my (cottage) weekend in summary

I spent the weekend killing spiders on kelly’s behalf, and enjoying time away from the city. A mental break was much needed.
Street ‘art’ downtown; shopping… and me (they’re laugh lines, ok!?); family shots and family photos; I am woman, I build fire; kelly drinking coffee on the deck Saturday morning; the lake off the shore of my parent’s place; exploring the creatures of the lake; Kelly chopping for soup; our creations.
Friday: left work late, and rushed home to prepare to leave for the cottage. Packed, and picked up Kelly for the ride out to the cottage – on the way, we stopped at her brother and sister-in-law’s friend’s place, and had a couple of drinks with them. We then headed to the cottage, and stayed up until 3:30am talking, drinking wine, and eating chips and jellybeans.
Saturday: planned to wake up early, but instead got some sleep, before we ventured into town. Our plan was to go to the market to pick up fresh supplies to make a large batch of soup – but then we discovered the planet, where we got brunch. we then ventured to the market, where we picked up tons of fresh veggies, and some snacks, and flowers for kelly’s mom. We then headed to kelly’s mom’s for a going away party for her brother – he and his wife are heading to asia for three months, and they were throwing a party to say goodbye. Had TONS of great food, with kelly’s family, and some laughter at shots, and the fam. Loved getting to spend time with her family. We then headed back to the cottage, where we made dinner, and then watched wedding crashers, and starsky and hutch, while drinking wine, and talking about… well. Life. Built an amazing fire – after an adventure in the garage, and a girl with a broken back carrying firewood – and just enjoyed the quiet.
Sunday: woke up early, as Kelly had made coffee, and spent the day sitting on the dock in the sun, talking, examining lake creatures on lily pads, and eating. In the afternoon, we worked hard at making butternut squash and sweet potato soup with curry – made TONS, and had I for dinner, as well as made enough for us to both take tons home. plus some sweet potato fries for the freezer! We went for a long walk down the road – long, but slow, I should say (because of my back) – and explored the outdoors… as we both are farm/outdoor girls at heart. When we got back, we put on face masks, and read magazines all night to another fire (while watching the scores of the football games on my blackberry – so sue me). A great Sunday evening that we got to enjoy in its entirety, as we didn’t drive home until Monday morning to work.
Hope everyone had a fantastic weekend – fall is coming, and I love it!

to be courageous

have some courage. he said so.
i'm off to the cottage this weekend with kelly - planning on visiting the market, cooking up a storm in time for fall (food to be determined by our market finds - i imagine that this will equate to LOTS of butternut squash soup for my freezer... yummmm), and face masks and movies. and probably some lounging by the camp fire. and slippers. perfect fall cottage getaway.
have a good weekend all!

i've learned to cry

I didn’t know how to cry.
Throughout my life, various circumstances have been the mortar and bricks of my heart – leaving no room for feeling to seep in. as a result, I have been the cold one of my friends – the one who didn’t know how to share what I was feeling, didn’t know how to express her feelings for anyone (relationships or friendships), didn’t know how to talk about what made her mad, sad, happy, elated, upset. It was a bizarre twist on strength – in my mind, I had to hold onto every bit of strength I had, since in my childhood and adolescence, I had lost so much control over it to others, I wanted to salvage what was left of it, and display it to the world in the most obvious way I knew how. But by being the ‘tough’ girl, I was more than likely the most cowardice - Like bre’s post specifically on relationships/breakups, but more broadly, on the cowardice of not allowing ourselves to feel what is the reality of these ‘tough’ situations.
Then slowly, cracks appeared. Cracks that were the results of various things that were completely out of my control. Cracks that turned into caverns, that – much to my surprise – resulted in tears.
originally from weheartit.com/
I think it started when my boyfriend of almost 3 years and I started to end things. I moved out of my apartment, and I started needing to depend on people – to live on their couches. I couldn’t be alone in my most vulnerable times – like when him and I got into a fight about the future of ‘us’. the simple idea of not knowing where my next bed would be caused stress, that only compounded the vulnerability and sadness of everything else going on. Then, I dated. I dated mostly guys who I didn’t think much of, but then I dated a guy who made me feel whole. We spent 2 months together, and for the first time, I found myself saying to people, ‘I can’t believe I’m saying this, but I think he’s my perfect man’. I found myself excited about a future with him, and enjoyed spending every moment with him. And then, out of nowhere, he crushed my heart. Just a change of heart, or a lack of comfort in his own skin. That was a year ago. I (jamie type) cried every day for 6 months over the thought of losing perhaps the only person I would ever ever feel that way about. And I (jamie type) cried for being ashamed for crying. Throughout this, I dealt with multiple issues relating to my apartment – none of them at the fault of my landlords, but all of which required time and patience to correct. I had a slow falling out with a friend, that never really peaked, but as a result left so many things unanswered, and left me hurting in a way I didn’t know how to deal with. I dealt with my first true love leaving the country, and therefore putting a nail in the coffin of ‘us’ – though I knew it was over – and learning to be me again.
Throughout all this I was going through some very serious health testing – learning things about my health, and my subsequent future that was hard to take at any time during the year, let alone in a time when I was being battered emotionally from every other angle as well.
I had a birthday, that was a rough one.
Then, in November, as I’ve mentioned many times before, I hurt my back. In a split moment, I stood up, and what we originally thought was a ruptured disc, turned out to be shattered a vertebrae, another damaged vertebrae, a few slipped discs, and both hip flexors torn. I didn’t cry, but was in shock.
I’m not sure when it was that I just let go. When I finally said to myself, “that pain in your throat, that ache in your gut, that headache – you have to just let go, or that won’t go away”.
And I did. I had spent – at this point – a month on my couch, not only reeling in my physical pain, but having to confront my emotional pain about the heartbreak I had endured (and felt ashamed / embarrassed / ridiculous about). And I let go. 
originally from weheartit.com
I put in a movie that I knew would make me cry, skipped to a scene that I knew would start it going (ok fine – it was a sports movie, and it was probably a scene in which they won a championship, came together as a team, or did something equally emotional for me), and then just cried. I’m sure relative to most, it was a small cry. A few tears, without much of an outburst. But for me, it was enough. Enough to show myself that I would be ok to acknowledge my pain, and still be a strong person.
"Tears symbolize so much. A letting go, an accepting, but mostly feeling. Feeling is happening. How sad that I used to not allow feeling to happen, as if it was wrong. Tears are not wrong. Feeling is not wrong.” - your joyologist
i felt a sort of release - and to avoid sounding corny, i felt completion and closure, in a way that i never had before. and i felt it, despite letting something go - and in my factual, black and white mind, i couldn't compute how losing something could equate to gaining something. but i also realized that it didn't matter - that the logic i had been using to govern my life for so long, wasn't helping me any. it had brought me to a point of no return - and when i finally let go of that, i was able to actually sit in the middle of my life, and see everything around me like a planitarium... and when it was all placed around me like that, it made it a little easier to handle; a little more real; a little more painful, and yet a lot more manageable.
I say all this, not because I’ve come to some grand conclusion about what it means to cry, or about how big or strong of a person I am because I can now cry – not even to say I’ve learned how to cry, and do it all the time, and I’m so much better off because of it. I still rarely cry. I still find myself in situations where crying would be appropriate, and I simply can’t bring myself to do it. I still feel sometimes like a good cry would help, but I can’t find the place inside of me where most people would know how to access these tears.
I instead found that crying brought me to a place where I could accept feeling. I never did this before – thought that feeling made me weak; made me less of a person. But by crying – by being so deconstructed, to a point where I had nothing left but tears – I was able to rebuild what I wanted of myself… and through the crumbled concrete, I could let those small bits of emotional jamie (and trust me – they are small) shine through.
originally from weheartit.com
And most importantly, it showed me that it was ok to love. And with love, it was ok to hurt, trust, and be real. i don't refer to love in the relationship sense – though I’m sure that will come for me, as it does for most. It was the love for myself that came out of this most importantly. And as a result, the love for those around me, and how i could actually act on that love.
When I read this article in the New York times, I was smitten – and totally agreed. those emotions that emulsify often into tears - both good and bad - are worth it. the most brave thing to do is to feel, because it gives you small windows of time in which you can actually be human - and not simply a being, constructed of the same biological material as those who feel, but lacking those important parts.
"This is not to say that love is only about fighting. Love is about bottomless empathy, born out of the heart’s revelation that another person is every bit as real as you are. And this is why love, as I understand it, is always specific. Trying to love all of humanity may be a worthy endeavor, but, in a funny way, it keeps the focus on the self, on the self’s own moral or spiritual well-being. Whereas, to love a specific person, and to identify with his or her struggles and joys as if they were your own, you have to surrender some of yourself.
The big risk here, of course, is rejection. We can all handle being disliked now and then, because there’s such an infinitely big pool of potential likers. But to expose your whole self, not just the likable surface, and to have it rejected, can be catastrophically painful. The prospect of pain generally, the pain of loss, of breakup, of death, is what makes it so tempting to avoid love and stay safely in the world of liking.
And yet pain hurts but it doesn’t kill. When you consider the alternative — an anesthetized dream of self-sufficiency, abetted by technology — pain emerges as the natural product and natural indicator of being alive in a resistant world. To go through a life painlessly is to have not lived. Even just to say to yourself, “Oh, I’ll get to that love and pain stuff later, maybe in my 30s” is to consign yourself to 10 years of merely taking up space on the planet and burning up its resources. Of being (and I mean this in the most damning sense of the word) a consumer."

brooklyn brothers beat the best

Saw Brooklyn Brothers Beat the Best on Friday at TIFF. Got to see THE Andrew McCarthy.
(you’re welcome for the photo), THE Michael Weston (love him), shooter mcgavin (who cares what his real name is), and writer, director ryan o’nan…. Who was good. and cute. And… charming? Since I’m the TIFF goer who barely knows the name of a movie before she shows up, I was pretty pleased with the outcome. A few jokes that made me laugh out loud (though, as my friend said, seemed as though some of the humour went WAY over the heads of the audience – too bad… nothing like comedic timing from no namers).

the movie follows alex, who by the beginning of the movie, we learn has just been dumped (by a girlfriend, and a band mate), and has quit his job (slash... is fired? after throwing a water jug at fez - wilmer valderrama - and storming out of his realty job office). we do learn that he's actually pretty good at writing, singing, etc (all those things required of a good indie pop flick), but can't seem to catch a break. after an amazingly hilarious scene, in which we see him in a blood stained moose costume (or something else with antlers), engaging in a fantastic conversation with a 4 year old, he's accosted by perhaps the one person who has ever watched him play, jim (weston), and after a brief kidnapping (don't worry - he's taken to his own home), he's propositioned by Jim to join a (two person) band and engage in a cross country road trip to a battle of the bands (corny, right?). he learns that jim is a (in my opinion) musical 'genious' who lives with his grandfather, and plays children's instruments... or atari's connected to spell and speak's (in some cases). then some broad enters the picture - after an amazing exchange between jim and alex in their first attempt at getting into their first show - and follows them on their trip... sexual tension, blah blah blah... fall in love/like/lust, blah blah blah... whatever. once the love thing enters the scene, things get rough. insert andrew mccarthy's kid (o'nan's nephew), some awkward conversations about being a 'man', and i just wish that they had kept the humour up the whole way through.
michael weston seems to play generally the same character in most things he does… but it’s a character I love. So what do I care? Love him in last kiss – really…. Who am I kidding? I love everyone in last kiss.
zach braff, eric christian olsen, michael weston and casey affleck in last kiss
Eric Christian Olsen? Yes please.
I digress. Michael Weston was good – he’s that awkward, socially inept sidekick type, who is hilariously funny. Ryan O’Nan was funny… I was worried by his brooding at the beginning of the movie, but then again, I love laughing at other people’s misery. He did, however, pull off some kick ass comedy, and has amazing comedic timing… he also wrote most of the movie’s songs, and it's good. surprisingly good. good enough that there's going to be a soundtrack, AND they just got an extension record deal. badumching.
really made me want to travel the country… and maybe I should stop seeing movies like that, as it’s going to kick me into high gear to get into a car, busk for money (without any talent whatsoever), and enjoy the scenery.
The beginning had some amazing humour – jokes about stabbing kids who were ‘mentally incapacitated’ (don’t hate me because I appreciate black humour); a far-too-long to-not-be-awkward scene where Michael Weston plays the Atari (ish?); the comedic timing that Ryan and Michael had as band mates; hilarious vampire song writing; the list goes on. Unfortunately, as everyone knows, love stories turn me off. It got lovey dovey pretty quick at the end, and I was not impressed. A little sappy, and a little blasé.
Nevertheless I was pleasantly surprised (and not JUST because I didn’t even know the title going in). if you like love stories (or at least, don’t mind them), and like a bit of sick twisted humour with your musical instruments (and if you don’t, stop reading my blog)… then see it. It’s worth it.
and the relationship moral of the story/movie: *spoiler* don't forgive someone who goes on a road trip with you and your new band member, then steals all your money, and leaves after your first night of loving since the love of your life crushed your heart through a meat grinder. and does irresponsible things like climbing on your lap while you're driving, in an attempt to 'pay you back' (note: this is prostitution).