Tagged: life
I feel good lately
- by Alyson Shane
the window's open and I'm in a beam of sunlight drinking a coffee my man made for me and listening to Qveen Herby
last night I knocked out two pages in my art journal, one about some sad stuff and another about some feel-good shit
I made cardboard rollers and stamps and listened to Conan's podcast and giggled over dumb texts and jokes with friends.
The thing about being in a dark place for a long time is that you don't realize how low and sad you are until you start to pull out of it.
If you'd asked me in February I'd have said I was at my lowest in a long time, and I was, but now that I'm moving on from unhealthy relationships, patterns, and beliefs about myself I'm realizing that
no, I was doing badly for a long time before then.
In 2019 a thing happened — someone I cared about and trusted and was trying to help made fun of me behind my back on a secret Instagram account that several of my friends followed.
Probably unsurprisingly, that fucked with my head. I started to doubt if the people I surrounded myself with
liked me
cared about me
were laughing at me behind my back
thought I was
like that.
I lost myself in the worry and fear and anxiety of not knowing where I stood with people.
I slowly spiralled into a dark place where I doubted my ability to write, create, imagine
I stopped dressing up, felt guilty about wearing makeup and leaning into expressing myself
I tried to dim my light because it seemed to overwhelm people around me
and yet it never seemed to make a difference. I kept feeling like an outcast, a second-rate friend, and unimportant to the people I loved.
(If I post on social media that I'm struggling and you're my "friend" and you don't reach out are you even a friend?
How do I interpret getting messages of love and support from strangers when the people I used to hold closest to my heart avoid asking me how I'm doing?)
For a long time I turned those bad feelings in on myself
but lately those bad feelings have been slipping away though words, paper clippings, layers of paint and stitched-together ideas
laughs and good chats with friends, long hugs, tearful candid conversations
working out, eating better, drinking more water and less alcohol, doing yoga and sitting with my body
listening to podcasts and reading books about philosophy, mindfulness, and creative self-expression
watching movies and comedy specials that make my face hurt from laughing.
Maybe this is just the natural evolution of moving past something
shedding the skin of the sad, small, struggling person I was allowing myself to become
stepping out into something brighter, fuller, more me?
I couldn't tell you; I've never gone through something this dark and bad and hard before
but I feel like I'm moving past it
coming through slaughter
holding my treasured people close and laughing and smiling and leaning into the good parts of life
more than I have in a long, long time.
New peepers
- by Alyson Shane
A week ago today I woke up and didn't need my glasses. I reached for them at first the same way I'd done every morning since I was 13, but they weren't there and I when I gave my eyes a second to settle I remembered that
I didn't need them anymore.
(That still doesn't feel real to say.)
I'd spent the day before at the LASIK clinic getting tested. Pre-pandemic I think this used to be two sessions: one to do the tests to determine yr candidacy, and another session to do the surgery, but now they've jammed it all together which freaked me out a bit since you go in and either
get the surgery, or
get turned away because you're not a candidate for one reason or another
and what a heartbreaking outcome that would have been.
I've needed corrective lenses since I was a teenager and I've always hated it. Since it was the early 2000's and I was getting glasses through my dad's benefits I got stuck with these ugly, round, metal frames.
I was embarrassed at how they made me look.
I felt unattractive and unpolished.
I felt ugly.
I spent all of high school feeling this way; the feeling compounding over the years along with other anxieties and feelings of low self-worth until I could barely look at myself in the mirror anymore. I felt embarrassed all the time.
I got older. I got contacts. I got new frames that were darker, heavier, and more my style.
But I still hated it.
Wearing contacts wasn't so bad but having something in my eye all the time meant that there was always a small part of my brain dedicated to thinking about it.
Were my eyes too dry to keep them in?
Were my eyes looking red and tired?
Did I have my glasses nearby in case I needed to take them out?
On and on and on at every party, show, music festival, or long day at a conference or event, there it was: that nagging, niggling thought in the back of my brain.
I think a part of me always planned to get surgery if I could. I got a breast reduction in my early 20's so I'm no stranger to elective surgeries and believe that if you can afford to do something that will make you feel
happier
healthier
more attractive
more confident
then you should get 'er done because we only live once and, damn it, we should enjoy our time while we're here as much as we can.
Which is why I spent all of last Wednesday sitting in a clinic "lubricating my eyes" in-between tests, making small talk with the optometrists and attendants
("omg I love your energy" they'd say
"you're so positive and funny"
and I'd say
"thanks, I appreciate it
I make dumb jokes when I'm nervous")
(Because I do.)
Then they'd say something like "why are you nervous? The surgery is going to be fine!" and I'd tell them that, Oh it's not the surgery I'm nervous about — I'm nervous that one of the tests is going to come back saying I'm not a candidate.
And one almost did: I had a 1/2000 deformity in a section of my cornea which meant that I was only a candidate for the most intense/laser-only/most expensive option
(the optometrist told me to tell people I got the "Canadian fighter pilot surgery" since I guess it's the one they use in the army)
and though I'd budgeted for the more expensive procedure and had actually planned to choose the most advanced option it still felt like a gut punch when the optometrist looked at the scans of my eye, pointed to a section, and said
"this area here is a little unusual..."
then he finished by saying "but you're still totally a candidate!"
I told him he needs to lead with the good part first next time, and he laughed even though I was being deadly serious (for once).
People had told me the surgery was scary. Intimidating. Overwhelming.
So I popped a Xanax (you can ask for them), kicked back, and laid on a table while a very qualified and nice surgeon had me stare at a green laser while it reshaped my eyes.
IMO it wasn't that bad. Maybe dealing with 8 years of intense orthodontics (a head brace, retainer, and braces, oooh yeah I was hot) primed me to just be cool with lying back while a skilled professional goes to town on part of my face
(or maybe it was the Xanax)
(maybe it was both)
but the only part that felt scary or weird was when I literally went blind when the doctor peeled back my cornea to do the procedure but everyone I'd talked to had warned me about it so when the moment came I laid there like
"all right, this is the part where I'm blind for a few minutes"
(ok it was definitely the Xanax.)
I went home, slept like crazy, and woke up groggy but with +20/20 vision.
Bless modern medicine.
Since then the thing that's surprised me the most is the number of people who've messaged or commented to say
"I always loved you in your glasses"
"You always looked so good in your glasses"
"Your glasses really suited you"
and while I'd like to say Thank You and Yes I Know... I'm so fucking thankful to not have to hear that again.
Because I don't care how "good" I looked or how much they "suited" me
they never felt like me
and finally, miraculously, amazingly, for the first time since I was 13 years old
I feel like myself again.
Every day's the 14th
- by Alyson Shane
Today is a day to celebrate love, and to honour that I'm gonna dedicate this post to two of my favourite things:
John, and quizzes that remind me of being back on LiveJournal in 2002.
I saw this quiz as a post my friend Donna shared on Facebook and it brought back memories of mooning over boys (literal boys, I was a teenager in 2002) and sharing random quizzes on our blogs even though everyone in my blogroll knew each other so well that we didn't really need to read each other's answers, but we did anyway because what good is a personal blog if you don't share random stuff on it every once in a while?
So without further ado, a lil backstory about us to celebrate V-Day 2022:
How did you meet? At a baby shower for a mutual friend. John was telling some hilarious story and I noticed him right away.
First Date? Cousin's diner (RIP) — we sat at a small table tucked away in a back corner and ate knish while holding hands.
How long have you been together? Almost 9 years
Married? Two years as of January 25th!
Age difference? 6.5 years
Who was interested first? Not sure, but I think we both started making googly eyes at each other pretty much right away.
Who is taller? John, by like almost a foot I think
Who said I love you first? John did.
Most impatient? Me for sure.
Most sensitive? Also me.
Who is the loudest? We're both pretty loud and energetic people but I probably take the cake here.
Most stubborn? John, but (as he said to me in a letter he wrote to me when we first got together) "is always willing to change his mind if shown a better way." That sentence still stands out as something that made me want to be with him.
Falls asleep first? Me, almost always.
Cooks better? I tend to take the lead and make more things/suggest more meals, but we're both pretty adept in the kitchen.
Better morning person? John for sure. I'm grumpy and groggy a lot longer after I wake up.
Most competitive? Me; John's pretty chill about most things.
Funniest? John for sure. He makes me laugh until my face hurts and drops dad jokes on me daily.
Where do you eat out most as a couple? It's a toss up between The Yellow Dog and The Nook.
Who is more social? Me in terms of planning hangs and social activities, but John is a true social butterfly once you get him around other people.
Who is the neat freak? Me FOR SURE.
Who initiated your first kiss? John's ex-girlfriend. We were all partying at Folk Fest and she insisted that John "kiss Alyson just to see what it's like" and we were both so anxious about it that he bashed my lip with his tooth. AWKWARD.
How long did it take to get serious? We'd known each other for years so as soon as we (finally) got together is was a serious thing.
Who picks where you go to for dinner? We usually decide together, but I probably lead with more ideas and suggestions.
Who is the first one to admit when they're wrong? Depends on the conflict, but we're both pretty good at coming back to the table and apologizing (couple's therapy helped a lot with this).
Who has more tattoos? John, he's got three and I have two.
Who sings better? John! But he always encourages me to sing and I have the best time being in our band Big Trouble in Little Wolseley with him.
Hogs the remote? Neither? We don't watch cable so the remote usually just sits on the coffee table until we need to select the next episode or whatever.
Spends the most? Me, but that's because I handle buying groceries, stuff for the house, etc.
Did you go to the same school? Nope — John was already graduated (and living in Winnipeg, I think?) by the time I'd graduated from high school.
Today is my second wedding anniversary
- by Alyson Shane
John and I got married right before the pandemic hit, back when you could hug people and hang in crowded bars and scream into karaoke mics at the janky nightclub just off of Front Street in Caye Caulker, Belize, where we got married, without worrying about getting sick.
We talked about "the Coronavirus" breakout in China with strangers on the day of our wedding.
I remember listening to reports on NPR about it while we were in Toronto on our way home
hoping it wouldn't hit Pearson until we were back in Winnipeg aka flyover country.
We got lucky. So so so lucky.
We managed to get 36 people down to a tiny island off the coast of Belize for 10 glorious days of
drinking beers on the beach
lounging in the ocean at the Sip N Dip
and eating waaaaaay too much seafood
right before the world fell apart.
We've talked about that a lot since then, while we've been cooped up in our house for
days
weeks
months on end
talking about The Wedding as if it was some big, beautiful dream.
Which in a way, it was.
We knew that, for most of the people coming, our wedding would be either
their first trip outside of Canada/the States
their first trip to a tropical place
their first trip to Belize
their first trip off-resort, or
in some cases
a blend of some or all of the above.
Weddings are special and all, but we didn't want our wedding to be "just another day" or "just another trip to Windsor/Winnipeg"
we wanted something weird, special, and memorable
and by some weird, fucked-up stroke of luck, that's what we got.
The perfect trip. The perfect wedding. The perfect reminder that we're so lucky to have the friends and family that we do.
People who trust us enough to follow us on an adventure
who dress up like 18th century monks and write rap songs about us
whose laughs we could hear echoing down the street as we walked to meet them
(the thought of it makes me teary-eyed)
a lot of whom we haven't had the chance to see since the pandemic started.
These past two years have made me realize how lucky I am to have married John.
Locking down was one of the easiest parts about the pandemic because I spent all my time around my best friend
(who drives me crazy less often than I would have guessed)
but it's still been weird having most of our marriage defined by this thing that happened
right as it started
and that's still affecting it, two years in.
Still, some of the best parts of the last two years (and being married so far)
have been the times we've spent at home together.
Two years of planning and saving and strategizing
writing silly songs and practicing epic covers
planning outdoor hangs and DnD campaigns on Zoom
cooking amazing food and making fancy cocktails for ourselves
making art, writing, sprucing up the new homestead.
Somehow we always seem to find a way to make the most of the situation we're in.
Lately, since the latest round of Covid cases has had us staying home as much as we can
we've been listening to records when we make dinner and play games in the dining room
Motown, old rock n roll, blues, you name it
these daily moments of intimacy feel like a break from the rest of the world.
A world that feels crazy and scary sometimes
that feels overwhelming and unmanageable
that feels frustrating and unfair and upsetting
these feelings fade away with the smell of something cooking and the sound of vinyl crackling.
The other night while Elvis was on I said to John
"dance with me"
so he did
taking my hand in his and putting the other on the small of my back
holding me close.
We swayed slowly as the music played, singing the words softly, my head on his shoulder
wishing I could stay there forever but knowing that as soon as the song ended
we're right back to facing the world together
the crazy highs, the toughest lows
making magic and memories
and turning everything into an adventure
this year, and every year ahead.
I hope we get many more of them to share.
Photos via Jasmin & Matt Photography who did an incredible job of documenting our day.The livin' is easy
- by Alyson Shane
Lately I've been having the nicest nights.
One of the best glow-ups about our new house is that the kitchen is approximately 294755859 times bigger than our old kitchen
so instead of tryna make space in a weird corner to roll out some dough or chop veggies on a table that's probably too wobbly to be using a knife anywhere near it
John and I have been able to really collaborate in the kitchen together
which if you follow my Insta Stories you'll know is one of my fav things to do.
Another "new house glow-up" is that our den where the TV and sectional and record player all live is right next to the kitchen
in fact, one of the doorways into the kitchen
(not the one with the fancy double-acting door, but the other one)
opens right up into the part of the kitchen where all the action is, so it's easy to pop into the den and, say, flip the record or choose another vinyl to put on.
Which is what we've been doing lately and omg
it's been so lovely.
John inherited a bunch of vinyl so he has this huuuuge collection of classic rock and pop and Motown and old country and
all these musicians The Algorithm probably wouldn't ever show us if we were using a music-streaming app, like
Jerry Lee Lewis
Harry Belafonte
Diana Ross and The Supremes
Hank Williams
Duke Ellington
Ray Charles
Gladys Knight & The Pips
and, of course
the incomparable Ella Fitzgerald.
I dunno why but I've always liked listening to records
thumbing through the vinyl jackets feeling the old, worn cardboard
(or paperboard, or whatever it is)
thinking of all the people and places and times where someone else did the exact same thing:
putting on a record and having a Really Nice Time.
It's kinda like when you find a well-worn book and you think about how many times the book was
opened
read
and enjoyed,
putting our old records on feels a lot like that.
You feel the thing that's playing the music for you, treating it with care
taking a second to stop drinking, or shooting the shit
or in our case chopping veggies or sautéing something or other
to hold the music in yr hands and make it a meaningful part of whatever you're doing
instead of it blending into the background, unnoticed and unimportant.
So we've been listening to old vinyl instead of Hot Hot Hits or more 90's R&B playlists
(which I'll never knock but yr girl can't listen to Biggie and Pac all the time y'know?)
and we've been belting songs out and dancing around as we make food together
reminiscing about songs we know
surprising ourselves with ones we'd forgotten until now, songs we'd heard
here and there, on the radio, in movies, in our parents' cars growing up
old memories brought back by the sound of the music
helping us make new memories in a space all our own.
Hi 2022 / bye 2021
- by Alyson Shane
It's the end of another year. I just finished cleaning the house (a New Years' ritual), showered, and I'm about to get down to making some food and bevvies with John,
but before I do that
you know I gotta blog a bit.
I know it's cool to dunk on this year and there's lots of reason to do that for sure
but this isn't a post about all the dumb
and in some cases, downright scary
shit that's going on right now.
I wanna list some of the good stuff 2021 brought into my life. Sometimes when I look back on old (old) blog posts I read 'em and go
god what the hell was I writing
but sometimes
the best times
I read a post or two and I think to myself
"Damn, what a life I've led"
and I feel good about it.
So since I know I'll be reading this post again in years to come I don't wanna just focus on the stuff that was hard, or frustrating, or made me feel anxious or unsettled
instead I wanna talk about the parts of the year that make me go
"hell yeah"
so here's a few:
2021 was the year I stood in the middle of a lake.
At the start of the year John and I rented a cabin at Falcon Lake and spent a week (mostly) unplugged from the world.
We ate tons of good food, went on long hikes, and dreamed about the future while drinking wine in the outdoor hot tub while it was -25 C
(which is more refreshing than it sounds for my non-Canadian readers)
At a few points we walked across the frozen lake to explore islands that are only accessible by boat in the summer and I kept stopping between the shore and the islands to look around.
It felt surreal and made me feel small compared to the might of nature that can freeze and thaw this big, deep lake every year.
Like when you look up at the night sky and see the Milky Way and realize yr just a tiny speck and life is just what you make of it before yr gone forever.
That's how standing in the middle of the lake made me feel.
(me, getting some sick air while jumping on the ice in the middle of the lake)
2021 was the year I reconnected with my parents.
This spring I spent an awkward and emotional few hours sitting outside socially distanced in a park across from my parents who I hadn't talked to in six or seven years at that point.
We talked about a lot of things and I got stuff off my chest and they listened and I felt heard and we decided to figure something out because if there's anything this pandemic has taught me
it's that you never know what's going to come next
so even if you need to have healthy boundaries with people, there's still no sense in being a dick about it.
I get the sense that I drive them a little crazy and I think that's ok because the older I get the more it seems that's what families are supposed to do to each other
(hopefully in a loving way)
and though I still catch myself at arms' length sometimes I love the time I spend with them and my brothers. It feels good to be a part of a family again after feeling like I had to be on my own for so long.
2021 was the year I became a homeowner.
We didn't plan to buy a house this year. Not by a long shot.
But half of life is being prepared and the other half is saying "yes" to an opportunity when you see one, and luckily for me we were both prepared and equally in a position where we could say
"hard yes"
to buying the house right across the street from our old rental.
Somehow, in the middle of one of our busiest summers ever, we bought our house and spent 8-12 hours almost every day throughout August repainting it and replacing things and literally throwing out soooooo much garbage that the previous owners left behind
(if you need a hookup on a junk bin rental hmu)
and when we finished the move at the start of September and at first it didn't feel real.
Like I was a kid living in some other adult's house.
Sometimes it still feels that way.
Every time I go up to our third-floor bedroom and see the sunlight streaming in over the big, bright room I stop and think
"holy shit this is where I live"
and part of me hopes that I never stop being in awe of the beautiful space John and I are creating together.
2021 was the year I explored my beautiful province.
West Hawk Lake was our first "big" social outing since getting fully vaccinated in the summertime.
As we drove down Osborne and out of the city I felt like a weight I'd been carrying around for months lifted off my chest.
The first night was just a few of us who had all been in Belize together for our wedding so we picked up some jumbo shrimp, scallops, and lobster to fry up on the grill and talked about how long a year apart can feel.
We hiked up a mountain and swam in a lake created by a meteor impact and had ice cream and listened to metal covers of punk songs
(which everyone hated but not as much as Luke did)
and kicked off an amazing summer of sunshine, grilled food, squeaky air mattresses, guitar sing-alongs, and getting to know Manitoba a heck of a lot better.
We braved multiple bear "incidents" and jumped off of cliffs and stayed up into the early hours of the morning laughing together with our friends and it was the perfect remedy to (almost) a year apart.
(A bunch of cool kids having a laugh after waaaaay too many months apart)
2021 was the year I refined my relationships.
A lot of this past year was defined by a falling-out I had with someone I was close to. It was unexpected, hurtful, and made even worse by the amount of
stonewalling
avoidance
and straight-up gaslighting I dealt with
as I tried to navigate a redefined set of social situations
without getting the closure or even basic acknowledgment of my feelings that I was
(and still am)
owed
has been a hard pill to swallow, especially as someone who craves closure to any kind of emotional situation.
But that experience gave me the chance to look critically at the people in my life and who I made space for. It helped me realize that I have a bad habit of trying to make relationships with toxic people work because I want to be the
bigger, better, kinder person
when the right thing all along would have been to put my foot down and walk away.
I spent a lot of this year reflecting on that and re-committing myself to putting the work into relationships with people who bring joy and light to my life instead.
2021 was my best year professionally.
Starling Social had our best year ever. I worked on banner projects with big, influential clients, gave over a dozen talks, brought on several new people to the team
and somehow, thankfully, managed to do it while maintaining a decent work-life balance.
(Which is one of the things I'm most proud of, tbh.)
2021 was the year I learned to say "no".
"No" to commitments that I didn't feel passionate about
that weren't the right fit
that felt too time-consuming,
not worth it
not a positive use of my time.
As an over-achiever A-type personality this has been hard as hell. I love to say "yes" to new opportunities and love the feeling of having lots of events and goals to work towards.
But this year forced me to take a step back and re-assess where my energy should go, which leads me to my last point...
2021 was the year I slowed down.
It was the year where I learned to sit still, to be at peace with myself.
To take deep breaths, unstick my tongue from the top of my mouth
(which is a common thing anxious people like me do without realizing it)
and take a step back from a situation and ask
"how am I feeling in this moment?"
Sometimes I didn't like the answer
(maybe that's the point?)
but the more often I did it the more I could confidently and clearly answer myself.
"I feel overwhelmed"
"I feel excited"
"I feel at peace"
"I feel
happy"
And at the end of it all, after 365 days of ups and downs, looking back the feeling I felt the most this year was happy and grateful
grateful for the business I've built that affords me this wonderful life
grateful for my partner, friends, and family who make my life richer
grateful to have opportunities to grow and explore and shape myself
falling constantly into my lap.
Life can be hard, and it is.
2021 wasn't a cakewalk by a long fucking shot.
But looking back it was mostly
almost completely
kinda/sorta, if you squint real hard
wonderful
despite everything we've all gone through
and I can't wait to see what next year brings for all of us.
All my love in 2022!
Got my flu shot today
- by Alyson Shane
we picked the total wrong day to go because it's cold and windy and not at all nice like the unseasonably warm +4C it was yesterday
(can you say "global warming"? Yikes)
but whatever, I got the flu-jab and next week I'm getting the COVID-jab aka my booster shot so I guess getting needles on a regular basis is just going to be part of life from now on.
My COVID jab is the last "big" thing I have to do before the holidays. Earlier today I wrapped the last of Starling's quarterly planning sessions with our clients so all that's left to do is take care of some outstanding tasks, putting together a few proposals since business has become very busy all of a sudden
(which is normal for this time of year I guess but it always catches me off-guard)
and then I can coast into the holiday season on a wave of Christmas movies, music, wrapping presents and baking/cooking my face off since we're bringing food and snacks to our Christmas get-togethers.
This is the first year in a long time that I'll be spending Christmas with my parents. We reconnected back in the spring and come to think of it, a lot of this year has been spent reconnecting with people who I'd drifted away from or had falling-outs with.
(Except one person but you can't win 'em all I guess.)
It's trendy to dunk on the year that just passed but honestly I can't complain about much.
My business had its best year ever
I bought the beautiful house across the street from where I used to live
I brought lots of lovely people into my life
and!
I got vaxxed which meant I could
camp
and hang
and bike around with my pals like in the Before Times
and holy hell did the time away from the people I love give me a profound sense of gratitude for the weird, happy little life I've built for myself.
2021 blew 2020 outta the park as far as I'm concerned.
Tonight we're gonna go to The Tallest Poppy and celebrate a friend's 40th and tomorrow is D&D
(which I realize I've never mentioned here but yes, I play D&D now with a group of lovely humans)
and then we have a blissful weekend of No Plans which means powering through work and house stuff and setting myself to coast right tf into the holiday season and a week off of work
so three cheers for that.
I’m sitting in the ER at HSC
- by Alyson Shane
I got into a pretty bad accident on my bike today.
I hit a pothole and flew over my handlebars and skidded along the road on my head.
My eyebrow is split open and I have a concussion, and earlier I could barely walk or understand what was going on.
Thank god I was wearing my helmet.
I’ve been in the ER for eight hours, and here are some things I’ve seen:
A man in a wheelchair pleading towards the nurses' station, saying
“Please nurse, my chest hurts.
Please help me, nurse”
and nobody helping him right now,
because they can’t
they have no beds for him.
A grandma on her phone,
blind, also in a wheelchair
telling her son that she’s been here since 8:30 AM
(st was 5 PM when she made that call.)
A young woman curled in a chair
feet tucked up under her
she asks the nurse for a blanket and the nurse tells her
they don’t give them out here
the girl starts crying
“I’ve been here since 2:30 PM” she wails
(she asked for a blanket around 6 PM.)
A man lying on the ground
on the “Covid symptom side” of the room
under a blanket, shaking
he was here when I got here at 4 PM
It’s 12:25 AM now.
All the while nurses
and doctors
and EMTs
and other hospital staff
have been running around
back and forth
stressed and tired
their eyes weary above their masks
doing their best to keep up
but it’s not enough.
There isn’t enough funding
not enough staff
not enough beds
to help everyone.
The hospital up the road from my house used to have an ER,
used to take some off the heat off HSC
but the Conservative government closed it a few years ago
and this scene is what we’re left with.
This is what happens when we defund health care.
This is what happens when we vote for Conservatives.
This is what happens when we look at people as dollars and cents
and not human beings who get sick
and get hurt
and need care.
And this is just one night when I happen to be here
for 8+ hours
to tell you about what I’m seeing.
Imagine what it’s like being here
every night,
trying to give all these people
timely, high-quality care
and being unable to
because the health care system you’re a part of
is stretching you
and everyone here
to the limit
every day.
Please
support our nurses
support health care workers
and never
ever
vote Conservative.
---
I was finally seen after 9.5/10 hours of waiting in the ER. A huge THANK YOU to the staff at HSC who took care of me and everyone else who was there yesterday. You're heroes and you deserve better than this broken, gutted, and under-funded system you're forced to operate within. I see you, and I appreciate you.
New house vibes
- by Alyson Shane
We’ve been in the new house full-time for just over two weeks by this point I guess
give or take a day or two
time has no meaning these days it seems.
Technically “the house across the street” has been ours since the first of August but since our lease wasn’t up we spent the month
painting
and painting
and painting
occasionally replacing lights
switching doors around
junking leftover furniture
but mostly painting
until the whole house from top to bottom didn’t look like
A House We’d Bought
but instead looked like
A Home We’d Made Together.
Once we had our bed moved over we swaddled up the cats and ran them across the street (which they hated) and spent a sleepless night with them huddled up in the bedroom as they cried and got stressed and made those weird yowling, almost-human sounds that cats make sometimes.
It took them a while but they're getting used to the place
even though I don't know if I have?
Every morning I wake up in my bright, third-storey bedroom and walk downstairs, then downstairs again and after spending most of the last decade of my life in one or two-bedroom apartments our house with its five bedrooms and sunrooms and den and library and dining room and everything else
feels cavernous.
What do you mean, my office isn't in a basement?
I have a whole room to make art in?
I have a kitchen that's big enough for two people to cook without bumping into each other?
Some days it still feels like I'm a kid living in my parent's house, or staying in a house that belongs to some other grownup
except now I'm the grownup
(when the hell did that happen?)
Last week there was a crazy thunderstorm so John and I sat out on the porch watching the lightning as the clouds rolled by. We talked about dumb stuff and serious stuff and laughed and got tipsy on wine and listened to the sound of the rain patter-patter-pattering out in the darkness of the street.
I've dreamed about having a porch, a house, a life exactly like this one and it's so good it almost doesn't feel real.
As we watched the rain fall we saw the lights go on in the house across the street
our old house
where we lived for years through roommates
upstairs neighbours
parties
fights
surprises, and small rituals that make everyday life so special
and slip by so fast.
Now that house belongs to other people
(good friends of ours, in fact)
and in a few weeks, months, years, it'll start to feel like that's where they've always been.
I know that's how it'll start to feel here, too
so I'm tryna hold onto this feeling of "newness" as long as I can.
Our possession date is coming
- by Alyson Shane
The end of my time at 120 Lenore Street is looming, staring me in the face
every day
every night
every morning.
One day closer.
Marching steadily towards the end of one of the best chapters in my life.
This house was where I realized that I needed to
take a leap
to leave a life where I was
comfortable, but unfulfilled
where I changed everything
turned it upside-down
to try something new
to take a chance on love
on fulfillment
on myself.
Where I did what I needed to do in order to live the richest, fullest life I could.
(And what a rich, full life it's been.)
This house is where I was afraid of growth
of change
but did it anyway
even though it was hard.
It's where is where I faced my fears
lost myself
came home to myself
put in the work
and where I've learned to say
I'm sorry.
Here is where I made memories, like
the blanket fort v 2.0
post-Folk Fest BBQs
Thanksgivings
Christmases
Halloween's
birthdays
and so many beer-fuelled late-night dance parties.
This house is where I started my business
at a little desk in the living room
with Toulouse in my lap and BJ on the desk
hammering away at my keyboard, tryna make it work
feeling hopeful and scared every morning for years.
I became friends with Alex here
put Adam to bed here
cackled with Amber here
and made more memories with the people I love than I can count.
I've been here for six and a half years and part of me still isn't ready to let go.
This house has been so good to me
and I hope I've been good to it in return
cause I'm going to miss it like hell.
