20 Reasons I Suck

You might as well know it - I am the original all-day sucker! Yeah, for starters, I generally wake up all bright and shiny and absolutely oblivious to the licking I am going to get each day!

Some days I just let all the drivel and drool roll down my slightly rounded shoulders - ah, the beauty of my design; form following function; blah, blah, blah.

To add to my plight, I am one of those 70s suckers with the Happy Face on it - it goes through all of the layers of my composition, so there is no escaping that daffy grin.

Today I just was ready to get in my car, drive it 'til the gas was gone and then start walking, like Forrest Gump. No beard to grow, but in time I am sure the shins would get some impressive fuzz happenin'.

I just feel like I am forever hitting the wall, missing the mark and failing at everything and with everyone I know - and then I have this stupid happy, chirpy thing going on, like a car with something shaking loose under the hood that no one can quite figure out, and even if I am dying, crying, melting, screaming, absolutely tortured half outta my mind, no one seems to notice anything but how stupid and incomplete and wrong I am. They just count on Sweet 'n Smiley to keep haulin' ass - right in the opposite direction.

So today I needed to get away and reflect on my situation. What if I just disappeared, what would happen? A few tears - dutiful ones from the adult daughters who really don't know what to make of their Momma. Real ones from my Son, who loves routine and I think really loves The Big Sucker a.k.a. His Mother. More dutiful tears from a handful of close friends - but in private they'd say, "Knew she was different..." And of course my own tears (I started early, btw... and told myself I was just practicing!) - my tears at being born such a big sucker! That would be about it and life goes on. Hardly worth my effort to disappear.

Bottom line - I am different, awkward, broken up a bit; that odd coloured sucker that someone buys because it is marked down and they are short on cash. I have never been quite the right Lolly for the job - too young, too old, too fat, too stupid, too shy, too loud, too religious, not religious enough, too geeky, too wordy, too dutiful, too ugly, too short, too tall, too many questions, too punctual, too white, too curious, too happy -- yes, way too happy and world really doesn't like happy because it creates tension; stretchy, smiley tension.

So I guess I will be sticking around, smiling (no choice, remember?). And that's at least 21 reasons - my rough count. Did I count wrong? Oh, sorry...

Mission Possible

Sometimes life has a way of knocking the stuffing out of a person - I know what it means to feel small, insignificant; powerless. But then sometimes people or events remind me that I have a purpose, that I have value, and that I can achieve many things through persistence and effort.

Yesterday I was reminded of the fragility and beauty of life - I am thankful for the nudge. I thought I would be at a gallery show opening, but I spent several hours at a hospital with friends instead, saying good bye to a gravely ill family member. Funny, how tight the curve can be some days - whipping us around and setting in motion a completely different turn of events! And although I could never have imagined my day unfolding as it did, I am absolutely certain that is where I was intended to be, for reasons known and unknown.

Humble, grateful; joyful at the altar
I sip the bitter nectar of this hour.
Wedded to thee, soul to soul
Tethered to eternal light
Amid the sweetness of
Spring blossoms.

Comfort Me

The first time I tasted bread with olive oil, balsamic vinegar and herbs I was visiting Restaurant Pellegrino with my Mom - the owners had my drawings framed and decorating the dining room and wanted me to see the result. (The owner's wife, Paulina, had modelled for me at University).

They treated us to a lovely lunch and I experienced the Italian tradition - took to it like a duck to water, btw... Travelling to Toscana last year, and having the local ingredients at my disposal was just a fantastic upgrade! I can still smell the moist, clean air and feel the beauty transforming my thoughts and dreams.

What is cool, is that we can get wonderful balsamic from Modena and great fresh breads here at home, but I have yet to find a oil that rivals what I tasted in Italia. I didn't buy anything fancy either - just the local Co-op brands and it topped anything I had ever sampled in Canada. Paired with some wonderful wine, well that's magnifico! Unpretentious, accessible luxury for the six senses.

So, it's a rainy holiday Monday and I am relaxing and remembering driving through Tuscany - the weather changing rapidly from sun to cloud to rain and back to sun again, as we drove through that magical countryside - like a fairy tale come to life. It's such a treat to have those memories to play back like favourite movie clips - comfort for the soul and inspiration to nudge it forward.

The Significance of SHE

I consider myself very fortunate to have had a loving Mother. I think of all of the little things she did for me as a kid, and how she continues to support me as an adult.

I have six siblings, so Mom was always "way beyond busy" keeping us all fed, watered and clothed - I get freaked out when I realize now that this ate up the majority of her waking hours, seven days a week, 365 days a year from the age of 23 until her late 40s.

So, don't ever underestimate the fortitude and strength of a woman, or a mother - 'nuff said! Despite a heavy schedule of parental obligation, my Mom still made time for extracurricular interests. She participated in women's groups, committees, sports and so on -- she also sang in the church choir, taught Sunday school, and led the Junior Choir for many of my childhood years. I remember how she would serve us all at mealtimes and would sometimes be eating standing up! I used to like it when she would finally sit down after dinner and she'd ask me to scratch her back or brush her hair - funny, how this family rituals evolve! We'd joke about grooming each other like monkeys...

All of the little details mean so much more when added up over time - Mom paid attention and took care of all of the little details. These are the things that make life special; both as a kid and as an adult - the sprinkles on the ice cream sundae. These are also the things that give us hope on a less-than perfect day and inspire personal creativity.

I recall how Mom would let us each pick what kind of birthday cake we wanted (home-baked, of course), and we would be "consulted" on the colour of the icing. Chiffon cakes were the trend in the 70s, so it was lemon chiffon, chocolate chiffon, poppy seed chiffon, orange chiffon, and so on... I remember choosing blue icing one time, and thinking..."Will she really make it BLUE?" (Yes, she did, and it was a luscious, improbable, kid-pleasing turquoise blue!).

I also got to pick my bedroom paint, wall paper and bedding at about age 8 or 9 - I chose some kinda crazy wall paper with these bobble-headed wedding party figures on it, and she thought that was just fine! (I LOVE my Momma!!!)

As an adult, there was a time when I left a horribly abusive work situation at great financial risk - I was sick with worry, having depleted my meager savings; I was wondering how I would feed my kids and desperately looking for work. I couldn't talk about it to anyone, and was beating myself up about my choices - in particular, for sticking it out at this particular sales position.

I hadn't said anything to anyone, I was so ashamed and felt like a total failure. Then, Mom showed up one evening with several bags of groceries: fruit, vegetables, milk, eggs, bread and other wonderful things, including treats for my little girls: it was like a living angel had heard my prayer and come to my door.

Thanks to my Mother, I lost my cloak of despair and was able to move on to a much better, salaried position in a matter of days. To this day, even when I am broke and nothing seems to be going right, I never feel poor and I never hesitate to give and to share what I have.

Good Stuff! Yes!

Living with passion - it is the truest form of courage. Far easier to blend in, play dumb, compromise etc. - trouble is you can compromise yourself out of existence!

Finally got my new k.d. lang cd in the mail this week - pre-ordered the first day that option came available (number one groupie..... yeah!) LOL.

Wow - it was worth the wait; and anticipation is good fuel for passion; my grandma would call it "courting". I hear a lot of what I initially loved about k.d. and her music (1980s - 90s!) on this album - the quirkiness, nostalgia, pure vocal range and (of course), personal passion! Nothing fake, no preservatives, no B.S.- just her unmatched talent and a whole lotta va-va-voom with the SBB.

I drove around the evening after I got this album, shopping for Easter nibblin's and such, and the sun was setting, and the sky was this surreal cocktail of cotton candy pink, lavender and denim blues - with k.d. in my head, I was floating peacefully along, all senses completely satisfied and happy, bubbling happy.

A nice bonus... if you pre-ordered the cd you got an autographed I Confess lyrics sheet from k.d. -- her signature is in some kind of horkin' Jiffy marker (WTF?), but it's that bit of fun and unexpected quality that makes me love it all the more. So.... still listening, still humming; connected to beauty straight from the heart of creativity.

Two Steps Back

This is what I woke to this morning - a blanket of white snow... in APRIL!!! It must have been very still over night, because the snow was perfectly coated onto every branch, wire and object with equal weight and measure - Mother Nature has OCD! (My wintery look is thanks to Hipstamatic --iPhone app; I was not frosted over like a beer mug, but snug in my jammies, indoors ;) I was the first one awake in the house this a.m., and when I saw all of the snow I worried a bit about my social butterfly daughter, who was out clubbing last night, and driving one of my cars. Then I saw her telltale little pump tracks from the garage to the back door of the house -- nice straight line too (good girl, Baby!). So, no need to check her bedroom - home safe and sound. Snow covered ground has a solemn honesty. Although I am really sick of winter weather conditions (especially when it is officially spring!), I must say that I was a bit spellbound by the quiet beauty and bluish-white light's reflection in my rooms during the early morning hours. There is something to be said for moments of solitude, and the spare, sterile quality after a snowfall further sets the stage for thoughtfulness. I enjoyed my morning coffee immensely, just watching the birds dig for seed; appreciating my time alone, and marvelling this chilly Saturday morning surprise.

Doing My Best

Brownie Handbook

I had a trip back in time this week when my girlfriend and I decided to look in a used book store over lunch hour. We had been in this particular shop before, and had purchased a Julia Child cook book, but we hadn't really spent much time in the place.

Until this week, we hadn't realized how big the shop is - a strange collection of irregular little rooms, awkwardly connected like odd beads on a string; each crammed floor to ceiling with different book categories and sections; and interspersed with jewelery, china, old photos and other collectibles - some treasure and a lot of trash. Squeezing into the fifth and final room in this maze, I found some kids books from the 1950s, 60s and 70s.

I first noticed Nancy Drew - the distinctive turquoise blue binding jumped out at me and I asked my girlfriend if she had read Nancy Drew - my sisters loved them but they were a bit before my time. "No", she replied, "I hated Nancy Drew - she was too perfect and I couldn't relate to her. I liked Trixie Belden - she was kind of a tom boy like me." Well we found some Trixie Belden books - originals from the 50s and some reprints from the 70s, and I wanted to buy her one, but she wasn't interested.

Then I saw it... the Brownie Handbook! It was in pristine condition and only $4.75 -- my eyes teared up as I thumbed through the illustrations. I was eight again, in my brown leotards, beret and tunic - Brownies were uber cool and a pretty big deal for me back in the day!

But I am trying to cut back on frivolous spending, and declutter my life, so I put the book back and stepped out of the past, into my adult shoes, leaving the child inside me dancing around a mushroom while Tawny Owl and my fellow Imps and Pixies looked on.

As we left the store, my girlfriend stopped at the front counter - I thought, just to talk to the shop keeper. Then I saw she had the Brownie Handbook in hand. She just knows what my

heart needs - better than I do sometimes; what can I say?

I am keeping the Handbook on my office desk - a reminder of the little girl who just wanted to do her best every day and have a little fun in the process - a little girl for who the world was full of positivity and promise.