the Cheryl Munroe Show

what if God was one of us

2010-04-16T04:31:00.000-07:00

God, does he exist? Jesus, was he real? I just want some answers - I want to believe. I'm like a 5-year old child when it comes to this topic.

I grew up Catholic, but don't necessarily practice my religion anymore. In fact, I find it interesting that many people my age no longer go to church until they have children. Why is so important to go to church then, but it's not as relevant when you're single and typically have more time.

I had a conversation last week with friends about faith and our beliefs. Someone in the group said, "I have to say, when I die if there is no Jesus then I'm going to be pissed". My thought? That has got to be on a T-shirt!

In all seriousness, I believe in a higher power. What that means, I'm not so sure. My biggest issue with "God" was further elevated this week when I watched this news clip. If someone can logically answer for me why God has worked so hard to find this missing 11-year old, but he somehow misses so many more? Why does God save some good people, but seems to forget a whole bunch of great people?

Some days, I can't help but wonder if He and Santa Clause are not-so-distant cousins.

(please God, don't hit me by a car for saying this).

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close your eyes

2010-03-30T18:30:00.000-07:00

Today.

Technically, it's all we have.

This one moment right now.

But if you had one wish that could expand beyond this one moment and last a lifetime - what would it be? An exciting yet overwhelming thought, huh?

This past week I talked to two important people in my life (one of which was my GF, Nancy). The two separate conversations were about other people that were and are in their life. We talked about these two separate people (one young and one old) and how the two of these individuals felt about the last days of life. Both had a fear of being alone in the end.

Today, I'm surrounded by so much love. I'm very lucky that way. And, at the risk of sounding a bit morbid, if it were to end today - thankfully, I'd hardly be alone in the process. But if I live to be 102, my wish is that my friends, their families and my own family is always there by my side. More importantly, I hope my lovelies think exactly the same way my friend Nancy does about her nan. She is in the process of moving her nan into a old-folks home and when I told her she was a good woman for doing so, she replied, "That woman has done so much for my life, that I plan on making sure hers ends with the same love, joy and dignity that she's given me".

May I be as lucky in the end as both Nancy and her nan.

For you? I'd say, just close your eyes and make a wish...

heaven on earth

2010-03-25T15:59:00.000-07:00

“Dead Woman’s Pass” is the highest point on the Inca Trail. It's peak is just hovering above 14,000 feet. As you might be able to see in this picture, the pass is named for the shape of the mountain, which looks like the silhouette of a reclining woman. C'mon, see the nipple? I sat on that nipple!

The peak of Mount Everest is 29,000 feet. So the highest point that I've reached on this planet, was half that of what George Mallory and Andy Irvine reached (by all accounts) in 1924.

Did you hear me? 1924. They did this 86 years ago, so you can imagine that they didn't have gortex, dry-fit or MEC. They did have one key piece of apparel - an oxygen tank. And as someone that has experienced 14,000 feet above sea level - it took many baby steps, several breaks leaning on a walking stick and many, many coca leaves. So an oxygen tank was key to their success.

Last night, I finished reading Paths of Glory by Jeffery Archer. Dad bought me the book for Christmas. It's a tale about the life of George Mallory and his passion to be the first person to reach the top of Mount Everest. I will say this, the first 75% of the book was a bit of a bore. The 25% that I was interested in was at the end, and I'm sure it was the reason dad bought me the book in the first place - the part where you hear the tales about Mallory's attempts to reach the peak of the tallest mountain in the world. Simply humbling.

The thing about a place in time is that at the core, we're all the same. Over time not much changes when it comes to personal passion, wants, desires, needs and dreams. The one thing that does change over time are the tools and technology to enhance our path to glory (if we so choose glory as our destination). And while climbers of Everest today still have the same incredible challenge as Mallory did in 1924. It's leaders like Mallory that are most admirable - they achieve what we can today with so much less to aid them along the way. I realized when closing the book for the final time last night that when it comes to pushing our mental and physical boundaries (hiking, running, climbing, biking, etc) no amount of technology or new-age thinking changes our path. We still have to climb on our own.

judge judy

2010-03-20T18:59:00.001-07:00

I had to take the subway about 5 days ago. Something I haven't done in a long time. And while I appreciate all that public transit brings to a big city, I don't miss it. The crowded standing-room-only space, grasping on to germ-infested handles that dangle from the ceiling. We sway back and forth to the motion of rocket on the tracks and we have no choice but to all stare directly at each other. We assume each others life story and we judge.

I work really hard not to judge people, it's been a conscious effort ever since I read one of Deepak Chopra's books about 8 years ago (before he ever became the zen-guru that he is today). We all do it. We look and in an instant, we judge.

When I got off at my stop, just outside the turn stalls, standing in the narrow, tiled hallway there was a young man. He was (I assumed) homeless, playing his harmonica for big bucks. And next to him: his dog. In an instant it pissed me off. I felt angry at him; empathic for the dog. I thought, Christ if you struggle to feed yourself how the hell are you going to feed that poor dog. I was pissed and it effected me in a very real way. As I made my way out on to the street I realized that I judged his situation in a instant. But something made me think about what Dawson brings to my life. And I was sure it was the exact same thing that dog brings to his owner. And I can only hope that the young man gives the same thing back to his dog. Real, pure love and companionship. Then I thought, while it may not be fair to Daws, if I lost everything in my life - I know one thing for sure, I would want her by my side.

Unconditional love is priceless. It beats all things material.

I'd like to thank that broken man and his shaggy best friend for reminding me of that this week.

making my way to revolutionary road

2010-03-15T16:25:00.000-07:00

I have a lot of amazing women in my life. And I'm convinced that you do too.

They've given birth, some of them even multiple times, and this alone deserves applause in my mind. In addition to that, they're working hard at a career, being fit, youthful and beautiful. They try so hard to be a good wife and more importantly, a good mother. And if their family is lucky, they're master chefs too.

But do you know what I heard this week in research conducted at my office? There is no proof that women today are happier than those miserable housewives of the 1950s. Jesus Christ - all that effort for self improvement, and for what?

Ladies, the more I think about it, the bitches of the 50s got it right. Afternoon cocktails, cigarillos and lounging around watching the tube with a delightful buzz, while Ward is at the office and the Beav is in school.

I say we start a revolution - let's get back to our roots.

y'all come back now, ya hear?

2010-03-09T18:29:00.000-08:00

Yikes, you know it's been a long time since you've blogged when you can't remember your login name. And no, that's not the excuse why I haven't been here in ooohhhhhh... almost 2 weeks. That said, you're not really beating down my blog-door for more riveting snippets about my life. Which leads me to my next point: my blog is reaching the one-year mark and www.cherylmunroe.com has been about ME and my point of view on the simple preciousness of life. It was created as an adventure to learn more about the online space and the topic I chose was one that hopefully would make you all stop and appreciate time and tiny moments (via my lens on life). And luckily for me, you've come a few times (or many) to join in that conversation.

Lately I've been thinking that when I hit the one year mark on here that I call it quits. On the flip side, I've also had some pretty crafty ideas how I turn this experience from ME to WE in a very charitable-pay-it-forward kind of way. I think the Olympics was proof positive of the importance of unity, peace and togetherness. So how can we as mere peons keep that momentum going?

I don't claim this is new thinking on my part. In fact, I just heard this past week that there are only 6 ideas in the world? And, as someone that has spent the majority of their career in advertising, I also am familiar with the ole expression, "no idea is a new idea". But what is important is being an active participant to keep those big ideas moving along. That's where we come in.

I'm sure Facebook (since it's inception) has proven to you that your own friend network can expand globally in minutes. And, if you're like me, you've also had moments thinking, "heeeey, I didn't know she knew him and he knew her!" So, I think it's time I use my little selfish experiment for something good. Taking my desire to learn about the online space as a self-promoting tool and combining it with my long desire to find a charity very close to my heart.

Tonight, I did a little old school networking - meeting a friend of a friend live and in person. This persons positive and passionate energy re-ignited this fire within me. Our conversation lead us to re-enacting a quick history and timeline of our careers, which only makes you realize just how fast it goes by when you can explain 13 years in 13 minutes. It made me realize that there is no reason the next 13 years can't be just as exciting, fun and full of ideas. The hard part is making them come to life.

I've been humbled by your comments and flattered by your words. One year in and it's time for a change. One that I hope you'll take part in. Stay tuned.

the 500-metre workout

2010-02-28T11:59:00.000-08:00

I was once told that it's easy to love someone when they're at their best but the true test of love is when you love someone at their worst.

On a similar note, when you're in love - you LOVE love. When you're not in love - people in love are annoying.

Well, in love or not, this clip will undeniably make you smile and feel so incredibly warm all over. This was not only my favourite moment in the Olympics (yes, even the giant beavers and mounties came behind this), but it's one of my favourite moments of TV; of sport; in life.

when you're this big, they'll call you Mister.

2010-02-26T19:45:00.000-08:00

I was thinking about sending a note to my friend’s dad tonight. Although she’s one of my close friends, I’ve met her later in life and as a result, never met her dad. The reason for sending the note? Well, that part doesn't really matter. What does matter is what went through my mind as I started to draft the note, I wondered: do I address him by his first name or do I call him Mister?

I was raised to be polite, courteous, appreciative and respectful. It's still ingrained in me today. But now that I too am an adult (and also a peer of my friends' parents), do I still address 'them' with a title versus their name? Weird. So, I tried to imagine that I was the recipient of such an email. If someone called me Ms., Miss., or hell, even Mrs. - I think I'd vomit. There's no doubt that it would make me feel ancient.

I'm not sure if it is because life zips by for all of us and none of us can truly face our actual age, but all of a sudden it seems like we time warp from the two hoods - child to adult. I'm personally convinced that I'm a child locked inside an adult body (ugh, and an adult face). Most days, it is definitely difficult to play the part of a full-blown adult. That's why I relish (yes, I said relish) in all the simple pleasures of being an adult. I waited 20 years of my life to reach this point, so goddammit I'm going to enjoy it.

I get excited about staying in hotels and breaking into the mini-bar without parental permission. I love standing in front of the fridge with the door open, for more than a minute if I like - simply because I can. I'll drink out of the carton of milk - yup, no cups. I love long road trips alone in the car with my dog because I can play the music loud and it's my playlist. I love having a drink "on the rocks". I adore booking a flight and going somewhere far because I can do it all by myself or with my lovely friends. In my mind, all of these things are the small rewards for being 'grown-up'. They bring giddy-fun to my life (and believe me this is just 20% of the complete list).

So, while I am happy being this big now, just keep in mind that if you're thinking about sending me a note, please address me by my first name.

10:30am

2010-02-25T19:12:00.000-08:00

Recess. Do you remember it? Honestly, do you remember anything else that made you feel so good as a kid? Fifteen minutes of freedom in the middle of the morning - to skip, run, swing, tobbaggan. A moment to break free and go crazy before being civil again.

My old boss (and friend) Paul, owner of Extreme Group told me that his interactive agency brought recess back to adult life. A few minutes of unbridled insanity. A break from clients, work, stress. I loved the idea - pure, fresh and fun. I miss recess.

So, when I tried to think of the last time I felt like it was recess in my adult-life was when I captured this moment in a mere photograph.

Summer. Outdoors. Sunshine. Def Leppard. Poison. A BFF. Beer. Smiles. Stupidness.

Let's all bring back recess. Get your petition started today.

defending the net of a nation

2010-02-19T04:53:00.000-08:00

It's Olympic fever in Canada and I have to say it does feel completely different when they are hosted in your country. Although Vancouver is a 5 hour plan ride away from here, during this past week it just feels a heart beat away.

I've always loved hockey and as a Canadian, although a bit cliche, it is embedded in our veins. Especially coming from a small town - we play on streets, ponds, rinks and backyards. In my late teens and early twenties, I made the transition from a fan to "punk bunny". During those years, I never discriminated against what position a guy played, but I've always had a greater appreciation for the goalie. My dad was a goalie. My brother was a goalie. Simply put, goalie's are crazy. And who doesn't love a little crazy in their life? Last night in the game between Switzerland and Canada, Jonis Hiller and Marty Brodeur reminded me just how insane it is to be in that position. After an intense game and 5-minute overtime, Canadians sat down (or stood up) to watch 10 hockey players move aggressively from centre ice to fire a puck directly at Hiller, then Brodeur. It was one player, one goalie, one puck and entire nation watching...every move. All for one small moment in time that could change many things in the history books. All I could think of during the shoot-out was what is going through the mind of the goalies. How they must have tremendous focus to block out all the noise and pressure around them. All in the name of making their country proud. Just another reminder that one second in time can change everything. A bit dramatic in this case? Maybe. But I'm a Canadian Cliche after all.

(Canada 3, Switzerland 2).

bottle it + sell it = gagillionaire

2010-02-15T19:38:00.000-08:00

We just spent the last week in Mexico.

My gawd reality can suck in comparison.

Mexico was like a magic eraser of time, hangovers and sleep deprivation. Those things are simply non-existent there. You couldn't sleep in past 8:30am, you couldn't get a hangover no matter how hard you tried, your skin felt oh so good and time stood still. I need to figure out why this shit can't happen here.

My favourite day above all was spent in Playa del Carmen. I think the "time lapse" photography says it all.

stop, look and listen

2010-02-03T04:24:00.000-08:00

In the last few weeks, some startling things have happened around me. Things that make you stop and ask the ever popular question, "why?". Three instances in particular that happened around me that occurred out of the blue and in one simple second. A sudden death, an unexpected heart attack and a sports injury that resulted in a wheel chair for life.

These things hit you hard. Your first reaction is to feel sad, even a little depressed. But, I'm not sure if it's selfish, but they also make you more appreciative. Appreciative of your short time here on earth, of your loved ones and for all the little tiny life moments (and seconds) that accumulate to one big incredible experience.

This past week, I saw a status on Facebook that said, "....is amazed at how quickly happy thoughts fade. Man it takes work to be happy, I mean really happy." That one comment didn't just make me sad for that person, it actually kind of pissed me off. I couldn't disagree more. What I do think takes a lot of work is being miserable. Being happy is the easiest thing any of us can be - simply look around at the beauty. Plain, simple beauty.

It's these big, heart-hitting moments that make me stop and make me thankful for life.

sit. stay.

2010-01-29T05:15:00.000-08:00

I've always felt that commitment is not for the faint of heart.

On my morning walk with Daws (my dog, in case you haven't been following), I stopped into my local coffee shop. In doing so, I had to tie up the old girl to the fence outside. Now, depending on her mood, she sometimes waits patiently - other times not so much. When I came out she was waiting and watching me. I was holding my steamy, giant coffee in one hand, so I had to untie her leash with my lone right hand. I looked at her and told her to stay put while she was free of her leash. She sat there looking pretty all the while working on her jedi-mind trick - staring over her left shoulder at the crusty, dry pizza crust left on the curb. I realized in that moment that the younger-version of Dawson would have never, ever stayed still for me, waiting so well behaved. Especially while being taunted by her favourite thing in the whole wide world: food.

Some people think it's a bit morbid that I spend more time lately thinking about the limited time we have left together. She's definitely on the downward slope in life (but she still can keep up on a run like she is a pup). But, in that cold, crisp moment this morning it was then that I realized what Dawson has taught me about commitment.

Patience and mutual respect.

Because the two of us have shared these feeling with and between each other for twelve long years, I can honestly say she's a better dog now than she ever was before. I mean this dog was nothing short of insane and disobedient for 50% of her life. But in many moments lately, like the time together this morning, I realized it took a dog to prove to me that it ain't such a bad thing to sit and stay.

I was born in a small town.

2010-01-25T15:49:00.001-08:00

Ever have one of those days where you're going about your usual routine and you stop and kind of realize where you're at in life? I mean, not so much literally, but more like wondering how you arrived to this particular place in your life. To me, those moments are like little grateful awakenings - having the ability to be very present and alive.

The Wentworth Park Gazebo, Sydney NS

It happened to me on Saturday morning. I was driving to a hair appointment, coffee in hand and it was a beautiful sunshiny January day. And for some reason it hit me. "I live in Toronto". "I've lived in Toronto for 7.5 years". These moments may appear pretty meaningless and cheesy to you, but for me they make me take notice of life. Then, I enjoy it more. Living in a city the size of Toronto makes me realize how far I've come from a life that doesn't seem so long ago. Growing up in a town of 20,000 people and living in a city of 2.5 million makes you appreciate what great qualities both have to offer and how it's best left that the two never merge. I like them even more for their own unique packages.

This was further reinforced for me this past weekend when I read my friend Gustavo's blog. It was about his recent trip home to Brazil for Christmas and of his awareness of a life left behind. It's true, absence definitely makes the heart grow fonder...even if the absence comes in the form of subconciseness of your everyday surroundings.

Gabarus, Nova Scotia

time keeps on slippin' into the future

2010-01-20T16:29:00.000-08:00

Work has been nothing short of insane lately. I don't know when it happened but all of a sudden I find my days zipping by. Meetings start and 8:30am and end at 5pm - no lunch, no breathing room. My agency days weren't even like this!

On my way in to work this morning...or wait, was it yesterday morning?...I was listening to CBC and they were talking about it being the one year anniversary of Barack Obama's inauguration. I felt sick. For real? Has it been a full year and if so, how is that possible? As much as I try to live in the moment, I'm not sure what else I can do to make it slow down. Other than bottle it - I already write about it, enjoy it, live it and have it tattoo'd on my arm for christsake.

Maybe the person driving in front of me tonight said it best with their bumper sticker: Wag More. Bark Less.

act your age, not your shoe size

2010-01-13T17:01:00.000-08:00

Anyone ever tell you that when you were a kid? "Act your age, not your shoe size!" And, have you ever heard someone say, "I wish he'd act more like his age?" Well I've heard it, been told it and I ask you this - what the hell does it mean?

Last week, when my friend Todd told me that I'm right on the cusp of not being able to wear my arm warmers (you heard me) or shop at H&M anymore all I could think was, you bastard.

Listen, I get it. There's an entirely massive group of people out there that have no self perception or concept of time. Some people are stuck in a generation, living in a memorable moment. The mullet is living proof.

To be honest, I was pretty happy when the '80s came back in a big way over the last two years - even if I couldn't pull it off anymore. But all that said, do we really have to 'act' our age? And if I do, I'm not sure what that entails. Book clubs? Nights at home watching sitcoms? Reading more? Well, I'm doing it. But that being the case, it looks like I'm acting 75, not 35. So I'm still not acting my gawd-damn age. (So, to you my sweet arm warmers, I love you...even when I know I could just wear a sweater instead)

I guess my age-heros in life are the ones that defy every age-norm. It simply comes down to confidence, loving life in your skin, comprehension of a moment in time and oh, self-awareness (that's the hardest part).

oops, we did it again

2010-01-07T16:48:00.000-08:00

thanks to the new holiday uni-bomber, we've gone from hiding our tweezers and facial cream to now going to full body x-rays. Boy, is everyone up in cahoots over this or what? The amusing part to me is people are worried about violation of their personal security? Pah-lease, that's the least of our worries - do you people know about the world wide web? Your personal security has already been bent over and taken for a ride.

If you ask me, what's really devastating is the news that airport security is going to be "trained" to look for "odd, suspicious or unusual behaviour". Are you kidding me? In the run of the day I probably run into more than handful of people than exhibit this behaviour. And I'd like to think they don't have a plan to take us or the entire United States of America down in a single swoop (sweet jesus, at least I hope they don't).

Without a doubt, this is going to go from ugly to down-right nasty. These security agents, in my opinion, are everyday folk with training. Hells, we all get training in our respective careers (if we're lucky). But let's face it, learning a new admin process or software program is a helluva lot different than determining whether a person is considered likely to commit a particular type of crime or an illegal act based on "predictable" manner.

So what I'm having a difficult time dealing with is distinguishing the difference between judging someone and profiling them?

bells will ring; the sun will shine

2010-01-05T17:07:00.000-08:00

It was 9 months ago that I wrote this little blog entry. Like I said back then, a shit load of stuff can, would and did happen. Now it's just T-minus 4 weeks and counting until Jennie and Dave's Wedding in MEXICO!!!

I've actually never been to a beach wedding before. Odd, considering that a) I almost took the plunge myself many, many moons ago down in this exact location and b) the destination wedding has, let's face it, become quite the popular gig. So, with one solid month to go...the idea of being in the sun in the sand with 50-60 friends and loved ones celebrating J&D makes me want to lose my mind with happiness. Not to mention, my BFF is the wedding photographer, so I get to booze it up with him and his amazing wife for a whole week in the sun and sand.

Jennie and Dave, like I said to you almost a year ago...don't wish these 4 weeks away, have fun and enjoy the build-up. It's the second best part, after the big event of course. So have many giddy moments until I see your ass in Mexico on Feb 6! xo

the writing is on the wall

2010-01-03T16:32:00.000-08:00

Well, here we are...the year two thousand and ten. Crrrrrazy. Especially when I used to think the song "Party like it's 1999" by Prince was a futurist, Jetsons-like, imaginary place in time. It seemed as though 1999 was light years away.

For the last number of years, I have never started off the year with a single resolution. Instead, I set goals. I pick 5 goals in the areas of Love, Friendships, Education, Finance and Fitness. I set difficult, but achievable goals for each area and I re-evaluate them mid-year. This is something I look forward to each January. Because it's good to look back on the previous year and see how you've improved as a person. You then have something to show for how you got yourself to the next level.

This year, I feel like I need to completely re-assess these five areas and this time set all of them with a theme. The theme being "time". And the reason? Well I hate to sound superstitious, cheesy, fateful or that I'm practicing the Secret but there are a few too many signs pointing to the importance of time. Obviously, my tattoo and this blog were the beginning of this journey in 2009, but once I decided to consciously live each day and week in the moment many great things happened to me in the areas of love, friendship, fitness, finance and education.

1) For Christmas, my mom got me this book. Seeing a book with the subtitle "turning back your biological clock" at the age of 35 kinda takes your breath away, but I'm pretty excited to hammer through it. After reading the first chapter, I'm going to re-look at my goals with the lens of turning back the clock in the area of Health and Fitness.

2) Ten years ago, I rang in Y2K with many friends and one "special friend". That night ten years ago was nothing short of a gong show, many people were there - it was our version of sex, drugs and rock'n roll. My "special friend" and I parted ways later that year after sharing many life-changing experiences. As a parting gift he left me with a coffee table quote book...and highlighted a specific quote for both of us, "there is always time to start over again" and here we are exactly 10 years later starting over again. I have to say (speaking from experience) in pioneering this quote, starting over again can be even better than starting, period.

The essence of that quote will be applied this year in the areas of Love, Education and Finance.

3) I don't have Much Music or MTV, so I hardly see music videos anymore. Come to think of it, I really miss the days of visually great stories via music videos.

I ended up having a small quiet moment over the holidays, and as I was flipping through channels I came across the Top 100 Videos of the Decade. And I happened to catch Gwen Stefani's video "What you waiting for?" Her lyrics represent everything I've been trying to express this past year, right here in this tiny space. Taking chances and that life is too short. For many reasons, it's worth taking 7 minutes out of your day to watch this - for the art direction, the imagination, the irony and the all-around hotness.

Listen, I'm not trying to be a preacherman here, I'm just saying that while the TV, emails, radio and the www are yelling at you to set a new years resolution, remind yourself that living life is about being in the moment, unselfishly. You don't have to start today or even this month. Do it when you're ready, but ask yourself honestly, what are you waiting for?

here for a good time, not a long time

2009-12-24T05:14:00.000-08:00

I defy you (dog lovers or not) to watch this documentary and not bawl your face off. My friend Liam sent it to me last night and in his email, he didn't say a word, he didn't preempt the video, nor did he tell me how it impacted him...mostly because he'd know what it meant to me (and him) to have the privilege of watching this video.

If you thought Marley and Me was moving, you ain't seen nothing yet. You can see in Oden's sweet face just how special he was to all those around him. It's further proof that a dog is way more than a dog. There is good reason that humans bring these furry creatures into our home and why we forgive them when they destroy our valuables. They are like wee angels on earth - they can rehabilitate people in hospitals and they can lead the blind to their destination. When treated with love and respect, they will return the same ten-fold.

One of the things I'm most excited about for the next 10 days off, is not only sharing it with the people I love...but seeing how happy my sweet Daws will be when she is surrounded 24/7 with love and hugs from her family. As I'm packing the car, she's already excited about the fun and love ahead and I'm glad she's my companion on the road and in life.

Last Minutes with ODEN from phos pictures on Vimeo.

in a land far, far away

2009-12-22T19:28:00.000-08:00

OK, if you're on Facebook, Twitter or if you have a TV, you know everyone is talking about the movie Avatar. I won't go on and on about how incredible it is, even though it's true - it really is. And aside from the mind-blowing special effects, I personally loved the story line and connection I felt to the planet Pandora. It brought me back to my time spent in Peru. It reminded me of the land and the intense colours. It also reminded me of the people that lived there - they have nothing by way of material goods, but what they do have is richer - their great love and appreciation of the land and mother earth.

Oh, yes - the irony in producing a multi-million dollar, technically advanced movie - all to tell us a tale that we should love more beautifully, appreciate with more intensity and to get back to what's really important. The last time I saw something that personally impactful about people and their land was this....

fa la la la la la la la la

2009-12-20T19:00:00.000-08:00

It's Sunday. 10pm. After a day of shopping, wrapping presents, cooking, transferring old files to my new computer and working out - I just ended the day with an awesome night walk with Daws.

There isn't a drop of snow on the ground here in Toronto. And after a long snowy winter last year, I'm loving the procrastination of a winter snow delivery this year. It's crisp outside, but not cold. I was bundled up in my long puffy white coat, while Daws walked along side of me proudly holding her leash in her mouth. I love this time of year - when you can walk through your neighbourhood and peer into all the homes that are so beautifully decorated inside and out. I love the warmth that comes from inside a home at Christmas time - when you can see the trees decorated, candles lit and people hanging around in the kitchen. In re-reading that last comment, it would appear that I'm watching this from behind a hidden bush in the front yard. But, on the contrary - all the curtains are pulled back and you can feel the warmth from within pouring out on to the street for others to enjoy. And, to reflect.

As you know, most of my musings around 'time' are typically centred around war, historic events (big and small), technology and religion. And while the existence of God or 'a God' is a big mystery to me I started to think about 'him' tonight and that he really is (wait for it...)... the reason for the season. I wondered if he had some way of knowing life would rapidly change around us - therefore, he would ensure that Christmas would be the one constant, powerful event that makes us appreciative, more humble, giving, more loving, more empathic and all around grateful. Although it is the birth day of Christ, was it also a mastermind event to help make us stop? Stop and reflect. Especially when all other 350+days of the year we act like crazy, selfish and often destructive bastards.

Yes, it's true - this all this went through my mind simply walking my dog tonight.

If appreciation and reflection was his reason for creating Christmas, I'd say he did a damn good job. And if that wasn't his intention, then the answer is definitely PMS. Because I was also in Hallmark today crying in the aisle reading Christmas cards for mom and dad.

Full Speed Ahead

2009-12-19T13:19:00.000-08:00

There was a time in my life when I would wish away time. There were moments where I would want to see where it was going, how I was going to get there and perhaps, even how it would all end. I remember being in a long distance relationship and just wondering if we'd end up together in the same city, just so it would make the time apart bearable. There was a time in university when I would mark huge black x's through each day counting down to the end of the school year. There would be those Sunday's during marathon training where I would have to clock 29km and the entire time thinking about the bath, food and beer at the end.

Then along came the switch. The shift in my thinking that came with age and it seemed to really come on strong the last few weeks. I'd catch myself in moments trying to plan ahead for exciting events to come - from travel to birthdays to time with old friends. Let's face it, you know you do it too. But my wish of a magic crystal ball never did come my way, instead my wave of fairy dust fell upon me one day when last week when I realized I was so happy that I actually didn't wish for anything in my future anymore. I want to stay put, right here. Today.

I'll be home with bells on

2009-12-13T20:25:00.000-08:00

My favourite Christmas memories always have the Kenny and Dolly album playing in the background. Whether it was drinking a rum and eggnog with dad while he was putting another log on the fire. Or wrapping presents while mom was continuously cooking in the kitchen. No matter what, Kenny and Dolly were there.

But tonight, at a low-key 'family' dinner, the music playing in the background was Charlie Brown's Christmas. A must for all this season and one that I'm most certainly adding to my collection.

You should too. Seriously - how can this not get you in the spirit of happiness?

show me the way

2009-12-11T16:15:00.000-08:00

In an ever-changing world, it’s pretty key to determine very early in life how you’re going to adapt. I think we can, in the most basic terms, be divided into two groups – those that thrive on change and those that want to vomit at the thought of it. I definitely fall in the first group, much of which I owe credit to my flavorful Gemini personality.

But last night I was reminded that our adaption in life also has another key component. I had a conversation with my old boss and there was a point in our discussion where he said (in a very jovial way) that I owe him for my current success. Given that he gave me a foot-in-the-door opportunity, I wholeheartedly agreed with him. Listen, I fully understand that my life success is due not only to the way I’ve maneuvered through change, but it's also in huge part owed to what I'd like to call my ‘Gateway Keepers’.

Gateway Keepers enable our journey through life. You know who these people are. They are the ones that facilitate a new introduction – perhaps the teach you a new hobby, bring forth a new friendship for you, get you into new sport or put you in front of a new job opportunity. I can rhyme off approximately eight very important Gateway Keepers in my life that not only enabled a change, but also have also significantly changed my life. One of them in particular I've always held in the highest regard. The one that I’ve often expressed in the past as my guardian angel. The one that introduced me to running at a time in my life ten years ago when I desperately needed a healthy addition to my life for physical, spiritual and mental reasons. Now looking back, the timing was crucial. Years after our encounter, I often sent him notes thanking him for the support and bringing the sport of running into my life. It was this one Gateway Keeper in particular that said to me, “I had nothing to do with it really, because you had to find it within you to accept this new challenge and want it. More importantly, you had to find it within you everyday to push yourself to find the strength and positivity to keep going. That's all you”.

I’ve never forgotten that comment, because while the Gateway Keeper helps you to see something new and positive, it’s really up to us to accept the change, the challenge and make the best of every moment in front of us...until the next Gateway Keeper comes along.

Talking 'bout my generation

2009-12-01T16:04:00.000-08:00

I realized that I have a love/hate relationship with my generation. I don't even know what group I belong to - Gen X? Y? Z? And I'm not sure what we'll be remembered for, although according to my girlfriend Kelly we might be classified as "The Assholian Era". I tend to agree.

What I love about 'us' is that we have kids later, we marry later, we don't let age-rules change the way we dress or act, we care about being fit and we've redefined what it looks like to be 40. We're all on facebook and when we're online we are engaged in conversation about how Rihanna and Jay-Z killed it on the the American Music Awards last week. We're youthful, we're fun and we're carefree.

But my detest for 'us' lies in the way we are way too instantaneous, we tend to avoid being educated on big life decisions. We pressure each other to keep up with the Joneses and don't know the consequences of our actions. I feel that we created our own mess with the state of this economy - we bought and bought until we couldn't buy no more. We wanted bigger and better and I think we took it all for granted. My dad has often told me that my generation can't wait for things to come, we want it all done now - from new home renos, flat screen TVs, to brand new caaaars!!!

I just pray that we all know how to learn from our mistakes. I hope that we can acknowledge when we're wrong and collectively be more self aware. The Christmas decorations around the office, the holiday music on the radio and working in retail have made me think about what our consumption levels will look like this year versus all other Christmas' in my generation's history. I hope we spend more time (with each other) and less money this season. Sure, we need to re-boost the economy but let's do it by giving to others, not to ourselves. I'm pretty sure we have enough.

insane in the membrane

2009-11-28T07:11:00.000-08:00

I believe it was Albert Einstein that once said 'insanity is the definition of doing the same action over and over and expecting a different result'. As I sit here this morning drinking a delicious Tearo coffee with two dogs at my feet, I’m thinking back on this past week feeling like it was a week of pure insanity. But that’s the blessing of a good Saturday morning - it can detach you from the week you just killed (or the week that just killed you). And I also 'get it', in so much that I can comprehend it’s also just one mere blip on the radar. So while I do understand my small insane week doesn't really impact anybody other than me, I've been thinking that our collective insanity goes way beyond a simple work week.

I’m in the midst of reading Loving Frank and just finished The Diary of Anne Frank. Both incredible stories in their own right. One is set in 1909, the other in 1944 and when you’re reading both you feel remarkably connected to the moment, the year and the mind of the main storyteller, Mamah and Anne (respectively). More importantly, both books feel like the setting could have been 2009 because the actions within both are happening in lives around me today.

In 1909, imaging a woman leaving her husband and kids to find a real love is astounding to me. I feel so close to Mamah's headspace because I too have often wondered the difference between sacrifice and selfishness. We all continue to try to search for a love within ourselves, or an even greater love beyond our own mind – but why? Why do so many of us never stop searching or wondering? Trying to choose between settling, society and selfishness - do these choices mean we end up sabotaging our own lives and those lives around us? And in fact living a repeat behaviour from 1909 to 2009.

There is a page in Anne Frank’s diary (pg 277 to be exact), and the first time I read it I felt the strongest lump in my throat. Not only because it’s incredibly poetic, written from the point of view of a 15-year girl on the insanity of war, but it felt like it could have been written today about the war we’ve been fighting for the last eight years. It's almost as though, nothing changes and overall, do we really get any further ahead? I've traveled to parts of the world where signs of war remain, and I stood there thinking "what would have changed in history if war didn’t have to be the outcome? Was it necessary?”. But in the very real and honest words of Anne Frank: "I don't believe that the big men, the politicians and the capitalists alone, are guilty of the war. Oh no, the little man is just as guilty, otherwise the peoples of the world would have risen in revolt long ago! There's in people simply an urge to destroy, an urge to kill, to murder and rage, until all mankind, without exception, undergoes a great change, wars will be waged, everything that has been built up, cultivated, and grown will be destroyed and disfigured, after which mankind will have to begin all over again."

If you think about it, although we evolve, we continue to repeat our actions, technology is added to our lives but at the core we are the all the same in so many ways. And how much really does change because we do re-enact war, love affairs and our actions. As the most intelligent species on the planet, kind of makes you wonder if we’re all just insane.

now I lay me down to sleep...

2009-11-18T17:18:00.000-08:00

From the ripe ole age of 9, I decided I wanted to be catholic. Little did I know the lifelong implications that would come with this decision. You see, my mom was catholic, but my dad, my brother and I were protestant. But in grade 3, way too many of my friends were catholic and I felt left out. So with the wave of a regilious magic wand, I became a catholic. And ever since that day, the guilt is ingrained within my veins.

I feel guilty if I'm blessed, guilty if I'm grateful, guilty if I have money, guilty when I feel healthy, guilty sometimes for just simply being happy. Luckily years ago, I've let go of the guilt that was associated with having sex out of wedlock...talk about freedom since the day I made that decision! It was almost becoming crippling. Until, I let it go.

This week I've decided to release more of this guilt. And while it feels good, it's also fearful worrying about when the lightening is going to strike. Life has been good to me, some years better than others. This is a good year. But it doesn't come for free. A lot of hard work, belief and faith goes into the things I want...sometimes I don't even realize how much. But I do think with so much grief and poverty in the world, it's hard to wonder why some of us have so many more 'blessings', while other good people hardly have one simple blessing in a lifetime. It seems unfair (hence, the guilt). But I also know this goes beyond my own little catholic bubble. I've had girlfriends that worried about having a second or third child because the first was so great that a curse would ensue by having more kids. But in our very short span of living, shouldn't we all want for more? And if we get it, shouldn't we share it? We're told at a very young age that we need to share with our others. So when we have good things like - healthy, money and wellness - share it with those that have less.

At this middle stage in life, it's time my guilt was replaced with giving.

Dawson's Annual Holiday Greeting Card

2009-11-12T17:28:00.000-08:00

It's that time of year again when I make my beloved pooch participate in ridiculous scenarios all in the spirit of winning "best Holiday greeting card" among all those that hit the fridge of my friends and family. Stiff competition, but we always win. Always. (c'mon, look at that face)

This year, I thought that given that I'm learning more about the digital landscape that I'd make it digital and interactive. But instead, I'm going to hold steadfast to my own brand, which means old skool Christmas cards - you know, the kind you get in the ole fashioned mailbox. I love writing letters, thank you cards and yes, Christmas cards.

That said, I want to make a donation to a really good cause this year. Dogtown and the SPCA came to mind. But then I thought...I want my hard-earned money to go directly to an animal. So that means Dawson and I need your help. If you know of a family pet (especially a dog) that's in need of good medical care and without insurance, then I'd like to donate and help that one animal get the care they need. So, know anyone? If so, post a comment here or email me at cherylmunroe@hotmail.com

Peace. On Earth.

summer of 69

2009-11-08T16:38:00.000-08:00

In 11 days, it will be my brother's 40th birthday.

From a very young age, I knew that 40 was a special birthday. Adults seemed to do crazy things like ordering 40 pink flamingos for the front lawn. And the birthday boy/girl used to get (really) drunk spending the next day feeling sorry for themselves (my mom included). Society ensures that we're well aware that 40 is old, or even worse...the ever-dreaded, "Middle-Aged" label.

But now that I'm among the elite adult group, many of my friends have turned 40 in the last year. And at 35, I'm happy to say that not one of them looked like the 40 I remember in my childhood. Sure, that's perspective playing a key role, after all I was looking up at those old adults from a 4ft frame solely thinking that pink flamingos and a hangover were all that I had to look forward to one day.

In the vast memory bank of my mind, time ebbs and flows, but is also rapid and flickering. It's hard to comprehend it's my big brother's turn to be 40 when just yesterday, my dad was 40 dealing with the tragic news that his parents were killed in a car accident. And my 15-yr old brother was devastated in the arms of my father, at the loss of his grandfather. Dad, although incredibly sad, seemed mature and stoic enough to deal with it. He was my dad after all; nothing short of a super hero from behind my 10-yr old eyes. Now seeing my brother turn 40 and also selfishly sitting five years away from that birthday myself, I now see that my dad was so young - dealing with the loss of his parents, while trying to be a parent himself. Without ever asking him, I'm sure he felt in that moment of not wanting to not be an adult-40, merely wanting to just give in to the significant loss in his life.

Middle-age, a perceived time to be negative and depressed about hitting the top of the hill. But, as you know, I'm not a big fan of society (in general terms), so to my big bro - I say just grab your crazy carpet now that you're about to make it over the hill, raise your arms in a V and slide down the other side with a smile on your face and the wind in your hair.

my adorable furry friend

2009-11-01T17:15:00.000-08:00

After a year of waiting, I went to see Where the Wild Things Are this past Friday night. I had full intentions of going to a friends' housewarming party, but after a brutal week I just needed to shut-it-down, put on some cozies and head to dark movie theatre. I was so excited. With a warm tea in hand, I sat in the back row wrapped in my puffy winter coat and kicked off my sneaks.

After spending a 100 minutes watching the relationship between Max and Carol, I felt like there were so many tender moments that reminded me of the bond I have with my sweet pooch, Dawson. Without giving away anything significant, when the two had to say goodbye to each other on a beautiful sunny shore I started to cry (and maybe even cried some more). Spike Jonze created something on screen that was an identical dream to the way I had always envisioned the moment when I have to let go and say goodbye to my furry friend.

When I was telling another sweet friend this story today, he looked at me and said, "but C., think about living a life where every single day you're 100% happy". And of course, that too made me cry. But only because of the raw honesty and truth to this sentiment.

So when the time comes, I'll remind myself of her smile and the way we definitely lived 100% - together.

the littlest hobo

2009-10-31T09:14:00.000-07:00

When I was out running errands this morning, I had to stop and get gas. As I was standing there holding the nozzle, I realized I was staring at the CN Tower - kind of numb, in a moment of solitude. Sometimes it's in moments like these when you stop and think about where you're at in life. And I started to think about how I ended up here, in Toronto.

I came for love, but I stayed for a different kind of love. This city has been incredibly good to me. Over the last eight years, I've met some of my life long friends, I've gained a deeper understanding of myself and I've expanded my career here. But underlying the love factor, at the base of it all, the key driver for being here has always been my career choice: advertising. It's what drove me to leave Nova Scotia the first time 'round in 1997 when I moved to Calgary. It's what caused me to give Halifax another try in 2006 and it's what brought me back again to Toronto in 2007.

So, back to the gas station. My epiphany moment probably hit me right around the time the handle on the nozzle released and my thought process ended. Recently, my job has shifted solely into the digital space. I feel like this is a good thing given the fact that we'll all have no choice (advertising or not) but to embrace this mobile marketplace. And in a mobile marketplace I realized that I can be anywhere, anytime with my job. Don't get me wrong, I love Toronto and I'm not going anywhere anytime soon, but with the world wide web we can be free! Free to travel and live wherever we want. This was a big moment for me this morning at Esso, especially as a small town kid that's traveled the country for work, making tiny sacrifices along the way.

Now I know that people believe the digital space and social media causes us to be less connected, but it's simply not true. You can now be where you love to be with your family and your friends by your side. I wrote about this similar topic once before, about staying true to who you are and not letting technology replace your genuine, real self. But today my happiness came in knowing we can use technology to be closer, physically. I'm not sure what took me so long to think of this...apparently I've been busy.

When I came back home this morning, I pulled out the journal that I kept when I first moved to Calgary (from Halifax) in 1997. It was my adventure to finding a "real job" at an advertising agency after graduating from university. This journal entry was particularly relevant as I think about the possibilities of digital world twelve years later (and the fact that I'm transcribing a 12 year old journal entry to my online blog in 2009).

April 19, 1997

Well here I sit one month after finding a job feeling not so strong or satisfied anymore. I feel like I'm losing sight of what I've come to Calgary for. Everyone has been telling me that it was such a big move on my part to come alone, across the country, to accomplish a career that I've always dreamt of. And if tomorrow I decided to go back home I still wouldn't feel like I accomplished what I wanted.

Before coming out here I thought the most important thing was to find a job in advertising. Now I'm here and I have it, but it seems like I don't have much else. I don't have love surrounding me like I used to back home. I remember someone once said that the true definition of hell was having everything you've ever wanted (material things) and having no one left on the planet to share it with you. Right now, today feels like that kind of hell.

I've been so lucky to have been given the life I have and to have such incredible friends and parents. I feel like no one else has the kind of friends like I do. I feel as though I really have the best ones and I miss them so much. But I also know the importance of staying positive, feeling grateful, living in the now, knowing that this too shall pass and it will make me stronger.

behind the scenes

2009-10-25T19:30:00.000-07:00

When I saw U2 one month ago at the Rogers Centre in Toronto, I was blown away by a couple of things:

1) The size of the audience. Never having seen a concert there before and having seats in the lower bowl, section 100, we were still miles away from Bono, The Edge, Larry and Adam, but...
2) it was ok, because the size of the stage was monstrous. I couldn't stop thinking of all the people that are behind the scenes - that have designed, built and that put the stage together every night.

And it made me think about all the people that are behind the scenes in all things that make life more beautiful. From the parents that raise remarkable children, to the choreographers that create art in dance, the screenwriters that make us laugh and in our jobs, to the team of people that make us look good collectively every day. I'm appreciative of the big little people that make things better.

alone in a crowded room

2009-10-22T17:50:00.001-07:00

I pride myself on my independence. Probably to a fault. But I love the strength in doing things on my own; things that most others feel they couldn't do without the support and presence of someone else at their side. My lone-state of emotional happiness has ranged from "I am woman, hear my roar!" when I fixed a toilet for the first time...to as big as "I'm on top of the world!" after a 4-day climb to Machu Picchu.

Basically, I get off (not in that way) on having dinner alone with a candle, a glass of wine and a book in a cozy restaurant. (Oddly, I enjoy this more when I'm traveling, but not so much here at home). I treasure solo road-trips with my dog and my ipod. I prefer to run alone than with a friend. And I'll never forget the first time I went to a movie by myself - pure bliss.

That said, my evil (or perhaps, my better) gemini twin also loves parties, dinners, trips and all around good times with the people I love the most in the world - my family and amazing friends. So no, I'm not some kind of loner hermit.

Last night, for the second time in my life, I went to a concert by myself. This, I can say is not nearly as much fun as all my other fav things to do alone. But my take on life is to never stop yourself from doing the things you want because you don't have a companion, partner, friend or lover with you - whether it's travel, a movie, dinner or a concert. I'm incredibly happy that I pushed myself to buy that ticket to see Metric at Massey Hall last night. While it's always way more fun to dance and sing with friends, Emily rocked that stage so hard that she had me dancing with her. Not only was I in a moment with her, but we all were. Together.

you've got mail

2009-10-20T17:17:00.000-07:00

Do you know what the second best thing to happen after a long day at work is?

Coming through the door and having old-fashioned mail in a white, hand-written envelope.

Do you know what the best thing after that is?

Seeing this image inside the envelope.

This is one of the sweetest, smartest and most independent little girls on the planet. Sweet Mara is my girlfriend Rhonda's 5 -yr old daughter. Mara and I have had a special bond since she was first able to speak. Our connection began with eye-wear and then grew over jungle gyms, baking and footwear.

This image makes me so incredibly happy, but a tiny bit melancholy at the speed with which she's growning up. But what grounds me in looking at it, is how much she is so in this one moment - so ecstatic to be grown-up and in school with the big kids.

Mara, may you always celebrate each and every accomplishment (big or small) in your life, in the same way you did on this one day.

dance, dance revolution

2009-10-18T19:22:00.000-07:00

I think as a general population there are very few things we collectively have in common, but I'm pretty sure we all wish would could sing and dance. Personally, if I was lucky enough to have an opportunity to choose one - hands down: dancing. And from there if I had to choose between being part of a bigger dance group versus dancing solo, I'd go for the group.

My first initiation for a choreographed dance was when I took line dancing lessons with my mom in the early nineties. Damn, we worked it - sliding our sweet ole cowboy boots across the hardwood floor to a crowd favourite, Achy Breaky Heart. Now, I don't care what you say but I already sense your judgement (can you smell my judgement project coming?), but I can almost guarantee that if you tried it, you'd have a ball. And that, my friends, is the magic of dance. Once you remove the fear of being judged you feel free, in the moment and an intense happiness.

I've had some old fashioned good times this past summer. I've rocked out to Eye of the Tiger with my band Munrovia, sang my heart out twice at Karaoke, lifted a third of my bodyweight firing a bowling ball down a cosmic wooden lane and tried to nail "We got the Beat" about seven times on an electric Twister pad with Marse this summer. But alas, simply put - I miss dancing. And I can tell you I'm a little rusty because my seven-year-old 'faux niece' was teaching me Hip Hop dance moves last weekend and I almost threw my back out.

In summary, I think I smell a new 'welcome to awes' event.

And while I fully want to bust it out in a group dance, I completely respect and appreciate dudes like this guy....god bless 'em.

the seasons, they are a changing

2009-10-17T07:26:00.000-07:00

I've definitely had writers block for the last 11 days. I found myself struggling to think of any new and relevant content, while staying true to my theme. The hard part is keeping you interested and coming back for more. No easy task when this blog is about me, my life and cherishing wee moments. So when I was running the other day, I thought about a project that I'm going to kick off right here on my blog in 2010 and I'll need your input. So stayed tuned for "The Judgement Project".

As an aside, I'm sitting here this morning editing summer photos from my trip 'home' to Cape Breton. Although it was only 8 weeks ago, it honestly feels like last year. The number one reason being that in these summery shots we're in swimsuits and shorts and today I wore my winter coat. The seasons are a changin' that for sure, but mostly in the number of seasons we have here in Toronto. We are now narrowed down to only two: 10.5 months of "freeze your ass off" and 1.5 months of "toasty and luke warm".

this is a small taste of the many spectacular moments that we experienced this summer. This is my dad and my 13-yr old niece. I love this private moment of solitude and the subtly of their arms resting together.

my two dads

2009-10-06T15:11:00.000-07:00

It's almost two years ago to the day that I moved into my cozy little apartment in Leslieville. The plan was to only stay for one year. But the problem is I'm kinda attached to my landlords, something I can honestly say I never thought would happen. I'm mean everyone usually hates their slumlord, but mine are different...mine are gaylords! Todd and Matt own the house (well actually, I might own it by now after two years of paying their mortgage) and I live on the top floor. Over the last two years, we've gone from a tenant/landlord relationship to being truly the best of friends.

They've lent me their truck to take friends to a Jack Johnson concert; they've come to the rescue many times when I've needed help looking after Dawson; they've made me dinner on numerous occasions and I've only returned the favour once with my 'white trash pot pie'; we religiously watch American Idol together and if I miss a night they don't understand why; they've met many of my lifer friends and gone to dinner with all of us on several occasions. They've even made my mom feel comfortable enough to share stories I've never heard before. I feel safe with them here and somewhat protected (although I could probably kick any robbers ass better than they could...well better than Todd anyway). More importantly we can say almost anything to each other without hurting each others feelings (I said almost). I often wonder what it will be like to come home without them here. I mean really, I've lived 2 years without a dryer and a black cable cord running across my living room because the electricity isn't up to snuff. Why? Because it's worth living here for so many other reasons.

Aside from their friendship, they give me new perspective and they've showed me what real love looks like with a different 'face on it'. It's a relationship unlike anything I've ever known intimately in my life, nor is it like any relationship in my list of family and friends. They've been together for nine years and they do things differently than us straights, but sometimes I think they've got it figured out better than 'we' do. They've been through a lot together and their age gap is close to that of Ashton and Demi's. Aside from this photo, they've also broken down a few stereotypes for me in that all gays aren't "so queeenniee!".

Now they are about to take their relationship to the next level. Parenthood.

Last weekend, we were at brunch where I got to introduce them to someone special in my life. The conversation, as expected, was seamless and at ease. And since Todd is very outspoken and because his ovaries are aching, he brought up "Operation Eggs Benett". He started to explain to us the difference between adoption and in vitro and why it's more challenging when you're a gay couple. But it was when he said, "you know for us it's not as easy as a bottle of wine and a bear-skin rug" that it hit me. The things we take for granted in life. And how so many people can freely have a baby that really aren't fit to be solid parents. And how for me, it could happen in one simple night and for them it will likely take up to 2 years. It almost makes you want to say, here take one of mine because you have a precious gift that is like kryptonite to them.

Anyway, I suggest you follow their story for more perspective and to just see how much love there is out there to give but how sometimes it's a bit hard it is to receive.

the sound of silence

2009-10-04T07:15:00.000-07:00

A friend of mine asked me the other night why I always seem to stay away from stories that air on the darker side of this too shall pass. My first thought was "have you ever read my rage post?". But he was right, I suppose on some level I'm trying to remind all of you about how precious every moment is in life and to also show that "this too shall pass" can and does have positive meaning. (For instance, my one co-worker that told me this week that the first time she saw my tattoo she thought to herself: wow, what's this girl all about? is she ready to kill herself?) WTF?! Pardon?

I'm not sure if after recently talking about the 'darker side' of this sentiment, watching the movie "The Soloist" was simply topical or purely coincidental. But it struck a dark chord (pardon the pun). Why? Well, I heart true stories and because my biggest fear in life is being homeless.

Some might say that this is an irrational fear, but I beg to differ. I remember years ago my girlfriend Rita told me that one of her biggest fears was a tsunami. It was a fear that I felt was completely ridiculous and irrational, until the two of us spent Christmas together in Mexico and when we were getting ready to hit the beach we heard the news. CNN was our only English channel, and it made us aware of a tsumani that swelled in the Indian Ocean that morning - it would soon report that it was about to take the lives of 150,000 people. I looked at Reets thinking, well...not so irrational after all. So, after witnessing my first recession as an adult, I feel my fear is also completely rationale. Sure, I'm of sound mind and body but that doesn't mean we all can't fall upon incredible hardship. Perhaps it's because, as a middle-aged woman, the responsibility of having a roof over my head, a bed to sleep in and food to eat falls solely on me. This is not intended to be a pity party, it's simply where the fear is rooted.

I cannot tell you how many times over my life where I've had a heated discussion with individuals that believe you shouldn't give homeless people money. Sure, there are likely thousands on the streets that created their own self-demise, but there are so many that don't stand a chance from the moment in which they were born. And so many more suffer from an incredible mental illness that we cannot even begin to understand. So, my point for years has been why bother painting them all with the same brush? Imagine if you were the one in their position, I'm sure a smile or say hello goes so much further than any quarter or dime in your pocket. So I often extend the gesture of human empathy.

Where my home today is my safe haven, I can totally understand why four walls may seem like a prison for a lone individual suffering mentally. So given that they choose the streets as their unconfined home instead of an apartment or shelter - is that really a choice after all?

Watch CBS Videos Online

bowlerAWESerama

2009-09-29T17:34:00.000-07:00

If there is one thing that is better than always having the manifesto of living in the moment, it's friends that surround your life with this mantra. And it's even more inspiring when they work so hard to make sure that the energy is shared via human osmosis with "totes. awes. energy."

You may have friends that consistently try and bring everyone together to play board games or have dinner parties. And while admirable, I'm one lucky muther-fucking-cock-sucking-son-of-a-bitch to have friends that don't just suggest a different idea in order to live in the moment but they take it up about 25 notches. From Karaoke X 2 this summer, to the incredibly AWES Bowlerama. As if the event ideas alone weren't enough, this is the invite which required a secret password to reply.

Sam & Cherylese, again you make my world a better place. Thank you for ensuring we all enjoy the very moments that pass so quickly. 5 minutes worthy each of xoxo's each.

green with envy

2009-09-27T16:19:00.000-07:00

I realized today that I never feel jealousy or envy for another human being. Ever.

Except in case of running.

I don't look at people and compare material goods and feel jealous that they have nicer homes, cars or clothes. I never feel like I dislike someone because they are beautiful and perhaps seem to have 'it all'. And when I witness remarkable acts of pure love in relationships, I never feel a longing or envy for it in my own life.

But today was the Scotiabank Waterfront Marathon here in Toronto. Traffic was nuts because so many streets were shut down. And that's when I felt it - pure, green envy to be one of those runners. The irreplaceable feeling at the beginning of a start line, the pride, anxiety and fear. The sound of all the sneaks pounding on the pavement underneath our feet. Passing kids on the sidelines holding signs that say, "go mommy, we love you". The incredible inner strength that builds over every step in every kilometer. Pure Envy. Whether they were running the 10km, Half Marathon or Full, I just hope they realized how lucky the are to be able to participate.

I'm still dealing with the nerve damage in my foot almost 3 years later now after the Chi-town Marathon. Sure, I can go out for a 5, 6 or 7km run but it's not like it used to be. I'm always conscious of every step and it's so very tough to release my mind in the way I used to. I want to run. I miss it in the same way you'd miss family if you moved away from home for the the first time. I'm homesick for running.

After physio, metatarsal lifts and orthodics, today made me realize that it might be time to go under the knife. I need you, running. There, I admitted it.

and as a huge PS - congrats to my dear friend Brendan Jeffries who ran his very first Half Marathon today in Saint John, New Brunswick in 1:47. Amazing run time!

rock witcha

2009-09-23T18:14:00.000-07:00

the month of September is almost over and I feel like the recent days of my life have been so rich with love. My life experiences of late have really been an extension of my friends' lives.

It started back in August when Rita & Jay asked me to look after their first 'born', Tonka. And to also take care of their home while they were in Hawaii. That week was immediately followed by an evening of hanging with sweet Jake at my house for an eve. Jake is my friend Leslie's beloved pooch and she was in need of immediate doggy sitting services. Diggers and I were happy to oblige. During this entire time, I've spent every day searching for cheap flights to New Brunswick for Thanksgiving to spend it with AK and Kirst (and their sweet chitlin's and hubbies). In the meantime, Toni is working diligently out in BC to find me a flight to Castlegar for Christmas. And on her points, no less. This way I get to experience Christmas again with my friends but on a different coast (last year was magical in Boutsy's Point with the Hennessey's). Now I'm prepping to head to Kingston on Friday night to meet up with Rhonda who is there for her version of homecoming with her Queens girlies. She's flying in from Van and I'm going to meet her little baby boy who's only weeks old. He and I will hang in the hotel room while his mommy has an reunion night out on the town. And finally, I can't forgot last weekend (touched on in my last blog post) - not only being asked to be Adrienne's wedding photographer, but on the eve of her wedding being called by Matt at 2:30am. Matt is Kelly's hubby...baby 3 was on the way and they called (as I was on the emergency list) to watch the kids while they went to the hospital. Being that close to the birthing 'process' of one of my closest friends was incredibly moving.

All that said, guys - I'm honoured to be your friend. You prove that water can be just as thick as blood.

You guys rock my world.

be present

2009-09-20T07:05:00.000-07:00

I just finished the Time Traveller's Wife last night. Yes, I know it's in theatres and highly cliche to dig into now, but this book was given to me as a gift on my 33rd birthday (if you're keeping track, that's 2 years ago). What is pathetic is that I had it on my reading-to-do list for 24 months and finally tackled it this past August. I attempted it once before, wasn't in the head space and then put it back on my bookshelf. This time I fell in love with it...that said, the love didn't really start to grow until page 400 (which is 80% into it).

Last night, with 15 pages left, one of the most beautiful statements in the entire book was when Henry said to Clare (I'm not giving anything away, the title of the book takes care of that):

I hate to think of you waiting. I know that you have been waiting for me all your life, always uncertain of how long this patch of waiting would be. Ten minutes, Ten Days, a month. Please, Clare, when I am dead, stop waiting and be free. Of me - put me deep inside you and then go out into the world and live. Love the world and yourself in it.

Is it just me or was that god-damn breathtaking?

The simple importance of being truly present in our short life.

On Friday, my girlfriend Kelly (aka KZ) sent me an email after we had both experienced the U2 concert on separate nights. Her email said, "I particularly enjoyed the song Stuck in a Moment and for the first time I really heard the lyrics 'it's just a moment. this time will pass'."

On Saturday, my girlfriend Adrienne (aka Ady) got married. I was honoured to be their wedding photographer. In turn, and very unexpected, her and Kev gave me the most beautiful necklace. Totally my style and she had it engraved with the words:

BE PRESENT.

this was my favourite 'be present' moment with KZ and Ady in Halifax, NS. 2006

On Sat, Sept 19th - KZ gave birth to her third babes and Ady got married to an amazing guy.

To many more present and ever-changing moments. Love you both. xo

our home and native land

2009-09-17T18:00:00.000-07:00

On my morning drive to work today, I was listening to The Dean Blundell Show on 102.1 The Edge. The show can be almost as entertaining and crude as Howard Stern. Sometimes they cross the line where I'm slightly turned off the show for a couple of days, but they always suck me back in because more often than not they make me laugh in the morning.

no. small. task.

So today, Dean, Jason and Todd were interviewing Bob Probert (the once fighting goon of my beloved Detroit Red Wings) and figure skater Kristina Lenko. Bob and Kristina were promoting the new CBC show Battle of the Blades. I realized that through most of the interview I was either smiling or laughing. I was convinced that if anyone saw me as they passed would have known I was listening to the show, if they were too of course. He was hysterical, mostly because he is now completely out of his comfort zone, showing his more delicate, feminine side. So classic. The thing that impressed me the most (aside from Probert's bravery to put himself in this very public and live arena) was that this was a CBC show. Nice work.

Then tonight as I was watching The Hour, I was (as always) enamoured by the sweet styles of Strombo. It got me thinking about how incredible it is that we have The Hour, our own unique approach to tragic, depressing news. Aside from Strombo, the next best newscast is Amy Poehler and Seth Meyers and 'we' certainly and sadly can't take cred for that....wait a sec, yes we can...thank you, Lorne Michaels.

Just a fun simple day in a pretty remarkable country.

By the way, you can find the Edge interview here, about 1/3 of the way in. Oh, and did I mention I was drinking a Tim Horton's coffee at the time?

my neverland

2009-09-14T17:50:00.000-07:00

Thanks to a recent episode of Little Britain, where Marjorie of Fat Fighters referenced "Pigs in Space", I almost forgot about a significant portion of my childhood happiness.

Aside from Hockey Night in Canada and Larry King Live, two other shows that dad and I would watch together were "The Wonderful World of Disney" on Sunday nights on CBC and "The Muppet Show". The thought of both of these shows literally warms my heart with wholesome family goodness. To dig a little deeper into the Muppet Show itself, I was a HUGE fan of Animal, Statler and Waldorf, Beeker and Pigs in Space. But more specifically there was one key Muppet Show episode that will forever go down in history in the Munroe household - when Shields and Yarnell were the guest hosts. Dad and I absolutely LOVED this one segment where Shields and Yarnell are a Robot couple living together. This breakfast scene is priceless, brilliant and somewhat creepy. But it's the moment when Yarnell loses some of her functionality and ends up face first in her cereal. This three minute segment was hours, in fact ...years, of entertainment for dad and I. We killed this joke - not only with our own food (never fully hitting the plate), but even better - when we would silently mock others acting out our own private robot scene. Tired babies and drunken friends and relatives were our highlight and muse.

This little find is for you, dad.

As for you dear internet, I never underestimate your amazingness...this might be my favourite discovery yet.

he loves me, he loves me not

2009-09-10T17:42:00.002-07:00

I love love. I love when people fall madly, crazy head over heels in love. I love when people take a risk to chase love. I love when people make plans on a whim in the spirit of fun and love. This week I was reminded how much I love this feeling when a co-worker decided to quit his (very good) job, sell his goods (home included) and move to the other side of the world for l.o.v.e. Breaking convention and going for it. Totes. amaze.

I'm a fan of all of the above because it's in my nature to change my environment often - other than my dog, my longest commitment was 4 years. I've never lived in a place longer than that, had a home longer than that, a car or a significant other. I bore quickly and I love a challenge. I love someone that calls me on my shit and that will always make me laugh.

I'm always on the quest to ensure my ongoing happiness is maintained, which is not to be confused with always searching for happiness. I'm not looking to settle. I don't think I'm unrealistic or in denial. I know 'they' say you're not suppose to have your cake and eat it too, but really - why buy the god damn cake if you're not going to shove it in your face?

Crazy in love + a lifetime = super moist cake with thick icing. Yep, one large piece right here, please!

(legal disclaimer: this is not a personal advert)

eyes wide open

2009-09-09T16:47:00.000-07:00

This morning on my way to work, I was trying to turn left off of Yonge Street onto the side street where I park everyday. This is no easy task at 8:30am when the sidewalks are swarmed with human bodies and the lane you're trying to cross is lined with traffic.

When there was finally a gap in the cars, I faced my second blockade - all the pedestrians were walking with heads down, staring at their feet and ipods fastened to their ears. But, there was one sweet little boy, probably 9 or 10 yrs old, that stopped. He pulled out his earphones, looked at me and waited...while all the adults kept walking. I looked at him and smiled. It was a moment - 2 seconds, no more - where I felt like he knew I was grateful, not so much for the brief pause in his step, but his wherewithal to demonstrate a greater courtesy among his adult peers.

That impacted me all day today.

So, here's to the kids that give us hope, have direction and compassion for their world around them - whether it's a tiny Toronto street corner or beyond.

sweet bird of youth

2009-09-07T10:11:00.000-07:00

I'm in Ottawa hanging out with my niece and nephew for the last few days while their parents are in Paris and London. It's actually my favourite thing to just hang with the two of them solo. We've had an action packed weekend of glow-in-the-dark mini putt, hours of Rock Band, movies, watching vids on YouTube, making pizza, walking the dogs, working out to my DVDs and just being plain stupid and funny. They really couldn't have picked a more immature aunt if they tried. So, it's been jackpot good times for all of us.

But lately when I'm around them, even though I'm living in the moment, I can't help but wonder what bits of this time in their life they'll remember most. When I think of my life at 10 and 13 there is very little I can remember, which is kind of sad - knowing they won't look back on the finer details of weekends like this, in the way I will.

In my life, when I was their age, it would have been 1985 - 1987 and I'm pretty sure I was doing exactly what they were doing right here. Dancing with all my heart to music, specifically Michael Jackson. Albeit the technology has and will change in this setting, but the feeling of being youthful and spontaneous is consistent. My one hope is that they remain youthful throughout life and remember to live as free and happy as they are in this one tiny moment.

So, here's to their fun collection of memories that will hopefully sum it up as one big amazing experience.

sigh

2009-09-04T17:56:00.001-07:00

I had two different conversations today, with two different people but they both ended up in the same place. The energy and power of love and hate. I believe in human energy, it's impossible not to believe in it because when you (rarely) share it with someone it is electrifying.

My point was this: love is easy, free, remarkable and insane fun. When you're in it, it's a moment and it requires zero energy. And hate...well, it is exhaustive, useless, pointless and depletes all good energy. So, why do we work so hard to hate, when we all just want to be loved.

one flew over the cuckoo's nest

2009-09-03T17:28:00.000-07:00

Last night the doorbell rang; such a foreign sound. Who randomly drops by anymore without warning? Unheard of and almost insulting, yes? Or perhaps I'm just a crusty cow. I knew it couldn't have been the gaylords because if they want me they just yell up or ring the bell incessantly.

So, with Diggers savagely barking behind me, I opened the door and there he was...the sweetest most endearing face. He was a young man in his early 20s wearing a CAMH shirt and holding a clipboard. Ah, the sweet purity of door-to-door marketing. Just as archaic as the doorbell-ring itself. His name was Mark and by all accounts appeared "normal", if you don't count his wide-open eyes full of expressive enthusiasm for the topic at hand - the people that live in the CAMH hospital. Normally my 'go-to' would be to immediately tell him "no, thank you" or "can you leave me some information?", but I wanted to listen to what he had to say. Why? 1) I'll spend hours listening to someone talk passionately about something they believe in and 2) because crazy people hold a special place in my heart and 3) I know and love(d) people with mental illness.

Ironically, his little speech was in reference to the huge stigma against people with mental illness and addictions, so I probably shouldn't throw around the word "crazy" so loosely. But if you know me, you know I mean it in the most endearing way. Because hell, on some level, we're all crazy. In fact, if you look up 'crazy' in the dictionary it's defined as "mentally strange". I rest my case. But, we just need a greater understanding for those that can't control it. Moral of the story: whether people are labeled as small crazy, medium crazy or large crazy - they all have one thing in common. They make the world a more poetic, artistic and interesting place.

So, for Mark, I'd like extend his door-to-door message to you.

Empathize. Don't Criticize.

love is in the air

2009-09-02T04:29:00.001-07:00

Good morning! Welcome to my monthly PMS post, where you never know what emotion you're going to get. And since you're friends, I'll warn you. Sappy. That's what you got right here, right now.

I just finished working out, checked email and started to surf (morning procrastination ritual). I came across this image and it made me stop, albeit momentarily.

It wasn't so much the photo, but it was more the moment itself. A tiny moment where (staged or not...and I'm really hoping it's not) these two are so in love that they stopped in a crowd to share a mutual energy. And my favourite part, his hand preparing to caress her neck or face.

'Outsider perspective' can be a very schizophrenic thing - when you're in the throws of PMS. Today, I look at these two and feel longing for a similar moment and I feel happy to have witnessed their love. Try showing me this picture next month and let's see what happens. Warning: Stay Back.

to see lots of enviable love, you should go here.

secret, secret ...I got a secret

2009-08-31T19:25:00.000-07:00

If you've never heard of Post Secret, you must take the time to check it out and buy one of the books in the series. It might be the most thought-provoking piece of literature you've ever read. A collection of postcards, with anonymous secrets from real people. Some of these secrets are simple and funny; some are so dark that you almost feel guilty for now having privileged access to knowing it. And my secret? I first discovered this book over 2 years ago, while spending some quality time in my friend Kelly's bathroom - ahem...it was part of the bathroom decor. I was captivated. We all have secrets, sometimes we don't even know we have them because they're one of the millions of thoughts in our head - daily, weekly, maybe even hourly. And if it stays only in your head, is it ever real?

Sure, there are gossip-type secrets which, let's face it, aren't really secrets at all. But these confessions are the purest secrets you'll ever have the opportunity to indulge in.

This week, my friend Ali sent along a forwarded email called "Thoughts" and, like you, I usually hate getting forwarded jokes and chain letters. But after almost deleting it tonight (my secret #2), I took a moment to read it. It immediately reminded me of Post Secret, but a little on the lighter side. Friends, I'm pretty sure we share 90% of these secrets too.

More often than not, when someone is telling me a story all I can think about is that I can’t wait for them to finish so that I can tell my own story that’s not only better, but also more directly involves me.
Nothing sucks more than that moment during an argument when you realize you're wrong.
I would rather try to carry 10 plastic grocery bags in each hand than take 2 trips to bring my groceries in.
I think part of a best friend's job should be to immediately clear your computer history if you die.
The only time I look forward to a red light is when I’m trying to finish a text.
I have a hard time deciphering the fine line between boredom and hunger.
Whenever someone says "I'm not book smart, but I'm street smart", all I hear is "I'm not real smart, but I'm imaginary smart".
How many times is it appropriate to say "What?" before you just nod and smile because you still didn't hear what they said?
I love the sense of camaraderie when an entire line of cars teams up to prevent a jerk from cutting in at the front. Stay strong, brothers!
While driving yesterday I saw a banana peel in the road and instinctively swerved to avoid it...thanks Mario Kart.
MapQuest really needs to start their directions on #5. Pretty sure I know how to get out of my neighborhood.
I find it hard to believe there are actually people who get in the shower first and THEN turn on the water.
I can't remember the last time I wasn't at least kind of tired.
Why is it that during an ice-breaker, when the whole room has to go around and say their name and where they are from, I get so incredibly nervous? Like I know my name, I know where I'm from; this shouldn't be a problem....
There's no worse feeling than that millisecond you're sure you are going to die after leaning your chair back a little too far.
I'm always slightly terrified when I exit out of Word and it asks me if I want to save any changes to my ten page research paper that I swear I did not make any changes to.
I hate leaving my house confident and looking good and then not seeing anyone of importance the entire day. What a waste.
I like all of the music in my iTunes, except when it's on shuffle, then I like about one in every fifteen songs in my iTunes.
Sometimes I'll look down at my watch 3 consecutive times and still not know what time it is.
I keep some people's phone numbers in my phone just so I know not to answer when they call.

ps - the best part of Post Secret? the funds from the books go to charity, specifically suicide hotlines.

like sands through the hourglass

2009-08-30T07:33:00.000-07:00

This week I had two different experiences and conversations that further reinforced the need to slow down in a lifetime that seems to be zipping by.

I met up for dinner with an old friend from my hometown. He was in Toronto this week on business. When we saw each other, it seemed as if no time had passed and of course we had a lifetime of stories to share - one, in particular, really effected me. We were talking about his step mom growing up and I remember her well but I couldn't remember how long she was with his dad (now knowing their relationship was over many, many years ago). It felt like it was a small blip in time, but he said they were together for 10 years. I was shocked, more so because now as adult I can appreciate that 10 years is a significant amount of time to invest in anything. And since that relationship, his dad has been with another amazing woman for probably another twenty years. Proving that we can have so many lives within one, showcasing that life really can be so very long.

This morning, a similar situation occurred. I was at the coffee shop at the end of my street. And there was a hat left sitting on a chair. Gary (one of the employees) recognized it was the hat of a gentleman that comes in every morning. He just left before I got there. There were only a few of us in the coffee shop, so Gary proceeded to tell us a that this man was 90 years old and he said to us, "honestly, if I live to be 90, I want to live life the way he does - youthful and grateful". Apparently he met the love of his life last year - she's 89. They walk to and from the coffee shop every morning holding hands. They're madly in love. And there I was thinking, 55 years from now I could meet the love of my life! So crazy, yet so inspiring.

Almost daily, I find myself in awe of time. It might be the only thing left in this world that shocks me on a regular basis. It's in the news when I'm reminded that 18 years ago was 1991; when I hear my best friend that I grew up with since the age of five tell me that her daughter is turning seven this month and when I watch my sweet old black lab move slower and tire faster. But, these two very different situations both reminded that from start to finish, the journey really is quite long. We all tend to want and need more things desperately and this generation and the ones following us want everything yesterday. Yet, we never crave the enjoyment of the moment in time today. If we rush time to reach a destination - will we ever feel the reward of the chase when we get there? It's just landing in another moment in time and would you remember living in those moments that lead you there?

As suspected, in getting my tattoo on my wrist in May of this year - I knew many people would view it as a negative perspective on time. So far, those that see it as a tragic statement far outweigh those that see it as a beautiful expression. Does that say more about society than me? Not sure. Regardless, although these moments will pass, these are the days of our lives. I prefer to live one at a time.

the alpha dog

2009-08-27T05:06:00.000-07:00

I'm obsessed. I realized this year that on my ongoing quest to be smarter, I study new and fascinating people. But if they have a really polarizing personality then I'm screwed. My obsession will typically last for about a 2 month period. Now, these obsessions are harmless to everyone involved (including my subject matter) but me. Mostly because they'll occupy a large chunk of my time.

Take Mickey Rourke for example (yes, I realize that being obsessed with him might take me off course on the smarter quest). When I watched the Wrestler, I was in awe of his acting, his face and how raw and real the story was. Maybe this had something to do with the fact that I grew up watching Wrestling with my dad, regardless it sent me on a hunt for more information - taking me back to '9.5 weeks'. Then I dug even deeper - watching his movies, going through old pics, his story of his rise and fall, his tumultuous divorce. I was hooked and in admiration. I realize he's not a stellar guy and was a dick to a lot of people, but that's probably what intrigued me - that even though he wasn't a saint he was successful and crazy talented.

And now, for the last few months its been Steve Jobs. Christ, I've watched "Pirates of Silicon Valley", read the book iCon (you must too), downloaded podcasts and have generally been studying his (and Bill Gates') career for the last 2 months now. I've even written a blog or two about him.

Aside from these two gentleman, these attractions are grounded in the reality of my everyday life. I like the Alpha Dog. It's probably fair to say that, without intentionally trying, I too will find myself trying placing myself in the Alpha Dog position (really, I'm a harmless pup). But if you get a stronger and charming Alpha in the room with me, I start peeing on the floor and they make me their bitch.

for the love of god

2009-08-19T18:46:00.000-07:00

Almost 42 years ago today, my mom married my dad in this wedding dress.

My grandparents didn't show up to their ceremony because my mom was Catholic. From all historic accounts of this tale, my dad's parents liked my mom but they were Protestant and mom was, well...not.

The reason this is topical for me is three-fold:

1) My mom and dad are still (happily) married and about to celebrate their anniversary on Sept 4th. mind blowing.

2) I coincidentally just did this fun photo shoot 2 weeks ago in her wedding dress with my friend Liam.

3) And, I was talking religion tonight with my sweet friend Kevin.

Kevin just got back from Tel Aviv and he was sharing his stunning photos of mosques, churches, the weeping wall and images of Mary and Jesus. The images of Jerusalem and the Dead Sea were beyond breath taking. The conversation evolved to how important it is within certain cultures to marry within your own religion. He explained, in his opinion, that it had more to do with culture than faith, the desire is really rooted in the sense of belonging and the heritage of a close knit community that it can bring. Kevin is Jewish. I explained to him that I never really did understand why that rationale is so important. Isn't love simply important enough? (and, believe me, I have first hand experience after being engaged to a Jew in a different lifetime).

Don't get me wrong, I do feel that we all need to believe in something, have faith and hope in something - so that we don't let the weight of the world bring us down. But the problem lies in that we use the power of religion as an excuse to either do right or wrong against other people.

Isn't it really just about being a professional human being? Just work hard to feel love and share love, build a community in your own family - have dinner at the table, make time to meet with friends, sit down and write a hand-written thank you letter (for anything), leave tiny presents to your love to remind them why you care about them so much.

Consider yourself like a rockstar - you wouldn't be where you are today without your fans. So, at the end of it all, when you're up on the podium and you start by thanking the Lord and your saviour Jesus Christ, don't forget to thank all the little people that made you famous in every day of your life.

Video Killed the Radio Star

2009-08-16T18:55:00.000-07:00

A collection of circumstances lately has taken me back to the early 1980s. I was only in grade one or two at the time and as a naive 6-year old, I was unaware of what was happening in the big bright world around me. A significant pop cultural shift was occurring - the introduction of video with audio on a channel called MTV. Little would I know at the time, that 20 years later I would be representing TV Commercial Directors to the advertising community here in Toronto; specifically Gerry Casale of Devo fame. Now I don't care how old you are or how little you know of Devo, you definitely know the song "Whip It", in fact I believe this song has made it's way on a ba-gillion commercials, spoofs and ripomatics since it's conception. "Whip It" was one of the first music videos to hit MTV, so it was pretty cool to meet and get to know someone who impacted and had a hand in changing the way we experience music.

DEVO - Whip It

I have to say that after 28 years of a plethora of unbelievable music videos - from Thriller, to Wild Boys, Take on Me, Just a Gigilo, Like A Virgin, Nuthin but a G Thang, Bark at the Moon, California Love and We're Not Gunna Take It...well, there is really no excuse for this today...

at least I'm not a twat

2009-08-15T07:51:00.000-07:00

Driving from Sydney to Halifax last week, I was listening to CBC Radio and discovered that I've just been awarded a new label in life. Apparently, there is a newly defined social demographic group called a T.W.I.T. - a teenage woman in her thirties. Amazing, just what I need, another label from society to take away your freedoms and make you feel like you're living your life frivolously and without meaning. As if cougar and spinster weren't enough. Once again, I find myself looking at society and saying, "fuck you!"

So, according to the pure definition: TWITS: Just like men with Peter Pan-syndrome who are not ready to grow up, TWITS are putting serious relationships and parenthood on hold, instead choosing to continue partying and enjoying the freedoms they discovered in their teens.

OK, so I'm not a "big" club person. Scratch that, I'm not a club person. I dress up on fun occasions and bring out the girly once in awhile (it's more fun and surprising that way), I love movies like Old School and Swingers, I like drinking beer, I have a potty mouth, burping and farting can make me laugh 'til I cry, dirty jokes don't offend me, I love Justin Timberlake, I've even downloaded Britney Spears (recently), I've been 'one of the boys' my entire life, I like sleeping with my hand comfortably placed in top of turkey pants when I fall asleep at night. I still call men, 'boys'. I fall for boys like Peter Pan (the straight version). And just because I haven't found my boy that I'll make babies with and grow old with in our very own Never Neverland, I'm slapped with being called a twit. Ho hum.

You know, the more I think about it I might be a T.B.I.W.B. - a teenage boy in a woman's body.

whimsical 1, selfishness 0

2009-08-12T17:02:00.000-07:00

The majority of my blog posts are stirred by a conversation with a friend, or by thoughts I have while I'm running. In the "Case of Whimsical vs Selfishness", it was a thought provoked by a special someone but it's actually very topical for me because it's something I wrestle with in my day-to-day life. In many ways, I'm shocked I haven't expressed this feeling before, especially at a time where I'm worried my posts might be a tad repetitive and redundant.

I believe in whims. In fact, I love whims and all the ingredients that go into them. A spur of raw emotion where your gut is leading the way (somewhat intelligently, of course). As a crazy gemini that lives a life of a free bird, it's a hard balance being too whimsical and living in logical thinking because all of a sudden you wake up one day and you're a complete selfish bastard. There are many occasions where my whimsy rules because I'm a strong believer in that life is way too short and it's up to me to make the most of it. But what happens is whimsy starts to morph into, "no one can tell me what to do because this is what I want to do and it makes me oh so very happy". It wasn't that long ago that I had a moment where I thought, am I not making any room for people to go along for the ride with me? Do not fret, all aboard.

So, if you want to do something on a whim, do it, live in it and love the decision. The minute you start to over think your whimsy, the moment passes, you start following 'the rules' and you're the Mayor of Snoozeville. Be whimsy, within reason.

Feel your heart beating like a hammer - there's no feeling like it.

Honey, I'm home.

2009-08-11T19:25:00.000-07:00

Last week, as I was getting ready to head out to Nova Scotia for vaycay, I was at my brother's doing the kiddie and doggie swap. Since I was packing up his kids to take them to our original hometown - we started to have a conversation about 'home' and what 'home' meant to us. The two of us grew up in Sydney, Nova Scotia - he left when he was 18, I left when I was 20. But we both share completely different views of the place where we grew up. Although we were both pretty eager to bolt at our first chance, somehow he's not as connected as I am to the Island and everything it represents for me.

After living in Ottawa for 10 years now, he said that he wouldn't call Ottawa 'home', but he also wouldn't call Cape Breton 'home' either. If you don't know where home is...doesn't this mean your homeless?

Where IS 'home' for me?

My only reference point, and I had never realized it before, was in relation to my travels. If I'm traveling outside of Canada, I tell people that I'm "from" Toronto. In Canada, I tell people I'm "from" Cape Breton. But where I'm "from" is really irrelevant...sure my East Coast roots probably had a significant impact on the person I've become, but I think that has more to do with the way I was raised, the company I keep and ensuring I surround myself with magical people that make everyday life extraordinary. So being "from" a place -for the most part - is really a latitude and longitude describer.

This week I realized in so many various moments, that 'home' is where I sense love, trust, laughter and warmth. I've traveled approximately 2700 miles in both a car and a plane this past week and realized that my home is sitting on the dock with my Aunt Lynda talking about life as a woman, a wife and a mom, it's laughing at the 'wheelchair cookies' with my nephew Rod during the bonfire making smores, it's rocking Lola to sleep for her morning nap, it's sitting by the pool with mom and dad doing absolutely nothing but feeling love, it's conversations with friends over eggwhite omelette's, it's hearing Jack yell my name and smiling as I walk closer to the car to meet him after 8 long months, it's the written words in a letter from my niece Samantha, it's the excitement of bringing maids of honours back to the boys to eat for the first time and it's the anticipation of seeing my friends in Toronto after missing them while I was away.

Pretty damn lucky to have all this warmth, protection and shelter in my home.

Abracadabra

2009-07-30T18:35:00.000-07:00

i believe in magic.

An amazing friend recently was referring to the magic that kids can bring back into your life as an adult. He specifically was using Christmas as an example and how you get to believe all over again when you experience Christmas through a child's eyes. Remember how good it felt to know that Santa was so fantastical that he could make it around the world in one night?

For me, there are two stages of magic in life: 1) sweet and naive beliefs that are out of this world, young, childlike magic. 2) then there is a "sweet spot" magic - where most of our day to day is ho-hum, until we stop, wake-up and actually see and recognize the magic in a very adult moment.

So what is magic for me now?

it's the feeling when someone truly gets and knows the crazy thoughts inside my head. Very few people have this key and when they open it - magic.
it's those moments when you're surrounded by your closest friends and you're laughing so hard your crying. I always stop to relish it that magic - the pure joy.
it's the recognition of pure gratefulness - for everything in my life.
and a look, shared with a complete stranger or someone you love across a crowded room
more than anything, magic for me is that sweet, sweet spot defined in the picture above. It says it all.

Personally, I'm glad magic didn't end after I realized that ole Saint Nic writes just like my mom.

Thanks to 'the other cheryl' for sparking this thought with imagery.

happy tails

2009-07-29T19:11:00.000-07:00

As I get ready to head to Nova Scotia for a week without Daws, it always makes me sad leaving her behind because I know how much she loves it out there. From the fields and lakes, to the oceans and pool she freaks out all day long with a huge smile on her face.

For you non-dog lovers or non-dog owners, you likely don't see what I see when I watch this video. Which is simply happiness looking right back at me. These moments warm my insides.

I owe her a NS adventure down at Lake Ontario when I'm back.

blame it on the rain

2009-07-26T15:51:00.000-07:00

Since the 'summer' began here in Toronto, I've been surrounded by elevator conversations and small talk about the rain. It's at a point now where I'm more sick of people talking about it than I am about the god damn rain itself. And while everyone is chirping, all I'm thinking is, so let me get this straight, you'd rather 27 degrees of smoggy heat with maggots growing at a rapid pace on the heaps of garbage piling up on every street corner? If you ask me this is a great summer in TO - cool, breezy and luke warm.

Yesterday, I discovered I wasn't the only one with a positive outlook on the weather. My niece Samantha and I had to leave the Blue Jays game early (thank gawd, as they lost to a miserable comeback by Tampa Bay) to get my car...basically because time was running out on the meter. When we got to the doorway, we stopped in awe of just how hard it was raining. We looked at each other and smiled. With the car parked about a 15 minutes away, we knew this was going to be an adventure. In the absence of having an umbrella, Sam pulled up her hood and I put on my jacket and we embraced what was about to happen. Just steps away from the Rogers Centre and we were already soaked to the bone. We ran past a wedding party, we slowed down to watch an incredible guy play the spoons and we saw three young guys that decided to take their shirts of and relish in the freedom of fun. The puddles were higher than our ankles - we jumped in them, kicking water and laughing so hard we were crying. I'm not sure the walk back would have been half the fun if it was a 'typical' Toronto summer.

As for everyone else out there not having as much fun, guess they gotta blame it on something.

dreamweaver

2009-07-21T18:23:00.000-07:00

Ah, it's amazing how one tiny thing can lead to another and then it can snowball into a gong show, a step back in time or, in this case, an amazing exploration.

This story ends with Spike Jonze and begins with Tony Robbins. But the thread of it all lies within our heros, the untouchables and our imagination.

About a month ago, I was on twitter and I saw that Tony Robbins had tweeted about Steve Jobs' health and reflected upon his amazing commencement speech at Stanford back in 2005. So, I went to YouTube to watch the speech and was blown away by Steve's presence, humility and his words. I felt intrigue and interest. From there I started to gain a mild addiction to various MacWorld Conference presentations on the internet, which then lead me wanting more information on Jobs, his career, his personality and even his partner Woz. I then went to Indigo after work and picked up the book "Icon", which led me to my last blog entry. That entry, in turn, led me to spark a conversation with a friend that has a colourful history in advertising and I wondered if he ever met Lee Clow (Lee was the creative behind the "1984" Mac ad). He did meet him and knew him. Um, Ah-mazing. So that lead us to a conversation about our hero's (Lee was his and was for many in the industry) and how it sucks when we find out they're human. Hero's have flaws and that they too fart, burp and have bad breath. That made me think about the time I 'wigged out' when I met Matt Mays...ok, he was far from a hero but he was someone I put up on a platform, a stage, a rock 'n roll pedestal. And yes, while I wasn't of "sound mind" at the time, nor could I hardly formulate a sentence, I found sadness (and ironic comfort) in that he too was equally a jackass that night.

Boo to reality.

What has this snowball taught me? To continue to feed my imagination no matter how old I am, to stay hungry and be foolish and to keep my heros up high and very far away.

Trailer de Where the wild things are
by masalladeorion

an apple a day.

2009-07-19T13:44:00.000-07:00

I've been in the career of marketing communications for the last 12 years, specifically within the advertising industry. I fell in love with advertising when I was kid. Watching Saturday morning TV, I remember loving the commercials just as much as I loved the Smurf's. It wasn't until 1994, in my third year of university, when I surrendered to the fact that I wouldn't be an accountant and I wanted to do something, anything advertising related. In 1997, I landed a job at Ogilvy, which is where it all began (insert dramatic music here).

This week, after twelve years in the business, I reflected back on my experience and what I've learned...

My brother and I were on the phone last Wednesday and I started to tell him about the book that I'm reading, "Icon" based on the life of Steve Jobs' career. My brother has a long history of being a computer nerd, which has served him well his entire life. I'm often reminded of him and his passion as I read this book. Sidebar: Each page that I turn I find myself more and more attracted to 'Steve Jobs Circa 1980'. What a crazy bastard, and definitely someone who re-affirms the foundation of the book I'm writing. OK, so back to the convo with my bro. We started talking about marketing & advertising, specifically the work that Apple has been doing for the last 5 years. My brother asked me why more marketers don't produce simple, compelling, brilliant advertising like that. And for what felt like the first time in my life, I had an answer for him (you need to know that my whole life my brother is uber smart, so much so in fact that I find it difficult to talk to him on the same plain about anything in life). But because he works for IBM in Marketing and Product Management we found common ground this week. Brilliant Branding.

To me the answer was simple.

1) Because the advertising is built on an incredible product that lives up to (even surpasses) consumer expectations.

2) Apple knows branding in the purest, cleanest sense. In many ways, it's almost like they invented branding itself.

The company completely believes in innovation and leadership (so much so that when they were developing the Mac in the early 80s, Steve Jobs' specifically said his goal "was to change the world". And, they did.). Good lord, how many people say that today in the work that they do? Then, mean it and more importantly, have a group of people following that leadership to deliver on a vision.

In my opinion, 95% of marketers want their advertising to say more than what their product or service can actually offer. In turn, they don't understand the essence of their brand. And most want the advertising to "go first" in order to change perceptions before they execute/change the product or in-store experience. Advertising is not branding - the key lesson that I've witnessed over my career.

Jobs and Apple slaved over one vision and their product. They have for the last 30 years. Simply put, they get it. They believe in what they're doing. Therefore, making it simple to showcase their efforts in store, on TV and all over the web. Consumers are doing the "advertising" work for them because they worship the product. Apple has not let them down.

I can't remember a time when I got this much of a reaction to an ad I produced. More importantly I don't recall having my client beam from this much pride on something they've brought to market. Long live brilliant marketers...

Your time is limited, so don't waste it living someone else's life. Don't be trapped by dogma — which is living with the results of other people's thinking. Don't let the noise of others' opinions drown out your own inner voice. And most important, have the courage to follow your heart and intuition. - Steve Jobs

One Rum, Two Rum, Three Rum...done!

2009-07-16T19:17:00.000-07:00

The countdown to Cape Breton is ON!

You can't quite possibly know what this means to me unless you grew up on the Island. Summer in the Cape is simply sublime. On Aug 1, I head home straight to good ole Sydney, NS with my niece (Sam) and nephew (Rod) in tow. Tonight when I was talking to Sam on the phone, we were both giddy with excitement. I said, "What are you most looking forward to doing when we get there?". Ten days shy of her thirteenth birthday, she responded, "Chillaxin'. God Bless her foresight to know this is exactly what her Aunt Cheryl wanted her to say.

Some time back in May, I was craving a taste of a Cape Breton summer, so I called up my brother and we booked a trip for me and the kids to head down to see mom and dad. My bro and I are doing a family swap of sorts - they get my dog, I get the kids. Normally, that might be a raw deal (I mean that in the best possible way) but this trip, at their current age, is the best swap I could ask for.

So, what will this trip entail, you ask? Well night #1 you can pretty much guar-un-teeeeeee that Donno (my dad) and I will sit at the kitchen table analyzing life over a few (read: many) rumbos. The rest of the week will include the Cabot Trail: Ingonish Beach, Baddeck, Loch Lomond, and (of course) chillaxin' by the pool. And if Capers are known for one thing it's their hospitality and having a good time. I'll be catching up with old friends and spending much needed annual quality time with the extended Munho clan.

The best part for me this time will be sharing it through the eyes of a 10 and 13 year old that have grown up in Ontario for most of their lives. I plan to soak up this quality time before Nova Scotia becomes a bore to them in their high school years. I have to say some of the best pictures of them were taken there - jumping off wharves, learning to dive in the pool, riding on their Aunts/Uncles four-wheelers and eating marshmallows at the campfires. I'm going to ensure we all do this again in the 5 short days we have together and live in every single tiny moment of laughter.

For those of you that have never been, let me be your ambassador for a moment. Enjoy:

Happy, Happy, Joy, Joy

2009-07-12T11:32:00.000-07:00

Leave it to an amazing run to put me in an incredible mood. I got home from an 8km run about an hour ago and I'm still high from it. That reason alone is why I've missed running so much, not so much for the fitness aspect, but what it does to my headspace and attitude. I've been working through an injury for 2.5 years now and today's run felt amazing - I feel hopeful and strong. And generally, just pretty damn happy about having such a great weekend. On Friday night I reconnected with an old friend, one that I haven't seen in 3 years - we spent the night laughing, reflecting and catching up. Last night was spent in Oakville at my friends Kevin and Adrienne - having vino, a great meal, good convo. Daws and I slept over - their new home is inviting, but not because of the walls but because of who's inside. Adrienne once said to me that even though my family is in NS and Ottawa, I also have my family here in Toronto. So many incredible friends that always invite me in, feed me and spoil me with love. All around just feeling happy and lucky today.

It's a humble feeling when you look at your life and know that you want for nothing and have everything.

And if I could make a mini-movie or a commercial to describe this feeling, it would look like this:

For Better, Not For Worse

2009-07-09T18:20:00.000-07:00

I just caught this documentary on CBC TV tonight and thought it was interesting given that I'm not a child of divorce. I'm completely impressed by good marriages, strong commitment and shared compromise. I do believe marriage is a fine balance of give and take and those that do it well are masters of the equilibrium and I'm in awe of it.

After 42 years of marriage, mom has told me that she loves dad more today than she ever did the day she married him. As someone who has personally never made it past 4 years of commitment in an intimate relationship, that comment impresses the beeejeebus out of me. But you can see that it's true when you're with them (well, some days). They respect each other. I've often said, when I look around the room and see the happiest couples, they all share ONE thing in common. They genuinely respect their partner - as a human, a professional, a lover, a friend, a brother/sister or parent. And while there will be years you don't love each other - you'd never hurt the other, because you respect them.

In watching this hour-long docu tonight, it broke my heart. There is nothing worse than losing love. The feeling is sad and sickening. And of the three couples on the show, I was effected most by this couple - you can clearly see he is checked-out and she is heart broken at the loss of the life she vowed to have with him...for better, or worse. Problem is the 'worse' arrived and one person broke a promise made during a time of love.

An ex of mine once told me, "it easy to love someone when they're at their best, it's at their worst when your test of true love really shows".

So, to my parents, my brother, Ali and BJ (who celebrated year 9 of marriage yesterday) and to all my friends in incredible relationships, I am impressed and in awe of the love you share. Remember that love and why you got married on those ugly days.

Or, on those ugly days, just give me a shout if you want a taste of the good life that you're missing. :)

Mr. That'll Do

2009-07-08T18:07:00.000-07:00

Every year I always give myself a goal of reading X amount of books. I try, oh how I try, to read at least a minimum of 3 'business or finance' related books, to quench my desire to be smarter tomorrow than I am today. Sometimes even making it to 3 is tough, but I typically make it with some leniency on my criteria. And in this annual quest, it is a prerequisite to include a few 'light and fluffy's' to that list, so that:

a) my brain doesn't implode

b) I make it to my goal faster

c) I don't get too smart

With that said, my recent interjection of a 'light & fluffy' was a book called, Mr. Maybe. Enough said, right? Look at you, already judging me. Anywhosie, I made it through this book in about 2 weeks (pretty fast for me) and although I tried to take it in stride there was one line in it that hit home. Hard.

By the title you've probably already guessed the plot and the climax - cute, successful, twenty-something female works in PR in the UK. She starts dating a guy that is adorable, they have tons of chemistry, he's funny, charming but his friends are losers, he has no job and lives in a shithole. He leaves her because he thinks he's not good enough for her. Then she meets a guy that is "perfect on paper" - older/more mature, great job, house, car, rich, super nice - but there is ZERO chemistry (christ, it's like my fucking autobiography). As she's about to marry this guy that she doesn't really love, her best friend sits her down and says, "Libby, don't do this - you're young, you're 27 and you have lots of time to find that perfect guy. I'd understand if you were 37 and making this decision."

Um, PARDON?

Ya, I get it...it's just a "light & fluffy", but when I read this line it felt like someone sucker punched me in the face. And of course it left me wondering when it ever became OK to compromise at any age.

Time to increase the 'business and finance' quotient in my book report.

the way you make me feel

2009-07-07T17:33:00.000-07:00

I know, I know. You're tired of hearing about Michael Jackson. You're frustrated that the media are hypocrites calling him a pervert when he was alive but a hero in death. Or maybe you're the one that firmly believes he was 'a freak' and doesn't deserve all of this fame or praise.

If you ask me, it's simply nice to celebrate life rather than think about our current state of living lately - the economy, homelessness and a recession. Maybe it's just me but I think it is an unfortunate, albeit nice, distraction to have us re-focus on what's important. Living properly. Although he couldn't live properly, he tried his best to teach us to do so. To enjoy the simple things, to be kind, to love unconditionally and to dance & sing.

Regardless of how we all feel individually, today is a massive day as we officially say goodbye in a global memorial to the King of Pop (now that title is one thing we can't argue about). I missed the live feeds today at work, so I'm sitting here watching it re-air and I'm crying like a baby. For many reasons, it's me - it's what I do. But, I also haven't experienced a memorial service or funeral in many, many years - thankfully. Michael's memorial is a reminder to me of that horrible feeling of letting go, saying goodbye to someone or something that impacted my life.

I've always been a naive, cheeseball. I'm often affected by pop culture and always, always impacted by people that are kind and have a huge heart. I've never understood people who lie, who are intentionally cruel or just generally deceitful. (It's probably why I love animals more than most humans). I truly believe Michael Jackson brought love and joy to us while he was here.

The words that hit home for me the most in the last two weeks were the words Marlon Jackson said today about his brother: that Michael always wanted to experience those simple moments in life that we all take for granted each and every day, basic living really. "Michael was judged and ridiculed so often - how much pain can one take? Maybe now, Michael, they will leave you alone".

I feel pure sadness when I look at these images side-by-side where he appears on the same stage in the Staples Centre, just one week apart. He was always on stage doing "this" for us, I just hope we didn't do "this" to him.

Goodbye MJ.

If you enter this world knowing you are loved and you leave this world knowing the same, then everything that happens in between can be dealt with.
- Michael Jackson

don't throw your junk in my backyard

2009-07-06T20:35:00.000-07:00

dear Toronto,

It's summer time. I know you can appreciate how much my love grows for you during these limited 90 days. I basque in the glory of your warmth and sunshine. You know I love you all year round, but c'mon, we've just had some dark snowy months together. Remember? Blech. So I ask you, what did I do to deserve this? It's Day 16 and your desire to not shower is literally making your skin crawl with maggots and I witnessed a rat running out from one of your manholes on an early morning run. I can't help but think, why now? Do you have to be difficult during our hottest months together?

To be honest, when I first met you and decided to give this relationship 'a go' I was a little leery. Initially you weren't that welcoming or friendly. Your mood was often grey and dreary. But I soon realized we were both in this together. And I too had to try harder. I knew it was in my best interest to give you my genuine true effort if this was going to work between us. Once I opened my eyes and changed my attitude, I saw all the things you had to offer - good food, biking and hiking trails, a plethora of parks, Lake Ontario, the waterfront, many special unique neighbourhoods, a colourful mix of cultures and, best of all, you were the conduit to bringing many more good things and people into my life. So, I know this is a small hiccup that we're going through - this need you have to be strong (or maybe even stubborn) to hold steadfast to certain beliefs - but please don't punish me for an issue that you have with other people.

I want the Toronto back that I fell in love with...sorry to be so cruel right now, but it must be said, you stink.

Forever yours,

Cheryl

fasten your seatbelts

2009-07-04T08:02:00.000-07:00

I thought I'd keep this blog a bit 'light' compared to the last few entries. And what can be more light than a stroll down a memory land of big hair, tight jeans and a crapload of hairspray.

Tonight I'm about to step back in time to 1988, and perhaps even venture all the way up to 1991. These were my junior high and high school years and although my love for music was comprised of a wide range of individuals, I was heavily influenced by glam rock. I'm pretty sure much of that was a result of my brother's life long dream to be Eddie Van Halen. Therefore, my first big-haired crush was David Lee Roth.

My brother's room was in the basement of our house and he spent hours and days down there listening (on record, of course) to everything from Bon Jovi to Black Sabbath. But one of our mutual favs....Def Leppard. And let's face it, everyone loved Poison...well at least everyone has an affinity to "Every Rose has it's Thorn".

Tonight, I get to re-live the experience at the Molson Ampitheatre here in Toronto. It's a cougars dream - a triple bill of super cheese and amazing rock - Cheap Trick, Poison and Def Leppard. I'm not sure what will be more entertaining - the music or the fans.

one step away from crazy

2009-07-01T18:55:00.001-07:00

Let me begin by saying that I'm not a religious person. Rather, I'm an incredibly spiritual person. I believe that a higher power is not something that is out of the realm of possibility in this universe. In fact, I believe these higher powers are all around us each and every day. We just misinterpret their presence.

Although I was raised in a combo Catholic/Protestant household, I definitely don't claim to know much about the teachings of the bible, nor can I wrap my head around all the "God's" that exist globally within each faith. What I do know is that we're all in it for love. Maybe not big worldwide love, but love within our own communities - whomever we believe them to be based on colour, religion, taste or status. It's safe to say we turn to religion to give us faith and hope because without them we can often find it hard to carry on when we're faced with the ugly truths within this world.

Whether we like it or not, Michael Jackson's death has caused us all to stop for a moment, even if very brief, to think about humanity. Yes, he's 'just a pop star', but his message for the last 40 years was beyond music. Personally, I've been bummed this past week, not so much about the loss of one individual, but what his loss means and represents. Sure, the King has fallen over the years, but it was slow and painful and we all took a front row seat to watch it happen. Chronologically we saw a metamorphosis in his physical appearance, we watched him become a recluse and we listened to tales from parents and children accusing him of horrific, unspeakable things. And I wonder, did we do this to him? My dad always taught me about taking accountability for my own life at a certain age and while I agree with him, does this situation still apply for Michael? In many ways, this person (from the little I know of him) was put in a position quite different from the rest of us. One that lacks genuine nurturing and normalcy. And even without those things, it was obvious that he wanted to give love and to be loved, that he wanted to be child and he wanted children to live like children. He was a strong presence. He wanted to say more to us, but we broke him down over time. We silenced him.

As I started thinking about him, I then thought of Princess Diana, Nelson Mandela, Martin Luther King and Jesus Christ. Why is it that whenever we look at individuals that have the power to hold a global conch, that speak the 'gospel' of love, music, peace and a brotherhood, we think they're a bit crazy? Crazy for their believes, their courage, strength, their relentless and exhaustive efforts to believe in a beautiful, innocent world. We want to abuse them and take them down. On the flipside, I can then close my eyes and honestly see the countless number of homeless faces I pass in the run of a month and think about when I make eye contact with them - they always smile at me and express words of endearment, peace and love. Often their words are not that different than the words spoken in scripture, history books and in lyrics. And we, yes we, definitely look at these people and think they're crazy too.

We continue to try and take down these various higher powers that are present in our everyday life when we really should just be directing our simple faith and hope in their pure goodness and love.

So, who's really crazy here? C'mon, show of hands....

867-5309

2009-06-25T17:34:00.000-07:00

Since my birthday last week, I've been having a love/hate relationship with technology and how it's taking over our lives at a pace that I find unfathomable. I feel like each day that passes I'm less 'connected' in a world where I have more than enough options to stay connected.

The realization happened when my cell phone rang at work on the afternoon of June 18th and I saw the area code 403. I smiled; it was Dwyer. Sean Dwyer and I have been friends since 1985. Let me take you back to that moment we first 'met', so please, bare with me. The first time I truly 'noticed' Dwyer was in Mr. Hawrylak's Grade 5 class. It wasn't simply because he was the 'new kid' in town, it was because this kid was funny. Not class-clown-jackass-type-funny, but smart-intelligent funny. And at this time we were studying poetry. Mr. Hawrylak was a reading a poem to the class and every second line was "I feel joy." i.e. - "I wake up in the morning. I feel joy. I see the sunset at night. I feel joy"...you get the picture. When Mr. Hawrylak finished reading the poem and explained it's meaning he asked if there were any questions. Dwyer raised his hand. The room was silent, everyone was staring at the new kid wondering what he was going to ask. He said, "Sir, who's Joy?" The class erupted in laughter. I knew from that day forward Dwyer was my kind of peeps.

Our friendship has endured many, many more tales which took us through puberty, high school fights and dances, drinking underage in the woods, sticking up for him when he'd get crazy drunk in university, living in Calgary and learning what's it's like to be a young professionals together, attending his wedding, always being 'one of his boys', being the butt of his jokes and then recently seeing him become a dad. And through all of that, the one area where Dwyer has never ever let me down is the annual birthday phone call. No matter where we are or what is going on in our lives, he remembers and picks up the phone to call. And, for some reason, this year I noticed just how special a phone call can be.

Maybe it's because I have a heightened sensitivity to technology and communication because I'm fresh into a new job that is solely focused on bringing consumer experiences to life on the world wide web. I'm tasked with creating a two-way "dialogue" strictly through a computer and/or the many mobile devices we carry with us daily. Maybe it's because today I discovered that Farrah Fawcett and Michael Jackson died via facebook and twitter. And that made me wonder if we will ever say again, "Do you remember where you were and who you were with when....?" in a time when we continue to get immediate information delivered to the palm of our hand. Or maybe I'm simply getting old and nostalgic.

I'm blessed to have such a large circle of friends and I've always prided myself on the fact that they've referred to me as "the glue". I don't want to lose this title. And I know we are all aware of how difficult it is to stay in touch as the years go on, to be relevant to each others changing, dynamic lives and to ensure there is reason to be 'sticky enough' to make our friendships endure. But my big fear is that the benefits of technology just might take away from what's real. The human emotion and connection. Frankly, I just want to pick up the phone and feel joy.

I wanna take a ride on your disco stick

2009-06-22T12:58:00.000-07:00

Back in 1988, in my wee hometown of 30,000 people, there used to be these massive video dances held at Centre 200 for all the jr. high school kids in the surrounding area. They only happened, at a max, twice a year and they were HUGE (literally and figuratively). Kids from Glace Bay, New Waterford, Sydney Mines and Sydney would all come to these dances hoping to get drunk, "wheel someone" (that meant 'pick-up', 'score', 'cop a feel', etc), get in a fight or all of the above.

It was at this time in my life when my mom introduced censorship to me. Sad but true, I wasn't allowed to watch Madonna's "Like A Prayer" video. My mom definitely wore the pants in the family when it came to how we were raised and disciplined (sorry, dad). With her very own strict Catholic upbringing, I think it was due to the selection of images where: Madonna had crucifixion holes in her hands, she was scantily clad and/or the fact that she had sexual chemistry with Jesus himself (not to mention the burning cross in the background). So when "Like A Prayer" came up on the massive video screen in the arena, my girlfriend Leah shouted to all my friends standing together in a group, "everyone, let's get Cheryl out of here - she can't see what's happening on the screen!". My friends laughed, I laughed. I was mortified.

And then last night, I find myself listening (and watching) Lady Ga Ga perform "Disco Stick" in front of all the tweens at the Much Music Video Awards. They are all singing along to "let's have some fun, this beat is sick, I wanna take a ride on your disco stick". I think of my twelve-year-old niece and I'm aghast. There's no metaphor in "disco stick", trust me I've racked my brain. And then it goes on, "I'm educated in sex, yes. And now I want it bad". Ummm, Ga Ga's core fan-base is equivalent to the Jonas Brothers?? This is messed up. And then I realize it, I find myself relating to my mother - Jesus Christ (pardon the pun), what's happening to me?! So, there was only one way to deal with this situation. I downloaded the song to my ipod.

goodbye, demographic box "Age 25-34"

2009-06-17T16:36:00.000-07:00

Today was the day I said goodbye to 34, forever. Please don't think for a second that I'm sad about leaving my early thirties, because I welcome "35" with open arms. Oddly enough, my worst birthday to date was "25" - doesn't that say everything? Good lord. Every year of my life, I'm more grateful and rewarded with the sweetest things - love, a great family and amazing friends.

Normally, I don't like to put myself into a box, I prefer to always live outside of it. But today, I've realized I'm just jumping from one box to the next. From this day forward, for every race form I fill out, or every survey I participate in - I'm officially into the next box.

So, to you "34", I feel you deserve a credible, honorable 'thank you' for one of the best years of my life-

A solo trip to Peru - hiking to Machu Pichhu, living with a family and working with street kids
NYC in the Fall with great friends for a weekend of debauchery
an xmas trip to Nova Scotia - spending quality time with mom and dad, and my many NS friends
Santiago, Chile for work and incredible experience
LA for my birthday and a KRAC Reunion which was 7 years in the making
NYC again for 35 and a visit with Ren...2 days and counting
the birth of Lola and getting to be there for her arrival into the world, a complete and amazing surprise
along with the birth of Carly and Finn - for two of my other best guy friends that I never thought would 'grow up'
the birth of sweet Olivia - for Kev and Ady
Nancy announcing that Jack will get to be a big brother
Sweet smiling Cate being born into the awesome Munroe Clan.
Running, after I didn't think I could (and some days still don't) - only to race in a 5 and 10km again
Having the balls to chop all my hair off after wanting to for years!
Developing new friendships (at an age when you think you have enough friends)
Opening my mind and heart to different kinds of love (every shape, size and form)
Having Toni come to visit me for the first time ever since I've lived in TO (and Nance here too to celebrate our friendship)
Being asked to be the MC of Jennie and Dave's wedding in Mexico 2010.
seeing George and Jude fight through some scary health concerns and coming out the other side smiling. yay!
watching my best friend finally take on the career he's always dreamed of!
and for me, taking on a new path career-wise that continues to be pleasantly surprising.
seeing Mel, Chris and Todd turn "40" - only proving that it's something to look forward to.

ps - "35", bring. it. on.

simple math

2009-06-16T19:54:00.000-07:00

music + kids + inspiring teacher = indescribable happiness.

these videos leave me speechless and, in a weird way, proud? And frankly, they kick Susan Boyle's ass in the category of 'moving me emotionally and generally be grateful that good, real people are everywhere'. Watch every kid in these videos - completely living in the moment.

they owe their new-found fame to Perez Hilton, so given that bit of news...you may have viewed them before.

click here to learn more about the choir and their teacher

you spin me right 'round, baby

2009-06-15T17:52:00.000-07:00

There are two big handfuls of blogs that I follow, half of which are my dear friends (the other half are just super cool). Today I noticed a new entry that my friend Marty posted which fascinated me because it was one of my favourite topics of interest: the universe. (in case you're wondering my other two favs are religion and history). For me, what these three topics all have in common is that once I'm in a discussion I could talk and talk and talk forever. And I crave hearing other people's opinions and can listen for days. I don't think there is any one topic I would ever claim to master in life, and with these three I know so very little of each, because their depth is infinite. I just want to know more or discuss what might be possible.

Marty posted a similar video to this one - which reminds us just how teeny tiny our wee planet is within the entire universe.

When I watch this it makes me feel like any bad day I experience is completely laughable. It makes me believe nothing can't be overcome. On the flip side, I can't help but wonder in the 'year 2009' where social media is all about 'building a community' and belonging with others - why can't we all just get along in this tiny place. After all, it's our collective home. So why so much hate? Year over year we continue to live through senseless battles and I still don't know what "we" are fighting - what comes after world domination in this landscape?

And aside from what's happening in the world today, history is completely top of mind for me these last few weeks as I just finished reading "Inside the Third Reich" and "The Unbearable Lightness of Being". Both are completely different novels but both are told in a setting where the backdrop is war. And within one story there is simple love to give and receive between two people, but it's smothered by toxic hate, distrust, blood, death and ignorance.

It's next to impossible not to wonder what role "God", "Allah", "Buddha" and religion play in our life. And although these 'beings' are supposed to give us hope and faith, in the end are they just responsible for it all? And do they only reside over our one wee planet - because how could they possibly have the time to manage the universe?! (sounds a bit like Santa Clause to me -hey, fool me once...)

As we rotate the sun each year - I'm starting to feel dizzy and worry that the walls are closing in on us. But when I look back at history, this is nothing new here in our setting, in our story today. The problem is we're re-enacting the same play. The more intelligent we become, the less intelligent we are.

moderate wow factor

2009-06-14T16:03:00.001-07:00

In my line of work, when we're about to launch a new "innovative" product, we test the concept with consumers first to ensure there is a strong demand and a perceived need for it.

This week I noticed that there is a section of the testing dedicated to getting a read on the "wow factor", this is otherwise know as "the innovation" and what makes it really unique. This particular product that I was reviewing had it's highest score in the "Moderate Wow Factor" category. Pardon? Did you say, "Moderate Wow Factor" - really? What the hell does that mean when you pair moderate with "wow" anyway? Isn't that more like the "meh" factor?

In my humble opinion, the visceral feeling you get the second you experience anything with a wow'd reaction should never be the pulled back by moderation. You get the wow from it's pureness, it's coolness, it's appeal and perhaps even it's breath-taking presence. You shouldn't have to try and minimize that feeling. You either feel the wow or you don't, plain and simple. Nothing is better than the full-force of a wow-zah! Celebrate it and get excited about it. The minute you feel a moderate level of excitement - then becomes "less so" and the energy is lost.

My vote: we don't buy it, we don't market it, we don't sell it. Let's not try to kid ourselves if we think anything will fly off the shelves with a "moderate wow factor".

wonder woman

2009-06-10T19:02:00.000-07:00

Growing up, Wonder Woman was my idol. Her big beautiful hips, her not-so-typical brown hair and the fact that she could shoot lightening from her wrists - so kickass. I was a hardcore fan. My best friend Alison and I used to having matching Wonder Woman bathing suits when we were four years-old, not to mention underroos too. Back in 1979, my 16-yr old neighbour, Karen used to tell us that during 'magical hide and seek' (where we'd spin around with our eyes closed until Karen disappeared) she'd end up on another planet where she met...you guessed it, Wonder Woman. Alison and I were in awe. Little did we know, Karen was probably watching Welcome Back Kotter in her basement just trying to escape the annoying neighbourhood kiddies.

Wonder Woman currently lives in my living room now in a big black frame; she has also lived above my bed for some time until she intimated a few guests. Regardless, she's not going away and she's still keepin' on.

As I get older, I see that Wonder Woman lives on in many different ways, through many other incredible women. Judy Hennessey is one of my Wonder Women and one of my many special mammas. I won't sing her praises here, because unlike her son, she's modest (who loves ya, Leo!). All you need to know is that this woman had already seen enough shit in the last few years, without cancer having to come knock on her door for one last 'hoooo-raahh'. With her lightening bolts beaming from her wrists, her fading brown hair and beautiful hips - she's kicked cancers ass just like every other piece-of-shit 'disease' that tried to run her down.

You remain beautiful with that stunning smile, Jude. You won.

amazing photos from Liam

Love you.xo

sunny side up

2009-06-07T10:20:00.000-07:00

OK, this wouldn't be the first time that I've talked about how rare it is when we, as human beings, meet or see someone that has a magical spark. And I've talked about this chemistry between two people and what it stirs within us. But then there are those people that we see on TV, in concert, or on a stage that are simply beautiful, captivating, inspiring and we never forget how they make us feel in a moment, or forever.

This happened to me the first time I saw Paolo Nutini. I was on a flight from Vegas to Toronto three years ago and I was watching the Today Show on the satellite station on Air Canada. Matt Lauer was interviewing this 20-year old kid from Scotland that was just making his debut in North America and with an incredibly thick accent he was remarkably engaging. I instantly wanted to know the history of this kid and to hear more of his music.

I bought the CD immediately, listened to it daily and proceeded to buy tickets to his shows. I saw him in Vancouver and bought a ticket to see him in Chicago with Amy Winehouse, but unfortunately the show was canceled because Amy did really end up going to rehab.

Anyway, hard to believe it's 3 years later and he continues to get better, his voice is even huskier and more eclectic. Sunny Side Up is his latest CD and I've been listening to it over and over again for the last 24 hours. It hasn't been getting great reviews, but I find that a 'professional critic' of anything is typically a wanker. Standing on their soapbox trying to read into all the finer details behind the meaning and sound of an album (or a movie for that matter). If his fan base (and then some) have incredible feelings for what they hear, that's all that matters, no? Lord, it's like asking a focus group to tell you to 'evaluate' a TV commercial. Bollocks, I say.

Sunny Side Up, makes me happy. Paolo's inspiration was just the simple, straight-forward things in life that we should bask in to make us happy and live our lives beautifully. And he sells these words through a folksy-reggae-hillbilly kind of way. A man after my own heart and a right-ole-soul.

kids vs dogs

2009-06-06T07:22:00.000-07:00

I often hear from my friends that there is nothing that beats the feeling of having your 'babies' come into your bedroom on a Sat morning, asking you if they can hop up in the bed and snuggle. I know that it's a treat for them when they get to share the big bed. I actually remember doing it with my own parents when I was small.

Ever since Dawson was a pup, she's had the luxury of sleeping in the same bed with me, a bad habit I know. But in the last year, as she gets older and her hair becomes more of a nuisance, I've been working on having her sleep on the floor. She's been doing a great job, proving that you can teach an old dog new tricks. In fact, we might have to run to Canadian Tire today to get her a new bed since the current one is pancake flat.

But this morning I made an exception, I had a dream about her last night where I left her tied outside to a pole, down the street and around the corner. I remember in my dream I was finding a spot as if it was a parking space, because it was the only spot 'left' for her on the street. It started snowing, big time. It was the next day and I forgot about her being out there and when I remember it was mid-afternoon - I was with friends (and their kids) at the time and I dropped what I was doing and left immediately. She was there waiting for me, and even after what I did she was so excited to see me...covered in snow and wagging her tail. I'm pretty sure that would be her reaction in 'real life' too.

I'm not sure what this all means - if I've been feeling guilty about keeping her on the floor at night? Lord, I'd obviously be a wreck if I had kids - just thinking about how much I love this damn dog. So, after waking up this morning and looking over the side of the bed to see her lying there...I oozed motherly guilt and asked her to come up on the bed for a quick cuddle. Just like the kids, I know she too finds it a treat because she's still lying there.

the power of being relevant

2009-06-04T19:17:00.000-07:00

then, and today...

come on, the beatles in Rock Band. i love smart people.

F to the Y....Sgt Pepper was recorded over a 129-day period and was released in June 1967.

the road not taken

2009-06-02T16:31:00.000-07:00

I received an email today from my first mentor in 'the business'. Richard was the agency producer at Ogilvy & Mather and had been for many years at that time. As the newly appointed creative coordinator, I was also deemed 50% his 'bitch'. (the other 50% of me was owned by the Creative Director). This was back in 1997 and I'm happy that 12 years later, Richard and I still keep in touch today. I was a smart-ass kid just out of school, so stoked to work at a global advertising agency, but not so keen to take on some of my more menial tasks. Richard taught me many things - about friendship, about passion in what you do and about doing your best... in any job. Back then (and for years to follow), I was pretty sure I wanted to follow in his footsteps and be an agency producer.

In 2000, after 3 years of still having that dream on my mind, I was back in NS working at the only job that I have ever truly hated. I thought that more education was the practical answer to reaching my goal. So, I applied to the "Radio and Television Arts" program at Ryerson. I remember needing to write an essay and provide a few key references. Of course, I called Richard. He obliged and as it turns out I got accepted. But, simultaneously I received an amazing new job offer working on the Alexander Keith's brand. This real life experience delayed, eventually even canceled my admission to go back to school. So...

The reason for Richard's email to me today? He found the reference letter that he wrote for my application. In addition to sending this along, he of course followed it up with a very caring and inquisitive, "how are you anyway, arsehole?"

To whom it may concern:

It has been my pleasure to have worked with Cheryl during her stay in Calgary while working at Ogilvy & Mather Advertising. During her time at O&M she demonstrated a tremendous interest in all facets of advertising, but most specifically broadcast production.

An able student, she learned about production quickly and was soon responsible for producing retail TV commercials for Canada Safeway, a large western grocery chain, and radio commercials for Shell Canada and TELUS.

Unfortunately, another career opportunity took her back to her home province, Nova Scotia. She and I have stayed in touch and have had several conversations about production and her passion to one day be an Agency Producer.

As a former student of Ryerson, I can honestly represent Cheryl by saying that I know that her refreshing attitude, straightforward working style and dedication are exactly the characteristics and qualities that make successful producers and directors in the marketplace. The way she has gelled with every person on the set is a reflection of her great sense of humor and her ability to work with various differing personalities. I strongly recommend Cheryl to the program and I grin when I say that she will make you laugh because she is truly unique.

Best regards,

Richard

Manager, Broadcast Productions

Today, I'm not an agency or line producer, but I am still very happy working in advertising. While I don't have any regrets with my path, I do wonder what the bulk of my days would have been like...

Tropic Thunder 'You're My Brother' Clip @ Yahoo! Video

40% chance of sunshine

2009-06-01T18:57:00.000-07:00

This afternoon I had a very enlightening conversation with a very old friend of mine and for the sake of anonymity, let's call him "Fudge". Fudge and I go way back to the summer of 1988 when we used to drink Spumante behind the Cromerty tennis courts in Sydney, smoke menthol ciggies and admire each others yellowy-orange bleached hair, compliments of "Sun-In".

Where Fudge and I grew up, friendship isn't taken lightly. Capers are known to have each others backs at the drop of a (trucker) hat and would defend you in a bar fight in two seconds flat, even if you were the one that started it. Capers will always show up to the party with booze in hand, never mind that this booze is theirs to drink, in fact, I'm pretty sure we coined the term BYOB. This is probably the reason to why I never heard of an 'open bar' until I became an adult and moved to the main land. Anyway, I digress.... Point is, regardless of how much time passes and what happens in our fast-paced adult lives - it's always great catchin up with my true, honest and refreshing Caper: Fudge. His humour hasn't changed a lick and his ability to be a 'no-show' is like no other. But I love him. We all love him. And today, I missed him.

Unfortunately this afternoon, I discovered Fudge's dad passed away via Facebook. I witnessed the condolences being passed along on my 'news feed' to Fudge's Wall from another old high school friend. I decided to take the old school approach, I grabbed my phone and called him. It was important for me to reach out, talk to him and send a huge virtual hug across 2.5 provinces . Although I knew the time wasn't ideal for him to chat, good ole Fudge stayed on the phone to chat regardless of the chaos I could hear around him. We spent half of our time talking about his dad, but the other half talking about life stuff and how sometimes being an adult really sucks. We talked about how easy it is to run from our problems but so damn hard to stay close and work through them. We talked about the battle of positivity and how difficult it can be to remain hopeful when our world often tries to push bad news on us.

Now, I'm not sure if Fudge holds the copyrights to this quote, but tonight he rendered me silent in a moment when he said, "even when you listen to the weather forecast, you always hear there is going to be 60% chance of rain, but you never hear that there will be 40% chance of sunshine."

Friend, the sun is shining on your dad this week - high above the hills in Cape Breton. And if it's only 40% , it's better than no sunshine at all.

my mulberry street

2009-05-30T06:55:00.000-07:00

There are many people that have impacted my life in a significant way, even rocked my world (yes, this is both good and bad). Then there were others that have just said a few short words to me that I've clung to forever as words of wisdom. But being a humble, naive, simple girl from a small town in the east coast, I've never really thought I had the capability to leave a long-lasting memory or impact on someones life.

There are so many things I remember from my childhood, to my teenage years to now - but as I get older there are so many things I forget. And when people try and stir your memory and you still can't remember, it's actually kind of scary (not to be confused with a blackout from drinking, albeit that's scary too). A few years ago I took a creative writing course at George Brown, where our short stories were based on real life situations. I remember our teacher saying to us, "how do we really know for sure with some of our memories being so far back in time if they really did exist". That concept fucks with my mind, because if you don't have proof to back an old memory, it's true - did it really happen? I remember testing this theory about a plant we had in our third year of university. Now the reason I remember this so well is because I can't save a plant, maintain a plant or grow a plant - pathetic really. But this was Rhonda's plant and every time it was literally on death's door, I'd water it and it would grow back to life...almost instantaneously...no joke. So, when I asked the girls about it recently, all three of them couldn't remember the god damn plant. Now, I know what you're thinking, it was university and I was high all the time. Not true(ish). I'm telling you this really did happen, but sadly I have no proof of the memory other than what's inside my wee old head.

This week, my past came into my present in a very surreal way. I re-connected with someone I impacted in both good and bad ways (sadly, I think, more bad than good). Apparently, I hurt this person to a point where they harboured feelings for years, which is crushing because I know how horrible that can be. Fortunately we cleared everything up, I told the story from my point of view (now and then) and that person did the same for me.

Time is a funny and amazing thing. From my memory, I'm pretty sure I was explicit back then about my feelings and felt I articulated them in a way that person would understand. To be honest, I think it was just time and living life that caused that person to re-evaluate our situation.

Very few people have that opportunity in life to face someone or something from their past to let them know they've made an impact and reconcile, if need be. I think we both felt lucky and grateful for what happened this week. Sometimes I wish I had that chance myself, but I'm also happy to just keep moving forward, putting all my memories (tangible or not) in my basket of life.

Why I love my dad so much

2009-05-28T17:39:00.000-07:00

I sent my "Check Yes or No" blog to my dad last night...this was his response in email today:

Hi Cheryl..... Nice blog....love George Strait he's a throw back to the "ole" Country...he just recently passed Conway Twitty for the most no one country hits which was 56. Check out "Murder on Music Row" with Alan Jackson ..That tells it all in a song. Keep on listening to the good stuff....check Yes or No. Love Dad

Do you not see why I love this man? Shit, he's the best.

So, I went to YouTube to watch "Murder on Music Row" and found a version by George Strait and Alan Jackson...saweet. After you watch and read, you'll see what I mean, dad is ALWAYS right about the lyrics to country music. This song does say it all. Listening to it and thinking about why my dad loves it make me teary (yes, I know...I'm in touch with my emotions). Hope, on some level, you feel the same way....or at least see the perspective from a real musician.

And, of course, the lyrics:

Nobody saw them running
From 16th Avenue
They never found the fingerprints
Or the weapon that was used
But someone killed country music
Cut out its heart and soul
They got away with murder
Down on music row
The almight dollar
And the lust for worldwide fame
Slowly killed tradition
And for that, someone shouldhang ("Ahh, you tell 'em Alan")
They all say "Not Guilty!"
But the evidence will show
That murder was committed
Down on music row
For the steel guitars no longer cry
And the fiddles barely play
But drums and rock 'n' roll guitars
Are mixed up in your face
Ol' Hank wouldn't have a chance
On today's radio
Since they committed murder
Down on music row
They thought no one would miss it
Once it was dead and gone
They said no one would buy them ol'
Drinkin' and cheatin' songs ("Oh, but I still buy 'em")
Well there ain't no justice in it
And the hard facts are cold
Murder's been committed
Down on music row
Why they even tell the Possum
To pack up and go back home
There's been an awful murder
Down on music row

check yes or no

2009-05-27T18:22:00.000-07:00

I'm sitting here watching the "George Strait All-Star Tribute" on TV and I'm completely in my element because no one loves country music more than this kid right here. It's the one genre of music that people have a preconceived notion of what the audience demographic should look like...umm, did I mention I also still love cowboy boots? Anyway, I'm not talking about the 'new stuff' like Montgomery-whatever-their-called, Carrie Underwood or even Shania Twain (in fact, Keith Urban & Tim McGraw might be my only exceptions to this rule). I'm talking about Waylon, Willie, Johnny, Charlie, Garth, Kenny, Dolly, Hank and George. The stuff dad and I listened to growing up. Sure they get a bad reputation for singing about simple things like trucks, booze and cheatin', but hells isn't that what life (and I mean real life) is all about? Regardless, the thing I love about country music and the notion of the Grand Ole Opry is that there is something so very real and pure in the music and the lyrics. Further proof of this for me, is the endless number of times dad has called me on the phone to say, "Cheryl, have you heard the new song and really listened to the lyrics of (insert country song here) - they're so true and beautiful". And, he was always right.

Basically, the old stuff is not overproduced, over marketed or fabricated. I started thinking about this tonight when listening to one of my sweet favs of George's - a more recent song, "Check yes or no".

It started way back in third grade
I used to sit beside Emmy Lou Hayes
A pink dress, a matching bow in her ponytail
She kissed me on the school bus, but told me not to tell
Next day I chased her around the playground
Across the monkey bars to the merry-go-round
And Emmy Lou got caught passing me a note, before the teacher took it, I read what she wrote:

Do you love me, do you wanna be my friend?
And if you do, well then don't be afraid to take me by the hand, if you want to.
I think this is how love goes, check yes or no

Now we're grown up and she's my wife
Still like two kids with stars in our eyes
Ain't much changed I still chase Emmy Lou
Up and down the hall, around the bed in our room
Last night I took her out in a white limousine
Twenty years together she still gets to me
Can't believe it's been that long ago
When we got started with just a little note

Isn't it incredible to know this is how we're introduced to love for the first time, and ideally wouldn't it be so quaint if it always remained, for all of us, this way: simple, honest and forthcoming.

ps - George might have the most adorable smile in the music biz.

happiness is...

2009-05-25T17:31:00.000-07:00

Every now and then I get inspired to create a piece of "art" that encompasses a themed collection of memories that brought me significant happiness during a period of my life. Like the collage of running bibs, maps and pics mounted above my bed from all my races over the last 10 years. But unfortunately there are times when these pieces of art live only as a thought and never come to life. Like the shadow-box of odds and ends from my hike on the Inca Trail, which would include my walking stick that supported me for four long days.

Today's art: no theme. just happiness. various things, in many forms and not from one particular event. It came to me from looking at pictures from yesterday - Todd, Matt, Mya and Cara skipping outside the house. Skipping. hhhhhmmmm. I started thinking about all the super duper simple teeny weeny things that make me scream with happy. So this is next on my 'creative-to-do list', but one thing is for sure - if it comes to life in video form the soundtrack will be "Bubble Toes" by Jack Johnson. I dare you to listen to that song and a) not feel happy and b) not move like a jellyfish.

stay tuned on my high-priced artwork.

how can you not love this season

2009-05-23T16:14:00.000-07:00

So many people love the crispy cool air of Fall, the warm sweaters and getting cozy indoors. But in the span of three short weeks, this is the scene developing outside of my living room window. The freshness, greenness, newness of Spring gives me optimism and excitement for all the new experiences that happen each year.

Happy Spring, enjoy it Toronto before the smog seeps in.

Like a Rock

2009-05-22T12:48:00.000-07:00

The weird thing about history is that it happens in the present moment. And it touched me yesterday in a way that I never believed would happen in my short lifetime.

I called home to catch up with my parents; dad answered the phone and I could tell something was wrong. He was irritable, frustrated and although he would never admit it...on some level, confused. He shared the news with me that the GM dealership that he's worked for the last 10 years received their letter from head office in Oshawa that they were one of 240 dealers to close their doors. While some of you may feel on a grander scale this was owed or deserving to the corporation, what you might forget is all the people in all the towns and communities across THIS country that work their ass off to make GM a success. These people, to some extent, have no impact on the decisions that have been made to bring the corporation to it's knees. Their pride and dedication is birthed from a desire to be providers to their family, to have a successful career and to have a company that employs people in that town and community.

Dad has worked for GM for 30+ years, previously at another dealership in my hometown. I grew up with General Motors. It's more than a car company to me - it represents my dad, it represents my family, it represents so many incredible childhood memories. When I was in elementary school, dad used to have to work the odd Saturday. My brother and I would go in with him to the office and we would sit in the cars in the showroom and pretend we were racing each other. We'd always fight over who got the camero with the top down. When I was sixteen, my first job was working the reception desk for 3 weeks in the summer and answering the switchboard for the salesmen, parts, service, finance and the used-car lot. I loved that job and listening to John, Robert, Big Jim and old Haddon talk about how cranky 'my old man was sitting upstairs in his office'. Even thinking back to that building I can say that GM has a rich smell - the combination of the oil, gas and rubber. And when I walk into a GM dealership anywhere in Canada now the smell is consistent and brings me back to Disco Street in Sydney, Nova Scotia. GM IS my dad and what he (and it) stand for - strength, hardworking, commitment and loyal. GM is my university education, my original home on Beechwood, it's the pool in my parents backyard, my family cars and even my value system.

In my adult life, my affinity for the company continued to grow when dad changed dealerships and went to work in Glace Bay, Nova Scotia for Carlo. Not only was dad seeing the happiest years of his life, but he had made an incredible friend. Carlo has been so good to me - from providing me with sexy Aleros and sassy Aveos, to taking care of my sweet Daws on drives from the Cape to Halifax. Carlo was a boss, a friend and a professional advice-taker to my dad. So, GM is way more than a big American company, a country music song, rugged trucks or construction workers. It is a touch, a smell, a family and a passion.

Carlo, remember that from big change, even tradegy, comes sunshine and strength. Hold on to your memories and everything you've built, be proud and strong.

This too shall pass and return again?

2009-05-21T11:51:00.000-07:00

According to Wikipedia, “Eternal Return” is a concept which posits that the universe has been recurring, and will continue to recur in a self-similar form an infinite number of times. There is something within this concept (and the very little I know about it) that I find so incredibly gut-wrenching, yet completely stunning. Imagine if we could give the best (even the worst) moments of our life to the lives lived after ours or if we are living the life of those that already existed - what a mind-blowing thought. In an indirect way, I was introduced to this concept this past weekend and believe there is some connection with how it relates to my desire to live like a freebird.

As you know, I just spent the last six days in Los Angeles. It was, by far, a trip of a lifetime. Last year, I made a pact with myself to embrace my age and celebrate it each year in a big way. It began on my 34th with a solo trip to Machu Pichhu, and this year by sharing it in LA with some of my closest girlies. As you can imagine, the two experiences were vastly different, but remarkable in their own unique ways. While Peru was spiritual, LA was magical. From not skipping a beat with life-long friends (that I haven’t seen in years), to making new ones, experiencing different lifestyles, living 100% in the moment without fear of judgement, decision-making without inhibitions, learning new things from amazing new people and experiencing a surreal earthquake. The combination of the many events was remarkable, unforgettable and completely serendipitous.

As if I didn't know this already, this trip was affirmation that I’ve arrived at a place in my life where I’m beyond confident in my decisions and have not one regret. I feel that although my life and choices are different than those that my friends make, they are truly meant to be made for me and my little ole existence.

So while 'all of the above' may sound like complete fromage to you and you might think that it's a simple case of suffering from post-good-times-blues. How shall I say this... you're wrong. The friend that introduced me to the eternal return concept is a ‘true, professional writer’ - in a related conversation he told me that words are never good enough to express an energy you feel or even the chemistry between certain people. Kinda of sad hearing this from a writer, but he's so right. No matter how hard I try, I cannot express it in words. I'm aware that the energy experienced in this past weekend was rare, but thankfully it comes around just enough that I know how and when to clutch it tightly. These tiny incredible sparks are fleeting and magical, not to be missed and savoured for your memory to remind you how painfully beautiful life really can be.

When I started this blog back in April, I mentioned that I’ve wanted to mark my body with this too shall pass. On Friday, May 15, I walked into Zulu Tattoo and was happy to see that I got to lie on a medical bed, basically because I have passed out at the sight of a needle and blood many times in my life. Ironically, knowing where I 'was' and how happy I am at this stage, I never felt more relaxed lying there getting inked. It was euphorhic.

So, I pray that 'eternal return' does exist and that I’m re-enacting someone else's sweet ass life, only to pass it on proudly to the next.

72 hours to go

2009-05-11T20:08:00.001-07:00

It will be the first time in seven years since Kirst, Rhonda, Al and I will be together again as KRAC, just like old times(ish) under one roof. The countdown to L.A. is on and I can hardly sleep. In fact, just like exam week in university, I've spent my entire night preparing my gift instead of doing a million other pressing things on my 'to-do' list.

You see, about 3 months ago, I suggested that it would be a good idea if we all brought a little giftie for each of us to remember the trip, the reunion and our 35th Birthdays. Ironically, Rhonda the working mother of two (and pregnant with the third on the way, I might add) was the first to get hers...so the rest of us are scramblin'. In fact, I'm sure Kirst is at the Dollar store right now.

I can't tell you too much in terms of the details and the inspiration, since it's 'sort of' a surprise, but this is a hint of my wee contribution...

yo, mama!

2009-05-09T18:38:00.000-07:00

There was a time not so long ago that the only woman I thought of on this day was my very own mom. Without a doubt, she is most definitely the first woman that comes to mind on this day. And it’s one of those days within the year where the distance to Cape Breton Island seems a world apart.

But over the last number of years, there are so many incredible women in my life that are amazing mommies. And I’m lucky enough to share in their joys, sorrows, tears and happiness in all that it takes to be a mama. I can honestly say, with conviction, I never tire of their stories and I’m the one always pressuring them to send new pics of the kids. So, while I don’t have children of my own, I do feel blessed to know things like: gripe water is liquid sanity; you sleep when they sleep; toilet training begins around two but it can take much longer than that and accidents are OK; it’s fine if they don’t walk by the age of one; no one experiences judgment from others like a mother does. What I don’t know is: what it feels like to dedicate 9+ months of your body to nurture and grow a small human being; what it feels like to wake up numerous times throughout the night to feed a wee mouth and see a tiny smile in a moonlit room; to get more excited about having a date that includes a movie in a theatre with popcorn than having sex with your guy (wait, I do think I remember what that feels like); to miss your husband even though he's in the same room with you; to feel sick with worry wondering about the little person you created; praying that they become good people or hoping that no one ever, ever breaks their heart or lets them down.

So mom, for all those years I was too young, too stubborn and too selfish to not recognize you for the things I didn't know about motherhood, I want to say thank you. Thank you for never, ever giving up on me. Thank you for being so proud of me, then and today. Thank you for telling me I have often accomplished a life (and walked a path) you may never have chosen for yourself but that it is still a life worth bragging about to your friends. More importantly, thank you for showing me in these last few years that women do get better with age, that you can find strength within when you lose your most prized feminine possession, that you can maintain a healthy and active lifestyle in your sixties and that you can find love worth working on every day of your life...within yourself.

And to Samantha, Rod, Danica, Cams, Avery, Jack, Lola, Ethan, Brodie, Nolan, Mara, Riley, Matty, Ariss, Bruno, Pete, Charlie, Marc, Andrew, and Liam – make sure you let your mom know that your heart aches for her as much as her heart aches for you.

Happy Mother’s Day, Mom...the book is in the mail.

uuummm, May flowers? hello?

2009-05-09T06:31:00.000-07:00

It's Saturday, 8am and I couldn't sleep. So I grabbed Daws, her leash, poop bags and money and went for a jaunt in the 'hood. After buying a coffee and letting her romp for a bit in the park at the end of the street, I grabbed a Now Magazine and headed back to the front porch. It's the best thing to do early on a weekend morn - coffee, porch, paper and Daws. On the way back up the street, the sky looked black at one end and you could hear thunder in the distance. Lately, I've been taking my camera with me everywhere I go because I've been capturing precious things that tend to be a unique moment in time. And I was glad it was in my pocket because this rain and hail storm came on strong and fast.

For approx 30 mins, we sat there and watched. It's start mild, bright and hazy and ended in darkness and hail. Ironically it was incredibly peaceful.

Now the birds are chirping and the sun is out for the day.

the beginning...rain.

(in a matter of minutes)

the end...hail.

somewhere over the rainbow

2009-05-08T10:33:00.001-07:00

Further to yesterday’s blog post, I just have to say that there is nothing that will give a clean slate to a nasty bout of PMS like two amazing gay men. My beloved friends, Todd & Matt, invited me out to dinner and drinks with them last night when I got home from work. The goal was to cheer Matt up, so you think we would spend the bulk of the evening telling him how awesome he is and saying shit like, "turn that frown upside down". Nope, we didn't change our behaviour one bit in order to lift his mood. The usual gig ensued... Todd and I mocking each other relentlessly, while Matt sits there and has to put up with our diva-like insecurities and paranoia. After 3 hours of laughing, talking, eating, drinking and crying all I can say is that I sure as hell felt better than I did earlier in the day. Not really the goal of the evening, I know. Buuutttt we did solidify plans to see Kylie Minogue in Chicago in October. So given that Kylie is Matt's idol, I'm hoping something good came out of the evening for him.

Today, well...Todd and I were back to our old selves via text. And after our snatchy little banter it ended like this:

Todd: God, I cunt wait for your period to be over.
Cheryl: Um, it hasn’t even started. This is just PMS baby!
Todd: Well…however all that works down there.

Matt, I hope we cheered you up in some way. You should, at the very least, feel good knowing you’re better than the two of us…in every way.

Love you both.
Xo

it's not easy being green

2009-05-07T12:48:00.000-07:00

As a woman, one would think that I would be able to detect the onset of PMS due to a simple calendar, or even by how many pills are left in my child-prevention kit. Nope, I never really consciously pay attention to it. I know when PMS has arrived on my doorstep because I welcome it with tears. Oh boy do I cry and sometimes for days. It can be something simple like finding out I don’t have any peanut butter left in the cupboard for toast or something even more serious, like realizing I didn’t walk Dawson two mornings in a row.

Well, not this month. Why hello there rage, where the hell did you come from? It started Tuesday and has built up to the point of me literally yelling on the phone, in my cubicle at work, to the ignorant, hill-billy that runs my parking spot at work (yes, even typing that felt good). It feels like everything this week is going wrong and is completely senseless (legal disclaimer: this blog entry might be swayed by dramatization). Don’t worry, I have enough self-awareness to know that, yes, in the grand scheme of things in life, most of the shit I’ve been dealing with this week is peanuts. And I agree, the thickness of my PMS goggles just might be distorting the colours coming through the lenses. I totally get that it’s temporary and will work itself out. But when you’re in the middle of it and pre-menstral hormones are oozing through your veins it’s plain ugly. I’m mad and feeling mean.

Thankfully, I feel that the rage may have just climaxed moments ago to an all time high, which oddly enough I’ve resolved by breaking down in tears.

OK, now I’m done. Moving on to next month…

make what yer mama gave you

2009-05-05T16:02:00.000-07:00

Often when you find a teeny gem in the media or online you want to be the first to share it with your friends. C'mon we all wanna be that one to stumble upon 'something' that sparks a feeling and great emotion within us (whether it's a baby laughing, stupid dog tricks or giant karaoke events). But then again, what sparks for me may not spark for you, mostly because I'm a huge cheeseball. And this is where Clara comes in...

What I want to share with you, hopefully for the first time, is sweet Clara. I first heard of Clara about 3 weeks ago when I was driving in my car listening to Q on CBC. Jian Ghomeshi was interviewing Clara, a 93-year-old grandmother and her grandson, Chris. Basically, Chris made Clara famous by posting videos on YouTube of her cooking her "Great Depression" recipes. These are cheap-as-hell recipes that her mother made for her large family in an incredibly tough time. While these meals may completely feel like they are out of the 1920s (because they are so basic in nature) they are timeless. They are so similar to what me ma was putting on our dinner table 20 years ago.

After listening to Clara's endearing, little cracklin' voice coming through my radio that morning, I instantly grabbed a pen and my notebook (on the passenger seat) and wrote down a reminder to look her up on YouTube. Sssooooooo the reason this might be ancient news to you is because when I googled "Clara great depression" - a million (slight exaggeration) links came up where various media have covered Clara and Chris' story. Now, she has her own website, blog and DVD. Clara has become an internet sensation because her grandson saw something special in her - her personality, her youthfulness and her simple cooking. And after doing a bit of 'research', the thing I found most intriguing is that her grandson had been posting these snippets of her cooking since 2007....well before our own economic crash. How timely that everything old really does become new (and topical) again.

Clara and Chris really impacted me; their special bond and relationship. I lost all four of my grandparents before the age of thirteen - they were all in their sixties. There have been many, many moments in my life when I wished so desperately that they were by my side. My niece Samantha is turning thirteen this summer and I look at how young she is and how there is so much more living that she can hopefully share with her remaining three grandparents.

Aside from sharing this with you so that you can make cheap and easy recipes (take it from me cheap is super cool now and I love it). I hope you spend time with your grandparents and parents, loving them for their quirks and their sweet nuances, because those are the memories that will make you smile years from now. (note: I did warn you that I'm a cheeseball, no?)

Heck, Clara isn't even my grandma and she makes me smile like crazy.

Meet the Jetsons

2009-05-03T17:33:00.000-07:00

This past weekend I read an article about a design competition where the goal was to create an architectural solution that would be a temporary home for residents of NYC in the event of a catastrophe. The featured designer (and I believe winner of the competition) was created by Studio Lindfors, it was called Cloud City.

Because of its population density and concentrated infrastructure, the City is not well suited for traditional post-disaster housing, such as mobile homes. CLOUD CITY is literally an uplifting experience that will allow communities to remain intact as they pull themselves out of the rubble. The homes can be rapidly deployed with minimal site preparation. They are intended to ‘plug in’ to existing utility services, and can be deployed by a team of four workers in roughly an hour. Once airborne, the floating homes allow construction crews below to work unimpeded, speeding up the recovery effort. This in turn reduces cost overruns and unnecessary delays.

I was moved by this so much so that I was thinking about it most of the weekend. I honestly think these types of designs for the way we live are just around the corner. I remember as a kid thinking how fun it would be to live like the Jetsons, but really only believing that possibility in my lifetime was about as tangible as ‘magic’. With the rapid pace of technology and human intelligence being used for creations that were once deemed to live only within the walls of our imagination, I can’t help but wonder how many people are noticing the current life around us. Are we taking the time to notice the small things in each day that are breathe-taking and euphoric in simplicity alone? We’re all running to a distance ahead of us, racing to create a better future – chasing goals and dreams, but in this race to beat our own ‘personal best’ we need to stop, pace ourselves to live the moments that get us there.

So if we move to our Cloud City will we lose the energy and information that exists everywhere in nature? You know that rush and adrenaline you get from waking up super early to watch a sunrise, or to just sit on the beach with a coffee with an old fashioned newspaper, like I did this morning. I felt so incredibly happy in that moment and again later when I went for a run. It’s moments like this when I notice my breathing, my abilities, the sky and the skyline and just how lucky I am to have my feet on this earth, and not having my head in the clouds.

While it might be nice to live next door to George and Jane, I’m happy to be grounded right here.

I am Liz Lemon

2009-05-03T10:01:00.000-07:00

OK, so this entry is a little off topic of the overall blog theme, but I had to share this latest discovery in my life. For those of you that don't know me, it will help you to 'get to know me'. And for my beloved friends and family, I hope you pee your pants laughing at some (ok 99.9%) of the similarities.

So, to begin, I absolutely love Tina Fey. I'm talking massive girl crush here. It began the first time I saw her on Weekend Update. But now, I just might be a bigger fan of 'Liz Lemon'. I've just recently been introduced to 30 Rock and I'm wrapping up my addiction to season one and two before getting caught up in the current season on air now. I think you'll agree, it's like looking into a mirror. Well, me looking into a mirror, not you...errr... looking into a mirror.

Damnit. I so wanted to be Carrie Bradshaw.

the sky is falling

2009-05-01T07:13:00.000-07:00

I never thought I'd say this, but I miss Octomom. I find myself wondering how she's coping at home now with her 14 little seedlings. And I worry about how she's to make a living now that the swine flu has taken over our hearts and minds? The good news about bad news is that it passes quickly. The bad news about bad news is that it is typically replaced with the next 'new' tragedy.

This story of swine is crazy and it's spreading faster than the strain of the virus itself. What's most astonishing is how it is blanketing every ounce of our media right now, and depending on how and what media vehicles you follow it's overwhelming. It's on TV, online videos, newsprint, twitter, facebook groups, blogs, etc. My problem with this news is that when everyone is screaming about it on their respective media channels, as consumers of information, we're not listening to the words themselves instead we're focusing on how it's being said. And all I can hear is tremendous fear and shock. In fact, I wonder how many people on the street today actually even know what swine flu is? This time last week I was shooting a commercial on location, without access to a TV or the internet for 48 hours (now that's shocking in and of itself). When I woke up on Saturday morning it was the first time I heard of the swine flu and I couldn't escape it. I'm not going to lie, it took me a solid 4 days into the frenzy before I even knew what the hell it was. And I'm not trying to discredit the importance of it, but it's hard to know how serious we should be taking this news, especially when 36,000 people die of....how shall I say this...the 'regular' flu in a given year. And there are 15 cases of it in Canada today? And some people that caught it were cured? So, what's a girl to do.

From a pig farm in Mexico to the kitchen sink at my office, the virus and the news of it have spread globally in 7 short days.

Makes you wonder, what's more powerful - our voice or a strain of the influenza virus in pigs.