Enter: Ali

Ali is one in a long line of people lately who've stepped up to the plate without even realising it. Ali is a girl who's given me a permanent address, a room with a desk, a fully loaded kitchen, and somewhere to live without flipping out about the fact that I'm a temp and have no guaranteed income after the holidays. Hell, technically as a temp, I have no guaranteed income on Monday.

But, back to Ali, my lovely new flatmate. She's English but picked up a Kiwi accent after her 5 years there. She referees rugby (also picked up in NZ), loves to cook, and says she's been spending a lot of time at her boyfriend's house as of late. She seems chill and laid back and owns the flat I'll be moving into, so there's no dealing with agencies and all that drama.

I'm excited about Ali and the flat. Ali because she seems fun, and the flat because, well, it seems pretty awesome. It's in the neighborhood I wanted, with a nice living room, a spare room for guests and kitchen I like (Ali caters part time, so the kitchen is fully loaded), and she's even buying me a small desk so I can be productive in my room. I can use it as a base to apply for jobs, work on writing, edit pictures and maybe even produce the Big Idea.

Step 1 - Temp job. Done.
Step 2 - Place to live. Done.
Step 2.5 - Get stuff from both my flats (the one I stay in now and the one I shared with my ex) into said new flat. Partly done by this weekend, the rest by Nov 11 when the lease runs out on the flat I shared with the ex.
Step 3 - Find a permanent job. Working hard on it. Hopefully I manage it before the job ends so I don't end up back on Step 1 again!
Step 4 - Photograph / write / work on Big Idea. Well, that's next. Soon. I can feel it coming.


A kiwi for Ali

Mantras and Shit to Do

Way back when I worked at a summer camp in The States (the one where I met the girl who invited me to come visit her in England), I was having a rough week. Some petty friend dramas and some petty boy dramas, along with some somewhat less petty issues with my campers had left me feeling a bit shaky. I was talking to the camp shrink (literally. A shrink. At a camp.), Debbie and she, in the manner of shrinks you see on TV, what I was going to do about it all.

Without a moment's hesitation, I said that I'd have to "push through, move on". The words weren't my own. I'd borrowed (stolen?) them from a guy who I worked with at the bar during the school year. Whenever anything bad happened, that was what he'd tell you to do. Hung over? Push through, move on. Get dumped? Push through, move on. Dog run away/fail an exam/have a big old zit? Push through, move on.

The shrink looked at me for a second, and then said that, actually, that's a pretty brilliant philosophy. Sometimes it isn't all sunshine and roses. You push through the bad bits, then you move on to the rest. And sometimes, even years after the fact, I'd find the voice inside my head telling me to push through and move on.

When my most recent drama llama went down, I needed a new motto. Push Through Move On didn't even pop into my head. Maybe it didn't fit. Luckily, a new philosophy arrived in my life just when I needed it most.

A word first about the lovely Jasmine. I've always thought that I've been blessed with amazing friends. Among the amazingest of those is Jasmine. Jas and I met when we were 8 years old. I'd just moved to a new street, and on my first day there I went out for a bike ride. The first girl I biked past took one look at me, ran inside and slammed the door. That was Jasmine. A couple hours later I went past again, and she came up to me and said sorry she'd gone, she was a bit shy...but she had a lot of people I should meet! Meet Nick, she told me. And meet Samantha. But don't meet ____* and _____*, they're mean!" Even back then, she was looking out for me.

During my time back in Canada following the breakup, I visited Jas and her fiance Dave. Jas told me about another friend of hers, a guy named Chris who was recovering from the disintegration of an 8 year long relationship. He was facing divorce, and she said he'd been pretty crushed by it all. I asked how he'd coped. She said that eventually, he'd turned to his soon-to-be ex wife and said "You have to leave now. I have shit to do."

And just like that, a new mantra. "I have shit to do."

I don't want to minimize how much this whole breakup dealie has sucked for me. I know I'm writing a rah rah positive blog, and that's because I am trying very hard to turn this into a positive. In fact, I'm trying to make it so that one day I look back and say that this whole crisis was the best thing that ever happened to me. But that doesn't mean that some days it doesn't still get to me.

And that's where shit to do comes in. I do have shit to do. I have novels to write and marathons to run and flats to find and jobs to apply for and friends to see and a Big Idea to work on. I have a lot of shit to do. And when sad or angry or unhappy memories of my ex, our breakup, all the stuff that went along with it sneak up, I can tell him that I have shit to do. And normally, that's enough to bring me back to the present and where I'm at today.

And where am I? I've come so far. 4 months ago, I'd stopped eating, to the point where some of my brokest friends were bringing me tempting foods in hopes I'd take a bite or 2. I was crying at work. I literally had no idea what to do. No idea where to live or where to work or what I wanted my life to be about. I was a mess.

And now, I eat loads. I'm slowly walking down the career path I want, with eyes to branching out into my own ventures once I have a solid income. I run and write and am figuring out exactly what I want from my life. Even better, I'm going after it. My progress might be slow, but it's solid. Everything that happens is something I've chosen, and something that makes me happy.

Shit to do...


Grey skies are gonna cheer up...

*Names left out to protect the mean

Slow and Steady (that's how I roll...and run)

The morning run was a big old success! I left home at 6:40, arrived at work just after 8, and smashed that 5.6 miles in the face! Even better news, as of Friday I can now run about 1/4 of a marathon (just under, but it sounds pretty cool!). If I can keep that up a couple mornings a week, I think I'll be in good shape come April.

Speaking of being in shape, I have an appointment with a doctor this week, in order to request a certificate of health. Paris requires this, apparently, in order to be officially registered in their marathon. After that, I can contact a charity, inform them that I'd like to raise money on their behalf, and then get crackin' on that side of things. Stay tuned to see see my chosen cause! I promise not to be a pest about it all, since it seems like these days everyone and their sister is running for a cause.

In other news, things in my life are progressing nicely. Slowly, but nicely. The running is back on track, the temp job is great because I have some time to find a real job, and hopefully I'll be in a nice, more permanent flat soon. I'm just itching to be settled. My stuff is spread over 2 flats, and I'm dreading moving out of the one I shared with my ex boyfriend. It'll be sad and frustrating in equal measures, not to mention just annoying to get stuff physically moved. Now that a bit of money is coming in, the next step is getting all my stuff under one roof, and feeling like I have a home.

I know Rome wasn't built in a day, and I've actually made some pretty killer progress over the last few weeks. Looking at where I was a month ago, I can see I've made some pretty big steps. I'm just getting impatient. I have all this administrative stuff hanging over me, and it'll be such a big load off once it's done. I want to focus on stuff like my writing, running, photography and, of course, my Big Idea. not moving from flat to flat and contacting the banks to, once again, change my address.

One thing at a time, yo. I'm doing it.



A place to lay my head?

Here goes!

Well, it's 6:30 am, still dark outside and I'm about to head off on my first ever run to work!

I've been bad about running the last couple weeks. A visit by a friend, followed by a job interview, followed by blisters from new shoes from that job interview, followed by working my tail off at that new job... well, it's been almost 2 weeks. Eep!

Work is 6 miles away. It takes a good hour on the bus in the morning (I take the bus because it's pretty much door to door. And way cheaper). So, why not run the 6 miles once a week. I only had to get up an hour earlier. There's a shower at work, and I've stashed some shampoo and clothes there to change into after. I'm sure I've forgotten something, but it's a learning process.

I'm learning to fit more stuff into my life again. Running wasn't happening after work. It's getting dark too early and I always find myself doing things after work. So, I'll squish it in before! If I love it, I'll do it again. If not, well, at least I tried.

Fingers crossed for a sunrise as I run over the bridge... and wish me luck!


Okay, it's a sunset, but you get the point.

Turning Points

Until a few months ago, I could pinpoint the moment in my life where everything changed. There was this hug.

It was at that leadership conference, the first one I ever went to. At the end, I was hugged by a crying guy, which made me cry a bit and want to go back the next year. I did go back, which led me to other conferences. I met new people. I became more outgoing and confident. And ultimately, even though I was rejected for leadership role at the one conference that meant the most to me, that changed me too. It kept me humble, and it gave me something to prove.

That hug changed the course of my life (and I'm not even talking about the monster crush that it inspired). It made me go to activities I never would have considered, like summer camp, which led me to a different summer camp, which led me to visit a friend I met there in England, which inspired a really bad case of the travel bug. That led to me discovering photography, the desire to live overseas, and even blogging.

I can pretty much draw a straightish line from most aspects of my life back to that hug. I have no idea where I'd be today if I'd bent to tie my shoe or wandered off to the other side of the room instead of staying put and being hugged.

I think, recently, I've had another turning point. I've had to let it sink in for a few weeks, but after mulling it over I'm pretty sure. Jack Layton's death, and the events immediately surrounding it. Meeting my old friend a couple days before reminded me who I am. And then Mr. Layton died, and reminded me of my potential, of who I want to be. From there I did a bunch of roaming and even more thinking. Loving, hopeful and optimistic, and we'll change the world. Words to live by.

So I will.

One down (lots to go)....

Yes! I have a temp job! It's a 2 month gig with a nice, small charity and it starts tomorrow.

Next up: Flat and permanent job.

I could sing. Well, actually I can't sing at all. But this is pretty awesome news. Not only is it money, but it's a tiny, tiny step in a very good direction.



I'm on my way!

A Thanksgiving Special

I read somewhere that it is impossible to feel fear and gratefulness at the same time.

I'm a bit scared today. The money situation is dwindling, and I think I'm gonna struggle to find a flat until I'm in full time (non temp) employment. At the moment, I'm not even getting the temp gigs.

Last week, I made myself a plan.

In order of priority / occurrence -
1. Get a job, any old temp job, so that I have money coming in.
2. Get a place to live / get a permanent job. These are tied. Whichever comes first, really.
3. Maybe take a second job, just for the holidays to bring in a bit of extra bring
4. After the holidays, start to focus on The Project (yes, it gets capitals) and photography as side gigs.

It sounds all nice and easy on paper, but I feel like my wheels are spinning a bit. I just wanna get cracking, and instead I'm going to see flat after flat and emailing agency after agency. I'll get there. I know I will. I'm just a bit scared today.

So. To combat the fear. What am I grateful for?
1. A roof over my head. A friend of a friend took me in, is charging me "mates rates" rent, and I can stay till I've found a more permanent flat.
2. My friends and family. They've housed me, listened to me, advised me, and done their best to help me in any way they can. I'm a lucky person to have such special people in my life.
3. My freedom. I was in pretty rough shape a few months ago. My living situation / relationship / life was causing me so much stress that I was waking up some mornings unable to open my mouth. Apparently I'd been clenching my teeth so hard all night that I'd actually manged to lock my jaw. It wasn't healthy. I wasn't eating, sleeping or enjoying my life. Now, for all the money stress and lack of employment, I am still happier than I was back then.
4. London. I'm glad this place exists, and that I get to live here.
5. Me. When the going got tough I...well, I guess I crumbled a bit. But then I picked myself back up, dusted myself off, and am in the process of building something I love here. I'm grateful that when the going got tough I coped. Not perfectly, maybe not even well, but I had the presence of mind to seek out that which would help me cope. And now that I've coped, I'm grateful that I have the will to flourish. It hasn't happened yet, but it will. I'll make it happen.

There are more, obviously. I could ramble on all day about being grateful for my favourite hoodie or Korean food or this or that, but I'll spare you.

Instead, I'll leave you with just one more thing I'm grateful for -

A million adventures in my life, and the ability to feel awe at each and every one. I never want to become jaded.

Happy (Canadian) Thanksgiving!

Support

One of my frosh (freshers, orientees, whatever. To me, they're my frosh. Take that!) facebooked me today. I hadn't spoken to her in years, but she needed help with an essay she was writing. I get the vibe it was due about 20 minutes after the message went out.

I helped her as best I could, and was rewarded with a "Thanks! I knew you'd come through for me!"

Nothing could have made me feel better. That's exactly what I wanted, still want, to be. All that time, at camp, at leadership conferences, at frosh week, I wanted to be someone who, years after the fact, can be counted on to come through.

In high school, I always thought it was a bit cheesy and hypocritical when we'd do a leadership conference, form a bond, and a couple weeks later it was all forgotten. One year, my group's leader was a popular, yet slightly icy girl a few years older than me. All weekend she was really sweet and open. I really came to admire and respect her. The Monday after the conference, she pretty much blanked me in the hallway. I felt betrayed. And I never, ever wanted to do that to anyone else. When applying to lead at the same conference a couple years later, I even made a big point of saying that in my essay. I believed that these leadership conferences were more about an attitude than playing nice for a weekend. I didn't get the gig, but as I said a couple days ago, I think that kept me humble. I didn't want to be a popular girl who'd blank people in the halls. I wanted to be present, available, someone who could always be counted on no matter what.

I'm glad I'm that person to someone. And I'm glad I have people who, years after the fact, are still looking out for me too.




Pulling together..

An Idea Strikes! (and no, it didn't hurt!)

Whoa. I don't want to say much just yet, but I think I have my idea.

Okay, let me say what you're all thinking. - Good work, hotshot. Start a blog about wanting to make a change, come up with a potentially cool idea and then... refuse to discuss it? That makes no sense.

Thing is, all I have is an idea. Not a plan, and no idea how I'm going to do it. Or, for that matter, if it's even doable. There's no point blah blah blahing all over the place before I even know what I'm talking about.

Here is what I know. I was walking down the street a couple days ago and there were little girls selling lemonade and candy on the side of the road. They said it was for charity. I gave them what I had in my wallet (not much, sadly) and wished them good luck.

And then my brain started to churn.

I want to have a direct impact on lives. I want to do good things for the world at large. I feel passionate about charities and giving back. So, what I want to do is start a program that helps get young people into the idea of volunteering. Makes them feel good and important. Makes the world a better place. Etc.

Ticks a scary number of boxes, eh? This could work. This could be my thing.

Well, first I have to get my life in order. Get a flat to live in. Get a job. And then, when I feel settled I can get to work on my side projects - photography, writing, marathon and this. I don't know exactly what that'll look like yet, and what kind of balance I'll strike (it might be a struggle!), but I do know I'm finally looking forward to stuff again.



Help them? Be helped by them?

Denied Has Never Tasted so Sweet (or more like a baguette)

The bad news - I wasn't accepted into the London Marathon. Not many people are. It's a lottery system, and I've heard 1 person out of 7 given as the odds for getting accepted on a first attempt, so I wasn't really expecting to. That's why I made myself a backup plan.

The good news - I'll be running in Paris! Better, I have an excuse to get back to Paris after 3.5 years away. As far as backup plans go, this one is none too shabby! I'd have rather run in London, because I want people to there to cheer me on (and carry me home after!). But Paris, I have friends there. And it's close enough that maybe I can lure a couple Londoners into coming too.

Maybe it's silly to want people there. I know, I'm supposed to be doing this for me. And I am, but I also remember when I ran cross country races in high school and I'd be struggling up a hill and from the top I'd hear my name being shouted and see the "gold, maroon and navy" (yellow, maroon and blue) shirts, and I just found I could dig that little bit deeper.

I think my old coaches would just about fall over from shock if he heard that I intend to run a marathon. I was never any good. In fact, I was downright awful. Like "I'm not sure she'll get through the warmup run without needing a rest" awful. And yet, of that entire team, I'm the only one who stayed on all 5 years. I was never good. When our team qualified for the Ontario championships, I was on the sidelines cheering the team on. I wasn't good enough to run. But a few years ago, my mom ran into the head coach, and she introduced herself as my mom. According to her, he remembered my "spirit and enthusiasm". That's a compliment, and I'll take it.

I think there are a couple lessons in there somewhere.

1 - Keep plugging. I know I've said it before, but it's true. "The race is not always to the swift, but to those who keep on running."

2 - The less obvious lesson, I think, is also one I've heard before. There is more than one way to be a _____ (fill in whatever you want to be here). I remember in high school I wanted more than anything else in the world to be selected as a leader for our school's leadership conference. The application progress was rigorous and the odds of getting accepted were significantly lower than the London Marathon's. I didn't get chosen and my heart just about broke. I wanted to be a leader at school! I wanted to help younger students! A guy I knew said to me that I didn't need that position to do those things.

He was right. I made myself available to younger students at my school anyway. I started a women's hockey team. I was accepted to lead at other leadership conferences. And that rejection, as it turns out, I think it kept me humble. Since I had no title to back me up, all I had every day was the sum of my actions.

And here, now. There is no right way to be a runner. I won't be the swiftest or the strongest runner. I won't be the person who was born to run a marathon. I'll be the one sweating and gritting my teeth and doing it anyway.



A third lesson, if I'd been forced to choose one, would have been not to use my best Paris Marathon picture earlier. So, um, have an Eiffel Tower

Another London Treat

Oh, London.

The other day, I went to a cheese shop / cafe (I have a bit of a cheese-love thing) with my laptop for a couple hours to do some work. The manager was super nice, kept checking up on me to make sure I had what I needed, and just made the whole stay there extra pleasant.

Yesterday was gorgeous, warm and sunny. Imagine stereotypical English weather, and then imagine 180 degrees off that. That was yesterday. So, I went to Borough Market, one of my all time favourite London places. http://www.boroughmarket.org.uk/ for the curious. It's all food, mostly locally produced, all delicious.

Wouldn't you know it, the cheese shop manager happens to have a stall there! He walked past me, said hi, introduced himself, and the proceeded to feed me cheese! Even better than the cheese was running into yet another person. London, I love you.

After that, I started talking to the Mushroom Pate guy, who was equally friendly and offered to be my running buddy. I warned him that I am, in fact, the slowest runner on earth, so we'll see how that goes. Or if it goes. Regardless, he was friendly and the friendly thing makes me happy.

I just had such a geeky "I heart London" day, it really made me feel like I'm in the right place and doing the right thing. When I left Canada last, I wasn't 100% sure what I was doing coming back here. No flat, no job, minimal support system. But, London. I've always been drawn to this city. It's massive, but each chunk of it has it's own vibe. It's like living in a village, which is VERY close to roughly 1000 other villages.

And, as of today, I'm here and I'm happy for it. I am committing to getting settled now. I've resisted it a bit, but I'm a bit sick of having one foot out the door. With the ex, towards the end, I kind of felt like I shouldn't get too attached in case the worst happened (it did). And then I went to Canada, and now I'm here, and I want to feel at "home". I want to buy a 10 pound bag of rice and be around to use it all up, you know?


This would be an AWESOME place to come home to!