Instant idiot, just add alcohol

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This post was inspired by a weekend that happened at my former place of employment.  I’m not sure why this memory surfaced, perhaps because hiring season has begun, but I heed to the advice of my muse.

Our resort hosted a few bus loads of college students, or perhaps a more appropriate definition would be potential future employees.  These eager young scholars were taken on overnight excursions from resort to resort to see what working life would be in their chosen field of hospitality.  The direct result of this adventure was more of an extended recess than a field trip.

There is a reason that the LCBO and multiple organizations urge us to drink responsibly.  After a few too many, we become abhorrent mutations of our former selves and lose all sense of discipline and self-control.  The “White Elephant in the Room” campaign is meant to draw attention to drinking and driving.  Perhaps we should also have a campaign for drinking and being an idiot.   For now, let’s call it the “Saturated Moron” campaign.

I’m not going to lie and tell you that I have never over-imbibed but only once have I ever lost control of the person I have strived to become.  And even in that moment (that I am not so proud of) I have never left an impression of myself that created any ill will, any harm or caused any negative feelings.  With the advancement of technology today we have more than a fair shot of seeing our misgivings pop up on websites like YouTube, Instagram, Twitter and Facebook but that doesn’t seem to be enough of a deterrent for those afflicted with the “soak me in booze until I’m flammable” syndrome.

There are certain things to keep in mind when you are beginning a night out with friends and alcohol will be involved.  If you think you become more attractive when you’re hammered, you do not.  If you feel you can dance like a professional, this is untrue.  And if you think your friends won’t take every opportunity to humiliate you and make sure there is photographic evidence of your drunken shenanigans, think again.

Obvious health reasons aside, when we drink too much we simply make bad choices.  Perhaps the first bad choice was to drink to excess in the first place.  The thing to remember is what has been done cannot be undone.  People have very long memories when it comes to things you have done in a drunken stupor and they will do their best to never let you live it down.  Undoubtedly, they will take every opportunity to replay the videos or repost the images of your misfortunes during your intoxication.

Drinking to excess can cause you to black out and have no recollection of the events of the previous evening.  Be assured, it will either come back to you in small scenes like a movie trailer that you can’t seem to stop or in one horrific flashback that you wish you could eradicate from your memory.

These hospitality pupils failed to maintain any sense decorum during their visit because alcohol, which began the night as the co-pilot, swiftly took over the driver’s seat and all Hell broke loose.  The resort showed the battle scars the following morning as toilet paper dripped from the trees.  Broken glass could be seen littering the ground at every turn and a window was broken as the hooligans attempted to gain access to any snacks that may be hiding in the front office.

I can only imagine the fetid stench emanating from the bus windows on that long, torturous ride back to school.  My sympathy to the driver who may still be in therapy a year and a half later.  I’m sure the simple message about drinking to excess was lost on these poor, hung over souls but there was one directive that rang loud and clear that morning – I would not be hiring, or even recommending, any of those students for future employment.

Starting over – 100 Word Song

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She watched his slender frame exit through the doorway for the last time.  Her shoulders were so tense she could feel the pain radiating at the base of her skull.   He opened the car door, waved goodbye and he was gone.

She opened the bottle of wine and fell into the couch.  For the first time in years the house had a serene quality to it.  It was a feeling she hadn’t noticed even missing but now that it was back she allowed that tranquility to bathe her in its warmth.  He was now a memory.  Time to start over.

~

Written for the 100 Word Song Challenge at My Blog Can Beat Up Your Blog.  The song is “Starting Over”, by John Lennon.

Sorry Harry, men and women CAN be friends

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(image credit: Bill Watterson)

I am a tomboy.  I always have been and I’m sure, short of a lobotomy, I always will be.  I grew up with a brother four years my senior and I idolized him.  I wore his clothes, I brushed my hair in the same horrific fashion that he did (pictures from the 70’s are NEVER flattering!!) and I customized my mannerisms to be as close to his as possible. His friends became my friends.

During those formidable years as a young girl growing into adolescence I was always more comfortable around boys.  I never felt the inkling to have tea parties – I always wanted to be rough-housing and tossing the pigskin with the guys.  It was where I felt most comfortable and, to this day, it still is where I find my true self.  Don’t misunderstand, I do enjoy putting on a dress and feeling “pretty” every now and then but if I had my choice I would be shroud in a football jersey, a baseball cap and a comfy pair of jeans playing poker in a room full of dudes. That to me is home.

I have never thought of my platonic friendship with the opposite sex to be an oddity.   I have always been “one of the guys”.   It’s where I feel like I fit in.  The male friends I have had throughout my life have never made me feel like an outsider.  I am in NO way discounting the many women in my life that I have the good fortune call friends.  There is an inherent connection with those strong and vivacious women that I hold dear to my heart and there is no comparison to the depth of friendship I have with them.  Women will always have a strong bond with their female friends, as will men with their male friends.  The point of this post is to celebrate the friendships between men and women.

Television and movies have only perpetuated the impossibility of men and women just being friends by turning every story line into an eventual romance.  Modern day relationships based in reality can dispel that myth rather quickly.  Platonic love does exist between men and women and true friends are hard to come by.  So why should our friendships be defined by our gender?  Friendship isn’t about body parts.  It is about finding people also roaming on this planet who share a common thread.  They have the same likes and dislikes and understand how you work.

The archaic history of male and female relationships was based on a man and woman only relating to each other in their matrimonial home.  Times have changed.  Men and women can be friends….and very good friends.  Don’t let other’s interject their opinions into your friendships.  Break down the barriers, chisel through the ancient beliefs and regardless of the x or y, keep your friends close!

The sun will come out – tomorrow??

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After dealing with the “polar vortex”, the unending snow and a delightful case of Pneumonia, I needed something to cheer me up so I went through the archives and found this pictures to help warm me up!

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This was a sunset in the Caribbean.  I can almost feel the warmth.

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The sun began to settle into the blanket of the clouds.

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The sky just looks so animated and inviting.

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It seemed like the sun’s journey had ended.

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But it poked through the clouds before disappearing into the horizon.

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Taking my own advice

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I give excellent advice – to anyone other than myself.  I have many people ask my opinion and they feel very comfortable getting into very personal matters.  They trust my discretion and they know my words come from a place of empathy and understanding.  I’ve had many people over the years tell me that I should have been a Social Worker.  I have a great ability to listen and to give thoughtful and meaningful opinions or just listen when necessary.

I’ve learned over the years that I can dish it out, but I can’t take it – my own advice, that is, but today I listened to my gut and went to the walk-in clinic.  I know I’m sick when I willingly sit in a waiting room with a multitude of people with the same symptoms I have for a chance to feel better.

After the obligatory three hours between waiting room, exam room and lung test I was given my diagnosis as well as a prescription for some very strong antibiotics.  My seemingly benign flu had morphed into Pneumonia and the doctor was concerned that I had a lung infection as well.  A simple test proved that the lung infection was non-existent but Pneumonia is a big enough hurdle to jump over.

Learning to trust my gut when it comes to personal matters is going to be on the forefront of my goals for the new year.  I didn’t, and still don’t, feel as sick as I am but I’m certainly glad I followed some sage advice today and got myself to the clinic for a professional diagnosis.  I would have told everyone else to get to the doctor, but it took a nudge from a friend or two to take the advice I would have freely expelled to anyone else and get the help I needed.

If you are great at giving advice….take a moment and see if you are following your own wise words.  It was a good lesson learned for me today.

Strong work ethic and stronger cough medicine

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The rattling sound in my chest is an inescapable reminder that I am still sick.  That coupled with the fact that I could pass for James Earl Jones on the phone have steered me from my objective of getting back to work and led me right back to my couch.

I have never in my working life called in sick to just have a day off.   I would never have been able to enjoy a day knowing that my colleagues were doing extra duties to cover my work load because I had lied about my health to have a day of leisure.  Even when I am sick, I have a hard time not going to work.  But this time I didn’t have a choice – this flu kicked my butt.

I worked a few hours on the morning of the 30th and went back in for a few hours on the 31st but my road paved with good intentions quickly became the road home and I spend the next two and a half days curled in the fetal position in my living room praying for the coughing to stop.  I’m not a whiny sick person but whatever this bug was proved that even the strongest people can revert to child-like behavior when they don’t feel like themselves.

Today, after feeling a tremendous amount of guilt for missing so much work, I dragged myself out of bed and made a valiant effort to forget that I am still sick.  I was shocked to open the door to a temperature of -34C.  After only a few seconds of vehement debate, my car turned over and I was on my way to the lodge.  I was greeted warmly by my coworkers until I opened my mouth and spoke a few words.  Their smiles turned to looks of fear and, as they backed further away from me, they all told me to go home.

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As much guilt as I feel for not being able to perform my job, my bosses and fellow employees made me see that I was doing them more of an disservice by being there and possibly spreading my germs.  Although I am past the contagious stage, I quickly heeded their advice and am now curled up on my couch once again with three layers of blankets and a hot cup of tea.

On a side note:  I should have realized how severe this flu was when I discovered I haven’t had coffee in four days!!

There will be no ringing, merely a silent welcome

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The end of the year is nigh. As the clock slowly discards the seconds and minutes of 2013 the mad preparations begin for those who want to ring in the New Year with a bang. Parties are planned, the guest lists are set and the decorations are waiting to be boldly displayed. The party hats are silently waiting in a corner soon to adorn the heads of the anticipated drunken guests and the blowers will soon be filled with alcohol saturated saliva. The song Auld Lang Syne will be warbled, some syllables will inevitably be missed by the inebriated choir, and some words will be hysterically incomprehensible.

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This year, once again, I am following a beloved tradition that I started a few years ago – I will welcome the new year at home with no loud music and no intoxicated visitors. Like Valentine’s Day, for me New Year’s Eve is a holiday that I cannot seem to celebrate with the same enthusiasm as others. January 1st is certainly a new beginning but it really is just another day. It does not wipe the slate clean going into that New Year but brings with it all of the memories and experiences from the previous year. I do enjoy embracing a new calendar year and do think about the potential that the year ahead may embody but I choose not to begin that new calendar year with my arms wrapped around a porcelain vessel while popping Alleve like Tic Tacs and drinking more water than a camel that bypassed every pond in the desert.

My New Year’s Eve is quiet, contemplative and subdued. My New Year’s Eve is filled with twinkling lights, rich harmonic voices and the company of my four-legged fur child.

The beef tenderloin is in the fridge, the extra-large uncooked shrimp are in the freezer and an aged Shiraz Cabernet blend that I have been saving is awaiting the countdown on December 31st. This is my perfect New Year’s Eve. This small piece of solitude and reflection before the beginning of a new year is my favorite way to welcome January 1st. There are no noise makers, there are no obscenely drunk people pin-balling from random pieces of furniture and there is no making excuses for leaving early before the big countdown. This is bliss.

After setting up the candles and starting The Tenors ‘Lead With Your Heart DVD’, I will open up the wine and remove the crystals. I will graciously let it breathe on its own for about 20 minutes before I assist in the process and begin giving it mouth to mouth for about three hours. I will let all of the bad moments of this past year remind me of the lessons I learned and I will let the good moments bathe me in a euphoric feeling that I will carry with me into 2014.

Happy New Year to you all and may 2014 be the best year yet!!

The least important days

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Life moves at a million miles an hour and so many times I feel engulfed by its pace and overwhelmed by the many things I have to balance on a daily basis. It feels like several days attack me all at once but I have to learn to step back and change the pace of that onslaught.

There are always two days in every week that I should learn to ignore – yesterday and tomorrow.  They always weigh heavily on me and distract me from today.  I focus too much on what I didn’t accomplish yesterday and think forward too often about what is waiting for me tomorrow and I forget to live in the present.

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(image courtesy of babydearlyn.blogspot.com)

I need to embrace each day as an opportunity to live life to the fullest and accept whatever challenges may face me on that one day.  There is no sense in worrying about what tomorrow will bring because I will never be able to truly know that.  And  there is no point in reliving yesterday because it is over.  I cannot change the past.  It will reflect itself in my present, sure, but I can choose how much power I give to that reflection.

I need to lay yesterday to rest and not consume myself with thoughts of tomorrow.  My favorite saying (and my email address in short form) is Carpe Diem – Seize the Day.  Life happens and there is nothing I can do to stop the moving freight train of time.  I can only choose how I ride that train.  I can look out behind me and see where I’ve been, I can look ahead and ponder where I am headed or I can embrace the vibrations of life flowing through the train and live in the moment. The choice is mine.

Today, I am making the conscious choice to forget all of the things I didn’t accomplish yesterday.  I cannot go back and do anything differently.  Today, I am making a concerted effort not to think about tomorrow and what lies ahead.  Today, I am going to live only for today.  Carpe Diem!

You are not a tree

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I am fortunate to be able to say that I am happy with my life.  I enjoy my job and the people I work with, I love my little house and the privacy it affords me and I love living in Muskoka.  Not everything in my life has been picture perfect but that awareness empowers me to alter the things in my life that are not working and follow the path that I envision for myself.

So many people I encounter don’t seem to have the same luxury of being able to say they are content in their own lives. They seem to radiate negative energy and the lessons that are presented in their lives become more of a burden than a learning experience.  The “glass half empty” attitude fills the room and stifles any potential for that glass to be filled again.

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With the impending shift in the calendar, the welcoming of a New Year and possible making of resolutions, we have to remember that we are not trees.  We are not rooted so deeply into the soil of our lives that we are unable move and make a change.  We are not permanently stuck in one spot for the rest of our lives, able to only move in one direction.  We are afforded the freedom of being able to make a change in our lives whenever we feel the desire to alter our destiny.  It may be a daunting task to uproot yourself and start over but, when you flip to the other side of that coin, what could be the lesser of the two evils?  With change always comes doubt but happiness will always trump fear.

Give yourself permission to do whatever it takes for you to be happy.  Put down some roots but if the place you have planted yourself smothers your potential for growth, dig up the roots, plant yourself again and start over.  You have to give yourself the opportunity to flourish and, if that means beginning again in a different location, trust that your happiness is worth the effort and do whatever it takes to find that perfect place.

Plant your feet and blossom but leave room to uproot, branch out and grow.