Lighting Candles

As of late…..

…I’ve been missing this. Writing. Full glass of wine to my left, Radiohead in my speakers, my jumbled, fucked up thoughts somehow congealing into something resembling sense and pouring out of my fingers onto a keyboard and into cyberspace…words snatched from my mouth, my mind…my small vulnerable contribution…..

…I made a new friend. Her name is Harley…



…School is the same mess of hoops, smoke and mirrors it has seemed since the beginning. The days fly by in a flurry of lectures, laptops, and lucky guesses. Stolen moments on Facebook in class, the pressures of professionalism and the company of three people I can only hope will flourish under fluorescent lights, fueled by coffee, laughter and weekend brunches…

…I am anxiously anticipating my return to the stage. The feeling of a script in my hands again is so delicious it’s sinful…delving into the layers of a character, discussing motivations and emotional depth, verbing lines and breathing in the smell of a rehearsal space…I feel grounded, stable, sane….

…I have begun the painful process of bidding adieu to the lovely Holli Day. I am not sure hw I will feel when she is gone…she gave me more than I anticipated…things I never knew I needed…but am not sure I need anymore…

...I am watching those I love evolve...and am feeling waves of gratitude that after what feels like million years.....I am here to see it, feel it, be a part of it.....








…I have not, will not, ever, stop dancing….



…I’m still in the dark, Lighting Candles…..

Visited by three spirits.......

Understatements of the century shall include but are not limited to the following:

1) Things have been busy.

2) I’ve been thinking…….

3) Wait, wait now…..I’m confused.

4) Red wine is a good thing.

5) I’m one of the luckiest girls in the world.

Life post-Korea is nothing that I thought it would be, could be, should be. It is more and less at the exact same time. It is more confusing then I thought it would be, full of strange contradictions that leave me breathless at times. There are moments I downright long for Asia and its mixture of reliable frustration and insanity. There are moments I count my lucky stars that I made it home when I did and knew that the time had come to say goodbye. And then there are the moments that I feel gobsmaked by the overwhelming pull I feel in both directions. Travel is a potent drug, and the realization, nay, the knowledge that a change, an adventure, an escape is as simple as a plane ticket away can be an intoxicating inclination. Mucking your way through a snowstorm at 7am can make the recollection of those beaches in Thailand downright painful. Feeling as though you are drowning can make you long for the days when you thought that treading water was the worst thing in the world. Or vice versa for that matter.

It’s one of life cruel ironies that hindsight is always 20/20 and foresight can be like trying to see through a brick wall by slamming your face through it. It’s the present that can, at times, seem the biggest mystery, to me anyway. The reality of not being able to see the bigger picture, the reasons why things seem to unfold the way they do. It’s fucking frustrating and I don’t like it.

The idea of being present is a new one to me. Revolutionary one might say. The simple concept of neither examining the past to ensure you’ve garnered all the life lessons you can out of past experiences, nor craning forward into the next phase in your life, squinting into the sun as you try to single-handedly catch all those curve balls that are racing towards your stupid blonde head. But maybe, just maybe, stopping to take a look around at what you’ve got going on in the here and now. Rolling up your sleeves and digging into what you’re doing now. Today. Dealing with the mistakes you make as you make them and trying not to beat yourself up for them…always forward….and onward.

Korea gave me, among other things, a chance to stop and examine what I wanted my future to look like, to be. I kept waiting, longing for that “future” to start, sometimes hating where I was at that moment, so intent was I on where I thought I wanted to be. And now that I’m here, in this “future” I so wanted, I find myself reexamining my time in Korea.

Never present.
A problem.

There are things I miss, people I miss.
There are things in my life that frustrate me, anger me, make me want to cry.
There are questions I have no answers to and places that I want to go to but am unsure as to the how. The when. The why.

These are three truths that were present in my life pre-Korea, during Korea and now, post-Korea.

So what?

What else has been present this whole time?
What, in my sweet, sweet life, is unique to now?
And, perhaps the most significant question of all…..
How can I incorporate massive amount of red wine into each and every occasion that falls into either of those categories?!?

Something old.....something new......

Seoul.
On the subway the day I left.....
Sad eyes and awkward goodbyes.
Sure yet not.

Park benches, Cafri, and cigarettes.
Laughter.
Head electric, heart swirling.
Alone.
Content.

Gangnam.
Coffee bean & Tea leaf...one last time.
Familiar smiles and that same blue shirt.
Disappearing into crowds and watching you do the same.



..You may tire of me as our December sun is setting because I'm not who I used to be
No longer easy on the eyes but these wrinkles masterfully disguise
The youthful boy below who turned your way and saw
Something he was not looking for: both a beginning and an end
But now he lives inside someone he does not recognize
When he catches his reflection on accident

On the back of a motor bike
With your arms outstretched trying to take flight
Leaving everything behind
But even at our swiftest speed we couldn't break from the concrete
In the city where we still reside.
And I have learned that even landlocked lovers yearn for the sea like navy men
Cause now we say goodnight from our own separate sides
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed
Like brothers on a hotel bed...

Who I am now...because of who I was then.

I’m dropping in, slowly but surely, I’m feeling this new thing I’ve jumped into. This mind-fuck of a shift in my life, and today I found myself walking through campus, my breath pooling in front of me in the crisp morning air, coffee cup in my hand, RHCP in my ears, and a smile on my face.
I’m still reeling from all of this. From everything that’s happened in my life in the last month, the last 3 months, the last year. I was still in Korea this time last year. Korea. Thank God for Korea.
That’s right, you read that correctly. I’ll say it again.
Thank God for Korea.

Thank God for the time and space I was given there, to think, to love, to be…to write. Thank God for the taste I was given of what it feels like to be an outsider, a visible minority, my skin and language both envied and damning.
Thank God for the doors that it opened for me, a world of love, a world of pain, a world I never thought I would see or experience. A world filled with beaches and blue, sweet, sticky air, burned out buildings and blood. White sands as soft as flour and the energy-draining sensation of wounds being healed.
Thank God for showing me what it was like to slow down amidst organized chaos, to stop and feel and breath and be.






And thank God for getting me the fuck out of there, and home safe and sound.
(Grateful? Yes. Insane enough to forget the other “list” of reasons why my countdown to Canada started at 57? Hells no.)

One year ago, I had never set foot in Cambodia. It was not even on my radar, Dave and I had planned to spend the entire month of November in Thailand, we both felt we wanted to try and experience one place as fully as we could rather then many, in a lesser sense. But our rubber arms were twisted by the urging of some friends and we touched down in Phnom Pen and never looked back. Cambodia. Amazing, humbling, dirty, crumbling, burned, blackened and blood-spattered. Terrifying, warm, beautiful, and sad. My stay seemed tragically brief, and yet how deeply it cut me. Like so much in life.







One year ago, I had no idea where I would be one year from then. What I would be doing, who I would be with. Save a precious few. And here I am. Sitting in my apartment, books and papers strewn around me, my new H4n Zoom audio recorder that I’m apparently going to know how to use by the end of the semester staring me in the face, sipping Earl Grey Vanilla tea, listening to Radiohead, looking at a weekend of schoolwork, brunches, working out, schoolwork, sushi, cupcakes, wine and more schoolwork….smiling. One year later.

I’ve been given a lot to be grateful for. And it’s easy to lose sight of that when you let your life get too cluttered. I may, MAY, at times, sort of, maybe, have a slight tendency towards being a bit too….I don’t know…..Type “A”, if you will. I like being busy. And there’s nothing wrong with that. But I have come to realize, very recently, that if I’m having trouble finding 2 hours to sit, chill, have a cup of tea and write…I should maybe do something about that.
I am who I am. Who I’ve always been. Loud, busy, sarcastic, fun, full of laughter, tears, opinions and fear that I pretend and act like I don’t feel. I’m also sensitive, more than I should be at times, a good friend, sister, daughter, woman. Complicated. Thoughtful, sweet, smart and thoroughly fucked up. In a wonderful, confusing, happy way.
I’m learning to own that. Own up to where I’ve been, where I am, and how I’m here because of that. Ready to settle down….for the time being….but never settle…for anything less…than butterflies.

In Over My Head.....

….officially.

So what the fuck else is new though, really?

Ahem...

Weekend sum up:

Tim Hortons.
Glitter, feathers, corsets, high heels, high kicks, high, high, high……
Repeat.
Gin, vodka, cranberry gingerale, Lucky Lager, Burt Reynolds in a shot glass.
Repeat.
Repeat.
2 hours of sleep…..in a sleeping bag…with no pillow…on the floor.
Smitty’s.
Value Village…..oh yes.
Strippers at 4pm.
Thinking….”I could do that….”
Realizing…”I could do that….better…”
Vodka and Red Bull.
Duran Duran, Culture Club, Joan Jett and the Blackhearts, Billie Joel, Bon Jovi, The Police, Pat Benatar, Madonna, George Michael, Sting, Aerosmith….and MJ. Oh MJ……
Big hair, bad make-up, boobs, booty and a bunch of bad-ass chicks...rockin out.
Gin.
Gin.
Gin.
3 hours of sleep…..in a sleeping bag….with no pillow…on the floor.
Rain, rain, rain…..Tim Hortons…..the highway…….
Home Sweet Home.
Big smile.
Big sigh.
Back to reality.

School is a blog for another time. For now, I am grateful for gin, girls and glitter…and John Mayer…….

…..And I could see clearly
An indelible line was drawn
Between what was good
What just slipped out and what went wrong…….

…It's really over, you made your stand
You got me crying, as well as you planned
But when my loneliness is through, I'm gonna find another you…….


……When I was your lover
No one else would do
If I'm forced to find another, I hope she looks like you
Yeah and she's nicer too….

….Who do you love?
Who do you love?
Who do you love me or the thought of me? me or the thought of me?.......

…when you’re dreaming with a broken heart…..

And so it goes…..

The past few weeks have been a whirlwind, the kind that makes you feel exhilarated and high one minute, and downright nauseous the next. Life continues to surprise me, even in my old, old age.

It’s always been my personal belief that unless you learn the lessons life throws your way the first time it does so, you will be forced/doomed to repeat your mistakes and learn those life lessons, over and over and over, with the stakes becoming higher and higher each time. The following is one life lesson I think I’ve finally learned. Nothing in life will ever happen the way you expect it to.
Seriously. Ever.
You can wrack your brain and exhausted every possible scenario that you ever imagine could possible be conceived. You will mentally and emotionally prepare yourself for every single one of these scenarios and arm yourself with the knowledge that your confidence, strength of character, and those deep breathing medititation exercises you spent the past 3 months honing will carry you through. The universe will then take note of every single one of those scenarios you’ve imagined, observe your carefully constructed and well thought out plans of action, turn around and give you the finger as curve ball after curve ball head straight for your stupid blonde head and before you know what’s happening, your chest suddenly feels as though it’s going to cave in while your standing in line to collect the laptop you’ll need for your e-learning course pack because SOMEBODY thought it would be a good idea to go back to school and even though your 3rd from the front of the line after waiting for just over 45 minutes, it quickly becomes a choice between running out the nearest exit for some fresh air and to compose yourself or throwing up all over the Juicy Couture clad, 18-year-old-looking, perky princess standing in front of you reeking of Tommy Girl.

Or something……

It was a tough call, but I chose the former. Yeah me.

It’s difficult to pinpoint exactly what it is that’s throwing me for a loop in regards to my reintegration into “normal” life. It could be the excess of social obligations I seemingly throw myself into without care or thought to the cost of doing so. It could be the sheer volume of friend/family/other that has come in waves since touching down and has yet to cease. It could be the dichotomous and downright eerie feeling of youth and age colliding, old enough to know I’m not young, young enough to still, at times, feel invincible.

It could be the simple fact that this time, I return alone, that I have moved on without that person who could relate to and understand the zaniness and unpredictability that goes along with going away and coming back again. It could be a matter of expectations, whether realistic or not, justified or un, and the relearning of that aforementioned life lesson.

It could be that I’m fucking fucked in the head and need to relearn that everything in life is better when you’re half-cut. Party animal that I am and all. Yeesh.

So. To sum up.

Life lesson learned.
Fucked in the head.
Need to get drunk more.

What do you know….maybe I’ll make a better student then I thought:)

And as ready as I was to come home, and as happy as I am to be here…….

Gone.

I’ve been trying hard to take it all in, the fact that this journey I started on 3 months ago….no…..2 years ago….is really coming to an end. I’m finding it difficult though, for some reason, to feel that, to know that. Today just feels like another day in Seoul. But it’s not. It’s my last day. My last day in Seoul.

Walking home from dinner last night, I choose to put away my headphones and just listen to the sounds of the city as I made my way through the streets. Horns blaring and the whoosh and zoom of traffic, scooters zipping by with their put-put engine noises, and feeling the air around me shift and the sound barrier be broken as a Ducati flew past me, it’s wheels barely grazing the Seoul streets it honored with its presence. I listened to the sounds of drunken male voices, raised in good spirits and soaked with soju and kept my eyes on the sidewalk in front of me as I passed the business suit clad men who stared and shouted and stumbled towards me. I skirted the edges of the sidewalk and kept moving, hearing their voices fade and melt into the distant buzz and hum of the neon. The night breeze was mercifully cool and as I emerged from the underpass the smell of the city hit me, full force, and I could almost taste it. The gritty ashvault, and heady exhaust fumes mingling with the scent of fried chicken from a resteraunt down the road, and something else, something less definable and infinitely more appealing.

There is a weight that has settled in my chest that I know will be lifted upon my arrival at YYC. It is a weight that has just as much to do with loss as it does with gain, and though I appreciate the balance it brings to these last few hours I have in this city, I find myself slightly melancholy, thoughtful and full of bittersweet feelings and memories. I suppose this is only natural.

It’s hard to know where to begin when you wish to speak about an ending.












It’s hard to say goodbye…even when you know it’s not forever






I am so grateful. I am so blessed.

I’ll see you on the other side….cause I’m going….going……