All alone for Christmas

For the first time in my life, it really doesn't feel like Christmas time at all. Downtown Daegu is lined with a few Christmas trees full of twinkling lights and sparkling decorations- carols can be heard as you wander past the rows of shops- bakeries present beautiful sweet treats in the windows... but the Christmas cheer is far from home.

This year, as I celebrate Christmas a little differently in the land of the morning calm- I realize that even though I may be "alone" for Christmas, miles away from family and friends- I am not completely alone. For those of us who find ourselves in Korea for Christmas we have gathered around and made new Christmas memories. There may not be any chestnuts roasting on an open fire, snowflakes streaming from the skies or gifts under the tree- but we do have new friendships to toast to.

For the past 30 years Christmas has been spent dashing from one house to the other, lugging gifts, and indulging in one meal after another. This year I have avoided Christmas crowds; gift lists; trimming the tree; wrapping; packaging; cooking; baking; cleaning; driving; de-decorating the tree, and weeks vacuuming up the remnants of the pine scented tree (the most dreaded of holiday activities) that have made up my Christmas ritual year after year.

Although I am rejoicing in the fact that this year I have managed to escape the Christmas craziness- there is something to be said for celebrating the real spirit of Christmas.

Nothing feels more like Christmas than to have friends and family dropping in, the joy and laughter that comes with gathering around the tree; giving and receiving presents and toasting to the holidays. Despite all my delight to the no stress approach this year, I think I would trade it all in just to be home for the holidays.

Templestay

In the past two years I've sat through intensive Vipassana Meditation courses. Vipasassana mediation is one of Asia's most ancient techniques of meditation attributed to Gautama Buddha. Having experienced some powerful insight, liberation and detachment during these sittings, I've always been drawn to experiencing more.

If you're going to teach English in Korea, I highly recommend participating in a TempleStay. In Korea, the temple gates open to those who wish to be introduced and experience Buddhism. The Korean Buddhism tradition has existed for over 1700 years and participating in Templestay is one of the many rich cultural experiences one can do in Korea.

For 24 hours we experienced the unique lifestyle of Buddhist practitioners. We settled on Haeinsa Temple which offers the full cultural experience. High in the mountains, surrounded by thousand year old trees, ponds, and pathways this temple offered more than just natural beauty.

We were surrounded my monks (Sunim) in traditional robes, the many temples nestled in the forests and the sounds of wind chimes clamouring in the wind. Our host was a Korean Monk who spoke perfect English, and his story touched us all. He , like many monks lived a so-called normal life just as you and I. A life of attachment, material possessions and suffering. I am so grateful for his words, wisdom and insight.

The stay begins at with an opening ceremony at 16:00- we were given traditional clothing and shown to our rooms. The men and women are of course separated. A simple dwelling: you are given blankets and pillows and sleep on the comfort of the heated floor.

We were taught about temple banner, how to bow and basic Buddhist philosophies. At 17:00 We were treated to Balwoo-gongyang (a traditional Buddhist meal) and then to the main temple for Ye-bool at the 18:00. The Ye-boo is the Buddhist ritual that pays respect to Buddha.

To participate and observe hundreds of monks in the temple, chanting and bowing was one of the most amazing and beautiful things that I have ever seen. The energy that filled the room was indescribable. We bowed with them, and quietly observed the ritual.

At 19:00 we engaged in a Da-do- a Tea Ceremony with our Sunim; where he told us of his University days, including tragic suffering that finally led him to his path of becoming a Buddhist monk. The Buddhists claim that while drinking tea we are enjoying life. The whole ceremony was quite the process from the brewing to the drinking.

We talked about life, it's meaning, Buddhist precepts, faith and the Matrix. We talked for hours, quietly reflecting and tasting our tea. Lights out was at 21:00, as Korean Buddhists are the one of the few who rise the earliest.

The Sunim's rise at 02:30. In the darkness of the night, with the moon shining high in the sky, the monks perform a traditional drum ceremony. The pre-dawn ceremony is ignited by the drums that can be heard at 03:10, waking the animals, mammals, and lastly the humans. We joined again in the main hall at 04:00. The chants awakening every human form in the room. As the monks chant in unison, you can feel the energy flowing through your entire body.

The thought of the sacredness and the awakening of our bodies and minds at 03:00 was truly eye-opening. Normally, we would all still be out at the bars traipsing around trying to make our way home.

We were shown how to bow and at 05:00 we participated in the chanting of a thousand hands led by a senior monk and performed 108 bows. We sat through a 45 minute Zen Meditation sitting with perfect posture and breathing. We were again served tea, and had delighted to a modest breakfast.

In the morning calm, we we shown how to make our own Prayer beads. 108 strung along in complete silence. The monks say the significance of making the beads is not in the bead itself- but that the beads are meaningful because they contain within them our prayers and hopes.

We walked the grounds in full meditation and the stay wrapped up shortly after lunch. For nearly 24 hours, you are connected to your body and mind- and I was reminded of how much I truly need to remove themselves from the toxicity and negative influences in the world.

As a result of enduring some major pains some years ago, I committed to a journey to seek myself. To seek my true self. My purpose, my life and my passions. I can tell you that over the past two years my path to self-discovery has taken me to places within myself I'd never dreamed of going. I don't know that I will be able to seek enlightenment- but I do know that I am closer to fulfilling my true purpose and am so grateful to those who have shown up on my path.

May all beings be happy.

One's a Company

Having moved out out of the comfort of my family home and on my own at the age of 22 - I've had my fair share of living arrangements. Looking back, I probably should have stayed at home until I at least finished University - saved some cash and built a comfortable stash of bills.

But with choices come experiences. For eight years, I lived on my own, well not entirely on my own.. I of course as so many have had to do , I've shared accommodations with other people.

Roommates came and went as the years went by: and so did my sanity. My first apartment was with a girlfriend, we lived together for a few years. We shared laughter, some tears and of course a few fights (I'm happy to report we are still talking). I've shared with a man who didn't want to clean because he argued that he did not contribute to the dust and grime. He also refused to split the purchase of toilet paper claiming he didn't use as much as females. He was also a bar tender- and quite the ladies man! We had a younger male who rejoiced in his cleaning skills, but never laid a hand on any of the supplies- he also blessed us with a cat in heat. Some of my best years were spent with two girlfriends- but as life went on they moved on with their lives. My last two years were spent with a male who hid from me- he stole my food, was late on bills and nearly caused me a serious mental breakdown.

There was no better time to leave my apartment after eight years and move on with my own life. The first few weeks living on my own were bliss. You can eat, clean, vedge, watch whatever you want and even dance around naked. But being on your own slowly loses it's appeal. I know one day, I will look back on this alone time as a god-send- but there are days when it gets pretty lonely. Sometimes, I catch myself talking to no one, and once I actually caught myself talking to an inanimate object.

There is something to be said for sharing living space with others- even if you think you're going to go mad. There is a comfort in interpersonal relationships even if you're not romantically involved. For now, I'll just have to be content with my own company- but two's company is just that much better.

Item number 57

I crossed another thing off my list last week-end. Number 57 on the list was to stay in hostel. I'd always imagined that my hostel experience would have been in some exotic area- maybe Australia or New Zealand or even Thailand. Looking back on when I wrote this to-do item on my list, I would have never expected it would have been accomplished in Seoul, Korea.

Travelling to Seoul with two 22 year old males was quite the experience- staying in a hostel was quite another. We were headed to Hongdae, Seoul Korea. A trendy and young area of Seoul with plenty of clubs, people and things to do. The boys decided in advance on a hostel stay- lodging for a rock bottom price!

I was slightly apprehensive as I had never even stayed in something like this. I was used to the hotel life, a room with one bed, own bathroom and living space. Even in Europe I did it in style. My initial thoughts on a hostel were of concern. Who would be sleeping there? How many people? What about bathroom etiquette, food, noise? Each passing thought brought on another- until I to force myself to quit the bantering in my head.

We arrived at Hongdae Guesthouse promptly at 10:00 p.m. The guys had no trouble at all introducing themselves to the owner; and getting acquainted with the layout. We were shown to our quarters by the lovely owner, Mary. A quirky and humorous woman, she bustled about ensuring our accommodations were satisfactory. We were given the code, and ushered inside.

One bathroom, one computer, a half kitchen and two bunk beds. A upstairs loft housed three mattresses on the floor. The three of us trudged upstairs, unpacking a few belongings and setting up for the night. For a mere 20, 000 won we were housed, showered and treated to toast, coffee and orange juice in the morning.

The guests were travellers coming and going from all over Asia. Some had been there a week- and a few were just passing the night. The hardest part was the universal washroom- with a stranger right outside the door tapping away on the computer's keyboard. Privacy in a hostel doesn't quite exist!

The bottom line is that hostels are the cheapest way to go. I'm not sure I would do it again- unless of course it was in some exotic location like Costa Rica or Bali. But at least, I've crossed another item off the list!

Routines

One of my good girlfriend's told me something once that I have never forgotten. Being half way around the World this statement couldn't be any truer.

She told me that it doesn't matter where you go, or where you choose live-- you always end up back in the same routine. The routine that is comfortable and familiar.

Despite struggling at times with my life here in Korea- I've managed to just about fit all of my familiar things into my life here.

I work, go to the gym, eat, download all of my favorite (North American) shows, read, sleep and go at it again. A few nights a week, I may enjoy the company of my Korean teachers and other nights I meet up with friends for dinner and drinks. Nothing much has changed- except I'm doing it all in Korea!

The best part is that while I've fallen back into my routines- I get the added benefits of seeing some amazing things; learning all about a new culture; taking day trips and week-end trips all over the country.

I may have left the comfort of my routine back home; and although I'm making new ones here- I'm shaking things up everyday and look forward to the next adventure all the time.

Livin it Up!

Here in Korea- I don't really feel thirty. I mean well yes, of course the mirror reflects back a few (minor) tolls of gravity on my body- but besides that I am living it up as though I were some twenty year old most of the time.

I am one of few people around here in the three-oh category. I am surrounded by early to mid-twenty somethings- most of whom have just graduated from University and left the comfort of their parents homes.

The kids here party like rock stars and manage to make it out every Friday and Saturday to the hippest bars and clubs. They stumble home at all of hours of the morning- sleep it off and return several hours later to do it all over again.

I attempted to keep up with this lifestyle my first few weeks of being here- for the most part I was able to keep up (really there is nothing much else to do here on weekends)- and to my contentment many were shocked when they discovered my stamina when they learned of my age.

Last month, I came to the conclusion that the parade around town re-living my life as though I were twenty must come to an end. I've become aware of the fact that I just cannot handle going out two nights in a row anymore. My body has rejected this back-to-back notion with full force. It is reminded of my late nights and weekend binges back in the day- and has cautioned me to act my own age.

So as the decision to live it up one night a week has surfaced- I will try and make the best of it while my body is still able to keep up.

Holy Over the Hill

Weeknights can get a bit boring around here. To mix things up my friends and I try and meet up mid week to have a drink and grab dinner. There are so many restaurants around Daegu- you really have a lot to choose from.

You can find just about anything from traditional Korean, to Japanese, Chinese and even Indian. There are some wonderful Italian places, and we've even found some cozy French restaurants. Of course there is the all American eateries too. Over here they're called ex-pat places.

Within are first few weeks of arrival we located a highly talked about restaurant and sports lounge. They call it the Holy Grill. Located east of Rodeo Street it's a 2 floor establishment. The menu has some quality tastes from home, including Mexican food, real buffalo chicken wings, burgers and the best staple from back home- poutine.

My friend and I had heard about Wednesday Night's Wing Night- say we decided to give it a go this week. The sports lounge was empty with only the two of us chowing down on some fantastic wings and fries. The screen was playing highlights of the Hockey games- and really it felt just like being at home.

We were kinda hoping there would be more atmosphere- or at least a few more bodies- but nevertheless we entertained ourselves. As we finished the last several bites of our meal, two new customers entered the place.

I must admit, the male caught my eye. He was awfully cute. Then from behind him the female figure emerged. As the two took a seat at the far end of the bar, we struck up a conversation.

Turns out Mr. Looker was from my hometown, and he and his girlfriend attended the same University as myself. The girlfriend was absolutely ecstatic to know that we attended the same University, and proudly informed me that she had just graduated in May. That's correct- May 2009. As she took a swig from her beer, she eagerly asked me when I had graduated. She took another gulp and awaited my response.

"Umm, 2003", I replied with an edge of confidence. The girl wrinkled her nose and said half hazardly, "wowwww. That's a long time ago!", and returned to her drink.

And there it was: A young twenty something alluding to the fact that I was OLD. The nerve.

I contemplated how to respond. On one hand, I could have agreed with her and made a fuss and rambled on about how old I really was... but then it hit me. I was reminded at that moment of a quote I had skimmed over a while back:

Age is an issue of mind over matter. If you don't mind, it doesn't matter (Mark Twain).

Bubble Baths

I have always loved a good soak in the tub. Nothing beats being nestled into a bath, surrounded by warm porcelain , candles and a terrycloth pillow. Enveloped in layers of aromatic foam, steam and hot water. Soaking your limbs to the sounds of soft background music. Completely alone.

After two months of wrestling with my daily shower routine in my small 4x4 box-of-a- bathroom the thought of soaking my body in a bath was overwhelming.

Here in Korea bathrooms are not usually equipped with any type of fancy claw-foot tubs but they do have what's called public baths. You can find one of these bath houses just about everywhere within a 2 mile radius.

Being a newbie to Korea; we first heard of these establishments within days of our arrival. With no idea what to expect- my girlfriend and I decided to try one a couple of weeks ago. Walking around downtown one day- we spotted the sign and went in on whim. (enter record scratching here).

For about 4,000 won (that's roughly 3.50$) you are handed two very teeny towels, enough to say .... dry your hands and were quickly ushered towards the entrance.

With quizzical brows, we fumbled around the wall of small lockers. As a Korean woman brushed past us, we noted she carefully placed her shoes in the locker, and then went on to another desk. She gave us what we thought was a side glanced semi head nod- and so we followed pursuit.

With our shoes neatly tucked away, we knew that the next step would be to strip. As we entered the lounge, we were immediately blinded by buck- nakedness. A few women gaped as the two foreigners walked briskly towards their assigned locker numbers. They continued to stare even as we began to peel back layers of clothing. There was a slight awkwardness in knowing that in less than 30 seconds the two us would be in our birthday suits in front of not only each other but amongst 35 Korean women of all shapes and sizes.

We stared each other in the eye and both shrugged slightly. "This is Korea", we chimed in unison. As we took the iddy bitty towelette to cover whatever we could we bee lined it for the bath.

I scanned this new universe quickly- trying to avoid eyeballing the thirty or so bathing women who were all goggling back at us. Most stopped dead in mid-rinse to get a good look at the fresh white bodies. Horrified at their lack of privacy- we found our way into the closest nook- the steam room. With stifled giggles- we were safe. The hard part was trying to keep our conversation going all the while sitting their totally in the nude. We peered through the steamed glass to get a good look at our surroundings.

The public bath is laid out on one floor- it contains a sauna, a steam room, and a cold pool. There is a hot tub, and two other rectangular hot baths. This one even included a warm bath equipped with powerful jet sprays that send intense pressure to your muscles. And then there are about 25 shower stations lined against the back walls. Everything is out in the open, including the women.

The experience was interesting to say the least. With no knowledge of Korean and what the heck we were doing- we just did our best. Hopping from one pool to the next, taking it all in. The obvious staring was quite aggravating after awhile- but then again I think they were more concerned with our lack of hair down there than anything else. As shocking as it was for them- trust me it was a real shocker to be bombarded with bush. In case you were never informed- Korean women go at it "au naturelle" .

This concept of publicly bathing is a hard one to get around- as North American's we usually cover up as much as possible when in the gym locker room or any public place where undressing is required. We are used to shower curtains and privacy- but here in Korea if you want to get a soak on- you need to brave the masses.

I've been twice now on my own- I've held my head high and done my own thing. I still struggle with walking from the locker to the bath (which is about 8 meters away) with only a face cloth to cover my heiny- but I hope one day to just prance right on through without even a care in the world. Until that day arrives, I'm still resorting to leaving the contacts at home so that I don't see a thing.

Tip #1: Better to go at it in two's your first time. Language barriers and nudity may pose a problem to some.
Tip #2: Go prepared. Bring a large size bath towel and toiletries!

"We"

We've all known those couples who flaunt their relationships. Those that are in-your-face about being a "we". The ones who can't keep their hands off each other... the ones who can't be without their significant other for more than 5 minutes and let everyone else in the room know about it. The ones with pet names and the ones who actually use the cutsey-wutsey tags in every sentence imaginable. You know... the ones that make us singletons want to be sick.

It seems everyone here is in a couple. I mean the Korean ones. With almost 49 million people to choose from- it seems there really are plenty of fish in the sea. Dating Korean couples are slightly more different than those we are accustomed to in North America (as noted above). They have taken the "we" to another level entirely.

Most Koreans in dating relationships advertise their couple hood- with clothes. Couples walk around in matching shirts- dress shirts, sweatshirts, t-shirts and I've even witnessed some sporting the same jackets and a few with matching shoes.

The stores here cater to this like cotton candy vendors at the fair. Matching cell phones, pyjamas and even underwear.

I'm not sure how well this concept would fly back home- but for now it's all around me. Repeat this mantra: it's not wrong, it's just different.

Hello's

The population of Korea is around 49 million people. Here in Daegu it's estimated to be at 2,512, 604. That's a lot of people. Of that two million- there are a few of us non-Koreans scattered around town. I am completely making up this number- but if I had to estimate the non-Korean population in Daegu- I'd have to go with numbers in the thousands.

It's easy to spot the Native English Teachers- we stick out like sore thumbs. My first week here in Korea was a lot to take in- but when you finally spot a foreigner a ways down the street- you can't help but feel a little giddy. I flashed by brilliant smile and waved my hand around like Sandy the sea lion performing a trick at the aquarium. My first encounter with a foreigner! Initially, when the person to whom my greetings were directed were met with a refusal to return my sentiments- I chalked it up to miscommunication or even blindness.

You'd think the exchange of English words and familiar greetings would be the highlight of your day. As the days turned into weeks, and weeks into months- I just couldn't understand the stats. I'd say that about 8/10 times my "nods" and "grins" were simply not reciprocated. No eye contact- no acknowledgement- just blank stares.

Having felt somewhat self -conscious the matter was immediately broached within the circle of friends. Apparently this is happening all over Korea. Foreigners disregarding other foreigners when out in public places. Who would have thought?

After some deliberation - it still isn't clear why this phenomenon occurs. Determined to change my stats- and have my "hello's" and "how are you's" met with at least a smile- I go on walking out there with my girlish charm and forward greetings. I'm aiming for 5 out of 10 to reciprocate the gesture. Half is always better than two!

Coke Bottle

The other day in the teacher's lounge, surrounded by co-workers, my Vice Principal gestured for me to sit next to her. She smiled and I could tell by the look on her face she was trying to think of the words she wanted to say. She finally sputtered, " You : Coke bottle" and patted my shoulder. I wasn't quite sure what the words meant; and so by reading the blank stare on my face she again said, " You- Coke bottle". This time she threw in a small hand gesture. Still unclear on the intention- I sneered. Was she calling me fat? Finally after some deliberation she spoke in Korean to my colleague. I was then translated her meaning- she wanted to tell me that I had curves... just like a coke bottle.

I have to admit the symbolism used was brilliant. Slightly taken aback- I expressed gratitude for her comment. She appeared flattered and proud of her compliment.

Here in Korea- people say what they mean- no holds bar. For example, I've been told that I look tired, sick and have even overheard women tell each other that they got fat over the break.

In North America, we tend to smile and nod, and deter from pointing out anything that may be perceived as hurtful, rude or inappropriate.

Maybe we could all take stock in the Korean way of words: say what you mean and mean what you say!

Simplicity

As we move on in our twenties- we hold more powerful jobs, make more money and acquire more possessions. We buy more and want more. Do we really need all that stuff?

Ushered into my apartment on that first day some three months ago- I was quite shocked when I took it all in. Or should I say lack there of?

One bed, one table, one chair. One lamp, one TV, one armoire. A few hangers, a washer and a lone roll of toilet paper. One pot, one pan. Two plates and a can opener. One fork, one knife, two spoons and a pair of chopsticks. That's about it.

After some initial essential purchases and a few a plants to call it home- I was settled in.

The funny thing is- you soon realize that you don't really need all that stuff to survive. It amazes me everyday just how little we need to live comfortably and be happy.

Don't get me wrong- I'm not trying to say that I am now ready to lead the life of a monk- but there is something to be said for the simple life. A little downsizing now and then isn't so bad after all- if you can just be grateful for the things you do have.

Sports Day

Last week our school held it's annual "Sports Day". Here in Korea- you never really are warned about events in advance. The people here just pass information along as briefly as it comes.

Just as I was clearing my desk, shutting the computer down and getting ready to call it a day, my co worker informed me that the following day I would need to forgo my usual work attire and dress in sports clothes. She let me know the school was having their sports day, and that the teachers dress down and cheer on the students.

Geared up and ready to go in my lululemon's I was ready for sports day. As I approached school, a couple of the students passed by me, and giggled in choppy English. I could barely make out what they were saying, but I got bits and pieces of the garbled message. Something about, cheer..... Cynthia.... Teacher..... race. Horrified, I quickened my pace into the building, and sat at my desk- searching for my one colleague who would be able to decode the message.

I was advised that there was in fact a teacher's race that afternoon, and that I should not be worried- it was just for fun. Great- thanks for the heads up.

Outside, the students chanting and cheering peeked my curiosity- from the teachers lounge I saw the students stretching, and running in place. I looked a little more closely and saw the race was a mere 100 meter dash. Relief. I had this.

At precisely 2:35, I was scurried into the main field. In was confused, as the lines for the race were on the other side of the field- but figured they were just going to announce us or something. Then from the left, colored pinnies were being thrown at us. As I struggled to put the damn thing on, I stood there in utter confusion. I quietly asked one of the teachers next to me to clarify. Turns out it we were running a relay race.

I never ran track in high school, I run now and then when I feel up to it- but a relay?? With cold muscles, I was put in position. I scanned the crowds of students and waited for my team mate to turn. I began a slow jog, and grabbed the baton. I was in the lead. As I ran the crowd cheered. My students chanted, "cyn- thi- a" " cyn-thi-a". As each chant escalated, I raised the baton and they cheered louder and louder. I had visions of the Olympics as I wizzed by my competition- I was a natural at this.

Then as I was about 5 steps from the hand off- I totally bailed. Fell down with a thud (there were dust swirls behind me). I saw the sky, the dirt, and the sky again. The crowd was silent. My team mate was so mad, she grabbed the baton out of my hand and took off. As the dust settled, and twigs were pulled from hair- I was helped to my feet.

Limping off the field, trying to save my pride and assess my bodily wounds all I could do was laugh. Seems like something right out of a movie. But this was real. I was all cut up. I was treated, bandaged up and sent home. I spent the next two days answering a 1000 student's inquiries and showing off my battle wounds.

The whole thing went down really differently in my mind., that's for sure.

Eating Out

Lazy Sunday's- gotta love them! After Friday night's hookah bar, Saturday's amusement park, I awoke to rain drizzling down in Daegu.

What a better way to start the mid afternoon than hitting up a home-style breakfast joint. A little taste of home! Hami Mami's is nestled close to Camp Walker (one of three US army bases). It serves all day breakfast- just the way we're used to: eggs, bacon, bagels, french toast and home fries.

After fueling up on some delicious all American breakfast, we hit up a public bath (more on this to follow), had a real pedi, did some shopping, and before you know it it was time to eat again!

Eating out in Korea has been quite the experience. Unless you're eating "American" eating Korean food is quite the challenge. Unless of course, you had had the opportunity to buckle down and learn the language or befriend a Korean.

My girlfriend and I decided to take a chance and indulge in some Korean food for dinner. One- it's way cheaper and two- if we're gonna be here another 11 months, we better learn to eat it! After eliminating several options, we decided the heck with it, and walked into a random place. Here's a recap:

Step 1) Enter restaurant
Step 2) Randomly select options from the pictures on the walls
Step 3) Alert waitress, and sign language that we have no idea what we are doing
Step 4) Scour the joint and try and catch a peek at what everyone else is eating
Step 5) Sign to the waitress that she ought to suggest a dish or make a recommendation
Step 6) Smile and Nod and agree to whatever she has suggested
Step 7) Laugh out loud and pray you're not about to sit down to devour Cow intestine
Step 8) Wait for the meal to arrive
Step 9) Quietly watch how everyone else is eating the meal
Step 10) Just dig in!

For 9,000 won we ate like Queens; had a few laughs and will never ever be able to remember what we ate!

Pampering

Every now and then we could all use a little pampering. What's better than a little lunch, some shopping and a pedicure??

This experience wasn't quite what we were used to: the whole pick your polish; sit back in one of those over size massage chairs; have feet scrubbed, scaled and seduced while you catch up on gossip with your girlfriends. This was a completely different kinda thing.

It's called Dr. Fish Zone. Let me explain: It's cafe, bookstore and pedi place all in one. For a measly 6,000 won (roughly 6 $) you are greeted with warm fresh rolls butter and jam, and a choice of coffee, juice or tea (unlimited). You can have a chat with friends, watch some television, play X-box or read some books and of course you can have the opportunity to have fish eat your feet if you are so inclined.

The place is quite classy, and once ready you're asked to rinse your feet in warm water. Once completed, you then plunge your feet into a cold aquarium style case embedded into the floor. No sand, no fancy backgrounds. A box filled with about 10 inches of water, and an average of 20-30- fish.

They are by no means underfed ( we noted a stash of fish food neatly tucked under a cabinet) and as soon as your feet are immersed under water, the feeding frenzy begins.

For 15 minutes the fish suction, nibble and nab at your toes. Initially uncomfortable and ticklish, you soon give in to the experience. The three of us sat there, squirming-- trying to understand the logic of this kinda treatment! I only had a few nibbles at my feet, the lot of them were much more interested in my friend's soles. (I was quite relieved actually!)

It really didn't do much, and I would much prefer a conventional pedi- complete with having my toes polished and primed- but at least we gave it a go.

If the shoe fits...

When first planning my trip to Korea, I was a tad apprehensive about some of the food dishes I know I would be introduced to and/or obliged to eat. One disadvantage is that I refuse to eat fish and seafood. Just don't like it. Korea is known for their seafood dishes, and they sneak fish into just about everything. There is an upside to this though- this is going to be great for my figure.

Eating less and walking just about where has me crossing my fingers for a few less pounds! Week 4, and I've lost 5 pounds already! Korea has been great for my body image!

I decided to celebrate the lighter me and crack down on some shopping. Daegu is known for it's shopping districts- and so off I went.

Bombarded with neon signs, rows of clothing boutiques and hundreds of shoe stores I was in heaven. That is... until I tried to figure out the sizing.

(insert record scratching here). After twenty minutes of trying to figure out the size numbers (in Korean), trying on arm full of stylish tops and trying to inch my feet into every adorable pair of heels I could find... I finally figured out my perfect size in Korea.

Dress size: 95
Shoe size: 255

I haven't even attempted to look at the pants around here. Most of them look like they will fit around my thigh. I'm not so sure Korea is going to be the place where my ego soars... but as they say- as long as the shoe fits...

Home Sweet Home

Home these days is a tiny studio apartment big enough just for me. I am constantly banging parts of myself on the walls, scarce furniture and and french doors which separate the living space. I often wonder if this apartment is bigger than those in New York City. At least my bed doesn't fold down and detach itself from the wall!

The bedroom/living room/tv room/computer station/microwave area:

It's a little bare for now, but with a few plants and maybe some wall art- I think it will do just fine. I am however still getting used to the whole single bed thing again- I almost fell out last night, just trying to get a good stretch in as I settled to sleep.

The bathroom/shower/toilet/sink area:

The bathroom is a another story. It's one of those things- you just have to learn to get used to! As my girlfriend put it- you can pee, shave your legs and brush your teeth all at the same time. Complete efficiency.

The kitchen:

A little on the cramped side. You can't open the fridge without banging your behind on the doors, and you can't wash a dish with out squeezing your body in between the sink and fridge. With no counter space, chopping, cutting and peeling are some what of an art form! The two stove burner is a real gem to master- but I've scaled down on my cooking...


The best thing about this apartment is that it is all mine. I just need to dress it up a little!

Home Stay

In Korea, one should expect the unexpected. I think it should be the unofficial motto around here. I arrived safely in the city they call, "colorful Daegu". I was introduced to teachers, the vice principal and principal. of my school. The introductions were mostly filled with me smiling and nodding. Them talking and smiling back at me. One thing is for sure, the school was very excited to greet me.

Within minutes of my first exchanges, I was informed that all of the teachers would be dining out together, and that I was invited to come along for a meal. Exhausted from my the long bus ride in, this sounded delightful. I quickly accepted the offer, and smiled at the thought of finishing up and being shown to my new apartment. It would be so great to unpack, unwind and settle in to my new digs. Dreams of solitude, rest and comfort were interrupted within the next several minutes. Apparently, my apartment would not be ready for a few days and that as their guest teacher, I would be staying with one of my fellow colleagues and her family. Initially stunned by the news, alone, cranky and tired I practically bursted into tears. Home stay?!!

After re-packing yet another bag and regaining most of my composure, I was on my way. At first I was afraid. My colleague knew little English and I of course knew little Korean! I was to stay with this family for four days until my apartment was ready.

I was greeted my thew two most curious creatures. My colleague's two children, were the cutest darn children I had ever seen. They jumped with excitement upon my arrival, and I quickly decided that this may not be so bad at all.

My home stay showed me one of the true ways of Korean life. I learned many new things about Korean culture and shared some of my own. I was shown how to (properly) use chop sticks by a six year old, privy to authentic Korean cooking three times a day (I'm still not sure how they stay so thin), climbed on, read to and jumped on some more. I was taken on a field trip to Pagyesa Temple and treated to Korean Duck Grill.

Four days later I was the charades champion of Korean-English conversations. Plus, the kids have this great electronic dictionary.

What I can tell you is that Koreans are one of the most generous and kind people I have ever met. As a guest in someones home, you are fed, showered with smiles and affection. They will do anything to ensure your stay is comfortable and acceptable. They are a culture of sharing, giving, and harmony.

I hope that all of us here in this country can take home some of these wonderful cultural values learned in Korea. It amazes me how far love and kindness can really take you.

Dynamic Korea

Survival Korean Lessons:

1. Try your best and pick up a few key phrases
2. When in doubt use hand gestures
3. or find someone who can translate
4. Smile
5 . Just go with the flow.


Life here continues... only two days left of orientation and then off to the city which I will be calling home for the next year. This pseudo freshmen week is almost coming to a close, and as the sips of soju and beer dwindle down, the people around here are quickly making connections and friendships, quickly realizing that in two's days time the gigantic frat party is over.

In the meantime, I've learned that Korea is a crazy place. Last night, a group of us decided to let loose and head into the city for an authentic Korean experience.

Let's re-cap: Having nearly been run over by a delivery boy on a scooter to our right, we triple checked that the coast was clear. Stepping carefully off the curb to find our taxi, we were then practically run off the road by a flashy Hyundai to our left. Having recovered, the task at hand was how to get to our destination. 3 taxi's for 12 people. Having mangled the Korean so badly, a fellow Korean-American wrote down the Korean Characters to show the drivers. Each group had to follow suit. After some basic hand signals ensuring each driver knew where we were headed, we were on our way.

As we lurched into the back seat, the taxi took off. At speeds in excess of 100 km on city roads, we were almost killed, and nearly took out a few pedestrians along the way. Taxi's here do not follow any sort of road courtesy- they even go through red lights. He must have thought this was an emergency.

Having caught our breath and landed on stable ground, we waited for the other taxi's to arrive. As each taxi passed minus our companions,the panic set in. Turns out all 3 taxi's dropped off their fares at opposite ends of the square. Having found the only other 9 foreigners in the busy market, we were re-grouped and set off to find a stiff drink, pronto.

In this city, there is nothing a little soju and silk larvae to help kickback after a stressful day.

Day 5

Everyday I wake up, it still hasn't quite hit me that I'm in Korea. It's probably because I am surrounded by approximately 600 or so other Native English Teachers who have been invited by the Government to participate in this program. For 9 days, we have been lucky enough to be staying in Jeon-Ju University. The dorm is actually named "the place for superstars".

The schedule is pretty hectic, with training classes from 9- 5:30. This orientation week has me feeling some ten years younger. It's seriously like frosh week. Clutches of groups, rooming, eating, drinking and partying together.

I never actually had the opportunity to live in rez in University- but have been lucky enough to share in the experience before me.

Curfew is at 1:00 am, and while hitting the city one night with a few new friends, we arrived at the building's front door in the nick of time. Bombarded by bodies before us, guzzling down the last remnants of their beers and soju- I observed what it must have been like to be at an all American frat party. I've never seen a breeding ground like it. The men had only one thing on their minds.

Funny thing is, Koreans are conservative and it is not acceptable to have males and females share sleeping quarters, unless they are married or in a "couple". The guys had been blocked on pursuing their intentions from the Government itself.

As we've reached the fifth day, I realize of course that this frosh week is completely the opposite of what lies ahead in just a few days. I gather that when they drop me off at my new apartment and I'm the only native English speaker for a few miles- the reality will strike.

Until then, I'll practice my Korean, enjoy the time with my new found friends and just go with the flow.

The Arrival

Well.... I landed safely in Seoul. I made it through the connections, the cramped seats and airplane food. After lugging around my bags and following the herd of other native English teachers streaming through the airport, I realized I wasn't the only one on an adventure. As I scoped the line ahead, 600 or so other bodies were clutched together around the meeting desk. I guess the whole teaching ESL thing in Asian countries is really as popular as they say it is.

After getting on a bus to take us to our orientation destination point we piled into the dorm rooms and settled in for the night. Losing a complete day was hard enough, but waking up the next morning and realizing that you're in a dorm room, with a virtual stranger in the bed next to you is pretty scary. Realizing within the next few waking moments that all of this is happening in Korea is even more dramatic. Several thoughts rush through your mind- how did I actually get here?

Good news is the people are awesome (except for some very strange characters- more about this at a later date). The best thing aout teaching with the EPIK program is that there are about 600 of us here to meet and greet. I've met some fantastic people! I've even befriended a couple from near home. He's already taken his rightful spot as my wingman.

I'm thinking Korea is going to be a very good adventure...

Ready, Set. Go.

Travel List

Vaccines. Check.
Selling of personal possessions. Check.
Passport. Check.
Visa. Check.
Money. Check.
Tickets.Check
Sanity. Check.

After three months of what seems to be endless preparation, the time has finally come. In less than 24 hours I will be making my way across to the other side of the world.

Packing your life into two bags with 55 pound weight restrictions has been trying. What do you take? What do you leave behind? You start to sort the non-negotiables from the negotiables. Hair dryer, straightener and lulu-lemon pants (non -negotiables). Shoes, products and make-up (non-negotiables). With whatever room you're left with you cram as much clothing, books, pictures, and personal things as you can. It wasn't as easy as it sounds. I packed, re-packed and packed again, eliminating things as I trudged along.

Having won the wrestling match with my two suitcases, I left the worry of going over my weight allowance in the wind. There are just so many things I couldn't leave behind.

As the hour quickly approaches, I'm mindlessly moving one pile from one area to the other. With only a few last minute things to pack, I'm ready to go.

I feel pretty calm despite what awaits ahead. I figure one of two things will happen when I step foot into the bussling airport in the morning. Either, I'll realize I've lost my sanity and demand that my parents drive me right back to the comfort of my family home or with a few tears and stomach flips I'll make my way through the gate and embrace the adventure.

There are bets that I will have a minor melt down, but as I see it- it isn't good-bye... it's see you in a little while...

Girls Night In

In our twenties, Girls Night consisted of an evening excursion where girlfriends gathered, dressed in skimpy outfits, drank ridiculous amounts of alcohol and headed out for a night on the town. We would be loud, reckless and act like we didn't have boyfriends.

As the years passed, and we all became busy in our personal, romantic and business lives our once partied filled girls nights on the town turned into something much more profound... Girls Night In.

Girls Night In: A small group of good girl friends who get together either at some one's house or casual eatery. A chance for us to unwind, have dinner, drink good wine and of course gossip about everything.

Once gathered, we check in with each other. We broach the work topic and move on quickly. We gossip about relationships and sex. We offer advice for the girls who need expertise in all areas, especially on how to control their boyfriends/husbands. We analyze just about everything. We fantasize about love and romance. We discuss fashion and very random facts. Sometimes we talk about nothing at all. As the wine flows, we return to our favorite topic : the bedroom. Blunders, passionate nights and hot tips. We really should run our own racy column.

I'm really going to miss attending this weekly affair!

The Club

We decided to shake things up a bit and hit the downtown club scene Saturday night. Back in our early to mid twenties we knew the hot spots. We had connections, guest lists and VIP status. We knew the DJ's spinning each weekend. Week after week, bouncers greeted us with friendly winks as we passed through security and bartenders smiled as we strolled through the club.

Dolled up and ready to go by eleven, the gang of us partied through the wee hours of the morning, drink after drink, we partied hard. As the beats spun, we were on fire. We rocked the dance floor and occasionally the speakers.

We were there once. But as it would seem not anymore. With absolutely no idea where to go and no connections, we counted on the younger generation to help us out. Just like old times, we were picked up at eleven by our DD and headed out to a club suggested by a young twenty something male.

Just wasn't like the old days. Hip twenty somethings grooving to the music, fighting for spots to showcase their moves on the speakers, clanking cocktail glasses and drooling over each other. We witnessed the occasional fall off the speakers, boys exposing their bare chests and gals busting out their moves in barely there skirts.

As we sipped our twelve dollar cocktails high above in the VIP section we surveyed the club goers down below. We shared a few laughs at their expense. We saw ourselves ten years younger. We were old.

My how quickly we forget that we were there once. All we did was look forward to Saturday nights. We partied hard well after the clubs closed; fallen off speakers; been carried out of the bar and forgotten people behind. We killed the party scene.

Now in our thirties, there were a few stifled yawns as the clock struck two. We were more excited to kick off our heels and crawl into bed than anything else. I keep telling myself it was just the club, because I know I still have it in me to party like a twenty something.

Wingmen

Men just seem to have this unwritten code that has been passed down from generation to generation that girls are simply just not privy to. Being a woman, I can only guess that at some pre-determined age- like fifteen, boys are quickly taught some of the important rules of the dating world. Take for example, the wingman philosophy. Whether at seventeen, twenty two or thirty (I suspect this role carries on in their later stages as well) men just have each other's back, constantly looking out for one another and helping their buddies approach women.

Let's take a closer look at the concept: A wingman's role is to support his single friend in picking up a woman. The single guy spots a woman with the intentions of seducing her, and his wingman backs him up, by chatting up one of her friends or engaging the woman herself and making comments which make his friend seem more attractive. Voila! Single Guy and Single Girl hit if off. This whole social interaction appears to be a very calculated maneuver- but it works. Simple 3 step process.

In my experience, women are so very very different. Winggirl is a foreign concept in our circle. We were never taught the simple approach. Women are certainly aware of the notion, but for some reason or another choose to ignore the rule ( you know what I mean- single woman sets her sights on single male, a plan is made, friend sets herself up for the screening process, friend signals that she's going in, she chats him up, bats her eyes, flips her hair, lingers on his every word, giggle's at everything he says, she realizes she is enjoying the guy's attention, friend ceases to exist and twenty minutes later she realizes that her single friend is waiting in the corner for her to return with some sign that its good to go). Not so simple. Long drawn out twelve step process.

You'd think by thirty, women would have figured it out. I think we need to take a few pointers from our counterparts and revolutionize the winggirl philosophy. Probably won't happen in this lifetime- but it's worth a shot. Maybe the single gals should just start going out on the town with their male friends only... I think they may have our best interests at heart.

Just One Drink

By thirty, we have poise, insight and experience. At this stage, we've learned our limits and discovered that making bad choices have consequences. We realize that crash diets really don't work; that we can actually say NO and enjoy it and we've been through enough to finally be able to spot the red flags.

Who knew that our wisdom didn't apply to our love for partying? You'd think that by the age of 30 we would have the experience behind us to know that one drink usually leads to two and that hitting the bars and guzzling back too many cocktails is directly linked with severe fogginess, throbbing temples, random flashbacks, couch potatoism and a strong declaration to never pick up another drink again.

We find ourselves painfully reliving this lesson, over and over again. Will we ever learn that we just can't handle it like we used to in our early twenties? Will we ever learn that it's okay to just have one drink?

The Reason

I believe everything happens for a reason. People we meet, the things they say and do. Each person or situation has some small effect on our lives, and somehow we grow or change as a result. Maybe a stranger’s conversation sparks inspiration or creative genius. Sometimes a friend’s kind words or experiences instill bravery and courage that make you wake up and want to make a change.

Sometimes I wonder why certain things happen or why certain people show up in our lives. It seems somehow these encounters just seem to happen for a reason. Sometimes an opportunity presents itself, and we are faced with hard choices. We may not get the job we had a hearts set on; relationships we thought would last through the ages just weren't meant to be; some doors close. But quietly observe what is being presented. When when one door closes, another opens. Look for the opportunities. Listen to what people have to offer. You just never know why they've shown up.

What I can tell you is that at this point in my life, I believe that every experience big or small up until now has shaped who I am, and has led me to exactly where I am supposed to be, at exactly the right time and for the right reasons.

I am about to embark on the biggest adventure of my life. The opportunity knocked and I am walking through the door.

Ask yourself the hard questions, make the hard choices. Remember that things happen for a reason and live your dreams.

The Adventure

Turning thirty has brought a whirlwind of changes, challenges and excitement. As a result of a certain sequences of events, I’ve made a decision to pick up and travel across the world to teach English.


One of my goals has always been to teach children- so I took a TESL course at a local University. Surrounded by early twenty somethings with looming graduate statuses were buzzing about, excited to teach abroad somewhere in the World. The world was at their fingertips. Some chose Italy, one had his sights set on Greece. Others chose Japan, Germany and South Korea.


Out of 20 classmates, I was one of three people over the age of 30. My initial intentions were just to complete the course and maybe tutor for some extra cash. You know… stay safe and comfortable exactly where I am.


With all of their excitement and spontaneity, I stopped and really questioned myself. Why couldn’t I do that as well? What exactly was keeping me here? After some intense internal battles- I finally made the decision to go for it. I had nothing to loose. Being somewhat of a free spirit helps, but I figured there was no better time in my life to live a little. This is our one shot at making our dreams a reality… and so I’m living it up.

As the 4 week countdown begins its only fitting to borrow from the Genius himself. Dr. Seuss wrote in "Oh the Places You’ll Go":

Congratulations!

"Today is your day.
You're off to Great Places!
You're off and away!"

You have brains in your head.
You have feet in your shoes.

"You can steer yourself anydirection you choose."

You're on your own.
And you know what you know.
And YOU are the guy who'lldecide where to go.



For a full version of the book complete with photojournalism by an Australian Backpacker please visit http://www.photohype.com/HBjourneyGerri.htm

Vacationland

My dedicated fans have been asking for more, and I realize that I haven’t written a single word since May. Most of you might have thought I got sucked into some shady cult given my last posting, but fear not I am alive and kicking.

So much has transpired over the past few months, which I promise to explain in later postings- but for now I owe this one to Vacationland.

Everyone needs a little down time, a little sunshine, and a lot of drinking, laughter and of course kicking it back a few years and being fifteen for a few days.

As I rocked out to Michael Jackson’s ( aka MJ) greatest hits on the drive down I looked forward to Vacationland.

As I approached my girlfriend’s beach front cottage, I caught a glimpse of her awaiting my arrival. Armed with colorful acrylic wine glasses and some classic Chardonnay, at two in the afternoon, vacation was under way.

Settling in, I took it all in. The sea air, the sound of the crashing waves against the beach. One cottage. Two couples. One very adorable and single guy two doors down... plus me. What are the odds?

Road Rockets in hand my girlfriend and I made it to the local bar...barely. We were joined by my girlfriend’s good friend from two doors down. We’re not so sure how we made the walk home- mangled, but the chivalrous Mr. Two Doors Down offered the ladies a ride home on his scooter. Relief struck us as we exited the bar to catch a ride on a sleek and stylish, two wheeled bike (or so we assumed).

Turns out, the glimmering silver object reflecting off the moonlight was in actuality a handled-bar skateboard with mini wheels. We nearly died of laughter- but also nearly died trying to actually use the damn thing ( due to levels of alcohol consumption). There was a bail out, more laughter and a black bruise to boot. Good times. We still suspect he stole it from the kid down the street.

As the sunshine rolled out, so did the memories. The gang of us beached it by day and binged by night. Over the course of the next four days we managed to* gaze at the stars, get super D (aka drunk) , takeover the door man’s job and card people at the bar, get kicked out of the bar, return home, make a bonfire, catch the sunrise, walk the beach like 15 year old teenagers drinks in hand at 5:30 in the morning, play beach baseball, be seduced by swingers and took a car for the ultimate ride.

Oh to be single, sexy and free in Vacationland.

* the inspiration for the prose was perfectly summarized by "Pete" and so I sheepishly admit that I borrowed some of his material. Thanks.

Bliss

Last Spring goal #12 was crossed off the list. After a year of daily yoga practice and dabbling in different meditation techniques, I decided to take it one level higher, and learn the technique of Vipassana Meditation. After doing some intensive Internet research, I learned that this particular technique is one of the most intensive techniques out there. It is a Buddhist technique, over 2500 years old. As I scanned the technique and code requirements, I told myself I could do this. The introductory course lasts ten days, and the foundation of the practice is based on silence.

Basically, you take a vow of silence for ten days. You sit in meditation for ten hours a day in stretches that last from 2-3 hours. Intense. You are also required to follow a code of honesty, and eating vegan. I had a feeling it was going to be extreme, but I was up for the challenge. Oh and did I mention, no contact with the outside world. No phone. No email. No drama.

One of the aims of the technique is to penetrate the deepest levels of the unconscious mind, and learn how to eradicate the complexes living there.

So off I went to the ashram in pursuit of eradicating, and purging the toxins of mind. I can attempt to explain what happened in there, but it most likely will not make any sense to the outsider.

What I can tell you that ten days being alone with your own thoughts is trying, but in the end completely worth it. On the fourth day, I contemplated just calling it quits, but self -determined to complete the course I stayed. On the eighth day it was complete and utter silence in my mind. I can actually say it was bliss.

The time table was bit grueling, but after day two you're into the swing of things. Wake up bell is at 4:00 a.m, and lights out at 9:30.

Ten days is hardly enough time to purge every complexity, but I can tell you that I left a very toxic person behind in the crevices of the ashram. The sacredness of the meditation hall released years of negative energy associated with a particular ex, who continued to have a presence in my mind. He stuck around in my mind for way too long, and one day he was finally gone. Gone baby gone.

The premise is a technique of pure regarding, no mantras, no music, no guides. You sit through the discomfort, through the silence. The technique is taught by a guru, who gives daily instructions. See the thing is, in our day to day lives we are bombarded with all kinds of discomforts- emotional, physical and psychological. With the technique in hand, we can know whole heartily that it will pass.

The principals learned follow the Buddhist traditions, and you don't need to be a Buddhist to practice. But practicing love, kindness, gratitude and forgiveness daily are one sure way to live a happier and healthier life.

Without fail, there were some mishaps, like unknowingly putting on someone else's shoes at 4:00 am. in the pitch black, and realizing after leaving the hall that my own shoes were not there. I realized that I had actually slipped on the wrong foot wear. Imagine not being to tell the person you stole their shoes (due to noble silence), but secretly watching them freak out when they can't find their shoes.

I will write more on my personal experiences with my first course as time goes on, and will do my best to explain the sheer joy and love that I felt within upon completion of the course. For now, I will leave it at this, as I am heading off for another course, in hopes of reaching bliss once again.

This course is a simple three day- I don't know that I have the dedication to sit another ten day! I am not sure what will be eradicated this time around, but I look forward to discovering what lays ahead. See you in a few days.


Should you wish to research the technique, please visit http://www.dhamma.org/. There are ashrams around the world.

The DD

A very peculiar thing happened this Saturday night. As the week closed in on Saturday night's plan to celebrate another thirtieth birthday party, a few of us from the more rural areas chatted back and forth agreeing to ride share our way into town.

Back in the day, we fought tooth and nail over who wasn't going to be the DD. And there it was, four grown women, duking it out , because each one wanted to take their own cars so that they could leave the party early.

Has it really come to this? Are we seriously that old?

Serendipity

A few old friends got together last night, as the wine and conversation flowed, we talked politics, religion and favorite flicks.  And then came serendipity. 

Serendipity:  the effect by which one accidentally discovers something fortunate, especially while looking for something else entirely. The concept is often applied to scientific findings, such as the discovery of penicillin, or helium. But as I looked around the dinner table, it got me thinking.  To me, its interchangeable with the likes of  fate, timing and chance. Finding the one. 

I am sure we can all agree that at some point in our dating lives, we've come across what appear to be those fairy tale urban myths- the couple who "just knew"; that couple who found each other while traveling to far off places-and finding that person who just seemed to show up everywhere they went; or the success stories of the two people who found each other online just as they were about to close off their dating accounts or even the couple who made eye contact one night from across the bar and ending up finding each other three years down the road. 

Ahh, the stories, that keep us singles holding out for our own serendipity. As I looked at the couples before me, a certain chemistry  was apparent. The glances and lingering touches that generated electricity in the room.  Big hugs and gentle kisses exchanged between lovers. Somehow, you just know that these two people are just meant to be. 

As I ponder the stories that have materialized before my eyes, it gives me hope. A sense of excitement knowing that this really does happen. Filled with optimism that true love really does exist.  But most importantly its knowing that when the timing is right, the right person shows up. 

Life happens...

She turned 28. Of course she is happy, she hasn't hit the big "3-0"! Nevertheless, a dear friend of mine read my blog for the first time. Oddly, I feel like my words touched her somehow, and in turn her gratitude touched me as well.

Simply put, she wrote me a personal note, " Your thoughts made me realize that turning another year older and being single is something I should embrace, accept and enjoy".

I couldn't have said it more eloquently and must give back thanks for those older and wiser than myself who also graced me with their words of wisdom.

For me, being single isn't about waiting around and expecting miracles to happen. I go on about my life, learning and growing all the time. I've come to peace with who I am, what I am about and what I want in life and in a significant other.

Don't get me wrong, It took me awhile to sort it all out and rebuild myself from a toxic relationship. Over the past two years, I have truly discovered my true goals and passions and are putting them into action.

I am so thankful for the relationship I have built with myself and look forward to many more years of self-discovery.

I've been told that life is what happens when you're busy making other plans. Go on, get out there!

Break or Break -Up?

Dating in our teens and twenties boyfriends would often insist that they needed "a break" from the girl they were dating. Or the couple themselves both decided to "take a break". I never really understood what a "break" meant exactly I thought it was just something guys and girls used when they were younger to sound cool. Operative word being younger.


Unfortunately, to my surprise men are still using this concept in their thirties. Seriously? Cowards. My girlfriend's guy attempted this sly maneuver on her last week. Just so we are clear, let's try and define a break. If you're on a break, you don't see each other or talk to each other. So what is the point? What do you do on a break anyway? What are the rules? What are the guidelines? Time lines?

Unless there is valid reason for a break, such as successful candidate for contestant on a reality TV show or an unexpected trip to the Artic for a pre -determined amount of time, then I can see it passing. But seriously...

Isn't a "break" just another way of saying break up? In my opinion its a wussy way of breaking up. Give it up boys ( or should I say men?) . Lets call a spade a spade. A break is really just a break up disguised- where men are too scared to be honest. Just say what you mean. Please.

Saturday Night Singles

She wasn't kidding! As the rain beat down outside on Saturday, she asked me what I wanted to do. First thought. Be Cozy. I looked out toward the window, it was grey, drizzly and miserable out. "Ummm... Stay home and watch a movie? I said with a inquisitive brow. She didn't like the sound of that. She told me that I had been single too long, and scorned my choice of renting a good flick. Then she kindly reminded me that I wasn't 50.

"Think." she said. "Where are all the men on a Saturday Night? - cause that's where we're going." Her fingers drummed against the table, eagerly awaiting my go ahead with Saturday night plans. After I kiboshed most of her suggestions, we quickly realized that it was hockey night. Now we were on to something. We checked the game listing and saw that we were in for a good game. She looked at me and smiled. "Beer + Grub + Hockey+ Pub = Men", she remarked. "Game starts at Seven", I said. "Be here at 6:30", she replied with a grin.

And off we went, two singles on a Saturday Night in search of some single men watching a good old hockey game.

As we were seated and scanned the pub, our waitress brought us our drinks. After a few laughs our glasses clinked in unison. "To being Friends and To being single!" the chin chin inferred.

Throughout the night, men dwindled in and out of the pub. Although we didn't meet the men of our dreams, we did enjoy the game and had a really great time.

My How Things Change!

7 days ago, I was the last one standing. Officially the last of my kind in my group of girl friends. I was wildly ecstatic for my girlfriend who has been waiting a long time for this man to arrive! After the giddiness subsided, my mind decided to conjure up all sorts of horrible thoughts. One thought leading to the next, and each passing thought was more awful than the one before it.

Visions of myself being the 18th wheel at all of our upcoming functions; not being invited out to dinner parties because I had no man by my side; Images of endless Friday and Saturday nights alone as the others were coupled off at "date nights" around the city. To my horror, my mind went on a tizzy: Images of myself at 50 with 12 cats and a cabinet full of Chardonnay was all I could think of.

5 minutes later I shook it off, and got on with things. Then the strangest thing happened-

3 days ago, we were back to two. One of my girlfriends was back in the single life. The compassionate side of me was saddened by the news, no one likes a break -up. But the selfish side of me was happy to hear that my friend has joined me back on the other side of life. The single life. Despite her sadness, I think she's ready to move forward, and she's let on that we're about to take on the dating world.

Here we come. Watch Out.

How Ironic

" I feel so old!", she quipped. I did a double take, just to make sure she was talking to me. As she stood in front of the mirror reapplying her crimson gloss, I watched her reflection in the mirror. I noted that this child didn't look a day over 20, about 120 pounds and wearing the latest fashion trend. "Pardon me?", I stammered. This perky barely twenty something babbled on about the clothing choices of the younger women in the bar, she commented on how thin, young and risque the girls were. She confided that when she was their age she would have never worn what the "younger" girls were wearing now- and then she admitted that she felt too old to be in this particular bar. As she made some final alterations to her own attire and pouffed her hair, I watched her. You have no idea kiddo. No idea at all. I giggled, "Do you mind telling me how old you are?". She smucked her lips, ensuring the gloss was evenly distributed, and smiled. "22!" she exclaimed.

Instead of giving in to my desire to shake the twig and complain about how it feels for us older ladies, I opted instead to concede. "I know exactly how you feel", I said with a grin.

We stood alone in the washroom for another second, and with a flick of her hair she darted off. As I took a moment to stare at my own reflection in the mirror, I couldn't help but smile. It dawned on me that she must have thought I was give-er take the same age. If she only knew that 5 minutes before heading to the ladies room myself, my friends and I had just finished griping about all the college kids in the bar!