Since then, we’ve followed his band Down By Riverside on MySpace and followed him and his brothers playing around the city at Supermarket in Kensington on Sunday and at The 460 last night where Henry and a few of his brothers played music all night to celebrate his birthday (the youngster turned a whopping 20 years old).

While I can’t speak on Lindsey’s behalf, I can speak on mine and say that this guy has sparked back the inspiration that I’ve severely needed this last little bit. Henry walks through life not needing much more than his blue guitar and a pick. Choosing to perform most of his sets barefoot at open mic nights around the city, and subsequently on the curbs outside said establishments because his devote followers can’t get enough and want more, Henry is a bit of a local celebrity in downtown Toronto – a small celebrity, but one nonetheless. Humbled as he sang through his set last night, clearly shocked, amazed and appreciative of all his friends making it out to celebrate, his calm, idle smile he usually carries was a wide grin as his fingers strummed his guitar and his voice cooed his Jack Johnson-like rhythm lyrics.

Living in this cutthroat world can make finding inspiration rather difficult at times. The competition to always get ahead, be first, have the life society wants can be draining and often de-motivating. Where I stand in my life right now, smack dab in the middle between creative freelancer and corporate entity, it’s difficult to constantly make sure I’m inspired and motivated. Having the corporate world stare down at me while I go against the norms is a little daunting, scary and risky. But when you really think about it, aren’t those the same things that make the end result that much better?

I’m amazed the most at the way Henry seems to go through and against the societal norms with ease and without expectation. He carries himself with love and acceptance of those around him (“peace, a better world is possible” is his current status on Facebook). No judgment, anger or jealousy. He owns no cell phone, but everyone knows how to get a hold of him and where he’s going to be. He takes donations wherever he plays in Toronto, not for his livelihood but for organizations that are in need (last night’s donations were for flood victims of Pakistan). He canvasses during the day for wildlife organizations and charities and is just happy. It’s a type of personality and lifestyle that one can find envious.

Instead of being envious, however, we can use experiences we have in life to inspire us, help us realize and remember that each and every one of us are different and help this world in different ways. And it’s pretty amazing when you find that inkling of inspiration. Go find yours.

Henry Nozuka plays alongside his brother Christian every Sunday at Supermarket in Kensington Market and other establishments around the city, say hello and he’ll gladly tell you where you can find him playing throughout the week.

“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?

“Most people would rather be certain they’re miserable than risk being happy.”

I saw this quote today and started thinking about life and the way we live it. The way we walk through each day, focusing on the people who cut us off while driving, the rude barista at Starbucks in the morning or the fact that no matter how early we leave to get somewhere, something always manages to make us late. I am no stranger to being this person sometimes. It happens. It’s inevitable. The inability to be positive at all hours of the day.

Then I can talk to people who really are able to put things in perspective for me. Like a sister. Who thankfully is bored enough at work that she can write me emails that remind me to live in the present and not worry about the past. And not the past like last year, but the past like yesterday. It really puts things in perspective, thinking like that. Realizing what’s important and what’s not. Realizing what’s worth expending energy into and what’s not – and remembering how to differentiate between the two.

I’ve happened to realize that nothing is life is simple. It really isn’t. And the harder to strive for simplicity and ease, the harder it is to find. It’s not about finding the perfect routine that will keep you calm at all hours of the day but more about finding that calm within yourself. So that when you are handed a situation that might make you a little colourful, you have that calm that allows entrance for ease.

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.

I went to bed earlier than I have on a Sunday in a really long time. Just because I was tired, and I was bored but I couldn’t help but wonder, as I stared at the slanted ceiling of my new room, why I wanted to do this. To take hold once again, a glimpse of the life I had back in Calgary. Complete independence, proximity to (almost) everyone I know and freedom. A few things that I haven’t even gone without since I’ve been back anyway. Yet, my stubborn head brought me here, with a “Toronto” address, Alberta plates, and Mississauga P.O. Box and a life of vacations and adventures.

Without a photo on the wall, but a photograph of the Manchester Ferris wheel, a birthday gift from my sister one year, and a couple of new cute black boxes from IKEA which now hold my make up – a bed frame made without the metal bars, so a mattress sitting in the middle of it with no support, I lay there, for now, wondering in an empty room.

Has summer officially started? Well, it’s 9 PM before it gets dark, so it seems like it. Only time will tell what kind of summer it’ll be.

The end result (one of):

I’m really excited to see the rest of them! Perfect for my new website that’s currently in the works. I need some updated professional shots! And now I have them. A quiet night turned a little longer than expected and I wasn’t home and in bed until about 3 am only to wake up the next afternoon ready and waiting for my impending lunch date with Keisha – always a lovely catch up.

My Saturday night began back at Lindsey’s where the girls all got ready and drank some lovely wine – always a plus! Lindsey detailed the evening perfectly in her recount of the evening at Mercatto.

We got called the Canadian version of Sex and the City, many, many times:

We unfortunately didn’t get the amount of polaroids that Lindsey had intended, but the night was a huge success anyway. Ended off at Brooklyn on Queen for a quick cocktail, I was on my way home by 1 AM feeling a bit older at my exhaustion and cramped feet.

Sunday was filled with friends, beer and a Blue Jays game, which proved to be a small preview of what this summer is probably going to be like living with the girls in the Annex this summer: Fabulous.

All in all, it was just one of those weekends. A weekend I hadn’t expected nor planned for (every single thing I did this weekend was planned on Friday night with the exception of Saturday night girls dinner). It was one of those weekends when you hang out with true friends and realize who they are. Getting over disagreements and growing up. A weekend of first “I love yous” for some and for others, first drunk texts that weren’t full of hatred and disappointment. It was a weekend that made me full of hope and excitement for the summer. Who can’t love that?

Unfortunately, my nerves kicked in and I felt largely unprepared for what felt like a big test. Simple words I’ve known my whole life escaped me and I was left sitting there, my mind blank, nervous. However, unlike other Italian outings my heritage finds myself in – where I am called out by old Italian men at my lack of knowledge on the language, despite my father being so heavily involved in the promotion of Italy in general – I was encouraged, assisted and complimented on the fact that I was even there. It definitely created a sense of relief at in my attendance. The feelings didn’t help my lack of knowledge on the language, though. You see, when you’re meeting people for the first time and tell them stories about things that have happened in your life – you use a lot of past tense. Oh the past tense, a lovely new set of verbs, conjugation (or as I like to call them – “word endings”) and irregular verbs that have to be memorized in addition to everything else. Past tense wasn’t a unit I excelled in in my Italian classes. Mostly because I didn’t take Italian classes long enough throughout university to even get to them. Every two words, it felt like, I had to stop and ask what a word meant in Italian and how to conjugate it and then figure out if it was a dialect or proper Italian. Prompting me to hardly remember what the story I was telling was about in the first place.

At around ten, my friend and I left and ended up taking in Hemingways in Yorkville for a drink and ended up sharing life stories – which can seem pretty amazing and crazy when you’re summing them up in five minute intervals. We patrolled the surroundings to judge whether there were cute boys or not (yes and no) and dared each other to create random conversations with the ones who proved to be the most endearing at first glance.

We failed. Mostly, though, because of laziness. Getting into our old age, we were both afraid of sparking conversations with cute boys because my Heineken was making me yawn and her boyfriend kept texting to ask what time she was coming over. It proved to be a different night than most of the ones I’ve had lately – and for that I was grateful.

Grateful to be included in such an evening that didn’t feel adolescent, drama filled or weird. It was random, but randomly planned.

And it was nice.

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.

A WORK IN PROGRESS

IKEA Shower Curtain

The work is piling up behind me, and new prospects are going on my to-do list with each passing day and I’m left wondering whether it is a smart idea for me to look into hiring someone to continue the Simply Elaborate business process. With each day I find another reason as to why I think it’s a fabulous way to go. I read once that the number one mistake that entrepreneurs make is that they do everything themselves and therefore either burn out or something isn’t done 100%. I’m starting to agree and I don’t like it because I don’t like doing things at anything less than 100% and although I’m not feeling burnt out, I can only assume it’s on the horizon.

There are a lot of changes that are going on in my life that are happening soon. For one, I’m going to be a Torontonian this summer. I decided to take up a friend on an opportunity to sublet a room in a duplex downtown and I’m quite excited about it. The move can’t come at a better time nor worse time in my life but when is anything perfect timing in my life?

With summer on it’s way, finally, I’m excited and yet already feeling it fly by quicker than expected and wanted. There’s one thing I’m excited about it – being single, being surrounded by friends and family, and having fun.

Who can’t get excited about that?