i believe in answers

October is Breast Cancer Awareness month.

This is for Mom, who battled breast cancer at the young age of 38. Mom, who endured aggressive radiation and underwent a tough surgery that scarred and removed half of her right breast, while keeping everything a secret so as not to worry us.

This is for Donna, a woman I work with. Donna battled breast cancer two years ago, underwent a double masectomy and advanced chemo treatments, wearing a wig so her two daughters never saw her lose her hair. And her biggest fear, to this day, is that one day her daughters might get it. Donna doesn't wear a padded bra, instead defies peoples' perceptions of struggle and wears her battles proudly and also with the humility that only a survivor can have.

This is for Lindsay, whose aunt and cousin died of the disease after a long and painful battle. Lindsay tattooed the pink ribbon on her arm to never forget.

This is for my two best friends and I, because statistics show that in the coming years, one of us will have it.

This is for the women that lost their hair, and the women that shaved their heads before the chemo could ravage it. This is for the women that have one breast or no breasts, and the women that bear the scars of their battle. This is for the women who won, whether in this life or in a life beyond our understanding. For the women in pain, and for the women who no longer feel the pain.

This is for the survivors, for the departed, for the warriors, the moms, the grandmas, the aunts, the sisters.

This is for women.

Let's find a cure.

nothing good comes easily

"Sometimes the only way to move forward is to stop moving. To stand still and to decide that no matter what happens, no matter how much it hurts, you are exactly where you want to be."

Just breathe.

Nothing tastes more bitter in your mouth than the harsh sting of mortality. It's a reminder that mankind, in all of it's glory, is infallible. It's the realization that your parents are not super heroes--and even more upsetting--that your parents are just like you. Human.

I came back from Nova Scotia to a dad that had to be rushed in for emergency surgery for a pretty serious condition. He had no idea and didn't really pay much attention to the symptoms. He's okay now, but it'll be a long road to recovery.

My dad and I have always been close. I have a lot of his spirit and his fire in me, it's something we both realize and are proud of. But seeing him high on morphine for weeks, totally out of it with scary bandages and gauze encompassing his leg, I wanted nothing more than to crawl back onto his lap and have him read Curious George to me, in that funny voice that he does just to make me laugh.

Seeing a loved one in pain is one thing. But seeing dad like that was enough to make me scream. My dad's infallible. My dad's the cooolest person ever--the man who taught me how to ride a bike, the man who taught me how to put oil in my car, and the man that chased a boyfriend around two blocks with a steel pipe, just to give him a good scare.

"That boy won't ever hurt you now," he said. I stared wide eyed between my crazy dad and my boyfriend, who was still out on our lawn, wide eyed, chest heaving.

He's doing better now. But seeing a man so strong, so proud, hobbling around still in so much pain is devastating. I've been taking him to his daily doctor's appointment. It's probably a moment of shame for him, to have to be driven around and puttered over, but it gives me a sense of pride to be able to do a few small things to take care of him. He's spent his life taking care of me.

It just makes everything seem so fleeting. Things have been tough since I came back from Nova Scotia. I can't change the situation, but I can change my outlook, so I've been working on it.

I chose to come back. I chose to take a great opportunity with CBC. I choose to be happy wherever I am, because I may not always control why I'm in a particular situation, but I can control how I react to it.

It just seems a little trivial. When I was in Halifax, there was a boy from the past that popped up. He said all the right things (again), we talked, and he made a good pitch. Told me he realized how I was, understood why I keep running away, said that we could go real slow. He really poured it out and it sounded genuine. I told him we'd talk when I got back to Montreal. Here I am, and he disappeared. Just completely vanished, and it's as if the entire thing never happened.

I can't control the present. I certainly can't control the future. But maybe, just maybe, I can close my eyes and trust that while it may not feel right, while it may not be where I want to be, while it may feel so completely unnatural and wrong--that I am exactly where I am supposed to be right now.

Maybe, if I close my eyes.

And just remember to breathe.

when I was in your heart

Saturday is my 24th birthday. On that day at 10:33AM, I will be one year older.

I will also be leaving Nova Scotia to return to Montreal.

I don't want to leave. This place not only feels like home, but it reminded of what it's like to be happy. To feel comfortable.

To be by my beloved ocean.

Leaving. After four months, the crisp autumn wind rolled in and whispered in my ear that it's time to go.

So, on my 24th birthday, I'm going to be leaving a part of myself behind, here. And she'll stay here until next summer, when I can feel alive again.

wasting away again in margaritaville...

It amazes me that four months has passed by without me even realizing it. Somehow, the months of December-March never seem to pass by so quickly.

I'm driving back to Montreal--which I've stopped calling home, if you've noticed--on Saturday. I've been so consumed with thoughts of returning that I completely forgot that this Saturday is my 24th birthday. I had wanted to drive back on that day because I thought there was no better way to end a four month journey of self reflection than to drive back on the day where I get to turn the page and start a new year. One year older and lightyears wiser, but still with a reckless abandon that I think, and hope, I will always possess. The happiest people in the world have mastered that balance between wisdom and complete blissful stupidity.


If you had asked me in June, I would have said that I was coming to Halifax to change. To learn something, to be different. I did learn, I learned a whole lot. But the magnitude of this trip will hit me in pieces, later on. When I react to a situation in a way that I never would have before, that's when I will realize exactly how important this experience was for me. how essential it was, just to be able to grow as a person.

Because that's what it's all about, really. People never really change. I learned that. They just morph into different shades of the same colour. You grow, you shed skin, you sprout new leaves, you just keep growing while remaining the same foundation of yourself. I came here looking for change, and I'm leaving here knowing that it doesn't exist. Thankful that it doesn't exist.

It's funny that nothing typically monumental hppened in Halifax--things that other people would see as a big deal and would justify what I did. My life has never been typical, so I'm not overly concerned about another person's input. I didn't fall in love with a boy this summer. Instead, I chose to believe that there is a boy out there that I can fall in love with. That realization and acknowledgement was a big step for me.

Moving to Halifax for four months was essential to my well being. Getting out of Montreal was essential for my well being. It figures that I've only ever wanted to work in the NHL, and Halifax is one Canadian city that lacks an NHL team. The irony is not lost on me.

But maybe as the months go on, my shades will change and it will make sense. Maybe it won't ever mak sense. Life is about choices, and if we never had to choose between two very difficult things, then we'd never appreciate what we chose as important.

Life is about the constant decisions you make everyday, about what is important to you. Because everyday, you let something go.

This summer was as much about letting go as it was about choices. Letting go of negative assumptions. Letting go of what I think should happen, and choosing to just believe. Believe in anything.

Believe in everything.

People can be compared to stained-glass windows. Although they glitter and shine when the sun is out, when night falls and darkness prevails the true beauty is revealed only if there is a light from within.

i thought i lost you somewhere

Sometimes I still pinch myself. I can't believe I have lived in Nova Scotia for four months. Four months. I can't believe I actually did it.

When I sit at the harbour, I just try to take it all in because I know how much i'll miss it. I can feel the dread already. Last year, I came here for maybe 10 days total, all broken up, and it tormented me all year. I missed it so much, that I started a monthly countdown until I could go back. Everyday I thought of it--and that was just barely ten days.

Now I've lived here. And I am going to miss it so bad. The little things. the smell of the sea. The neon Murphy's Restaurant sign on the boardwalk. The Purdy's Wharf buildings always in the background. Spring Garden road.

I don't know how I'm going to do it.

I learned a lot about myself this summer. Monumental things--like I actually do want to get married. Since I was 15, I've abhorred the idea of marriage and never wanted to get married. But that was because I believed one type of guy existed--the lying, cheating, sleazy type. But this is about choices, and I choose to believe that the polar opposite is out there. I choose to believe that a good, decent, respectful guy exists too.

It's the theory of duality. If you believe in the evil, by default you also have to believe in the good. You cannot believe in a god without believing in a devil.

And the good? I could marry the good. It's not that I've always hated commitment--I've hated lack of commitment. Being committed to a guy that cheats on me while I remain blindsided is what terrifies me.

But, this is about choices.

Just like I choose to believe that I don't have to put on the short dress, the high heels, the drunk act and throw myself messily in a club to attract a boy. Yes, sometimes I do that. Sometimes I enjoy it. Sometimes, that kind of attention is exactly what I'm looking for.

But I choose to believe that there is more out there.

I also choose to believe that people don't fit into the perfectly labelled, defined boxes that I try to stuff them into. That even by calling someone an "exception," I am classifying them. I am identifying the box they should go into, and recognizing that they do not fit into it.

I choose to believe people are more complex creatures and far too messy to be fit into boxes. I choose to wipe the slate clean. You are a hockey player--you are a blank canvas capable of everything. You are a physics nerd with a wicked passion for jazz music--you are a blank canvas. I am a curly haired girl with a boisterous laugh and a growing renewal of love for life itself--I am a blank canvas.

I choose to be surprised by every single person I meet.

I choose to take it easy on myself. Stop the hate. I am never too fat nor too skinny, too loud nor too quiet, too brave nor too cowardly. I am what I am and I choose to owe not apologies for it--especially not for myself. I choose to hold my chin high. I can never be perfect but I can always be me.

I choose to take a chance. I choose to believe. I choose to believe that a boy can have a good heart. I choose to believe that I can succeed. I choose to believe that love will find me, that fate will always find a way. It might not be right now, I might not see it, but I choose to believe that it's out there, that it knows what it's doing. Because I sure don't know what I'm doing.

This summer was about me. It was like reaching into the mirror and shaking hands with the girl that is in there. Because for awhile, I wasn't sure who she was. I'm still not sure who she'll grow to be, or what choices she'll make.

I just know that I took care of her, by taking her away to a place where she knew no one for four months so that she could grow.

And now, she'll take care of me.

the now or never kind

Life is not logical. It never was.

Life is life. It is not logical. Life does not care if you think something is not possible or not rational. It will smack you in the face with that irrational and illogical thing until you get it: life does not make sense. Stop trying to figure it out.

Sometimes you need to let go of rationality, punch normalcy right in the face, let go, and just trust a feeling.

Because feelings are as illogical, as irrational, as so-completely-not-caring-about-what-makes-sense as life is.

Here's to the night.

feet to the ground

Balance, balance, balance.

The concept mocks me almost as much as fate does. Balance. It is my zodiac sign. It is a phrase I try and keep in my head at all times.

It is also an idea that completely evades me most of the time. Balance. Libra. A scale. What people don't seem to understand that a balance is calm, peaceful--when it's in equilibrium. Knock a balance just so slightly to one side and you're in havoc. When the scale tips, it crashes.

I always succumb to its' clutches, too. I allow myself to get too high, knowing that I'll come crashing down but just not caring. I'll also dig myself so deep into a hole that it's difficult to see the ray of sun that is shooting down for me.

I was elated yesterday when CBC/Hockey Night in Canada called me and asked me to be the permanent runner in Montreal. Running around like a madwoman(much to the amusement of the players) paid off and they offered me the position. It's nowhere near full time--it's just every Saturday--but it's a great start and a great next step toward my goal.

But then today I find out that the job I left in June--the one that was guarateed to still be there when I got back--is actually not so certain at all. When I e-mailed the director to tell her when I'd be returning, she said she'd do her best and keep me posted.

So a guarantee turned into a maybe. Which when you have bills to pay and a loan to pay off, a maybe can literally keep you up all night. Inducing panic attacks.

I've never been okay when my environment is thrown upside down. I can't handle it. In the span of a few days, one roommate is moving out, one is moving in, and I have to give up the room I've been subletting because the other roommate is back.

But roommate moving in already has allllll of her stuff all over the living room. I'm not good with messes. I can't handle them. They literally give me fits.

So I have to give up my room before anybody moves out. Then roommate moves out. Then a few days later, roommate moves in. I will be living on a couch for a month. And for the first few weeks of that month, I will have somebody else's stuff piled all around me.

I want to stay in Halifax. I do. I'm just not looking forward to not having a room, especially since I find refuge in my room. Sometimes I need to shut myself off from everything and everyone and have my own space. I won't have that for a month.

Stress.