My Best Friend

In the last few years, I have come to realize the value of friendship and the people who really matter. Sometimes I write about a lot of useless stuff, because the real stuff is harder to articulate. But tonight, I feel like trying even though this particular person is so important to me that I know no blog post can ever really explain it. 

Justin and I have been friends for eight years. We met when we were both working at Pharma Plus in Brampton. He was a floater working in my store and I'm pretty sure I tripped or fell off a small stool and he saw and made some sarcastic comment and I just shot one back at him. We've been friends ever since. And in some strange lucky twist of fate, we got even closer when we both moved out of Brampton. 

Ours is the kind of friendship that is really hard to describe. Although people often think we are a couple, what makes our friendship so functional is that even though we truly adore each other, its purely platonic. We can laugh off those comments and no one gets hurt or offended. We are really different. He is a social butterfly and I am surely not. There is an 8 year age gap between us. His parents have been happily married forever and I am a commitment-phobic child of divorce. In spite of all that, he understands me better than anyone, from my sarcastic sense of humour, to knowing when I need a reality check or just a hug. He is always as happy to see me as I am to see him, and I miss him all the times in between our visits.

My last visit to Hamilton to visit made me appreciate more than ever having Justin in my life. It was the first day in what feels like forever that I was happy and calm and felt at home. He is one person who has stuck it out with me through everything, and I truly mean everything. He puts up with more crap than anyone else and he never fails to make time for me. (Even giving up a full day of Sunday football to hang out with me). He shares his wide circle of friends with me but always makes sure there is time for just the two of us. 

Some days, our friendship is what has kept me going, what has pulled me through. Justin is one of the greatest people I have ever met, and I can't even describe how lucky I am to call him my best friend. Even through the few times where we drive each other nuts or have gotten into a fight, I never worry that we won't work it out. And I think that is what makes a friendship last, and its a kind of trust that is really rare. 

When things really matter, sometimes it feels like the more we talk about it, the more we lessen its importance. But I know that he knows exactly what I'm talking about and exactly what he means to me, and that is really all that matters. 

On being a Leafs Fan.

My early years were spent growing up in Scarborough, and although I didn't have any lasting male-influence in my life at that time, I still ended up being a Leafs fan. Feels like it was forever ago that Tie Domi and Mats Sundin were my hockey heros and CuJo had the best goalie's helmet.

Throughout high school, my love of the Leafs fell off and I barely ever watched hockey.
But three years ago I started working with a guy who was hockey obsessed. Unfortunately he was a Habs fan, a sentiment which did not rub off on me, but his adoration of hockey did. And my love of the game grew, because he helped me to understand the rules, the penalties, what made some players really good; all the stuff I had never understood when I was younger.

Between the two of us, we constantly ribbed each other over our team choices but it was all in good humour. What has been bothering me lately is the snobby, self-righteous attitude of non-Leafs fans who judge me based on my team. Its gotten to the point where when someone asks what team I like, I actually hesitate because I don't want to hear how "Leafs fans are ridiculous because the team hasn't won a Stanley Cup in how long" or "how being a Leafs fan makes me a lemming" or one of the many other judgmental comments passed on me for loving my team.

I'll be the first to admit that I'm a die hard. It takes me a while to learn all the players and if I can't watch a game I don't get too broken up about it. And yeah, the Leafs haven't won a Stanley Cup in how ever many years its been. Here's the thing, I don't care about that. I'm excited when they win, but if they lose, that's fine. I love watching them play. I went to my first game in March and they lost, and honestly, I didn't care. It was still an amazing experience and I can't wait to go back again. I don't understand the bad rap Leafs fans get for loving their team win or lose. Doesn't that make us that much more dedicated, if we love our team no matter what?

So here's to another season of Blue and White, a giant Screw You! to every person who judges me for loving my team, and a shout out to all the Leafs fan, cause you are all Awesome!

An original...

He is the one holding my hand,

He is the one kissing me good night,

He is the one who tells me I’m beautiful,

But my heart, my heart

My heart belongs to you.

He looks at me like I’m one in a million,

I am his dream come true

All he wants is to call me his,

But my heart, my heart

My heart belongs to you.

He is always around when I need him,

He never makes me wait,

He treats me like I’m made of gold,

But my heart, my heart

My heart belongs to you.

He wants to be my superman,

And save me from my past

He doesn’t know you’ll always be my hero

And my heart, my heart

My heart belongs to you.

The Chance-Escapades Volume 1

     I have a pet, we can call him a dog for argument's sake, but I do not believe he is just a dog. He is probably part Golden Retriever - somewhere in his lineage - but is mostly a mutant animal that has yet to be categorized.
     Some days he is tediously normal, acting like a puppy not quite a year old yet. He sleeps on the bathroom floor at night, and naps on a huge doggy pillow during the day when I work on my computer. He eats his overpriced kibble and gulps water like a horse, usually leaving a trail of drool-water all over the floor when he is done. When we go for walks, he wants to say hello to every passing dog, person and motorcycle, not much caring that not every dog or person is all that interested in saying hi to him, and basically ignoring the threat a motorcycle might pose to his life (or mine).
     And then there are the other days. The days that have clued me in to the fact that he is more than he appears to be. The moments when his disguise slips and I know he is not just a dog. Take for example, his ability to make food disappear and leave no trace behind. Like the time he stole 8 muffins off of a plate without making a sound and leaving the plate in the exact place it was. Or his affinity for good homemade Italian spaghetti. Most recently, a bag of 5 cheese english muffins which was on the counter at 7am, but had gone missing (plastics bag and all) by 10am.
     But he is very adept as hiding his tracks, and keeping his true identity hidden. Only I, who has lived with him for nearly a year, has any idea that he is not just a golden-retriever. I will have to continue to gather evidence, and hope that soon other people will believe me.

September

I love the month of September. All kinds of great things happen. My birthday, fall weather, back to school. Its when I make my 'New Years' Resolutions, because I've never been a big fan of New Years in January.
Most years on the real New Years something bad always happens. This past one was really great, except when I fell up the stairs in front of a whole bunch of people. Prior to this year, my New Years celebrations have been major failures. Once, my boyfriend insisted we spend the night partying with his friends instead of mine, and then he got trashed before midnight and he was throwing up when the ball dropped. In highschool, one year the boy I was totally in love with showed up at a party with his girlfriend of the moment and I had to watch them make out all night. The year after that I ended up being accused of messing around with my best guy friend whose girlfriend hated me, when nothing at all had happened.

So to say the least, I like September as the time to make resolutions and goals. And I realize this year, I am in a really great place. I have two jobs, one that I love and one that challenges me and keeps the bills paid. I'm determined to do well in school and I really like my classes, which helps a lot. I know what I want to do with my life when I'm done school, and I'm actively working on one of my biggest life's goals: writing a book.
The past year has been really tough, and there are still a few...loose ends and certain things I haven't quite dealt with fully. But I know where I'm at, and where I want to be and that gives me hope that I'll get there.

Its a good month.

Blogs

The thing I love and hate about blogs is that you don't know who reads them, or if anyone reads them. But I guess that gives us the freedom to write to whatever audience we choose without worrying about how it will be interpreted or judged.
I write as though I am writing in a journal that I might read 25 years from now because it helps me to not delete everything I say as soon as I say it. I hope someone reads it, and if they don't, that's okay too. More than anything, I'm writing for me. There are a lot of stories I want to tell and if no one reads them now, maybe one day they will.
I'm trying to write a book, so sometimes its hard to focus on writing in here, and be real and be me when my mind is in the head of my characters. But I'm starting to think that its important to do both. To take that little bit of time to come back to myself. Because in my story, there is a happy ending. The kind I would write for myself, if I was able to. But in here, there is no ending at all. Its about the little moments, the ones that feel like they might kill me, and also the ones that make me remember all the things I have to value.

And later on, I will be able to come back and take inspiration and ideas from how I was feeling when these things happened, and give experiences and voices to new characters. That's the hope at least. If nothing else, I love writing, and I love the feeling of calm that it gives me.

I wonder what starts other people blogging? (And I really wonder where the word 'Blog' came from) Its an interesting phenomena to me, this idea of sending our stories and thoughts out into a world not really knowing whether its going to mean anything at all to anyone.

The Nice Guy

There is a preconceived notion that the Nice Guy always get screwed over by girls. And I'm the first one to admit that it happens. But I would like to give you a different perspective on the situation.

It isn't easy to be the girl who turns down said Nice Guy. It would be so much easier for us if we could fall in love and have our happy ending with Nice Guy, who tells us how great we are, how well they will take care of us, how much they love us.
The girl who turns down Nice Guy has to deal with some serious aftermath. Questions from family:"How could you not go out with Nice Guy? He's so sweet!" Questions from well meaning friends: "Are you sure you don't want to go out with Nice Guy? He's going to make a lot of money one day!" Occasionally, even questions from Nice Guy's friends: "You know Nice Guy is really devastated. No way you can make it work?"
And of course, the inevitable guilt of being the Ice-Cold-Bitch-With-No-Heart who took Nice Guy's heart and smashed it into little bitty pieces.

I would like to say on behalf of this Heartless Ice Queen, that saying no to Nice Guy isn't as easy as it may seem. Spending weeks afterwards wondering why Nice Guy can't be the one who gives you butterflies and makes you giddy, asking yourself if you had just given it a little more time, put in a little more effort, done something different if you could have made it work. But knowing all the while that you can't create sparks or force passion where none lives. And hoping that one day, some guy will come along who gives you butterflies and that at the same time he will be a nice guy as well.

Side Note: Nice Guys do not spend all their time convincing themselves and others of their Nice Guy-ness. They do not barrage you into dating them, or explaining over and over again why you won't date them. And they know that just because we aren't dating a Nice Guy now, us Heartless Ice Queens don't want to or let ourselves be treated like trash, we are just holding out for the whole package. Any guy who falls into any of these categories, well Nice Guy isn't the label I'd put him under.