LIFE AS I DREAM IT

And so ends another Christmas season safely tucked away into my closet of treasures and an old year filed away within the confines of my mind.  I ended 2010 by sitting down at the ocean with my better half guzzling back steaming hot chocolates and toasting the fact that we had somehow survived.  In one of my more cornier moments of life and not one for ritualization, I closed my eyes and inhaled the crisp winter wind and visualized letting go of any unpleasant memories of 2010 while holding onto the moments that touched my heart and made me grow as a person. From sadness to happiness, from being house bound to road trips, 2010 had it's share of every emotion imaginable.  And I am happy to let it slip away.

And now begins the beauty of a new year, fresh with no mistakes, well not yet anyways, and I am embracing it with my fingers crossed and my eyes wide open.

January always instills this feeling of urgency and anxiousness in me.  I am sure that it has something to do with spring around the corner.  New life coming forward, plants bursting forth, freshness, sweetness, and in my humble opinion, nature at its best.  I cannot wait to go outside, breathe in the air, stick my hands in the earth and connect. Perhaps, a tad crazy, but a new year brings me hope that life will finally go as planned, with no bumps or hiccups along the way. Yes a delusional thought at best.

I feel the need to make plans for my year and I sit and doodle on my calendar with the hopeful anticipation that "this year" might be the year we finally go to Italy.  "This year" might be the year I make more time for me.  "This year" might be the year I spend more time being adventurous. "This year" might be the year I am more spontaneous. And "this year" might be My Year.

I sit dreamily in January planning the next 11 months of my life, and realizing at the end of the year, that nothing had gone as planned. On my road of life, I tend to be easily distracted and end up going down side roads that lead to dead ends.  It would be a bust for me, if it wasn't so much fun hitting all those metaphorical potholes along the way.

In any event, I can tell you that this Average Girl is ready. And whatever 2011 has in store for me, it will be all good, because My Life can be exactly as I dream it, well as long as I stay off those pesky side roads.

All the best to you in 2011.

ENDINGS AND BEGINNINGS

We are nearing the end of 2010, and quite frankly, I am looking forward to a new year.  2010 was a year of uncertainties, unanswered questions and moments of helplessness.  2010 consisted of days of crying and feeling sorry for myself and months of trying this pain medication and that pain medication. And, I must admit, I do not like who I have become. No longer willing to sit on my laurels and wait the outcome of diagnosis after diagnosis by specialists, I have decided to make 2011 the Year of Tracy.  A strong focus on not dealing with the pain but fighting thru it and coming out the other side, perhaps slightly scathed, but stronger, healthier and more importantly, as pain free as I possibly can be.

I long for a sense of freedom from the chains that have bound me for years.  In my nightly dreams, I envision travels to exotic destinations, bike rides and long walks, sitting in movie theatres and explorative drives all without the assistance of some magic little pill which has been dictating whether these moments would be possible.  I dream of yoga in the morning and belly dancing at night followed by days of work without ice packs or heating pads.  I dream of moments where my massages are for relaxation indulgences only and not related to working out the latest series of trigger points.  I dream of moments where I can just wear my engagement ring because I can as oppose to how swollen my fingers are that day.

I long to be tired at the end of the day because my day was so wonderfully satisfying, not because I can barely move.

In simple terms, I dream of living a fulfilling life.  The half assed life is no longer an option for me.

I hold the power of the destination in my hands and I am putting my foot down as I am no longer prepared to allow doctors and specialists tell me what I can and cannot do.  I know my limitations, but I also have to believe in the power of me.  I am strong and I know it.  But somewhere along the line, I let others decide my fate.  No longer allowing them to be my puppet masters, I am going to take control.  A gentle but aggressive control of my fate.

And so with 2010 ending, I bid adieu along with a kick to its ass and a cheerful "don't let the door hit you on your way out" and I am giving a quick hug and peck on the cheek to 2011 as I bulldoze my way thru it.

Because at the end of the day I can only say this:  Life is what you make it, and these past several years has been unacceptable because I want more, I deserve more, but most importantly, I am more.

Enough said.  *as she steps off her soap box*

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

IN LOVE WITH CHRISTMAS

It’s the weekend before Christmas and the jovial hustle and bustle of the season is disappearing and being replaced with sheer panic.  I watched outside my office window on Friday as people were frantically running in and out of stores with manic looking faces. My humour is often twisted and I found the craziness absolutely hilarious.  At lunch time, I took a mandarin orange and sat out on the bench in front of my office and people watched.  I knew that I looked quite calm because I felt it  and I knew that my Christmas shopping has long since been purchased, wrapped and delivered to those I will not see on Christmas day.  One woman actually told me I looked too “gawd damn happy", for which I broke out into another fit of the giggles.  She snorted at me and I could see she did not appreciate my amusement. I wondered what she would have thought had she known that I have already started my Christmas shopping for next year?  Perhaps, that is better left unknown.

I look forward to the yearly traditions that the holiday season provides to me.  From sitting and watching the same Christmas movie year after year with my mom, to tearing bread to get it ready for stuffing the next day, to opening one small gift on Christmas Eve.  Little moments are in abundance and filled with simple happiness. Christmas mornings are sweet and innocent and even the pooches get into it.  My better half makes a scrumptious breakfast and we eat and relax while listening to Christmas music.  Later in the day we settle down with the rest of our extended family and some how survive the chaos that ensues with the too many cooks in the kitchen and too many opinions on whether the turkey is done.  We eat and rest our rather fully bellies followed by games aplenty. It is a tumultuous joy.

And when everyone has gone, we sit quietly in the soft hues of the Christmas Tree lights reflecting on the day.  Good or bad, it is always memorable.

For some it is about the religious aspect of the day, for which I respect.  For me, however, when it is all said and done, it is not about the receiving of anything but it is about the giving of myself and the much needed reminder of how blessed I am. But mostly, and as corny as it sounds, it is all about the joy of  being in love with Christmas.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches

The Long Hair cometh, the Long Hair goeth (with a great big old yank!)

Oh the joys of being a woman and the joys of getting older as a woman.  You know, I am a fair haired, blue eyed chick.  Hair on my body (with the exception of my head) from the neck down has never been an issue with me.  I have never had to shave my thighs, nothing there basically.  I am pretty hairless in my bikini area (I know, lucky me!). I virtually have no hair on my arms with the exception of a few blonde scragglers but nothing to write home about.

But the other day, I had the biggest shock of my female life.  I was sitting looking at myself in my 300 x magnification mirror checking out my overly large pores when I noticed something bizarre on the outside of my right nostril. Was it an eyelash, no it was too straight.  Was it an eyebrow, no not thick enough.  Was it a fibre off a piece of clothing, no it wasn’t that either.  On closer examination I realized that whatever it was, was attached to my face!  Oh are you kidding me!!!! Oh my freaking lord, I have a hair growing straight out of the side of my nostril.  No, not in my nostril.  But on the outside growing in a complete straight line towards my cheek bone.  It was so straight and so long that I am sure if I swung my head around quickly, I could have taken someone’s eye right out!  It had camouflaged itself into a very lovely shade of blonde and oh how it blended with my skin tones.

In that moment of seeing that unwanted nose hair, I screamed in horror.  My poor better half came flying down the stairs at an alarming rate.  He grabbed my pudgy face and said “what honey, what’s wrong, are you hurt, did you fall?”  No I sobbed and then pointed to my nostril “look can you see it?”  He strained his eyes until he caught a glimpse of the offending appendage and than he said those magical words “oh great, I am engaged to an ape!”  And then he laughed all the way down the hallway! 

It dawned on me at that moment that my worst nightmare was starting to come true.  Years ago when I was a wee lass, I had seen this older plump Italian woman, and not only did she have a full on foo manchu moustache, but she was sporting her best Robin Hood goatee.  I had nightmares about her facial hair for years and I guess you could say I have been obsessed with hair on my face ever since than. 

So with my best set of tweezers, I plucked that bugger right out of my nose and let me tell you, it didn’t go with out a fight! Because as I was tugging at it, my nostril was being pulled at the same time!  By the time, that bloody little thing popped out, my poor nostril had been stretched to a two finger width!

On a side note, I was telling my mom about it and the first thing she said was “Oh gawd, please don’t blog about this!”  Sorry mom!

In any event, me and my nostril are not going to be thwarted by a hair.  Do you think that they do laser hair removal for one hair off the nostril?  Too much?

Oh well, perhaps I will just let it grow.  Maybe if I just let it grow long enough, it will be able to scratch my cheek!  See, always a bright side people, always a bright side!

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

DO YOU HEAR WHAT I HEAR?

Gently it descends upon me

Falling gracefully before me

Surrounding and enveloping me

Caressing and loving me

It kisses my soul

and leave me longing for more

It brings me joy and peace

with warmth

and solitude

And it rings a mystical tune

in my heart and in my ears

It is the sound of the beauty of

Christmas

IT'S ANOTHER SUNDAY MORNING

The Heavens have opened up with a ferocious rain that is mercilessly bouncing off the road and the sky is blacker than the ace of spades. It's 8:30 a.m. but it feels more like midnight. I am told its the Pineapple Express on route from Hawaii and kissing the coast of the western side of Canada. Flood warnings are in effect but the sounds of a million drops pounding on my roof is nothing short of spectacular. My oblivious pooch and my better half are still snug as bugs in bed, deeply snoring their trumpet like song.

I am up and about as my back can only take so long in a lying stance before I plump up like a painful sausage.  In all honesty, I am okay with getting up early.  It's my time.  Quiet and peaceful, I am alone in the neighbourhood while all other homes remain in blackness.

I wander around my little place of solitude and put on the fire and curl up with a blanket.  And I drift deep into my thoughts only popping out of them every once in awhile when the house lets out a small groan as it settles around me.

I make myself a lovely cup of lavender tea and snap on the Christmas Tree lights and gaze at it adoringly. Just a soft glow, but oh how that glow puts me into a serene trance.  Thoughts stop whirling around and my over active brain goes silent and I am just here in this moment.  This wonderful, blissful moment.

And then I realize...... 

It's just another amazing Sunday morning.

Until Next Time

Smooches Pooches

A MOVELESS RAIN DANCE

It’s raining today, and out of nowhere, my senses have been exhilarated with this deep feeling that my soul is cleansing it’s self. The skylight above me renders a constant pitter patter noise and I am adoring it. I pull my sweater closer around my neck while my eyes flutter in an attempt to remain open and focused.

Thoughts and ideas flit thru my mind, but I am too relaxed to be able to retain them. I am having a moment where I feel peaceful. So ironic for me.

I jump up from my desk at the lunch hour and walk outside and stand there while the sky drizzles down upon me, doing my own version of a moveless impromptu rain dance. Drops are glistening in my hair and then silently rolling down my cheeks and it feels so good. People walk past and give me crazy looks. I smile back and even cheekily say “you should try it some time”. They scamper away from the lunatic on the sidewalk who allows the rain to soak her. But the rain is not soaking me, it’s saturating my soul. Curiously, I feel warm rather than cold. But I understand, the rain is washing away the accumulation of disappointments that I have been holding onto so tightly and for far too long. Slowly and ever so slightly, I feel small releases as each one leaves me. I tell myself it is time to move on from those things I have no control over.

And then, in a moment of haste, I almost miss her. The sweetest child with blonde hair and blue eyes looking up at me perplexed. She blinks and strains her lovely face my way until the recognition dawns on her and she smiles and looks up at the sky. I stand there mesmerized as I watch beautiful silver streaked droplets of water splash on her soft brown eyelashes giving her an almost ethereal glow. She slips her warm soft hand into mine. My heart beats hard because I know her. I once was her. Innocent and happy, kind and thoughtful, with the world before me. She tells me that all will be okay and for a fleeting moment I believe her. I bend down and kiss her forehead and say “I know sweetheart”.

And then, with a turn and a sigh and a yank of my warm duvet, I wake up to the beautiful sound of the rain falling gently on my roof. And my day begins.

Until Next Time.
Smooches Pooches

LESS THAN PERFECT!

I am crabby.

There I said it.  Everyone is driving me nuts today.  I am speaking thru gritted teeth and I seriously feel like knocking someone between the ears.  My face is so pinched and tight, I think I have developed a new wrinkle.  I am doing that pursing of the lips thing and grinding my teeth together.  Oh good grief, I see glimpses of my cantankerous grandma in me, and if I could smack my gums together, we would be twins!

No I am not pms-ing or menopausing!  I am crank-a-fying.  What is crank-a-fying you ask?  Well its when I have had enough of everything. An accumulation of things that I have held in until *POOF*, I explode! Happens several times a year to me. I am pretty good about always being very nice to everyone, but every once in awhile I hit the concrete wall *SMACK, BANG, SPLAT* head first.  I shake myself out and I become Super Angry Chick! Today, I want to beat my boss over the head with a file, I want to hang my clients out of the windows by their ankles, I want to grab the lips of anyone with a sweet loving smile on their face and yank their bottoms lips down to their toe tips and then up the backside of them till I yank it right over their big bloody block head!

I spent the morning visualizing shoving coffee grinds up the old man’s nose that works with me and shoving sugar cubes down his underwear.

I can’t even go on facebook today because if I read one more lovely sugar coated status line, I will not be able to be held responsible for my actions.

Ah yes I see all your faces now.  You thought I was this sweet thing didn’t you!  Yah, you are not alone, that is what my better half thought too!  Man was he surprised the first time I became Super Angry Chick!  You would think after 7.5 years he would learn to walk away, but nope, he thinks if he kisses me and hugs me things will get better.  I do my usual which is to grab hold and twist whatever is in my eye view, which in his case is his nipples.  Poor Bugger. Those purple nurples must kill!

Lucky for me and everyone around me this is much like a 24 hour flu bug.  Tomorrow, I will be me again, right after I gobble a pound of chocolate, eaten a jar of pickles, ran out and screamed at the neighbourhood children, beaten my pillow into submission and ran naked down the street while men in little white coats try to hunt me down.

What can I say, I am so not perfect!

Until Next Time.

I think!!!

HOW LONG WILL YOU BLOG?

I have a whirling mind.  Did you know that?  Thoughts enter in and out of my head like flashes from a camera bulb.  Some of my best thoughts happen while I am having my morning constitution. Gross but true.  I equate it to the fact that I am dispelling the old out of my body so that the new can enter into a clean area.  Fresh ideas, fresh thoughts.  And by the next day, *flush* goes the old thoughts again. I use to write poetry as a teenager and all my best poems came in the middle of the night.  I was pretty good at it too. *This is where I do some unabashed bragging so close your eyes if you are concerned about nauseam*  I won several awards and two international awards, was asked to come to the States to be presented with one of them by a pretty famous comedian and got offered a book deal to publish one of my poems when I was 17.

Now as I get older and am probably a mere 10 years off menopause, I am already finding that I am starting to become sleepless and surrounded in an abundance of my thoughts. Questions, questions, questions pop up in the middle of the night whilst I attempt to slumber away.  And then poof, I am wide awake contemplating my question, or drafting my next blog post, or being still as rhyming words enter in.

Last night, the question that popped into my head was “how long will I blog for”?  Will it bore me at some point, or *gasp*, will I bore you at some point?  Will readership fall off and I am left blogging out in cyberspace just to have my redundant thoughts reverberating somewhere out in the unknown?

I often wonder how I can keep my blog fresh, for me, so that boredom doesn’t start to seep in.

I scanned a great deal of blogs over the last 8 months since I started this crazy endeavor of mine. The oldest blog I have seen was three years old.  The rest were within the last year and half.  Makes me wonder if at some point you just burn out and shut it all down.  What’s worse is that I am already seeing on some other blogs regifting of previous posts.  I am guilty myself in fact.  Not that there is anything wrong with that, but I wonder if they are having difficulty coming up with worthwhile material.

So I wonder, how long will you blog?  And when will it become enough for you?

I think for me it will be when I am no longer being true to myself.  It will be that moment where I am grasping at something or anything just to post for the sake of posting. It will be a substandard version of me.

And that should be the moment when I tip my hat, take my last bow and bid adieu.

Until Next Time.

Smooches Pooches