January Wrap Up

Well, January is almost over. And I've blogged exactly once (well twice with this entry, but it doesn't count). Realistically, I got almost nothing done that I set out to do.

But! I started a new bible study. And I've spent more time doing things that make me happy (like writing and knitting). I've actually really enjoyed the month.

And!!!! I bought a gym membership AND I WENT TO THE GYM!

This is the first gym membership that I have ever had. And I actually enjoyed myself. I made a playlist and I just blared it. And I wasn't worried about what other people were doing/ if they were watching me. Which is huge, because I am always secretly worried about what other people think of me.

So, I guess I can't really say that January has been a write off.

So moving forward, in February I hope there is more gym, more yoga and more health. Less stress, less "being broke" and less cursing.

And of course more inspirational words!

(Yes, this is already posted, but it's my favourite.)

When your bad luck outweighs your good

It has been said that if I didn't have bad luck, I would have no luck.

I would agree with this statement. Whole heartedly. 

Two weekends ago, Kate and myself were slated to transport three dogs from our area to the Montreal SPCA. I'd done this once before and it was easy and painless. So we picked up the dogs and started out. It was a great little drive. Except for the fact that one of the dogs, a shitz-tu that we named Yzma, didn't stop her shrill barking. So I had to pull over an hour into the drive to take her out of the crate and give her to Kate to hold. Unfortunately for Kate, she was covered in old pee. And stank. Every time she moved, we got a whiff and it was enough to make us gag. 

We made it to the Montreal SPCA with no more difficulties and got the dogs unloaded and signed into their care. Then we jumped back into the Jeep for the ride home. Except when I went to back out there was no power steering. So I popped out to check that everything was okay. And let's just say that it wasn't.

Thankfully the people and staff of the Montreal SPCA were lovely and cool headed, we spread kitty litter all over the lot to soak up the various liquids spewed out and they had one of their people look at the engine. And then Kate and I sat in the building to think about what we were going to do. Kate had to open the next morning at 5 and we both have 2 dogs that needed to be fed and walked. Spending the night in Montreal was not an option. 

So I did what I do whenever I'm in a spot of trouble: I called Lisa. 

And she offered to drive from Stittsville to Montreal to pick us up. So I had the Jeep towed to a garage that was still open, and then Kate and I wandered the streets of Montreal, ate MacDonald's and tried to find a Starbucks that we could take refuge in until Lisa and Jan rescued us. 

Although, the whole situation was pretty terrible, the silver lining in it was the confirmation that I have wonderful friends in my life. I don't know many people that would have offered to drive 3.5 hours to pick us up and then turn around and head back to Ottawa. 

So although I have terribly bad luck, the one area I have an abundance of luck in, is my friends.

When an ending is just a new beginning

My roommate turned best friend moved out of our apartment yesterday.

And while it was an exciting event, at the same time it was one of sadness for me.

There was much joy because she was moving into her very own space- one that she had purchased. There was happiness, because how can you not be happy for someone who is gaining their stride and chasing their dreams and ambitions?

There was sadness as I loaded boxes onto the truck. There was sadness as I returned home last night to an apartment that while still full of furniture and things, felt ever so empty. There were tears (only a few, maybe 7 total) as I realized that my ending was her beginning. Home suddenly felt lonely and quiet to me.

Today, waking up alone in my apartment, I was suddenly filled with a sense of beginning. This is another new beginning for me. A new roommate, a potential friend, will move in. And we will muddle through the first few weeks until suddenly, hopefully, we click. And that sense of home that I feel is missing will return.

I know there will be times where I miss her lots, but those times will be made better with a text. And I know I will still see her, especially since she moved just a hop, skip and jump away. There will be dinners at her new place, and afternoons spent knitting. It's not an ending. Just a new beginning.

Until my new roommate moves in, I'll be spending my time alone watching Netflix on the couch, pant-less, and listening to the Frozen soundtrack on repeat. Loudly. (Sorry neighbours!)

I'm also bringing back the pop in. If you're in the neighbourhood, feel free to pop in. Don't text, just come. If I'm home, we'll visit, if I'm not.... well, better luck next time.

Home

I went home for a week at the beginning of August.

McLellan cottage. Guaranteed good times.  

Home is Prince Edward Island. It's red dirt roads and waves at the beach. It's being able to walk down the middle of the road and not worry about any traffic. It's fields full of potatoes and barley and wheat and hay. It's hearing the lobster boats before you see them bobbing on the water. It's being able to visit before calling ahead to make sure someone's home. It's coffee on the deck in the morning and sitting on the couch in the evening reading because there is no TV at the cottage. It's BBQs and family.

Oh boy, is it family.

My family, on my mom's side, is large and noisy and everything that you think it is. It's dozens of cousins and aunts and uncles and merriness and shenanigans. It's messy and fun and chaotic. And it's mine and I love them all.

Afternoon at the beach in Richard's Point
where Nan used to bring us all. 

Being home this summer was weird. It was the first summer that I'd been away since Nan passed away. There were lots of times I'd think to myself, "Well, I must run up home and see Nanny." Only to realize a second later that she wasn't there to go see. And there were dozens of times that I drove past the cemetery and I'd have the thought that I should stop in and visit her, but I couldn't bring myself to do so. Mostly because I knew there'd be tears. And I hate crying in public. But also because I knew that Nan knew I was home, she knew how I did with school, she knew everything. See the thing is, even though my Nan is gone, I still talk to her. Mostly it's while I'm lying in bed almost asleep but not quite, but it's also the quiet moments I have while I'm walking the dog or sitting in a park. There have been many moments since she passed that I've had little conversations with her.

It's weird, because I'm not the type of person that has conversations with people that are gone. But Nan was a huge part of my life and it feels wrong to not include her in it still.

Red dirt roads and water. Typical PEI.

My visit home was also a time for me to reconnect with my mom. Although we talked quite often on the phone it's much easier to talk to each other while you are sitting face to face. Mom and I laughed and cried about Nan (of course), we talked about school and life, and everything in between. It was wonderful. There have been a few moments in the last year that I've wondered if mom was upset that I had moved back to Ottawa to go to school. If she thought that maybe I was abandoning her while she still was getting over Nan's death. My talks with mom reassured me that even though she missed having me around she was more than happy that I was living in a city I love, surrounded by friends I love, studying what I discovered I love.

Light lunch at Windows on the
Water in Montague.

My time at home was filled with food. And lots of good food. There were meals out with the family. And a huge chowder night with the cousins to celebrate the birthdays of my brother and myself. There were lunches and coffee dates. Home, for me at least, is a place where there is an abundance of good food and great coffee. What makes them great, is probably the company that comes with both.

Looking back, it's easy to see why I love home so much- it's the people. It's not easy to leave them behind, but I've also got amazing people that make up my Ottawa family. And let's face it, they too love food and coffee. So it's no hardship saying goodbye to one family and heading back to see my other family.

So while PEI is home, Ottawa is also home.

And I like that.

View from our table at The PEI Preserve Company in New Glasgow.

Why I chose not to go to my 10 year reunion

I graduated high school 10 years ago.

I chose not to go to my high school reunion this summer. There were several reasons that played into this decision. Mostly it was the fact that I haven't remained friends with more than 3 people that I graduated with.

High school was a journey in self discovery for me. I transferred high schools before my grade 10 year even happened. So I already knew I was going to be completely alone. I knew no one. Well, I knew of my cousin Isaac, but we had never spoken or met before. Basically, it was me, on my own. I was painfully shy and just wanted to stick my nose in a book and never interact with anyone.

Fast forward three years: I'm graduating. I have tons of friends and I'm like every other grad that night- excited, anxious to start university, and promising everyone that we will stay best friends forever.

Fast forward two years: I'm in my second year of university. I don't keep in touch with anyone that I graduated with. I run into many of them on campus, but it's like we don't know each other. So much for friendships lasting forever. I have made other friends. People that understand me. People that make me laugh and don't mind going to the library to study (because I am a complete bookworm and books still make me happier than people do).

Fast forward to today: I live and work in Ottawa. I keep in touch with one person that I graduated with. My life goals do not include getting married and having kids in the next 2 years (like almost everyone that I graduated high school with). I'm on track to become a chartered accountant. I have friends that I know I will have for the rest of my life. People who I can cry with if I need to. People who understand me inside and out. People who don't mind going for long pointless walks with the dog. Holidays spent here aren't terrible, because these wonderful friends have become part of my family.

So why would I spend money to travel home to see people that I don't really care for, that don't know me, that are going to pass judgement on how my life has turned out in comparison to theirs? There are other reasons not to go: my last year wasn't entirely pleasant, it's expensive to travel home, I didn't want to. People have this grandiose picture of what reunions are like, thanks to Hollywood. I really don't think it's going to be like that at all.

I'm sure you get the picture.


EDIT- I found out, shortly after writing this, that my reunion was cancelled because no one bought tickets. Guess it's not like in the movies after all.