Writing for Wheatgrass Dave

I'm not sure how I want this post to come out, but I'm just going to start writing anyways and see where it takes me.

Wheatgrass Dave

I'm going to start simply by saying that my very good friend "Wheatgrass Dave" passed away on Thursday night.  Wheatgrass was the guy in Vancouver, and really the only guy in all of western Canada, who grew and sold wheatgrass (hence the nickname).  Yep, any of you who have ever had a shot of wheatgrass at Jugo Juice, Capers, or any where else in the city - that was all his doing.  Every last straw of nutritional goodness you've downed, or will continue to down, has been because of him.  He started up his business probably close to 20 years ago and has been building upon it ever since.  Always the type of guy who wanted a one-on-one relationship with his customers, he spent his time between driving all over the lower mainland to personally deliver trays of wheatgrass to his clients, and the remainder of his time on growing, planting and feeding new crops of wheatgrass every single day.  Wheatgrass was his baby.  I remember when he was still growing it from home on his back patio, and finally the City of Vancouver came in and told him he had to get a proper warehouse for his business.  It was quite the switch for him moving from the convenience of working on his passion right from the comforts of his own home, and into a vacant warehouse in industrial Vancouver. But it actually turned out to be a real blessing because his business boomed and he was totally prepared for it.  Dave was a freedom-seeking, ultra-zaney Aquarian who I met through our mutual friend, Brenda, probably back in 1997 or 1998.  Our friendship grew naturally and mostly started out by sharing our love for Wreck Beach and participating in physical fitness of any form.  I remember time and time again calling him up excitedly and saying "Hey Dave, are ya going to the beach?", and he'd be respond just as exuberantly "Yeah, I'm heading down right now!  Need a lift?"  And he'd come by and pick me up in his big blue van and together we'd zoom up to the beach and then practically run down the stairs and let out a simultaneous sigh of relief as soon as our feet hit the sand.  Time with Dave was always play time, and he put everything he had into perfecting his physical being.  Super trippy, some people would initially be taken aback by Dave's intensity, but then inevitably would come to admire and respect him because he was such a warm, loving, hippy kind of dude with a super high level of intelligence that no one could deny.  Dave could actually see the energy of a turning ball or a floating disk, and he really loved analyzing it, working on his skill, and then perfecting it in a physical way.  Then he'd tell everyone about his journey, and only some of us could follow his wavelength.  Dave wasn't a big guy, but he was still a force to be reckoned with during the old days of "Beer Ball", because he was so strong and confident in his own body.  Dave was also the guy that brought paddle ball to the beach.  I've never seen another person who could play it as well as he did, not even on any of the beaches in Europe where the game is so popular.  He taught me everything I know about the game, and because of his coaching and friendship, I was one of the first female players on the beach.  Yep, we played in the nude!  It was awesome!  Heck, we even played paddle ball fully-clothed during the winter months, happily analyzing and comparing the grip of our feet on the wintery wet grass to the way our toes could sink into the sizzling summery sand.  We threw the disk, we log-hopped, we stretched, we juggled, we laughed and made up games as we went along, loving the feel of the sunshine on our clothing-free skin.  Our outlook on life was fresh, youthful, deep.  Our other friend Andrew, another Aquarian and an amazing musician, rounded off our threesome and it was almost like we were the "Three Musketeers".  I remember how the three of us acted like happy school kids whenever we were together, our conversation would float between wild and zaney to spirituality or political rebellion, then we'd break into fits of laughter from inside jokes that only the three of us could understand, causing those around us to blink and say "Uh, did I miss something?"  Keeping up with an Aquarian's conversation is a difficult task at the best of times, but keeping up with three of them??  I smile when I remember how fantastic it was to be together.  When the tide went out far we'd all run out to the sand and throw the disk around together.  Then we'd laugh and play like circus clowns all the way back to our beach blankets.  Andrew would break out his guitar and soothe us with sweet tenor voice, Dave would quench us by handing us each an an icy-cold beer, and I would nurture us by opening a bowl of summer berries and healthy snack food (always vegan for Dave!).  Then we'd philosophize long into the hot, lazy summer afternoons and howl at the setting sun.  Heck, the three of us even looked the same!  All shorter and slim in stature and with dark hair, we were definitely Elemental brothers and sister.  I have some great photos of us from back in those days, but unfortunately I can't post them because they are still in the old version 4x6 in albums somewhere in storage.  We took care of one another, we were best friends, we were family.  I remember one rainy winter night, a mutual friend called me up in need of desperate help, and I replied "Hold on, we'll be right there!"  It just went without saying that we could speak for one another.  I called Dave and together we sped over to help out our friend in need.  We went with our own flow, and with Dave it was like living in another world.  For the next three years Dave, Andrew and I were almost inseparable, and we really grew to love one another deeply. 

All things come to an end, so they say.  One day Dave and I  pushed our love too far, and had an arguement about something so friggin' stupid I won't even mention it here.  Let's just say that we were both equally stubborn, and Dave had the tendency to be almost militant in his views, assuming that everyone should do and say exactly as he did, because he was so evolved and educated.  Okay, Dave was definitely evolved and educated.  But I'm sure many of you know that I don't like being told what to do.  Neither of us were going to budge an inch on our positions.  Our argument was so heated that I think we kindof shocked ourselves and never fully recovered from it.  Our relationship started to rapidly slide downhill, then Dave moved out to Burnaby, got a steady girlfriend (Leslie, who has been with him ever since), and started to withdraw from the beach.  Andrew and I didn't see him for years, no one really did it seems.  And now we learn that Dave had been battling throat cancer for close to a year and a half!  Finally on Tuesday night he checked into the hospital, and two nights later he left his beaten up body and this planet all behind.  We heard about it on Friday and I was in shock for most of the day, not believing that our super-healthy Wheatgrass Dave could have been sick at all!  Apparently he had lost his ability to talk and to swallow, but he was adamant about not letting anyone know he was sick.  If I had known, I for sure would have been there by his side as much as possible, and I know Andrew would have too.  Well dammit, everyone would have.  Dave had a ton of friends and I'm sure they are all shaking their heads in disbelief, just like I am now.  If they are like me, they are only just starting to succumb to the shock of it all and just starting to realize that he is gone.  It took me several hours, but late Friday night it hit me like a large wave, almost like Dave was sitting right there with me and had come by to say good bye.  I heard his voice and envisioned him in my mind's eye walking across the room towards me, smiling like he used to, saying "Hey Char!!"... I held my head and then sent an S.O.S. text-message to Andrew saying "Andrew, where are ya?  I need to see you...".  Andrew texted me right back, and I then I drove over for a glass of wine and we reminisced about Dave.  I wish there was some way I could have told Dave how much he meant to me, and I wish I hadn't let one stupid argument rip us apart.  I wish I could have said good bye.

Wreck Beach

Losing him makes me realize that life is just too friggin' short.  How many days have I let dark feelings blur my vision and drain the life out of me?  I realize that any negative thought I've had or unloving actions that I have inflicted upon myself, must have taken away at least a part of my life from me.  For every joyless thought or act I have had, I have lived less. 

When I was about 21 years old I lost a really good friend, tragically, to a hiking accident.  After that I vowed to never stop myself from telling people how much I cared for and loved them, no matter what.  For years I walked around mushy-like, hugging and kissing everyone, and acknowledging their greatness.  But for over a year now I haven't been that person because I've been so wrapped up in my own pain and haven't been able to give even a fraction of a cell to anyone.  I know I'm not back at that wonderfully loving and giving place.  I have definitely been taking inventory of friends lately, redefining what I consider a good friend to be and also redefining how I do friendship myself.  I don't know when or if I'll ever be who I used to be, but for now I'm going to start trying again little by little.  Because good friends can be gone in the snap of the fingers and I would never want to miss the opportunity again of telling someone how much they mean to me.  I am healthy, and that is such a huge gift and something that we all take for granted.  Dave embraced life fully, and yet he was the one who lost his way too early.  Here I am alive and healthy and not feeling life 100%.  It's time to change that. 

I took some photos of only a couple of the things that make me feel alive:

30 Minute Hit - Women's Kickboxing Workout

Ashtanga yoga at The Practice Place - Sunday morning Full Primary Series Led class, Level 3

  
A quiet tree-lined street in mature Vancouver, where I currently call home.

Another thing that makes me feel alive is learning and speaking Spanish, something that I've hardly done at all since, of course, returning to Canada.  Yesterday I joined a Meetup group and went out for coffee with about 14 other Spanish speaking individuals, both natives and Canadians, and enjoyed a nice afternoon socializing with new people in a language that I crave to know fluently.  This afternoon I'm going to get out on my bike and enjoy a rainless day and feel the wind in my hair.  If it wasn't for Dave, I wouldn't have remembered to take advantage of the simplest of blessings: BEING ALIVE!   It's time to get back into the things that I really care about.   

Dave, if you're out there and you can hear me: I'm sorry.  And I miss you.

Charleen xo

70's Music

Whatever happened to those hunks, Player?  God, they're hot.  And hey, I like their music too!

Thanks to my sister Alara for passing me this music video.  70's pop really was the best, wasn't it?

Listen, sing (in 3 part harmony), and groove on. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Hn-enjcgV1o&a=F43e_r8VPvQ&playnext_from=ML

Charleen xo

Above and Beyond

Celebrating a long weekend can not be done fully without 1) at least one BBQ, and 2) a first class dance show (preferably of the Trance genre).  Well this weekend I was lucky enough to have both!

My very good friend Mark joined me at my house for dinner with all the accompaniments (yes, I can actually cook!), and after a couple espressos to keep us going through the evening, we took off for the Commodore Ballroom.  The Commodore is one of Vancouver's premier venues, and any concert you see there, whether it be a live band or DJ, is always awesome simply because the place is so great.  I love the suspended dance floor for lots of bouncing, and the way they have the bars strategically placed and stocked with very well-mannered and professional staff.  The Commodore Ballroom has been around since the 1920's, and I think every Vancouverite will agree that just getting an opportunity to experience the venue is half the reason to buy tickets to any event held there.  Knowing this, the entire crowd was in a great mood.  No agros last night, nope!  Just happy, chatty people who loved the music.  It's the way it should always be, don't you agree?

http://maps.google.ca/maps/place?hl=en&um=1&ie=UTF-8&q=The+Commodore+Ballroom&fb=1&gl=ca&hq=The+Commodore+Ballroom&cid=9439700696941045804

Above and Beyond were playing, and Mark and I were super excited to be seeing them.  I saw them once last year here in Vancouver and they kept it pretty mellow.  But after seeing them at Trance Energy in Holland back in April, I knew they were capable of ripping a room apart.  And last night they didn't let us down.

http://www.aboveandbeyond.nu/

  

Currently at No. 4 in the world, Above and Beyond are among the world's top trance DJ's.

My camera does not like trance music so it seems, and you can tell by the attached Youtube clips.  The music was phenomenal, but the video component in my camera (a camera that is "supposed" to be the top in its class - all the guys at Lens and Shutter each bought the same one!) does not record good base and all the fine variations of trance music.  The sound and the acoustics are amazing at the Commodore. Anyone will attest to that.  You just can't tell by the video.  hmph!  Friggin' drag!  I swear it's not my fault. 

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y0BxSEiWUXg

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4I1G0FHk0fU

Mark and I danced all night long, and Mark even stayed right till the very end, which is very uncharacteristic of him!  You die-hard, Mark!  Going out to dance to first class trance music has always been something that I'm passionate about, and I will never give it up no matter how old I get!  All day long today I felt free, happier, and excited about life!  Myself, I just don't get it when people say they're not into trance music.  If you don't get trance music, then you just don't get anything period. 

This trance-junkie is signing off for now... enjoy!
Charleen xo

Whatever It Takes

Even though I woke up this morning with the warmth and security of a man's arms around me, it still wasn't enough to stop the first vision that came to my mind, and the memory of the images that followed right after.  And I'm going to darn well write about it here even if it makes all of you feel uncomfortable.  Yes I am.

It was 4:45 a.m.  As usual his alarm went off just as I was finally starting to fall asleep.  I felt him creep out of bed and silently shut the door behind him.  I knew he was going to be heading to the gym - an early morning ritual he was adamant about keeping.  Desperately fatigued from what seemed like years of not sleeping, my weakened mind instantly started playing cruel tricks on me.  Why couldn't I ever sleep?  Why couldn't I seem to get on the same pattern as the man that I loved and shared a home with?  Why couldn't I do anything the same as him, or nearly as well as him?  What the hell was wrong with me anyways?

My stomach started to tie itself into tight knots, the way it does when my mind has a hold on me after a few nights without sleep.  It was daylight already.  I can't remember exactly, but it must've been about this same time of year, May or June.  Another obstacle against me.  A solid night's rest almost never seemed to happen when we were together.  And that morning everything felt heavy upon me.  All I wanted and needed was for the man I loved to just stay in bed with me for a change.  I only wanted him to acknowledge how desperately I was trying to find that subtle harmony together.  Why couldn't we get on the same page, the same clock, the same tempo?

I heard the front door of the apartment close, and I knew that I wouldn't be able to go back to sleep.  Something overcame me and I jumped out of bed and threw on my housecoat.  "Please don't go..." I was saying to myself.  I just wanted him to come back, I didn't want him to go to the gym and start yet another day without me.  When I walked out our front door the elevator doors were just closing, so I swiftly moved to the internal stairwell, hoping to catch him when he came out of the elevators on the parkade level.  He made it down before me, still unaware that I was following him.  Tired, so tired, and feeling like a grown-up cry baby, I watched him walk intently towards our car.  When he got to the driver's side he finally looked up and saw me standing in the parkade, pathetic, crying, disheveled, the dark circles under my eyes showing my anguish.  First the look on his face was of shock.  Then it was of realization.  I saw him mouth "aww", and watched his eyes as they acknowledged the message his brain had just sent him: "You're not going to the gym this morning man, your lady needs you...".  He threw his gym bag back onto his shoulder and walked over to me.  Wrapping his arms around me he said "Oh baby...".  He knew he didn't have to ask why I was awake, what I was doing standing in the parkade on the verge of delirium.  He could tell.  Maybe he was in sync with me?

He kept his arm around me as he walked me back to the elevator doors, up to the ground level where our home was, and through the front door of our apartment.  Exhausted and unable to talk, I let him tuck me back into bed.  Then he took off his shoes and crawled in beside me, spooning me tightly.  I remember how comforted I felt with his arms around me.  Then while the tears pooled in the corner of my eyes and dripped across the bridge of my nose, I finally drifted off to sleep for about an hour before I had to get up to go to work.  Another day trying to function without sleep.  Another day of crankiness. 

We don't even realize how these little things, these minute details, can really turn into such a big deal when we're in relationship.  It's like we think the struggle is totally normal, totally worth it.  I now can admit to myself that I needed a lot of rest in my relationship with him, while he needed relatively none.  We were just different that way.  My question then is this: In relationship, do people really do anything to work out their differences?  Or do they just ask the other person to accommodate their needs without changing at all?  As if we can ever truly ask someone to be someone or something other than who they are anyways.

There are so many layers to this onion.  Just when I think I've peeled back all I can, another layer grows in and forces me to keep on working at it.  What I learned about myself today is how hard I am on myself, and how hard I was on myself during my marriage.  And it's funny because I'm the one who is the first to say that being imperfect is absolutely perfect.  I really do feel that two people who are in love with one another and really see one another for who they are do not need to always be in sync every single moment of every single day.  God no!  So why did I put pressure on myself to be some sort of Wonder Woman?  The pressure made me feel frustrated all the time, which in turn just made me miserable.

So how much deeper does my understanding of my Self actually have to go before I hit the point where I simply turn my nose up at my own thoughts and say "WHATEVER!!"  I mean, how many friggin' layers do I have to peel back before I'm fed up with this darn process?  The practical part of me knows that it just is what it is.  But another part of me still relentlessly asks the question: "How could he just walk away so fucking easily when I worked so fucking hard?"  I really do feel like I worked harder on all our obstacles than he did.  I know he wouldn't agree, but damnit that's just how I feel!   And I'm allowed to feel it!  The truth is that most women, in loving service to their men, do work harder at things.  C'mon, admit it.  We all personally know at least one woman who has held on to try to work it out long after those of us standing on the outside think they should have done.   

Oh, to be a man!  How easy you all have it. 

So this morning with that dormant memory popping fresh into my mind like it happened only yesterday, and the mixed feelings of tenderness and bitterness that came with it, I quietly stole away from the tomcat who was sleeping beside me, threw on my gym clothes, grabbed my hand wraps and went to my gym for a kickass workout.  Letting loose my pent-up emotions, every single one of my roundhouse kicks were delivered with perfection.  My jab-crosses wholly connected with the bag, their slaps echoing across the gym and waking up the still groggy ears of the other women who had come to release as well.  Kidney shots to Bob would definitely have done some major damage if he were human, my trainer standing behind me and encouraging me to keep it up, go Hard Hard Hard!   At the end she patted my back and said "Wow, that was awesome!  You had so much anger behind those hits!"  And I replied matter of factly "Yes, I'm going through a divorce.  I'm pissed."  With that she high-fived me and said "Well way to go, sister!"

It's so great to have the support of other women behind me.  :)

So I left the gym feeling centred and strong again, and well-aware of my true feelings.  My Ashtanga yoga teacher would rather I stop going to kick-boxing altogether.  He says I wouldn't be so angry if I just did yoga only.  Well frankly, I kinda like being angry sometimes.  It feels so much better than being sad, and it gives me energy.  It helps me re-focus on my Self on the mornings when so many doubts and unanswered questions surround me and threaten to take all of my strength away from me. 

At the end of the day, everyone needs to do whatever it takes to heal.  Whatever. It. Takes.

I know I've started my day off right.  A hard workout and then an organic coffee, coupled with just enough time to write a blog post.  The sun is shining and I'm going to head out to Kate and Jeff's place for an afternoon BBQ.  Tonight I'll lay low here at home so that I can make it to that healing, calming, and ever so challenging Ashtanga yoga class tomorrow morning.  There I won't feel any anger.  I will feel my breath and my blood run through my veins, and a surge of joy will replace any anger I had.  And it will remind me that all my feelings, and however I choose to work through them, are totally good. 

C xo

Courage

Courage is defined as "a quality of spirit that enables you to face danger or pain without showing fear".  I don't know if I totally agree with that definition.  I would alter it slightly to say that one has courage even if they do show fear.  I think courage is the ability to confront your fears, to act upon them even though you know you may get burned.  It's following through even though you don't know what the end result may be.  It's going with your intuition. 

On a sunny Thursday afternoon in Calgary as I sip a Corona in a restaurant on trendy 17th Avenue and watch Calgarians pass by, I have to ask myself: Am I courageous?

Courage is a personal thing.  There isn't any one person who is qualified to point their finger at another person and proclaim them to be courageous or not courageous.  What might be easy for me to think about or do could be really difficult for someone else, and visa versa.  I definitely know what it feels like to look at fear in the face and be locked frozen in place because of it.  I can only say that this week for some reason I feel more courageous.  But maybe coming to Calgary to look for work isn't an act of courage, I don't know.  People might weigh it differently.  But this ain't about other people, now is it?

I'll be walking down the street and suddenly it hits me that I'm moving ahead without the husband I thought I'd be with for life, and in a completely different direction than I thought I would going in.  It still surprises the hell out of me and brings me to momentary tears.  I have to stop in my tracks and give my head a shake.  I have to remember that everything happens for a reason.  I shove my discouraging feelings over and continue to make room for hope.  This is something I continue to work with every single day.  That takes courage.

In Calgary: My friend Laureen and her dog Benny

Laureen is one of the most courageous women I know.

I just had a Skype call with my German friend, Ralf, who I met in Ibiza last October at the Festival d'Otono.  Ralf is an Aquarian who has a sarcastic sense of humour and who is like many Aquarians: truly detached from people and things.  He doesn't give a shit about anything, or at least that's what he says.  Maybe he's just figured out how to get by in life without caring?  Curious, I try to pull him into deeper conversation about the meaning of life, a likely conversation between two Aquarians.  He goes there only momentarily with me and then pulls back, covering himself over with a blanket of ambiguous answers and bitter laughter.  His journey is definitely different than mine.  I have always been curious about people, their reasons for existence, and the way they view this crazy world.  Understanding the mystery of a human being is just one of those things I've always loved.  Watching Ralf on the screen of my laptop, I naturally want to know how he has come to be the person he is, what makes him tick, and what's really going on inside that defiant mind of his.  He considers the human journey to be a "solo" one.  He says that in the end we are alone.  All we ever really have is ourselves anyways, so everything else is irrelevant.  And I have to say that I agree with him somewhat.  When I walk down a street in downtown Calgary, I realize that it is true: I am alone.  I am living my own life, going in my own direction without giving any reasons to anyone else for my actions.  Now that I'm here considering this I can honestly say that life must be going according to plan, everything must be perfect.

But are we really truly alone?  Maybe being alone is just a momentary feeling?  While I require lots of personal time to ponder life, I can't say that I really "want" to be alone.  If we're really honest with ourselves, doesn't everyone want to be with someone?  I believe that we are all a part of one whole, so therefore we are each a part of one another, delicately connected to every living being.  If I see something in someone that I don't like, then I have to admit that it is really a part of me that I don't like, and they are just a mirror of that likeness.  Likewise, if I see something I really do like in someone then that is also a part of me.  If we are all so interconnected, how can we really ever be alone?     

I look around this city and I look for the differences between here and Vancouver.  The streets are grey and dusty from the layers of sand and gravel throw down during the long, icy winter months.  My shoes get dirty here, the legs of my slacks need dusting off every couple of hours.  But in Vancouver my feet get soggy wet, and my pant legs get drenched if I'm not wearing a trench coat.  Two distinct differences right there.  Here in Calgary there are lots of 4x4 trucks, but gas is cheap.  In Vancouver there are lots of BMW's and gas is expensive.  Completely different.  I notice the differences in the people, their facial expressions, their body language, and their overall mentality.  Of course I'm generalizing, but it is obvious to me that people here are much friendlier.  A person watches me walk down the street toting my laptop bag behind me and warmly smiles and says "Hey, where are you going?  Is it somewhere exciting?  Can I come with?", or strikes up a random conversation as I walk in to a cafe, socially saying: "Hi there!  Say, are you a lawyer?"  I smile and joke back and forth allowing their cheerful spirits to warm my cool, Vancouver heart.  Their accents are different.  They are closer to what I think a real Canadian is supposed to be like: friendly, easy-going, non-judgmental, unpretentious, neighbourly.  It's been a positive few days.  I think for now I'm going to keep one foot here and one foot in Vancouver.  And at least here the girls who serve me coffee don't have a snippy little attitude...

(whoops.  that was a dig.  I apologize!)
(but it's true!)

I haven't yet figured out if it's an inherent need inside of me to just keep on moving, if I'm actually running away from something, or if I just don't want to settle at all.  Or, maybe it's just the thrill and the adventure of finding something new, of experiencing different things and exploring life, and finding out how I act in all the variations of it that keeps me going.  Maybe it's a little of all of it?  Either way I look at it, I feel good getting out of Vancouver.  I feel strengthened by my trip here.  I feel hopeful.  I even feel courageous.

Charleen xo

Spring Break

Today Linda and I met up at 27th and Main for an organic coffee (my new thing) at Saltspring Coffee, and then rode our bikes up to Queen Elizabeth park.  I was happy to have my bike out of storage for the first time in a year, and the weather was perfect.  The combination of Mother's Day and great weather jammed up traffic all over the city, so I was just as happy to not be fighting it out, stuck behind the wheel of a car. 

Exercise always keeps one happy both physically and emotionally.  While there is a definite sporty/casual type of lifestyle that exists among the majority of people who live in Vancouver (and all of BC for that matter), and it's truly a way of life that I enjoy and take for granted, I still can't help but notice how chilly people are towards one another.  Not like Barcelona where you walk into a cafe and everyone chats with one another, or says hello without pausing to size you up first, etc etc.  Oh no.  Vancouverites like to keep their nose either firmly placed in the air, or buried behind their laptops.  This way it makes it easier for them to just just go on pretending that no one else exists but themselves, see?  While Linda and I sipped our coffee outside in the sunshine, we watched people come and go.  We remarked how no one said even a little hello, not even gave as much as a cordial nod in anyone's direction.  Vancouverites keep their business to themselves, and they really don't care who you are or what your business is.  It's gotten so weird in this city that even wishing someone a good day gets you an icy-cold glare in return, the expression on their face reading: "Who the hell are you?  Some kind of a weirdo?!"  Vancouver has been dubbed "No Fun City", and it's not for lack of things to do.  I've stopped tipping snotty, attitudy counter-girls...

This is of course not to say that there aren't any friendly people left in this city, because there are.  But you'll be lucky to find one.

So I think I finally had enough of all of it and, pretty much last minute, I booked myself a flight to Calgary to go and check things out there this week.  My good friend Laureen has offered me a place to stay, and at the very least it'll be great to have some girl-time with a long time friend who I rarely get to see or even connect with by phone.  It's time to break it up a bit.  One thing is for sure when it comes to me: once I do make a decision I'm good to go, and I don't waste any time getting there.

C xo

Liz the Superstar

My friend Liz registered herself in the "Numbers Idol" competition, which was being held at Numbers Cabaret on Davie Street, and ran from the beginning of February straight through to the end of April.  Think of "Canadian Idol" or "American Idol", and you have basically the same thing in the West End of Vancouver.  Liz has been following her dreams of being a performing artist for some years now, and she even brought her guitar and sang an original song for us a couple of years back at my 40th birthday.  She is lead singer in her own band, has been attending open-mike sessions for years trying to gain exposure in her industry, and has been working in the studio with her band on an on-going basis.  But when I went to cheer her on for the final night of the competition, I could not believe she was the same woman!  She not only has developed and strengthened her voice significantly, but her stage presence is completely unlike it was before.  Before Liz was a bit timid and soft-spoken, but now she's a rock star bombshell just belting out the tunes!  Because of her incredible abilities, Liz made it through to the final 3.  It was a super exciting evening! 

There was a real panel of judges from the recording industry, a great MC, and a huge crowd of people who had regularly been attending the competition every Sunday and Wednesday night since the beginning.  I only caught the very final night, and it was intense!  Liz blew my mind with her money notes, and I could see how having been mentored by the judges for the past 12 weeks had given her an incredible chance to gain personal confidence on stage, and power in her already perfectly pitched voice.  The finalists had to sing three songs each that evening, and every time Liz sang I got chills and almost cried.  I was jumping up and down, clapping my hands like a school girl, and was only one of the many who were very vocal about the support for her.  She was incredible, and I was super impressed by how much she's grown as a performer.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=S9lwdAHu7o0

At stake was the prize of having three songs produced by GG Garth at the world class Nimbus School of Recording Arts, $1500 and invaluable coaching and training.  It is the big break that every artist waits for all their life! 

In the end, Liz came runner up.  But I thought she got seriously robbed!  Not that the other two finalists weren't great, because of course they were.  But Liz's voice far outrocked either of theirs, her pitch was perfect, clear, and her stage presence was real and emotional.  Most of us couldn't believe that she didn't win first! She still grabbed $1000 in prize money and invaluable lessons, and she definitely is a superstar and a winner in everyone's eyes!  Bonus for her: she also made a ton of great new friends who are all doing the same thing, and now she's collaborating on new songs with some of them.  Way to go Lizzie!  I'm super proud of ya, girlfriend!

C xoxo

Road Trips, Yoga, and Storage

Last weekend I decided at the last minute to drive up to Vernon to spend a couple of days with my twin sister, Alara, and my nephew, Jaicen.  Part of my reason for going was because I was really craving the therapeutic effects of the open road, trance music (AVB's ASOT 450 entire set from NYC), and 5 hours at 140 km/hour to let loose and get free.  But the other reason was because I just plumb old needed the nurturing energy of my wise and wonderful twin sister.  While of course my sister isn't immune to life's ups and downs, she is so smart and always has something worldly to say to me, and connects to my true issues at their very core.  She knows me like no other. We can't spend too much time together because then we start to scrap like cats and dogs, but last weekend she was on my side, completely supportive, and very inspirational to me at a time when I just needed to feel some comfort.  And of course my nephew is very free-spirited and fey, and always likes to play devil's advocate (he's a Libra) in conversation.  I think we are a lot alike.

Jaicen and Alara

Heading up to the Okanagan is always so relaxing.  It is like a completely different world from Vancouver, where the sun shines almost all the time, and temperatures soar into the 40's during the summer months.  The Okanagan is home to many world-class vineyards, wineries, thousands of orchards, and is also starting to become a great gastronomic getaway.  The beaches around Shushwap, Kalamalka and Okanagan lakes (to name only a few), and then driving further south to Penticton (Skaha Lake) and Osoyoos, make it an ideal vacation land not too far from Vancouver where you can find a ton to do in the hot sunshine all year round.   They have a couple of good ski hills too, I hear.  But that sun is all the reason needed for West Coasters to make the drive there and get away from the rain and dark clouds that always hover around us.  This past weekend in Vernon it was all flip flops and shorts, and I relaxed and breathed in the fresh air, sat on my sisters patio in the sun, drank a beer or two, and felt the sun on my face and lily white legs.  I personally think that one of the reasons I've had such a hard time fighting a depression is because Vancouver can be pretty dark and gloomy.  Of course I didn't have that moment of clarity until I finally saw the sunshine again.  Yes, Vitamin D is exactly what the doctor ordered!

Kalamalka Lake

Of course no trip to the Okanagan is complete without going into the Winners in Kelowna!  Holy!  Now that place is enough to calm even the craziest of people.  Finding a great pair of shoes in my size (5 1/2) is so healing.  Sigh...

mmm... shoes....

I always make dinner for my sister and nephew when I go to visit them, and the three of us have long, lengthy, very Air Sign types of conversations about everything under the sun.  Then my nephew will hit the hay and leave me and my sister to chat long into the night, give one another facials, and sometimes she'll even play the piano for me.  We're both huge Blue Rodeo fans, and Alara is teaching herself to play all their songs.  Bravo!

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=4VXUC8VM3q8

By the way: for anyone up in the Okanagan this weekend, my sister is putting on the Body and Soul Health and Wellness Fair in Vernon this weekend.  Didn't I tell you my sister rocks?  She did everything to organize this event including designing the website, setting up the speaker series, registering participants and renting exhibitor's booths, getting sponsors, the whole nine yards.  All this PLUS she is also going to do a lecture herself!  I'd completely barf if I had to get up and talk in front of a crowd of people  Sigh, I wanna be just like her one day.  :)

http://www.bodyandsoulwellnessfair.com/

Driving back of course it was raining cats and dogs in Vancouver.  Sigh.  I know, I know.  Rain is a good thing, right?  It keeps everything nice and green, yadda yadda yadda.  Ok, I get it.  But I definitely worship the Sun Goddess, and can't wait to get back to the Okanagan!

Oh, and I'm just going to put this out there right now to be clear: my next car is going to be a turbo...

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=PJFTnLd6oEY

Back in Vancouver this week I have been busy, and it's been kinda scary.  I had a lot of time to spend in my storage unit and took a good look at some of the monsters hiding out in there.  I was hoping not to face them, but they were there waiting for me.  It's like I open a box to find stuff I had forgotten about and totally reminded me of THAT life, and I'd get all teary-eyed and emotional standing there in storage.  While I had a couple of moments where I felt some stuff, I was definitely IN TO IT and got a lot done this past week.  Cleaning up really makes you feel like you're getting a good grip on your life, and it was something that I majorly needed to do.  Heck, I've cleaned it up so well that now anyone could easily go in there and load everything up... So that's one demon down for the count!  I was so thorough that I was also able to put together a box of items and bring it over to Yota's place.  A great opportunity to sit and have coffee with her.  I love killing two birds with one stone.

In between storage and appointments this past week, I've been hitting 30 Minute Hit and I've gone to two Ashtanga yoga classes at The Practice Place. 

http://www.thepracticeplace.ca/about-us

Ashtanga rocks!  Pure and simple.  Since I'm the class stiffy, I keep my mat way at the back of the room and try to learn from everyone else.  I don't know if I'm ever going to be able to roll over backwards on my mat and straight into vinyasa, heck I'm still trying to learn how to simply jump straight back!  But it is such an awesome practice and my instructor has a really cool mentality, and one of the most chilled, un-pretentious English accents I've ever heard.  He and his parter Theresa have the studio in their home, an artist's loft right around the corner from where I used to live last year just off Main Street.  If I'd only known then!  It's a small studio, probably only 9-12 students a class, and I totally love it.  I had been wanting to find a good studio for a long time, so I feel pretty lucky to have finally found this one.  Today I went to the Full Led Primary Series class and mostly kept up.  If you ever go, bring a towel and be prepared to sweat!

So this morning after yoga class and a kick-boxing session, I have been sitting at home writing in my blog, reading the Weekend Sun, drinking a soy-chai latte, painting my nails, and catching up with my roommate Dina.  I have to say that I am feeling pretty friggin' great!  It's been a hard week, but I feel like it gave me the space to have some clear openings about things, and some solid closure about others.  The weather is getting nicer now.  I am sleeping at night.  I definitely have felt a shift.

Later this afternoon I'm going to take a siesta.  That's right, just like they do in Spain.  And then tonight I'm going to go out with a gal I used to work with and her group of  about 30 or so friends (she warned me so I wouldn't be overwhelmed!).  I'm going to try not to get into too much trouble (wink!).  I certainly don't have a problem admitting to you that I always get suuuuper nervous going out by myself.  And then add meeting new people to the mix, and gulp!  We're going to go to Barcelona Ultra Lounge.  Yep, I'm going to do it up Spanish style tonight, and I think I might even wear something slinky with high heels like they do in Barcelona, 'cause I'm just in the right mood for something like that.  I'm optimistic that it will be a thumb's-up type of evening.

Still no word on what the next week will bring.  For now I'm just going to keep on going in this spirit and see where the ride takes me.

Anyways, I'd better get outside.  It's raining tomorrow and I want to get it while I can.

Charleen xo