop-bys, in real life or on social media. I need a moment to take a breath before opening the door (or Facebook) to others - just as I enjoy the chance to type out my thoughts before sharing them (I often don't know what I think or feel until I've written it.) This perk in not available to me in real life, where I often speak before thinking and say the wrong thing...

4. Social media encourages "hashtag thinking" and the dumbing down of big thoughts.

Ever tried to distill a thought, idea or phrase into 140 characters, well? It's an art form. It's a mental challenge, it's a gift and it's not a dumbing down...it's a lifting up. The ability to tease, intrigue and inform in as few words as possible is a  beautiful and charming skill.

As for hashtags...I dig 'em. In the overall, I mean. They add flavour and spice to a simple post and some of my friends plant their best words after the # sign. It's a bit of a fun game, really, finding the wit and wisdom, allsmushedtogetherlikethis.

5.  On social media, some stuff just isn't true.

Yep. Social media is rife with lies and miscommunication. Some people share opinions as though they are FACT and others share lies as though they are TRUTH.

Our computers aren't able to do the critical thinking for us. That's still on US, to do the work.

Go figure.