Oliver

How do you deal with the loss of something that has been in your life for 17 years?

I had to say goodbye to my wonderful cat Oliver on December 6th, 2016 at 9:00pm. The rational person in me recognizes that he is "just a cat", but humans aren't always rational and my heart is absolutely broken.

My mom brought Oliver home at the end of Grade 7; a year end gift. His personality was evident from the beginning. He loved to cuddle and was always meowing. Always. When he wanted outside,
when he wanted inside, when he wanted food, when he wanted to be held, when he wanted to be let down, when it was cold, when it was warm, when the temperature was perfect, when he was going to jump on the counter, when he was going to jump off the counter, and, my favourite, he wailed at me when I sang... I don't think he like it at all. It was when he stopped meowing at me that I knew he must be sick.

Seventeen years is a long time to have something in your life. For four years of his life, Oliver lived with my parents (two when I lived in an apartment that charged for pets and two when I lived in Toronto). Right now, those four years seem like a waste - time I could have had more cuddles, more nose boops, more meowing.

Oliver has been with me through great times, laughing, enjoying life, puzzled by my robust love of cooking (and why he couldn't eat what I was making), and my swearing at video games and enjoying
the company when I shared my home with family and friends.

He's also been there through bad times. He was always there with a snuggle and purring when I was upset. He provided solace when my grand-aunt died and I needed a hug and some love. He was also there trough my most ridiculous crying session (like when I had to get my car fixed or when a book or show twinged my heart just right). Oliver didn't judge my quick to cry nature. He was just there.

So it's hard when I feel this heartbroken to not have the companion I have always relied on for love and care.

It comes in waves. I'll be fine and then I'll remember something small. Something so ridiculous that
sets me off.

What hurts the most is that I'll never cuddle him again. that last cuddle came the night of Friday, December 2nd. I'll never hear him meow to welcome me home after work. That last meow came the afternoon of Thursday, December 1st. I now regret every time I didn't let him sleep with
me at night.

In the coming days, I'll remember all the little things fondly. I'll be thankful that I held him one last time and he purred. I'll be thankful that when the vet technician picked him up he meowed. These little memories will  fill me with nostalgia and my heart will fill with love. But right now, all that's left of him is a reminder that he'll never be there again. Two bags of cat food that he'll never eat. A litter box that I still have to empty. A half full water dish in my bathroom to stop him from drinking from the toilet. Empty, echoing halls that will never be full of his meows again. He used to annoy the hell out of me every morning whining for food or a cuddle. Now I would give anything for that sound and annoyance again.

I didn't know what to expect when I told the vet I was ready to let him go. I knew he'd fall asleep first, so I held him. Kissed his head. Told him I loved him. I didn't know how quick it would be. He was there and then he wasn't. I think what broke me is that his head, unsupported by life, was heavier than I ever thought it would be. I'll never forget the weight of his head in my hand.

I love him so much and the rational person in me understands that it was his time and he was suffering in life. But humans aren't always rational and I am heartbroken.

What's With All the Fruit?

With 15 minutes left of today, my writing challenge is simple this evening. What if a fruit I dislike and why?

I'm giving two answers. The first is bananas. Don't get me wrong; I'll eat 'em. They're good for you. But I don't enjoy them. They're a food eaten out of necessity or lack of time to eat something else.

The second is Starfruit. They try to be all exotic and everything, but at the end of the day, they're basically bland attempts to be like watermelon and apples at the same time, failing miserably.

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This post is a part of my 30 Days of Writing Challenge. In an attempt to make writing a habit, I'm challenging myself to writing something everyday for 30 days. Inspired by countless posts I've seen on Pinterest, I've chosen a random list of 30 writing prompts that I'm going to use. Hope you stick around for the month of January to see what I write next!

Halifax or Bust

It is so easy to talk about the place I've visited that I would love to live. Nice, France. Berlin, Germany. Cardiff, Wales. Dublin, Ireland. If they weren't so expensive, I would consider Paris, France or even London, England, so long as I didn't have to drive anywhere. What's more difficult is to try and figure out a place I would live that I've never visited. How do you assess a place that you've never been to? Never walked the streets of? Don't know what the night life is like - if there are decent farmers' markets and brunch places? Accessible gyms? Good schools? Safe neighbourhoods? It's not an easy concept to grasp. But after some thinking, I have to go with a boring answer.

I would live in Halifax, Nova Scotia even though I've never been there. Why?

There a whole narrative around the east coast lifestyle that I definitely buy into, whether it's true or not. Easy-going, friendly, family oriented, hard-working, and fun. I've only heard wonderful things about the city from friends who have gone to school there and family that have lived there.

Like Edmonton, it's a government town, home to the province's provincial assembly and public service, so there would be some familiarity and job possibilities. It's also home to some great political history on the founding of my country.

If you've ever seen photos of the city, you can't deny there is some beauty. It's on the ocean, it's got an Atlantic feel. As I said yesterday, I like winter and the province is definitely known for its winters.

And then there's just the, "je ne sais quois," factor. There's just something about Halifax that I've always loved. I've always been drawn to it. I don't know if it's a desire to be a Maritimer, or if it was just that Halifax was an exotic city on an ocean, on the opposite end of the country from me.

So as boring as it may be to some of you, Halifax is a city I would live in, sight unseen.

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This post is a part of my 30 Day Writing Challenge. In an attempt to make writing a habit, I'm challenging myself to writing something everyday for 30 days. Inspired by countless posts I've seen on Pinterest, I've chosen a random list of 30 writing prompts that I'm going to use. Hope you stick around for the month of January to see what I write next!

Am I Random?

Random is defined as, "odd, unusual, or unexpected." I've asked this question of many an online match on a dating site I was on and now it's time for me to answer it: Tell me 10 random things about yourself. The more random the better!

1. A good portion of my education was paid for by raising cows.
I grew up on a farm and every spring, a cow would inevitably abandon a calf, and my brother and I would take care of it. The money from the sale of that calf would go towards our education.

2. I'm terrified of cows.
I know this doesn't really compute with my first random things, but it's true. In Grade 9, sick with strep throat, on a freezing cold day in February, I had to help my dad and brother bed down a cow that had calved very early. It was -28C, Dad was in the tractor, my brother was helping direct him and the bale of straw he was trying to set down, and I was standing at the open gate to the corral to keep the cow from getting out. Our dog, Zoey, decided it was a good idea to run underneath the tractor, so I was jumping up and down trying to get Dad's attention. I didn't, but I did get the cow's attention, who thought I was trying to harm her calf. She chased me all through the corral, me moving in between impossibly small spaces in between bales, hoping to stop her. It didn't stop her and eventually, I thought to run towards my brother, the actual thought in my head being, "if she doesn't stop for him, at least he'll be between me and the cow." I looked back, seeing I was free, and was finally able to jump on top of a bale. Terrified, now crying, with an incredibly sore throat being ravaged from running and the cold air, I looked up to the cab of the tractor to see my dad killing himself laughing at my troubles. I did not think it was so funny, and uttered my first swear in front of him screaming as I walked back towards the house, "I f**king hate that cow!!" I've been afraid of them ever since.

3. I have a twin brother.
And we're best friends! I was the best woman at his wedding.

4. If I could live anywhere in the world, it would be Nice, France.
After I graduated from my Masters program, my friend and I went on a tour of Europe. After six long, exciting, packed full days in Paris, we took a night train to Nice. After we disembarked and dropped our bags off at the hostel, we wandered down to one of the beautiful stone beaches, plopped down and let out contented sighs. We ended up staying for three days instead of the planned two. It was a great city. Beautiful, accessible, friendly people, great flower and farmers' market. I loved it. I'm trying to plan a Fall trip back there this year. I love it.

5.  I would rather sing or speak in front of 1,000 people than 1.

6. My favourite season is Winter.
I like the cold. I like the snow. I like the clear, crisp, blue prairies skies that stretch out endlessly during the season. I like the Northern Lights. I like that the sun goes down early and rises late. I just like Winter.

7. I almost became a nurse instead of a policy wonk.
I applied and accepted admission to Grant MacEwan College (which is now a university), for their nursing program when I graduate from high school. Then I reassessed my life and what my family calls my raging hypochondria, and decided a career in the medical field was probably not for me.

8. I collect moose things.

9. My favourite Shakespeare play, and favourite play period, is Hamlet.
The Importance of Being Earnest follows as a close second.

10. When I was a kid, I wanted to be Celine Dion.
I sang her all the time. My mom got sick of all of her music because I listened to it over and over and over.

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This post is a part of my 30 Days of Writing Challenge. In an attempt to make writing a habit, I'm challenging myself to writing something everyday for 30 days. Inspired by countless posts I've seen on Pinterest, I've chosen a random list of 30 writing prompts that I'm going to use. Hope you stick around for the month of January to see what I write next!

At Seventeen...

My first real kiss (past the cutesy junior high pecks that's we're all familiar with) was when I was 17 or 18 years old. A decade on with my life since that point, the exact day and time is fuzzy, but I remember how that kiss made me feel. It was maybe the most beautiful I've ever felt in my life. Regardless of how my relationship ended with the guy I kissed (by relationship, I mean interactions, because my acquaintance with him lasted maybe two weeks), I'll never forget it.

I was at a friend's party. I'd never met this guy before that night. He was there with his older brother and from the moment he spoke to me, I felt like I was the only girl in the entire world. He was attentive, funny, interesting, and, though my mother would disappointed to hear it, he was a bit of a bad boy with a piercing in his chin and he smoked.

Later on in the night, I was sitting on the back porch with this guy and his brother just chatting while they both shared a smoke. He was wearing a Trapper Hat; the old Elmer Fudd style hat, red plaid pattern and all. Being 17, my flirting consisted on giggling at everything he said and stealing his hat to model it for him. I grabbed it off his head, plunked it down on my own and sent him a coy little grin. Words I'll remember until I die:

"You look beautiful, you know that."

It's a simple statement. It's not even a great pick-up line. But it was the first time any guy had ever told me I was beautiful. Me. Beautiful. Seventeen is an awful age to be a girl and for someone to think I was beautiful at that age was the world to me.

Later that night, cuddling on my friend's couch as we all tried to fall asleep, he gently lifted my chin up so I was face to face with him, and he kissed me. Deeply. It was amazing.

As I alluded to, it didn't end well with him. Looking back, he wasn't a great guy. He wasn't actually all that funny, really wasn't all that attentive, and definitely wasn't interesting. He was also a great big mooch and tried to get me to give him a pretty hefty amount of cash to help him get back to Ontario. Bad boys are not worth it. They never are. If you think you want a bad boy, set up some red, blaring alarms and walk away. They're never good news.

But now that I'm 28 years old, I can separate the experience from the whole story and recognize that that first, real kiss, was pretty magical for me, and a memory I'll cherish for my life.

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It didn't really occur to me until I sat down an wrote this how much this memory reminds me of one of my favourite Jann Arden songs (originally written and performed by Janis Ian). This post was originally titled, "Trapper Hats". But then I wrote it, and this title made more sense. I've included Ms. Arden's version of the song below for your listening pleasure.

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This post is a part of my 30 Days of Writing Challenge. In an attempt to make writing a habit, I'm challenging myself to writing something everyday for 30 days. Inspired by countless posts I've seen on Pinterest, I've chosen a random list of 30 writing prompts that I'm going to use. Hope you stick around for the month of January to see what I write next!

High Chairs and Cheerios

When I was about two and half, my parents built the first farmhouse I ever lived in. It was a grand, two-story home with an unfinished basement (that was never finished in the decade or so we lived there). I have vague memories of this place. I remember my walls were kind of purpley-blue, my parents had a deep green carpet in their bedroom, and there was a sitting room that the kids weren't really allowed in without adult supervision.

My first memory comes just as we were moving into our new home. For about a year we had been living in Calmar, just down the block from the school my dad was principal at. To ensure my parents could continue to work while my brother and I were young, they had hired a nanny. Lourdes was a wonderful woman of whom I have only fond memories. As my brother and I grew older and needed less round the clock care and supervision, Lourdes' time with us was scaled back, and eventually she moved on. My first memory is of Lourdes.

Once the farm house was finished my parents began moving furniture out to the new home. Two of the last bits of furniture to leave were my and my brother's high chairs.

A two-year old child, I remember sitting in that chair, my brother beside me in his, eating Cheerios out of a yellow, four handled plastic cup. Giggling at poor Lourdes who was squatting on the floor eating her lunch because there was no other furniture in the house. 

Mom doesn't remember this. She doesn't know why they would have left the high chairs to last nor why they would have left us to have lunch in an empty house. But I remember it like it was yesterday. Maybe it's not 100% accurate. Who knows what a two year old mind remembers?

What I do remember is feeling happy, safe, and content, giggling down at Lourdes, who, I remember, had a loving, caring, and joyful smile beaming back up at me.



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This post is a part of my 30 Days of Writing Challenge. In an attempt to make writing a habit, I'm challenging myself to writing something everyday for 30 days. Inspired by countless posts I've seen on Pinterest, I've chosen a random list of 30 writing prompts that I'm going to use. Hope you stick around for the month of January to see what I write next!

5 Problems With Social Media

Here's the thing; I'm generally a fan of my social media accounts. I use Facebook to stay in touch with friends and follow along on big and small life moments. I use Twitter to catch up on news and find interesting articles. Instagram and Vine are my go to platforms for my intake of artistic pursuits and comedic gems. Pinterest and Polyvore help me organize the glamorous life I wish I had. So when it comes to critiquing social media, I have to remind myself that I am still an avid consumer of social media products. That being said, it's not difficult to find 5 problems with it.

1. Success and Popularity

Likes and favourites don't actually equate to success or popularity and still we use them as a metric for these ideas. Alone, this may not be a huge problem, but when success and popularity are used so often to define happiness and self-worth, not having a like on your last post about finding the perfect chilled kale recipe (#blessed) can be devastating.

2. There are too many platforms.

I have had four different people explain SnapChat to me and I still have no idea what it is, what makes it special, and why I need it. That's true of so many social media platforms out there. Hell, my phone has no less than ten apps that are of a social media variety, taking up a ton of space on my phone. And I'm just a casual user of most. How do avid social media-ers find time to keep up to date and update on each?

3. It's freaking addictive.

Even as a casual user of social media I would say I spend at least and hour or so every day reading social media sites and apps and become disappointed when there aren't new posts to read or interact with after I've checked a site for the 10th time in a day.

4. Privacy

There is no privacy on social media. If you think there is, you're deluding yourself. And yet we all still insert daily updates on our lives, pictures of our families, friends, pets, children, wardrobe choices, restaurant habits, vacation destinations, hopes, and dreams. Free for companies, governments, friends, enemies, stalkers, and blind dates to sift through for information to use and exploit. But did you see this totally adorable picture of my cat?

5. It's ruining real life social interactions.

I remember being one of the last people to embrace texting in my friend group. I thought it was ridiculous to send a text when I could just pick up the phone and talk to someone. Even now, if a text is going to be really long or overly complicated, I just call. But now, I am sent requests to download Facebook Messenger almost daily from friends who use it rather than texting and I'm just sitting over here thinking, "I DONT WANT ANOTHER FRIGGIN APP ON MY PHONE WHEN I CAN JUST TEXT YOU!!"And with our heads continuously bowed over screens reading our social media sites, I don't remember the last time someone at a bus stop even smiled in my direction let alone comment on the weather or how late our damn bus is, again!


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This post is a part of my 30 Days of Writing Challenge. In an attempt to make writing a habit, I'm challenging myself to writing something everyday for 30 days. Inspired by countless posts I've seen on Pinterest, I've chosen a random list of 30 writing prompts that I'm going to use. Hope you stick around for the month of January to see what I write next!