Thursday, 8 December 2016

SooSee.....the Elf on a Shelf

December 2012

"Babe, you HAVE to see this!"  my girlfriend said as she handed me her laptop at a recent playdate.

On her computer, were hundreds of pictures of a tiny little red elf all over her screen.  This little elf was posed in various positions and locations all over someone's home. 

"What is this?"  I asked,  "Who is this little guy?".

"Oh my God.  It's the newest rage. It's "Elf on a Shelf".  You can buy it anywhere. And then you hide it in different locations all over the house for your kids to find the next morning! I just ordered it online!  Can't wait for it to come!  My kids will love it!" 

I looked back at the screen.  This elf was hilarious!  The parents had him hang-gliding in one photo, flirting with Barbies in a corvette in another photo and having a marshmallow fight with a teddy bear in another photo.  On one hand, this looked like a lot of work for me.  But on the other hand, this looked incredibly fun.

A few days later, that same girlfriend came over after the kids had gone to bed and she surprised me with our very own Elf on a Shelf. 

When she left, I unwrapped the package and pulled out our little Elf.  She was the cutest thing ever.  A little girl! I threw the box in the recycling bin and chucked the book that the Elf came with into the office.   I'm sure the book wasn't pertinent to the Elf's story.  I'd read it some other time.

I gently placed the Elf on the fireplace mantle and smiled.  Lola will just freak out!  This elf was just the sweetest thing.

The next morning, Lola came down the stairs and immediately noticed our newest family member.  She slowly walked up to the mantle and looked up.

"What iz this?"  she asked (in her little toddler voice).  

She stared at the elf....very curious and confused.

"It's an ELF ON A SHELF!!!"  I yelled (I couldn't contain my excitement!)

My daughter continued to stare at it.

"Why iz it here??"  she seemed mesmerized, but still leary.

"Welllll........"  a sly smile appeared on my face.....I was so excited to share this moment with her..... "She came from the NORTH POLE!"

"Whatttt??? Why???" Lola asked. 

This wasn't going how I thought it would  This was supposed to be a beautiful Christmas moment and Lola was sort of being a downer :/

And I didn't realize she'd ask so many questions?  Why was she asking so many questions!?   I sort of assumed she'd fall in love with the elf immediately like I did......over that glass of wine last night.

I quickly thought of a reason as to why the elf was suddenly with us.

"Ummmm......Santa sent her to us!"  and before Lola could ask any more questions I quickly added, "You have to name her!"

Lola kept a safe distance from the elf and quietly whispered, "Soooo.....Seeee" 

"Suzie???"  I asked.


"SooSee?? Um, ok? If that's the name you want, then we will name her SooSee! Anyway, isn't she cute?"  I went right up to the little Elf and looked at her cute little face. 

"Why iz she here?"  Lola asked.

Ugh.  This kid is persistent.

I wasn't really sure why SooSee was here.  I sort of wish I read that book now.  Maybe it had some direction on what to say to the kids about this elf...?  Probably not though.

Again, I quickly thought up something on the spot.

"To ummmmm.......make sure you're OK!" 

"Soooo, what does she do??" Lola asked looking sideways at the elf.

"Ummm....." (ugh....I don't f'ing know what she does!?) "She......walks around at night and checks on you!"

Lola's eyes grew as big as saucers.  


I don't think this is right.

"She ....walks??  On ...her legs????"  Lola looked terrified.

Crap.  This isn't right.

"Ummmm.....yeah."  I desperately tried to sound confident.  But I was pretty sure I was messing this all up.

"She walks around the house???  at night?????"  Lola asked petrified.

Oh dear.

"Ummmmm......yyyyyuppp."  I answered ever so slowly.

Oh man.

"Does she come into my room????"  Lola asked while still looking sideways at the elf.

Ok.....I'll totally redeem myself now!!  

"YES!!  YES SHE DOES! She'll come up to your room at night and pull up your covers and make sure you're ok while you're sleeping."

There!!  I'm a good mom again.  

Phew!  Dodged THAT bullet.

But Lola's eyes were still massive.  And now her mouth was open, and her brows were completely furrowed.  

Oh dear.....

Lola looked at me furiously and pointed to the elf and yelled, "Mommy!!  You tell THAT ELF that my covers are FINE and she can stay down here!"

For the love of God what did I do???

"Ummmmm.....ok sweetie.  Yeah....don't worry about it! Let's go brush our teeth."

Desperate to find out what I did wrong, I quickly put Lola to bed and ran back downstairs to read the book (which I found buried under bills in the office).

I sipped my glass of red wine and read the entire book - cover to cover only to realize that I got the story COMPLETELY wrong!!  

The elf is supposed to FLY back to the North Pole every night and give Santa an update on whether Lola was a good girl or not.  

NO walking around the house.  NO pulling covers up. And NO checking up on Lola in the middle of the night.


Well....Lola's just a kid.  I'm sure she'll forget about this whole fiasco by tomorrow night.


The next night, at bedtime,  Lola did not run ahead of me up the stairs.

If fact, she hung back, hanging onto my leopard print bathrobe.

And she did not yell,  "ME FIRST MOMMY!!  ME FIRST!!!".  

"Sweetie???  Are you ok???" I asked concerned.

"Um. yeah." she quietly answered.

"So why aren't you trying to beat me up the stairs like you always do?"

"Because Mommy.  You need to go first.  That THING might be up there!!"

Tuesday, 29 November 2016

Mary, Mary quite contrary.

As many of you know, I have worked in a couple of medical clinics over the past 2 years.  At my position, I come into contact with literally hundreds of people every single day.  

Some are good, some are bad, and some are,  well, very interesting.

The good are the people who are sweet and kind and very complimentary.... "Oh sweetie, thank you so much for your help!  You are a great asset to this clinic!"

The bad are the people who pick fights with me because I couldn't squeeze them in to see the doctor the same day.  Just last week I had a "go-nowhere" fight with an old man who yelled at me because I told him that the doctor was at a conference and he wouldn't get his narcotics on the same day.  This is how the end of our fight went.  Enjoy! 

Me:  "Stop being rude to me!"
Him:  "YOU stop being RUDE to ME!!"
Me:  "I'm not being rude. You're not listening to me!"
Him:  "Well YOU'RE not listening to ME!"

This fight went on and on for hours.  

Just kidding!  Only about 30 seconds.  But it felt like hours :/

But luckily I work for doctors who support me when I stand up for myself when patients get a little too aggressive.  In fact, during this ridiculous fiasco one of the older doctors whispered to the nurse "Good for her!  Not letting anyone boss her around!".   Afterall, no one likes a bully.

But even though these mean patients are super annoying and rude, they are few and far in between.  And luckily they do not consume my work week.

The patients that I live for are the "interesting" ones. The people who are so unique and so different that you can't help but get drawn into their strange and curious lives.

Let me introduce you to my favourite 3 :) 


I met Clare at the first clinic I worked at and I immediately knew that she was different.  Actually, I didn't even have to meet her in order to figure out that she was special.

The first time we spoke was over the phone when she called in to book an appointment.  But I was soon taken aback when Clare started crying and praying to God and telling me that there were "some BAD people in this world.....but God sees all!....and HE will have the final say".

I sat quietly and listened.  I didn't want to interrupt, but I also knew that this sort of lecture might go on for awhile.  It took me 15 minutes to finally book her appointment and get her off the phone.

A week later, Clare showed up for her appointment.  She looked slightly older than I expected, a little disheveled and holding a travel mug filled with water.  

She thanked me over and over for getting her this appointment, and then went into her shpiel of God and the end of days.  I smiled and again listened patiently as she went on and on.

But then things changed when she pointed to her travel mug and said "Leo, it's all about this".  

I looked at her travel mug and said "Water??"

"No darling... PEACE!"  she said assertively.

I looked at the travel mug again and saw tiny little peace signs all over it.  Why had I not noticed those before??

"Yes Clare!  Absolutely!  PEACE!" 

And suddenly our relationship had changed.

It was at that moment that I realized that there was more to Clare then her random ramblings.  For all she wanted was to spread her word of love and peace.

Over the next year, Clare and I sort of became of buddies.  And every time she came to the clinic I sat with her in the waiting room and listened to her as she spoke of the universe and happiness and God.

At one of her appointments, she came in holding not a water jug, but instead, a large, fake, felt flower with a happy face.  It made me laugh out loud.  Typical Clare, I thought, always trying to share her wisdom.  Unfortunately I didn't have time to sit with her and chat that day, so she sat in the waiting room alone, amongst the other patients, and talked to herself.  I became slightly upset when I saw that people were looking at her and whispering and making fun of her.   She wasn't bothering anyone after all.

When I brought her into one of the clinic rooms for her appointment, she thanked me over and over for everything I had done for her.  

And I said, "Clare, it's my pleasure.  I think you're just fabulous".  And I meant it.

She looked up at me from her chair, and in the weakest voice she said, "Really?  Because people think I'm crazy."

I sighed and said,  "Clare.....people probably think I'm crazy too.  Don't worry about what anyone says, you've got an incredible soul"  and I gave her a huge hug and walked away.

That was my last day at that clinic, and the last time I ever saw Clare.


I met Mary this year.  She is a tall woman, even taller than me, and looks like she walked right out of an 80's music video.  So already I liked her!  She wears aviator glasses, a black motorcycle jacket and her long-black curly hair is styled in a mullet. 

The first time I met her I was slightly over-whelmed by her demeanour.  

She seemed very tough, and spoke in a deep voice and constantly gave snippets of her relationship with her ex-husband, saying that "things got bad" and that "someone MAY have thrown a chair on the other person's back".  I sat there listening with my jaw dropped and my eyes as wide as saucers.  

Who was this woman??  I thought to myself.  And who would DARE pick a fight with her??? And where was she when that old man was yelling at me???

I thought that she must have been the toughest woman in the entire universe.  

Well.... until, she hung around us a bit more.  And then her tough demeanour would slowly subside, and her eyebrows would fall like a puppy-dogs, and she would quietly ask, "You guys like me right??  And I'm not bugging you?"

And again, I truthfully answered, "No Mary, you're definitely not bugging us.  And we really like you."

She smiled and sat down in the waiting room.  And then went back to staring suspiciously at everyone who walked in the door.

And I just prayed that the annoying old man would walk in and try to pick a fight with me RIGHT NOW....


On my first week of the job, my co-worker asked me, "Have you met Danny yet?".

"Ummm, maybe?  I don't know?"  I answered unsure of myself.

"Oh, you'll know!" she said.

A few weeks later, a woman walked into our clinic.  Well, actually, it was a man, dressed in high-heels, a platinum wig and a fur coat.  She introduced herself to me as Danielle, but in looking up her file, I realized that her name was.......I mean, his name was actually Danny.   

"Thank you Danielle", I smiled and handed her health card back to her.  She smiled back and grabbed the health card with the most incredible manicure I had ever seen.  

I gasped!  

"I LOVE your nails!" I squealed as I grabbed her hand and inspected each different colour on each separate finger.  She giggled and presented them formally to me on the counter.

From then on, Danielle and I shared a special bond, over our love of nail polish,  and each time she came into the clinic, she ran over to me first, clicking in her high heels and showed off her newest colours.

I admired Danielle.  

To be living in a small town, where almost everyone wore camoflauge jackets and baseball hats and jeans, here was this incredible person going totally against the norm and breaking all the rules and staying true to herself.  

That took a hell of a lot of courage.  And I think she knew that I admired her for that.

I noticed that if Danielle was not showing off her manicure with me, she was usually sitting quietly in a corner waiting for her appointment.  And she often looked very sad.  And I could only imagine what challenges this person was facing on a daily basis just going out in public.

One day, while waiting for her appointment, Danielle got out of her seat and walked over to me.  She waited until I was off the phone and until she had my full, undivided attention.  When I hung up the receiver and looked up at her, she leaned over and in the most sympathetic, quiet voice she said, "One day I hope to look as beautiful as you".

I was totally taken off guard.  And I immediately felt such a surge of emotion rush through me, and I didn't quite know what to say.  After all, I was incredibly flattered, but this comment meant way more to me than if any joe-blow on the street complimented me.

So I said what I knew to be true,  "You are WAY more beautiful than me Danielle.  And one day I hope to be as strong as you."

She placed her manicured hand on top of mine and smiled, with tears filling up in her eyes.  She went back to her seat and didn't say a word.


Sometimes I get so frustrated with life and all of it's challenges, and I can't imagine that things could possibly get any more difficult and that anyone has it any worse than me.

And then I meet these incredible people, who remind me that everyone has got their own crap going on.....and we're all just trying to make it through each and everyday.  

Sometimes people are dealing with their own demons, or trying to make a relationship work, or trying to figure out who they are.

But in essence, we are all the same.

And at the end of the day, everyone is just looking for reassurance, happiness......and love :) 

Monday, 21 November 2016

The plant.

One day, Mama did something horrible.  Something unspeakable.  Something a mother should NEVER do to her daughter.

It's almost hard for me to talk about.

But I think I have to.  

I think it's healthy for me to get this off my chest and share my story with the world.

Ok.  Here goes.


I'll give you a moment to gasp.

You ok?

As good as you can be I guess after hearing such horrific news.

A few months ago, Mama pranced up my front steps, looking fabulous as always.  Her blonde hair in a perfect Marilyn Monroe coif, her nails matching her purse (which that day were both red, but the day before were both pink).   And her shoes were perfectly polished as they clicked up the concrete stairs.

She presented the giant plant to me (which was the size of a small tree) with her jewellery-covered hands.  She then made her way towards an empty pot at my front door.

"Look at dis GORGEOUS palm.  Can you belief it??  Izn't it soo bu-tiful??"

Without even looking at me, she began moving the pot into a different location and squeezing the giant tree into the planter.

"Ummm. Yeah Ma.  It's nice."

"Dis vas da last one.  Can you belief it??  Izn't it spectacular??  Now go inside and get some water for it".

I looked at the plant and rolled my eyes.  It just swayed with the breeze without a care in the world.    

I felt like the plant was the mean girl at school and my mom had just forced us to play.  

And now I had to go get her a snack  >:( 


A couple weeks after the first "incident", Mama came over with another plant.

And just recently, a potted flower had somehow made it into my home.

So now, I have three plants in my home.  


Don't get me wrong, the plants are beautiful, and it was very sweet of Mama to present me with said gifts.  

But that's not how I look at them.

For me, it's just three more LIVING THINGS that I need to take care of.  Like I don't have enough responsibility???

So in addition, to my 2 beautiful daughters, my extremely handsome jack russel terrier, and myself (the Queen Bee of the home), now I have to look after plants.  PLANTS!!

And as you all know, I'm a hoarder.  (And if you don't know that, then you need to go back and refresh your memory by reading all of my past blogs.  I won't even get mad at you right now for being behind on my posts because I'm too angry at the rainforest that is slowly taking over my home).

Anyway, back to being a hoarder.  

So BECAUSE I am a hoarder, it is VERY hard for me to get rid of anything.  So when friends recently gave me advice over my "green" situation, recommending that I just throw them out, I OBVIOUSLY gasped.

"Throw something out?? Who throws anything out??  What if you need that plant in the future?  You know, for when the zombie apocolypse comes and all of nature is wiped out and MY 3 plants are the ONLY source of oxygen for my entire neighbourhood??  Who're ya gonna come running to then?  Huh??  Who???"

Anywayssss........I may have digressed there slightly. And I'm not quite sure how zombies will wipe out nature?    Sooooo..... I apologize.  

These plants have really riled me up.

But the amount of extra work they have given me is completely ridiculous!

Every week I have to stop EVERYTHING I'm doing in order to take care of these living jungles.  And for some reason (just to make my life more difficult I think) they are all in pots that leak, so I have to pour minute amounts of water into them and wait quietly and patiently as the first batch of water gets fully absorbed by the soil so that I don't have water-spill-over onto my gorgeous hard-wood floors.  And let's all hope that the soil is not too dry and then the water doesn't get absorbed at all and just pours over the sides..... because that's a whole OTHER fiasco.  Don't even get me started on THAT!

Anyway, so every week I have to water them.  

But that's not all.

I've know, through the rumour mill (the greenhouses), that it's good to talk to your plants.  So even though I'm SUPER MAD at these so-called "oxygen-providers", I still give them tons of love through calm and peaceful comments.

"Hello plant.  You are very beautiful.  You have the .....(eye-roll) shiniest leaves I have ever seen.  And .......(pause to think for a moment) your flowers are about to bloom.....and...(sigh) that will make you even more attractive.  I hope you live.....(gulp)....forever.  The end"

I do this for all 3 plants.  Every week.  

I may even caress their leaves tenderly.  If the mood strikes me.  But most of the time I tell them I have a headache and need to go lay down.

Anyway.   So I think I'm done complaining.  

I'm sorry if I was super negative today.

But I really feel like my story needed to be shared.  

For all you Grandmas out there, don't buy your daughters potted flowers, or plants, or small trees.  You're just setting them up for a lifetime of stress and unnecessary work.

Just buy them what they really want.

A bottle of wine, a one-hour massage and a box of chocolates.

Thank you for listening.

Thursday, 10 November 2016

Do you know where you ARE???

Continued from last entry....

After I finished screaming, I looked around at the clinic.  Everyone was staring in silence at me.  

I looked at Tracey wide-eyed and in utter disbelief.  She just shook her head slowly and whispered "I'm so sorry honey".  

"How can this be happening Trace??" I muttered sadly.  "I'm the biggest Guns N Roses fan in the whole world! How did I not get tickets??  Why is the universe punishing me like this??  I'll never believe in the universe again.  NEVER!!"

"Maybe one of your friends will surprise you with a ticket??"  she asked hopefully.

I threw my head on my key board and whimpered quietly.  

"Probably not.  This is so not fair" I whined.

"What's wrong shweetheart?"  

Oh brother....the 90-year old was back.  


Later that night, I texted my cousin Victoria.

ME:  I didn't get any tix :( :( :(
VICTORIA:  Oh no!  That sux.  I only got 2.  I'm taking my mom.  It's her birthday the day of the concert.

I didn't text back.  I was too depressed.  I threw my head into the couch pillow when I heard another text come through.....  

VICTORIA:  WAIT! Why don't you come with ME??  I won't take my Mama.  You love Guns N Roses WAY more than her anyway.  lol



I knew the universe wouldn't let me down!!  I never had a single doubt!!

Again I jumped up and did my Borat dance of joy.

But then I quickly stopped.  The concert was 2 months away, so I had to start conserving my energy.  

No need to exercise unnecessarily.  That's what I always say!


The day of the concert was like my wedding day.  I had begun prepping at 8am.  

My hair was freshly bleached (a la 1980's), my nails were painted hot red and my flashy gold jewellery was all laid out.

Next came the clothes.

I first pulled out the tightest pants I owned.  Black jeans with a hint of shimmer to make them look like leather pants but without the drama of trying to tear off sticky, sweaty leather at the end of the night (like Ross in that episode of Friends).  The pants were glorious.  I had no clue how I was going to squeeze into them, but I'd be damned if I didn't.   An amazing thing about Guns N Roses concerts is that tight black pants were not only desired, they were practically an expectation.

Next came the shoes.  Black, suede high-heeled booties.  Ugh...just perfect.

And finally the "piéce de résistance".  The shirt.  I opened up a tupperware container in my closet that kept my special know....the ones that only come out for the most important occasions.

I giggled when I saw it.  

The Use Your Illusion Guns N Roses t-shirt that Mama bought me for Christmas when I was only 12 years old, circa 19......well, the year is not really THAT important.

Anyways.  What a beauty!  I'll never forget the day I saw this masterpiece for the first time. It was on that day, that I vowed to be committed to Axl and the band for the rest of my life.  

I placed the shirt delicately above my shiny, tight pants and smiled.  No one would have this shirt at the concert.  No one.

Last but not least.  The makeup.  

Another amazing thing about going to a Guns N Roses concert.  You can wear oodles and oodles of makeup and not only totally fit-in, but the more you wear, the more compliments you get.  It's literally my dream come true.

When I was all ready, I put the last touches on the outfit.  Mirrored aviator sunglasses and a long-fringe black purse.

I took one last look in the mirror at the front door before I walked out,  and applied my third coat of ruby red lipstick.  

Because when is 2 ever enough?? ;)


As Victoria and I stood in line outside of the Air Canada Centre, I looked around at everyone standing beside me.  I had the biggest, dumbest smile on my face.  When someone looked directly at me, we nodded at one know, to acknowledge how cool we were.

"Wooooaaaahhhhhh.....awesome shirt!"

A very drunk guy in probably his late 20's pointed to my t-shirt.

"Where'd you get that???"  he slurred.

"This, my friend,"  I pointed to my worn out top  "is VINTAGE",  I proudly announced.

"What do you mean??  It was like, your Dad's or something??"

I turned and giggled to Victoria as I realized he must've assumed I was much younger than I actually was.  


"Ladies. Straight through here".  My thoughts of youth and beauty were interrupted by a security guard who guided us through the main doors.  

We were finally at the gates.  Ahhh....I could smell the rock and roll already.  I was surrounded by big hair, black leather, and GNR attire.  I was home!  

As Victoria presented the tickets on her phone to a lady with a scanner,  all I could think of was how I could not wait to grab a beer, get to my seat and prepare for what was going to be one of the greatest thoughts were suddenly interrupted by a horrific sound.  I looked up to see a giant red X on the ticket scanner.

I quickly looked at Victoria, who tipped her phone down and back up again to reveal the ticket.  Again the lady scanned the phone.  

I gasped as it again revealed another giant red X on the screen.

"What does this mean??" Victoria asked the lady holding the scanner.

"It means your ticket wasn't purchased" said the ticket lady.

My jaw dropped and my brows furrowed.  How DARE this woman get between me and my band!  Who the hell did she think she was???

"I BOUGHT THESE TICKETS!!"  Victoria said assertively "LOOK!  I have the paper copies right here!!"  Victoria pulled out a crumpled set of Ticketmaster tickets (a la 1985) from her purse.  "SEE!!??"

"Sorry sweetie,"  she said (not sorry at all)  "You'll have to go to customer service to figure this out.  Customer Service is at gate 9."

Victoria and I looked at each other in sheer panic.  Without saying a word, Victoria (in her 4-inch high leather boots) bolted.

"Where are you going??"  I yelled. "Why are you running??"

"CUSTOMER SERVICE!  C'MON!!!"  Victoria was already at gate 6 and I was still standing dumb-founded at gate 5.

"C'MON!!!!"  she yelled again.

Oh for the love of God. 

I couldn't believe this was happening.  I was stranded there alone, at a Guns N Roses concert, without any tickets.  And now I had to exercise. This was literally my worst nightmare come to life.

"BUT......I NEED TO STRETCH FIRST!!!"  I screamed at Victoria.  But her long hair and high boots were just a glimmer as she turned the corner at gate 7.


I made it to customer service just in time to see new tickets printing off the machine.  

Victoria excitedly announced "We got them!!"  She looked at me and then grimmaced.  "What took you so long?  Are you ok??"  

I threw my arm on the counter gasping for breath.  "Yeah (huff puff), why??"

"Ok. Good.  LET'S GO!!!"  She grabbed the tickets and started running back to our gate.

I yelled after her  "Victoria!  Jesus Christ!  Slow down!  You do cross-fit!!  And TV!"


We were finally in the stadium.  

I won't even get into the fact that Victoria somehow charmed a line-up of like 20 men and budded in front of all of them to get our beers in a record 35 seconds, but that did happen.  

With beers in hand, we shimmied down the aisle and made it to our seats just in time for the lights to go out and for the base of the first song, to come blaring on the speakers.  And within seconds my glorious Axl was belting out lyrics that I have been obsessed with since I was a rock-loving, mullet-haired Polish kid growing up in the suburbs.

The band was better than ever, cooler than ever and did not cease to impress me for one second.

At one point Axl, during the pause in November Rain, stopped to take a sip of his drink (probably a camomile tea) and then kept the audience in suspense, screaming, as he sipped away.  

I looked around at the fans standing next to us and said "Why is he SO cool??  Isn't he like, SO COOL?? Like, THE COOLEST!"  

Victoria laughed as I stared adoringly at my idol.

Axl, Slash and the rest of the band played for over an hour and and half and I sang every single word to every single song they performed.  I don't wanna brag but at one point I heard a fan say to his buddy "That chick knows every single word!!"  No one had any clue that they were in the presence of the biggest GNR fan of all time.

And even though I was extremely exhausted from the strenuous exercise that Victoria forced me to partake in earlier, I refused to sit down even once.  

Cause you can't sit at a rock concert.  I'm sorry, but you just can't.


When the concert was over, we slowly made our way out of the stadium.  

The sound of the music still hummed in my ears even though Axl had stopped singing long before.

I suddenly became very sad, when the realization kicked in that I didn't know when I would see Guns N Roses ever again.

Listening to their music is one thing, but seeing them live, and feeling the emotion of being in the same room with them was a whole other thing.

I felt like I was breaking up with someone.  And that is the worst feeling ever.  I wanted to keep seeing them so badly.....

This band had gotten me through every single tough time in my entire life, and I was already missing them so much.

"Maybe they'll tour again??"  I asked Victoria hopefully as we walked through the stadium doors to the outside.

"Probably not" she said.

I sighed.  

I walked away from that incredible experience.  Hoping and praying that one day our paths would cross again.

But in the meantime, I would not, for a second, stop thinking about the man, the band and the music who brought me so much joy and happiness over the years.

And to Victoria, my fabulous cousin who took me to the concert instead of her mom (which I'm pretty sure means she loves me way more than her) .....I love you so much cuz!  You're the coolest xoxo

As we quietly walked down the street trying to hail a cab, I was still sad.  

I looked forward to going home and being alone with my thoughts.

"Wanna go clubbing?"  Victoria asked.

"Absolutely", I answered.

I'll be alone with my thoughts tomorrow.



Friday, 4 November 2016


It was a quiet spring evening.  

I sat at my desk (couch), reading the latest news reports (Facebook updates), drinking a camomile tea (red wine), in my tight Lululemon clothes (baggy Stitches army-printed track pants).

When all of a sudden, my Facebook account started dinging out of control with updates.  I thought to myself....what could all of this racket be about??  

I clicked on the link that had my name in caps followed by what looked like a million exclamation points.  The following article immediately popped up.....



I placed my camomile tea delicately on the table (chugged my red wine in one gulp and threw the glass at the fireplace).  I jumped up and started screaming and doing the Borat dance of joy. 

My dreams had finally come true!! My favorite band in the whole world (and also the BEST band to have ever been created) was back baby!

And NOTHING..... I mean NOTHING was going to stop me from seeing them!

2 months later

I texted my very hip younger cousin as the big day was fast approaching.

ME:  Victoria - you're buying tix tomorrow right? (I used the term "tix" instead of tickets to show that I was equally as hip as her)

VICTORIA:  YESSSS!!!  Don't forget to be ready to order right at 10am! 

ME:  Totes ma goats!!  (She will be so impressed with my new-age lingo).

I put the phone down and went straight to bed.  Sure it was only 8:30pm, but I was going to need at least 10 hours of sleep in order to successfully pull this off.  

Nothing was going to stop me from seeing this band.  Nothing!

The next day I gathered my medical centre co-workers in a circle.  I put my hands in prayer position and placed them under my nose and took a deep breath.

"Ladies.  As you all know, Guns N' Roses is coming to Toronto this summer.  I know...I're all very excited.  But I need us all to stay focused ok?  Tickets go on sale in approximatellllyyyyyyy.........(I leaned back in my chair to glance at my iPhone) .......15 mins.  So I'll need everyone to work together in order to allow ME to purchase tickets on Ticketmaster in a timeline fashion.  Does anyone have any questions?"

I looked around at each of the staff who in turn looked at each other, and then walked away.

Hmmm.  I guess they just don't want to be distracted at this very crucial time.  Totally understandable. goats.

The time was quickly approaching.


I took my last big chug of coffee.  Mmmm.  Excellent.  I am revved up!  I wish I went pee, but no time for that now.





10:00!!   HERE WE GO!!!

As I frantically clicked on the Guns N Roses venue announcement, a lady came to the window and handed me her health card.  

"Helloooo dear.  How are you today?" she said in her 90-year old voice.

I whispered under my breath as I stared at the screen "how many of these pictures contain rivers? what??  this is sooo stupid!!  whyyy??  why do I need to count rivers?  what do rivers have to do with Guns N Roses???"

"What's that sweetheart??" she said in her raspy, old voice.

"Oh? What? Nothing, nothing!  Here's your card back!"  I tried not to throw it because she was so cute and old but I did not have time for her cuteness and her oldness. There was no time for health when my life was in REAL jeopardy!!

Each time I answered the stupid question about rivers, I sat patiently as ticketmaster searched for seats.  My right foot shook a million miles a minute as I bit my left thumbnail.

"How's it going babe?"  my coworker Tracey asked.


My eyes were drying out from not having blinked in what seemed like 3 hours.  I was so tired.  And so thirsty.  I wish I had some water.  And now I had to pee.

What a horribly lengthy ordeal.  This was the WORST!!  

I suddenly realized what a wuss I was being.

Leo!  Keep it together.  You are in this for the long haul!  

I glanced at my phone.  


Oh my God.  

I would not survive this.

I began mumbling to myself again as I read Ticketmaster's latest ploy to delay my purchase... "What is it asking me now?  Type the code??  What code?  Oh Jesus.  8Fc93x.  Dammit!  8Fc93s."

No tickets matching your criteria found.

So I changed my stupid criteria.

No tickets matching your criteria found.

So again I changed my criteria.

No tickets matching your criteria found.


I heard my coworkers whispering to each other behind my back.  But I'm almost certain that they were sending positive messages to the universe on my behalf.

As 10:15am hit, I clicked on FIND TICKETS one last time.  

This was it.  

I could feel it.

The universe would NOT let me down.  

Nothing was going to stop me from going to see this band.  




Stay tuned for part 2.

It's official: The Guns N' Roses reunion is hitting the road. After months of just scheduling gigs at Coachella, Las Vegas and Mexico City, Axl Rose, Slash, Duff McKagan and the rest of the band's current iteration of ( but not Izzy Stradlin ) have…