Gone Down Under

I'm spending the next 10 days in South Australia reporting on the Best Jobs in the World competition. Follow my adventure on Go Further Travel.

A Long December

As we drove back to Toronto on Sunday, the Counting Crow's Long December came flooding through the speakers of Ramsey's car. We sang along, unabashedly, shamelessly, heart-fully.

"It has been a long December," Ramsey said.

"It really has," we agreed. "It really has."

The Secret Ingredient

I've never thought of myself as much of a romantic. But when I was transcribing interviews this week, I kept getting coming back to this one quote from Mel (who was kind enough to let me interview her for one of my upcoming stories): 

"Food is a huge tenant of how I express love, how I move socially. And when I care about someone, I want to cook for them and nourish them," she told me. "I really do believe in food that is grown with love. People who really care about our land and how they treat the environment and the growth of that food permeates through the food, to the dish that I make, to the person who eats is." 

This? This is something of love. 

Slowly, surely, I'm starting to remember, that yes, I too believe in something of love. And every morning, as I stand barefoot in the kitchen, measuring out the coffee grounds and eagerly waiting for the kettle to perk, I remember that I too, know what it means to be cared for and to care for someone. 

As long as there's coffee and whiskey and pie in my life, there will be love.  

Wandering Ways

I've only been back in Toronto for a month and I'm already getting restless.

I doubt that's ever going to change. (More on my adventures in Honduras are now on my travel blog.) 

Something of Love

For nearly 12 seasons, I watched the top branches of the tree bloom and die and become reborn again. 

From the window of the loft, it was the only visible sign of life outside, peeking carefully over the rooftops—the brick walls of our neighbour's house obstructed everything else from view. For three years, that tree was my only cue.

Dropping Brock off today, after our sanctioned time together was up, I paused for a moment in the doorway and looked out the window. Three seasons have passed since I last watched buds form on the branches of that tree.

It doesn't seem so long ago.

Against my better judgement, I'm starting to believe again. I'm starting to believe that yes, not only am I deserving of love, but I may just be capable of loving, too. I'm starting to place faith in impracticalities and impossibilities. I'm starting to remember that despite my pragmatic nature, it's the impulsive gut decisions that have always brought me the most happiness.

And above all, I have reason to believe that there's nothing that the perfect yellow vintage dress cannot solve. This, if nothing else, is something of love.

The Birthright

This weekend adventure was so amazing that I actually love this picture, wrinkles and all, because it reminds me of the perfect day away. (More on the travel blog.)

The Best Years

We were only one glass of wine in, but I was already drunk. That didn't make what I said any less true. They were words spoken in earnest.

"I really do feel like I'm living one of the best years of my life," I told Court. (These are the kind of words that settle warmly somewhere deep in my chest. Yet when I say them out loud, it's always in a hushed, almost guilty tone. If there's wood to knock on nearby, that's even better.)

After a summer of uncertainty, a fall of frantic work and manic behaviour, and a winter that was punctuated by excessive caffeine consumption and a kind of loneliness that I've never known before, I'm finally hitting my stride.

Although I was tempted to follow through on "Year of the Marriage for Money" as my 2013 resolution, I inadvertently settled on a much simpler mantra: working, working out and working it out. I'm focused and driven in a way that I haven't been in months. I'm being good to my body; running, lifting weights and even taking the time to brush my hair (most days, anyway). Most importantly, I'm reflecting on how it is that I ended up here and what it is that I want next. I take comfort in going to bed alone every night and even greater comfort in time spent in the company of friends. This is somehow what I always thought my life would be like.

And last month, for the first time, I truly took advantage of the "freelance" part of my job description by relocating my office to Honduras for a week to visit Sophie. (More on this to come.)

None of it is easy. But I'm happy to wake up every morning, knowing that the best is yet to come.

(Raw photo by the lovely Nettika during a day spent in Prince Edward County reporting for a Toronto Star freelance assignment. Because yes, my life is so awesome that I can legitimately play with baby lambs and call it work. These are truly the best days of my life.)

Dealbreakers

So, this happened. (How could I possibly turn down the opportunity to go on the only legitimate blind date that I'll ever go on in my life? With my superior Googling abilities, it's unlikely that I'll ever again be set up with someone without knowing a singular thing about them beforehand--including what they look like.)

Here are the answers to the pre-date questionnaire that I had to fill out:

What do you do for fun? I own a collapsible hula hoop, a stunt kite, three different Scrabble boards and a well-used library card. I’m pretty physically active—I work out a lot and like to go running with my dog. I’m game for nearly any activity proposed to me; in the last year I went dog-sledding, trap shooting (it turns out that I’m awesome with a shotgun and pretty much a sniper), to circus school and ice-fishing. I occasionally organize and host trivia nights. However, much like every other twenty-something living in the Dundas & Ossington neighbourhood, I’m a big fan of eating at restaurants with low lighting, hanging out in coffee shops talking about my feelings, and listening to music. (Things I do not like: shopping. It’s the worst.)

How would you describe your style? I asked a friend who works in fashion and she said that my style is “an eclectic Anthropologie.” I have no idea what that means, but I tend to wear a lot of tailored dresses.

How would your family and friends describe your personality? I’m incredibly energetic, kind of silly and tend to approach my life as a bit of an experiment.

What would you do on your “dream date?” Something that I’ve never done before. Like, if a dude took me noodling for catfish, that would be pretty awesome. Seeing as we’re a bit far from Louisiana, I’d settle for someone cooking me dinner, though.

Describe your ideal partner: I pride myself on not having a “type,” or particulars that I’m looking for in a partner. I don’t want to limit myself. However, I like dudes who aren’t lazy, like their families (but aren’t holding on to the apron strings) and understand small-town community values. (That’s not to say that they have to be from a small town. They just have to understand why I frequently bake cookies for my neighbours and why that’s not weird.) If they know how to cook, that’s a bonus, because I really like eating.

What kind of relationship are you ultimately looking for? I’m still trying to figure that out. I guess I’m looking for the kind of relationship that involves a lot of high-fives and laughter.

Do you have any dealbreakers?

• Anyone who doesn’t immediately agree with the statement that No Diggity is one of the greatest songs of all time. 
• People who immediately turn on their television upon entering their home or keep it on during a nice sit-down dinner. (I also hate it when people turn on the TV first thing in the morning. It annoys me.) 
• Bad tattoos. I like tattoos, but if you have the word BIZNATCH inked in huge gothic font across your abs, I’m probably not interested. (This happened once. It was unfortunate.) 
• Guys who make lots of gendered statements. (ie. “Girls love to shop.”) 
• Poor work ethic/lack of professionalism. 
• Habitual drug users. (I’m fine with drug use. But I’m not interested in dating someone who smokes pot every day or uses coke every weekend. Once in a while is acceptable.) 
• Shitty taste in music. 
• Hippies. 

Anything else I should know?

Here are a couple of things about me that could be dealbreakers for potential dates:

• I have no pop culture reference point. I watch television and movies, but immediately forget entire plot points as soon as the credits roll. Simpsons trivia enthusiasts hate having conversations with me. 
• I own a BlackBerry that is scotch-taped together and makes a fun rattling noise when you shake it. Technology-obsessed dudes usually find this really irritating. 

Dear Dr. George Church

Dear Dr. George Church,

I am a female who ovulates quite regularly (once a month, to be exact). As such, I feel like my uterus is probably a hospitable environment for a Neanderthal fetus. (I've always thought that if I were to ever give birth, I'd prefer my offspring to be furry in nature. I was originally thinking a puppy or kitten, but I guess science is neat, too.)

I am concerned about a "larger cranial size" exiting my birth canal, but I like a challenge. 

Since it's probably illegal in Canada, can I give birth in an exotic locale?

Yours,

An Adventurous Female Human

Update: This postcard was featured on CBC Radio's "As It Happens" on January 24, 2013. To hear it being read totally deadpan, it's at the 12:00 minute mark.

2012: Year in Review

Every time I try to think of a word or phrase that embodies what 2012 was for me, I keep coming back to the same one: heartache. 

But it was this heartache that enabled me to remember the grace in small things. Moving into 2013, I'm grateful for the friends who supported me when I needed them most, and for strangers that are no longer strangers. Most of all, I'm grateful that I've been fortunate enough to have been loved--and to know what it means to love.

Here's to the good times in 2012:

January

• I completed my first Year of the Physical Fitness Challenge activity when Jay took me dogsledding.

February 

• Chloé and I were not consumed by a giant mythological man-eating fish when we went ice-fishing. There were, however, other casualties. 
• Chloé and I also learned a very valuable lesson about why you should name your wireless networks appropriately.
• Monique and Craig got married!

March

• I was restless and underemployed, so Mike flew me out to Victoria. We took a road trip to Seattle and I explained to him (in great detail) why a werewolf would fall in love with a baby.
• I baked cookies for strangers. Again. (Baking things for people would prove to be a predominant theme throughout 2012.)

April

• I have no idea what happened in April. All I know is that I took this picture of my dog, was insanely busy with work and I cried to get out of jury duty. (No shame.)

May & June

• Jay and I parted ways. I spent the next six weeks couch-surfing until I could find a place to live. But I successfully turned 28, friends by my side.

July

• What didn't happen in July? Seriously. I danced in a barn. I went to circus school. I saw Snoop Dogg play in Cold Lake. I was spanked by groomsmen at my little cousin's wedding. I shot guns in barefeet and short shorts in the middle of the woods. I played beersbi in the mountains. I fell in love with Alberta all over again. 

August

• Ashleigh and Tim got married!
• Back in Toronto, I settled into my new apartment.

September

• After a work weekend in Vancouver, I ate every last feeling that I had during an amazing (and excessively indulgent in every sense of the word) week in Montréal. Best business trip ever.

October

• I went to Japan, Thailand and Cambodia.

November

• I spent the entire month winning Scrabble games, writing silly lists, drinking an excessive amount of coffee and talking to strangers.

December

• Back in Alberta (my 16th flight of the year), I completed the Canada Fitness Test for the first time in 20 years.

I have yet to settle on a resolution for the new year. I was seriously considering making 2013 the "Year of Marriage," but my aunt has informed me that people will actually think I'm crazy if I actively pursue this goal. (Especially given my history of successfully completing New Year's resolutions.) So I've decided to focus on something much more realistic: Year of the Marriage for Money. It has a nice ring to it, no?