The Universe hates me (or at least thinks it’s funnier than me.)

So we had an anniversary this weekend. Actually, like, three of them.

11 years ago Rob got brave and asked me out on a date.
Good thing, too. Turned out to be the best last first date, ever.

3 years ago Rob got down on one knee and made an honest woman out of me.
He gave me diamonds. Really, really shiny ones.

Then 2 years ago, we dragged 40 of our nearest and dearest to sunny Mexico for a wedding in the sand (truth? they all just wanted a vacation and totally used us, sheesh)
I walked down the aisle to a song Rob wrote for me on the guitar I bought for him as an engagement gift. (I kinda felt like I owed him for the diamonds.)

So, what threads these lovely events together? December 12.
(Or as Rob and I affectionately refer to it, simply, 12.12)

And that’s why we were at the spa yesterday (finally, the point to this post.)

***

Rob had called the spa on Wednesday in a last-ditch (but well efforted) attempt to get us a weekend’s stay at Le Scandanave, a swanky spa near the skiing village of Blue Mountain. Needless to say, they were fully booked and our anniversary plans [that we should have made ages ago] fizzled. Gawd, like, doesn’t everyone make anniversary plans mere hours in advance? Apparently not.

The next day at work I called the spa.
*(actual conversation)

sandyb: “Hi, I’m calling to confirm our reservation?”

la scandinave girl: “OK, what’s your last name…”

*blah blah blah*

sandyb: “What do you mean you don’t have my reservation?! I booked, like three months ago…”

LSG: “We don’t see a reservation here ma’am, I’m sorry.”

(sidenote: You can learn how I feel about being “ma’am’d” here)

sandyb: “Well, I don’t know what to say then. Is there something we can do? I’m very upset about this” [hold breath, 2, 3, 4..]

LSG: “Let me call you right back ma’am.”

*several minutes pass. I actually get around to doing some real work for the day job, grab another cup of coffee and wait for the phone to ring.. because it will.*

sandyb: “Hello? Yes, this is she.”

LSG: “We have a room for you this weekend, so sorry for the confusion.”

sandyb: “Wonderful. You had me panicked.”

perfect.
***

At the spa, after a frantic mad dash to the boonies for a, he-hem, relaxing massage that I totally lied my way into, I realize two things:

1. I left my bikini at home. (We were supposed to bring swimsuits for the outdoor spas, baths, saunas, etc.) I must now pay upwards of $50 for an ugly rendition of a bathing suit last seen on Baywatch. Dammit.

2. I forgot to ask for “female massage therapists, please”- a cardinal rule of mine (and Rob’s) for like, ever. Oddly, both of us feel more comfortable being oiled and rubbed down by chicks. And, no, it’s not a sex thing.

As two dudes round the corner, barefoot and wearing JOGGING PANTS ready to rub us down, I realize the following almost instantly: Although I may be a great liar I am also a big believer in karma, which means a narrowly missed spa appointment, being out fifty bucks for a lopsided bathing suit that I don’t want, like or will ever wear again, and being rubbed down by someone who resembles the Close Talker from Seinfeld is the Universe’s way of giving me the finger.

Point taken, Universe. You win.

This time.

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Filed under confessional, Note to Self

12.12

this morning i woke up next to you.
“how did i get so lucky?” i asked.
and then you kissed me and said, “it was me who got lucky first.”

all my heart. all my love. all my life.
happy anniversary.

4 Comments

Filed under On my mind

This is what relearning what you’re made of looks like..

Whoever said that the little things add up to be big things was right.

Amidst the beautiful and fluffy pillows, surrounded by the Happiest Place on Earth, I started to cry. And my husband just looked at me and then he hugged me, hard.

“What can I do?” he asked.

To which I replied, “I don’t think there’s an easy answer. But I need to fix this on my own.”

I cried hard that afternoon, released. I cried to so hard I sobbed, and strange noises came out of my throat, from deep, deep inside.  Ya, it was one of those cries.

So what had me so up in arms? Near devastation?

Frustration.. with myself. With friendship. With dreams. With time. With indecision. Frustration with frustration. You know the feeling I’m talking about? It’s the worst, and so exhausting, and in that moment I finally collapsed. So many little things had just added up to one big thing – one very big cry. But why then? All I can think is that when you finally just give yourself a moment of pause, a second to simmer down, some things will just inevitably boil to the surface- like the way a cold hits you while you’re vacationing in the tropics or you crash early on a Friday night after a week that’s worn you out – when you least expect it, when you’re the most vulnerable, the little things will add up and you will react. Just part of being a silly human, I guess.

But this post isn’t about my sadness though, it’s about my hope for better things to come, because they always do.

I’ve learned, in the last few months especially, there is no amount of money, there is no neighborhood, no trip, no fancy job, no designer handbag and no amount of yoga that can fill the gaps you’ve allowed to separate you from your life.

I’ve learned that as charmed as life can be, as mine is, there is so much more I want to feel, to be, to understand. There really is no limit to happiness, but for some reason I thought there should be- I thought, long ago, I had reached my quota and run out of happy. “This is it! This is as good as gets and you really should stop striving for more, you silly, spoiled girl. You’ve done it all for a gal your age, so just be content already!” That little thought added up to one very big cry.

You see, for some time I’ve lived by those limits, even though I knew there was so much more I could do, could be, and that meant not always living as authentically as I am programmed to- not being fair to the things that make me tick.

During this reinvention of mine I’ve also learned that living against the grain is one thing – a good thing – but living against your own grain is not. Inevitably you will turn into someone else, someone you don’t quite recognize anymore. Someone who cries at the Happiest Place on Earth.

And so there, amidst tears, pillows and my husband’s arms, I’m gave myself permission to enjoy the things I deserve when they finally come to me, because I know, deep down, they will.

Since that cry, I’ve decided to make some changes. I’m ready to be myself again. That day I relearned what I thought I knew, but had so obviously forgotten:

I have a say in what goes on here.

I hope this post inspires you, even a little bit, to ask yourself today, “Am I being real with myself?” And “If judgment, criticism or fear were not hindrances, but fuel for my dreams, what would I do with the next year of my life? Really.”

But I must tell you, when you ask yourself this, bring tissues. And some fluffy pillows.

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Filed under Reinvention Inspiration, Stuff I know for sure

Just because. God, I love her.

If you don’t already lurk this lovely lady’s blog, do it now. Seriously, go!

2 Comments

Filed under STUFF YOU SHOULD WATCH

I blame the Magic Kingdom for adult crying fits, over-zealous children, baby barf and the five pounds I gained in four days.

So, Florida.

It was a lot of wonderful things all at once, with one very significant sandyb-style break-down, which I’ll dish about in a momento.

For years, I’ve wanted to take Rob to Disney World. I went there twice (three times?) as a child and swore up and down that it really was The Happiest Place on Earth. The happiest? Can’t say for sure at the young ripe age of 29, but it certainly has it’s perks, including being old enough to drink AND ride the Tea Cups. Amazing.

So.

Finally my husband selling his soul to Corporate Canada (doesn’t quite have the same ring to it as “America”, but anyway) paid off in a big, fancy way: we ate well, drank much and hot-tubbed on the company tab while visiting the Sunshine State. Wow, dreams really do come true.

Things were going swimmingly, just swimmingly, when suddenly, on the hotel bed, following a day of Disneying, amidst the plethora of pillows, down comforters and 500-thread count sheets, I started to cry. And not just any cry, this was an ugly cry. The real deal.

“What’s wrong?” asked my doting husband, to which I replied among gobs of snot and tears, “Nothing.” (obviously).

But there was something very, very wrong with me. There has been something “off” for some time in fact, but it’s something that I chose not to give a lot of consideration to because I didn’t want to fuel it – I didn’t want to dignify it with a reaction. But ignore something long enough, like a tax bill, credit card statement, hang nail or screeching kid (all equally annoying to my soul), and eventually it gets so you just can’t ignore it anymore. In fact, your attempt to shrink it with a dose of neglect will inevitably only make it bigger.

So there I was, at the Happiest Place on Earth, a slobbering, blithering, sniffling mess (bibbidi, bobbidi, boo) and my poor husband without an inkling of an idea what to do with me. Worse? I didn’t know what do to with myself, although I did have an idea (OK, I’d been having whole brainstorm sessions) about why I was so beside myself, so unable to cope in that moment, so unreasonably irrational and messy…

…Phewf. Need a breather. Be right back to tell you the rest. Prom-ise.

3 Comments

Filed under Reinvention Inspiration, Stuff I know for sure

If you saw me driving in my car this morning, here’s what I was really thinking instead of paying attention to the road.

Note to Self:

Smarten up.

The only way you’re ever going to get the things you want is if you decide they’re meant to be yours. So, frig, just decide already because seriously Self, you’ve been sitting on the pot too long, so just shit already. This applies to house-hunting, impending business plans, work, friendships and the Michael Kors bag that you didn’t buy for 60% off and now you’re telling everyone, “Well, I didn’t like it that much anyway..” which you know is a lie, because you did. You do. The next time designer anything is on sale, you don’t “think” about it, you act, dammit.

And while we’re in this traffic and sitting idly like sheep for slaughter, Self, you should know.. your blog is pissed at you and so are the wonderful people who read it. You give the blog no love these days, no love. And you and I both know why. You work too much! Where’s the fun in your life. Work, work, work, that’s all you do! What started out as a way to document your List has turned into more, sure, and it’s not always easy to sit down and spew heart-felt learnings that come about from reinventing via, quite possibly, the most important List you’re ever going to make. I get it. But seriously Self, just blog your ass off, because you know that writing is where your heart is.

And also, Self, you might want to consider bringing back the bangs. Although, you should check with your sister. This sort of matter really needs to be discussed, explored and then called to a vote. And you know it’s true.

Lastly Self, while I have you here, traffic is a douchebag on steroids. Hurry up and win the lottery or write a best-selling novel or screenplay (or strip, whatever) so you can hire an effing driver already, you know, like you’ve always wanted.

Think less. Want more. Act always.

Oh, and by the way, you’re officially late for work now, so forget about Starbucks.
****

Note to you:

I love my blog (and hope you do, too!) and after a pep talk with mySelf I’ve decided to do more of the things I love to do, without thinking so much. Really, because thinking is exhausting and complex and layered, and not like a good complex and layered, like layered cake or pudding, more like the bad kind of layered, like three sweaters and only one T-shirt and you’re not wearing a bra, so now you have to keep the sweaters on or risk nipping-out in front of total strangers, coworkers or neighbors you can’t stand.

See, exhausting.

Has your blog (or blogs you read) changed its direction or vibe since you started? How did/do you handle that? Do tell..
(PPS, one of my favorite bloggers, Not That Kind of Girl, is doing her FIRST ever blogiveaway today (he-hem, changing her blog direction in slight) and I totally love her moxy for it!! Check it out! (tell her sandyb sent you..).

11 Comments

Filed under Note to Self, Reinvention Inspiration

If pictures really are worth a thousand words, what kind of vocab do you suppose this little number racks up?

13 Comments

Filed under Reinvention Inspiration