I’m amBEDextrous… and you?

Over the last couple of months, I’ve been working on breaking an old habit.  I’ve been teaching myself to sleep on the other side of the bed.

It’s weird, I know, but have you ever really put any thought into why it is that you sleep where you sleep?

I recently did some Googling to see what was most common and if there were any gender-defined roles in regards to what side of the bed people sleep on.  The results were slightly confusing as the orientation of where one is when considering this isn’t always clear.  For example, if I picture myself in bed, I would say that I sleep on the right side but oftentimes, people refer to sides from the perspective of standing at the foot and looking towards the bed, in which case I would sleep on the left.  Some of the other information stated that much of our habits today are based on old traditions, which is understandable, but even the traditions discussed tended to contradict each other.  I suppose it’s all sort of irrelevant but I was curious and thus ended up with less answers than I had hoped.

Regardless, I did find out that I like to sleep on the side that is typically favored by men, which I shouldn’t have been surprised about considering that in both of my co-habitative (I think I just made that term up) relationships, I had to kick up a fuss to get a good night’s sleep.  It’s also presented itself when I’ve stayed with platonic male friends and we’ve bickered over who gets to sleep where.  I’ve never really figured out why it was that I was always so insistent on sleeping on this side, it just seemed more comfortable.  It’s the way it has always been and it’s been a tough habit to break.

The funny thing is that I don’t even have a reason to change my sleeping habits.  I frequently change the location of my alarm clock to make it more difficult to hit the snooze button, but changing sides of the bed???  It just seems silly and kind of pointless but I suppose I have my reasons.

I guess a part of the change manifested itself over the last year, as I realized that even though I’m no longer sharing this space, I still slept close to the edge with nothing but emptiness at my back.  When I bought my bed, I intentionally bought a queen size, assuming that it would be a long-term investment and might get shared again one day, but yet I’d be crammed all the way over as if waiting for someone to come along.  I woke up at one point and realized that for one person, my bed is HUGE and I should have been relishing the amount of space that I could spread out on rather than curling up in a little ball all the way at the edge.

My habit became particularly troublesome when out camping this summer, while sharing an air mattress and sleeping on the opposite side from what I was accustomed to.  I tried to turn over in my sleep but not realizing where I was, I actually fell off and landed on the tent floor in the middle of the night.  I knew something had to change.  No one person should be this reliant on an old habit.

So… I shook things up Shauna-style.  I not only changed where my trusty alarm clock was but I also started getting into bed on the other side.  I don’t really try to sleep all the way on the opposite side per se, but I work very hard not to sleep the way I used to.  From time to time, I fall back on my comfort zone but for the most part, it’s been a relatively smooth transition.

I still have nights where I nearly end up catapulting myself onto the floor but more often than not, I end up in some odd diagonal sprawl where no one in their right mind would dare try to fit in with me.  I guess it’s a good thing.

My bed, my beloved treasure and representation of home is mine, all mine and I wouldn’t have it any other way… for now.

Cacti: My archnemeses

There were several childhood family vacations that will go down in history thanks to things that happened with either my brother, my sister or myself.  We always had some sort of disaster to contend with but I would like to think that this is fairly normal… maybe I’m just kidding myself.

One trip that stands out to all of us was a trip to Grandma Bud’s cabin at Lake Diefenbaker (?) in Saskatchewan.  The majority of the trip is fuzzy to me because I was perhaps 3 or 4 years old at the time but there are certain aspects that are crystal clear.

Grandma Bud was the grandmother of our family friends and she lived just down the street from us, whereas our grandmothers both lived in Manitoba.  She often babysat us or we would go play with her grandkids when they were staying with her.  I don’t remember her well, as I was very young, but I do remember the layout of her house and going to visit her when no one else was there just because I liked her so much.

Anyway, this specific trip was on the disastrous side thanks to yours truly.  I was the youngest of the group of us (by several years) and although I was often a pain to be around, the other kids frequently got stuck with me so our parents could all have some kid-free time.  So without a parent in sight, we were out playing, wandering around and just being kids.  It was great… until I accidentally stepped on a cactus.

This would have been relatively minor in and of itself but not only was I wearing flip flops, I apparently hadn’t mastered the theory of cause and effect.

Rather than stepping away from the cactus patch and going back to nurse my wounds – I freaked… and started jumping up and down, screaming.  Even the jumping by itself would have hurt because I had cactus needles in my feet but I continued to jump ON the cacti, collecting more and more needles with each bounce, the pain of each landing sending me into further frenzies of jumping.

Smart kid, I know.

At some point either one of the kids went back to get our parents or the adults heard the commotion and came running.  Of which, I can’t be sure but regardless, one of the adults came and hoisted me out of the cactus patch, carried me back to the cabin and set me down so I could spend the remainder of the day having cactus needles pulled from my little feet.

My poor parents.  That must have been awful.

The good news is that to this day, I still have friends and family who stand by me and watch helplessly as I make mistakes and get hurt.  They try to provide direction but I’m stubborn and will often jump repeatedly, hoping for different results, despite their warnings.  At the end of whatever cactus patch I’ve gotten myself into, they continue to carry me to a safe place where I can remove those needles and heal with time.  After all is said and done, they also poke fun at me for my stupidity… I wouldn’t have it any other way.

I guess some things never change and for that I’m grateful.

So there’s your schmoopy post for this Thanksgiving weekend.  Yes, I promised to stray away from them but I figured it was fitting with the holiday.

Lots of love to all.  Thanks for being a part of my life.  xo

Life less ordinary

My apologies for taking so much time to write a new post but it would appear that the last few weeks have been rather busy.

A full year (and then some) since I left Etown, my life has returned to a state of extraordinary normalcy.  I get up early, go to work, return home, put on my pjs and relax until I go to bed…  It’s fabulous (and rarely this simple but the days which are, I enjoy immensely).

I become a bit more enchanted with the kids at work every day and I don’t see myself growing tired of it any time soon, although I am exhausted at the end of each day.  It’s amazing how much energy it takes to work with kids.  I don’t think I’ve ever given any of my teachers or my friends who are now teachers enough credit.  I guess we are all students at school, whether it’s the intended purpose or not.

Even though I’ve now fallen into some level of routine, I’m still having a lot of fun and enjoying every minute of my new life.  Some days are mundane, others are beyond busy and the rest often make me giggle uncontrollably at things that have happened.

Mere days before beginning my new job, I was on a sail boat (the type used for sport sailing) in the middle of the St. Lawrence when I sat up suddenly and exclaimed “Oh my God.  I live in Montreal!”

One might think that this thought would have occurred to me before then but I believe that this specific moment was when it all became real.

After relaying this story to a couple of people though, they were more surprised that I was on a boat.  I don’t like boats or open water.  I never have.  Apparently this changed over the course of the summer because I’ve found myself saying that I would really like a boat some day and I’ve been eagerly anticipating my next excursion on the water.  I cannot pretend that I am not uncoordinated or nervous when doing such things (it’s a small miracle that nothing has capsized yet) but I’m getting better.

This past weekend I went camping at a lake a couple of hours north of Montreal.  The land is owned by the province and as such, it is virtually untouched by anyone but campers and hikers.  In order to set up camp, one must either hike through the woods or have a boat.  With that said, I never thought I would have a canoe strapped to the roof of my car but I can now say I have.

Despite the cold nights, the weather was ideal and I, the die hard city girl, roughed it… and I mean really roughed it.  There were no outhouses, sinks or anything of the sort.  I drank water from the lake and tried chewing on wintergreen, picked fresh from the ground.  It was beyond unique for me.  The last night there, I even managed to get in and out of a canoe in the dark, while shivering and after drinking a couple of “pops.”  I’m still surprised that they didn’t have to drag me out of the depths of the lake.

The following day, I went wading in a shallow part of the water where I was picking up clams, running from frogs and giggling at the hilarity of my partner in crime who had given himself a mud scrub.  It was entertaining, to say the least.

Another recent new experience was having the pleasure of showing my parents my new place and my new town.  Granted, they had done the big drive from the ‘burbs to Etown to visit me but let’s be honest – it’s different when you live across the country.  They were in town for nearly two weeks and I camped out on my couch so that they could have my bed.  The visit was welcome and they spoiled me rotten.  I took them to some of my favorite places and they took me shopping.  I can’t complain in the slightest.

I guess my promise to myself about trying new things and living life without regret has really paid off.  Each time I am faced with something that terrifies me, I try to work past it and this decision making process has contributed to my evolution into the person who I’ve always wanted to be.  I’ve discovered that adulthood can be a lot of fun and that if one wants to be truly happy, they must take chances.  It’s not a novel idea but one which I had never really employed before.  It feels good to actually do it.

That’s the extent of my news these days.  With mixed emotions, I have seen the leaves start to change colors.  I am sad to see summer go but I eagerly anticipate autumn and winter.  I plan on trying a bunch of other things I’ve never done before so I’m sure there will be more stories and pictures to come.  It would seem that some stability has been really good for me (not to mention my appreciation of weekends) but I don’t plan on falling into the same old habits that I used to have.  It’s too much fun doing everything else.

Until next time, dear friends.  xo

Welcome back to real life

It’s hard to believe that it was a year ago today that I was saying goodbye to my friends and coworkers on my last day as an employed Albertan.  I was filled with fear and excitement, insecurity and expectation.  It was a difficult day but one that will stand out as being monumental because of it’s representation of what the following year would hold.

It’s been a year of firsts and lasts, of new beginnings and tragic ends but each time I enter my little apartment, I am reminded of why I am here and what it took to get me to a life that is so far from ordinary.

One of the best firsts I have had was my first week at my new job.  Although I know I could have found a job sooner and done things differently, I am thrilled that I held out and got the job that I did.  I think it will be an amazing fit.

Earlier this week, I approached my new workplace (a school for children with disabilities) with great fear and trepidation.  It was like my first day of school in Alberta after my move from Saskatchewan all over again.  I could barely say my own name, nevermind allow my personality to come through.  I was a nobody again and didn’t have contacts or reputation to fall back on like I had over the last several years.  I was shy, meek and felt horribly out of place but thankfully, this feeling of inadequacy didn’t last long.

As it turns out, my new coworkers are amazing.  They are passionate, funny and outgoing.  They had no reservations about taking me under their wings and making me feel welcome.  I realized that although I left much behind me career-wise, I was not incapable of building a professional persona here.  Like everything else, it will just take time and I’m perfectly okay with that.

The job itself is a teaching assistant position working with some of the youngest kids in the school.  I will be dividing my time between two classes and helping out as needed.  I have met only one student so far, as classes don’t begin until Monday but if the rest are half as cute as her, I will be in heaven.

Even though I thoroughly enjoyed my year off, my emotional and financial states dictated that it was time to go back.  Meeting new people and having meaningful purpose to my day have been the absolute highlights of the last week.  I still find that my quiet time alone is comforting and necessary but having spent much of the last year in solitude, I anticipate that this time (in moderation) has become a fixture to my emotional well-being.  It’s time that I rarely granted myself before but I realize its value now and intend on maintaining it.

With this new stability, my adventure has not ended.  I think it’s only just begun.  Life will continue to evolve and surprise me at every turn.  I will continue to go with my gut and step blindly into new experiences when they feel right.  This decision making process has brought me this far and taking risks has paid off.  So here I go… Thanks for coming along with me.

xo

Life in a Nutshell

I’ve made the resolve to cease my rather schmoopy posts about how much I love life and my loved ones.  It’s not that this rose-colored view has depleted or that I don’t think that my people deserve it, it’s just that there are other things to write about and I can only assume that reading the same old stuff day after day can become tiresome after awhile.

So here it is… but now what to write about?

Well, for starters, I found a job.  I start August 25 and I’ll be working in a private school for kids with disabilities.  As a teacher’s assistant, I’ll be floating between three classes of 4-6 year-olds and spending my days singing and playing amongst other (more serious) things.  I am rather excited to enter the workforce again, although I am a tad nervous and sad that I must leave my leisurely life behind.  With that said, I know it’s necessary because my bank account and lull in brain use dictate that it’s time.

With this taken into account, I also have decided to let my apartment go at the end of my lease.  I love it dearly as it was the first home that I’ve had in many years but my job won’t pay me enough to stay in the neighborhood, especially while living alone.  I have found a potential roommate, with whom I get along very well, and she and I will set out in September to start looking for our new place.  This will give us a few months to be really choosy and find the apartment that will suit us both.  I will miss living alone but the reality of the situation is that if I want to eat, I need to make some financial changes.  Such is life.

I have made several friends here but many of them are foreigners seeking a way to immigrate to Canada and must leave for awhile to get all of their necessary requirements in order.  I am sad to see them go but I know that many of them I will see upon their return.  In the meantime, I just need to figure out a way to save enough money to go and visit them.  Regardless, they’ve made the last few months highly enjoyable and they have assisted me in seeing why it is that our country is so great.

Much of my time right now is spent living the dream.  I spend a lot of time in the park either reading a book or with friends playing cards, drinking beer or just chatting.  I have also taken up fishing as a hobby, despite my inability to touch any of the fish or clams that I catch… but it’s not for lack of trying.  Whenever I think I’ve got the guts to do it, I encounter a vision of them biting me with Fred Flintstone-like results.  I’ll do it one of these days but for now, I’m always grateful to have a friend to do it for me.  I’ve also come up with a system to bait my hook with worms without having to touch them more than once or twice but I am even better at baiting my friends into taking care of the dirty work while I watch and squirm.  It’s much easier this way and I walk away with far fewer hook-related injuries.

And then there’s me… just me.  All my mushy emotions are finally starting to sort themselves out.  My departure from Denmark and relationship with E haunted me for months.  It followed me everywhere and instilled a fear of trusting people… something that I had never really experienced before.  I very intentionally avoided writing about anything to do with dating or relationships for a long time because it was too fresh and the hurt that I experienced was unlike anything that I had ever gone through.  I ended up burying a lot of it rather than letting it go, which proved to be very detrimental to my emotional health for awhile.

Now, I am doing great.  Fabulous even.  I’ve allowed myself to be sad, to be angry and to let the hurt and betrayal run their courses.  I still have days where I am disconnected and out of sorts but they are fewer and further between.  I guess it still surprises me that something so brief can linger for so long.  I would like to think that I am usually very good at letting things go but for some reason, this one really got to me… again – such is life.  I’m moving on and that’s what counts.

So, that’s the very short version of a large amount of time and information.  In an ideal world, I would have dedicated a post to each of my updates but I promised myself that if I smashed it all together in one newsy entry, that the next ones would be lighter reads.  Now I just have to devise a plan so that I will stick to that promise.  In the meantime, I hope you are well.

Much love.  xo

So much more than Justafellow

I have had a handful of people profoundly influence my life.  Some told me things that I will never forget.  Some performed actions that changed the way that I think.  Some gave me a reason to appreciate everything that I have.  Nubie did all three.

Nubie was one of those people that everyone loved.  It was impossible not to.  He was funny, charming, friendly, honest and had a positive outlook on nearly everything.  He would give anything for his friends and they would give anything back.  He was just that kind of a person.  He also lived what seemed like a thousand lives in a very short time.  If you name it, he probably did it.  It was as if he knew that his time was limited so he had to cram as much in as he could.  It was inspiring.

With a story that’s too long to tell and quite irrelevant now, I had become disenchanted with many of my high school friends not long after my graduation.  There were some hurt feelings and far too much distrust but Nubie, without realizing it, brought me back to this group several years later.

Upon hearing that he was terminally ill with Cancer, I knew it was time that I re-establish my lost friendships.  It was not because Nubie was sick but his illness certainly acted as a catalyst.  I was quickly reminded that life was too short to hold onto old grudges and I wasn’t sure if I would ever get another chance to make peace with the people who had been with me through so much during my younger years.

The first time that I saw this group in its entirety in many, many years was Nubie’s CD release party.  I walked into the bar that night to see what felt like a reunion.  I was awed and humbled by these friends who I missed so much and who apparently had missed me. It felt great to be back even it would take a couple more years for me to really blend in like I had in the old days.

That night, Nubie said something that I will never forget.  It’s played a role and dictated much of what I do now, not to mention that it set the tone for much of what I’ve done for the last two years.

He said that since being diagnosed with Cancer, he had learned to walk a little slower.

Granted, I still walk with lightning speed pretty much everywhere I go but I do take more time to appreciate the little things around me.  I like to stop and enjoy the beauty of each day.  I have become fascinated with life and all it has to offer.  I love the people around me with everything that I can.  I take the time to see and feel everything I can, while I can, because I can.  His statement was a true gift and a reminder of how wonderful life is.

This year, one of my oldest friends got married.  She chose one of Nubie’s songs to play while she had her first dance with her husband.  All of the people at the wedding who knew him sat and smiled while holding back tears because of her heartfelt decision to have him involved in her special day.  He was there with us.  We could feel his presence whether we could see him or not.

After the dance a few of us went outside to get some air.  We just sat without speaking, knowing the hurt that each of us shared at the same time understanding why it was so important to hear his song and watch one of our closest friends dance to it.

I never got a chance to say goodbye to Nubie.  The days leading up to his passing, I was fighting what appeared to be an eye infection that I didn’t want to pass on.  I planned to go see him as soon as it was gone but I was too late.  He passed away on August 3, 2005… my 25th birthday.

I had never been a big fan of my birthday so it wasn’t of great importance in that respect but it changed how I celebrate that day for other reasons.  As a self-described party girl, it is the one day a year that I prefer to spend quiet time with my family or a group of close friends.  It is a gentle reminder that I should embrace the relationships that I have and that I should nourish them with things other than martinis.  It is a day where I love the people in my life just a little bit more because life is so fragile and I should not let go of those who I care about.  It’s a day where I am thankful for one of the greatest gifts I’ve ever received… the pleasure of knowing Nubie, even though it was only for a brief time.

So dear friend, thank you for being so much more than Justafellow.  We miss you but we know that one day, we will meet again.  Until then… xo

http://www.justafellow.com/

Montréal est chez nous.

The last month has been a particularly difficult one for me.  There is not one specific reason but instead, a melange of many different things.  It’s not a bad thing but it is part of the process of being me and finding me.  The unfortunate result is that I have been moody, irritable and generally unpleasant to be around.  I know that this can be difficult on my loved ones so I’ve been spending a lot of time alone to try to spare my new friends from my less-than-charming self.

The last time I was like this, life gave me a very precious gift.  It gave me SMEW.  I suddenly had two dear friends who understood the ups and downs of what I was going through and I understood theirs.  Together, we fought through a very difficult time.  We found strength in one another and it pulled us out of our darkness.

Despite the on again off again nature of my relationship with E, we remained friends until very recently.  He has since decided to separate himself from W and I.  I’d be lying if I said this wasn’t part of my current low point but he is a grown man and has made his choice.  W and I both wish him luck in whatever path he follows.  So SMEW has disbanded but W and I remain close as ever.  Some gifts, you should never let go of.

Anyway, life must have sensed that I was having trouble because I received another gift just last week.  I have yet to name it but the story goes something like this:

I was feeling really down but I wanted to take the opportunity to spend time with one of my Brazilian friends before she departed on the next leg of her Canadian journey.  She and I had gotten to know one another several months ago when we took French classes together.  Her story was something like mine in that she had traveled a long distance for a man to find herself hurt and alone.  It was a great bonding point for us when we met and the friendship grew from there.

One of the things that she wanted to do before leaving was gather several of her friends together for drinks at the Jazz Festival.  When we all arrived there were five women:  three from Brazil, one from France and myself.  It seemed like a good beginning to the evening.  It got even better when my friend and I were walking ahead of the others.  She pointed out two of the three women and said, “They understand.  The same thing happened to them.”  I understood instantly.

But something really special happened to all of us that night.  Something great.  We clicked and identified with one another.  We spilled wine, sat in the rain and nearly died laughing when two men showed up at the same time to see the same woman (and it wasn’t me!).  It was simply amazing.

The five of us spent three nights in a row out and about in Montreal.  We talked, laughed, ate, drank, shared stories and bonded.  It’s almost as if we’d known each other our whole lives.  They now know my story and I know theirs.  It was the perfect pick-me-up when I was down and I think the same goes for the others.

Sadly, our friend left for Vancouver but the remainder of us continue to spend time together and have joked about having a club.  It can never replace SMEW, nor do I want it to but it will surely be a source of strength for all of us while we struggle to reformulate who we are while in a new place.  We all look forward to it because Montreal is now chez nous.

One of the most amazing experiences for the group of us was going to O.Noir, a restaurant where you eat in complete darkness to simulate dining with a visual impairment.  All the wait staff are blind as is the band that plays while you eat.  We all fell in love with the experience despite losing bread (by far the biggest crisis of the evening), raising our forks to our mouths to discover nothing was there and walking out with sauce on our faces and chocolate in our hair… We would all do it again in a heartbeat.

There you have it.  Life has yet again given me a gift to remind me how wonderful and special it can be.  I am warmed by its ability to luminate my path and provide me with friends to travel with when I’m feeling lost and lonely on my journey.  Here we go, ladies.  On y va!

Bisous

Days gone by

I frequently sit back and think about where I was at any given time over the last couple of years.  I like to think about all of the things I’ve done and how far I’ve come.  It’s quite amazing really.

Right now, I’m nestled in a block of time that was pivotal in my decision making process last year and the year before that.  It’s a strange time for me.  Part of the oddness comes from the feeling of nostalgia blended with joy and sadness.  It’s a bit confusing while being liberating.  I can’t sum it up any better than that.

This block of time begins with the dates of June 18-25.  They have been permanently marked in my internal calendar as being momentous.

During those dates two years ago, I was on a trip in the mountains with S.  It was during that holiday that I began to realize how unhappy I was in my relationship.  I had no idea what I was going to do about it but I needed to make something happen.  It marked a three month battle with myself in attempt to figure out what I needed to do to find happiness.  It was the beginning of one of the hardest summers of my life.

Those exact dates last year were the ones that I spent visiting Montreal for the first time.  It was when I decided that I wanted to move here and that there could be another home for me outside of Edmonton.  I fell completely in love with the city and had no reservations about coming here.  I was so excited for my new beginning that I barely realized that I was gone the exact dates of my trip the previous year.  What I also didn’t realize was that I was about to begin one of the best summers of my life.

This year the dates brought me an appointment for a job interview, my first fishing expedition since childhood, friends in the hospital, deaths throughout Hollywood, a murder in my hometown, surprise visitors from Alberta, reconnection with a lost friend, seeing one of my favourite bands live and a lost cell phone.  The list goes on but these were the highlights for sure. I however, made no life changing decisions.  I thought it would be better this way.  There was already too much going on and I didn’t want to mess with anything.  This might have been the onset of one of the weirdest summers of my life but who can really tell before it happens?  I just guess based on history.

Coming up this weekend is another date that I can’t escape.  Last year, I tried desperately to just make it any other day and knew I couldn’t do it, so I went out of town for the weekend with E to try to avoid it.  July 5 was supposed to have been my wedding day.  This weekend coming up would have been my first wedding anniversary.  Instead it’s the anniversary of me realizing I was completely head over heels for E and recognizing how difficult it would be for us to part ways.  I’m still baffled by how much can change in a year but time moves on and so have I.

Anyway, my head is a strange place these days.  It’s filled with memories, both good and bad.  Some memories hurt, some are empowering and some just are.  As much as I try not to focus too much on the past, I respect it because of what it represents to me.  I appreciate it because I see an entirely different person when I look into the mirror each day and I embrace it because it’s made me the person who I am.

So that’s where I’m at right now… wading through some mud but I’ll be just fine.

Oh yes, and guess what I found when I was unpacking the boxes that I hauled back in my car?  The original fortune from my first lone trip to Texas to see JB.  I guess I didn’t throw it out afterall.  In fact, I kept it with my jewellery.  I think that this just shows how precious it was to me before I received the second one.  It was a nice reminder of days gone by and I suppose it really was worth keeping.  I promise not to throw it out.

(If you’re not sure what I’m talking about, go to my archives and read “A fortune worth keeping”)

xo

psssst… looking for something discreet?

When I was a child, my family had a tent trailer that we used during the summer months for camping trips.  With my brother, my sister and myself crammed into the backseat of our Crown Vic, we’d head anywhere and everywhere for a holiday whenever my parents could take the time off work.  As the youngest and smallest, I would always have the pleasure of sitting in the middle seat, where the leg room was minimal and I had nothing to lean on to sleep unless one of my siblings decided to shut me up and allow me to rest on one of their shoulders.

I was as talkative then as I am now (if not more) and my family had to endure the typical “Are we there yet?” kinds of questions on such road trips above and beyond my usual babble.  On one particular trip, my Dad had a stroke of genius and asked me to do him a favor.  He asked if I could make sure that our trailer was still attached to the hitch on the back of the car.  I craned around and looked through the back window of the car and surely enough, it was still there.  He then asked me to keep watching it just to make sure.

I was so thrilled to have such an important role in the success of our family trip that it never dawned on me that we would likely notice the trailer falling off the back of the car.  Nor did I pay any attention to the fact that I had watched him thoroughly examine his work earlier to make sure such an event wouldn’t happen.  In fact, I felt so good about that this task, that it became MY job on every family trip for years to come.

So, whenever I was restless and needed a distraction, my parents would remind me that this was my role and I would promptly turn around and obediently watch to make sure that we didn’t lose our camper.  It didn’t often last long but it was always a welcome reprieve from my incessant noise.

It didn’t take much to entertain me back in the day.  I guess some things will never change.

Over the last several months, I have spent a ludicrous amount of time on Craigslist, an online community for… well, everything, I guess.  Originally, I had spent the majority of my time looking at apartments or jobs but then one day, I clicked another link to see what else was there and I got hooked.

A few of the sections are not for the faint of heart, for example I would *never* suggest that my parents read the best-ofs section.  It’s just too crude.  I do think though, that there are many other neat little areas where we all would benefit from spending more time.  There are all kinds of freebies, trades, sales, services and forums that nearly anyone could find what they need, given a little time and a little patience.

What I discovered while I was perusing the personals giggling about all of the 19 year-olds looking for love was a strange little community of married folks wanting to cheat on their spouses.  No strings attached.

It seemed odd to me.  There are millions of people who would give anything to find their life partner… yet there are those who found them, married them and are now looking to commit the ultimate betrayal.

Yes, life often throws us curveballs and we must decide what to do.  Some of us will make grave mistakes when attempting to catch.  Some of us will put in the extra effort and save the day, or the relationship in this situation.

I’m not saying I’m perfect.  I’m far from it.  I would however, put myself in the category of hopeless romantics who thinks that one day, I’ll find that person who understands how I tick.  When I find that person, I’ll hold on for dear life.  I’ve held on to much less in the past, so this is something that I believe to be true.

Now I’m not saying that every one of these married people had the ultimate romance.  I know and understand that sometimes people get married for all the wrong reasons.  Sometimes it’s just immaturity or lack of understanding regarding what marriage really is.  I get this.  I nearly did it myself… but I got out.  I knew something was wrong and I did something about it.  Had the relationship been worth saving I would have worked on it rather than leaving but I knew that it was wrong, so I went the other direction.

What I wonder is why others don’t do the same.  Do they think they can really get away with it?  Do they think that it’s really okay?  I’m fairly certain that if they were to leave without incident that it would be far less harmful than to stay and potentially get caught.  It’s not as if these are one-time incidents either (not that those are much better) but these are people looking to cheat.  Doing it intentionally, with complete disregard for their spouse.  It’s not relevant if they want to be discreet or not.  It’s wrong.  What would this do to their spouse or their children?  Don’t we have enough confusion in our world already?

Again, I’m not perfect.  I have made some big mistakes and I will continue to do so but I guess the point that I’m trying to get across is that if you’re unhappy, do something about it.  Take the path of the least pain possible.  Maybe it will be a trip (or many) to a couple’s counsellor.  Maybe it will be separation or even divorce.  The path is not important, it’s that you’re doing something that will take into account the feelings of the person who you promised to love and support as long as you both lived.  Remember that part?

There’s my rant for the day.

May Joy be yours this Christmas

Garage sales in my hometown in Saskatchewan were always grandiose events.

I remember my family holding one at my Grandmother’s house and despite my Mom’s sign stating that we would not open before Friday at 7:00pm, there were people lined up in the yard shortly after 6:00pm.  The constant stream of people in and out would surprise you given the small population there.  When the end of the evening came along, my parents had to ask people to leave.  Most of the shoppers would return sometime over the weekend to see if the pieces that they were brooding over were still there, at which time they would actually make the purchase.

Saturday and Sunday flowed much the same way and at the end of it all, the majority of our items were gone.  Some people really do love other people’s junk… myself included.

Although I tend to be a bit on the anti-consumerist side (except when it comes to shoes), I love stuff.  Old stuff, new stuff, used stuff, colorful stuff, unique stuff… I love it all.  If you ever see my apartment, you’ll see an eclectic blend of the things that I love the most, ranging from books, to art, to music, to pictures, to bedding, etc.  When I first moved in and had none of my favorite things, I had a friend comment on my minimalist nature.  I responded, “Not at all.  Just wait.  You’ll see.”

I anticipate his surprise this weekend when I see him again for the first time since my return from Alberta with a carload of stuff, which has since exploded onto every surface of my itty bitty place.

Regardless, most of my favorite things are gifts from loved ones, items that I’ve picked up while traveling or things that have a story behind them.  I can barely sit still when I have friends over because I want to tell them where every last thing came from and why I love them so much.  The sheer fact that I hadn’t seen most of these things for nearly two years just amplified my desire to hold and cherish all my stuff.  It’s a weird passion but it’s part of who I am.

One of my all time favorite things is my coffee mug, which I had my parents buy for me at a neighbour’s garage sale several years before my Grandmother’s.  I was very young at the time (perhaps four or five) and became completely enamoured with a coffee mug on one of the tables.  It was the middle of July but I was completely taken with a mug that was decorated with a Christmas theme, complete with ornaments and an elf.  I couldn’t read very much at the time but recognized “joy” and “Christmas.”

I didn’t need to know anything else.  I had to have it.

If you think I’m stubborn now, you should have seen me as a child.  I am the youngest of three and I was very good at getting what I wanted when I wanted it.  Despite my Mom’s arguments of “Shauna, that’s not an appropriate mug for a little girl,” I fought my way through until I had it.  I couldn’t figure out why a Christmas mug wouldn’t be good for a child.  I thought she was nuts.

As time passed, my reading skills improved.  As more time passed, so did my comprehension.

I’m not sure how old I was when I finally learned what my beloved mug said but it’s been years and it’s still one of my most cherished things.  It’s been hidden from roomates after I’ve found moldy teabags in it.  It’s been moved nearly everywhere with me.  It received a girly squeal of delight when I pulled it out of it’s packaging on Sunday night.  It’s currently sitting just in front of me with the remnants of my morning coffee in it.  I picked it unconsiously off the shelf this morning without even having realized that I grabbed it rather than any one of my ten(ish) mugs.  It’s that normal for me to have it in my hands… I love it.

But what does it say that’s so inappropriate for a young girl?

May Joy be yours this Christmas.

P.S. If Joy’s not available we’ll dig up some other gal!

That’s the story of my mug.