over 30 random facts about me

Time for some levity, so this blog will be chocked full of irrelevant things you probably didn't know about me, and were still able to live happy, fulfilling lives.

my 'jewel' is green and dangles

• I have a tiara. Not a plastic pink one, but a shiny bronze one with one very small jewel. It's difficult to find in my hair if it's curly, but I know it's there and that's what counts. I bought it for myself. I realize this goes against my ego slimming mediation and yoga practice, but I'm okay with that, so far. Raj (my meditation coach and yoga teacher), if you're reading this (which is not likely, I  don't think he is the blog reading type), it's best you find out now that I'm  superficial and vain and hopelessly attracted to shiny things.

actual size MUCH larger

• I have a scar on my bum from a very large pair of sewing scissors that my grandmother had left in a big cushy chair that I flung myself into -wearing a brand new pair of blue corduroy pants - when I was 14years old. They got stuck, and I was so mortified about having scissors in my in my bum that I hopped up and ran to the bathroom and pulled them out myself. I should have had stitches, but my 14year old dignity could not have endured that so I did my own first aid, first to my butt, and then to my new pants. To this day I have never told anyone in my family, and my grandmother went to her grave not knowing the humiliating injury I suffered in her home. I have to say I wasn't very skilled at either, and the pants looked very poorly mended and the scar remains, although the nearby hip replacement scar is much more impressive.

• I talk to my pets, my plants - indoor and outdoor, not because it is good for them, but because I can't help myself. I also talk to my car, my bed (mostly terms of endearment when I crawl into it at night), many inanimate objects, and because I'm Canadian I say "thank you" to bank machines, and "sorry" to sentient and non-sentient, animate and inanimate things. 

• Growing up I wanted to be a Veterinarian, (and an Artist, but could never imagine making my living with Art, I wish now I had tried to at least) but there were only a few schools in Ontario, and they were difficult to get into. I went into science instead, and after my Biology degree I studied Nursing, which I loved, and filled my life with many, many animals. 

• I can't work as a nurse in this country because bureaucratic obstacles, so I'm looking at going back to school.

• My car's name is Laverne. She's a 13year old Honda Accord with almost 250,000km ( 150,000miles in American) on her. She is the best behaved 13year year female I have ever known, and I adore her. I have put bumper stickers on her that leave no doubt that I am a "liberal-la-la, hippie-tree-hugging-granola-eating freak.

• I secretly yearn for an opportunity to use my "Nearly-Ninja" Hapkido skills on real life bad guys. I swear I'm a pacifist, but just one punch, or a kick or two... is that too much to ask? 

• I've been learning to sing for the last year because 40 years ago my Brownie leader told me to mouth the words when we sang - I was forever scarred and certain that I couldn't carry a tune in a bucket, but this year thanks to a friend and a marvelous voice instructor I have done what would be unthinkable for me. I sang, by myself, in front of an audience (okay, a very small audience of fellow singers, all much better trained than I, but still, an audience). I shook like a leaf and it gave my voice great vibrato, the total body red blotchy rash was a little trickier to explain. It was terrifying and exhilarating, and I'd do it again, hopefully with less shaking and blotchiness. For the full story of my singing career see here

my hair if left to its own devices

• I fuss way too  much about my hair. It's a Leo thing I've been told, still it's way more important to me than it should be (Raj, I really hope you're not reading this - my zen like facade is fading fast...). I do have a friend, and occasionally my kids who know this, and give me encouraging complements about how fabulous my hair looks on any given day. I'm not sure these comments are completely sincere, but hey, I'm always happy to receive them.
• I'm a Leo, and a Dragon and a Number 1 in Numerology - ergo I'm vain, stubborn, bossy, fabulous, loyal, fiery, passionate, susceptible to complements, love presents, glitter and all things shiny.

• I have been taking photographs my whole life, and was a late convert to digital, I still prefer the look you get from film, especially black and white. 
• I also draw, paint, sculpt, collage, zen doodle, doodle doodle, make jewelry, make multimedia pieces ( mixed media is my favourite - it's like cooking, with art)
• I love to cook, meal preparation, however, is not my favourite.
• my favourite meal is one that someone cooks for me, past that I'm not too fussy (well... no eggs or bananas, and pineapple on pizza is just wrong) 

Steps onto soap box

 these opinions are entirely my own, and you may disagree with some or all them, and that's fine with me, but this is my blog, so you're going to get my opinions (with and without the tiara)

• I don't eat pork unless I can find humanely raised meat (I love bacon, and miss it), this is the case with beef and chicken as well. I believe eating something that was treating badly, or terrified when it was killed is bad for my karma/soul/humanity, and also those involved in producing such meat.
• I am Pro-Life for my own body, so far, but that is a Choice I make for myself, I think every woman deserves to be able to make this choice for herself and I would never force my belief on another woman. Men legislating woman's bodies should be run out of office and have their testicular contents publicly examined and critiqued.
• I believe Capital Punishment is morally wrong and damages the souls/karma/humanity of all of those who are involved in ending another's life. Also those who are on death row are a disproportionately low income African Americans who had less than adequate legal representation. 
• I think a society that proposed to legislate a woman's body, legally kill adults who are no longer a threat, and eats food from animals that were inhumanely treated is seriously flawed and backwards and should not be tolerated. As a first world nation with so much of the world's wealth, and so much power, we should be embarrassed and ashamed of such arkaic behaviours.
• I think that, regardless of gender, two people in a loving committed relationship should be able to marry. I think it is ridiculous that this is even a debate.
• I think the witch hunt for immigrants of Mexican decent is something we should be ashamed of as a country. I am an immigrant, but am treated well because I am white, this double standard is simply another form of racism cloaked in cowardly legislation.

am now steps off of soap box

• I write poetry. More specifically I read, write, live and breathe and think in poetry. I started about 10years ago, no idea why. 
• Okay, change that - my astute friend David pointed out what got me started. I discovered Viggo Mortensen as an actor (and thought wow! hot!), found out he wrote poetry (and all sorts of really attractive things that I mention further down) and thought WOW REALLY HOT, and after I read his poetry I thought I'd like to try it. I then read more poetry, and wrote more poetry and it has been a continuous cycle ever since. 
• I should add all the poets I love, but this blog is already long enough; I DID meet Franz Wright a poet I love and THAT was awesome, and I once exchanged Mary Oliver quotes with Sister Helen Prejea, the nun who wrote "Dead Man Walking"and I was bouncing around clapping my hands like a fool for days after that. 
• David Whyte is the hottest poet alive, and I would LOVE (LOVE, LOVE) to go on one of his poetry tours through Ireland.
• Don't get me started on authors I adore.
• I've been published and had two promises of a book fall through, (not much money in books of poetry) so I am still keeping my day job. Neruda says it best (love Neruda)

Poetry

And it was at that age . . . poetry arrived

man with a horse = sexy

in search of me. I don't know, I don't know where
it came from, from winter or a river.
I don't know how or when,
no, they were not voices, they were not
words, not silence,
but from a street it called me,
from the branches of night,
abruptly from the others,
among raging fires
or returning alone,
there it was, without a face,
and it touched me.

Irish man who reads Neruda aloud =sexy

I didn't know what to say, my mouth
had no way
with names,
my eyes were blind.
Something knocked in my soul,
fever or forgotten wings,
and I made my own way,
deciphering
that fire,
and I wrote the first, faint line,
faint, without substance, pure
nonsense,
pure wisdom
of someone who knows nothing;
and suddenly I saw
the heavens
unfastened
and open,
planets,
palpitating plantations,

wrote gorgeous poetry = DAMN sexy

the darkness perforated,
riddled
with arrows, fire, and flowers,
the overpowering night, the universe.

And I, tiny being,
drunk with the great starry
void,
likeness, image of
mystery,
felt myself a pure part
of the abyss.
I wheeled with the stars.
My heart broke loose with the wind.

Old Spice Guy on a horse, still sexy

• Nothing is sexier than a man with an accent reading Neruda
• A man on a horse is almost as sexy as a man reading Neruda
• A man on a horse reading Neruda would just be overkill, but I'd still be willing to listen

• I LOVE Horses, I love their grace, strength, beauty personalities (well not all personalities). One day I will own my own and ride everyday.

• I LOVE being beside large bodies of water, and one day will have a small home near the water, with my horse, dogs and cats. Ideally the ocean, but any large lake will do.

• I study Hapkido, Yoga (Hatha, Kriya, Svaroopa, Iyengar, and Kundalini), Meditation (Mindfulness, Guided, Mantra, Focused and Movement), and Tai Ji. I read books by the Dalai Lama, Pema Chodron, and Thích Nhất Hạnh, and am still not even slightly Zen like.

maybe  I'm more Zen like than I thought..

• I want to swim and scuba dive near dolphins and whales.

• I love being scared on Roller Coasters, in horror movies, and in books. I get right into it and jump, scream and punch those poor sods who are sitting close to me.

• I purposefully make myself do things that frighten me, like singing, and Improv Acting, and going down into caves etc, and generally love what I discover about myself after doing that thing that frightened  me. 
• Going into underwater caves is still RIGHT OUT, but sky diving is not....

her face is nicer, but my arms look lke this

• I apologize to any bugs I kill - not silverfish though - but mostly I carry outside things like moths and spiders.

• I am in the best physical shape that I have ever been in, and weigh less than when I got married - my measurements, if I could remember them, are likely quite different.
• I hate my nose.

• I read Tarot cards and Palms, and I have a real crystal ball (not that I use it for anything but decoration, but one day.....)

• I cry when other people cry, at movies, during tv shows, the odd commercial, when I watch live performances, while reading, and when really happy - my kids tolerate this weakness gracefully (read: groan and roll their eyes)

• I ADORE Gustav Klimt's  work.  I love art, and believe it's necessary to live.
• Beethoven (and hundreds more musicians) gives me goosebumps. 
• Musicians are my Rock Stars, okay lame, but anyone who can play an instrument, compose music or teach music is pretty damn awesome.

• I have a serious crush on Viggo Mortensen, who, would appear to be the perfect man - poet, father, painter, social activist, multilingual, musician (band with his son, how cool is that?), horse lover/owner, photographer, actor, publisher - what's not to love? Also, he is pretty easy on the eyes. His fatal flaw? He is a Montreal Canadiens fan, but I'm sure he'd get over that for me....

• I have a bionic hip - okay a plain titanium one with no special powers, the other one may need replacing too, but I am putting it off as long as possible. Having a metal hip gets me the full body pat down at airports.
• I am excellent at falling for complete narcissistic, misogynistic jerks, usually ones with an accent - Irish or Spanish so far.
• I feel guilty about not being able to provide well enough for my kids.

• I am fiercely proud that I am Canadian, and may move back there when my kids are finished school here.

• I sleep with 6 pillows, a couple of cats, and a large greyhound named Fezzik (he sleeps in his own bed and spends the night farting and slurping)

• I get migraines and they have caused 16 mini-strokes in my brain, and a pixel sized blind spot in my right eye. I always wonder if I'm having mid-age memory glitches or having another little stroke. So far I've held it at 16 and am generally compliant with my neurologist, except for the Hapkido part (my hip surgeon shakes his head as well...)

•  I'm left handed, left eyed, left eared and my legs, I think, are ambidextrous, although when sparring, I kick more with my right leg. My left brain is likely the size of a raisin and gets bullied by my right brain. I process everything visually - which makes it nearly impossible for someone to give me directions over the phone.

• I have an excellent sense of misdirection (or a terrible sense of direction, but I prefer to focus on the positive)

• Six years ago I was in a major rollover car accident - it rolled 5 or 6 times and caught fire - I managed to crawl out with only minor injuries and some really cool scaring on my left elbow which apparently hit the ground with each revolution.

•  I have a larger than average head. I broke a board with my head once - something I did not share with my neurologist.

• I've broken lots of boards with my hands and feet, I think my Martial Arts teacher likes to show people that if this middle aged woman and break boards, just think what you could do....

• I write, sing, read, eat chocolate (dark only), drink coffee and laugh every day.

• I stay up too late, and get up too early - hence the love of coffee - when I was in Belgium whenever they brought you a coffee they brought a little cookie, cake or piece of chocolate with it, that's what I call a country with it's priorities in the right place.

• I want to inspire people, I'm just not sure how to do that yet.

Sing out loud

I have discovered that, very occasionally, some of my preconceived notions, things I believed were absolute, things that were on solid ground, these notions,  have turned out to be, well, not so solid. Maybe it’s to do with my 40s, perhaps I’m going through a second adolescence, but with less acne, and a much thicker waist. I’ve given up a few bad habits that I thought I could never live without. I discovered Buddhism and UUism and embraced both. I’ve discovered that the world I was so sure of 10years ago does not exhist anymore.

my pennies, so far

Which brings me to this blog, a homework assignment. Homework from my Voice/Singing Instructor, Vickie. I am  to write about singing. Yes,  Voice Lessons. In a fit of bravado I decided to get over my own Phonophobia, get way out of my comfort zone and see if what I thought about singing, specifically mine, had any basis in fact. I have handed myself over to a woman who when she tells me to lie on the floor and hum, stick two fingers in my mouth and sing, bend my knees when I attempt high notes, or sing like Ethyl Merman, I say okay, and get into position.  Also, the best part, she gives me pennies when I do well! Most of the time I have no idea why I'm doing what I'm doing, but Vickie seems to know what  she's talking about, so I do as I'm told, which includes writing about singing.

Singing and I have a long and tragetic history. Even my own mother told me I couldn’t carry a tune in a bucket, that no one in our family could, it was a perverse sores of pride for us. The house I grew up in was mostly silent. My mother, the libarian filled our house with books, which was lovely, but very quiet. There was no radio playing, I don’t think we owned one, and the TV, that was tucked downstairs in the basement like a shameful secret. The record player was used maybe once a year to play classical music when company was over and my brother and I were banished. My brother, it turns out, has a marvelous voice, bass, deep, rich and in his thirties he taught himself to play guitar, banjo, ukulele and likely several more instruments. He joined a choir. I watched in amazement as this blood relative of mine brazenly expressed himself musically. Helping my children with their piano lessons was enough to convince me that I had no aptitude what so ever with musical instruments.

I might have got over my first opinion of my voice had it not been for ..... (dramatic pause, feel free to gasp) Snowy Owl! This trama to my musical ego came when I was about 9 years old and a Brownie. During a singing circle Snowy Owl leaned over and whispered that I should just "mouth the words".  That sinched it. My voice was no good. After that every comment, however slight, slide into that “best to mouth the words” crevice of my brain. I wanted to sing, very much so, but became very shy about the sound of my voice. Later I would think it ironic that I could easily remember lyrics to most songs, but would never sing them out loud unless I was alone, and the music was louder than my own voice.

I have always cringed at the sound of my own voice, not as I hear it when I speak, but if I hear it recorded. To me it sounds dreadful, heavy and nasally. I dislike hearing a recording of my voice as much as I dislike having my photo taken. The sad part is there has always been a part of me that wants to be up on stage, wants to be speaking, wants to be singing, that part of me got quieter over the years. Sadly my teenage dreams of  fame and adoration were cut off at the knees, and my performing only happened when I was alone in the car. Secretly, I would love to be on a stage, looking fabulous and singing, or acting. Secretly, because I had always seen it as some nasty trick to give me these dreams and then to make me completely unsuitable for them.  Only now in my 40s has the idea that maybe I might just give this a try popped its head up and ask to be heard.

Having kids can be a great way to get over yourself. When they were babies I sang to them, I performed their stories for them, they were my first and mostly appreciated audience. I find my best audiences are pre-verbal..They didn’t know what my mother and Snowy Owl did, that it would be better if I "mouthed the words", they were happy to have a funny mom.  As they became more discerning, I quieted down, but they are still the people I am mostly myself with. My oldest daughter, Catherine is quite gifted musically. She sings, plays piano, guitar, clarinet, contrabase clarinet, a little ukulele (my brother’s influence) and she has performed musically since she was 4years old. I was her Brownie leader, and you can bet I never told any of my Brownies to "mouth the words". With her perfect ear she seems to need to merely look at an instrument to learn it, and hear a song once or twice to learn to play it. It was with this perfect ear that she once noticed I was “a little flat” when she heard me singing, that comment slipped quickly into the “mouth the words” crevice.

And here I am in my 40s, and in so many ways I worry less and less about what I think other people think of me, and I started paying attention to what I actually thought and liked about myself. This appeasrs to have been a slippery slope thought wise because not only have been taking voice lessons for months, carefully storing every precious ‘good job!’ penny Vickie has given me, but I’ve taken two acting workshops, one classic and one improv, both of which I loved, and plan to do more of. I also took up a martial art, Hapkido, and work my butt off at it am pretty good at it, go figure. My 37year old self would not recognize me at 47.

How I saw myself (in reality it was full length flannel)

There was a turning point that came from a marvelous corrupting influence in my life named Jo, who after singing beside my quiet mummerings in church told me to speak up, that I could sing if I wanted to. What craziness was this? As an aside this woman has managed to worm her way into many of my preconceived thoughts forever changing me, for the better. So there she stood, 6” shorter than me in some flowing garmet, practical hair and stunning voice, a person who has looked her demons in the eye until they blinked and then got on with her life.  A person who hardship has molded into a wiser, more compassionate and beautiful person. She is the sort of person if she told me something, I believed her. Someone who when she spoke you listened to, if you had any sense. This person was telling me to sing. So, a few years ago, because of Jo I did the unthinkable; at our Saturnalia talent show I got up in front of an audience and sang.  Okay it was with about ten other women, all with strong voices, and we were in pajamas so the focus wasn’t completely on me singing. Still, I had a small argument with myself over it, the "mouth the words" part of my brain was saying you have no business being up here with these women you big poser, you should mouth the words for everyone’s sake. Then I would hear Vickie and Jo who gave nothing but positive reinforcement, how could not listen to them? So we performed, and were a smashing success. Afterwards I off handedly said to Vickie, you know I can’t carry a tune in a bucket, or some other preprogrammed message from the nasty crevice. Her response? “I didn’t notice”. This was Vickie, who is all things musical, how could she have missed my dissonant performance? Was it possible I wasn’t a complete flop?

Since then I’ve done some singing workshops, a bunch of chanting and have sung out loud, in a group. Now, with Vickie I’ve sung out loud, on my own with only a piano. An experience I thought I would never have. I don’t always match pitches, and I've been  known to warble a little when I run out of air, but on the whole, I'm not a compete flop, or even a partial flop which all on his own is remarkable.

I'm not up on stage singing, yet, but it is on my bucket list. Right now I'm content to trust the process and see where I end up. Thanks Jo. Thanks Vickie.