Follow Me to the City of Love

I was born on the wrong continent.

Plain and simple. 

Don't get me wrong.  I do appreciate my life here Canada and understand why, 50 years ago, my grandparents, on both sides, decided life would be better in North America.  They were looking for opportunity, they were searching for a dream, they wanted the hardships they endured in rural European towns to be a distant memory.  Success was eminent for them and I now reap the rewards of their decision to emigrate from Italy and Slovenia. My definition of success is not based on bank accounts that are filled with gold and diamonds or rubbing elbows with the upper echelons of society here.  I watch from afar, earning a living that provides me and my children, with that little bit extra that allows us to enjoy life. But even with all that surrounds me, I don't feel like my heart is at home here. 

I have had a fascination with Europe for many, many years, hence the multitude of languages I speak.  One place has been in my heart forever - France.  Interestingly, although my roots are grounded in Europe, it took me 40 years to cross over that big pond.   A couple of years ago, in anticipation of my 40th birthday, I decided to give myself a gift -- a ticket to Paris! 

And what can I say?  Paris was absolutely fabulous.

There was something about the history and beauty of this old city that warmed my heart.  Had I gone to Paris after university, instead of Australia, I am not certain I would have come back. 

I rented an apartment in the 1ere Arrondissment, about a block from the Louvre.  It was a quaint little flat above an Italian restaurant that donned a brightly coloured blue door that fit perfectly among the bistros and restaurants that filled the street.  Around the corner was a boulangerie and the smell of fresh baked bread permeated the neighbourhood.  I was in heaven.

The Eiffel Tower

The Louvre

Walking along the Seine, I curiously explored the green stalls that dotted the Left Bank.  I found two old books - a 1930 illustrated edition of Jules Vernes, Journey to the Center of the Earth and a 1778 edition of some collected works of Voltaire.  The smell of the books and feel of the leather and onion paper was a sensory delight!  As I continued to rummage through these stalls, I was delighted to stumble upon some old postcards from 1914 to 1948, beautifully hand written, with messages to old friends.  I am a hopeless romantic and these little nostalgic items were what made my trip.  These items were proof that life goes on well after your soul leaves this world. Each corner of this city had a story and secret to tell and I felt it.  

The Seine

The pedestrian bridge between the Musee D'Orsay and the Louvre, le Pont des Arts, was filled with the locks of lovers who vowed eternal devotion to one another. I spent a lot of time sitting on this bridge, staring out at the beautiful city of Paris, lost in reverie.  Did Dali sit on this same bridge?  Did Hemingway look out at the city and search for inspiration?  I felt like my soul had been brought back home.  I could see why Paris is called the city of love...not for the couples who sit on the bridges but for the sentiment this city leaves within your being.  It would have been nice to be in love while experiencing this feeling.  I can't help but believe that when combining the two, a person is left with an electric tingle that lasts for many moons. 

Le Pont des Arts

France has left an indelible mark in my mind and on my soul.  My hope, my dream, is to one day live somewhere in this beautiful country, enjoying life, indulging in the cuisine, engaging in meaningful conversations and loving every moment. There is so much more that I could share that would help paint an exquisite picture of this city in your mind.  Perhaps, in the near future, I will continue this tour of Paris, through my eyes, sharing my experience and my photos with you. But unless you feel it first hand, it will never affect you the way it did me.

The Medici Fountain in Luxembourg Gardens - My FAVOURITE place in Paris!

So if you ask me where I am from, I have to answer simply.  I live in Canada but my home is France.


Talk to me!  What place has touched your heart? Where do you call home?

Let the Love Affair with 2014 Begin

This past holiday season was one for the books!  Christmas week started with the anticipation and wonder that every holiday begins and what was even more exciting was that it promised to be a white one...finally!  Snow would have been nice treat but what we got was ICE.  Two days of just below freezing temperatures created just enough ice to crack trees, take down hydro wires and make it virtually impossible to maneuver through our delightful city. 

The kids and I lost power on Saturday night around 10:30pm.  I really didn't think much about it until I woke up really early the following morning and found that it was eerily silent in my building.  Looking out the window, it felt strange to see neighbouring condos dark, not one single light on.  There was no electricity humming through the outlets or any noise from appliances being used.  As much as it was an inconvenience, the calmness and tranquility of it all smacked me in the face like a breath of fresh air. It was nice to get up and not be faced with the long list of "things" I needed to do and I breathed a sigh of relief. 

We take things for granted so often in life and this quiet helped me reflect.  It was nice to see neighbours, who never ventured out, pop out from their eternal hibernation and talk. Neighbours were checking on neighbours and helping carry food and hot coffee up the stairs.  Despite being faced with the horror of no power on Christmas, people were happy and I figured out why. Communities pulled together!  People were once again engaging in off line communication and it was wonderful!  I saw families huddled together in local coffee shops, warming up, charging their phones and having dialogues with their spouses, their children, with anyone who would listen!  People's noses were pulled up from their electronic devices and eye contact was everywhere!  Maybe this ice storm was just what our society needed.

Venturing outside was just as spectacular.  Luckily, I don't live very high up and was able to move between in and outside without much discomfort or fatigue (although, I did decide that it was time to hit the gym again!)  My little neighbourhood had become a crystallized world captured in time.  The devastation that Mother Nature had imposed on us was evident in the sagging tree branches and fallen limbs that lay on every corner.  But the beauty that Mother Nature left was also very evident.  Under the late afternoon sun, walking along ice covered sidewalks, I felt as thought my world sparkled and dazzled like diamonds.  The beauty and devastation of one event left me in awe.  Take a look at what my world looked like...

 

 

 

  

Christmas Day was soon upon us but my excitement for the day was met with aching joints, painful bones, fever and an overall lack of energy.  Being the eternal optimist, I thought that two Advil and a blanket would make me feel better soon.  Well, I spent the next 5 days in bed, feeling absolutely awful.  With not much to do, I spent my days sleeping and thinking and pondering.  Funny how certain truths pop into your mind when a fever is running rampant within your body. 

So what did I discover about myself? About life?

Well, I figured out that despite all my life's lessons over the past few years, I was still making the same mistakes, only this time they were disguised with what I thought was my new found logic.  Life is about balance and keeping that balance is an integral part of maintaining your sanity.  Balance is about not accepting anything less than what you know you deserve.  And here I was making excuses for everyone around me and feeling off kilter for some time.  So what to do?  Make changes, no matter how heart breaking, gut wrenching and painful they will be.  Change is what propels us forward and keeps us managing that constant state of equilibrium our souls need.

Being sick and having a horrible cough also provided me with the opportunity to continue to sit back and watch.  I don't think we do that often enough because if we did we would see all the little nuances life offers.  Sitting on the side lines on NYE, I caught glimpses of things that I would normally miss and this was just with my own family...what else was I missing as I ploughed through my days?  I saw the love, the unconditional love between two people as they spoke at the dinner table - it was in his eyes for her and her eyes for him - a silent knowing between the two of them.  I saw how strong one woman was and how her laughter made everyone smile, even when times were bad.  It was her outlook on life, her abilitiy to continue to laugh and encourage throughout her pain that shone at the table that night.  I saw the sadness in another's eyes of a life he wanted to change but felt the hope he carried in his heart.  I watched my grandmother, who is suffering from alzhiemer's, try to make sense of all the confusion around her but saw a glimmer of hope when she looked at my children and called them over to her. 

This past week was not what I expected.  It was supposed to be filled with chaos and excitement and all the craziness of this time of year.  And it wasn't that at all. 

This week was the perfect end to a full year, a year that brought with it much joy and and many tears.  This week gave me time to reflect, truly reflect and I am ready to start my love affair with 2014, with a full heart, clear mind and open eyes! 


TALK TO ME!! What is going to make your year ahead the best year ever?  What did you learn in 2013 that you will apply in 2014?

The Elf n' Mrs. Claus - A Love Story

Ever wonder what happens after good ol' St. Nick kisses his missus and heads out for a trip around the world?

Personally, I think it kinda sucks that Mrs. C gets left alone on the one night of the year everyone else in the world gets to spend with family.  She's a damn good woman in my book, being so understanding after all these years!  But what if she found something or someone to fill the emptiness?  What if she let her hair down and threw caution to the wind...

I took some creative license and have a little story for you to ponder...and please note, this is not to offend anyone.

The last box was place in the sleigh as the first snowflake of the night fell.  It was time.  The journey would last almost 24 hours and it was a welcome break from the busy year behind them and the one that lay ahead of them.  But these 24 hours were difficult for her.  Christmas Eve was the culmination of all their hard work throughout the year.  She could do anything she wanted, anything she desired, but all she wanted was to fill the void that was left in his absence.  All she wanted was to spend a joyous night with him to celebrate what they had accomplished during the year.  When that sleigh floated back, the whole process would begin all over again.

She sent him off with a kiss and a wave.  He winked with a smile and a hearty, HO HO HO. Little did he know. 

In a flash, he was gone. She pulled off her cap, undid her hair that was so tightly wound up and let it flow down her back. Time was ticking and she didn't want to waste a single moment.  She knew where he'd be waiting for her. Same place as last year. The same place as always.  

The room was dark but she could make out the faint outline of his elfin cap and shoes. His name was Elliot and they had been lovers since the beginning of time. That first year was difficult, newly married to a man that the rest of the world relied on. She understood the magnitude of the importance of his job but she had needs too. Not able to contain her sorrow, her heartfelt tears flowed endlessly. That is, until Elliot sat with her.  

He listened to her, really listened.  There was no list he had to keep checking or toy truck that needed approving.  His attention was hers and it filled her up.  They spoke for hours that first night, sharing stories no one else knew, laughing at the antics of the other inhabitants of the North Pole and crying about the life they marvelled at and were burdened with at the same time. But for that, they had each other, and after spending almost the entire night talking, they realized that. Looking into each other's eyes, the loneliness that filled them before slowly dissipated and they gently kissed. It was sweet and innocent and natural. One kiss that led to a wonderful night of togetherness. One night that they had been re-living every year. 

Tonight was no different. It had been a year since they felt each other's companionship, a year that they had to think, to dream, to fantasize about being with each other again. Rushing over to him, she wrapped her arms around him and kissed him. They knew that this would never amount to anything more than exactly what it was.  Mrs. C., despite her sadness, loved her husband.  Elliot gave her the one thing that Santa couldn't on this eve. He filled a void that she felt so profoundly. 

Elliot was a tender lover. Looking deep into her blue eyes, he saw and felt her loneliness. Through the year, Santa and the Mrs. were a formidable team. They worked side by side to ensure that every boy and girl around the world would have a merry Christmas. Where Santa got frustrated, she showed patience. When a new name appeared on that naughty list and Santa huffed, she told him to have faith. She truly was the woman behind the man, keeping him balanced and happy. It pained Elliot to see her that first Christmas Eve all alone, crying. He admired her strength so much and to see her like this was absolutely heart wrenching.

Their kisses were hopeful and warm, ones that filled the emptiness. They helped Mrs. C. forget about the solitude of where they lived and her loneliness tonight. Elliot always took care to never cross that line and fall in love. As he helped her out of her velvet, red gown, the stars twinkled above. Santa was making his way across the world, bringing joy to mankind and Elliot was here, bringing joy to her.

He lightly kissed her neck and the heat from his breath made her gasp. She loved the dampness it left on her skin. The cold, arctic air on that damp skin only intensified this electric feeling. Elliot undressed her with such gentleness, as though unwrapping a porcelain figurine. He took his time with this, ensuring that every gesture left her feeling appreciated and desired.  It was about her, all about her. It always left him breathless when that last piece of clothing came off. Her inner beauty shone through her with such intensity that when fully exposed, naked to the world, one could only stare in awe. She was magnificent.

Elliot continued to kiss her naked skin, finally finding her lips. Their naked bodies pressed up against one another, the rhythm of their hearts beating completely in sync.  Theirs was a perfectly choreographed dance that they had practiced for years.  Elliot could feel her breath become quicker and her body slowly tighten.  In a quiet, tearful gasp, Mrs. C cried out, "Nick!"

It was always Nick, where her heart belonged.  In her mind, Elliot was Nick and Elliot knew this.  He had always known. The 24 hours was nearly up.  Nick would be home shortly from his voyage around the world and everything would be back to normal.  But for one moment, Elliot could hold her and make the emptiness vanish.  Holding her in his arms, he kissed the top of her head and slid out from beside her.

She would never cross that line but he had crossed it long ago. 

~The End~



Merry Christmas everyone and see you in the New Year!!

Married Twice...Proposed to? Never! Part DEUX

Fast forward a couple of years...

Needless to say marriage number 1 failed miserably.  And yes, the proposal should have been a tell tale sign.  I distinctly remember saying that to my best friend and yet, I fell into the same predicament with the second proposal.   

I met husband number 2 while doing some temp work one summer.  Teaching only took up 10 months of the year and I hated staying home during the summer months.  Usually, I volunteered to do one month of summer school but that year the school I taught at was renovating, so this wasn't an option.  I asked around for some occasional work and found some clerical work at a reputable company.

The work was easy and it kept me busy two to three days a week.  It was here where I met "him".  He did some contract work for the company and would drop into the office at least once a week. It was his sense of humour and sarcastic wit that I found charming.  He made me laugh and I hadn't laughed in a long time.  One afternoon, he asked me out and I said, sure.

Now, I should have known from that first night out that it wouldn't work.  The lack of effort he put into this first date was astonishing.  He showed up 45 minutes late, in sneakers, sweat socks, wrinkled jeans (that looked like they had been forgotten in the dryer for weeks) and a sweat shirt.  Yes!  A sweat shirt!!  Who wears one OUT on a date?  I was being critical, I knew it, so I decided to take a deep breath and turn a blind eye to the catastrophe that was in front of me. 

And a blind eye it was!  Somewhere during our meal, I thought to myself, I could go out with him again. He had me laughing...a lot.  And so, the courtship began and within a couple of years, a wedding was being planned.  How did it happen, you ask?  

Well, I'm gonna tell you...

One Saturday morning, "he" can home after a motorcycle ride.  I asked how it was.  He said fine, he went to drop something off at my parents.  

Then he proceeded to tell me that the topic of destination weddings came up.  "Why?"  I asked.  "Someone is getting married on an island," he replied.  

In my mind, I was trying to figure out who my parents knew that would be getting married on an island?  All their friends were already happily married.

"So," he continued, "I asked your parents what they thought if we got married abroad."

"Really?"  I was surprised.  "What did they say?"

"Your mom is fine with it but your dad says he'd rather we did it here," he informed me.

"Good to keep in mind," I replied.  That was the end of the discussion.

However....

Over the course of the next month, things like, we need to book a venue, what about an officiant, how about getting married in your parents garden, came up.  We had begun to plan a wedding without him ever really asking me to marry him.

I mentioned this to him. 

His reply to me was short and curt. "It'll happen when it happens!  I haven't got the ring yet!" I told him the ring didn't matter. "Don't ask me when, it will happen, don't nag!" was his reply.

What the...?!?  Talk about putting the horse before the cart!  Pretty presumptuous of him to think I would have said yes.  And nagging?!?  He really didn't know me at all! I couldn't have cared less about a ring.  I wanted the words...

And so, 24 hours before our pending nuptials, this is what happened...

'Twas the night before our wedding and all through the house, 
Plans were being made by my future spouse.
When over a bowl of my mamma's spaghetti,
He pulled out a box and asked if I was ready.  
With food in my mouth and lead in my heart
This proposal was too lame to leave a spark
All the plans were complete, the wedding's tomorrow
I had to say yes and hide all my sorrow
Guests were arriving, the gifts were all bought
This second proposal didn't go like I thought
Not sure how this happened, my story of woe
Two husbands, two marriages and proposals that BLOW!


Talk to me!  I want to know about your proposals beginning to end?  I am still a hopeless romantic and maybe, just maybe, my girl Noelle has it right with her "eternal engagement"...there is something so absolutely perfect about that phrase -- makes my heart swell with love!! 

Dear Santa...

The holiday season is upon us now.  Trees are colourfully decorated, lights shine bright, mistletoe is strategically placed and gifts are tucked away in closets and under beds, hiding from curious eyes.

All letters have been written and sent to that jolly, old man, with the white beard, who resides at the top of the world, in a toy factory.  Every year countless children, eager to make their letter just right, compile a list of things they want and a multitude of reasons why their little souls deserve them.  They place these letters in the post with hope and a dream in their hearts.  Christmas morning arrives and tiny feet charge down stairs and across hallways, to forage under the pines for their treasures. 

So it got me thinking...why not write my own letter?  Couldn't hurt and it would be a way of paying homage to the innocence of my youth and belief in this fabricated man who dons a bright red suit.


Dear Santa,
So what gives?  I've been a good girl all my life and never really wanted anything special.  Yet there are countless letters you have filed away under my name that go unanswered.

There is a lot to be thankful for and not much that I want.  I have two wonderful children whose never ending questions fill my ears and use up a lot of my bandwidth.  I have a wonderful family who keeps me youthful by insisting that I am still a child. And my closest friends have kept me laughing 'til my cheeks hurt or I almost pee my pants.

I have left you homemade cookies and milk every year.  When I ran out of milk two years ago, I upped the ante and left you a nice glass of Bailey's, a tradition that continues to this day.  You must have enjoyed it because unlike the half glass of milk you always left, the shot glass was licked dry.  Hell, I even left food for your reindeer!

Well, this year I have taken another approach.  You won't find me on that damn "nice" list.  I should be right at the top of that naughty list and I am proud of it!!  You see, this year, I put my needs and wants first.  Did things that I wouldn't normally have done.  I stepped out of the box, pushed the envelope and created a new me.  This year was the year of Audrey and I came out soaring!  Yes, it has been one hell of a year and next year will exceed all expectations.  

BUT in light of the Christmas spirit, I still have a list.  A simple list.  One that I am hoping you will be able to help with.

1. Mornings are troublesome.  Two tired kids that seem to think that they have to wake up fighting.   I need tape.
2. Bath time...mine, with no one trying to barge in, no knocks at the door, no interruptions.  I need a good lock.
3. Sitting in front of a computer all day leaves me with stiff shoulders and neck.  I need a good pair of hands
4. Bedtime is just as troublesome.  Maybe some more tape.
5. And lastly, I want my life to continue to be filled with love, joy, happiness and lots of hugs and kisses for all...with or without the mistletoe!
6. (and if you are really feeling generous, a sexy drink of something tall, dark and dreamy would keep my nights warm and make my little heart skip a beat too!)

Sincerely,
A girl with a hope and a dream...

Here's a photo of the keeper of all my secrets, in her favourite spot during the holidays...

Married Twice...Proposed to? Never! Part 1

Depending upon how you view this, I have had either the luck or misfortune of being married twice. 

This was not part of my life's vision. I fully expected to be happily married for many, many, many years, following in the footsteps of my parents and maternal grandparents, who made being married look so flawlessly simple.  But, hey, life doesn't always unfold the way we expect.

I met my first husband in my last year of university. He won my heart by taking my hand and kissing it, telling me he thought I needed that. That was all it took, an innocent gesture that I thought showcased his true self.

The courting ritual was pretty standard; meals out, a movie here and there, the occassional flowers sent, a gift for this or that, meeting friends and being introduced to family. Normal stuff.

He was a bit of a rebel and his sense of adventure drew me in. It was exciting and titilating! A couple of years older than me, he had his own place that he shared with two female roommates (think Jack Tripper a la Three's Company) and worked full time. Very different from the university boys I had been dating. Things were going well and he began to talk about travelling the world. I was TOTALLY on board with this! So, off we went to Australia!

I thought he was my prince charming! Whisking me off to a foreign place, half way around the world!  I won't go into details of how blind I was to the reality of our relationship (saving that for another day and another post) but I did move in with him.

As a young girl, I can remember dreaming about the day the man of my dreams would propose.  In my mind, there were rose petals scattered along a path in the park next to where I lived.  Candles would light up a spot under a beautiful weeping willow, where the man in front of me would be down on bended knee, proclaiming how I was his world and professing his undying love for me.  There would be tears in his eyes as he takes out a little blue box and says, "Audrey...you complete me.  I can't imagine my life without you, will you marry me?" 

I remember that day like it happened only yesterday but there were no rose petals, no billowing trees, no vanilla scented candles, no man on bended knee with a little box and no "I love you more that the sun, the moon and the universe".

Wanna know what I got? Well, I'm gonna tell you...

It was early evening and we were sitting on our futon, eating noodles from the local Thai place.  We had just gone for a roller blade in the park (yes, so close to my dream but yet so far away!) and were famished.  As we stuffed our faces, he looked over to me and said, so matter of factly, "I guess the next step would be marriage, right?" 

Looking up from my plate of noodles, I replied, "I suppose", wondering why he would ask such a random question, out of the blue.

Taking another bite of his dinner, he continued, "Ok, how does March work?"

"For what?" I asked, completely confused.

"To get married. This way you can take March Break off?"

"Sounds ok," I muttered, completely horrified and disappointed that I had just experienced and witnessed the most pathetic marriage proposal of all time.  That is, until husband number two...

Yesterday...Today...Tomorrow

I have spent the last few days thinking about what to write.

It has been an emotional week for me.  A girl I knew very well in high school passed away.  Taken suddenly, unfairly and so sadly.  She was in her prime -  her life ahead of her, a family who loves her and two small children who need her. 

My heart absolutely breaks for her family.  I cannot imagine the void.

This horrible news made me start thinking about my own mortality.  People always say that you need to live your life to the fullest everyday because you never know what tomorrow brings.  How do we do this when we get bogged down with the everyday minutiae that clouds all the possibilities?  How do we realize all our potential, all our dreams and all our hopes?

We never think that tomorrow will be our last day.  We never think that we should be enjoying today and forgetting about yesterday. 

Perhaps instead of planning our life, we should look at this differently and prepare for our death?  Maybe assuming that there won't be a tomorrow will give us permission to truly and fully enjoy today? 

If we know that our time is limited and we all have an unknown expiration date, will that force us to make walking through this life more interesting? 

A lot of questions and I just don't know the answers. 

But I am going to try to figure them out.