Friday, October 11, 2013

#40: Be ironic


  1. Using or characterized by irony.
  2. Happening in the opposite way to what is expected, thus typically causing wry amusement.
I've struggled since June to figure out how to end this blog. What started out as something funny and witty I was doing as a laugh with my Grade 12 English class, collapsed like a black hole into an oblivion of narcissism and petty boredom. And when you hate hanging out with yourself, you know you gotta stop! So after a few months hiatus getting back into Top 40 music and eating bacon I'm feeling much more myself, and ready to finish up those last few ignored blog posts from lent.   
It's been quite the journey from me. On the one hand, I have thoroughly enjoyed getting back into writing again, trying on a new skin and walking that talk. It revealed a lot to me about how important writing is in my life, and renewed my ambition of one day being properly published. On the other, I have realized that at this time in history, for my generation, we are consumed with an incredible destructive idea to our well being and general happiness. We have bought into a lie that we have to have it all, and now. 

Someone once asked me why I became a teacher. It's because I have no idea what I am good at. And I don't say that in a "tell-me-how-awesome-I-am" needy way. Truthfully, I enjoy many things, but I don't especially excel at any of them. And I think that's ok. I love learning new things, and I will read or watch just about anything you recommend to me. That's not because I cannot think for myself, but because that's the way that I (and if we're being honest, most of us) find out about new things to pursue in our lives. I enjoy investing myself in something that someone close to me is interested in. That's why I read The Hunger Games series with my Grade 10 English class, and why I am building a Lego spaceship with my 3 year old son. I wouldn't have done these things on my own, but my life and my relationships are far richer as a result of taking the time to try something new.

I may come back to blogging, but for now I'll be taking another break. My novel is whispering to me again, so I will be returning to that for a while. One day, it may even get published, even if it is just in e-book form for $1.99. So for now, dear reader, this is farewell. But before I go, I want to challenge you to try something new today. You will make mistakes, and people will criticize you, but there is nothing more satisfying than the triumph after the struggle.

But like, whatev.

XoX Emma.

Friday, April 5, 2013

#39: Go green

I had very good intentions of going car free at some point in this experiment. Then I remembered I live in MANITOBA! Seriously, this time last year I was in a t-shirt outside. This year, school is still being cancelled due to snow and 'inadvisable weather' (not complaining) and we are worrying about flooding and mosquitoes the size of small horses taking off with our children.

So I did the best i could. This meant driving to Shoppers, parking my gas-guzzling car and walking the one block of town that has not been bought up by the local bank and doing my 'errands'. And by errands I mean gettin' my hair did and buying something from Ten Thousand Villages. Good thing I had my walking shoes on!

"We are all in the gutter, but some of us are looking at the stars."
                                                                                    - Oscar Wilde, Lady Windermere's Fan

Saturday, March 30, 2013

#37: Wear something I found at the thrift store

#38: Listen to new music

While trolling around on YouTube, found this band the other day. Take a listen - if you love Bon Iver (and what good hipster doesn't) you will like these guys a lot:

The Temper Trap - Miracle

Love the lyrics, love the music, love the message. Enjoy.

"The human heart is a strange vessel. Love and hatred can exist side by side."
                                                                                                         - Scott Westerfeld, Peeps

#36: Knit something

#35: Talk about how cultured I am

I remember the first time I saw French like it was yesterday.

It was very early in the morning when I cautiously tip-toed down the hallway. The highly polished hardwood floors creaked gently as I made my way to the half opened door, where the smell of coffee lingered, tempting me toward maturity. I was nine years old.

I pressed my hand up against the ornately carved white wood of the door frame, the other hand lightly touching the brass pull. I peeked around the corner to see Joan propped up on fat, white, downy pillows. Her silk robe was pulled up around her collarbone, glasses perched on her nose.

"Well, come on up then!"

I jumped, literally, onto the multi-layered mattresses and snuggled up next to my aunt. Joan was always my favourite, even if I hadn't told her so. It was one of those things I didn't dare say out loud for fear of loosing some specialness that existed between us, so tenuous that the mere suggestion of it would cause it to lessen somehow.

"Here, read this."

The newspaper before me was written with letters I recognized, but in a way I could not understand. The next hour was filled with French language, history, geography, and most importantly, stories of her time in Paris. I fell head over heels in love.

Many years later I am still in love with France. Now, however when I pick up un journal I can understand not only what is being said, but the beauty with which it is expressed. I have heard it said that when you turn 30, you turn French. After my trip to Paris this coming spring - a trip I have been dreaming of since I realized it as a possibility almost 20 years ago - my 'French Decade' will begin.

Joan recently told my dad she is going 'a bit gaga'. The dementia that ate away at her mother is now the same disease robbing her of those once vibrant memories of strolls down the Champs Elysee and the little girl who hung onto every word. Those memories, like so many others, will live on in my heart. I am so grateful to her for sharing a part of her life that has become a thing beloved by us both.