Heat of Summer

This summer has definitely been one for the books.

I have felt more lost and scared than I have in a very long time. Right now I am unemployed, after coming off of an incredible 4 month trip through Central America I have been trying to figure out what I want to do next with my life. And that's a big question. What do I want to do? I have no fucking clue. I have thought about working in a bar to enable me to go traveling again, or go back to school or work in not-for-profit or teach ESL. I have no idea and it is terrifying. There are days where I feel so lost that I don't want to get out of bed. Between that and trying to figure out where I fit in life, I get serious bouts of depression. I have lashed out at my family more times than is acceptable. I'm living at home after living on my own for 11 years and we've all been adjusting to each other.

But I have also had one of the best summers that I can remember. I love my family. They are so supportive of me and have put up with my shit. While I have often felt that I would like to be on my own and not disturbed, I find comfort in their support. I have seen friends that I hadn't seen in months and laughed so much that my stomach hurts. I've gone hiking, cycling, camping, cottaging, canoeing, swimming and most recently my first music festival. I am more tanned than I have ever been in my life because I have spent so much time outside. I can't get enough of it. I've read about 4 or 5 books. They have been my therapy. It has been 5 days since I've read and I'm itching to start a new book. I've also had a lot of ice cream. Ice cream is delicious.

I met a boy too. He's pretty great and has brought me so much happiness and opened up my cold heart that hasn't been trusting in many many years. Even though our time is limited since he will be moving across the globe in a couple of weeks, he will always hold a special place in my heart for allowing me to be me and being someone I can trust and open up to and have the absolute best time with. You guys would really like him.

So much has happened this summer and I feel like I haven't even touched on half of it. I am also going to BC next week to see my family. I haven't seen them in a few years and the mountains are one of my happy places. I will be seeing my nana for probably the last time. She is in a hospital full time and has serious dementia. She won't recognize me. But I am glad that I will be able to say goodbye. She is an incredible woman with the best laugh and sense of humor. Even though she won't be the same person when I see her, she'll still be my nana.

And in a couple of weeks I will be turning 30. Quite the milestone and I think I'm okay with it. Let's leave it there so that I don't overthink it.

I've been on an emotional roller coaster. Many of my ups are tied in with my downs, and sometimes my heart feels like it will explode. But I can't change any of it. If you took away those downs then you'd be taking away my highs. And those highs are amazing. And they are accentuated even more because I know that not everything is perfect and I'm lucky to have what I have. I am very very lucky.

So thank you, I love you dearly.

Summer Sisters - or - When I Was Almost Eaten by Bears

Before some of you little pervs decide to stick your head in the gutter - no this post is not about a hot lesbian summer love affair. That's next week.

This is about me and my summer sister from when I was growing up. A and I (I am still not familiar with the etiquette about talking about people unbeknownst to them) were born 3 months apart, and our moms were best friends. We were complete opposites, but in the summer when I would visit her in the countryside of BC, we always had so much fun. She was a wild child. I was this tiny, shy, quiet girl, and she was loud, outgoing and always rearing to go. Our opposite personalities became more pronounced the older we got, but that never made any difference when we were together.

Her mom pointed out one summer that whenever I was around, something crazy always happened. Looking back, I'm wondering if maybe I was a bad luck charm!

One summer when I was really little I was staying at their place and we experienced one of the worst storms I can remember. That's saying a lot since I used to live in Calgary. Normally, I love storms. You would have to peel me from the windows. Black outs? I loved them. But this storm shook their log house. Log houses should NOT shake. I thought I was going to die in that house, and I cried like the little girl that I was.

Another summer not long after, A's brother's friends went bridge jumping. They lived on the Slocan River in BC which is pretty fast in some areas. A couple miles up the road was a bridge that the kids used to jump from into the river below. When one of the girls went to jump her arm got caught on the railing, and the weight of her body falling sliced her hand right through the bone. By the time she was rushed back to the house, she had lost a lot of blood and her hand was barely attached to her arm. I'm pretty sure she's still alive, and that her hand was ok... but I blocked out the rest of it after I accidentally looked at her hand.

See the rapid progression of events here people??

Then when I was 15 I was chased by bears. Ya, BEARS.

That summer we had played Clue 52 times and gone up and down the river on tubes countless times a day. Floating down that river on a tube is my happy place. With the sun shining on my face, the heat of the inner tube combined with the icy water, the mountains and clear blue skies as my back drop, I was in heaven. Occasionally we would lie on the beach, then float back down the river to her house.

One time we were getting up the courage to swim in the freezing water when we saw what looked to be 2 people swimming towards us, which was odd. Then A realized that it was a mama bear and her cub, clearly in distress. The cub must have fallen in the water and the mama was trying to catch up to her. Peeps, I don't know if y'all know this... but there if there is one thing in this world that you do not mess with - it's a mama bear. Here is what then went through my head: "holy motherfucking jesus fucking goddamn fucking fuck I am going to die".

I will let this sink in for you.

So we scrambled back onto the rocky beach and then proceeded to wade through the inlet where there were BLOODSUCKING LEECHES towards the steep "hill" that led to the road. We had to climb a broken ladder and maneuver some rocks to get up to the road, which suddenly seemed very far away. We knew we had to get to the road quickly because the next piece of land where the bears could get out of the river was our little beach. A had just had knee surgery from a bad ski fall and climbing + running were pretty difficult for her to manage. Here I am at the bottom of the hill/cliff pushing her up to the road and is she rushing? No.

Now that we're finally up on the road, I'm begging her to try to run. I'm crying. I believe that death in the form of an angry mama bear who blames us for her cub's probable drowning is right behind us. I think she smirked at my level of fear. Then we hear barking. And because running from bears isn't enough, we look behind us to see that 2 attack dogs are chasing us. I believe they were dobermans but my life was flashing before my eyes so I could be mistaken. (I actually love dobermans and have met a couple of the suckiest pups ever, but when you train a dog to ATTACK, they are fucking scary.) Oh, so did I mention that there were a few questionable neighbours who were growing questionable herbs in their fields? They had dogs.

So it's at this point that A gets her ass in gear and starts to try to run. Thanks, babe. Out of nowhere, I see a streak of fur coming at me on my right and it's a massive german shepherd. AKA my savior. He starts bounding after the other 2 dogs and they bugger off. I'm still in shock and wondering when the bears are going to come eat me. We hear barking coming from up the mountain behind us and hope that the bears are being chased by any combination of the 3 dogs. Home is close by and I crumble into tears.

A and I recount the story for her parents, who, like me, are shocked and glad we're ok. However 5 minutes later, it's not such a big deal and all of a sudden I'm a pansy. Anybody else want to rewind that story and tell me HOW I'M A PANSY?!

I'm just glad I didn't shit my pants. That would actually have been embarrassing. I'm also glad I didn't get any leeches on me. Because I hate leeches. Fuckers.

Mama bear & cub

 

 

I was gonna have a picture of an angry bear but it actually scared me too much to look at the pictures. So I put this one up. Do not google "angry bear" or "bear attack". Just don't.

And here is where I bare my soul

I have a secret: I'm kind of emotional.

I know, right?

But really, I have mushy insides. And feel lots. Sometimes I cry against my will. I'm all "no, I'm a tough bitch", and my insides are all like "CRY CRY CRY CRY SNOT CRY CRY CRY". The truth is, I'm a huge softy. Puppies, babies, puppies, they make me coo and and warm my heart.

Looking back, when I was younger I was naive and optimistic and warmhearted. I was a softy and very emotional. Too emotional. I had anxiety and depression problems, and on top of it all, I wore my heart on my sleeve. I'm sure that about half of teenagers experience the same thing. I was so up and down, I really had no control over my emotions. I will never forget the time that I was in the car with my guy friends and laughing to the point of tears; those tears became real and I started crying uncontrollably. Boys don't deal with tears very well, teenage boys just get nervous and scared and very uncomfortable. It was fun. Another time during Christmas I started crying over dinner because I missed my papa J who had just passed... years before.

If you ask my parents about a random emotional outburst of mine, they will tell you this story: me at 9, 10, 11 crying over seemingly nothing. When they can finally get a word in over the sobbing and hiccuping, asking me what's wrong, they hear this: "I... MISS... JILLI..AN!!" You see, Jillian was my best friend from when I was 2 until she moved away when I was 5. FIVE YEARS OLD PEOPLE. And here I was having an emotional melt down years later. Embarrassing. So now when my parents think I'm crying over nothing, they ask me if I miss Jillian. Fuckers.

I think that because I was always so emotional growing up, I started to keep the mushy ones in. I didn't want to be seen as this emotionally fucked up girl who shouldn't be taken seriously because she couldn't control her tears. So I was tougher. Showed off my muscles more. Grunted more. It wasn't hard to put the mushy away because I've always had a dark, sarcastic side. However before, where I had the angel on one shoulder and devil on the other, now the devil gave the angel a black eye and she got pissed off and left.

Huh, this post has turned into more than I bargained for. I didn't intend for it to be a soul baring post. I walked into this post thinking "hey, I'm gonna write about how much I used to be a sissy". Didn't know I'd end up psycho analyzing myself. Yay.

So, for the worst post in the history of posts.... I'm going to end this one before you all find out more about my insides. I'm going to stick to my dark side from now on. This side is less funny.