The Good Life

I'm embarrassed.  I'm beyond embarrassed; I'm ashamed and astonished.  I can't believe that I ever thought, even for a split second that my life is not a good life.

I had an amazing career, and friends who became family in Red Deer.  I was living more than comfortably in a condo overlooking the river, with a new vehicle parked underground.  With all of that and still no fairytale feeling, I uprooted my world with the notion that rainbows and unicorns awaited just south on the QE2.  I accepted a job in Calgary.

Only 3 months later, I made the decision to remove myself from what felt like an abusive relationship; I quit my job. 

Luckily, I had a friend in the service industry who hired me on as a bartender immediately, and in the blink of an eye I found myself working 10 hour shifts pouring beer and mixing drinks.  Frequently I would arrive home past 3am with aching arches, sore shoulders, and exhausted eyes.  I'd often sit in my car for a few minutes just delaying the climb of stairs to my apartment.  And in those moments I would think...

Here I am.  In this sketchy little lot, where my vehicle barley fits.  About to enter my million-year-old apartment building with the lingering smell of Indian food and weed.  I have to let my dog outside after likely wiping up puddles off the floor.  Then I need to scrounge for food in my empty cupboards, and try to fall asleep minutes after because in less than twelve hours I will be back behind the taps.  And my whole...body...hurts.

Where were the smiles and sunshine?  What happened to making fat paycheques and fabulous friends?  Had I traded in my 5 dollar bill and been short-changed in nickels and dimes?

So you're thinking this is where my story ends, right?  I'm ashamed that I left my wonderful world in Red Deer, and now have a crap life in Calgary?  Hang on....

Today I learned of not one, but two tragedies that have recently devistated some old friends of mine.  A mother of six lies in a coma after losing oxygen to her brain for forty minutes, with her husband left holding their six week old girl and praying for a miracle.  Meanwhile, one of my best childhood friends has to face the fact that her four year old son has been diagnosed with a neurodegenerative disorder, and seems to be progressing (getting worse) each day.

My heart cries for these families, and the millions of others who I don't even know.

I...am an asshole.  I am embarrassed that it took the learnings of other's misfortune to give me perspective.  I am ashamed that I ever thought less of what I have.  I am astonished at my own ignorance.

My life, is a GOOD life.

My family is alive and well.  I have a job that pays my bills, and a place to call home.  If it were the middle of October maybe I would go into detail listing all of the things I am thankful for.  But it is not Thanksgiving, it is December 10th and I am not just thankful...I am aware.

I will be excited to go to work tomorrow to see friends and meet new people, I will re-arrange my furniture to play fetch with my dog indoors at 3am, and I will pull up the blinds in the morning even if I go back to bed after.  

Fairytales don't exist, unicorns don't either, and you will never find happiness if you keep chasing rainbows.  But if you can simply open your eyes by opening your heart, you will see what is real...

and recognize what is good.

Break Me Off A Piece of that Kit-kat Bar - 2012 NHL Lockout

I have a friend who works for Canada Post.  He was actually my postman when I lived in Red Deer.  How cute.  I don't think he looooooves his job.  His knees are already wearing down at the age of 24, and I have literally heard dogs growling and barking when I've called him while he's on rout.  Of course with being a postman, the most interesting thing that has happened so far for my friend was a strike.  They refuse to work until the union figures their shit out and in the meantime the guy who was making a modest living struggles to make his rent.  We don't seem to pay too much attention these days when Canada Post goes on strike, but seriously how am I going to get my mail!!!?

It's September 2012.  The NFL season has started, and normally we'd be gearing up for hockey as well, but we're not.  The boys aren't heading down to camp, they're still negotiating or for most...still golfing. This is what we call a "lockout"?  The term sounds a little harsh if you ask me.  I guess I see it as an extended vacation, but then I'm reminded of the old Kit-kat campaign ("-But how do you know you're taking a break if you weren't doing anything?" - "'Cause I'm having a Kit-kat").

Why does this whole ordeal seem so ridiculous to the average Joe?  Because he isn't rich.  The average Joe doesn't care whether all the money goes to the players or to the owners, because he is lucky to gross $75,000 annually.  Joe works Monday to Friday at a job he hates, hoping to not see an e-mail from his boss over the weekend.  Average Joe just longs for his 2 weeks vacation, which will probably be wasted visiting in-laws because he can't afford a real trip.  Maybe the average Joe works for Canada Post...and maybe, he just wants to watch hockey.

And these hockey guys are fighting over a pay cut from say 2 million down to 1.5 million?  An absurd amount of money to do something that they love for 6 or 7 months of the year, and a number with enough zeros behind it to allow them a pretty lavish off-season.  I don't think any of those guys are hurting too bad from this extended vacation (lockout).  Even a 4th liner like Paul Bissonnette recently tweeted the reply, "Well how about in your next life you dedicate it to something that pays more..." only days after tweeting, "Jager race on the golf course".  Yeah, he sure is hurting.  Probably deserves an extended summer anyway for how hard he works and how many minutes he plays during the hockey season.

Here's what's really alarming...

You know what else happened this month?  The anniversary of 9/11.  Anyone know the average salary of a firefighter?  What's the longevity of their career?  Is there a risk of their whole career ending due to one accident?  Hey @BizNasty2point0, what if one of those guys dedicated their next life to something that pays more?

And all this fuss over the NHL?  Play hockey, don't play hockey.  Be rich or don't be rich.  Take an extended vacation from 'doing what you love' until you can figure it out.  Have a damn Kit-kat while you're at it, but GIVE ME A BREAK!

I'm more concerned about receiving my mail on time.

Fake Fanatics

Bobby Orr is the best hockey player of all time.  I know this because my dad says so.

I am a girl.  What I know and care about in regards to hockey, comes from how I was raised.  My dad is a REAL hockey man.  He isn't interested in memorizing stats, and he couldn't care less about placing bets.  He doesn't prance around wearing his favourite team's jersey on game days, nor does he declare his love for the game with an obnoxious mini flag stuck in the window of his truck.  But that man, actually knows hockey.  He played it...he loves it.

Tonight marked the beginning of the 2012 NHL Playoffs.  As I was preparing to cook supper, I turned the T.V. on and clicked to a hockey game.  Philly at Pittsburgh.  Sure, Sidney Crosby is cute, but I mostly just like to have a game on in the background while I do other things around the house because it reminds me of my dad.  My roommate had a man friend over for some kind of visit, and as he does have quite good manners he decided to strike up some small talk.

Dude: "Did your team make it this year?"

Me: "I don't have a team."

Dude: "Well, who do you cheer for."

Me: "I don't really cheer for anyone.  I just watch, or listen."

Dude: "I know Sydney Crosby."

Me: "I know Jesus Christ."

OK, so I didn't really say that last line, but I wanted to.  I'm confident that my statement would have had more truth to it than his.

The point isn't to tear into the poor boy mentioned above.  He is kind and innocent, and surely couldn't have been super comfortable around me.  Bless his little heart.  He simply reminded me of all the fake fanatics out there.  Please, give it up.

Offender #1: The Stats Reporter.

This is the guy who knows every number of goals, assists, games played, ect. from every player in the history of the game.  It doesn't stop there either.  He knows the injuries, the trades, and the tabloid headlines and rattles on about it all to anyone with a pulse.  Don't put it past him to know the names of player's pets.  This guy is essentially a stalker and a creep and in no way whatsoever is he a functioning part of society.  He has never played hockey, and wouldn't know how to tie a pair of skates if his life depended on it.  Unless it is specifically in your job description to know all of this crap...it is not OK.

Offender #2: The Vid Kid

He has blood shot eyes and it's likely a combo of weed and AE Sports NHL 2012.  This guy may or may not have blisters on his thumbs from mashing buttons, and definitely has a weird ring around his head from his live-gaming head set.  That hair will also be greasy, because he chooses video games over general hygiene.  To sum it up, if he talks the talk, but the only playing he does is done while sitting on one of those oddly shaped rocking chair things...he is an offender.

And finally, the most frustrating fake fanatic of all...

Offender #3: The Chick with a Stick

We all know of one.  May god have mercy on your soul if you have to deal with more than one.  This girl "Totally loves the shit out of hockey".  She claims her 'happy place' is watching the game with beer and pizza, wearing sweats and no make-up.  You will notice her nodding her head and agreeing in all conversations about hockey.  She doesn't know shit.  The reality is, this chick cares just as much about hockey as the rest of us...minimally.  She simply wants guys to think she is super cool so they will marry her, at which point she will likely give up the facade and go back to chick flicks and Arbor Mist.

Here is the truth: I take an interest in hockey because it gives me and my dad something to talk about that my mom and sister can't.  I turn a hockey game on, because I like the background noise.  I PVR Oil Change because I was once told that there was a millisecond glimps of my friend near the end.  I will go to a hockey game if the tickets are free, but I won't wear a jersey because...I'm not a fanatic.  Plus, those things don't do a damn thing for my figure.

*To my male colleagues: PLEASE take me off your mailing list for "Playoff Picks".  I'd honestly much rather receive those e-mails from Russia explaining how to collect my inheritance.