On Thursday, Alex and I decided to head to the newest sports bar in Bolton (Brooks) to have a little date night before his surgery. It’s amazing how comforting an evening out with your fiancé, a turkey club sandwich, and a delicious brownie can be.
When we got our bill I realized that our waitress hadn’t included the dessert on our bill. “Babe, this is a karmic moment – what if the outcome of your surgery depends on what we do in this moment!?” I nearly shouted. After almost seven years of being together, he’s used to my dramatic nature, so with a smile and a laugh he agreed.
We not only paid our bill but we made sure that we covered the cost of the dessert. When we let our waitress know about it she became flustered and confused, as they use iPads to take orders she had no idea where she had entered the desert. After a seemingly brief conversation with her manager, she walked back to our table with wet eyes and said that dessert was on them. We thanked her but didn’t change the amount of money we put in the bill folder (is that what it’s called?).
The next day at work, I decided that I needed a coffee break and went to Tim’s for a French Vanilla. Every time the weather gets cold I crave a French Vanilla. I paid for my drink and had to wait nearly fifteen minutes for it (which I didn’t really mind to be honest). Either I had my resting bitch-face on or the woman who served me is super nice because she gave me a few Tim Bits for free.
NOW THAT IS A KARMIC MOMENT GOING FULL CIRCLE.
My September held intense moments of laughter followed by streams of tears. I experienced beautifully tender days and evenings painted with fear. There were warm weekends in the country and star-filled nights in the city. There were cuddles with my nieces and sleepovers with my siblings. There was magic, hard work, and a million curiosities.
This September paved the way for sincere reflection and necessary prioritizing. It put everything into perspective and forced me to do things I never thought I’d have to do. To see things I never thought I’d have to see. To prepare for things I never thought I’d have to prepare for. As such, this September I learned an extensive amount:
- There are few constants in life; you can’t even count on regular bowel
- Life is fragile; even when you’re careful
- To be brave you must first feel fear
- Things can change at the drop of a hat; for better or worse
- Moments are meant to be experienced; not Instagrammed
- You can be both blissfully happy and terribly sad at the same time; embracing both emotions is important
- Love is everything; period
“Aprils have never meant much to me, autumns seem that season of beginning, spring.” ― Truman Capote, Breakfast at Tiffany’s
I love the stillness that comes with Fall. I love the silence. I love the idea that hibernation is in the forecast. After a crazy-busy-beautiful summer I am ready for a change of pace. I am yearning for cooler weather, warm sweaters, dark nail polish, and pumpkin-spiced everything. Call me crazy but Fall is my favourite season. It has potential, it radiates happiness with modest charm, and although I’m officially not in school anymore, it still has that air of change, growth, and excitement.
I’m looking forward to a Fall filled with new adventures, exploring different styles, and creating new goals. I’m looking forward to Thanksgiving, long drives surrounded by trees with leaves ignited by colour. I’m looking forward to cool evenings with my laptop on my lap, words floating around in my mind, and a hot cuppa tea nearby.
I’m looking forward to it all.
When my niece Isabelle was born, my heart filled with so much love I thought it was going to explode. Every time I saw my niece I’d fall even more in love — from her first smile, to her first giggle, to her first step, to her first word, I got to see it all. Izzy and I have a special bond one that I hope continues to grow as she gets older. To be honest, with Izzy in my life things seemed complete, I wasn’t sure I had enough room in my heart to love anyone else. But two years and twenty days later I was proved wrong.
This is Mia, my second niece. One look at her and it turns out that my heart can love even more. I’m excited to watch Mia grow up and see how similar or different she is from her big sister Izzy. Although I’d be just as happy with a nephew, I’m happy that Isabelle has a sister. Having an older sister is a gift, you have an automatic best friend, mentor, and protector. I’m two years and two months younger than my sister and without her in my life I don’t know who or what I would’ve become.
“Sister. She is your mirror, shining back at you with a world of possibilities. She is your witness, who sees you at your worst and best, and loves you anyway. She is your partner in crime, your midnight companion, someone who knows when you are smiling, even in the dark. She is your teacher, your defense attorney, your personal press agent, even your shrink. Some days, she’s the reason you wish you were an only child.”
― Barbara Alpert
I know I’m not the only writer who forgets why they put a pen to paper or tap letters on their keyboard. I can’t possibly be the only writer who forgets to get excited by the satisfaction of clicking the post to blog button. I can’t be the only one who goes through moments so tender and fragile that sharing them seems offensive to the beauty that is the privacy of one’s life.
It seems as though “I have a lot going on right now” doesn’t seem to encompass everything that is happening. There are so many precious moments that I’ve captured in the pages of my journal in hopes that they’ll appear real; sometimes the internet feels too much like fiction.
My Pen, My Voice goes on hiatus from time to time but always comes back with something new of offer. It comes back REVIVED. Sometimes it’s a new layout, other times it’s a new series, this time it’s a new logo, a new layout, AND a new sense of self. As intense as this year has been I can’t help but feel grateful for it. So many changes and challenges have torn me apart with the complex task of allowing me to find out who I really am. My twenties (so far) have been the most confusing and promising. Finally at twenty-six I understand and accept all that I am and what I have to offer.
I hope this newfound confidence and killer new logo will allow me to explore different kinds of writing while staying true to my voice.
Welcome to the new chapter of My Pen, My Voice.
P.S. Thank you to Victoria Stacey for the amazing new logo and for understanding EXACTLY what I was going for!
People who get married on major holidays, Fridays, or Sundays are the freaking worst! Or at least they were until I became one of them. Here’s the thing, in order to book a Saturday night at the hall we fell in love with, w need a minimum of 200 confirmed guests. You already know that our guest list is at a firm 150 people so a Friday or Sunday would be our only options. We chose a Friday that way our guests would at least have the Saturday off to recuperate.
The only issues I have with not getting married on a Saturday is the obvious fact that not everyone we invite will be able to make it. First of all, people WORK and I would never expect anyone to take the day off. Secondly even if they decided to come to dinner (which will begin promptly at 6:30) and skip the ceremony, it might be one heck of a hassle to try to make it on time. I know that I want an intimate wedding but with such a tight guest list I am still hoping that many of them will be able to celebrate our day.
In the end, we knew that getting married on a Friday wouldn’t be convenient for many people but for us, it works. If you’re planning your wedding and for financial/emotional/logistical reasons you decide to wed on an “unconventional” day, be prepared for a lot of eye-rolling, questions, comments, or RSVP’s with the unable to attend box checked off.
Long weekends in the summer are perfect for spending time in the sunshine, reading, and partying. This weekend we celebrated Isabelle’s second birthday and attended my aunt’s wedding. Both were lovely affairs filled with laughter, love, and drinks. I cannot believe that my niece is already two-years-old. She has such and incredibly demanding personality that oozes with charisma. She’s funny and loves to make people laugh. She obsesses over music, dancing, and movies. She enjoys my stories about Princess Isabelle and her best friend Waffles. Her smile is infectious, her memory incredible.
As I watched her interact with her cousins I saw how shy she really is, how much fun she has on her own and with others. I held her hand as we stepped into the the kiddy pool and wondered when she’d get to old (or too cool) to hold her Tia’s hand. I thought about how much she’s grown in a mere two years and couldn’t help but wonder who she will become. Then I snapped myself back to the present because she’s only two and time goes by too fast to keep thinking about the future.
“Summer was our best season: it was sleeping on the back screened porch in cots, or trying to sleep in the treehouse; summer was everything good to eat; it was a thousand colors in a parched landscape…”
― Harper Lee, To Kill a Mockingbird
Last Saturday I found myself melting in the stands of a stadium in Hamilton to watch the bronze metal men’s soccer game. It was my first work-outing and even though I didn’t entirely understand what was happening, I cheered when everyone else did and had a great time. The sweltering heat made me wonder why I decided to put on jeans that day but the fiancé’s mellow attitude and constant water/ice purchases got me through it. Side note: definitely nowhere hot for our honeymoon!!! We cannot take the heat!!
I received some feedback on my blog-to-book manuscript from a wonderful publishing company in the U.K. There’s loads of work to do to polish my manuscript but their kind words and useful criticism has me roaring with excitement to get it done! There’s no guarantee that they’ll publish it, in fact it’s insanely rare for publishing companies to take on new authors who don’t have an agent. BUT that doesn’t mean that it’ll never happen and if I want it to happen I MUST keep trying. According to Alex all I need is a real break, someone to take a chance on me. The hardest part about that is not giving up. My goal is to have it finished by the first week of September and send it back to them then. Might need some extra motivational words my friends!
“Writing isn’t about making money, getting famous, getting dates, getting laid, or making friends. In the end, it’s about enriching the lives of those who will read your work, and enriching your own life, as well. It’s about getting up, getting well, and getting over. Getting happy, okay? Getting happy.”
― Stephen King, On Writing: A Memoir of the Craft
This weekend is going to be a busy one between Izzy’s second birthday, my aunt’s wedding, and an adventure with Alex on Monday, but I cannot wait!! Remind me to get some blogging, manuscript editing, and reading in too 😉
Wishing you sunshine, love, and uninhibited dance-parties this long weekend!
I’ve dreaded the guest list from the moment I said yes. I never fantasized much about my wedding but I was always under the impression that I wanted a very intimate wedding (let’s say 50 or so people). The only major problem with that is not that I’m European and as such a big wedding is expected, it is that I have a huge family. My mother’s side is fifty-three people and that’s just immediate family; aunts. uncles, and cousins.
With my intimate wedding idea out the window, Alex and I had to pick a number that would work for us both financially and mentally (he wants a small wedding too). 50 people is far too little, 100 people isn’t quite enough, and 200 is more than we could imagine. 150. That would have to be the magic number.
Thankfully our parents are supportive of this and understand why we don’t feel the need to have a huge wedding. We want to be able to enjoy our wedding and to know the person behind every hand that we shake and every cheek that we kiss.
The trouble with any guest list is that there are always people who are going to be left out or offended. Alex and I had one golden rule for the guest list: do not invite anyone we don’t see at least once a year. This means that only family and the closest friends we have are going to be invited. As of right now we have 149 people on the list and we’re pretty happy about it. We refuse to budge on the number and although the names on the list might change slightly, the number will not. Who wants strangers at their wedding anyway? I don’t.
If there’s one thing I recommend when writing up your guest list, do it with your fiancé and then have your parents put in their opinion. At the end of the day it is your wedding.