Dear 2012

I am sitting at the exact same place, at the exact same time, as I was last year, writing this. The difference this time though as I reflect on you is that I am entering 2013 truly optimistic. Last year I entered you hoping for things to get better. Wishing actually. Life doesn’t work that way. A deep breath and a hope for better things to come doesn’t mean anything. It’s something we use to sleep better at night. You taught me the lesson we all learn at one point in our life, we have no control. We try over and over, but what happens to us is out of our control. So here I sit at the same table, in Tofino, a few hours before midnight, the same house filled with my closest friends, and I think about you.

It’s easy for me to say I wish you never happened. It’s easy for me to think you were horrible to me. The year before now seems like a hazy dream, one where I wallowed over things that were actually in my control. When things happen that are not in your control, there is a giant dose of reality that washes over you that is equal parts frightening, and somewhat liberating. You gave me a giant dose of reality in the Spring, and then the hits kept coming. Actual hits. Hits that I could do nothing about, except accept the situation and allow all the emotions to course through my veins. All of this woke me the fuck up. Thank you. I should fucking hate you. But I don’t. You taught me life lessons that need to be learned. I can’t fault you for that. You made me feel every possible emotion one can have this year, and it’s welcoming.

So I enter 2013 optimistic. Because I’m not hoping for things to get better, I accept what hand you dealt me this year, and I’m curious to what will come. To where hidden desires that have recently been awoken well take me. Because of you. I thank you for reminding me how lucky I am. You were so fucking rough. So raw. But because of you, the sound of my friends laughing who have lost even more than me this year makes my heart warmer than anything else. Seeing my family smile at Christmas despite the hole that my Opa left gives me all the strength I need. Seeing a friend run on the beach laughing in delight and rediscovering herself after suffering the worst of heartbreaks. These are the things that make you worthwhile. You fucked us up. But we survived. And we are loved. And we are still happy.

Come at me 2013.


Answers I actually want to give during the Holidays.

Every year comes the point in December where you just end up in a loop of the same conversations as you make your way through the Holiday parties, last minute meet ups with friends, and the grande finale with your family members for Christmas dinner. By then all the questions that have been asked in your December holiday tornado each have their own perfected answer. I’m sure we all have our own rehearsed scripts, matched with the internal monologue of what we actually want to say while we down our glasses of wine. So take my blog URL literally, below is my inner thought process.

“How is work going?”

What I say: Pretty good. Busy. Looking forward to having a few days off.

What I want to say: I fucking hate everyone right now, and I’m pretty sure a new level of stupidity has been created that we’ve all graduated to. If someone threw us into the Hunger Games we would all collectively die in the first 5 minutes. When my alarm clock goes off a montage of possible excuses as to why I can’t come to work play in my head while I watch the fucking crows outside my window judge me for being a lazy asshole.

“Are you still working in television?”

What I say: Yup.

What I want to say: I have a Quebec high school diploma and went to Vancouver Film School, where else am I supposed to be working?

“Are you dating anyone?”

What I say: Not really, haven’t met anyone I’ve really connected with lately.

What I want to say: If by dating you mean ignoring the calls from my one legitimate suitor that I drunkenly met at a bar, trying to figure out how I can seduce older richer men without completely losing my soul, getting constantly hit on by men in serious relationships, and of course devising a plan on how to properly string together a sentence to the men I actually do like, than I am DEFINITELY dating.

“Any plans for next year?”

What I say: Just finishing this work contract, and a Euro vacation in the summer with Franz.

What I want to say: Continue giving pieces of my sanity to television until I am in Europe where drinking every day for no reason whatsoever is socially acceptable.

“Hey you still planning on going to L.A.?”

What I say: It’s been really hard getting this dual citizenship and the VISA I want to apply for. So at this point I don’t know, I have to think it over.

What I want to say: Please don’t ask me about this, I currently feel like a failure and I need to figure out what the next step of my life is, and it’s giving me anxiety attacks because I know I need a huge change and I haven’t figured out what or where I want it to be omgherecomesanotherpanicattack.

“So did you have a good 2012?”

What I say: Um, it had it’s ups and down. It was really nice to have the summer off.

What I want to say: HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA¬†ugh I’m a mess.

“Did you want another drink?”

What I say: Yes please, thank you.

What I want to say: Point me to the bottle.