Sunday Update: Moving Onward or Upward

"What's up with you lately?"

An innocent but loaded question as of late.

What am I doing right now? Watching the Vancouver-San Jose game.

What am I doing this week? Painting some walls. For the first time. Yep, you got it, this girl is getting her newly painted nails a little bit dirty. Well, hopefully not that dirty - white isn't my colour (and I don't think polish remover does much with paint).

What am I doing this month? Moving. A month ago, the Newf lost his job. A week later The Parentals advised they were looking to rent out their basement apartment. We made the executive decision to jump on the opportunity. Between our general dislike for the city of Toronto, and the ease of my transferring to a school in London it seemed like an obvious choice.

This move has been a humbling process, and I don't quite know how I feel about it yet. To secure my mind in the positive, I've decided to make a list of my pros and cons:

First, the pros:

1.) We will likely save a pretty penny on rent. Once the Parentals advise of the rental fee, I can confirm this, but it almost guaranteed the rent will be less than the cost of our studio apartment in the Toronto Beaches.

2.) I get to paint. Something about playing with colour gets me a little hot and bothered.

3.) Our place is a separate apartment, so theoretically the loss of privacy will be minimal.

4.) My younger brother, Jake, lives upstairs. At five years my junior he makes me feel young again.

5.) We really, really like the city of London. The tiny village I grew up in is a mere thirty minutes away, so I know what I'm getting myself into.

6.) It has a classy address. Sorry kids, I can't post it here, but I can assure you that I'm not living on a street that makes you do a double take. Nope, no Piccadilly Street for me; and yes, that superficial fact matters to me.

7.) I can (theoretically) transfer with ease to a photography program here in London. Once I get in, I will have 24/7 access to a full photography studio.

8.) My new apartment is complete with a wet bar. It has a beautiful polished wood bar that makes my liver tingle with excitement (my liver has always erred on the side of danger).

With this extensive list, let's look at the cons:

1.) We have to move. All of that cleaning, packing and unpacking is so much work. Once you include the address changes to that equation my eye starts to twitch.

2.) While it is a separate apartment with tons of potential, it is in the Parentals' basement. At twenty six (almost twenty seven) it is a humbling process. Not to mention a younger sister who is looking for apartments double my rent, and a little green monster is making a certain appearance.

3.) Despite the separate space, I am sharing the overall home with family. My family is cool, but they are still my family. Point made.

4.) My dog has suddenly turned into our dog. It isn't a matter that people are trying to lay claim to my furry friend, but more a fact that my family of dog lovers all have a different way of doing things. In my house, my dog is not allowed to sleep on the bed or sit on the couch. He is not fed from the table, even if he is really working the "I'm-sad-and-hungy" look. I keep tight restraints on his amount and type of exercise. Unfortunately, not everyone agrees and my carefully laid consistency has gone out the window. But, when your dog tops the scale at 140 pounds, can easily set his head on the table and has heartbreakingly bad elbow dysplasia we can talk. I'm going to have to let go a little bit, and I hate that.

5.) With its close proximity to my hometown, it is almost guaranteed that I will run into someone I know. Odds are, it will be a day I have not showered and am covered in paint.

6.) I have never painted. This could be a disaster.

7.) With my newfound geographical closeness to my immediate family I must begin to assert myself a little bit more. With anyone else a quick passive aggressive response would do, but I'm stuck with these people for life. The process is sure to ruffle some feathers, on both sides of the fence.

8.) It will be much more difficult to feign ignorance to all the nasty little tidbits of information I have on my siblings. Being the oldest of three, I tend to hear about everything the siblings do not have the guts to voice to the Parentals. Sometimes it is very rewarding. Right now it frustrating. Something about being expected to provide sympathy for a sibling who has provided the unabridged story six months ago is a little bit trying. I need to learn to walk away. I hate that too.

At first glance it may seem that this list is pretty even keeled. I may be crying over spilt milk. But, that is all resolved with the last listed pro. My new place has a wet bar. I have a pile of liquor and a hot husband. I have a brother who encourages intoxication.

Things will work themselves out. I can't say the same for the painting.

What are you working through right now?

Humbly at home,

L

The Cursing Ceiling

I'm fed up.

Wait, no, let me rephrase that. I'm fucking fed up.

Whew. That feels better. I've been told to speak my mind and today in this odd blogging world and I've been slightly nervous. The things I think aren't always becoming; they are thoughts that won't always make friends, but they usually influence people.

Today a good f-bomb was all that was needed to break that meek little mouse ceiling. Sometimes, if I don't say it, no one will. Don't say I didn't warn you.

What naughty little habit do you have to clear your cobwebs?

When something a little stronger is needed, and a stiff drink is unavailable, try throwing a phone book at the floor. A trick learned from my mother, it usually does the trick.

Happy hurling,

L

Awkwardly Amazing: My Dinner Date

Friday night I travelled to Peterborough for dinner and a night of trouble with an old friend.

It was an amazing and awkward night. We must do it again soon.

We began with a dinner date - hooking up on a cold cement sidewalk and searching for an establishment suitable enough for two girls to enjoy a delicious dinner. We needed something that offered an atmosphere entirely encouraging of comfortable banter.

We slid into our seats and dove into conversation. It has been well over a year since this girl and I had connected alone and without influence. It confirmed that we were still as friendly as ever, but also that we have grown older. Our conversation also concluded that while we had desperately spent the last two years denying our age and slowing the inevitable leave from a careless time, our life had done what lives do; they had moved on. New insecurities, new problems, and a new desire for a friend and female companion. We both wanted someone to spill to, someone who would appreciate our plight and tell us what to do.

That was awkward.

The social stops and starts, the little pauses between deciding a decision should be made and actually making it. The conversation, too excited and lopsided one sentence, pulled back, nervous, hesitant even, in the next.

There is something that occurs between two people, something that allows them to form a relationship and hold onto it though years of turmoil and triumph, but did we still have it?

This girl, Alena; she was front row and centre when I became me, complete and full fledged, and now that we don't see each other as much as we would like, we still have this innate ability to meet and pick up exactly where we left off. It's as if I just stepped out of the room for a minute and jumped right back in.

That was pretty amazing.

We met in my second year of university. My first year of studies had not gone as planned. Separated by over 4200 kilometres (almost 2500 miles) I missed my parents. Joined by my high school boyfriend I was miserable, and my studies had not engrossed my attention as I had hoped.

The daughter of my landlord upon my return to Ontario, little Alena and I became fast friends. We were together constantly, and alone often. Our studies gripped our passions and parties filled our weekends. When things happened the other was consulted. When down time was needed we would curl up on her bed and chill, together, for hours. Somehow we could read each other like a book - painful topics were avoided, alcohol was poured and silence prevailed when our minds rode heavily with contemplation.

She was the small, quiet girl who was scrappy to a tee. Always one to stay small and keep quiet Alena had a tendency of going along to get along. Oddly enough, she also had a way of getting what she wanted, no matter the cost. Everything was negotiated to a decent fee. It didn't happen very often, but it was brilliant to to watch when it did.

I, on the other hand, was the louder more domineering part of our pair. Always with a new idea and some neon accessory I stood out and wrote my essays the night before they were due. My employment experience swelled and I was always involved in the social circuit. I stood out and I stepped out.

But we were both there, watching, waiting and wondering. We encouraged when needed and agreed to keep our dirty laundry a secret - to my knowledge it still its in its smelly basket.

Our unsaid motto "you can do better than me, and I can be better than you;" defined us and propelled us forward until here we sat, across a pub table from each other. After years together, would a noticeable separation break us? Was the geography too much? Were we too different now, with husbands and fiances and careers to plan?

I popped the lemon garnish on my glass of water into the cold liquid, nervous for the waitress to bring my wine. The wine I had ordered certainly didn't match my dinner but it would taste good and go down easily. It was calm the nerves that were silently exploding under the pressure. Alena eyed up my water glass, and noticing her lemon sat still propped up on the rim, pushed it into the water swirling below.

Our glasses, and now our mindsets, matched.

After sleeping the night off on her couch I awoke at a comfortable nine thirty in the morning. Comfortable considering I had yet to befit the hour and a half drive home, but oh so early for a girl who didn't set down her glass until three thirty the night before.

Despite my lack of sleep and excess of alcohol, I awoke serene and comfortable. Her home smelled familiar and calm. It was cold and blowy outside but not enough to slow the Saturday morning traffic.

I stood to use the bathroom, just in time to hear the bathroom door shut and the invader begin to fumble with taps and toothbrushes.

It felt like home. It was where I was supposed to be.

I just love mornings like that.

Please Help: Answer a Difficult Question

Dear friends,

I have a mind melding favour to ask of you. At the moment I am working on a large project that will *hopefully* get me where I want to go.

This is completely of my own volition but I would like to ask for your wise opinion.

What vulnerabilities do you think children face today? What do you worry your children will have to face in the coming years?

It could be a single emotion, a thought or a specific experience. Maybe it is something you yourself suffered as a child, maybe it is something you have watched another child suffer. Whatever it is, I would like to know about it.

I am hoping to draw attention to the severe difficulties (emphasis on the Western world) our precious little people face. I am not a parent so your additional input would be an invaluable point of view.

My project will be disclosed in the end, but your attachment to any ideas will be kept completely confidential if you so request. Feel free to email me LinnieDeLuxe (at) gmail (dot) com, drop me a Tweet or a Facebook message. I'll be looking for your responses.

Please, parents, friends and people of all sorts, pass on your ideas. Children are such innocent creatures, waiting for instruction on how to live life. They are our most valuable resource and I want to know what makes you worry.

This is not an easy question but if you have an idea, it would be most appreciated.

Working hard to get where I want to go,

L

Boy Howdy: A Happy Creature

There has been enough of drab and dreary material lately, so today I have a complete smile creator.

It is no secret that the Newf and I have no children. It isn't that we don'twant any, it just hasn't felt right yet. That doesn't mean I don't fawn over adorable babies like any other clock-ticking clod.

In my Facebook stalking I found something that my friend created. With no other little ones in the extended family I have found my resident baby, if you will (I think everyone should have at least one). This little guy always puts a smile on my face:

I could eat him whole, just like he's killing these blueberries. They didn't have a hope.

My lady friend has told me that Mr. Emerson is a very happy baby. He eats just about anything his mom puts in front of him and is at seven months weighs just less than twenty-four pounds.

Folks, this little family just makes me happier than anything. They may not be clad in Gucci and driving a Mercedes but they are oh, so happy.

We should all wish to be so lucky.

Bubbling with berries,

L

Traditional Thursday: Let's get Down to Business

Happy Thursday to you, my darlings!

I have always felt Thursdays needed a little love and something different than routine.  Thursday, in my mind, is like the last minute of regulation time with Friday acting as overtime.  Nothing actually gets done on Friday unless it absolutely has to, or unless by some stroke of genius (or luck) things fall into place and you cannot help yourself in putting that puzzle together.

Well, my friends, Thursday has a better use than acting as Friday's understudy.  Thursday is that final day of routine and tradition.  Let us make our Thursdays together a quick minute of tradition with which to prepare for the roaring party which about to begin on Friday.  Even if your weekend plans consist of nothing but some greasy take-out, sweats and the most comfortable couch in the world, those plans deserve a tad of class.

Let us reinforce and encourage the need for sophistication on Thursdays.  Let us enjoy a "Traditional Thursday" every week.

This week I will begin with a quick and easy discussion of etiquette and manners.  Now please, do not let these words terrify you.  Do not let visions of Cruella-esque women draped in furs or thoughts of an awkwardly proper and suitably depressing, politician (a number come to mind) crowd your mind.  Please do not fear giving up your pleasant personality, for etiquette and manners are none of the above.

Etiquette is simply the customary code that people in polite society are expected to follow.  This means that etiquette can, and does, change wildly depending on whose company you are sharing.  

Manners are the actual interactions in which you get to show off your etiquette.  

Now folks, you don't need cash or a wad of bills to to be well-behaved.  You don't need a ton of bling or a sugar daddy to boost your behaviour.  Proper etiquette does not equal money.  Proper people have two concerns: ensuring those within their company are comfortable and ensuring that they, themselves are presented in a complimentary manner.  This kind of endeavour requires nothing more than personal class and a charming temperament.

There is a group of silly people who will wander around, spouting sentences about their better behaviour and making it seem as if they are polite, proper and just so much better than you.  They will point out their assumed points of refinements and brag about having brand names and things like "P. Diddy" scribed across their chest.  Well, do not listen to these ridiculous statements.  There is nothing more improper than blowing your own horn and making others feel poorly about themselves.  In fact, this is exactly the opposite of a well-behaved individual.

To those who take part in public self-gratification, I thumb my nose at you.  Take that, boys and girls.

There are no excuses here boys and girls.  You either are or you aren't.  The good news, is that you get to decide what side of the line you stand on.

As we enter into the weekend and you begin entertaining and socializing keep in mind those around you.  Are you in a funky mood?  Could you provide someone a friendly compliment or kind word?  Is there someone you could provide a chair too?

Think my friends, then act.  If you build this habit you will be remembered, remembered and full of class.

Fine and fabulous,

L

It's A Wicked Wednesday: Garnering a Nemesis

Over here in Linnie Land, I find pleasure in the oddest of places.  It keeps me happy (my booze budget just isn't there).  Today, on this Wicked Wednesday, a word on enjoying your nemesis.

I have an enemy and I love to hate her.  My skin crawls at her mention and yet, I cannot get enough of her.  She is my opposite in so many ways and yet I find her so incredibly intriguing, I just cannot get enough.  

Who is this girl, you ask?  Who is the evil soul who plagues my psyche?  She is unspeakable, she is my nemesis.

Everyone has a nemesis, they just don't like to admit it.  Very few have the ability to enjoy their nemesis but you can.

If you don't have a nemesis I suggest you find one, pronto.  Man or woman you need a nemesis.  People are defined by the food they eat, their friends and their nemesis.  If you don't have a nemesis what does that say about you (it says nothing and who wants to be nothing)?

The key is to properly appropriating a nemesis is to avoid becoming so wrapped up in your foe that you take it seriously.  It's not.  The last thing you want to be is deranged or the new stalker in town. 

To be a proper nemesis one must:

1.) Be an individual.  I know, I know, it would be so much easier to dislike the entire group but that is just too taxing a task.  There is enough hate in the world, use your nemesis as an outlet, not a hate-mongering business.

2.) Have done something that actually annoyed you.  It is no good to have a nemesis that has done nothing wrong.  They have to majorly drive you nuts, at least for part of the day.

3.) NOT have abhorrently insulted you.  Remember, this is for fun not business.  I am not in the business of creating hate.  We have true evil people to do that for us.

4.) Be visible in a public forum.  You have to keep up on what your nemesis is doing otherwise your love/hate relationship will bite the dust?  This must be done in a public forum otherwise you risk treading onto stalker territory.

5.) Actually have the ability to win.  It is no good to pick a fight you are guaranteed to win.  In fact, that is downright despicable and will never be supported by myself.  You need a challenge and people of proper society always fight a fair fight.

6.) Most importantly, be the beginning of your end.  Whether it be your image, your day, your graduation picture, your nemesis must be able to ruin you (or already have - even Britney had a comeback).  Take this statement however you would like.  I encourage out-of-the-box thinking.

In choosing your enemy show a little gumption.  Be creative.  I was once so angry with my younger brother, Yak, that he was my nemesis for the better part of a year.  His crime?  He "forgot" to reload the toilet tissue and I was left stranded in an isolated bathroom in the middle of my fabulous birthday party.  I spent close to thirty minutes with my skirt hitched up around my ears, my bum sore with its position on the porcelain throne.  I was unable to leave the bathroom for fear of a partygoer finding me bare-assed and rummaging for something to complete my dirty task.  Eventually I settled on a sailing magazine.  Those are thirty minutes (and a shred of dignity) that I will never get back.

So, you've got a nemesis lined up.  You despise them, they make you want to pull out your hair and pretty it up all at the same time.  What do you do with them?

First, a nemesis is an amazing scape goat.  If I have had a bad day the Newf can be sure he will be hearing about how my most-hated crossed me.  Sometimes we (especially women) need something to complain about.  You do not want to solve your problems (what does that accomplish), you just want to rant (much more satisfying).  Who better to rant about than the thorn in your side?

Eventually this gets old and you need a new, more meaningful purpose for your newfound enemy.  Think of this as the ultimate video game.  You aren't out to hurt your nemesis but instead, wish to cause them as much discomfort as you were once caused.  

This is why it is oh-so-important you do not take this notion out of control.  You would hate to truly cause someone pain.  What you do want is to win.  You want to overthrow your nemesis in the game you originally lost.  This way you can hold your head high knowing you have accomplished something truly worthwhile: a sense of achievement.  

In the aforementioned example of Yak and the missing toilet tissue, I waited and hated for almost twelve months until my opportunity came: his first steady girlfriend was coming over for Valentine's Day.  He had cooked her a fabulous meal of tacos (give the little man creativity points), spread rose petals over the table and was feverishly nervous.  That day, before I left, I removed any trace of milk or bread in the house.  The poor kid didn't know what had hit him, but I did: a whole whack of hot peppers.

It was a fair trade, well not quite, but that is why I WON.

Currently, my nemesis is a girl who I quite like.  I disagree with almost every opinion she has but that doesn't mean I don't like her!  She writes the first blog I ever read regularly and she inspired me to start my own writing (at a very difficult point of my life I might add).  Unfortunately we had a difference of opinion and we both walked away wounded.  I was a tad too blunt and she was a tad immature.  She slide into the nemesis position once she blocked me from all of her social media and continued to call me names.  She didn't even give our friendship a chance.  This hurt my feelings; I really wanted to be her friend. 

I am still able to read her blog (making her visible but keeping me from stalker status), but refrain from commenting.  A few battles have been won by my army but I grow weary.

Now, I am slated to be her enemy and we will have to wait an see which of us is victorious.  If we are lucky, and the battle is well waged, we will be equally triumphant.

By now, Blogger She-Nemesis, I would be honoured to call it a draw.

Solidly yours,

L

Apology Accepted (A How-To Guide)

Today was difficult.  Today, I messed up and had to pay the price; I had to apologize to The Parentals.  Now, I genuinely like and respect my parents so this made the task that much harder.

You see, it was harmless really, but it was hard.  

The Newf, The Beast and I were visiting my parents and my brother, Yak.  Yak is the only boy I know who can talk his way into a woman's arms while keeping a couple ladies waiting-in-the wings in case the first doesn't work out.  What is worse, the ladies love him for it. 

This weekend, Yak was charge of watching a dog which is well known to The Beast.  Yak was also out doing what he does best which is chat ladies up over a pint or two.  As a result, the bitch under Yak's charge was left unattended and woke up my parents at 3 A.M.

Not a big deal you say, I wasn't responsible for the dog.  Well, my parents, robed and still feeling the anger of lifting of slumber, attempted to deposit the dog with my (missing) brother.  Instead they found me in the backyard; they found me doing something I definitely should not have been doing.  Ouch.

To make matters worse, my parents were roused because this dog was attempting to wake The Beast for a midnight romp.

Yep, you've got it.  The Beast is such a frigging stud that his bitch-friend woke my parents who, in turn, caught me with my pants down.

The only rebound I had was to bite the bullet and admit defeat.

I hate apologizing, especially when you really mean it.  I feel small, sheepish and vulnerable admitting I am wrong.  Apparently the sentiment is not limited to me, which is why everyone has abandoned the practice.  This removes the initial pain, but you still look like a boob.  

I did the crime, I have to do the time.  

An apology is required any time your actions have caused a negative impact on another.  What needs to be decided, immediately, is whether this apology is sincere.  This decision needs to be made in the privacy of your own mind and is never to be discussing in proper conversation.  

Not every apology is sincere but please try to make the majority of your apologies meaningful.  Understand that there is a difference in making an apology you mean and apologizing for the sake of merit and saving face.

If you are in the position where you must apologize and you do not mean it, there is a way to include a subtle insult to ensure that not only does your image remain intact but your nemesis will regret crossing you. 

Here is the How-To Guide to Sincere Apologies:

1.) Your apology must be free from pre tense or deceit, you must genuinely want to express your regret.  This means the apology cannot be part and parcel to an ulterior motive. 

2.) Eye contact - just as in public speaking, eye contact attaches you to your audience.  Even if it is for a fleeting moment, connect with the person to whom you are expressing regret.

3.) Acknowledge your fault.  Whether it was intentional does not matter.  I didn't mean to miss the fact the dog was shattering the atmosphere of the sleeping.   Nothing elaborate, but an "I'm sorry the dog woke you, I should have been watching Dumpster Dog" resonates a lot more than a simple, "I'm sorry".    This also avoids the possibility of misinterpretation - am I sorry The Beast is hotter than hot, am I sorry I was caught without my pants or am I sorry my negligence woke The Parentals?  This way you acknowledge the grievance and make it completely clear which fault you regret.  I would never apologize for my dirty little act or the hot Beast as I enjoy both and they alone committed no offence.

4.) Take responsibility for your actions.  Do NOT blame someone or something else; do not provide an explanation.  It just doesn't matter - what does matter is that you are truly sorry for you actions and it will not happen again.

5.) If you really bungled something up, say, you accidentally ran over the dog that ruined your night, send a handwritten note directly AFTER the apology.  Please, PLEASE, complete the initial apology in person.  You may have messed up, but you are not a coward - face this head on.

What have you had to apologize for lately?  Was it sincere?

Sheepishly yours,

L