the review

alright kiddos.
2014.
a tricksy year.

see, on a global scale: it was not good. and i'm feeling that weight. my belief in the goodness of humans, on a grand scale, has been really shaken. and i worry, i fear. but we've talked about that a lot on here. so i'm going to walk away from that for a moment. for this here end-of-year look-back.

because on a personal scale 2014 was kinda kick-ass-inest. my own world: it was real good.

family time and travel was like whoa.
my bestie had a baby.
my sister got a married.
my roommate graduated law school like a total rockstar.
my nephew was old enough to have his first *real* grimas.
THE OLYMPICS HAPPENED!
i turned 30 and can confirm that being 30 is the best.
my birthday cake was beyoncé-themed and there were black balloons everywhere.
i saw robyn again!!
i learned i can run pretty fast when i feel like it.
i got a new job.
i bought an imaginary space that will one day not be imaginary, but will be a home that i will live in.

i met a really amazing new lady-friend. famjam was born.
then i met another super spectacular new lady-friend and famjam went next level.

ladies be drinkin was a constant source of joy and baking.

my bookclub got more and more feminist.
jian ghomeshi got dragged out into the light and seen for the sack-full of disgusting jackass he is.

my dog made so many jokes.

i re-connected with two women who i have known so long, and who feel so much a part of my heart and soul i can barely stand it. we looked at the adult women we have all become, and we said: yes, i like this person so much more for the dark bits and the unsure bits and the pain and change and time.

i saw scotland again.

i said goodbye to the home-est home i will ever know, and that was hard and sad sad sad.
i saw my parents in their new home and new world, which is exciting and full of love and jokes (and soaker bathtubs).

we lost someone. far too soon. and it blew through us and left us ragged. we did our best to hold each other together, to hold each other up. we miss you, mav.

and then there was the culture.

best books:

* the flamethrowers - rachel kushner (on art and independence and revolution)
* swamplandia - karen russell (on siblings and dampness and fear)
* the year of magical thinking - joan didion (re-read, but still a top-fave - on living and grieving and light)
* the elegance of the hedgehog - muriel barbery (on the ache and the void)
* the collected short stories of lydia davis (pure beauty and perfection)

best films:

* lucy (on insignificance and humanity and feeling everything)
* under the skin (on being a woman)
2014 officially goes to scar-jo. oof, wow. thank you.

best music: well that'll get its own post. there's a playlist a'comin.

so that's where we will leave it. 2014. goodbye.

live on coffee & flowers

oh hallo, please come in. yesterday i completely re-orged my ensuite bathroom and i love it love it love it. so clean, so orderly. so pretty, so sassy, so jokes. uppity women unite. warning. adult language and nudity. and flowers. and ladies gettin' beheaded. and flowers, did i mention flowers. and boobs. xoxo!

recline

if you are feeling frazzled and fried and frantic, here is a wonderful long, slow breath. here is a relaxed elegance to bring you back round and center you and give you hopeful-peaceful-calm feelings. the row, for me, is so often the collection that feels like coming home after a long time away. and having a hot bath. and crawling into your own, cool bed again. with brand new sheets. with the window open to the smell of rain.

{the row spring 2014, photos courtesy of the row by way of style.com}

roger

there is a piece of writing that is circulating amongst my pals back in the homeland of edmonton. just in case you haven't run into it yet, i'mma throw to it here.
 
* on homelessness and support (or lack thereof) social aid/affordable housing

this is a lovely tribute to a loved man, and an eloquent rebuttal to the nay-saying NIMBYs of terwillegar, and a lot of cities in this country we're lucky enough to call home. i am grateful for her honesty and openess about her and her family's experience.  i am impressed that she remains kind and hopeful in the face of rage-making ignorance and close-mindedness.

"To those of you who say you are not affluent, I say there are many people in Edmonton who make more money than you do, and plenty more who make less, but if your wealth depends on keeping others poor, then you will never truly be wealthy.

Call me idealistic — I’ve been called worse — but I have to believe Terwillegar Speaks represents a very vocal but very minor number of people’s views in that part of my city."

{salena kitteringham for the edmonton journal}

(and going by the communities and people i know in old edmo, she is right. there's a lot of greatness and kindness and generosity in that city. i hope it wins out. i hope it makes noise. i think it will.)

when you love your home, it can be hard to go anywhere else

{i for sure stole this from jenn's instagram}

i wrote about it before. the extension room. and i've mentioned it here and there. but. i just want to say to the whole wide internetsworld how much i love that space.

the last year has been all kinds of ups and downs and busies and not... and through it all jenn and the extension room have been a safe warm happy healthy wonderful space for me.

i love working there. i love the energy and attitudes that people bring through those doors. i love how easily everyone smiles there. i love that the volunteers and owner and teachers and staff alike leave notes with hearts and happy faces for each other. i love the kindness and resolve and passion and joy.

today was a rocky day that went back and forth between desperate sadness and grateful relief and when i was at the most back-and-forth and about to get on a streetcar and either go home or go to class, i thought about how much like home that studio is. and if i am teetering, then that is a place that will bring me down on the right side. so i went. and had my ass kicked by an awesome class. and after i cried to jenn and i came home. and i am sitting here crying, smiling, crying, smiling, and wanting to send the studio some kind of giant thank you that won't fit into a text. so i'm putting it here.

if before i had any doubt, extension room makes toronto feel like home. like the right place.

off and back.

i spent years feeling unsettled... always working towards a something. i don't remember when it started exactly. university? just after? i am not sure. it seems like forever ago. there was always a something. tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow... forever waiting to be living completely.

(probably it is a 20s something. feeling like you are preparing for being a whole thing. (almost out of those. 20s...))

anyways. i wasn't, anymore, for a little while. just for a few months. all of the things stopped being somewhere else and were just being. i loved all of the things right here and right now. i was present and happy and good. job life home friends love city. it's not that before i was unhappy. just not there.

and then: there.

still looking forward and excited and wondering and nervous... but there. here... present.

and now. not, again. waiting. looking. and it is harder to go backwards. it turns out. than to feel behind in the first place. i am sick of looking forward. making choices for then instead of now. i would like to just be here.

i was very happy and very here.

saved my life

this song gives me (as roommatesarah would say) a sadz. but. a good sadz. a warm fuzzy feelings on a monday sadz.



happy monday, back to lifers.

home

TODAY!!!

MAYBE I AM EXCITED TO GO HOME...

{borrowed from here}

skate away

{borrowed from here & here}

  

it is not winter here. not even close. it is barely even fall some days. yesterday? it was 12 degrees.

even though i am calling this city mine, there is still a whole lot of edmonton in my bones that i can't shake out. and those edmonton bits think that it can't be december, it can't be advent, without the cold. the snow. the crinkly-freeze-your-nosehairs-when-you-inhale kind of cold. toronto doesn't understand this cold even a little. which makes it hard for me to understand how toronto can understand christmas at all. i think it does it all wrong.

i can't wait to be home. where christmas is the realest thing. i've been spending time with wintery images to fill the hole in my winter-heart.

 {borrowed from here & here}

 {borrowed from here & here & here}

 {borrowed from here & here}

 {borrowed from here & here & here}

{borrowed from here & here}

neither you nor i

things are very good in toronto. i am feeling very good and glad. but also i am very much missing home right now. and the people who are it. my magical family. i am nervous at the possibility of christmas without emma & charlie. i don't even know what that would look like. i am sad that declan is getting so big. i hope he won't be as shy as me, and that he'll always be warm to his aunt erin. i am grateful to have love so big that it hurts.

tonight i'll be roasting pumpkin seeds. and sleeping in flannel sheets (even though it is not cold enough here, and i have to leave the window open so i don't roast myself). my heart will be in the prairies, driving from farm to farm with gerry, collecting candy and drinks.

{my prairie nephew in the prairie light}

ff (fw)

seeing as i skipped over last week's feminist friday, i'm going to throw this out there today. because i am having strong feelings about it and don't feel like waiting till friday rolls 'round again. in the wake of the string of sexual assaults around toronto. thanks to john for passing along this piece.

* communal fear

i have tried one hundred thousand times to get to the heart of what it feels like to be afraid. to just be afraid. often. everywhere. anytime. after dark. early in the morning. when alone. when somewhere new. when somewhere familiar suddenly seems so unsafe... women have vigilance and fear dug into them very very early. or at least i and so many people i know have had. (and if we haven't, well, aren't we naive and foolish and putting ourselves in danger? say the voices.)

{stacey may fowles}

last night i went to a book launch party in toronto's east side. super hip and happenin'. i had some drinks and danced and tweeted. then i went home alone on the streetcar and subway a little after midnight, and held my breath as i held my head up hoping that tonight was not the night that i stupidly assumed i was safe in my city. knowing that if it was in fact that night, people would wonder about my sky-high clog heels, my short dress, my few drinks. the female friend i was with at the party asked that i text when i got home, which i appreciated. i am always the one who worries about my girlfriends going home alone. i always feel like a broken record. telling them to be careful as if it gives them any power. telling myself i am prepared and aware and vigilant as if it will help me if i ever am one of the unlucky ones. it is constant. it makes a girl very tired. 

     {stacey may fowles again. exactly.}

to a town

june 1st was my two year anniversary with toronto.

and first there was a flood in my office building, shutting down the ttc and forcing me to take a long, unplanned walk in the rain wearing good heels. and then the next day there was a public shooting in my mall.

and i thought 'what gives, toronto? i thought we were happy together!'

but. then yesterday they (they) caught the culprit in the eaton centre shooting, or rather he turned himself in. (and they ALSO caught the crazy foot-mailer man...)
and i went to a grad exhibit for tala (aka kindergarten-friend) and saw her amazing fashion work up close. 
and i went to ballet class and was taught by an old alberta-friend, kate. (different from local, sarnia-kate. ugh. FRIENDS! have different names already!) and her partner turns out to be someone i met once back in calgary, too. and that was great.
and i ran into bryce on the streetcar and we got to catch up quickly.
and i got home to my lovely apartment with sarah and margene to talk to and cuddle (respectively).
all these pieces of home. here.

{on my walk to loblaws : watching baseball in christie pits}

{slutwalk : the path}

and mel moved in to her new house this week.
and stylist-sarah got a new puppy.

and then there were the usual things... the staples delivery-man who is so friendly. the fellow from the office across the hall who i get to chat with sometimes in the elevator. texts and calls from my friends. the subway-man who grins at me, and everyone else, every morning. the security guard at work who lends umbrellas and wears colourful ties. the path. the stylish people. the superintendent at home who is a ninja.

and i think 'yes. this is a very fine life i have. and this is a very fine place i live in.'

i don't know if i ever really believed that toronto could be the place. i don't think i really wanted it to be the place. because it is 'toronto' and blah blah. it isn't perfect. and there are for sure the bad bits of living in a 'big city'.

but i love it. i do. so much. i am so happy here. even when i'm not. this is a good place.

{friday night live dance party at the ROM}

happy two year anniversary, my city. thank you for welcoming me in. 

saved my life

summer weekends are proving wonderful and wonderful and wonderful! another good one.

this weekend roomie-sarah's bestie laura was in town and staying with us! i had been sooooo excited to meet her all year long. she is awesome and was such a great houseguest. i hope she can be with us again next weekend (she's going to a conference out of toronto this week). i'll bring up laura more soon, too, cause we have some plans for her and this very blog! y'all are gonna love it.

friday was slutwalk, and we'll talk more about that later. first feminist event! weeee! then sarah and i got frozen yogurt. yes. saturday was extension room, of course, with erin toop. so glad we could finally coordinate a class together! she's aces. then, of course, laura's arrival and hangouts and dinner at banjara (our favourite indian spot). sunday was a massage that ripped into my neck and shoulders in the greatest way. hurt so good! then to tiff bell lightbox for the trevor anderson's film, along with 5 other short films screened for the inside out festival. first of all. seeing bryce and max. (twice cause we ran into them at slutwalk, too...) golden. magical. fairy dust and bunnies. and a whole row of oldentimey albertans (and the odd still-albertan). god i love my city, and god i love my hometown. second. this film, guys. this film. it's stunning. bryce! trevor! it is so good. the music is funny and charming and sad and full. the dancing is sweet and sad again and clever. it is a great great film. bryce's voice just breaks my heart into a million pieces. loved it.



the other short films were great too. a few of them i really loved. one scared the crap outta me. i can't stop thinking about it. funny and scary and absurd. great! such a great way to spend a sunday afternoon. and then there was fresh for dinner. and tv and internet window-shopping and drinks and sleep. weekend win.

this is where i am

oh hey there! i finally cleaned my room AND took pictures! (sometimes i had one or the other covered, but. no. never both at once.) it has only been, what, 9 months since i moved in.

{dresserzone for the jewels and the purses}

{details, yo} 

{the reading corner along with snaggletooth} 

{to be read, and where to be read} 

{some bathroom deets} 

{the gem of gems, my walk-in closet}

and there it is, tour town usa. come visit, why don'tcha?