Steve Jobs

When I was in Teacher’s College, I was part of an immersion program where a selected group of about 25 students would spend a day a week in a local elementary school, focusing our learning on language arts in the classroom. It was funny, because even though we were in the school itself, the classroom we were in was an extension of the university, rarely did we interact with children during those days. In addition, the group of us were also in most other classes together. As a result, we spent a lot of time with our fellow students and amazing friendships developed. 

It was in this program that I met Joanne. (Well, more specifically, I met her outside of the class, trying to figure out what kind of program we joined and where were we supposed to go?) I quickly found we had a similar sense of humor and outlook and subsequently spent most of the year laughing so hard that either crying or pants-peeing would ensue. That year is one that I will always remember, the road trips, procrastination, pub nights, breakfasts at the hoito, sing alongs, boys and more boys, nicknames and other things amongst the stress of knowing that: holy crap, next year we are going to have careers…

Part of what was so daunting for me that year were the practicums that would need to be completed in an elementary school classroom. Not the practicum itself, but the fact that there were no further spots in the school board in my hometown, so I would have to move cities for a number of months to fulfill my requirements. I decided to move to Southern Ontario, where my mother’s sister and her young family lives and that meant moving away from most of my family and friends for the the first time.

Joanne lived about 45 minutes away from my new home in Newmarket, and knew Toronto very well from growing up in its suburbs and working there for a number of years. For some reason, this wonderful woman took pity on me and would come to pick me up every weekend (Friday night or Saturday morning) and she would spend the weekends with me, tour guiding me through Toronto’s neighborhoods and really showing me the city from the inside out. We nicknamed her father’s home, which we took over on the weekends, the Frathouse, in homage to the excessive amounts of beer and whiskey were being consumed on a weekly basis and hellya, we were going to deal with the stress of the daunting, grown up future by being as young as possible now. The mantra: “What are you going to do about it? Cry? No, keep drinking!” was born and suited our purposes very well for that year.

Last weekend, I spent Friday night with Joanne (or Josie as she is known to the Riverdale Crew) and it brought back these amazing memories and such gratitude for having met such a kind soul. It is her I credit with breaking this Betty Cooper out of her small-town mentality and stagnation and fear. Without her support and friendship, I am sure my life would be much different and absolutely I would have fewer stories to tell.

It will be a lifetime of Betty trying to pay back Josie for these precious gifts.

It is Friday night on the cusp of a very exciting weekend. I will be spending time with my fabulous friends, draining every single last drop of summer fun from the next two days. And I am in a completely crustified mood.

I am really focusing on being more centered and authentic…but the talons of cuckoo still slash at me and sting like a mother f-er. Can’t control…self doubt…second guesses…not enough…gah!

So to unwind after a very hectic week and a weird end of day, I am eating fresh raspberries and spending some time reading some fabulous bloggers…and I stumble across this. Exactly what I needed to read right now. Thank you universe!

So with that bit of snuggle from the universe, I am off to see some great bands play with my soul sista tonight, girls’ cottage weekend tomorrow and Sunday, and just a whole lot to be grateful for!

Wishing you a wonder-filled weekend!

Dogs wearing wigs make me laugh.

Hugs and kisses and wishes of a wonderful weekend!

What a beautiful city! I love the French! Honestly, I am so embarrassed with my lack of French language skills, I thought the francophones would mock me mercilessly…instead they are just lovely and welcoming.

Je suis profond dans la pensée, and not sure what better place I could be in to be profond dans la pensée.

This past Sunday, I was fortunate to attend the launch of my dear friend, Kimberley Moore’s, first book, a children’s book called Lucy and the Light Bulb.

Let me make this clear: I am a supah-fan of children’s books, and DO NOT think that they should be limited to children…especially because, if you consider the illustrations, they are awfully close to comic books, which are definately not limited to the consumption of children. Some of my favourite night time reads are by authors Blume, Silverstein and Munsch. Holy tangent…

This book is very heartwarming and I am so so proud of my fabulous author friend. It is a story about a sad young woman who encounters a little girl, full of life and light, on a city bus. The child’s candid and sweet approach to the ensuing conversation effects the young woman’s outlook. Touched by a child’s wisdom, who can’t relate? 

I encourage you to buy it here.

I love this project! Found this over at Sparkletopia today, and it is very timely. I have been feeling pretty un-brave lately, uncertain of myself as I blaze brand new ground…I forgot that action taken to propel yourself forward is brave in itself.

With that said, I have been very work-brave and emotional-brave lately, so I picked a new brave to be today. I bought new sneakers and started running. It was fun, running along the beach, singing a little song when it got tough, and paying attention to the surroundings.

I wonder what kind of brave I will be tomorrow? And I wonder how many times I can use the word “brave” in a single post…

That is all.

…monkey humper.