#15 It's okay to lose every once in a while

It's strange to even get that down on paper [i.e., on Ivan], coming from me, it is never okay to lose. There must be a spectacle made out of everything. I must always be grand and great and be fantastic. But every so often, it is okay not to be remarkable, every so often ordinary is allowed without that little bit of extra. I spent a solid three hours playing Cranium tonight. One once, was forced to forfeit the second time, and lost the third. There were some incredible moves and moments-- including my guessing which of the 2 names were not head coaches of the Maple Leafs (a legit guess, I had no idea who any of the options were) and tying the game, and then Rana's spectacular guessing skills at charades. She's fantastic! I spent a large part of each round telling the opposing teams not to get angry and yell at one another-- that game gets heated, seriously! So losing pissed me off, of course. But there was an incredible comeback each time, [shit, listen to me, sounds like I'm talking about the Olympics or something]. Anyway, my point is this-- that amongst all the spectacle, it is okay to lose. You do not have to be perfect at everything, you do not always need the medal or the honour or the gift or the title. Sometimes it's the process that counts. The hours of laughter and jokes and pants-peeing trumps the victory. Ask me tomorrow, and I wont remember who won, but ask me how Rana guessed baptism when I cradled a baby and did the sign of a cross and I will tell you how hard I laughed! So remember that the process is good times, and the result is just the ending. That's all-- there are no life altering experiences here. So when your partner screws you over and thinks that razor is a hammer, or when you land on go to jail or get called on your bluff, it really is okay. Honest. There will be more games, more rounds, more opponents. Just have fun for the time being.



...Because you can kick their ass next time.

Those Christmas lights light up the streets, may all your troubles soon be gone, those Christmas lights keep shining on

It's come and gone already. So bizarre. Maybe it's because I work in retail that I feel the intensity and preparation for Christmas that much more-- but it is insane. I feel like the preparation has been going on for months, and now, all of a sudden almost without warning it's already over. We spent days wrapping gifts, went through a dozen rolls of wrapping paper, two paychecks, loads of cheesecake and appetizers and here we are. Nada. Finito. Craziness guys.

It was good times nonetheless. We're growing up. Racha mentioned the other days how Christmas has lost it's magic, how when we were kids it was so much more incredible and so much more exciting. I don't think it is Christmas that has changed. I think it's us. I think that when we're kids everything is more fantastical.

We would spend days tearing the house apart looking for our gifts. We would nevr find them and the anticipation would kill us, but the surprise was enormous. The smiles would spread across our faces stretching from ear to ear. This year I bought my own gifts, literally, picked them out, tried them all on, put them in boxes, wrapped them up, then opened them all again. We missed mass because we were too lazy to go, church is all the way downtown, and let's face it, sleeping is the more likeable option. As kids mum and dad would force us up and got us dressed. Maybe this is what happens when you grow up.

Maybe it's not Christmas that loses its magic, but maybe its the fact that we stop believing in it. We stop believing in Santa and the stories and the hope. We lose sight of all of the things that got us excited.

Roba said that less people decorate their house these days. I don't think that's what it is, I think that twenty years ago it was the same people with their homes decorated with lights. But as kids when the seven of us hopped into dad's cab and drove around the streets looking at Christmas lights, they held this entirely separate magical entity that made those lights bigger and brighter then they were. There aren't less lights, I assure you.

It's us. It's age. It's growing up where the homes get smaller, traditions get lost, families fall apart, knowledge becomes far too vast, truth surfaces and replaces the magic.

I don't know if we can get it back. I don't know if I want it back. The magic was an illusion. Now, today, last night, is what Christmas is all about. And I know what you'll think (I didn't go to church so how could I know what Christmas is all about). Folks, let's face it, Christmas is a birthday, the birth day of Jesus, fine, but still a brithday. Birthdays are meant to be spent with family, celebrated together. And that was this holiday.

I know people who have tragically sad Christmases and it makes me appreciate the holidays even more. I've got my family, I've got my health, I've got a home and love and food and cheer. The holidays are different for everyone.

And it might have taken me a long time to figure it out, but what it eventually comes down to is that Christmas was never magic. It was all in your perception. And now, finally, my perception of the holidays is no longer clouded by stories of Santa and reindeer and hallmark poetry. It's there, clear enough to see, to finally understand.

With that said, I hope you had a Merry Christmas. And I genuinely mean it. Everyone says it to everyone else, but I wholeheartedly hope that it was merry. That you are happy, that you are with the people you love, that your bellies are full and that you took a moment to thank God for everything you've got.

It will be 2011 in just a few days, and another year will be behind us. There is so much potential in the world, so much potential for greatness but we're losing sight of them by visions fairy tales and fables.

Happy Happy Happy Holidays.

Comment on that comment

This got me thinking:

"I wished you a happy birthday on your wall. There's a plethora of word vomit that I kept backspacing on; why I couldn't just let the words flow, there is no good enough reason, only an excuse: I know how pissed off I get when someone jumps out of my past and tries to fit her edges into the present puzzle that is my life, how arrogant I assume they are to assume they still have a place waiting for her. So just in case that is the case here, I left it at that: happy birthday." comment on Nadia says I shouldn't blog when I'm sick.

First, this is my official plea, if you ever want to give me the luxury of commenting on anything here, please do not leave it anonymous. I know, sometimes we forget- but my crazy brain seriously runs through a list of every single person I know while decoding and analyzing your every word while I try and figure out who you are. So save me the insanity, please.

Anyway, this comment got me thinking. The trouble with friends, old friends, is that the attempt to re-enter your life becomes this inner battle of "what are they gonna think," or what will they say, or what does this say about me? The truth of the matter is this: if you think about someone enough, if you love them enough, if you find yourself wondering how they're doing-- then stop worrying so much about what your attempt to re-enter their life is going to say about you. If you were friends, at any point and for whatever reason the friendship is no longer there, I assure you that a big part of them wants you in their life too. No one likes to lose friends, not anybody. So if you need to think about it, if you feel it necessary to anonymously keep up with their lives via blogs/facebook/twitter etc, then get in there already!

I do not make garbage friends. If we were ever friends, then at one point or another things were good, things were great. So for the sake of what once was, just do it. Say what you need to say. Because really, what's the worst that could happen. We've already stopped speaking, I'm potentially still angry with what happened all those years ago...so what? You say something, try something and then I don't call you, or I don't return your messages, etc etc etc. That's where we stand right now. So what have you got to lose?

Meeting Leah

Jo, a walk through, so it`s like you`re there with me.

There is so much to tell you

But I will start with the most important--
I have rants that will surely come for late; rants and several updates.
But this is so much more important.

I have a video in the process of uploading, in which case it will follow in a subsequent post.

Here she is folks,
remember way back when I told you that Nadia was pregnant, well she isn't anymore--
Leah Dolce DeSantis
finally came around right on time, December 17th, around 3:20am. Tiny little girl at six pounds and eight ounces, she is absolutely perfect. No exaggeration. I do not think she could be more beautiful.

I love you already,

you have no idea. 

Nadia says I shouldn't blog when I'm sick

She's probably right. I get delusional, and depressed and feel it neccessary to bring down the rest of you with me. There's something about facebook that makes the world a more unsettling place-- and it's the birthday notifications. If you're like me, and you're absolutely horrible with birthdays, then you think that the birthday notification feature is fantastic. But when you're the recipient of all these birthday greetings, you really can't help but wonder whether or not these people remembered on their own, or whether it was the FB reminder. You spend a few minutes (or hours if you're neurotic like me) wondering which of the two it really is. Until finally you realize that of course they did not remember, of course it was the notification that reminded them. People just don't have those kinds of memories anymore. We have devices that remember all of these integral details for us. I really think that in a few years we will lose all our memory senses and simply technologically log everything that ever happens to us, with an index that we can reference at any given moment. I don't care if you remember my birthday. I did, once upon a time, but not anymore. And it is for this reason why I do not wish Happy Birthdays via wall posts or FB messages. If you are anyone to me, I will call you, or come see you, or send you a card-- that will be my birthday wish for you. But I will not tell you on your facebook, because let's face it, if that is what you're doing, chances are that without the notification you would have had no idea that it was my birthday. And that's fine-- our memories are garbage. But don't live under the pretense or assumption that the recipient will love you a little more for remembering. Because we know. I know, you didn't remember, you read about it.

They're supposed to be the best days

Birthdays-- they're supposed to be good days. The best days. They're supposed to be the days you wait all year for, the days you make big plans and have big parties with big groups of friends. They're supposed to be exciting. They should be a celebration. Tomorrow is my birthday. Tomorrow my plan is to sleep in, walk Boss, and then spend the remainder of the day laying with him on the couch, watching movies and pretending he's watching them too. This is how my day will go. There will be no party. No gatherings. No exciting, memorializing moments. Tomorrow will essentially be an anniversary of my birth, but really, it's just another day.

I used to be big on birthdays. I used to have a countdown, and I really couldn't wait. The anticipation started buliding up in early November where I compiled a long list of items that I wanted. This year I couldn't think of anything. This year I have made no plans. My sister said she wanted to do something, that she wanted to go out. I told her to go without me, for the simple reason that there is no one I would like to invite. One of my best friends is nine months pregnant, just about ready to give birth, there isn't a club in the world that would make her happy right now. The other is in another continent, far removed from any sensation of festivities. The third, I haven't spoken to in what has turned into months. The fourth I haven't seen/spoken to in what has become a year. And so, I am perfectly content with spending my birth day on a sofa, with my puppy. This is a good day for me.

But something happens when that day comes-- when you look around and you realize that your family, essentially, has become the sole source of celebration. It's an interesting moment when you compile a list of invitations only to come up empty handed. Years ago my list was too long, years ago I had to eliminate people off of my list. Today, the list does not exist. And I haven't quite figured out if this is a good thing. A part of me is just fine, perfectly okay with the way things are. Then another part of me is left wondering where the fuck did everybody go? You grow up, you grow out of each other. And eventually, like today, birthdays are just days, like the one before and the one to come.

I'm twenty two years old tomorrow. I'm twenty two, and I'm bitter and annoyed with the world. I'm annoyed that friendships are so easily lost and the time spent enforcing and strengthening them utterly fades away. I'm angry that I work my ass off for you-- that I buy you gifts, and write you cards, and send you letters and texts and do everything within my control to tell you that I still exist, and that I am still waiting-- and I have yet to hear from you. I'm frustrated that I'm that friend that fades into a distant story of what once was. I'm pissed off that on a day where I should be happy, all I can think about is how pissed off  you all have made me. I do not get it. I merely cannot remember when people stopped caring about friends, when efforts stopped being made. It's a pitiful world, an even more pitiful realization.

Birthday are supposed to be good days. They're supposed to be the best days.
Maybe I've grown too old for the hype.
Maybe it just doesn't matter anymore.
Maybe the recognition of the birth date is an essentially meaningless record.
After all, isn't every day a birth day? Why is mine any more special than all of those?

*And because some people just are more special,

Happy Birthday

to my sister, Racha.

I hope you have a good day--

I know that nothing remarkable will happen today--

But I hope you wake up on time, and that work goes by quickly, and that no customers yell at you, and that you catch your bus going to school, and that you do well on your quiz, and that when you come home you're not completely exhausted, and that you have a good night's rest. I really just hope that you have a good day, if nothing else.

Love you always kid,

Later, promise.

I never thought I could

And then facebook didn't log it, so when I play my high score is still registered as 5821. But I beat ittttt. Promise.



told you. My heart was racing and I tried to keep calm, then I crashed in the stupidest of ways. And now there's no record of it. Argh.

Stupid facebook.

#12 I learned what POS means

and it wasn't just from a quick google search, because I never really remembered to google it, or thought hard enough about it to try and figure it out. Anyway, if you've never heard of a POS it's because you're never worked in retail. If you work in retail, you know that the computer/register system where you process returns/sales is called the POS. So my point is that, the POS is the point of sale. Fuck. It makes so much sense, it's fantastic! The moment where you take someone's money from them in exchange for merchandise or a service-- that's the point of sale. ahh, genius.

So I learned because someone from Visa came by with pamphlets about the new CIBC Visa debit card. It's a new debit card that can be used as a Visa card if you're in a country/store that doesn't accept interac. It's a good idea really. So on this pamphlet it explains how to process the transaction on your point of sale, and then in italicized brackets it says (POS), and I had this revelatory moment. Six years in retail and only now am I discovering it.

There you have it, it's not just a senseless combination of letters that mean absolutely nothing, it's actually exactly what it is. Perfect. It's like a type writer. The definition is perfect for the item. A type writer writes type font. Perfect. Some things amaze me. Things like this.

Boss' First Snow 2010

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

#11 Just dump your shit on someone else

Did you even realize that it's December already? like really, i'm still standing by waiting for September. Fuck. Thats crazy shit. Anyway, so I really want to make more of an effort with my "what did i learn today" segment. Now i can't check where we left off, Eve doesn't give me that luxury...so we're just going to start with #11.

#11 What did I learn today?
I learned that...it is okay to dump your stress on other people. Now i'm not advocating this on a regular basis, but every once in a while it really is okay to share the stress. I'm not that kind of person, I will gladly take on more than I can handle, your stressors included. But when things are overwhelming and your boss asks how she can help--fucking tell her. There's no need to be coy and pretend you're Clark Kent. So I told her-- I hate working with improperly trained people, we need to get everyone on the same level to eliminate this sort of frustration. I hate customer complaints, because one of these days i will punch one of the complainants square in the fucking jaw. I hate being pulled in 70 directions,expected to be a hundred places at once, because there's only one me. Anyway, so after my bitchfest, she goes "okay, we'll fix it." just like that. So nonchalant. And i felt immediate relief, like taking a big shit after you've been holding it in all day. Wow. Sorry. No idea where that came from.

So there you have it. Share your stresses. Because usually something that seems so gigantic and frustrating, probably is not that bad. Sometimes all it takes is putting it out there.

Okay. I've done my good deed for the day, i've made the world a less stressful place. Fantastic.

Published with Blogger-droid v1.6.3

Postsecret Bash