The evolution of interior decorating

As I go about my daily activities, I find that I notice and admire other people's houses and apartments. My place is nice, but I find myself wanting someplace a bit bigger so that I can have a real bed with a pretty bedspread and two bedside tables with lamps and alarm clocks and books to read before going to sleep. Maybe even a journal with a nice pen. And a front hall so I can have a little table with a runner and a vase of flowers. And a dining room that I can paint and wallpaper.

Right now, we have a lot of Ikea furniture. That's not a bad thing, but I notice it's a very young thing. And the more I see of other people's houses, the more I wonder: how do people learn how to decorate their houses? You can almost tell a person's age just by looking at their house. Do we just naturally evolve as we gain life experience? When you're very young, you put posters all over your bedroom wall. Then you get your own place and you buy very basic furniture. I know tons of people my age with Ikea houses - every room fully furnished by Ikea (well, those of us who are lucky enough to live near an Ikea) and then I know many people older than me with no Ikea furniture whatsoever.

Since I haven't reached that point yet, I ask you: at what point do you make the transition from particle board furniture you assemble yourself to solid wood and varnish? Maybe it's just something you grow into (or out of), like craving fruit as a snack (or no longer wanting chocolate bars for supper). It's just something that occurred to me and has piqued my interest. I'm looking forward to owning real furniture and a real house and having different colored rooms and pictures on the walls. I guess growing up can be fun :)

Don't change

When I was young (grade 7-grade 12), the number one piece of advice people gave me was: "don't change". I have many memories of this… when one of my friends was moving away, she wrote down for me her new contact information, and underneath it she wrote "you're so sweet, don't ever change". My grade 7 Tech Ed teacher (I will never forget this) called me up to his desk on day while everyone else was working and told me not to change. He said that when I grew up people would get mad and be rude and mean, but that I shouldn't change for them or because of them. At the time, I was completely confused by what he was saying. I kind of still am, but I think I understand him a bit more. Over the years I have encountered difficult people and been tempted to be a nasty person just because so many people these days are, and they tend to get what they want, too. But the voices of the dozens of people who have told me not to change have been in the back of my head.
And every time I think about that advice, I question it: how can they tell me not to change? Change is inevitable, especially when you're growing up. I am a very different person now than when I was 13. Goodness, I'm a very different person now than when I was 19, or even 21! I'd like to think that I am still a kind person, but that doesn't mean I haven't changed. I'm a more efficient worker, I'm more organized, more confident, more willing to stick up for myself, more decisive, more independent, less concerned about what other people think about me, less naïve, less willing to put up with other people's crap and bullying, less inclined to accept unfair treatment… in general, I am a much stronger person, but I wouldn't say I'm ruthless. Sometimes I wonder if I would be even more different now if I hadn't had so many voices inside my head telling me not to change. Would I have become completely selfish, caring only for myself? Would I have become a mean person in reaction to all the mean people I've encountered?
I wonder about it a lot. Most of the people who told me not to change are no longer in my life (I wouldn't even know how to track them down) but I still feel like I owe them an explanation… I wonder what they really meant when they said that. I wonder if they feel I have followed their advice or not (not that I would revert to my old self if they didn't approve). They probably have no idea how profoundly their little comments affected me. I often wish I could meet them again and show them what I've become.
"Change is inevitable. Growth is optional."
No one can dispute the fact that I have changed a lot over the past 10 years, but I've always endeavored to keep the best parts of my personality. I'm happy with how I've grown as a person.

Perfection

I've been working for the past little while on a scrapbook to document the fun times my sister and I had while she was visiting me in Montreal this summer. I bought a $1 scrapbook -the kind you used to use in grade 2 - and just started writing down my memories. Being into card-making as I am, I see all kinds of gorgeous scrapbook pages all the time. But that's not the kind of scrapbook I'm trying to create. I just wanted something pretty and fun to remember all the things we did while she was visiting. I made sketches for each page, and some neat drawings… but it's nothing too complicated.
At first, I wasn't sure how to begin or how to arrange the pages or what kind of "look" I wanted… but then I decided to just jump into it. I'm not being super particular or trying to get everything just right or starting over if I make mistakes - which is actually a big step for me. I'm not being careless, but there are still mistakes. And I'm ok with that, which makes me proud of myself. I used to be so concerned with making sure everything I did was perfect - schoolwork, social relations, you name it. Talk about stress! My grades were great because of it, but I always felt mildly panicked when I was in social situations (did I say the right thing? Did I laugh at the appropriate volume and for an appropriate length of time? Was my comment properly timed? Was my facial expression appropriate? …The pressure I put on myself was suffocating!).
This scrapbook adventure has really opened my eyes to the many disadvantages of worrying too much. I haven't been worried about the outcome, I've just been enjoying the process: remembering all the happy times, using my imagination to make it look good, enjoying getting to play with all my craft tools (or "toys", as I like to call them)… It occurred to me a few days ago that I don't often feel this way about card-making because I'm usually so concerned about making sure the card looks just right. Sometimes I think about it, and I fear it's gotten to the point where I put so much pressure on myself to make amazing cards every time that I never take time to just enjoy the paper and markers and glue and ribbon and other wonderful "toys" that I've got at my disposal. I'm often so worried that the outcome won't be perfect that I don't even start, isn't that sad? Well, this scrapbook has changed that. Perfection is no longer the goal - enjoyment is. If I make something beautiful in the process, so much the better.
My new advice to myself: don't let fear of making a few little mistakes along the way keep you from trying or even beginning.

Lucky or Deserving?

I was sitting in the staff room last week, eating my lunch and observing my surroundings. I was listening with interest while my colleagues chatted about all sorts of different things. Even though I don't contribute a whole lot to the discussions, I still feel like I'm very much a part of the conversation. And as I sat with my lunch and my friends, I felt myself choke up a bit: I am so thankful for where I am this year. I enjoy my job, I enjoy the people around me... sometimes I'm so happy about it all that I get a bit overwhelmed. I don't try to constantly make comparisons between this year and last, but this year is such a different experience for me that it's hard *not* to compare. Over and over I remind myself how lucky I am.
Some people might say it has nothing to do with luck. They might say that I worked hard and that I deserve to be in a better situation this year. But I'm not sure I agree. You see, that sort of thinking can go very wrong very fast. What if I work hard this year but end up at another very difficult school next year? Will I deserve that? I understand that attributing good things to luck takes away a certain sense of power over your life, but the simple fact is that there are many things in life we don't have power over. This year, I consider myself lucky. If my situation is not as good next year, I'll remember the good times I had this year, and hope that my next posting is better. The danger in feeling like you deserve good things is that sometimes you don't get good things. In those cases, do you chide yourself and say that you should have worked harder in order to deserve (and therefore get) good things? Or do you get mad at the world because you didn't get something you felt you deserved? Of course we should always try to make the best of every situation, and put our best effort into whatever we do. I can't help but think, though, that effort is not the only thing determining success. When things go right, I like to remember that at least some part of it was thanks to luck. Next time around, it may not work out... but what if that's a good thing? Good for humility, good for a reminder that we're just human, good for a basis of comparison (can you truly be happy if you've never known sadness?). All too often, we don't know what we've got till it's gone. I am lucky in this respect: I know and deeply appreciate what I've got, because I didn't have it last year.
That's my thanksgiving reflection.

Oliver Jones Live In Concert

One word to describe my experience this evening: WOW. Tonight, Phil and I saw Oliver Jones (jazz pianist) live in concert, thanks to Phil's dad. From beginning to end, the performance was flawless, breathtaking, exciting, thrilling, awe-inspiring, entertaining, skillful... and so much more. There was not a single moment where I was anything less than enthralled by the playing. I didn't know all the songs he played, but I knew most of them.
Wow. I still can't believe it.
Jones was playing with a bassist and a drummer - both of whom were wonderful musicians. The bassist had an instrument that looked like a regular wooden double bass, but with both sides chopped off. It also had a sort of vase sticking out from where the soundboard would be - for his bow. All through the evening he alternated between plucking and bowing the strings. It was wonderful. The drummer was young (Jones made a joke about it) but unbelievable! In some ways, he stole the show. His playing was, to my ear, flawless. I was especially impressed with his skill with the brushes. So much energy in his playing, and his timing was dead on with everything that Jones did.
And then the pianist himself. Before he came on, there was an opening group that had won some award from the festival. I wasn't very impressed with them and after their first (and only) song, Phil leaned over and whispered "boring" in my ear and I wholeheartedly agreed! Then the bassist and drummer for Oliver Jones came out and started playing... and after a few seconds, Oliver Jones himself walked out on stage to huge applause. Then the concert really began and was impressive from the very first note. I know I'm sensationalizing this right now, but I really did enjoy it that much! They played fast songs, they played ballads, they each had solos, they all played together, they played a song with some 20th century idioms, they played a Caribbean influenced song. It was just all so good. Like a massage for my ears.
Then Oliver Jones announced he had a special treat for the audience, and a lady (don't remember her name) came out on stage... AND THEY SHARED THE PIANO! They played Autumn Leaves - one of my favorite jazz tunes. First of all, they took turns. He then she then he then she. Then the bass and drums came in and he comped and she improvised (very well). After a verse or two, she got up and switched seats with him: she comped and he improvised! Then they went back and forth: she improvised half a verse, he finished the verse... to someone who couldn't see what was going on at the piano, I'm not sure you could tell there were two separate people playing. They didn't have drastically different styles, and they complemented each other so well. No one tried to outdo the other. It was so much fun to watch and listen to!
The whole concert... wow.

...And then I got home and stood on my porch to watch the last little bit of the fireworks competition - also quite fabulous :)
Two fantastic nights in a row... what a nice change from grumpy incompetence!

One Year

One year ago today, Phil and I got married. Then I moved to Montreal away from all my family and friends and started a job. This year has been full of frustration and disappointment, but none of that has been caused by my relationship with my husband. In fact, I'm sure that without him, I would not have been able to deal with everything life threw at me this year.
Tonight we went out to dinner to celebrate this special occasion. We went for supper at the Hilton and it was a flawless evening. We're still in shock. After a year of struggling with the incompetence of other people, it was amazing to have an evening where nothing went wrong, there were no misunderstandings, and we didn't have to deal with any rude people.
We started off by leaving the house almost an hour before our reservations. I wanted to enjoy the lounge or public area that all hotels have - especially nice ones. We ran into traffic, but it didn't matter because we knew we had loads of time to get to the hotel. After parking, we sat in the bar area and a waiter came up and took our drink order. The waiter was extremely polite, and when the drinks came, he served them with incredible flair. It was our own little show - we loved it! We calmly sipped our drinks while listening to some live jazz, care of the Montreal Jazz Festival. A little after 6pm, we sauntered into the restaurant - the only guests there. We were seated at the nicest table in the place: right next to the window, looking out onto the terrace with the garden and decorative pool. The terrace was closed because of impending rain, so there were no people to block our view of the beautiful garden. Both of our waiters were incredibly polite, respectful, calm, helpful... We knew we were in for a good evening.
After the most delicious bread I have ever had (it was sliced super thin and I think it had been coated with a garlic oil and then lightly baked), our appetizers came. The presentation was, again, amazing. And they tasted great. Phil and I both had the pheasant as our main course and I thought I was in heaven. The pheasant had a sort of soy sauce, but it wasn't the only attraction. There was also a shrimp and asparagus portion, in a cream sauce. I may have enjoyed that even more than the pheasant! The shrimp and asparagus together in the cream sauce was the perfect taste combination. There were also mini squash and a white fibrous vegetable I couldn't identify - also fabulous. To accompany our dinner we had an exquisite Bordeaux. It was a very fine wine! I savored every single morsel of that meal.
For dessert, I had chocolate mousse with raspberry sauce - and two strawberries (juiciest ever) and some raspberries on the side. Phil had a strawberry and cream cheese dessert, with a Brazilian coffee. This was no ordinary coffee - it was also presented beautifully. The waiter came up with a cart and a burner. He sugared the glass, poured in some cognac and set it on fire, then used it to caramelize the sugar on the rim of the glass. More burning, then the coffee was added, and then what I believe was clotted cream. It was another exciting show, and it smelled amazing. As we were eating our dessert, the maitre'd brought a little tray of chocolates and shortbreads to our table. We were too full to enjoy them fully, but they were deluxe. After the cheque was paid, our main waiter asked us if we were celebrating anything special and then had a nice little conversation with us.
Fabulous service, impressive showmanship, polite and pleasant people, delightful company... It was the perfect evening. Phil and I felt like royalty. What a wonderful first anniversary - I will remember this forever.

The Prime Of Life

(Originally posted April 6, 2007)
. when exactly is the 'prime of life'? is it when you're in high school? is it early 20s? late 30s? this question haunts me sometimes. how will i know when i'm in the prime of life? what if i've already passed it? how long does it last? is it for one year? does it last a decade? what does it feel like? i wonder about this. i'm 23 years old. i've graduated university, gotten married, i have a job, i have a car, i have a condo, i buy groceries. is this the prime of life? i wake up most mornings with a feeling of dread and come home from work most days completely exhausted and frustrated. is this the prime of life? i'm supposed to be young and full of vigor - i've just come out of university so i should be brimming with ideas and passion. but i'm not. i count down every single minute until i get to go home, and then i spend the afternoon and evening waiting for the time when i can go to sleep to forget about how scared i am about work and how to deal with difficult students and is the toilet leaking or is it condensation and is the car locked and are the dishes done and is the car safe and what am i going to teach tomorrow.

according to answers.com, the prime of life is "the time of maturity when power and vigor are greatest"... which seems like a good definition. i'm just unsure of how you calculate that. i think it's pretty safe to say that this is not my prime. actually, by that definition, i probably won't hit my prime for at least another 5 or 6 years - maybe even 10. i think i can live with that... at least it takes some pressure off of me for now.

*phew*

The Value Of Friendship

(Originally posted June 1, 2007)

since joinging up on facebook, i've gotten to reconnect with so many old friends. but i'm constantly bombarded with happy memories. that may seem like a good thing, but it joften ust reminds me that all i have are memories - i have no friends here. i'm not making memories, except with phil . i always have to add that part, but really your husband can't be the only human contact you have. it's not enough. i'm talking to friends and reliving memories from many different previous lives - all of them with very strong, very happy memories. and i sit here remembering those times, wishing i could relive them, and wondering if i will ever be happy like that again, if i'll ever have friends again. if i'll ever make people laugh again. if i'll ever make people spontaneously hug me with gratitude.
i'm expieriencing acute sorrow. and i think i'm almost ready to gather myself together and start my new life. i don't feel bad that it took me this long to sort everything out. all the changes i went through... it was too much information to absorb at once. now things have kind of settled and i have a better idea of my goals - as opposed to my one single goal for the first few months of life in montreal: don't die.

connecting with old friends on facebook just confirms the nagging doubt i had all through my school years where good marks were most important to me: friendship is important. spending time with people is important. that's something that sometimes struck me about movies and tv shows: people in these shows have work to do... but you never see them studying or working on the show. no, of course not. you see them hanging out with their friends and spending time with people. and in the back of my mind i knew that this was a sign that relationships are what lasts, what matters. looking back on my life, i don't remember how many times i got a good mark on my test. i don't remember what my marks from high school or even university were - i remember the parties i went to. i remember the nights spent with my friends. and part of me sighs, because i put so much energy into marks. my job this year has shown me just how little those marks are worth in real life. this year has given me a great deal of frustration and fear, but it has also given me a chance to do some real soul searching. i've spent a lot of time reflecting on what is important to me, where i have been and where i want to go. my experience with facebook has really shown me that friendships and memories last forever. and, for the first time in a very long time, i'm feeling the desire to do what it takes to become a good friend. a really good friend. not just the sort of friend who will do anything for you the moment you ask - i want to become the sort of friend who hangs out with you and can sense when you need something. the kind of friend who is really involved in your life. i wasn't this kind of friend with any of my friends in newfoundland. i guess after moving around so much my whole life i was just scared to get involved because i knew i'd just have to move away again. i was more focused on the pain of leaving and missing them than on all the fabulous memories i could make with them. i was also incredibly insecure in high school, and (at least socially speaking) for most of university as well. i held all my friends at arm's length - loved them dearly, but hung back because i was so scared of rejection. i guess i spent so much time studying because it was easy, formulaic: work hard, get a good mark, feel good about yourself.

...now that i've had a chance to reflect on who i am and what i like and what my personality is and all that sort of stuff, i'm not as scared of social situations as i used to be. i think i'm ready to invest in my friendships now and not worry so much about whether i say the right thing or react the right way. it all works out... and i want very much to have lots more happy memories to look back on, instead of having love affairs with term papers.

i'm growing up.

A Mother's Legacy

(Originally posted June 18, 2007)
when i was really young and had to use the washroom in a public place, mom showed me how to put toilet paper on the seats so that you don't get other people's bum germs. then i got a bit older but mom would still remind me to put toilet paper on the seat. in the beginning, i hated it. i was pretty much a tomboy as a kid and i hated that girls always took longer to pee than guys - when our family went on road trips, dad and adam ALWAYS finished first. i used to see how fast i could get out of the washroom, but they were always done before me. i thought putting toilet paper down was dumb. it wasted precious time, and besides - who cared if you got other people's bum germs? in my little child mind, i reasoned that it wasn't really germ-free to begin with (i had recently learned the phrase "so clean you could eat off of it" (usually referring to floors) and this always went through my head as i grumbled about putting the toilet paper on the seat: it's not like i was going to eat off of it so why did other people's germs matter?) ah how things change when you get older. ignorance really is bliss.

despite all my grumbling, i would still dutifully put toilet paper on the seat whenever i was in a public washroom. then i grew up and got married and moved away from home. and i was out shopping with phil the other day and had to use one of the washrooms in the mall. i was putting toilet paper on the seat (to avoid other people's bum germs) when it hit me: no one was telling me to, but it's something i learned and had come to believe very strongly in.

when you're in a public washroom, put toilet paper on the seat before you use it. that's the legacy my mom passed to me, and if i ever have a daughter, i will pass it on to her.

The Middle Of Your Movie

(Originally posted June 4th, 2007)
I'm sure this analogy has been made before, but it's helped me so i don't care if it's cliché. i'm talking about being in the middle of your movie. legally blonde is one of my all-time favorite movies. elle woods is the main character. from the very first time i saw the movie, i was inspired by her spunk and determination. i wished i could be like her. i was mesmerized by her confidence... but every now and then i think about what it would be like for the movie to be real - for it to last a year and a half instead of an hour and a half. we see her preparing for the LSATs for 10 minutes, but what would it be like to experience it for 5 weeks? we see elle struggling with mean classmates and teachers who pick on her for about 20 minutes - what would it be like to experience that for 4 months?

i wonder the same thing whenever i see a movie where the character undergoes a big change - legally blonde, the devil wears prada, dangerous minds, mr. holland's opus... they struggle for a while, then something happens for them and they make a big change in their attitude or their approach and all of a sudden things fall into place for them.

for elle woods, the big change comes after warner turns her down again at the party where she dressed up like a bunny b/c the mean girls told her it was a costume party - after that, she gets the kick-ass vanessa carlton track, buys a computer, studies her butt off and starts to gain respect.

in the devil wears prada, this moment comes after meryl streep has changed her mind on the spur of the moment and dismisses her and she goes down to complain to stanley tucci in the photography room. she's bummed and ready to give up and then decides to go into it wholeheartedly. she completely changes her hair, makeup, wardrobe... and continues to do so.

when we see it in movies, we don't really think about all the work it takes to succeed. we don't really see the hours of studying and reading, we don't see the hours of makeup and hair and eyelash curling and the blisters on feet from walking in fancy shoes. we just see the new levels of respect garnered by these efforts. we see elle answering questions correctly in class. we see meryl streep dump her coat and purse on emily's desk instead... and we feel so good for these characters!! we rejoice in their victories.

but it took months of heartache to get there. and it takes hours of work and sacrifice to stay there. that's the reality of it. in my life, (thinking of elle woods as a role model) i wanted to be respected and admired. and for months and months, i was harassed and very much DISrespected! and it bothered me so badly. but then i realized: i'm in the middle of my movie. and that's all i can do about it. i know the time is coming when i'll get my kick-ass music, but it's not for a little while yet. and that's ok. in order to get to the part of the movie i want, i need to be patient, and i need to work my butt off!

Inquiring Minds Want To Know

That's something my dad always used to say after he would ask a question. It's always stuck with me. Thanks to my dad, I've developed an inquiring mind. Sometimes I just ponder things, and thanks to the internet, I can now post those ponderings . I've had a blog with msn for a few months now, but I'm just not fond of the layout so I'll be re-posting some of my blog entries on this site. It will mess up the archives, but I'm probably the only one who will be bothered by that ;)
Don't expect to see too much information about my life and daily activities here. I sincerely doubt that you want to know how many forks and knives I washed after dinner, or be informed that there are only 198 teaching days left in the year, so I'll keep that kind of information to myself. I will be sharing my musings, like I mentioned earlier. Feel free to comment at any time.
Enjoy :)