It was an incredibly busy weekend for me and I felt like a complete busy body having not sat still for most of it – and consuming way more chocolate and coffee than I wanted or required. But I’m finally just sacked out on my couch getting some work done and thinking about Christmas. Yep. I’m already there.
I went out fairly early this morning in search of a birthday present and stores were already in full holiday mode with big crowds and long lines. Too much for me, I will admit, on a sunny November morning – the day just after Remembrance Day. But, here I am with another Christmas movie playing in the background while I’m working and whittling away.
I always have loved the hustle and bustle of Christmas and the holidays… I usually love the crowds and the displays and the noise (okay, maybe not so much the noise) and running into a dozen people you know.
Via The New Yorker
And I’m there. For the most part anyway. But today is just too sunny for me (and maybe I’m just too tired from the hustle and bustle of the long weekend) to be venturing out to get some Christmas shopping done. I was in and out of stores like a flash today. I’ll have to save my energy for this coming weekend because I KNOW the hustle is coming up and fast.
It’s May 7 and it’s about 19 degrees. I don’t know if this weather is early or if it’s late. That’s the thing about living in Nova Scotia, our weather is never consistent. Regardless, it’s gorgeous. The sun is shining high and warming me all the way to my soul. These are the days I long for. The days when nostalgia takes over and I relive memories each time the wind sweeps my hair; I’m thrown back to days gone by. High school and college and days with my friends at beaches or soccer fields. Or days just spent driving around, longing for summer. Today is one of those days.
I should be at work but I had a medical appointment and took my lunch at the end of the day so I could come home instead of making my way back to the office, and I’m sitting on my deck, feet up, blazing sun beating down on me, flip flops just lingering on my toes. Oh how I love this. I am thrilled that Old Man Winter has finally departed us and Spring has sprung.
I am not one of those people who fare well being cooped up. I am too social to be a couch potato. I get my strength from my friends and being active and socializing. I always have. Mine is the way of the butterfly.
But who I am can vary depending on who I’m with. I can be a dancer or a comedian or a wine connoisseur or fitness coach (well, technically, I am). I’m a therapist and brawler and a bawler. And a baller.
You know how I always celebrate Birthday Week? I have multiple gatherings with multiple friends and multiple groups. This has been going on since I was little-ish. And mostly because a lot of my friends didn’t always like each other. This carried out through high school, and then when I hit college, many of my friends didn’t know each other, and the tradition has continued on for the same reasons. Some of my friends don’t like each other. But also, some of my friends don’t like some of the activities I do. The shopper doesn’t necessarily want to go dancing. And the running buddy may not want to sip wine. I wear many hats and I love my adventures, but not everyone is as resilient as I am.
I have a great group of friends who, at a moment’s notice, are able to ditch their lives and are up for whatever our days or night bring us, planned or unplanned. But I also have a friend or two that need a completely choreographed itinerary detailing our outing and who will be there. And I have friends who I like to keep to myself and who are reserved for end-of-week wine-and-dine and gabbing about how complete bullshit our work weeks have been. And I also have those friends who are up for any adventure I throw at them – Wanna drive to Quebec for a concert? Let’s go? Wanna come to a Fitness class with me at 6am? You got it! Wanna drive to the US for the weekend and go shopping? What time do we leave? Wanna do Mud Hero? Where do I sign up?
These are the many types of friends I have and the adventures we’ve had. These are my soul sisters. These are the girls that bring out my multiple personalities. I don’t have to chase their friendships, because they’re right there. Ready, waiting, willing.
Who came up with the 5 day work week? Seriously. A two day weekend is garbage. It’s not nearly enough time to relax, catch up on sleep, get chores and housework completed and errands completed, and have fun.
I love my days off. I love the weekend. Monday mornings I’m already starting the countdown to Friday. My weeks are long and busy and tiring. I am up and out the door by 5am every day to hit the gym, I work 8.5-9 hours, followed by teaching fitness classes or person training clients every night. By the end of the day, I am zonked. And by the end of the week I am wiped out and ready to settle and relax. Of course, that never happens. My weekends are jammed-packed! I want to do everything. I want to have all the experiences and adventures as I can stuff into two days and a Friday night.
This past Friday night, I had back-to-back clients at the gym after work. I couldn’t wait to get home. I had to grab some groceries before getting home to make dinner. I was supposed to have a drink with a girlfriend, but I was just too tired and the weather was crap. I booked ‘er in for the evening with the Husband.
Saturdays are an entirely different monster – a celebration all on its own.
Saturday mornings are their own beings. As usual, I’m up before the sun, becoming one with my cup of coffee. I’ll often have a class at 9, then Husband I are run errands and do some cleaning. This weekend, we were supposed to have a weekend away, but plans changed because the forecast was rain, rain, rain. When we got up, the sun was shining and the skies were clear. Instead, Husband and I spent the afternoon on a four-wheeling adventure. The sun was shining everywhere except where we went touring. We got down-poured on – completely soaked to the bone. But we had fun. The fresh air was exhausting. But the day was still young. I went dancing with my sister-in-law. It’s been a very long time since she and I did anything like that together. She always makes me giggle, and last night was no exception. And I needed the dancing. I NEEDED the dancing.
And then there’s Sundays. Ah Sundays. I have a love/hate relationship with them. Sundays are great because they’re an extension of Saturday, but they’re also depressing because what comes next is Monday. Monday is the loser of the week and Sunday is the rocket ship that launches that bitch into space.
But Sundays can be just as fun. Today we did some shopping then spent the remainder of the afternoon playing pool, trying to out shark the other. The sun is shining and it’s like spring is finally making an appearance (after a month of non-stop rain), and it’s been a really great day. It’s been a great weekend.
Tomorrow begins another week, and another countdown starts in just a few hours. But next weekend is promising to be just and filled to the brim as all the others with lots of plans on the horizon and adventures to be had.
Because that’s what we are….slaves to our weekends. Not just our jobs. We are slaves to the days off. We are working forward always; moving through the week, counting down to Friday afternoons and the thereafter. Everybody’s working for the weekend!
In another episode of Sandy in the City, I spent the start of the week down in the City again working in another office. I mostly enjoy my time there, sometimes not. But for the most part, my days go by quickly, and my evenings are busy. Fortunately, I am who I am and have made a ton of new friends there and have kept myself occupied at night with dinners or drinks. And this week was no exception.
Tuesday night, a few of my new colleagues and I headed out to dinner after a long day. My new friends Morgan and Joe and I made our way to a lovely little hole in the wall in the heart of the City, where we dined under warm lights and were surrounded by gorgeous artwork.
We spent a few hours talking, getting to know each other, sipping drinks, laughing, and telling stories. I never really noticed before, but these two were hanging onto every word I said, lapping up my insane storytelling, and feeding my ego when they laughed at my jokes. None of us wanted the night to end, but mornings come early and eventually we had to go our separate ways.
But, I’d had two glasses or red wine that night. I never have two glasses of red wine. I barely ever have two glasses of white wine. But red hits me differently. My cheeks get flushed and I get hot. I drowse as my speech becomes faster and faster. Yet, I hadn’t noticed any of that happening until I got back to the hotel when I realized I was probably a wee bit tipsy. And the next morning I woke up (bright and early to hit the hotel gym) with a pounding headache and a fuzzy tongue. Yerp…I had a tiny hangover.
I trudged through my workout, had a hot shower, and chomped up breakfast. And coffee. Lots of coffee. Once I made it to work, Joe kept coming to check on me, knowing I would be heading home that afternoon. Morgan and I were working side-by-side and gabbed all day, by Joe is in a different department so he continuously popped by to chat.
Yesterday, back on home ground, I was walking with my coworker and telling her about my adventures and the conversations I’d had with Joe – that he’d divulged how much he enjoyed the company and the conversation and the new friendship. I said I found it a little strange that someone I barely knew had attached himself to me in the way that Joe had, but that I had a great evening with both him and Morgan, and that it’s not the first time I’d gone out with these new coworkers; people I’ve only known since December, and have spent days with on only a little more than a handful of occasions. But she said this didn’t surprise her at all. “Sandy”, she said, “You are kind and funny and happy, and beam light and personality. You have an amazing aura that people can see and it draws them to you. Honestly,” she said “People are drawn to you.”
I can’t tell you how that made me feel. I mean, what an incredible compliment.
I don’t know if I will be seeing Joe and Morgan and the rest of my newbies anytime soon, but we keep in touch and the plan is to get together next weekend at a club, whether that happens or not is yet to be seen. But, in the meantime, I’m going to let those words from my friend swim thru my mind a few more times. I wonder if people really can see my aura. I thought that was only for hippies and drug-induced nights in the 70s. But if they can, I will continue to try to beam the light that she sees.
When I was little, my parents were good friends with another couple, Red and Kitty. Red and Kitty had kids the same age as my brother and me. We loved spending time with Eric and Donna (if you get these name references, you’re awesome, btw!), but they lived far away, or at least what seems far away when you’re little. Probably an hour/hour and a halfish. But when you are a small child, that distance might as well be across the planet.
Regardless, we were always excited to have visits. We took trips to hotels together. We played games and Barbie dolls together. We had a blast. But then, our visits just stopped and, although I’ve though about Eric and Donna a lot over the many years, I’d never really questioned it what happened. Not until this past October.
Husband and I were out with my parents and it dawned on me to ask …. whatever happened to……..? And, it turns out, Red and Kitty got a divorce. That’s why we stopped having our visits.
But, me being me, I did a little recon on social media and found Donna (and Eric) and decided to revisit the past. I sent her a message, asked her if her dad was Red, and went on to explain who I was. After a few days of back and forth, she offered to get together for a hike. Turns out, she lives less than 10 minutes from me!
We got together the next day for a little hike and catch up and we’ve been getting together for the past 5 months. We’ve played tennis, gone hiking, but mostly, we will have a meet at the end of the week and vent about our jobs over drinks (and sometimes food).
In fact, we had a get together a few night ago and four hours zipped by. We gab and gab and laugh and tell stories and try to remember our childhoods together. I have a ridiculously accurate memory and the more I tell her, the more she remembers “Oh my gosh” she’ll say; “I remember that!”
The other night she told me my initial message to her, asking if her dad was Red Foreman, she thought I was about to tell her I was her long-lost sibling from a sordid affair. She said once I explained to her who I was, she went right to her mother and Kitty said “oh yes, Donna, it’s legit. This is all true. You two were the best of friends and played together all the time.” I’m glad Kitty vouched for me.
Donna says Red thinks it’s a hoot that we’re back together and hanging out. Red and my parents still talk and see each other occasionally, so I’m waiting for the conversation they have over this reunion.
But that’s who I am.
Donna and I have plans to go ice skating and winery hopping soon and I can’t wait. And it turns out we have so many friends in common. I mean, who woulda thunk?
Every meet and greet we have is an adventure of sharing new and old stories and laughing our asses off…and sipping really good wine. A new old friend, she is. Like putting on a cozy old sweater and reliving it’s warmth and comfort.
Y’know, it wasn’t that long ago that Saturday nights were made for parties, bar hopping, and dancing the night away. But since Covid has destroyed all hope of there being any place to dance, and since we’re in the midst of winter here in Nova Scotia (which limits going out even more because snow and brrrr!!), some Saturday nights are made for games…and of course wine and food.
Last weekend, Husband and I spent Saturday evening with some friends playing Cards Against Humanity (praying for redemption the following day). This night had been planned for weeks and I was so looking forward to it. Husband is definitely a homebody, and I am the social butterfly. I thrive in social settings, make friends easily, and love a good outing (there are plenty of stories to come from my Sandy in the City times the past few months). But, I was able to coax Husband out for the night and we had a blast. Honestly, I haven’t laughed that hard and that long for a while.
We girls of the group had made the arrangements, shared some of our appetizer ideas in a group chat on social media, and sprung up a cutsie little menu. Nothing huge or outrageously elegant, just some delectable little goodies we’d been wanting to try (having a party is a great excuse to try new foods). We laid out a little buffet, had some bottles of wine, and enjoyed our little festivities. The time flew by as we belly laughed and stuffed our faces with h’or deuvres fresh from our kitchens.
Eventually, the night was over and we broke off or gathering. But I can honestly say that that little gathering of last Saturday night soothed my soul. I’ve needed that kinda night for a while. And although I’m longing to go dancing with my friends, some Saturday nights are made for games and laughing with your favorite friends.
Have you seen this show? Oh damn! If you want a comedy and heartache and a misfitish lead and an offbeat group of friends, then you should see this show.
Season two is right around the corner and I’ve just re-watched season one. It’s so good.
Our leading lady, Nell, returns to her old workplace in California, after leaving 5 years ago to follow her fiance to England. Now that she’s single, our journalist girl is back home and assigned to Obituaries at the paper. And……she sees dead people.
The storyline is fresh, and the characters are fun. Each episode tugs at the heart strings a bit, and some of them are like a punch in the gut (honestly, wait ’til you meet Jesse).
And there are lots of little cameos (Rhea Pearlman, Martin Mull, Brittany Snow, Eg Begley Jr.). But the humor and the love – and Nell’s t-shirts are solid gold.
I am back in the City, yet again. And, of course, this morning I woke up to a snow storm, that eventually turned into a heavy rain and wind storm. (I’m talking torrential downpours, insane waves, and winds so strong it slapped you in the face. But I made it to and from work. However, I was soaked by the time I’d reached my hotel.
I sat in the living room of my suite and contemplated what to do tonight. I could go for dinner, I could take in a movie, I could order in, or I could just eat the stock in the fridge. I opted for what was behind door number 7(?)….I went down to the hotel social. It’s something I have seen and read about over and over during my multitude of staycations the last month. So I did it.
The hotel dining room had a beautiful, complimentary spread of chef’s favorites: charcuteries, soups and salads, fine meats and cheeses, margherita kebobs, decadent desserts, fruits and berries, and you name it. It was lovely.
I sat at my table and indulged in a few unique foods, so delicious my taste buds were thanking me. I tried not to scroll my phone, so that I could be completely present in the moment. And I’m so happy I set the phone aside because I made friends with the chef. We chatted for a second, as I complimented him on one of his dishes. He asked me where I’m from and it turns out, he had spent many years living and working in my town. I invited him to sit with me, and he did.
We had a wonderful conversation for nearly an hour. And he told me his powerful story….a refugee from Jamaica, he came to Canada long ago to make more money to support his family. His mother, a chef and restaurateur, his father a baker, Paul grew up in kitchens and food and cooking have always been his passion.
However, the job he worked in Canada, as an agricultural worker, was not the dream, but it was support for his family. His suffered abuse by his employers, and eventually he left the community. He eventually landed here in the City, then went back to Jamaica where he opened his own restaurant. However, he says Covid hit hard there and his restaurant failed during the pandemic.
Paul took that failure as a sign to come back to Canada and try again here. He worked odd jobs at first, but now he’s the head chef at this hotel and he is so grateful and proud.
He told me, “I’m real. People treat me like I’m human now.” I told him that that makes me happy and sad at the same time. I’m happy that he has found success and that he is so proud of it, but I said “You’ve always been human and no one should have ever treated you otherwise.”
I made a friend tonight. But I’m taking value out of that conversation. And you should too.
It’s been a chilly weekend here in Nova Scotia, and as I sit here, this Sunday evening, we await an incoming storm. Or maybe not. We’re not quite sure; that’s Nova Scotia weather for you. But, it’s been cold the last few nights. And last night was, by far, the prickliest of them all.
Husband went to a hockey game and, although it would have been nice to stay home, snuggled up in the warmth of my hot tub or a blanket and my cat, I needed to get out. Actually, I was out the night before. I wanted to get out. An escape with a friend, nestled with a bottle of wine and some good girl talk.
Early yesterday morning I made plans with a new old friend (and I promise, that story is coming soon enough!) to meet around 7pm for drinks. I had a busy day that included a visit to an emergency clinic, and a guitar lesson, and a visit with some friends/family. And my evening out was the cherry on top.
We met at little restaurant, where I requested to sit “wherever it’s the warmest”. I was led to a table, tucked away in the mid-back of the dining room, cozied up right next to a fireplace. Ahhhh…it was perfect. As I waited for my girlfriend to arrive, I perused the drink menu – wine or sangria? WINE OR SANGRIA??? Of course I went with the wine (first). We sipped our glasses, caught up since our last date, almost a month ago, nibbled a bit, and enjoyed the atmosphere. This is not Emily in Paris, this is rural Novelle Ecosse on a cold winter’s night. But it was perfect.
With twinkling mini-lights adding to the quaint ambience, and the music playing in the background, a soundtrack to our former lives, of our teenage years. Of course, I enjoyed a glass of sangria before the night was over. It was a perfect catch-up on a brisk night in January.
It’s hard to believe that Christmas has come and past once again. It’s even harder to believe that today is the last day of, yet, another year. But I’ve just spent the last hour scrolling my phone, deleting garbage I no longer need to hang onto, and reflecting on the last 364.5 days. It’s been a crazy ride, and in a few short hours, it will be over and a new one will begin.
This morning I can look back at the year’s achievements (and there have been some significant ones), and at the losses (there have been a few of those, as well). I have had some crazy adventures, as I normally do, and I have grown just a tad. I have made realizations of people that I perhaps hadn’t seen before. And I have made new friendships, tried new things, and created memories that will live on.
As I sit here, still in the glow of my Christmas tree, stuffing my face full of crackers while I wait for Husband to wake, I’m looking forward to tonight’s end-of-year festivities with friends (because what’s New Year’s Eve without a party, right?), although I’m ready to say goodbye to 2023, saying goodbye each year still makes me a little sad. Another year over. Another year gone.
Peace Out, 2023!
But, of course, I’m eager to see what 2024 has in store. What surprises and fun and adventures will it bring? What will I bring in the next year? Because, let’s be honest, I am SandyLand…I bring my own fun. I create my own adventures. I build my own energy. Twenty-Twenty Four will be spectacular – If that’s what I want it to be.
Say goodbye to the negativity. Say adios to the people who no longer want you in their lives. Say arrivederci to lackluster days and hello to grand adventures and wonderful friendships and love and laughter.
I’m looking forward to all the opportunities to better me. To work on The Sandy Project. To continue to create a life that has minimal regrets. I’m looking forward to climbing mountains within myself.
Bring it on, 2024
Bring it all. I’m looking forward to every single second.
A is for All is calm, All is bright. As I sit here in the solitude of an early Christmas Eve morning while the rest of the house sleeps. Just me and my Christmas tree.
B is for Baby, It’s Cold Outside. It is chilly, around -3 this morning. I’m sitting here with a chill. ‘Tis the season.
C is for CHRIST our KING. Leave him in Christmas.
D is for Damn, I hate when it’s over. Christmas Night always makes me sad. The anticipation and hustle and bustle is really what gets me through the Holidays. When it’s over, it’s a little heartbreaking, isn’t it?
E is for Excitement and exhausted. I am full of both.
F is for Festive. How I have been feeling for the last month or so. It’s also for Festival, because I’ve been to about a million of them in the last month.
G is for Gingerbread candle. The scent is burning and it smells divine. And for Glitter. Because I love glitter…especially at Christmas.
H is for Hallmark. Watching movies and living the life the last month.
I is for Insomnia, because I’ve been struggling with it all week. It’s also for Iced Coffee…..the stuff that’s been keeping me going.
J is for Jesus. HE is the reason for the Season.
K is for King. For on this day a king was born unto you.
L is for (What’s) Left to Do….I’ve got a few things remaining on my List.
M is for Magic….because there’s always a little Christmas Magic happening.
N is for No Time Left. Today is it. If it’s not done, it’s not getting done.
O is for One Magic Christmas….my all-time favorite Christmas movie.
P is for Peppermint. There is something very Christmassy about peppermint. And the swirls of color make me feel festive.
Everything about this looks divine.
Q is for quaint. My Christmases are always quite quaint. Even when I was galavanting around the City these last few weeks, my December has been quite lovely.
R is for Rappie Pie, our traditional Christmas Eve feast. My grandfather was French Acadian and Rappie is my favorite food in the world. It’s usually my birthday request. We have it every single Christmas Eve.
S is for, duh, Santa. (It’s also for Shark, because Husband just put on “Jaws”)
T is for T minus how many hours before it’s Christmas!!
U is for Undressed. I went to grab meds for Husband this morning without even a bra Underneath my coat and sweater. I obviously wasn’t planning to go into the store.
V is for Victorious. How I felt when finishing wrapping and shopping.
W is for Wrapping. Thankfully, I have it all finished. All of it!! Thank goodness. Husband has some more to go. He’s on his own from here out.
X is for Xmas – a shortcut I absolutely don’t like. Don’t be lazy, respect the word.
Y is for Yule Blog. Keeping it fun and giving me something to write about.
Sandy the Social Butterfly 