Courage is not the absence of fear, but the mastery of it

In honour of Hallowe’en, Classy in Philadelphia posted about her fears.  Even though it’s no longer the 31st, I thought I would post about mine, because Hallowe’en is my favourite holiday and I have tonnes of crazy fears.

1. Gorilla hands.  Because of this episode of the Elephant Show (Canadian classic kids show), I have been terrified of gorilla hands since I was little.
2. This Man.  Go read about it.  I’ve never dreamed of him, but something about the picture makes me so scared I want to cry.  I may have trouble getting to sleep because I opened the web page this late at night.
3. House fires.  Fire drills in elementary school used to make me upset.  Now I just worry that some day I’ll be at work and my apartment will burn down and Thunder Kitty will be caught inside.
4. Cancer.  Mom may have beat it, but not everyone does.  I wasn’t scared of it until it touched our family so closely.
5. Buses.  I know, you’re thinking don’t I ride a bus to work every day?  Yes, yes I do.  But when that bus starts to go too quickly, I brace myself for impact.  When I have to drive next to one on the highway I get the white knuckled kind of anxious.  All thanks to that bus crash I was in.
6. Candyman.  A friend made me watch this movie.  I often get jumpy in front of the bathroom mirror still.
7. Ghosts.  I’m pretty sure areas of my work are haunted.  I refuse to go to the basement during overnight shifts because of stories from co-workers.  I think ghost stories are really cool until I’m alone at night in my apartment.
8. Centipedes / Millipedes.  Seriously, any other bug could crawl all over me no problem, but a tiny little centipede scares the crap out of me.  Luckily the cat eats them.
9. Childbirth.  THAT comes out of WHERE?  And there’s ripping and sometimes cutting?  Oooh Hell No.  If I ever go down that road they are going to have to knock me out somehow.
10. At my parents’ place in the country, I get scared if there are people around.  Living here in the city, not having lots of people around gets scary.
11. Commitment.  I’d like a tattoo, but I can’t handle that kind of long term.  Currently I’m scared of the commitment I’m going to have to make to a cell phone company to get an iPhone.  And that whole serious relationship business?  Uhhh no thanks.

Okay, that’s a lot of irrational and semi-rational fears.  I’m sure I could dredge up more too.  But there are some major fears that I’ve overcome so far in life:

1. Needles.  I can’t watch them, but I don’t get hysterical and make Mom hold my hand like when I was younger (like, a few years ago), and I’ll even go by myself to get them now!
2. The city.  Growing up, Toronto was a scary scary place.  Dad locked the car doors the minute we entered the GTA (Greater Toronto Area) and didn’t unlock them until we were safely in a parking garage.  There’s violence everywhere!  You’ll get mugged, beaten, stabbed or even shot – just for the fun of it!  Gangs!  All over!  The homeless people come right up to your car window!  Yeah, like that.  So when I moved here, alone, I was pretty sure my life expectancy shot down so low I’d be dead any minute.  It’s been over 2 years and I’m not dead yet.  I even work with those homeless people and gang members.
3. Being far from home.  What if something happens and I’m not around to help??  Well, I moved far away, Mom got cancer, and we managed just fine.
4. Men.  That’s a little bit of a lie, I’m still kinda scared of them because I don’t understand them… but as a child I would not go near any strange man.  Strange men included anyone who was not my Dad or Grandpa.  Especially men with facial hair.  I’ve branched out a bit from then… I even talk to my uncles now!

So, what are you guys scared of?  What fears have you overcome?

 

Babies EVERYWHERE!

The title is from a Nutrigrain Commercial.  If you don’t get the reference, go watch it now, you won’t regret it.

My parents have been talking about grandkids for a few years now.

Dad will eye the toddlers at Home Depot and mention offhandedly to my sister that it would be nice to have some of those running around.

Mom picks up and plays with every newborn baby at church, and one day makes my youngest sister promise to give her grandchildren (um, she was 16 at the time).

Hiking at the farm, they point out the place that will make a great toboggan hill, and I know for a fact that they’re not suggesting we go sledding.

Usually, statements like that are mildly panic inducing for me.  Besides the fact that my baby-making areas may or may not be collecting cobwebs from lack of use, I am in no way ready to produce offspring.  I can hardly get myself out of bed in the morning or showered on a daily basis.  I’m lucky if I find A vegetable somewhere in my diet.  I had a dream once that I had a baby and left it in it’s car seat on the bathroom mat for the day like I’d leave my cat.  Oh and the fact that I get extremely creeped out by the idea that there would be a lifeform inside of me, feeding off of me, that I am going to have to get out of me by pushing it through a much too small space.  Mom keeps telling me it’s a beautiful experience.  Yeah, right.

But hiking around the farm on my birthday a few weeks ago, I could see what they meant.  I could picture a house there, warm and cozy in the snow, Dad and husband puttering around the garage or out in the yard doing guy stuff (for my Dad, guy stuff includes looking at trees and checking out bugs), Mom and I catching up in the kitchen, getting dinner ready, telling the kids to be back before dinnertime and letting them run free in the woods around the house, exploring everything, building forts, looking for bugs with Dad, coming in dirty and wet and exhausted and rosy cheeked.

Maybe it’s having a friend and a cousin who are pregnant for the first time, knowing people around my age are having children and excited and happy to have them.  It’s planned now, not surprises like those girls in high school.  And I am so excited for them, planning gifts to give to them and the babies and what books to buy to start their children’s literature libraries off right (this one is my all time baby fave).

It was so unlike me to think like that, being in a location and being able to see for surely things that will happen there someday.  I don’t think I could ever admit that to my parents though… instead I’ll just tell them to build a house for my cats.

 

Grown-Up..ish…

It’s strange when you realize your parents are starting to see you as a grown up rather than a child.  My parents have always been a little on the protective side.  I’ve never really wanted for anything, my parents have always taken care of any problems that have come my way.  When I’ve had to deal with my anxiety issues, I’ve always known that I could run home to my parents’ house and they would help me deal.  Life’s been pretty great because of that, but I’ve never really been an adult… I haven’t had to be.

That changed when Mom was diagnosed with cancer.  Our whole family’s focus changed to revolve around Mom’s health.  We were forced to expect less and step up more.  Myself and my sisters had to be the caretakers for once.  And Mom and Dad saw that we could take care of ourselves and even take care of them.  I couldn’t come running to my Mom with me problems, because her being sick was my biggest problem.  Instead, she started opening up to me with her problems, something that had never occurred before.  She admitted to me that she could never have up and moved to Toronto like I did – not when she was my age and not now – and she told me how brave she thought I was for doing that.  I got to drive her to appointments, make her meals, check in with how she was feeling, and take her for post-op walks around the hospital.  I got to make sure Dad was eating properly, and take care of stuff at their store.

Since Mom’s been better, that hasn’t changed.  They still come to me when they need me.  I drive them around the city because Mom doesn’t like to drive in the city, I go to the store to work and go to my sister’s school ceremonies when Dad isn’t feeling well.  Mom talks to me about her Dad being sick, and she tells me gossip from the store.  She even told me a slightly inappropriate but hilarious story that happened to a family member.  They trust me living in the city, so far from home, and know I can (mostly) take care of myself.  They’re still there for me if I need them, but they finally see me for how old I actually am.  They were married for 3 years by the time they were my age, after all.  Weird.

 

20SB Blog Swap: Erika and the Church Boy

Hey guys, it’s 20SB Blog Swap Day!  You’ll find me over at Refreshingly Honest talking about how I’m a crazy cat lady in training.  Go see me!  Meanwhile, here’s Erika:

Hello there! My name is Erika, blogger extraordinaire over at Refreshingly Honest and I’ve been chosen as Erin’s twenty-something blog swap partner. While Erin seems to be perfectly content with her cat-lady-in-training single-girl lifestyle (her description, not mine!) I seem to be on the other side of the spectrum. If I’m in a relationship, I’m complaining about the guy. If I’m not in a relationship, I’m complaining about being single. C’est la vie.

If I had proper guest-blogger etiquette, I would try and make this as light and funny of a post as possible. But life is weighing me down with questions today. To sum it up, I broke up with my boyfriend (aka Church Boy) two days ago. Rather than give you the details (because really, do they even matter?) let’s dig into the questions.

“Why?” I was really unsatisfied. Church Boy is the best boyfriend I’ve ever had; he treated me like a freakin’ queen, but no matter how hard I tried, I couldn’t feel ‘it’, that thing that makes your heart twitterpated. I assumed something was wrong with me. My oscillation in feelings led me to be very hot and cold toward him, and frankly, he didn’t deserve that.

“Are you doing okay?” Eh, the pain comes and goes. I haven’t really sobbed or anything, but there will be moments that I wonder if I’m doing the right thing. We dated for seven or eight months–I didn’t really keep track–but I never completely felt like he was ‘the guy.’ He was a great guy, but not ‘the guy.’ My poor readers had to put up with the up and down posts of i’m-so-infatuated to what-am-i-still-doing-with-him.

“What Now?” Oh boy. Do you really have to ask me that one? I’ve never been the single-and-loving-it kind of girl, simply because I always got back into another relationship pretty soon after each break-up.

I guess for now though, I’m going to take the “Erin” approach and learn to love being single. I’m going to be me, I’m going to learn to love spending time by myself, I’m going to embrace FINALLY moving out of my parents’ house next weekend, and I’m going to try and find some new hobbies.

But unlike Erin, I won’t be getting a cat. I’m more of a dog person.

 

My Vacation

• I flew out of Toronto and literally over my apartment building.  I held in the urge to shout to my seat neighbours that I could see my house from there.  We also flew over downtown, which looks pretty neat from the sky.
• A few hours later I arrived in PEI to a cloudy rainy day in the world’s smallest airport.  Okay, I’m sure it’s not actually the world’s smallest, but we got to take a ramp out onto the runway instead of being unloaded into a terminal.  My cousin was waiting for me with a sign welcoming me to PEI.
• We went to an East Side Mario’s for dinner (it’s a safe choice for someone who is a picky eater like me), and our waiter had such a strong east coast accent when he was introducing himself that we both paused, stared at each other, and ordered drinks because that might have been what he was asking us.
• I learned that I am terrified of the ocean when I am standing near it but it’s too dark to see it.
• We had Thanksgiving dinner on my second day there.  Apparently there is a big difference between a turkey that is 5.8kgs rather than 5.8lbs.  I let my cousin deal with the turkey, opting instead to bake my own birthday cake.  While the bird cooked, we had some time to kill, so we decided to drive to the east coast of PEI because we heard that there were starfish on the beach there.  We didn’t realize that a) we had no idea really where we were headed and b) it gets dark at night, but not Toronto-dark, not even Southwestern-Ontario-dark, but completely and totally dark.  I refused to leave the car.
• On day 3, we drove to Halifax to have a birthday dinner with my childhood BFF.  Taking a trip across 3 provinces for dinner blows my Ontarian mind.  Halifax looked really cute, even in the dark and rain.  It’s one of the few places out east that I haven’t visited before, and I’d love to go back.
• My biggest request for my final day in PEI was to see the beach in the day.  We did that, but in the rain.  And I was still kinda scared of the ocean… it was angry-looking.
• While in the airport waiting for my plane (P.S., you don’t need to arrive over an hour early for your flight in PEI), I looked out the window to see fire and black smoke and emergency vehicles all over the runway.  They announced a few minutes later that it was just a test, but that was after I nearly walked back to my cousin’s house suitcase in tow.  This was my first trip since the bus crash, so a crash, even a fake one, was not what I needed to see.
• I arrived back in Toronto safe and sound, with a really cool fly-over of downtown Toronto at night.  I have never actually loved the city before seeing that sight.  We were low enough that I could recognize buildings, SO cool.  And even, cooler, neither of my pets died!  I was ready to place bets on the cat being the sole survivor!  It was such a relief to see my boys again!
• On Friday evening as I was packing to drive home to my parents’ house, I got a call from work, offering me the 4 month full-time contract position that I interviewed for!  It only took four interviews and 10 months of paying my dues, but I am finally full-time at the shelter!  As of right now it’s only until February, but it is to cover a sick coworker’s position, so there is a chance of extension.  I was super excited, but also felt weird about it, because I was up against my work BFF, we started at the same time and have gone for all the same positions.  And I know she’s happy for me and glad it was one of us and not a random who got the position, but it still feels weird.
• Saturday was the Button family Thanksgiving and Grandma & Grandpa’s 60th anniversary celebration… only Grandpa couldn’t be there, because he lives at the nursing home now.  It was a nice get together, I got to see my cousins and feel my oldest cousin’s baby belly, but it was sad not to have Grandpa there and to know that he likely won’t be there again.  My Mom gave me the heads up this week that I need to have a few days worth of dressy clothes I can wear to a funeral home in my closet.  Ugh.
• We celebrated my Great Uncle (Dad’s dad’s brother)’s 80th birthday with extended family.  I know most of my second cousins, but not well.  It was a nice get together, but our side of the family seemed quiet and reserved in comparison.  We only have 2 cousins on my Dad’s side, and we used this opportunity to stick together.  My older male cousin and I actually talked, a lot, which we haven’t done in years… we’re always had a strange relationship until lately.  It’s funny how it takes being put with another group to really make the original group bond together.  I did miss having our traditional Thanksgiving dinner with just our part of the Walker family.  It’s usually when we celebrate my older cousin and my birthdays, and we certainly didn’t get sung to at the 80th party.  Overall, though, I think the bonding made up for the lack of birthday celebrating for us.
• My 24th birthday was on Monday.  I had a quiet family day, it was nice.  I woke up early (for me) and got presents from my parents and sisters, we spent the afternoon hiking at The Farm (the bit of land my parents bought), and had a big turkey dinner with brownie pudding (on my request) for dessert.
• The rest of the week has kept me busy.  So much for a relaxing vacation.  On Tuesday I had to drive to London with my Mom to drop off my little sis back at uni and to be able to drive Mom home after she got home oral surgery done.  Wednesday was the big haircut day and meeting up with my pregnant elementary school BFF for the first time since she’s been pregnant.  Apparently “Holy crap you’re huge” it not a complement…  And Thursday (today) I got to play replacement Dad, because Dad got sick.  I went in to my parents’ store to help cover while Mom went to a conference at the nursing home about my Grandpa, then I went to my littlest sister’s Undergrad Awards Ceremony at the highschool with Mom (she got honours and my cousin got top marks in her grade).
• It’s been a nice vacation.  Busy isn’t always bad, but I’m already looking forward to a day off and I don’t even have my work schedule yet!  Now to post pictures of the trip while trying to avoid positing pictures of friends and family on the interwebz without their permission.  You can see more if you become my Facebook friend.  :)

I can see my house from here!

Thanksgiving dinner PEI style - yes we're watching Glee on my computer.

I made a new friend on the way off the island. If you're coming to Canada, you need to find a Cows Ice Cream place.

Okay, make that 2 new friends.

The fall colours would have been beautiful without the rain.

The cliffs in PEI near Cavendish

That is real fear in my face there.

Breaking my not posting pictures of other people rule to show you this one from Thanksgiving of my Mom and her girls. She dressed us alike as children so often that sometimes we unintentionally do it.

 

Not Crazy, Just a Little Unwell

The title’s from Matchbox Twenty’s “Unwell”.

Katie, over at Katie Dot Com, shared a secret with us recently about her battles with mental health issues.

This was huge for her, talking about something that is so taboo in our society.  People with mental health issues don’t talk about them because it’s something to be ashamed of.  You’re afraid of being labeled as a crazy person… heck, if you’re anything like me you’ll label yourself as a crazy person.  But guys, it has nothing to do with being crazy.  It has to do with brain chemistry combined with life and environmental factors, and is has to do with each person’s individual coping mechanisms.  I believe that everyone has the potential to have mental health issues, just like everyone has the potential to come down with any other illness.  So why is that something to be ashamed of?  Well, it’s not, and by hiding it, we’re making things worse for others who truly believe they are alone suffering with these issues.  So why aren’t we talking about this?  As bloggers, we have an outlet, a place to talk about it, and as 20-Something Bloggers we’re at a prime age to be dealing with these issues, so why not band together to talk about this stuff?  Talking about mental illness gets it out in the open and helps get rid of the stigma.

It got me thinking, I may have mentioned it offhandedly, but I don’t think I’ve ever blogged about my own issues.

Disclaimer: I am no mental health expert, I know my own experiences and recommend each person find their own way to cope with their issues.

I think I have probably had anxiety issues my entire life.

As a small child I wouldn’t go near men other than my father and grandfathers.  I cried every day of kindergarten and some of grade 1.  I was always timid and shy, I didn’t make friends easily, and my Mom called me “Telly” sometimes, like that Sesame Street character, because I worried about everything.

For most of my childhood, I was able to cope.  Until grade 5, when something changed.  That year, I started to have anxiety attacks so badly that I would get physically sick.  I spent most schooldays in the office if I made it to school, I rarely could get myself to go into that classroom and I didn’t know why.

After that year, I only had occasional anxiety, which didn’t really interrupt my life.  From grades 6-12, I overcame many of my fears.

Then came first year university.  Away from home, and a natural introvert in social situations, I had difficulty adjusting.  It’s not that I didn’t have friends, I had awesome friends there.  But I barely left my room, I had difficulty eating, I had panic attacks that kept me from attending classes, I went home to my parents’ house every weekend because it was safe and home.  A lot of people didn’t understand why I couldn’t go out dancing or go to dorm parties.

I think it was the anxiety, the constant irrational fear, and the knowledge that I should be having the best time of my life but wasn’t, that led to the depression.  I was never suicidal, just incredibly down and unhappy all the time.  My friends tried so hard to cheer me up… I don’t know why they stuck around.

I didn’t know how I was going to make it through the school year.  I wanted to move back home, but knew that wasn’t really an option.

I was diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder and put on Paxil.  It was horrid at first, it made me throw up daily and feel miserable.  But, slowly, it started to help.  I am still on Paxil to this day, 6 years later.  It doesn’t get rid of my anxiety, but it helps make it easier to cope with.  Instead of something that overwhelms me and freezes me in place, anxiety is something that I can deal with and rationalize now.  It’s not a cure-all and it’s by no means perfect, but it helps make my life livable.  If it helps me to cope, I’m happy with it.

Part of me fears it will come back again and I think I will always have that fear… but maybe that’s just the anxiety talking.

My mental health is still something that I have difficulty sharing with people, because as much as I don’t believe the stigma is rational, it’s still there.  I generally have to really trust someone before I’ll tell them.  This is even more true now with work, as I am the one who is supposed to be the professional and have everything all together in their own lives.

But I’m writing this because I really think we need to talk about it.  Other people need to hear our stories.

Yes, I have mental health issues, but no, I’m not a crazy person.  I have friends and family who know and accept my issues.  I have a job I love and a really fantastic life.  The anxiety is still there, creeping in the shadows, making me second guess things, but I’ve learned when to listen to it and when to tell it to shut up.  I am living with mental illness, and that is my story.

So, what’s your story?

 

Thankful

Fortunes by smellenellen

It’s Thanksgiving here in Canada, so I thought I would write about all of the things in my life I have to be thankful for:

My small immediate family and my big crazy extended family.  Having people who love me and care about me and who are always there to support me.

My friends – the ones I knew as babies at church, the ones I met in elementary and high school, my camp friends, the university friends, the college friends, the work friends, and even the blog friends.

Thunder Kitty, and even the stinkin’ Maurice.

My apartment, and my parents’ house.

Having a (full time!) job waiting for me.

Never being hungry.

My health and my family’s health, especially Mom being cancer free.

Music – to chill to and to dance to and to drive to.

The internet.  Oh, the internet.

Living in Canada.

A big pile of books to read.

And I’m sure I could go on…

What are you thankful for?

 

Tidbits

• I’ve watched a season and a half of Buffy the Vampire Slayer in the past few days.  I have a very specific friend to blame for this, as she was outraged that I hadn’t ever watched it, so much so that she brought the first two seasons to me.  Well, I am in love.  I can’t believe I ignored this show at the time in favor of Felicity and Roswell!  It’s hilarious and Angel is a dreamboat.  I am doing my very best not to run to the store and buy all 7 seasons to have myself.  I’ve been ignoring books and the internet for Buffy.  I know, it’s crazy.
• I’m leaving for PEI in 2 days… actually less now, but I’m trying not to think about that.  I have so much to do to get ready and I’m working all weekend.  I have big plans to wake up early tomorrow for laundry and to go in to work early so I have time to go to the store and return my cable box.  BUT, considering I’m the world’s biggest morning hater, I have my fears about this getting accomplished.  I have had my suitcase airing out for a few days now (aka rescued from the closet full of smelly shoes), and I’ve been slowly adding the things I don’t want to forget on top of it, so I think I’ll remember everything.
• Speaking of, I am super excited for my trip – to travel by myself and for all of the events we have planned (celebrating my birthday with a BFF in Halifax, pumpkin carving, Thanksgiving dinner, going to the Cows store, etc)!  What I am not super excited for, however, is the prospect of leaving my cat and turtle home alone together for 4 days.  I do have a friend checking in on them daily, but still, if the cat is not engaged in an epic battle inside of the turtle’s tank when I get home, I will be greatly surprised.  Besides, I start to miss my kitten if I’m away from home for longer than one shift at work… nothing has made me more motherly than my bad-ass cat.  Sad, I know.
• My week at Mom and Dad’s place after I return to the province is also pretty exciting.  I haven’t been home since August, which is a long time for me, considering that when Mom was sick last year I went home every few weeks.  I get to spend time with my family, AND I get to see my childhood BFF who is pregnant for the first time since she got knocked up.  Knocked up may not be the term she would want me to use… but I am crazy excited that she is with child!  I can foresee Auntie Erin talking in third person to a belly in the near future.  Much like my Mom, I get embarrassingly mushy around babies, even though childbirth creeps me out more than most things.
• I’ve been obsessing over this song lately.  So fantastically Canadian!
• For the past month or so, I have had allergies.  I have never been allergic to anything in my life, well, other than the fact that fabric band-aids give me a rash.  But now, I am full out runny eyes, snot all over the place, allergic to something.  The Weather Network tells me it’s ragweed season.  I think maybe I’m just allergic to being in Toronto for this long without leaving… all the smog I inhale daily has to go somewhere right?
• Now I am off to attempt to turn my too-tall rainboots into shorter ones.  Seriously.  Because that is what sane people do at 2:30 am.

 

The Time I Met Internet People and They Weren’t Creepers

Most of us 20-somethings were raised in an environment where the internet was very new.  New = not trustworthy for most people.  We first got the internet when I was in grade 6 and it was the greatest dial-up thing since sliced bread.  But my parents informed me that I was not allowed on chat rooms where I didn’t know the other people in real life first, and my Dad had to check everything I did online first, like opening an e-mail account or starting my first webpage (which was obviously Backstreet Boys themed).  We grew up hearing the sensationalized news stories about the dangers of the internet, a place where people can pretend to be anything they want and 50-year-old men lure small children into their homes.  Growing up, for me at least, the internet was a dangerous place.  I’ve been online now for 13 years.  I consider myself somewhat internet savvy.  I’ve had more websites than I care to remember, I’m part of way too many social networking sites, I even tried my hand at online dating, but still, my childhood internet wariness lingers.

This weekend I did something that I never thought I would do.  I think even now, my parents would have been horrified to know what I did.  In fact, I spent the escalator ride up to the restaurant laughing at how crazy it was.  I met up with people from the internet…. like in real life.  And they were all who they said they were – not creepy 50-year-old men.  And I didn’t get kidnapped or killed.  And they all seemed relatively normal.  And I liked them all (thank GOODNESS, because I was secretly really scared I wouldn’t like them and then wouldn’t even be able to blog about the fact that I met these people who I didn’t like).

I’ve been blogging here for over a year now, and I joined 20 Something Bloggers shortly after I started blogging here.  Through 20SB I’ve met some amazing people and lived vicariously through some of them as they went to the Vegas, Chicago and New York meet ups this past year and had fantastic times.  I started the Toronto 20 Somethings group of 20SB because my area of the Great White North didn’t have a group to represent it, and I’ve watched in awe as my little group has grown from being just me to the current total of 52 members.

After we watched the meet-ups our southern neighbours were attending turn out so successfully, someone in our group suggested we have one.  To be honest, I was terrified.  Me?  Going to a blogger meet-up?  The introvert in my had a complete freak out at that.  I did not want to be a part of such an event.  But I didn’t say that out loud (or should I say type it out loud?), mostly because it’s a little bit rude, but also because I started that group and felt responsible for it, and because I’d been reading what these people have to say for months and kind of wanted to meet them.  So I made up my mind to give it a shot.  We planned it down to the last detail.  A central location, a date and time that most people could make, who’s going to make reservations, the fact that we would have appetizers and drinks instead of full meals – everything.  My fellow bloggers confirmed their attendance so I knew I wouldn’t be sitting alone at the restaurant waiting for my internet friends.  We were set.

I second guessed myself the whole way there.  Who was I?  What the heck was I doing?  This SO wasn’t something I do.  But I made it there.  The hostess at the restaurant told me my group was at their table and pointed me in the right direction saying I couldn’t miss them.  I fought the urge to inform her that I didn’t actually know what most of them looked like, so me missing them was actually very likely.  I got to the table and they recognized me and I knew who was who just by looking at them, I knew about their lives and they knew about mine.  “How’s your cat liking his new litter box?” is a bizarrely intimate question from someone who you’ve never actually met before.  All of a sudden, they weren’t so scary, and I realized that I didn’t actually ever have anything to be nervous about.

We were 8 completely different people, we come from different places and do different things.  Really, what we have in common was the fact that we’re around the same age, live in roughly the same place, and we post stuff about our lives on the internet.  But it’s more than that, I think.  It’s about being interested in other people, and sharing a way of looking at life as potential stories to be shared, and finding new ways to connect to people in an increasingly disconnected world.  We weren’t really strangers at all, really, even before I got there I could have told you stories about each of these people’s lives.  I realized that I was so darn nervous about meeting these people because I already cared about them – I’ve devoted hours to reading their blog posts, following their tweets about their lives… I think I was nervous because deep down I can still remember my parents’ internet warnings and I didn’t want these people to be creepy 50-year-old men because I care about these people and the relationships we’ve built, because they know things like my cat’s name and because I’ve talked about my feelings with them and I didn’t want that not to be real.  And possibly because they don’t judge me for run-on sentences and they’re okay with the fact that I’m not very classy most of the time but still like me in spite of it.

Needless to say, none of them were creepers.  We talked and laughed and ate and drank, and I could talk about blogging and geeky internet stuff without feeling embarrassed or having to preface my sentences with “I know it’s nerdy, but…”.  It was refreshing.

In attendance were (in order pictured below):

Erika, Still Searching (I forget if I’m allowed to use a real name for our anonymous friend.  But I’m posting the pictures, which may defeat the purpose…), Reggie, Lisa, myself, Jason, and Lindsay.

We made the waiter take a group shot, he made Erika move her crutches first.

Seeing as the whole group shot was a little dark, we did shots of each side of the table

We had to try 2 times for this, because Lisa was on Sudafed and couldn't keep her eyes open.

See?  Look!  They’re real people!  No 50-year-old creepers in the group!  All that happened was that I got to put faces and voices and mannerisms to these people who I already knew.

We missed all of you other Toronto 20 Somethings who couldn’t make it, and we’re threatening that you’d better make it out to the next one – you all still need to prove that you’re not creepers.  Crap, I said next one.  Yeah, there will likely be a next one.  Though if we keep having these I might have to come out of the blogging closet officially to my IRL friends who are going to start wondering what I’m up to and how I know these people I’m meeting up with.  I’ll cross that bridge when I get there.  For now, all I can say is that the internet isn’t full of creepers pretending to be 20SB-ers, so you guys who haven’t been to a meet up should probably tell that introvert in you to shut up and get yourself out to one – you’ll be glad you did.

 

Autumn

Delicious autumn!  My very soul is wedded to it, and if I were a bird I would fly about the earth seeking the successive autumns.
- George Eliot

Southern Ontario may not get a lot of things right weather-wise… think brutally cold winters and humid summers… but one things that this area never fails at is autumn.  Fall has always been my favourite time of year, and not just because it’s my birthday season.  So, to celebrate autumn, here are my favourite things about it:

1. The Weather: Perfect days, cool nights, and sunny skies, they come every year to relieve us from the summer humidity and make us believe that winter won’t be that bad this year.  I get to break out jackets and pretty scarves, and my hair always looks its best after the humidity has left and before the winter fuzzies set in.
2. The Smells: I grew up in farm country.  Fall to me means the smell of tobacco plants in the smoke barns – it doesn’t smell like cigarette smoke, more like a variation on campfire smoke.  The smell of tobacco smoking is one of my favourite comfort scents, more than anything else it smells like home.  There are other fall smells that I love too – the leaves have their own scent once they turn and separate from their trees, the soybeans come off the fields around my house and there is a very specific aroma to their harvest, oh, and the cooking… nothing smells quite as good as my Grandma Button’s turkey… I’m fairly certain all of her grandchildren have a Pavlovian drooling reaction to it.
3. The Sights: Fall, Thanksgiving in particular, has always meant driving.  Now it means driving the 4 hours across Southwestern Ontario to get to Mom and Dad’s, but even when I was little it meant driving to my various aunts’ and uncles’ houses.  Ontario does really well with the fall foliage.  The forests in Southwestern Ontario that frame our farmers’ fields have the perfect mix of trees to give us a mix of colours that almost make you pull over the car on the highway with the need to take a picture.  There’s also that harvest moon, big and orange, that my Dad always ends up pointing out to us and dragging us onto the porch to see it.
4. The Holidays: My birthday and Thanksgiving usually occur on the same weekend, so my birthday has always meant big family gatherings that make me feel warm and loved.  After that, I spend the next 2-3 weeks in full Halloween fever – pumpkins and costumes and candy and haunted houses – oh my!  We’re not even there yet, and October is already my busiest month – full of family and friends.  Could you ask for anything better?

Innerkip Autumn by Ultimate Spinach