It was 1:30am on a busy Saturday night. I was working at The Pub with another bartender, Geo. Our friends were there, drinking raucously and joyfully carrying on. I was in the pass rolling cutlery while the dishwasher washed the floor. With two full pitchers in his hands, Geo walked through to deliver crisp beer to a thirsty table. He was walking, he was talking and in one second he was flying through the air, the freshly washed floor having created a surprisingly slippery surface. He landed, flat on his back – with two full pitchers of beer in his hands. “THE BEER IS OKAY!” he yelled out to a silent bar, full of witnesses to his potentially embarrassing situation. The crowd cheered and in one moment he became a legend. (2007)

It was the last day of my fourth year of University. I was running across campus in my pyjamas, with an 82 page final project in my hands. I hadn’t gone to bed the night before and I was scheduled to work at The Pub 15 minutes earlier. I was cursing my project partner for not having completed her portion of the project, causing me one last sleepless University night. My eyes had bags under them and my hair was noticeably greasy. I handed the project in just under deadline and drove to The Pub. I burst in to see two of my favourite coworkers and I looked at them and cried. I had just finished University and in that moment, my life was starting. (2008)

I was sitting cross-legged on the comfortable, dated, green leather couch, and Tim was on the computer in the bedroom. I was talking to Kate on the phone, exclaiming about a mutual friend’s freshly announced pregnancy. “I told her my sisters better not get pregnant soon or I’ll have to move home!” Kate, ever so nonchalantly, said “Well, then you’re going to have to move home.” I laughed it off, telling her I was kidding and no one was pregnant. “No, Leah. You’re going to have to move home soon.” My mind dropped and I told her to say it, to spell it out for me. “I’m pregnant,” she finally confirmed. I laughed and screamed and cried. “I have to put the phone down! TIM! TIM COME HERE!” With the phone sitting in my lap, I cried. I was feeling emotions I didn’t even know I knew how to feel. A new life was starting. (2010)

My best friend is in broadcast journalism school and asked if she could make a video of me doing chores in the morning for a project and of course I agreed. Hello, what great blog fodder and who doesn’t love a vlog? HUGE thanks to my bff Leah – yes, we have the same name – for doing this!

So enjoy taking a peek into my current life, and also what life was like when we were kids and had to go to the barn when we misbehaved.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=1NsH2FS3WrQ

Ever

When people say “ever”, as in “I had the best time ever.” Because really? You had the best time EVER? Never, ever in your life have you had a better than the that time you had the best time EVER? I am all for exaggeration and blowing things out of proportion to get your point across, but this one irks me. Let’s be a bit more imaginative next time. How about “I had so much fun that I accidentally punched my friend in the face.” (True story, by the way. Last week at the airport. I witnessed an proposal and … let’s just say it was messy and there were tears involved.)

Just

When people describe themselves as “just” something (especially bloggers). I don’t know why, I think it’s a feminist/women empowerment  thing that I have, but when I see a blogger describe themselves as “just” this/that in their “about” section I don’t believe them. Obviously they think they are something special or they wouldn’t have started a blog. I would never describe us as just five sisters because we aren’t. We are five fabulous, wonderful, interesting women who write  this blog for each other. As soon as I see the word just in an about page, my eyes immediately glaze over.

Money

I just want to do it all, is that so hard to ask? How is it that I budget so hard and have a good income and a partner with a good income but somehow it isn’t enough. Ugh. I even stopped drinking to support my dedicated budget. Who is this person that has replaced me? I wore a pencil skirt and tights to work today. Really. Who IS this person that has replaced me? (I looked really good by the way).

Wheels

I have a beef with wheels. As in, I wish everything had wheels. I would pack my Calgary life into one long convoy and truck it across Canada so I could be closer to my family. Especially my condo – I never want to live anywhere else. But Mr. Leah pointed out that if it had wheels, then it would be a trailer. You know what? I lived in a trailer for the first few years of my life. And my Dad maintains that those were the best years of his life. Simple. Uncomplicated. Six people, one trailer, the front yard of my grandparent’s house. I could handle it again.

Now I almost feel better. Thanks for listening, blog.

What are you ranting about right now? It feels good to get it out, so rant away in the comments. Really, I want to know.

This year I don’t need to give up buying clothes (in fact I should probably start buying clothes again), and I don’t feel that I even eat enough junk food to warrant giving that up. I always try to give something up that will really change my life or at least be pretty difficult. While Erica said that she doesn’t like being told when to start something new (as in New Years Resolutions) I actually really like it, and Lent in particular since it comes with measurable dates to start and stop. I could start exercising more, but let’s be honest , it’s winter and I live in Canada. But Kent is running every day for Lent so I’m sure I’ll get out there with him when it’s not snowing.  Just not every day.

Now that we’ve established that I’m perfect and I don’t need to give up anything (juuuust kidding!), I’ll tell you what I did decide to give up:

For Lent, I’m giving up procrastinating.

Does anyone else have that ongoing list of small tasks that need to get done eventually, but that never seem pressing? I do, but I wrote them all out a few weeks ago and haven’t crossed any off since. On it is everything from getting my last name change officially finished, printing honeymoon pictures and some more wedding photos, hanging the quilt my Oma made us as a wedding gift (apparently wedding tasks are not my forte even six months later), fixing my coffee table, painting a bookshelf, filling me and Kent’s ipods with songs, organizing all the photos and videos on our computer, fixing my car tire, vacuuming my car, getting Kent’s ring sized finally… the list goes on! (For two and a half notebook pages, to be exact.) For Lent, I’m going to finish EVERYTHING on this list.

I wrote out everything I could possibly think of yesterday and then felt extremely overwhelmed with everything I need to do in the next forty days. But I got started on it right away, and last night in the hour between school and my evening course, I got all my honeymoon photos printed along with some wedding photos, and bought an album to put them in. I also made an appointment to get my name changed on my health card today, and Kent has been instructed to get our tire and coffee table fixed today (okay so maybe I’m not doing it all on my own.) I’m excited, not about doing all of these things but about having them all done.

Although to be honest, I’m a little worried that tasks like these keep adding up and I will keep adding things to the list forever. I’m curious, how does everyone else deal with these little tasks? Are you good at staying on top of things or like me do you have pages of things that need to get done eventually?

Seriously. I hate it. January and I? Not friends. We don’t get along. Never have, perhaps never will. Many people use January as their starting point. A launching pad for new adventures. A time for resolutions and reflection. For me, making new resolutions is a reminder of the old resolutions I haven’t fulfilled from years past. Reflection reminds me of not just the high points of the year, but also the low points.

I wish I could tell you that this past January was different. I wish I could tell you that I stepped up my game, told myself “I rock!” and focused my efforts on bettering myself personally and professionally. But I can’t, because I didn’t. Instead, I looked up articles on seasonal affective disorder and how my medication could be negatively affecting my emotions and physical condition. I tried to find a way to blame my feelings on anything other than myself. I slept too much. I watched too much crappy daytime television. I put off reaching out to old co-workers who reached out to me after I lost my job. I imagined being a better person. I imagined reinventing myself. I imagined how it will feel when I’m done school. When I find a job. When we buy a house. When we start a family. If. When.

I found myself not caring anymore. One year ago we had a plan. It fell apart. I was upset for a long time, but in January? In January I didn’t care. I didn’t care whether we ever move out of our little apartment. I didn’t care whether we ever buy a house. If I ever find a job. If we ever start our family.

But it’s February now.

February is my new starting point. I believe that the ‘new year’ is arbitrary – every day is the beginning of a new year, technically. The first 9 days of this month have held more promise and more achievements for me than the last 3 months have. I’ve finished school projects early, had an interview for a very exciting job, and found some job prospects in unexpected places. I want things again. I care about getting those things. The house is cleaner. I’m organizing my stuff. I hired my own personal cheerleader. I’m making an effort in areas of my life that I never have before. I have time to knit, and that just makes me happy. I was able to give my first knitted baby hat to Hailey – she has to grow into it a little more, but it is just adorable.

Now that, my friends, is a reason to start over.