- by admin
which takes more balls than people tell you.
Whether it's leaving a lover
(which I didn't, don't worry)
calling someone on their bs
(which I did recently, but not today)
or finally allowing yrself to say
"yeah, I'm worth it"
(which is what happened)
it's can be a scary journey to actually start thinking highly of yourself, which is weird.
You'd think it would be the opposite, but no.
Our society teaches us (especially women) to devalue ourselves,
that it's rude to think that we deserve a better partner, better people in our lives, better opportunities
even when we do
and it takes courage to start to value ourselves and to take a long, hard look at our lives and go
"yeah, I deserve this"
and then actually go for it.
One of my favourite authors said something lovely about courage, which I'm going to end with here before I get too flowery
(so have a lovely weekend, and always remember):
Life shrinks or expands in proportion to one’s courage.
- Anais Nin
- by admin
When the guy I was seeing left me it was 11pm on a Thursday and he did it in the Second Cup on Graham Ave and I was dumbstruck and I cried.
I was young and I didn't know what to do so I got up and left and he followed me because that's what you're supposed to do when someone storms out of somewhere, I guess.
It was February and it was snowing and I was trying to put on my coat and my mittens and my scarf at the same time and failing because nothing made sense, least of all arm holes and wool and zippers.
Nothing makes sense when someone hurts you.
He followed me and took my hand and because I was young I thought that meant something and he said "I'm sorry, let's go back to my place and we can talk" and because I was young I thought that meant something so we did.
But it didn't mean anything. It didn't mean anything at all.
He drove me home at 2am and I screamed at him in his car, I said what the hell is wrong with you why did you invite me back to your apartment when I was trying to go home
and he said
I don't know. I don't know about anything right now.
and I said some awful things that I wish I could say that I regret.
When I got home I called the man I'd been in love with all along and because it was the kind of man that he was, he stayed on the phone with me until I fell asleep.
The next day he dropped his Friday night plans and picked me up from work with flowers and when I saw him I began to cry either because I was wounded or in love or probably both
and he held me in his car as I shook in his arms.
We went out for dinner and on the way home he held my hand in between the red lights and shifting gears, and we listened to Konstantine by Something Corporate and I watched the snow and the traffic as we drove from downtown to Old St. Vital.
Later that night when we were alone and I was consumed by the smell of him I thought of the words of that song, the slow sadness of it, and though I was young and sad and fucked up I felt like maybe I’d be all right.
Which turned out to be true, but not then.
- by admin
the weekend sitting in a living room in the almost-dark
listening to Treeful of Starling
while you sang along
and I smiled
watching Tyrone in his lucha mask being outrageous
in the next room.
Then I said
"I love him"
and you said
"I know. You both have something special.
I feel lucky to be able to be around you guys"
and I said
or maybe just thought to myself
we're all so lucky.
- by admin
which is something you don't hear often
not even from people from winnipeg
but it's true.
we're a big city still trying to be a small town
stuck being a small town with big-city problems
with shitty weather half the year
and a seething inferiority complex
in the middle of nowhere
and we spend more time slamming
our sketchy mayor
our shitty transit system
and our winters
than saying good things about anything.
but our little frozen hovel
stuck out in the prairie
like a defiant 'fuck you' to common sense
amazing artists, writers, and most of all musicians
and a complex, intricate love/hate relationship
with the place we call 'home'.
this town makes you nicer
you smile and say 'hello' and make small talk in line at tim horton's
help out your neighbours or that guy
whose car got snowed in up the block
not because you want someone to reward you for doing it
but because it's the nice thing to do, dammit.
being stuck in the middle of the country
makes us much more appreciative
of what other cities have
oh you have efficient mass transit?
oh your skyline has buildings in it?
and up until a few weeks ago
oh you have an IKEA?
its size makes us all connected
everyone's had too much to drink at the king's head
gone to osborne village on canada day
seen a show at the west end
had a greasy burger at blondie's
been harassed the twoonie lady downtown
and we've all suffered from
missing a bus that came thirty seconds too early
or getting stuck outside waiting for a bus that came twenty minutes late
trying to strike a balance between two options
which are never in your favour.
living here makes you hard
we're sarcastic and cynical and critical
and especially our hometown
which is why when someone else makes fun of it
they can fuck off
because that's our job
and unless you've spent your life
shovelling snow and dealing with overnight parking bans
hanging out at the toad people-watching on the weekends
driving to grand beach during the summer
complaining about all the things you could do if only
you were somewhere else
you haven't earned the right to bash winnipeg.
because you don't love it like we do
especially not as as much as when we say
"I fucking hate this town".
** thanks to @nicolebarry204 for reminding me that this post existed -it's still true!
- by admin
the weather called to me
"it's above zero in January, if you stay inside you're an idiot"
so we set out in search of a good cup of coffee
and played around on a bridge shaped like a penis
in the middle of the city.
over a river not even half-frozen
we watched the ice slide by beneath us
and pretended like we'd never been scared of falling in.