Random Channel Surfing

A month ago, I was so overwhelmed that I felt like my life was falling apart. I was overwhelmed, frustrated, and feeling like I had managed to dig myself into several holes .  But that was last month. March--despite it being my birth month--was a complete dick. April seems to be takin' it easy on me, which is unsurprising because that's been a pattern for Aprils in the past. And I don't want to lie; I am feeling overwhelmed and rundown (still), but I've actually managed to accomplish quite a lot these last few weeks. In fact, I'd argue that 2018 has been non-stop list crossing--even in March. I mean, I've managed to secure a job, plan out future blog posts for my side blog ( Salty Fashionistas ), get published in a local rag ( !!! ), and plan some time in my day-to-day to write. I'm feelin' pretty good about myself right now. I said last month that I anticipated that my 32nd year of life would be easy-peasy since year 31 was full of so many back-to...

Ten years ago, I was in the middle of planning my temporary move to Montreal. I was both excited about the move and anxious about living away from my family and friends. It was exhilarating and I was very optimistic about the temporary relocation. When I talked to Nicolas (the guy whose lease I was taking over) on April 4, 2008, I didn't have a clue that I would undergo as much as I did when I lived in Montreal. It might not seem like a whole lot to an outsider, but Montreal living was my first real taste at complete solitude. It was the first time I took a bite out of life and understood what it meant to be an adult. It was also the first time I fell in real love. I've mentioned my past loves on this platform. From First Him through to Third Him, I have detailed how my love for these men shaped me into the woman I am today. Well this post isn't going to be about them. No. This post is going to be dedicated to that moment in time when I genuinely felt in love with mys...

I have been on the other side of 2017 for four months as of today. Four months in which I've met wonderful people, have become a part of interesting organizations, and even started new ventures. It's been interesting and wonderful and cripplingly terrifying all at once. Tomorrow I start a new job. One that I interviewed for and have kind of, sort of, maybe been dreaming of since I was in school. It's a writing job. An honest-to-goodness, pinch-me-I'm-dreaming writing job. Part of me is terrified at the prospect of starting this new job, but another part of me is sort of blasé. I mean, why get excited about this when I can't guarantee that it will go all right? It seems like this year's theme is: Just when things start going right, I hit a bump in the road and it all goes to shit. I can't trust things right now. Life is trying to teach me a lesson and I'm confused and unsure and I don't know which steps to take. One thing's for sure, though....

I have a hard time accepting things as they happen. I have a tendency of overthinking and analyzing and fantasizing and assuming that I know the way things will play out. I don't; no one does. But I am introspective and that tendency of being so self-reflective makes it hard for me to let things unfold as they must. I love to be in control and I love to anticipate how things will pan out. I need to prepare myself--mentally, emotionally, physically--for any and all outcomes. Blame it on my penchant for being hyper-focused on reigning in my emotions; blame it on my fear of change; blame it on any number of things. But if there's one thing I've learned since last March, it's that, even when you have an inkling of what's about to happen, when it happens, you have no fucking clue how to handle it. No matter how much you prepare and how many permutations of the scenario you anticipate, the reality still knocks you upside the head, leaving you dizzy and vulnerable....

At least that's according to Greg. I hadn't seen him since late June (he's been busy with his play and I've been busy with finding work), so we met up for dinner and wine at The Common this past week. It was, as it usually is with this insightful dude, a really wonderful evening. He's a few years older than me, so he's been through similar situations with life, work, love--the whole kit and caboodle. He usually "gets" me (which is very fucking important in all my relationships). So, we sat down, ordered our food and wine and I brought him up to speed on my life. I gushed about my upcoming trip, I lamented my exit from the boutique, I explained to him the steps I'm taking to make my freelance career an actuality, and I explained to him how anxious I've been feeling. And, after confiding in him about all the bad shit that's happening in my life, he looked me straight in the eye and said, "This is your rock bottom." A part of m...

Me: "Julis, I miss you." Julis: "You miss me? You should come live here." Maybe I should  leave Edmonton.

Years from now, when I realize how silly and petty some of the thoughts I have really are, I will realize how foolish and unnecessary the anxious feeling in the pit of my stomach really is. Because right now, this anxious, restless feeling that pervades my every thought is a constant critic and its white noise is set on a frequency I can pick up if I listen hard enough. It's telling me how stupid and foolish I am. It's reminding me of every embarrassing, shameful moment to date. It's making my life incredibly hard to enjoy. And, real talk: I don't think I've cried this much in ages. And part of me understands that this has to do with loss and grief and the fact I'm grieving the loss of the community of wonderful people I had at my old job. I didn't think making a career change would feel so... Confusing. I know I made the right choice; staying there would have meant not chasing my dreams or making an effort to change my life. When I realized that the o...

Tomorrow is my first day at a francophone temp agency. I never wanted to be without a job for this long, but I didn't want to apply for any longterm positions lest the job interfered with my plans to go to Guatemala. 'Cause this trip? Oh. It's happening. I'm going to fly out on November 7 and I won't be back until December 18. That's 41 days of exploration and (dare I say it?) self-reflection. Whenever I think about this trip, I'm overcome with happy feelings and thoughts. This just goes to show how much I've longed for travel these last months. I'm excited and jittery--in a good way!--and I'm curious to see what happens to my life. Will things feel more centred? Will I have a better sense of what I want out of life? Will I finally grow that spine I've been lacking since infancy? Because I can be brave when I have to be, but that's not my permanent state of being. When it comes to feeling vulnerable and raw, open and exposed, I need...

Ever since March, I keep getting this feeling that tells me I ought to be in Montreal. It feels genuine and serious. A premonition. And I will be honest and say that when the prospect of ending my job arose, I felt light and happy because something inside me thought, " Montreal ." Montreal is the dream, the ache, the lighthouse. It's been calling to me since 2008 and its siren call hasn't faded. In fact, it gets louder and louder with each passing day -- a fact that only terrifies me a little. Because... I could do it, you know. I could leave everything: family, friends, newfound dreams. I could leave it all behind and make a future for myself in Montreal. And there's nothing stopping me. Montréal. Je suis toujours amoureuse de toi. 

Things right now are difficult. I'm feeling really stressed out about my current work situation (or lack thereof...) and I'm really feeling overwhelmed by all the changes that are going on around me. I feel... unstable and unsure. Just... Super cranky and out of sorts. And I think that part of this difficulty stems from the fact I've been employed since I was 14. Not having a job feels weird. Like I'm doing something sneaky or unprofessional. It's a weird pressure to place myself under. Why doesn't my life come with an instruction manual?

I used to think I had good taste in men. After all, I usually fall for guys who are pleasant; earnest in every way. Good guys. (Not to be confused with Nice Guys™.) But upon deep reflection, I have realized that I have yet to meet a truly good man. (For me, that is.) That's not to say that my friends are not good men; hell no. In fact, I'm starting to realize that my male friends may be the only good men I know (apart from my own father). But whenever I meet a potential leading man, I idealize him and ignore the warning signs that point to him not being quite-the-good-man-I've-made-him-out-to-be. In actuality, things go this way: Step 1  I see attractive dude.  Step 2  I sputter when speaking to said attractive dude.  Step 3  I replay our conversation over and over and analyze it to death.  Step 4  I fantasize different scenarios involving said attractive dude.   Step 5  I see attractive dude again.   Step 6...

He was pretty fantastic. And that's not me putting him on a pedestal, really. I know I have the tendency of doing so (see: Hims 1 through 3), but I was actually pretty aware of my feelings and actions when it came to him. I say he was fantastic because he was inquisitive, and kind, and understanding, and honest, and considerate, and measured. He was great. Really great. The kind of great that reminds you of what you want in life; the kind of great that makes you impatient and impulsive and (dare I say) ready. He was the kind of guy I've written about in the past . I say "was" because, well, I think things have officially run their course. And while part of me is super sad that this is over before anything really happened, another part of me knew it was inevitable; the same sad ending to the same serial episodic tv series of my life. Heroine meets boy; they flirt; they date; it ends; end scene. And I hate that I didn't want it to end--if this was inevitable, wh...

March was kind of a bust, but it did reinforce one thing to me: I have the most supportive, loving, and kind-hearted people in my life. Thank you, family and friends. (I feel that I don't say it often enough.) Now that we're 10 days into April, I'm thinking that 2017 is kind of, sort of, maybe, possibly getting better. (I think.) It's not easy for me to ask for help, but you've all come through for me.  I know you guys don't follow this blog, but I hope you know that everything you've done for me has meant the world to me. I appreciate you all and I thank you for your love and understanding. Thank you.  #MotivationMonday  #IJustNeededAnExcuseToPostThisPictureOfAFlowerHeHe

My heart keeps fluttering. Gentle, soft, tiny little butterfly wings that are telling me something is amiss. Things are changing. I'm changing. So many changes and I don't know whether to celebrate or not. My heart keeps fluttering. It's unsettled, it's afraid, but I don't quite know why.

I have a hard time letting go. I especially have a hard time letting go of people. That's why my friend breakups are hard to accept. That's why I continue to like and obsess over men from my past even when I've moved on. That's why Hims one through three have entire tags dedicated to them. And I really have to accept that things happen the way they happen for a reason. It's not a bullshit reason; it's reality. And I really need to accept that.

(I think.) Like a ghost or a memory, he's popped back into my life and I'm feeling so unsettled by his reappearance. I don't know what to make of my emotions. My stomach is unsettled, my heart won't stop racing, my head spins. Part of me is elated to know that he is doing well; that he's back in the city; that he's going to school. Part of me is terrified that even though he's reemerged, nothing I do can control what will happen between us. He can still choose not to reciprocate; he can still choose to vamoose out of my life like he did so long ago. (Please don't disappear again.) And it's funny to me because now that he's back and that I want him (and only him) and have my blinders on and my eyes are zeroing in on him (and only him), it's raining men. Men who want me and want to spend time with me (and only me) and I want him (and only him). But, of course, he does not want me, back. My stomach is unsettled. My heart won't stop r...

Look, I know we're 16 days into 2017, but I really haven't felt like doing anything since forever ago. This year, though, I have to say that I feel like I want to make things happen. I want to see places and invest in my future. And it could be that the current political landscape is the reason; or maybe it's that there's an air of uncertainty and instability at my place of work (don't ask), but the fact remains: I'm optimistic about checking items off my list this year. Yay, me!

My beautiful best friend, my Jenn, has given birth. I still don't know the baby's name, weight, length, but I do know that I love him so fucking much already. I can't wait to see his tiny little face and I'm beside myself with joy for her and Dave. They're going to make terrific parents and the little cupcake is going to grow up to be a fabulous human.  I love this feeling! UPDATE: Baby's name is Sterling. I love it!

And while that is upsetting enough as it is, the most shameful part of it all is that someone who has no experience with politics, has no real policies, and has stoked flames of violence and hatred in his country is now the president elect. What's going to happen to people of colour, people with disabilities, people in the LGBTQIA community, and people from a religious minority? What's going to happen to people who don't have health insurance? What's going to happen to women who rely on reproductive health care? What's going to happen to our precious earth? Our resources are finite. And, right now, it feels like our love for one another is finite, too. I've been feeling so disheartened since Tuesday night. My heart feels so much despair and fear and that's not usual for me. This feeling of desolation and utter abandonment is foreign to me; I can usually find the happier side to things, the silver linings on the cloudiest of days, but this feels too bleak...

I'm always so frustrated with people who don’t have a real solution to problems. Like my friends who are against Clinton, for instance. They say neither Hillary nor Trump, but if you were to press them for a solution for not voting for either of them, I doubt they would know what to do. Eight years ago, I was hopeful and optimistic about Obama’s historic win. Tonight, before even knowing who the elected president is, I can’t muster any optimism. It’s terrifying and heartbreaking and I’m so nervous that regardless of who wins, there will be a shit storm like no other shit storm. The way people have behaved this electoral season has been shameful and upsetting and it’s made me legitimately fearful for my sister’s safety. The xenophobic fires that Donald Trump stoked will have a lasting effect on that country and if that doesn’t upset you, it obviously doesn’t affect you personally. I'm praying that Hillary wins tonight. I need her to win.