They say songs and smells (surprisingly) are the best triggers for memories from the past, but I always find that locations invoke the strongest nostalgia for me. What is it about roaming the same streets that my friends and I once drunkenly caused mischief upon or being at the same playground my siblings and I grew up on that causes me to feel almost a physical gut feeling of deja vu?
Where this is especially vivid is when it comes to past relationships. As if technology hasn't made it hard enough to forget some connections I would rather not think of often.(Facebook is a graveyard for old relationships. I had some chick comment on a picture of my ex and I from over a year ago and it showed up on my newsfeed -- not to mention the newsfeeds of my over 1000 friends. I spent the night warding off questions of whether we were back together. Thanks, chick.) Perhaps I'm just over-sensitive (which, admittedly is not an unusual when it comes to matters of the heart) but there are some places I choose to avoid on purpose.
One would think any place where a pointed falling-out between old lovers occurred would be the most obvious but it's actually quite the opposite for me. Places where we fought --whatever --I really could care less. One more reminder of why not being with them now makes that much more sense. It's places where the happiest memories took place that pull on the heart strings. Central Park where we paddled on a boat amongst the ducks, that sushi place where we always ordered for each other and any other place where similarly maudlin, borderline nauseating, actions happened are emotional landmines.
Lucky for me, my last relationship was quite the globe-trotting one and unless I plan on going to London, Paris, and New York consecutively any time soon, I'm safe. Toronto has been my hometown and thankfully any sappy memories I had in various locales there have been erased or replaced by, well, new and better ones. No one takes my city away from me, after all.
I'm in Montreal for the weekend and some places are less pleasant than others. Sensitivity? Perhaps, but feelings are feelings. At the end of the day it comes to a decision: either mourn the loss of something that no longer exists or let them remain happy memories and nothing more. The latter is the sensible choice and one that I've been able to do only recently. For me, I know my life goes happy, happier, happiest -- sure what I had once was nice, but the best is yet to come. Everything for a reason -- a belief that's never steered me wrong thus far. Take that, Central Park.
Monday, March 26, 2012
Thursday, March 22, 2012
OMFG - Twitterpated When Spring Hits
My brain feels like it's 75% mush lately. My emotions are nonsensical (well, more so than usual -- I didn't think that was possible either) and what was once irrational now seems entirely possible. Blame it on a fever...or, more like Spring fever.
Even you jaded cynics can agree that when the first truly warm day of spring hits Toronto, you get just a little more optimistic about, well, everything! Although our winter barely showed its claws, it was still cold (this is Canada after all) and this past week has been a turning point -- we're in the twenties for the remainder of it and it's only March. The result? A hot and heavy case of being twitterpated.
No, it's not some social media lingo, but quite the opposite. A throwback to good old fashioned, almost obsolete slang (we can add malarkey and hunky dory to that list), twitterpated is how the wise little owl in Bambi describes the animals come Springtime to the young fawn when he asks what's come over them. In other words, it's a darling way of saying coo coo for (horny) Cocopuffs. Nothing turns a girl's thoughts to love and companionship more than lovely weather.
My guy friends aren't immune to the disease as well as they've upped their game (the single ones anyway) in the chase. Added swag here, unjustified over-confidence there. Warm breezes, dewy air, flowy dresses and copious amounts of day drinking have that affect on the youthful population. Tail hunting aside, the best part of being twitterpated isn't the romance, but the air of optimism. All us broken, damaged, or heavily weighed down hearts seem to feel fresh again. What once seemed wretched and tiresome now seems carefree and naive. And is it ever a good feeling!
Sure, the results of being twitterpated aren't necessarily productive but some times you have to just give in to your surroundings and be a little frivolous. To my fellow romantics, once-jaded converts and mended hearts...that shit cray, and ain't it lovely?
x
Even you jaded cynics can agree that when the first truly warm day of spring hits Toronto, you get just a little more optimistic about, well, everything! Although our winter barely showed its claws, it was still cold (this is Canada after all) and this past week has been a turning point -- we're in the twenties for the remainder of it and it's only March. The result? A hot and heavy case of being twitterpated.
No, it's not some social media lingo, but quite the opposite. A throwback to good old fashioned, almost obsolete slang (we can add malarkey and hunky dory to that list), twitterpated is how the wise little owl in Bambi describes the animals come Springtime to the young fawn when he asks what's come over them. In other words, it's a darling way of saying coo coo for (horny) Cocopuffs. Nothing turns a girl's thoughts to love and companionship more than lovely weather.
My guy friends aren't immune to the disease as well as they've upped their game (the single ones anyway) in the chase. Added swag here, unjustified over-confidence there. Warm breezes, dewy air, flowy dresses and copious amounts of day drinking have that affect on the youthful population. Tail hunting aside, the best part of being twitterpated isn't the romance, but the air of optimism. All us broken, damaged, or heavily weighed down hearts seem to feel fresh again. What once seemed wretched and tiresome now seems carefree and naive. And is it ever a good feeling!
Sure, the results of being twitterpated aren't necessarily productive but some times you have to just give in to your surroundings and be a little frivolous. To my fellow romantics, once-jaded converts and mended hearts...that shit cray, and ain't it lovely?
x
Tuesday, March 13, 2012
OMFG - Spring Cleaning.
After an almost alarmingly mild winter (global warming much?), the first truly warm days of Spring have hit my dear city of Toronto. And, as with every year, that means a bit of spring cleaning for me. Mainly my closets which tend to overflow with accumulated goods over the year, and sadly the years past. After removing three garbage bags worth of clothing from my double closets, two things were apparent to me: 1) I need to stop buying ugly leopard print shirts and dresses in an attempt to satisfy my hunt for the perfect animal print outfit (feminine, chiffon and preferably Cavalli) and 2) my closets are so much better when following Thoreau's famous words: simplify, simplify.
Well, what's good for my closet is good for life. Clutter, tangible and otherwise is just not conducive to anything. Granted, your twenties is a time of trial and error -- as in figuring out your likes and dislikes when it comes to style, people and overall lifestyle. Fashionably speaking, I've recently come to the conclusion that I just don't care for, or particularly like anything super trendy and would rather invest in a few classic pieces from say, Holts, rather than twenty trendy items from H&M. (I also just can't wrap my head around wearing anything I find remotely silly. This encompasses the entire hipster trend at the moment of crop tops, floral high pants, etc. Maybe I'm just not cool enough.) With the style mantra of feminine, elegant and timeless in mind, I easily rid of all the frivolous and girly pieces I'd long outgrown.
While tossing some ugly jeans is easy enough (I had a light pair that were bedazzled. I kid you not.), it's the non-tangible clutter in our lives that's a little harder to rid of. Deciding what even counts as unnecessary in your life can be a challenge; I know I still have trouble differentiating between what's glamorous and fun and what's detrimental to me. With so many ups and downs being inevitable, keeping one rule in mind seems to be the trick: does this make me happy long term? That last word is key. Instant gratification is easy as pie...it's long term gratification that defines maturity.
Negative influences such as (for me anyway) overly dramatic "friends", selfishness and perhaps the most detrimental of them all, cheesecake, at the end of the day aren't paths to my long term happiness. And, for the most part I've been able to kick them to the curb (except for cheesecake. But I'm working on it...kind of.) These past few warm days have coincided with some wake-up calls in my life lately and what better time of year than nature's rebirth to make some improvements! Nothing crazy -- although my fitness kick made my dad ask me in all seriousness "Are you kidding?" when I said I was going for a run -- but rather a newly conscious way of making decisions. Simply being aware of what impacts us and what doesn't makes a world of a difference. For me this means not letting silly things affect me for the worse, a renewed focus on my writing and loved ones, and my health. A total Spring cleaning I need not: just tweaking and fine-tuning. Bring on the warmer weather.
x
Well, what's good for my closet is good for life. Clutter, tangible and otherwise is just not conducive to anything. Granted, your twenties is a time of trial and error -- as in figuring out your likes and dislikes when it comes to style, people and overall lifestyle. Fashionably speaking, I've recently come to the conclusion that I just don't care for, or particularly like anything super trendy and would rather invest in a few classic pieces from say, Holts, rather than twenty trendy items from H&M. (I also just can't wrap my head around wearing anything I find remotely silly. This encompasses the entire hipster trend at the moment of crop tops, floral high pants, etc. Maybe I'm just not cool enough.) With the style mantra of feminine, elegant and timeless in mind, I easily rid of all the frivolous and girly pieces I'd long outgrown.
While tossing some ugly jeans is easy enough (I had a light pair that were bedazzled. I kid you not.), it's the non-tangible clutter in our lives that's a little harder to rid of. Deciding what even counts as unnecessary in your life can be a challenge; I know I still have trouble differentiating between what's glamorous and fun and what's detrimental to me. With so many ups and downs being inevitable, keeping one rule in mind seems to be the trick: does this make me happy long term? That last word is key. Instant gratification is easy as pie...it's long term gratification that defines maturity.
Negative influences such as (for me anyway) overly dramatic "friends", selfishness and perhaps the most detrimental of them all, cheesecake, at the end of the day aren't paths to my long term happiness. And, for the most part I've been able to kick them to the curb (except for cheesecake. But I'm working on it...kind of.) These past few warm days have coincided with some wake-up calls in my life lately and what better time of year than nature's rebirth to make some improvements! Nothing crazy -- although my fitness kick made my dad ask me in all seriousness "Are you kidding?" when I said I was going for a run -- but rather a newly conscious way of making decisions. Simply being aware of what impacts us and what doesn't makes a world of a difference. For me this means not letting silly things affect me for the worse, a renewed focus on my writing and loved ones, and my health. A total Spring cleaning I need not: just tweaking and fine-tuning. Bring on the warmer weather.
x
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