Thursday, August 27, 2015

Almost 30

Now that I'm 27, people have started to use this term for me. Almost 30. No thank you. I am closer to 25 than I am to thirty, and yes my 10 year grad reunion is next year, what's it to ya? 
It probably bothers me so much because I still feel 22. Until I hang out with 22 year old and this happens...

But especially with dwelling hunting on the weekly calendar, I still feel the need to bring a real adult with me to showings. 

I don't want to be one of those people who obsesses over age, I think we're still damn lucky to be here, and every age should be celebrated, but it caught me off guard. Even when we celebrated my sisters dirty thirty last year, I felt a little betrayed to be honest. My own sister! I was pretty ready for 27, not as ready for almost 30. 

Friday, August 21, 2015

Death Cafe

Ever heard of this? Where a group of strangers get together to talk about death? It's a taboo subject, that our society doesn't like to think about. Wednesday night, with a friend of mine, I went to one. When we went around the group saying our names and why we were there. When it got to me, I said, "My name is Jenn, and before loosing the most important man in my life last year, my only experience with loss had been a hampster when I was 10." The guy running it asked me his name. I cried and choked on it a bit. Gary. I didn't realize how long it had been since I said it out loud, I call him dad you see. It could have been months. 

I think about death pretty often these days. How I will die, and what kind of legacy I'll leave behind. I used to rarely think of death, and always thought it would be old age that gets me, but lately I don't feel that same garuntee. Maybe it's survivors guilt, but I just don't feel safe about how long we have on earth anymore. Going to the Death Cafe helped me realize I'm not alone in my morbid thoughts. 

I cried. I laughed. It challenged a few of my ideals around our justice system, life after death and planning for death. We talked about a good death versus a bad death. We heard from someone who had a near death experience. We talked about suicide. The ages ranged from seventy six, to sixteen. Without betraying the confidentiality of the other people there and their openness to share, I can tell you I felt a sense of closeness and acceptance. Peaceful acceptance if you will. 

I bought the guy's book, so call me a sucker if you want, but he wrote inside, "your gentle heart is such a gift". And if that's true, I believe it was a gift I inherited. 

Wednesday, August 19, 2015

Never a dry eye

I keep thinking about that phrase "there wasn't a dry eye in the place" because someone said that about the Celebration of Life we had for dad. I didn't see a dry eye at the one for my cousin Aaron either. To be honest, there's been a lot of places since then too. There wasn't a dry eye in the car to work some days. Lots of days. In the living room when we watched that video again the other night. At the dentist when they asked about dad. At the hair dressers. Just now in the kitchen when we heard that song that hit a little too close to home, not a single dry eye. But I heard someone say it's a testiment to the love we had for them, and that I believe to be very true. 

My one open letter

Dear Mr. Sheeran,
I’ve decided to write you a letter because I have an aunt who lives in L.A. and there’s a radio station there announcing that now you’re done your tour, and looking for a nice girl to bring back to your mansion in Ireland. Like the rest of the bloody planet, I’ve been serenaded by your love songs. I’d never forgive myself if I didn’t put my name forward for that, because if and only if BOTH the sharting story and the ketchup story are true, we are soulmates.
I actually don’t even know how I’ll get this to you, because I don’t have a clue where you are. How do you get a hold of celebrities? If you’re witty/tragic/rude enough to catch their attention online. It must be comforting for people who have stalkers to have someone admit that.
I’ve also never been to Ireland, although I said if I was ever single again I wanted to kiss my way from one coast to another. As many gingers as possible per kilometer. Ah yes, full disclosure, I have thing for gingers. But I’d promise to be on my best behaviour if we went there. I'm all talk anyhow. 
Are you close to Seattle? It’s just over the border into the States, Washington actually, from Canada. Which is where I am. Not in an igloo, although it would probably be more spacious. I’ll be in Seattle in just over a week, but I’m taking a ridiculous way of getting there. I’m riding my bike the 260km in the Ride to Conquer Cancer. Does that make me tragic, do I fit the bill? Nah, I don’t have a life threatening disease, but I have raised almost $4000 for the cause, which is still lots of money to me, as I’m not horribly talented and successful.
On the successful note, I haven’t checked the Wikipedia page you inevitably have, because I like to think we’re the same age. But maybe you’re just rising to fame before your twenties and that makes me at least 8 years your senior, and a cradle robber. Or you’ve got a baby face. My friends date older guys. Ok, I have this ONE friend who dates WAY older guys. She’d give me the ok as long as you’re not old enough to be my dad. Ew, for the record.
Now that I’m into the 5th paragraph, and frankly if you’re still reading this, we’re on a first name basis, is Ed short for anything? I know an Ed, his name is short for Edward. Like Edward Cullen! I’ll pretend not to be a closet Twihard, as long as you don’t sparkle when you’re shirt comes off. But damn, that would be funny right?
I guess it’s hard for famous people to date eh? I wouldn’t know. That same aunt from LA sees celebrities all the time, and she just ignores them, says they want to live average lives. I’m sure we have famous people here too, but I bet they hide because we don’t share Auntie’s mentality. But it’s not like you can just put yourself online. And I hate going on a date where the servers are too scandalously dressed, but I can’t imagine them throwing themselves on the table trying to get obscene body parts signed.
So then what? You just rent out the entire revolving restaurant? How low key. No pressure right? “I’ve made everyone here sign confidentiality agreements, how’s the chicken?”
And don’t let your friends set you up man, dammmnnnnn. Maybe you have friends with better judgment than mine, but what is it about being single that makes everyone try to pair you all up? I swear I’ve been on dates where the only thing we have in common is the fact that we’re single. Yes he’s a warm body with a heartbeat and no ring on his left hand, but I was looking for a little more...
And you have that whole fortune thing to take into consideration, because I’m betting SHE will. I’ve never had that problem. I had a boyfriend once that had me put things on my credit card and then he paid me back, but that’s just because I was slightly less broke than he was.
On that broke thing, I did attempt to go to your show when you came to Vancouver, but I don’t often go to concerts, and I couldn’t figure out how to buy tickets properly. The only ones that came up were over $80 each, because as my sister pointed out, it defaults to “most expensive first”. You were too expensive for me darling, but I heard you nailed it.
Yes darling. Because I’ve almost run out of things to say, and shockingly I still have your attention. I had a friend that shattered my dreams of convincing you to fall in love with me because she’d heard you were gay. I googled it and found your tweet about not being gay, not having a girlfriend, just enjoy the music. Oh we have though! If I lost 40 pounds, and learned how to dance in a way that didn’t embarrass my friends when we go out, I could almost be that brunette in the Thinking Out Loud video. Although I don’t know which is more outlandish, especially since this was me last weekend.

Yes. That’s icecream. I lived on that and wine for 5 days, got a tattoo with my grandma and called it a vacation. The time before that I jumped out an airplane tandem. I’ve sworn against ever doing it again, because it scared me half to death, but should you want to try it, we could strap together and give ‘er a go. I’ll make that exception.
Is it a bucket list item for you? Is the plan to keep writing chart topping songs? I have no musical talent to speak of, I played the trumpet in middle school, but I mostly just held it up and pretended. Please do keep it up though, myself and the rest of the lonely women in the world need a pairing to fuzzy socks and wine. I won’t add ‘tears’ here, we’re not THAT pathetic.
I think if there was ever someone deserving of love, it would be you. I don’t like the idea of people deserving other people though, same as I don’t like the idea of “dating someone out your field” or “dating down” because it implies a hierarchy of humans. It makes me uncomfortable to think that we’re evaluated against each other, based on what? Material items? Money? Stature? I had to add that one, I’m only 5’0 tall. But maybe that’s why I’ve worked up the courage to write to you. I believe we’re all equal. Except rapists and murderers, don’t get me started.
Well you’ve made it this far, I hope you’ve had as much fun as I have, and you’re smiling, even if you’re not Ed Sheeran, but especially if you are.
(oh yea, you’ve read it this far my fine feathered friend...)

Thursday, August 6, 2015

Presleep musings

Some people have told me they have a hard time turning their brain off at night, they think about their day, problems, the great mysteries of the world and why we're here. I've never had this experience. The only thought that's ever kept me up is, "Right. So I have to pee. But I'm super comfortable. Would I be more or less comfortable if I got up, versus trying to hold it all night?" I usually fall asleep before I can properly make up my mind. And no, I don't ever pee the bed, it's not that kind of blog post. 

Monday, August 3, 2015

How rude autocorrect

When people ask me what was my most embarrassing moment, I have to think about it. Not because I don't have one, but because I have SO many, that were so many levels of embarrassing, it's hard to pick just one. This kind of stuff happens to me regularily, and I blame my twisted sense of humour, one hundred percent. But this time, I blame autocorrect. 
So Saturday I was hanging out at a friends for a BBQ/pool party and I remembered a guy I graduated with completed an Iron Man, so I wanted to message him on Facebook and congratulate him. We'd talked about going biking together, so when he asked me how my training is going, I said we should make it out, so he could kick my butt. Only thing is, my phone autocorrected "kick" to none other than "lick". Yup, I told a gorgeous guy I haven't seen in years he should lick my butt. Great. I don't blame him one bit for not messaging me back.