Archive for the ‘entries’ Category

During this morning’s daily ritual of running into my roommate’s room to show her my outfit and ask her opinion and approval, right after she declared it’s fashion ability, she looked at me weird and calmly stated, “Your upper body is so small it’s annoying.” I laughed and asked her to repeat herself. “I wish I had your boobs,” she added as well.

“Well I wish I had your legs, so don’t worry!” I replied. Then we spoke about how if we could somehow put our two body types together, I’m sure at some point, we’d find something else to hate about them. Without doubt, this got me thinking about women and our obsession with finding the perfect body. Whether it’s in the body parts of our friends, the models in magazines or our favourite celebrities. Why aren’t we just content with what we’re dealt at birth?

I have a very Italian pear shaped body. And my roommate’s right, I’m very grateful for my small chest and torso as I can squeeze myself into things you wouldn’t believe for the amount of weight the scale tells me I am, but somehow, when looking in a mirror, I find my eyes trailing down to my thighs and knees. There’s just too much there I often tell myself. So I run, kind of; do spinning; now, I’ve started kickboxing; participated in Boot Camp; Pilates; yoga; swimming – etcetera, etcetera. The problem? The torso keeps getting smaller and those thighs never seem to fade. I know the rules of weight loss and muscle management. I know butt and boobs are first to go but the frustrating thing is how long it takes to get it off and all I have to do is go on vacation for a week and pretty much three months of hard work goes down the drain.

So why can’t we just be happy with what we’ve got? How come right after my roommate complimented my upper body, I immediately shifted conversation over to the things I hate about it? This got me to thinking about how we interpret compliments and our self body image and how we think others perceive us. At times, I can half-heartedly complain about my severe lack of breasts, but if there is a time that I’m wearing a bit of a cleavage-bearing top, I feel extremely self-conscious. I’m not used to people looking at my chest and not my eyes – it’s like nothing will ever make us happy. Although I don’t think I’d ever want to be the type of person who actually enjoyed someone staring at my chest instead of my eyes, but that’s another story.

All of this made me realize that although I love my body about a hundred times more than I ever did while hitting puberty, and while celebrity junk food news and idealistic, ridiculous fawning over plastic surgery Barbie faces (ramble!) has become the norm for today’s teenagers to look up to, there’s still something off with what I see when I look at myself in the mirror – and I don’t think I’m alone in that department.

How do we change this self imposed body image we have on ourselves? How can we just love what your momma gave you? How do you do it?

On the May 2-4 long weekend that just passed, I hosted a party for a few of my closest friends just to celebrate the fact that I could have one (living in Calgary the last two years really put a detrimental plan-stopper on that one) and the beginning of summer.

Over fifteen people came – my highest turn out yet! And I felt it was a great success, mostly, as I realized that we all have so many people in our lives that love us and want to spend time with us – whether we’re single, dating or married. It’s these people that come out from all facets of our lives that we’re able to see just what kind of relationships we are capable of maintaining. I phrase it in that way because it’s hard work to maintain friendships and as the group you’re friends with increases, the harder it is to maintain all aspects of what a friendship entails. The description of what a friendship entails can be grossly misleading as well; depending on whom you’re talking to.

A friend of mine decided to cease being friends with me a couple of weeks ago and I was left hurt, blind sided and (true to form) asking questions to no one in particular about what could have possibly happened. This person was a very dear friend of mine throughout our university years but as we grew older and drifted apart (ranging from what cities we lived in to our careers) our emails remained and the odd phone call was placed. Communication was there between us but we’d definitely lost the closeness we had in terms of breaking news and calling the other on speed dial.
Suffice to say, our friendship hadn’t maintained it’s strength these past few years but I suppose betrayal and loyalty had its hand in the demise of the friendship at the end of the day. I was accused of being dishonest but with no situation – I guess I’m just supposed to know what I did. But I don’t.

For a person who was not in my life on a daily basis, I’m finding it difficult to just let go. I’m constantly wondering what happened and re-thinking everything I’ve done and said over the last month of two. I’m a person who hates being hated. I’m a person who doesn’t like not being liked. Maybe that’s an issue to deal with at another time, but for right now – it feels wrong. Friendships don’t last all the time, I know this, and people grow apart, move on and up or just don’t blend anymore. But I’ve never had a friendship just blow up in my face so quickly with no explanation. We’re done. You’re done. You’re a horrible person. It leaves someone to question – am I?

Could I have done more in the friendship to make sure it didn’t end this way? Probably, I could have done (or not done) whatever it is that garnered me this position of “ex-friend” in the first place – but how are you to know if the other party won’t talk to you?

Many in my life say that dwelling on this situation or even the person shouldn’t matter and I should just move on and rid myself of the negativity. I’m all for it – but tell my mind that. I work in an office alone, being creative and it’s a bit difficult to pull creativity out of the woodwork when you have something blocking it from exposure.

With time, things will improve, I know – they already have, but I can’t help but wonder – if I could go back and do things differently, would I? Probably not. Instead, I would probably go back to the Saturday evening of the long weekend when all the friends that could make it to the cottage, had, and were all eating hamburgers, hot dogs and sausages I had supplied for the party. I stood on the grass watching them like a creep all laughing on the deck and I couldn’t help but smile.

I have amazing friends. I have amazing people in my life that would do anything for me and I’d do the same. I have friends that I haven’t seen in years, yet still make time for me if we need it. I have friends that push me to be the best I can be when I don’t think I have it in me. I have friends that understand my incessant ridiculous love of Sushi and don’t judge. I have friends that will just sit and watch television with me, because I love Cougar Town, even though they don’t. I have friends that love me and fight with me and laugh with me and smile with me. And we fight; I’ve fought with all my friends. The difference is, the friendship is worth way more than the fight and that’s why it’s a hell of a lot easier to maintain.

Is it almost Thursday already? Where has the week flown off to? Summer is coming, I can feel it (despite the odd weather changes that have gone this week) and it’s making me more excited by the minute. The thing that sucks? Weddings that I’m committed to going (and WANT to go to) have me booked on what so far seem to be the best weekends in the city thus far, among the predicament of having a personality and lifestyle that includes wanting to attend every outing that’s possible no matter how much it’ll probably kill me.

For instance, the night of Thursday, May 27th has sequestered itself among three events I want to attend:

1) Strut for a Cure

A night promised to make everybody speak out against Cancer while listening to Dragonette and meeting others in the industry. Plus, the swag bag you get once you leave isn’t bad either. Mostly, it’s just the type of thing I’m loving about living in Toronto. Being able to go to these fundraisers and parties and network my butt off. Problem: I may be dumb, but I scoured that website and could not for the life of me find out when the event starts that Thursday. Normally, it wouldn’t be a problem but for someone attempting to plan “a night of a million stops” it is.

2) Carassauga: Mississauga’s Festival of Culture

Of course it has to be the first night my father’s extracurricular activity, FCAM, actually does something that will interact with the community by promoting the integration of the Molise culture in Canada and I have this prior commitment and urge to attend Strut for a Cure instead. Which leaves me feeling guilty. I did, however, design this snazzy advertisement to be included in Carassauga’s 25th Anniversary special edition commemorative magazine they’ll be handing out at the show. The AD itself was inspired by the work my friend and sometimes partner, Emily Bachor of Whylime Design does at Where Calgary magazine.

She’s made me a big fan of the opacity button:

You may think this is no big deal, not being able to attend the opening ceremonies of the Carassauga weekend, as it’s just that – a weekend event. However, this brings me to the dear old commitment number three.

3) Bridal Shower in Windsor, Ontario

My dear, dear friend is getting married. Yay (it’s a sincere yay). But instead of taking up one of my weekends that consist of me waking up at noon and reading PostSecret all day, I will be sitting at a table with other twentysomething friends becoming misty eyed at the thought of my friend getting her happy beginning and me wondering if I’ll have a date by the time her wedding comes around in August – or if I’ll even want one. Problem: It’s basically an entire weekend of visiting and busyness that I’ll have absolutely no time for …

4) Sex and the City 2 Premiere

Now, I know this may sound crazy, with all the fantastic prior engagements I’ve just listed to end off with my disappointment that I will not be able to watch the continuation of the best show ever made followed by the best movie sequel to a TV series ever made but I am. I am disappointed. Mostly, however, because of spoilers. I won’t be able to take it. In addition to reading PostSecret every Sunday, I have this odd, unnatural habit of checking out TheMovieSpoiler.com to see what happens at the end of the latest blockbusters just released. It sort of reminds me of Billy Crystal’s monologue in When Harry Met Sally about being so dark that he reads the end of novels before he starts in case he dies so he’ll always know how it ends.

Problem: even if I successfully remove myself from being tempted to log on, I know it’ll be all around me. When will the next opportunity come that I can see the movie before I read about what happens in the tabloids? In 2008, when the first movie came out, I had to block my sister from my MSN list because she had gotten home from watching the big premiere (she lives in the United Kingdom and had the pleasure of seeing it a full eight hours before I did) and wanted to gush about how amazing it was. She’s like that.

All in all, I think I may just be whining about unnecessary things. But I can’t help it – I want to do it ALL!!!!

Which, in case you don’t know me personally, is exactly what I’ll end up doing.

I’m trying to figure out a lot about my life right now, while simultaneously just trying to live in the moment and accept it as it comes. Do you know how hard that is to do when you’ve diagnosed yourself as a Type A personality with a hint of Attention Deficit Disorder combined with this overwhelming desire to somehow make up for the last two years of my life being spent in oblivion?

I feel like the days are flying by and somehow at the end of them, I am getting things accomplished and yet I don’t seem to find any satisfaction in any of it – and then, of course, I start to wonder why. My Type A personality tells me I’m not doing enough, every moment spent in “down time” is precious time wasted that I could have been producing something, creating something else and thinking about doing even more. The realist in me tries to take a step back, relax and realize that while going out for Thai dinner with a friend, it’s completely okay that I’ve left my BlackBerry in the car. Completely okay.

What am I addicted to, I wonder. What is so important about receiving an email as soon as it arrives in my inbox at 8 pm? It’s not like I can really do much at that time until I get to a computer. I mean, I can – but it’ll usually involve an apologetic process to whomever I’m with about how it’s work and I can’t let it go. When the truth is, I can let it go, I just choose not to because I think I feel a certain sense of importance at the fact that I’m needed in a work capacity after regular business hours. How insane. Who even cares? If they care, the person/people I’m with, it’ll be that I’m being rude, not important! I know this, yet I check the message anyway.

I need a balance. And I wonder why this balance doesn’t come naturally to me. My birthday is October 1st – smack dab in the middle of the Libra, the astrological sign of balance. So why can’t I concentrate on doing one thing at a time? Loving one thing at a time? Experiencing one thing at a time? Can I control my life enough to create that? Is that something one can do – I can do?

I’m so addicted to being in the know. I need to be in the know. With news – local, national and world – with whatever social media site I’m viewing, technology, bestsellers, movies, music, sports and people. I’m left to wonder, am I tapping into my old high school self? The one who felt a constant need to fit in and therefore “love” everything so I always had something to talk about with a new face. I’m excited for knowledge, learning and education – but every day, with every piece of knowledge – I wonder where the hell it all goes!

Or … is it a reason for a lack of total productivity and procrastination?

Hillary Clinton addressed Americans last week.

I don’t know what it was about, or when exactly, but I remember her making a joke about the last twenty years of her life and she made a quip of the things her husband has put her through. She laughed, the audience laughed, her daughter standing right behind her laughed – and so did Mr. William himself. And I remember turning my head while getting ready for work and looking at the screen, at these such serene, sincere faces and wondering how on earth they got passed everything.

I know it’s been like eleven years, maybe more, maybe less – but how did they do it? No one separated, no one got divorced, no one did anything. Except maybe forgive. The media followed that story more than they followed how well Mr. Clinton was running the country yet when the questions arose to Hillary – was she staying or going – no one could get an answer. She was polite, calm and poised. She was private, most of all, and made her decision. And everyone judged. Everyone. Whether they were for or against the commitment to stay; everyone had an opinion.

In her memoir, she states that “no one understands her like Bill does” and love was the reason that she stayed. That’s all she said. That’s it, and whether you liked it or not, you were just going to have to accept the decision because in the end, it was nobody else’s life but her own. I think we forget that more often than not.

I’ve definitely taken a step back and looked at this past year a bit differently. I’ve been forced to realize that you can’t always trust someone, but you should always try. And forgiveness, it’s important. And although I believe it’s important for the one who needs to be forgiven, I think the concentration on it should really be within the person who has to do the forgiving. In the end, it’s really only doing more harm than good to focus on what was done, and not what has been done since.

My mom’s a grudge holder. I’m beginning to see myself as some part of a grudge holder as well, and it scares me!! The thing is, I noticed that the grudges I keep, or the things I remember the most, are usually with the people who matter the most with me. Why is that? Because I don’t care about the people I don’t hold grudges with, what they’ve done doesn’t matter – I can always get passed it. I can only wish that it was reversed.

It’s not impossible, I know this – I just have to let go. Can time heal all wounds if it’s continually thought about? Can you just fast forward yourself to a time when nothing in the past (at this time) means anything anymore? It can even mean something, it just doesn’t mean everything?

Mistakes are always made, and we all make them – but can they be forgiven, really and truly? If I’m asking myself that question, maybe I’m on the right track to trying to find out.