Keeping Up With the NYRs

Found here

New Year's Resolutions (aka NYR's) are overrated. Lets be honest - the ones most of us set for ourselves are so lofty and unrealistic (both in general and in relation to our own lifestyles) that we are basically setting ourselves up to fail. When is the last time you set a NYR and actually stuck to it (for more than a week), let alone actually accomplished it fully? In addition to being unrealistic, most NYR's are fairly broad as well (lose weight, be more patient) so sometimes it's hard to know if you have actually accomplished it or not!

I am certainly speaking for myself here. In the past I have shot myself in the foot by setting major goals for myself in the wake of the post-new-year/holiday push of energy and self-examination many times (remember this WAY long-winded post from last January?*).

I am so over that.

Don't get me wrong, I am not over setting goals for yourself or pushing yourself to be better. I will always be a huge proponent of that. It's important to examine your life on a regular basis and "clean house", i.e. eliminate or improve on the things that are holding you back. However, I will never be a proponent of pressuring yourself by setting expectations that are so high that it's only a matter of time before I throw them out the window and decide that I am lazy and flawed.

I have realized (the hard way) over time that setting manageable goals is the key. Be honest with yourself about your habits, your inclinations, your personality and what you tend to prioritize in life. Only you can know how much you can manage and what will work for your life/what won't so it's time to get real about that. Who cares what Suzie Underpants over there can manage (or can SEEM to manage - KEY!) - what can YOU manage? What works best for YOU?

So, what works for me? Setting a short list of specific, short-term, realistic goals - ones that are not so specific that I feel restricted, but not so broad that I do not have any clue as to where to start. Activities that are focused around jump-starting new habits, that will hopefully (eventually - no timeline) lead to achieving greater goals (rather than going for the greater goal right out of the gate and ending up trampled by it) is what works for me.

With all this in mind, here are some things I am going to work on in coming weeks:

1. Eat smaller portions and replace carbs with protein/vitamins whenever possible

2. Spend one hour per week on a creative or artistic activity 

(non-writing, e.g. painting, drawing, craft)

3. Go on a hike with the boy once per week

4. Continue to work on getting better quality freelance writing work (I realize this is rather broad, but I have various tactics I plan on trying out to help work toward this goal - including some changes to how and what I write on this blog - stay tuned! - don't need to go into more detail here)

That's it. Sure, I have lots of plans for the year, lots of things I would like to accomplish that are bigger and broader, but those are things that I can tackle when the time is right. They are not urgent priorities (and, in fact, I have to wait for some other things to fall into place before tackling them) and can be kept in the back of my mind until they are. The goals that will be at the front of my mind are only the above. If I can more-or-less stick with them for a few months until they become habit, then I will be happy. When that happens, perhaps I will choose five different primary goals to work on. Or maybe I'll take these ones one step further. 

Who knows. I'll see what happens and how I feel. After all, the power is in my hands, not in theirs.

What do you think of NYRs? Did you make any for this year?

*Speaking of which, related to #  above, I am going to work on being more concise this year. No, seriously.

No, I'm a Weather-Girl

I have heard a lot of chatter lately about high school reunions - a couple of bloggers I follow have attended theirs, and I heard an ad on the radio the other day for the 30 year reunion of a high school in my area.

This got me thinking about my own high school reunion, which could potentially be coming up somewhat soon, considering my 10-year mark will be in 2013 (wow, hard to believe). I am really torn about whether or not I would want to go, as I assume most people are.

On the one hand, it would be really fun to see what everyone looks like, find out what happened to people that were such a big part of your life at one time, and reminisce about the past. It would be like taking a little temporary time-warp back to a time when life seemed really complicated, but was actually quite simple and carefree compared to post-high school standards.

However, in the age of Facebook and Twitter, I feel like I AM up to date about the lives of many people I went to high school with. Even though I don't talk  to them often (or at all - shameful, I know), I can hear about their major life events through status updates and photo albums.

Also, I would not say that high school was necessarily a completely enjoyable experience for me. I enjoyed it, for sure, and I had some great times but I also have painful memories associated with particularly the last couple of years because of some emotional problems I was going through. I would be lying if I said I didn't have regrets about that time - part of me feels that if I could go back in time and make different choices that I might be in a very different place in my life right now. Also, I was not one of the most popular people - I had friends and was involved in lots of activities, but I was also very shy and got good marks so most of the popular kids thought I was a goody-goody, if they even noticed me at all. I had a few core friends, but was sort of friends with various people in different groups, plus I tended to be friends with people no one else would be friends with because I felt bad for them. All of this worked together to make me a bit of an outsider.

But I have taken enough life experience under my belt in the last 8 years that I know that regrets are not really worth it, and there are no guarantees in life no matter what choices you make. Besides, even though I was a very shy, self-conscious person, there was also this streak in me that didn't give a shit about what the popular kids thought of me. Obviously I DID care to an extent, but for the most part I accepted and was happy with my position.

So, I guess in that way, part of me really doesn't CARE about my reunion. What point is there REALLY in getting together with these people for one night and then going back to our respective lives, nothing changed?

I feel like, in a way, reunions are way overrated. I feel like a lot of people go so that they can prove to people that used to make fun of them or that once said or did something mean to them that they are really awesome people now. I feel like a lot of people see it as a competition in general - Who is married and who is single (or *egads* divorced)? Who has the coolest job? Who is the richest? Who has the hottest spouse? Who has visited the most countries? Lets be honest - other people's misfortunes often make us feel better about our own lives.

All of that is SOOOOO lame and proof that regressing back to high school is not necessarily a good thing. So much about high school is drama and status and I feel like getting together with people you went to high school with could possibly transport you back to that environment again, wherein you all sort of morph into the roles you once played.

This all being said, I will likely go to my reunion (if they have one) if for no other reason than curiosity. And I am sure most people go to their reunions in a mature frame of mind and see it only as a chance to catch up, nothing more, and my wonderings above about the negatives of these events are completely silly. I wonder if it depends on the type of reunion it is - for example, I feel like the 10-year reunion is far enough away from the high school experience that you all have grown a lot, but at the same time it is still close enough that some of the insecurities are more likely to reappear (or still be there)? I don't know! What do you think?

Would you go to your high school reunion? Or, on the other hand, HAVE you gone to one? What was it like? What do you think about high school reunions in general? I would love to hear everyone's thoughts on this subject...

Happy Hump Day!

PS: Have you seen Romy and Michele's High School Reunion? It's really dumb but funny. I love Lisa Kudrow so much - she's so good at playing the 'flake'. AAAAND did you know that they made a follow-up in 2005 called "Romy and Michele: In the Beginning", starring Katherine Heigl?! That's right, they went there. The funniest thing is they made it for ABC Family (? Yes, because I would want my young children watching scantily-clad, ditzy women stumble around?). I would love to watch that sometime just to see how BAD it really is (oh, you know it's bad). 

This is one of my favourite parts of the movie. I love two things very much about this clip: #1) That the girl in the peach suit standing next to annoying-weather-girl-that-I-want-to-punch-in-the-face  is Pam from True Blood, and #2) Michele's explanation of her Post-It glue recipe. Genius. 

A (belated) Father's Day Wish

Father's Day is  a bittersweet day for me. For the most part, it goes by unnoticed, just another day in my calendar. Because, you see, I don't have a dad to celebrate.

When I was a kid I had a dad - he wasn't he greatest dad ever, but I still thought he was pretty cool. He would spend hours talking to me about planes and various technical things and I would sit fascinated thinking how amazingly smart he was. He was an engineer and a pilot, and he skydived hundreds of times - I mean, rockstar, much?! He would let me play hairdresser with his (very sparse) locks and would take us on fun outings canoeing or to his office, which was like a playground to me at the time.

I still remember the day my mom told me they were getting divorced; like it was yesterday. I was 12 years old, feeling quiet and awkward and I not knowing anyone else whose parents were divorced. As if I didn't feel like enough of an outsider already.

We still saw my dad often at first - we would go to his house every couple of weeks and he even bought my mom a Christmas gift that first year. But things started to change, eventually we didn't go over as often, and then one day he just fell off the face of the earth. He came to my ninth grade graduation and after that I didn't hear from him for two years.

Two years of no phone calls, no cards, no emails. Nothing. He emerged again when I was in 11th grade and my sister and I went to his house. I thought things were going to go back to normal, that we would start to see him regularly again, but alas it didn't happen. I wasn't 13 anymore - I wasn't completely naive, and I started to find things out that I had never known before.

I witnessed the messy court battles that carried on for years between these two people who used to love each other, over various financial issues. I started to learn about the affairs (which, according to my mother, were consistent from the day they were together), the alcoholism and associated drama. Stories of mistresses calling my mother at home, of her dragging my drunken father home from another bender, and of horrible insults hurled. Turns out during his two year "hiatus" as dad, he had moved to Ontario to take a contract engineering job. I was never told about it; I had to hear this from a family friend who worked with him. I heard even later that he came back because he was fired from that job for coming to the site drunk and basically making a scene with his boss.

After his return in my 11th grade year, we only spoke sporadically. I really couldn't tell you how many times I spoke to him or saw him in the next few years, but I could probably count them each on one hand. The veneer had vanished for me - the awe and admiration I had for him when I was a child were replaced with pity and anger. I simultaneously hated him for basically abandoning my sister and I and pitied him for letting drinking take over his life to such a degree.

I still have a mixture of pity and pain towards my father. I have had ZERO contact with him in probably 5+ years, even though he lives right in my city and I could drive to wherever he lives in 10 minutes. That is, I could if I knew where he lived. I have no idea where he works, or if he is even still working (he would be 67 by now). I don't even know his phone number, and even if I did I wouldn't call it. The only indication I have that he is even alive is the occasional call he makes to my mother's place (she still has the same phone number as when they were together, even though she has moved a few times), usually drunk and nonsensical. Sad, sad phone calls where my mother can't bring herself to hang up the phone out of pity.

From what I can tell, he is alone now - no girlfriend (or so I've heard), and certainly no contact with his children (he has two children from a previous marriage to my mother that I am pretty sure do not talk to him either) - and spends the majority of his days drunk.

It makes me sad that such an intelligent, accomplished person could just take their life and completely flush it down the toilet. That someone could be so averse to asking for help and admitting they have a problem, that he continues to blame his misfortunes on others. It makes me sad that I won't have a "father-daughter" dance at my wedding, and I can't help but feel a twinge in my heart when I see dad's and daughters sharing a touching moment - a look or a laugh. I like to joke that the only thing my dad gave me was his nose, and it's not even his best feature.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not trying to rag on Father's Day or be depressing or whine. Honestly I debated whether or not to even post this because I didn't want to give the wrong impression. It's just that all the talk of Father's Day the last week or two compelled me to share my story, even though it's not the rainbows-and-roses type of tale that people like to hear.

I can't lie - hearing all the 'happy dad stories' made me a bit jealous, even though I also felt happiness for the celebration. Sort of like when my best friend got married last year and I felt a mixture of happiness for them, and depression because I was no where near that point in my life.

I just felt that maybe I could add something new and alternative to the mix. I'm sure there are others out there who have not had good dad's, and that can relate to my story.

And perhaps there is a lesson here. I am extremely blessed, and I recognize that. But there is no question that there is a small "hole" in my soul because I didn't have the full support and presence of two, stable, loving parents. I am not sure I will ever be able to forgive my father or if I will ever even get the chance to do this and there are residual affects of his abandonment that I am not sure I will ever be able to shake off completely. My life is fulfilled without him in it, and I am actually grateful for the experience because it made me who I am today, but it doesn't mean I do not mourn for what could have been - for the relationship we could have had, if he had only been there.

So, to those of you that have dads that are supportive of you, are encouraging, show you love and compassion, and are just THERE for you - hold onto them for dear life. Tell them and show them that you appreciate them, because there are lots of people that would love to have what you have. Nobody is perfect, but they should at least get points for trying.

Because dad's like mine exist is all the more reason to celebrate the GOOD dad's out there - the ones who are there for their kids, who support and encourage them, who fulfill their duties.

To all those dad's, I happily and whole-heartedly wish you a Happy (belated) Father's Day. YOU actually deserve it, even if mine doesn't.

Time After Time

Today is a tough day for me. Sure, it's the last day of May and the first sunny day we have had in I don't even remember when. All good things. However, it is also an anniversary. And not the good kind.

I still remember the phone call like it was yesterday - May 31st, 2007: Me, calling home to my mom on a calling card from my dorm at Regent's College in London, England where I was staying on a month-long course in International PR with 15 or so other students from the US/Canada. I was set to get up at 4 in the morning to catch a bus and then a train to Paris on a solo 2-day tour (with a group bus component on Day 1) and wanted to call home to say "hi" one last time before taking off.

I knew something was wrong as soon as Dawn picked up (a co-worker of my mom's at the time). Why would Dawn be answering mum's phone? Mom came to the phone anyway though and I assumed, in that case, that I was worrying too soon (as I often do). However, the heavy feeling in the pit of my stomach still sat there with a numbness. Like a toothache. I could tell she was upset about something only a few minutes into the phone call. She didn't want to tell me and begged me not to press her, but I had to know. How could I go to Paris knowing that something was wrong? I wouldn't be able to get it out of my mind.

And then she told me. And it was almost as if I knew it had happened before she told me. It was a thought that passed through my mind as a possibility, but quickly dismissed as overreaction (that couldn't possibly be what happened). So, it really did happen. The thing that I feared the most, but easily dismissed. It's a very strange moment and a shock to the system when the worst thing you could imagine turns out to actually be true.

Phil, my mother's boyfriend of 10 years (and basically more of a father to me than my own father) was gone. He had been out walking and collapsed. Not really an impossibility for someone with serious heart problems, but the last thing you would expect just to look at him - a tall, husky, strong man with huge arms and long strong legs. Like a huge tree - roots deep into the ground. How could such a strong, stable object fall down and crumple so easily?

I had no idea what to do. I didn't want to go to Paris anymore. I wanted to go home. I wanted to hug my mom and tell her everything was going to be ok and cry with her, but I couldn't. I couldn't even get in a cab and cross the ocean. I have never felt so helpless and alone. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs, kick the walls, tear out my hair. I felt like my brain had separated into several pieces and were scattered around the room. Luckily, my roommate was gone for the weekend by that time so I was able to grieve into my pillow without someone who wouldn't understand looking over my shoulder, but I think even if the dorm were full of people I would have felt alone. In the end, I decided to go ahead with my plan and go to Paris. He would have wanted to me to (mum agreed), I had already paid the money, and there was no way for me to get home that weekend. Besides, escaping seemed like a great idea in that moment.

I have never been prouder in myself than I was in that moment. I am so proud that I had the strength to pull myself out of bed, walk to that bus stop (even though I got sick on the way, and was *thisclose* to turning around and going back), and board that train alone. To venture to a strange city where I knew no one and not even the language and follow through on a commitment I made to myself. I realized in that moment that I am a tough person. However, under the tough coating, I spent most of the weekend in a kind of fog, with a million thoughts and none flowing through my brain all at the same time, and feeling completely lonely in a city of millions. I felt like I had spent months tethered to a wonderful island and someone had come along and cut my moorings and I was floating in the middle of the ocean - alone, with vast expanses of water between me and the land, which I could not even see.

As anyone who has lost someone close to them knows, the pain does not stay so acute forever. Slowly, your body and mind recover and you start to smile and laugh again. You have whole days where you never think of the person and don't need to talk about it anymore.

But (at least in my case) the person is never completely gone. He is always with me even though he's no longer here. I see him as a small figure - a kind of spirit - that lingers somewhere near the back of my brain and my shoulder. I think of him often - Phil would have said this, Phil would have gotten a kick out of that, Phil would have been able to help me with that.....etc. Whenever I see fish cakes on a menu (whether I order them or not), I can hear him laughing and feel him winking, knowing that he promised to make them (his specialty) for me when I got home from England, although he never got that chance. I can eat dinner with Phil whenever I want just by ordering fish cakes.

Sometimes I think of all the things I didn't get a chance to say and I cry. Some days it seems like only yesterday that that horrible phone call happened, and sometimes it seems like 10 years ago. Sometimes it's tough to focus on the positive, but I try to do that every day. As tough and sudden as his passing was, it taught me incredible lessons and I count us lucky to have had his positive presence in our lives for as long as we did.

Most of all it taught me immense amounts about myself, and brought me closer to my mother than ever - enclosing us in an invisible bond, leaving a special knowing and shared experience linking us together forever. I know that I can get through whatever life throws at me now, because I made it through this. The worst thing. I'm a different person because of it - a little more worn, a little rougher around the edges - but I am still me. Just a stronger me. Stronger because I can be, but also because I know wherever I go that he is holding me up and pushing me.

Holding and pushing me with those huge, strong arms.

*I should mention that this post is not meant to garner sympathy or comments. I am not normally one to talk about my personal life in-depthly on this blog, or ever in my "real life" either but writing about it helps me feel better, helps the painful memories I have associated with this day less acute. I also feel I owe it to Phil to keep remembering him and what happened. I hope that others who have lost people close to them can read this and take solace, too*

War...what is it good for?

It was quite the scene on America's Next Top Model last night. I for one was shocked at Brittany's behaviour on the set of the Ford photo shoot, and I found the wheels in my head turning like crazy with my opinions about the incident - so much so that I felt I had to share.

(unfortunately I couldn't find a good video, so those of you that didn't see it may be a tad lost as to what I'm talking about, but sorry it's too much to explain)

I also felt I had to share because I feel there is a good lesson here that can be applied to everyday life. The models and the setting can serve as a metaphor for something everyone (in my opinion) should keep in mind.

Look, I dislike Alexandria as much as everyone else does - she is bossy, full of herself and sucks up to the judges - and I certainly understand the urge to call people like that out (I think we all have known people we would like to punch in the face). But the fact is, no matter what your feelings are about somebody, there is a time and place for voicing those opinions. The time and place is NOT your place of work or in any kind of setting where you are being closely analyzed and watched. And the time and place is CERTAINLY not in front of your boss, supervisor, or other important person (which, in this case, was photographer and judge, Nigel Barker). In fact, that is the last person you should be having immature yelling matches in front of. If you feel that you must confront the person that you have issues with, at least do it in private.

You know what happens when you have an angry confrontation with someone in front of other people? It doesn't call that person out so much as it makes YOU look like an idiot. It makes you look like an impulsive, crazy, irrational person. Instead of making you look like the bigger person, it stoops you down to the other person's level. I'm not saying that a confrontation like this does NOT make the other person look bad, but it also makes YOU look bad, and why would you want that?

I am probably not a good person to judge others when it comes to confrontation and the proper way of doing it because I'm the most non-confrontational person ever. I am very shy about calling people out and in most cases will not say anything, even if I really want to. However, part of the reason I do not confront people even if I want to is because I do not necessarily feel that confrontation is helpful in all situations. And I feel that even if confrontation will be helpful in a situation, that there is a certain way it should be done.

Aside from it being done in private, I think it helps if a confrontation is done civilly. In fact, I don't really like the word "confrontation" for that reason - if a situation is "confrontational" it inherently implies anger and aggression. It conjures up the image of a pair of guests on an episode of Jerry Springer - faces inches apart, mouths wide open and flapping rapidly, wild eyes, arms flapping up and down and fingers wagging. I don't know about you, but I find that to be a rather scary and intimidating image.

You know what Microsoft Word lists as synonyms for "confrontation"? Argument, disagreement, quarrel, altercation, war of words, conflict, row, opposition, resistance, defiance. I prefer the word "discussion", whose synonyms are listed as follows: conversation, debate, argument, dialogue, talk, chat. Now, do those synonyms not sound less scary to you?!

My point is, discussing a problem you have with another person does not have to be angry. There is a way to discuss such things in a way that is straightforward and lets them know that you are frustrated, while also staying calm. You can state your case in a clear, articulate way and ultimately get your point across more clearly and avoid a lot of misunderstanding. The thing is, yelling and anger only invites more yelling and more anger and it is pretty tough to bring an angry yelling match to a happy conclusion. However, the same is true for calm and rationale - they invite more calm and more rationale. Obviously, some people are going to get angry with what you say whether you say it calmly or not, but the difference there is that it will only be THEM making an ass of themselves instead of both of you. You will look positively saintly next to their volatility. Either that or the other person is not going to change anyway or even care about your opinion of them. Either way, you will have made your point and kept your dignity intact at the same time.

Plus, lets be honest you will get a great laugh from seeing their face turn bright red and their spit fly.

I admit, I respect people who can confront others in an assertive yet articulate way because I have a lot of trouble with that, and that's another part of the reason why I generally don't confront people - when I do, my emotions start to well up and I start rambling, turning red and sputtering as a result. In most cases, it's just better for me to not get into it. However, I will never respect people who choose to unload their frustrations in an angry and public way - I will just continue to shake my head in disbelief at their behaviour and be convinced that they are starved for attention and/or extremely conceited.

This is pretty much what I was doing all last night while watching the antics on ANTM unfold. The crappy thing is, I like Brittany a lot and she is one of my favourite girls on the show this year. However, I lost a lot of respect for her because of this incident, and it's clear that the judges and the other girls did too (did anyone else notice how NO ONE backed Brittany up when she finally did confront Alexandria? Funny how that happens-the other girls obviously know how to keep their feelings to themselves). That is HUGE, especially when it comes to a career like modelling which is based in large part on reputation. And HELLO?! You are supposed to be a role model! What kind of message are you sending to young girls who watch you? It's bad enough that models make young girls feel fat and ugly, lets not add to that by justifying unprofessional behaviour too.

I totally agree with everything Tyra told her (even though Tyra frankly annoys me a lot of the time), but I also agree that she should be given a second chance because another thing I believe is that someone should not be judged on one decision or incident, but by their overall "body of work".

We make mistakes - we get angry and don't think rationally, we use poor judgment and say things we don't mean, that's part of being a human being. Lord knows I have gotten upset over silly things millions of times before, put my foot in my mouth only to feel like a huge douche and/or moron later. But the key is to learn from these mistakes and not make poor decisions like this a trend. Freaking out angrily and publicly once is one thing - doing it on the daily is a whole other issue. I just hope Brittany learned a lesson from all of this.

The  bottom line is: The way I see it, when in doubt, keep your mouth shut.