Do-It-Your-Self-Help, M’ija

Ideally, I would like to launch this blog by saying that as I breathe, the summer air fills my lungs, flowers are more beautiful then ever and the streets of the city are overcrowded with people. But sadly, I cannot. We, here, in Toronto, have yet to see a summer. But despite how uncooperative the weather has been thus far, it has not hindered my peers from dating more frequently and lovers from searching for, shall we say, unexplored pastures to carry out the Kama Sutra positions they’ve exercised indoors all winter long. The fact is, we still embrace summer: rain, clouds and all. Life goes on and single hearts persist in their search for love.

The summer craze led to an interesting discussion one evening. One night while I was out having a drink with some of my girlfriends, the inevitable topic of men came up. One of them, the single one, made the statement, “why is it so difficult to find a good man?” At that moment and I hate to admit this, I judged her. I sat back and allowed an influx of both appropriate and not-so-appropriate thoughts to flow through this head of mine. I knew that I couldn’t respond with complete honesty and say: “M’ija it’s clear as day: your sad attempts at being posh and that air of arrogance that you emit make men sprint in the opposite direction.” Rather, being the educated woman that I believe myself to be, my filter kicked in and I soon realized that I was not about to pinpoint her imperfections, cuz god knows, we all have those. So instead, I smiled, and responded that she just hasn’t met the right person yet. Luckily, I was only on my second sextini because any more would have impeded my filter from working and I would have divulged my voracious opinion.

Now, come to think of it, I truly wasn’t lying, for I’m sure someone on this grand globe would look beyond her negative attributes and justify a relationship with her by seeing something more substantial. But if this is so, then why has my girl been through a series of relationships with no success? As she puts it: she’s always falling for the wrong man: single men, committed men, married men, you name it, she’s savoured it. But with the promise of love lost and invariably followed by a film of distrust, she’s now so jaded that you almost feel sorry for her. However, I’m not at that point yet-you know, feeling sorry for her. Anyway, I know this may sound not-so-nice, but I really do think this lack of ability to find a good man lies in her inability to recognize her own flaws. You see, in addition to her arrogance and itch for the “good life”, she’s a bit of a control freak. She controls every aspect of her life so to create the illusion that she’s ‘Ms. Perfect’. Well, I’ve got news for you, amiga…what you fail to understand is that you cannot always control life’s outcomes, it’s completely impossible. Now and then it’s necessary to put aside this domineering behaviour and embrace the unexpected because it might one day result in something quite extraordinary. Until she realizes that the lethal combination of all aspects of her personality are a recipe more destructive than the uranium-laden Little Boy, she will continue the struggle to achieve what she seeks most: love. So I ponder the question: Do I tell her that she needs to do some do-it-your-self-help before Mr. Right comes along? Do I tell her that her pretentiousness is the reason she finds herself coming home to an empty abode. Essentially, it’s only when she learns to be vulnerable and allow herself to freely fall from the chains of egoism will she be able to freely embrace what genuine love truly is.

Unbreakable Bonds

They say little girls grow up dreaming of their wedding day. Dressed in a pink puffy princess-like dress with Mr. Snuggles as their prince charming, they play out the sequence of that special moment: walking down the aisle to greet the man they love. But somehow, somewhere this phase bypassed yours truly. I traded in the pink dress for a BMX bike and Mr. Snuggles was actually a fire cracker gun. I was indeed a member of the boys’ club, until I discovered the laws of attraction, that is. After that, I swapped everything for pink nail polish, a baby doll dress and some killer Mary Janes. I was on route to diva status and I embraced it.

Now, little girls grow into women and women still have the same dream of encountering a man worthy of marrying and loving. You see, last night I dreamt of my mother. She was helping me pick out a wedding dress and, like the diva my mother was, she had the entire store totally working for me. I felt like such a star as I was ambushed by an array of dresses. In the midst of picking out “the dress”, the oddest thing happened. I was awakened by my significant other’s alarm clock and I woke to the singing voice of Mick Jagger chanting the tune “You can’t always get what you want.” Can you believe this!? Remaining nestled in my bed, I couldn’t help but laugh as the irony of the situation was just uncanny. I told Big M about what had just occurred in my dream and we had a good morning chuckle. Let me tell you, you can never start a day off badly with a good morning laugh.

But really! What did this dream signify? Could those be wedding bells in the not so distant future? I think so. You see, it’s been two years since Big M proposed under the Spanish skies, while sipping sangria, on a Madrid patio with a toothless waiter. It couldn’t have been more perfect. In fact, it was so perfect, I remember that day clearly. I even remember the beads of sweat on Big M’s forehead from his nerves. Well, actually, those could have resulted from the 40 degree weather we were having, but, I prefer to think that he was nervous before popping the BIG question. It’s more dramatic. In any event, when I think of marrying this man, I get excited. When I think of this man giving me children, I am elated and when I think of dying, I want him by my side. Such a gentle soul to accompany me through life’s many obstacles and triumps. Sometimes we’re spoiled by the gifts life has bestowed upon us and caught up in life’s pangs, one can forget about what really counts. But, by recognizing this means you’ve blossomed. Unearthing the value of what wonderful things life has offered and nurturing it is vital to your relationship. So you see, here’s where everything connects. This revelation together with my dream signifies that I am finally ready! Ready for what you ask? Well, ready, to marry this man and commence a life as husband and wife and create a new generation of little M's and Cosmo girls. I think I’ve waited long enough and it’s about time that I kick this baby into first gear and start to plan my fairytale wedding. Clearly, Mick Jagger didn’t know what the hell he was talking about, and he obviously doesn’t know yours truly.

But I must say, with all this being said, I have not drawn upon this conclusion solo. Remember my dream? Well, I have to thank my mom for yet again opening my eyes to another one of life’s little lessons through her stealthy little ways. With her clandestinely guiding me in my dreams, I’ll never go astray. Happy Mother’s Day ... you are deeply missed.

Me and the Music

There I was in my little black dress, gracefully accessorized, well, at least I like to think so, and ready for my debut at the symphony. Yes, I was a symphonic virgin up until this past weekend and I am proud to say that I am virgin no more. I have always wanted to go to the symphony and I guess the years of indirectly pestering my significant other paid off. I’ve always appreciated the classical arts, on a mediocre level, but after this particular evening the sense of perception that I have for this genre of music has effectively intensified. To describe it in words, I can’t, as I don’t think I’ll do it any justice, for it was too beautiful for any linguistic form. All I can offer is to share my experience.

I’ll never forget that night: sitting in all that open space filled with the charming sounds emitted from the instruments - it was not only heavenly but it was sheer exhilaration. I have never been so moved. I sat back and inhaled what seemed to be nothing but absolute purity released into the air, and I was engulfed in nothing but flawless waves of sound. Every time there was a shift in tone, I felt my heart either sink or race to keep up with the flight of emotions. Watching these musicians submerge themselves in their music and play with such passion was breathtaking and precious. I was swept away by emotions and feeling enraptured in song, my emotions got the better of me. I was a mess. Thankfully, I was wearing waterproof mascara. It was an exuberant two hours that I will hold as one of my most memorable moments.

Once my odyssey was over, I couldn’t help but feel utter privilege to have been seated before this group of artists who immersed me in their work and took me on a journey to a harmonic place where I want to go again. Since then, every time I listen to the sounds of a symphony, whether it be in the car, while I’m cooking dinner or soaking in a bath, they never fail to remind me of the place where I once felt united with music.