Life As Per Melanie

I'm scared.

2012-01-27T08:39:00.000-08:00

I'm scared because I'm 31 and I haven't done half of the things I wanted to do. I'm scared because I'm 31 and sometimes I feel like I'm 60. I'm scared to grow up and lose my child’s innocence. But I'm even more scared to stop growing up and stagnate to the same level over and over again.

I'm scared to dream too much. I'm scared that my dreams are too big and that reality might never catch them up. I'm scared to wake up 50 and realized that I only been dreaming my life. I'm scared that my dreams might be in vain. But sometimes it seems easier to think that I can change my star than to admit that all my dreams are vain. So I get scared to give up.

I'm scared that life will win over me. I'm scared to give reasons to all the persons who were telling me to get back down to earth. I'm scared to hear "I told you so." I'm scared to keep trying but never make it.

I'm scared because I need everything to be amazing and because I can't satisfy myself with ok. But I'm even more scared that striking for amazing get worst then handling ok. I'm scared to satisfy myself with little and become my own shadow, but I'm scared of wanting too much and never reach it. I'm scared to lose what I had built but I'm scared to lock myself in a safe.

I'm scared of war and violence. But I'm even more scared of my own violence. I get so overwhelmed toward our society that rage invades my heart without me been able to stop it. I'm scared to be a dreamer and die in disillusions, but I'm scared to stop believing that this world can be a better place.

I'm scared to say what I think sometimes in the fear of hurting people but I'm scared to become hypocrite. I'm scared to be wrong but I'm scared to be right about the ugliness. I'm scared that myself can't be enough sometime for some people. I'm scared of that feeling that make you feel incompetent toward people because you see them bigger than they are. I'm scared of what people think of me but I'm even more scared of living through others people’s minds and opinions. I'm scared to lose myself trying to fit in this world. I'm scared to be different and myself but I'm even more scared to be someone else.

I'm scared about tomorrow because it's coming too soon and I'm scared of yesterday because I did mistake I can’t repair. I scared to have regrets but I'm more scared to have remorse. I'm scared to never forget my past and I'm scared to mess up my future.

I'm scared to go unnoticed but I'm scared to be under the spot light. I'm scared to be happy because I keep thinking it’s too good to be true and that it will eventually blow right off in my face. And I'm scared to be unhappy because it might never end.

I'm scared to disappoint my friend and my love ones but I'm even more scared to disappoint myself. I'm scared to be betrayed and sometimes I’m scared to trust. I'm scared to be played though I'm playing people sometime unconsciously. I'm scared to get lost in my pain or worst to become arrogant with success.

I'm always in between two. I'm scared of black and I'm scared of white but I got no grey zone.

I’m scared to be a bad person. I’m scared to get hurt and to hurt. I'm scared to let people know I'm vulnerable. I'm scared that the words “I love you” become habit and words like any others. I'm scared to forget to say thank you. I'm scared to neglect my love ones. I'm scared to become selfish. I'm scared that my friends forget I love them. I'm scared that my dad might be ashamed of me one day. I'm scared to be only a photo in a picture frame for my nieces and nephews. I'm scared to be like my mom. I'm so scared to be like her and that my son might hate me one day.

I'm scared of racist because it’s destroying our world. I'm scared of indifference. I'm scared to judge and be judge. I'm scared of where this world is going. I'm scared to forget all the pain human being been through but I'm scared to get depressed and paranoid about it. I'm scared of injustice but I'm scared of too much freedom. I'm scared. I'm just scared and I can't help myself. I think that life scared the shit out of me sometimes!

Politically correct equals being hypocrite too often!

2012-01-19T13:00:00.000-08:00

First, I must say that I will be everything but politically correct in this blog. So for those who rather close their eyes than face the truth because it’s not as cute as they would want, you may want to skip this blog.

I'm just a bit tired about the volunteer blindness toward life and realities. For me being politically correct, end up 95% of the time being hypocrite. And the biggest lies and the ones we tell ourselves.

I hate it when I hear "Physical appearance is not important, it’s what's inside that count." I'm sorry but it is important. Come on, the first impression that people get of you is what you look like. If you are dirty, well there's a good chance that you will be dirty at home and in your daily life. If you can't put any effort on yourself well how can I expect you to put effort in anything or anybody else?

It's a fact, when I see someone on the street or in a bar, or anywhere else for that matter, I don't see his amazing sense of humor or his friendly personality; I see his physique. And that's what most likely will decide me to talk or not to that person. I will agree with all of you who are going say, "Some people will become really beautiful once you know them." That's true. I’ll give you that. When it's the friend of a friend or the guy/girl from work because in those circumstances, the personality will quickly comes into play and will change your perspective. But if you are honest with yourself, you would have never spoken to half of those people without having first been introduced by a third party. It's just a fact. It's human instinct.

If you put five guys in front of me and tell me to choose with which one I want to go for a coffee, without knowing them at all, I will go for the cutest one. I think it's just natural. It might be an error but I will still go for it. Come on, if I can have the full package deal (cute and intelligent) why not give it a try. That cute guy might lost all his sex appeal the minute he’ll open his mouth, and I might have had a better time with that more average looking guy, but a fact remain, I would have gone for the cute guy first.

I think you are a liar and a hypocrite if you tell me that instinctively you would go for the little chubby in jogging pants with glasses. People are so desperate to look like a nice person but pretending doesn’t make you look nice it's just makes you a liar.

Don't get me wrong; I'm not that superficial. I am not saying that women must be a size 0 and dress up with top brand clothes to be sexy and beautiful. Quite the opposite, I think Queen Latifah is one of the most beautiful women out there and she is far from a size 0. I don’t think that every man must have a six-pack to look good either. But I believe in a minimum of self-respect and self-care.

I am just honest. I'm talking about the first impression and there's nothing that you can say that would change the fact, that the first thing everyone see about you is your physique. Then, if you're the guy/girl at work or the friend of a friend, you will have the chance to show your amazing sense of humor and your fantastic personality, and we might fall in love, get married, have children and the house in the 450. But can we all agree that it's not the personality that we see first. Love at first sight!!! Here you go, sight, not personality, not sense of humor: sight! Simply and only sight. The rest comes after. It might be sad but that's the truth, so let just face it.

Another thing that I hate to hear "Sex is not important in a relationship." Sorry, it's a huge part of it. That's the difference between your best friend and your partner. Your partner is suppose to be your best friend with options, so if there's no option, well sorry, but for me, you are friends not lovers. It would be like having a Ferrari but never drive faster than 50km/h. No, to get you kick with your Ferrari you need to drive it 150km/h on the highway.

Then there’s the people who says, "I would love you no matter what, even if you were totally poor and living on the street." Yeah right! That's cute in a movie or in a song, but can we all admit that reality is a bit different. The successful businessman will rarely go out with the cashier at Mcdo. And this doesn’t mean he is superficial, it just mean that we mingle with people that share our interest, ambition and passion. It’s part of the life’s rhythm. It’s easier to go along when you are on the same beat.

I hate that me saying those things makes me sound superficial, self-center and bother line discriminatory. I don’t believe that thinking those things without saying it makes you a better person. Quite the opposite, shouldn’t honestly prevail over looking good to the public eye.

It’s so sad. You can’t say anything anymore without the fear of being catalog superficial, disrespectful and sometime even being suit. There are so many associations to protect everyone and anybody “rights”. It would be a good thing if it wasn’t taken so lightly and people were not abusing it. Here’s the thing: you can’t please everybody. People don’t realize that by fighting for their rights, sometimes they remove someone else rights. How is that fair? But shut, we can’t say that because then we are call racist, discriminatory and worst.

I can’t say Merry Christmas anymore because it’s not politically correct for those who don’t celebrate Christmas. Here’s an idea: let me believe in Santa as I let you believe in any of your God.

As a francophone, I can’t say that I don’t give a damn that the new Montreal Canadian’s coach only speak English because it’s an insult to my roots. I should be screaming loud and clear that we are in Quebec and that French should be mandatory.

I can’t say that I don’t like Celine Dion because she worked so hard to be where she is and she’s from Quebec so she should be my pride and joy. Furthermore, I’ll be call jealous.

I can’t say that my friend is black. No she’s African American or a visible minority. Maybe it’s just me but I would rather being call black if that’s what I am than a visible minority. That’s sound a lot more discriminatory to me!

I have friends from all groups of ages, nationalities, religions and sexual orientation. They are all different and unique in their own way. I speak two languages and I love Christmas but to be politically correct, I should say happy holidays, don’t use the word short, tall, chubby, fat, old, young, black, yellow or orange, don’t mention any religions, languages or sexual orientations, and praise everything from Quebec because that’s where I was born. Basically, I should wear blinkers like horses do, keep a tunnel vision and make sure I don’t deviate from the public opinion. God forbids, I would have an opinion of my own and express it!

Yeah I don’t think so. Now I can hear some of you screaming to scandal; calling me superficial or bitch. I guess it’s a question of point of view. I’ll wear the suit if it makes you feel better, but at least I am honest and I am not hiding myself behind that pre-made politically correct image to look good to your eyes. I assume myself and my thoughts, and if more people could to do that, we could avoid a lot of disillusions in life.

Are hopes and dreams crueler than what they seem?

2012-01-12T13:28:00.000-08:00

People say that dreams and hopes are what keep you alive. I tend to agree to that statement; without dreams and hopes, what do you have to look for? But sometime I wonder if dreams don’t also kill you softly. It's just that some dreams are so big and amazing that life just can't compare to them.

Wanting more is a good thing because it makes you surpass your limits, but it can get depressing when the things that you want, are things on which you have no control. And that's my problem. I want things that I don't have control over. And I hate that feeling of helplessness inside me. If you want a house, it’s doable. You can work harder, put some money aside and eventually you will be able to buy that house. But what if you want to have a career in music or to be a writer, what do you do? It's not up to you. No matter how are hard you work. No matter to how many doors you will knock. No matter if you never give up. None of the above guarantees that it will work one day. It's a dream that might or might not come true. It's only a hope that someone will notice you and give you that chance. Only the hope to be at the right place at the right time.

Always awaiting for a sign and recognition is killing me, but at the same time I can’t let go. I get so scared; what if those five minutes I give up were actually the five minutes that I had been waiting for all my life, the five minutes that would make everything real, the five minutes where a door will finally open for me. It’s so hard to keep going sometime. You get so many doors slammed into your face. Most people don’t even bother to open the door at all. One look in the peephole to confirm that you are a “nobody” and they turn their back on you without a second thought.

Writing is all I know and all I ever wanted. I can’t give up the dream of having my name on a music album. It’s always there in the back on my mind nagging me. Every song I hear on the radio reminds me that it could be me. But it’s a vicious circle for a lyricist, you can’t get a song out to an artist without an editor but you can’t get an editor without having a song out!

I won’t give up my dream to get my books publish either, but the math are not on my side. Agents and publishers received hundreds of submission a week and in average they accept between 1 to 3% new writer.

So it all comes back to being there at the right place and the right time. Believe and never give up. But that’s easier said than done because there’s no time frame, it might happen tomorrow, in a week, a month, in ten years or maybe never. You just don’t know.

People don't understand what it is like. It’s not the attraction of fame. It’s more like a rip, a birth stain or a brand on your skin. It just won’t go away. It’s a need inside of you that you can’t shut down. It’s a part of you no matter how hard you try to change it. There are days that I wish so hard that I didn't have all those dreams in my head. I wish I could see my dreams like a bonus to my life. But for me it's a need. It feels like I'm only surviving now while I am waiting for my dreams to bring me to life. It’s like if 90% of my life is in my head and I wonder sometime if it will get out of there.

I also wonder why so many dreams if they are not going to come true. Why all this talent if I can’t exploit it? This question is killing me. Can life be that bitch? Is she having a blast at teasing me like this? If I wasn't sure that I could do it, then I would turn the page, but I feel it so deep inside me that this is who I’m supposed to be.

Everyone wants recognition for what they are and do. The surgeon wants to be recognized as a good surgeon by his peers. The mother wants to be recognized as a good mother by her child. The secretary as a good secretary by her boss and so on. I want to be recognized too. I know my friends recognized me as a good friend, my dad as a good daughter, my goddaughter as a good aunt, my husband as a good wife and I am sure my little man think I am a super mom, but I am missing the recognition for my work. And I am not talking about that 9 to 5 job that pay the bills. I got no self-satisfaction at being good over there. There is no challenge and no ambition in that job. I want to be recognized for my writing. I want to be recognized for my passion, for what makes me happy.

So all I have to hold on to are my hopes and dreams but sometime I really wonder if life would be easier if I didn’t have them.

Grown-up disillusions

2012-01-07T12:12:00.000-08:00

Wouldn't it be great if we could keep our kid’s innocence once we grow up?

I miss the time when I was not aware of all the horror and ugliness of this world. I miss the time when the only occasions I was crying for was because my dad wouldn't give me a candy or because I fell on the floor running too fast. I miss the time when I was blind to racist, illegality, prejudices and violence.

I remember when I was a kid I used to think that life was so beautiful. Seriously, discovering the world and all its wonders but none of its cruelties. I look at my son and everything he sees is a wonder to him. He discovers colors, animals, sounds and he's just amazed. He has no worry what so ever (except that I run out of milk!) He’s just happy.

I remember that no one cared if you were white, black or yellow. As long as you knew how to play tag and had Barbie's or GI-Joe we were friends. But then we grew up and all the sudden we have to explain the color of your skin. No one cared about your religion. It was the last of our concerns. All we were thinking about was playing. Jewish, catholic or protestant, you had a Nintendo at home and we were in business. Now somehow the same kids would meet today at 30 years old and they would fight.

I remember that when I was young things were simple. We would ride our bikes to the park and play until our parents call us for dinner. It was short and sweet. We called each other, meet somewhere and have fun. But then you grow up and realized that it's not enough to have friends. You need time and money, because god knows every move you take cost something. To top it up, you have to match your schedule, which is getting harder and harder with that new trend of 24/7 business. Everyone got a different schedule.

When you are a kid you see life so differently. I remember I would have a fight with my friend, screamed, "You're not my friend anymore," and cried, ran back to my place, but by the next morning we were friends again. We had forgotten the whole thing. Now we fight and dream of revenge. We plan how to hurt and humiliate the other one as worst as we can. No one wants to say sorry, too much ego to admit we are wrong.

When I was a kid I didn't know war existed. I wasn’t aware we were destroying our planet. I didn't know how it felt to be scared of tomorrow. I didn't know the air we breathe might be dangerous. I didn't know the water we drink had to be disinfected. I didn't know we were always under the treat of a new war.

Kids don't have any meanness or cruelty inside. They just have animal instinct. They are sad: they cry. They are mad: they scream. But once it's done it’s done and that's it. I miss that. I wish we could do that as adult. I just miss being a kid!

SORRY

2012-01-07T12:10:00.000-08:00

Sorry for my absence of the last couple of months but it has been a real roller coaster with my son starting teething, my husband starting a new job and the holidays.
I promise to try to keep on track for 2012!
Thanks for hanging on with me.

The Offended Virgin

2011-10-27T08:48:00.000-07:00

I went to Wal-Mart yesterday and saw that girl dressed up like she was going clubbing. As she walked in, the greater looked her up and she got all offended. She gave him a dirty look and barked a not-so-polite “What?” at him. The poor man looked down almost ashamed and I felt for the man because to me he didn’t do anything wrong. If you dress up that provocative, you should expect to attract attention.

It reminded me of a story a few years back. I was at work smoking a cigarette with some friends, when this girl, from work as well, joined us. She was wearing this skirt that actually look more like a big belt, a tiny tank top that you wonder if they went out of fabric while doing it and some “fuck me boots”. So one of the guys with me asked her, “Where are you going out tonight?” She looked all surprised and said, “No where why?” Because you look like a clubbing whore, but I kept that thought to myself. So the same guy, explained himself saying that she was a bit over dress up for work. (I actually thought she was underdressed, but I guess that’s a question of point of view.) She switched off completely, going on and on about the fact that she was allowed to be sexy even at work and that her look today was nothing special. So the boys’ talk began. “Oh come on girl, you are indeed sexy but also really provocative, you look ready for a hot night.” “Yeah when my girlfriend dresses like this I know I will have some fun that night.” She started to loose it; screaming she was a bright girl and not only a body, that men were all the same, only thinking about sex. I had kept my mouth shut until then but I couldn't help myself anymore.

“What did you expect? You have to assume yourself girl. You wear a skirt that show half of your ass and don't want guys to look at it? Your breast is winking at them beneath what you call a tank top and you don't expect guys to answer the invitation? Your entire look say, “Fuck me right here,” and you get offended that guys think about actually doing it. I got some news for you, good girl don't dress like bitches and vice versa. So if you want to be the good bright girl like you said, wear a turtleneck!!! Other wise assume yourself and stop playing the offended virgin.” She called us a bunch of jerks and losers and left.

Okay, I admit it; we went a bit hard on her, but God someone had to tell her. Wake up and face who you are. I find it annoying. It’s like who are you kidding here. The whole point of showing off is that people look at you. So if you show your ass well we are going look at it. Now if you can't handle it, dress differently. End of story.

It's like last year I saw an interview with Britney Spears and she was going on and on about the fact that men look at her like a piece of meat. Okay girl, you made a video nearly naked with 10 guys, moaning and rubbing your ass on their crotch singing “I'm a slave for you,” and you tell me you didn't see it coming!

I just hate it. If you want to be bitch or provocative, be it, but assumed it. And beside there's a difference between sexy and slut. It's a question of arrangement. Wear your fuck-me-boots but with a longer skirt. You can wear you tiny tank top but with a nice pair of jeans. You can even wear that belt skirt of yours but with a t-shirt maybe and not at work! But if you are one of those who plead the free expression and scream high and loud that you're allowed to wear whatever you want, fine, it's true. But remember, we are also allowed to think that you're a bitch!

Does Einstein should have been ashamed to be a genius?

2011-10-19T14:34:00.000-07:00

A couple of weeks back I was in line at the grocery’s store. There was a young couple in front of me. The girl was flipping through the page of People magazine when she came across an article about Angelina Jolie. The guy said Angelina was hot. The girl’s answer shocked me and, I must admit, upset me.

"Yes but she got no credit because she was born like this. It’s easy to have a life when you are so beautiful. She would be absolutely no one without her ass. I hate those people because they are not even a bit ashamed of what they have. They take everything and don't think about people that don't have their chance."  

I had to fight really hard no to jump into the conversation and tell her what an idiot I thought she was. Seriously, am I the only one who sees the wrong in her remark? Why should Angelina feel ashamed of anything? She's beautiful and proud what's wrong with that? We are already ashamed of our faults and now we should be ashamed of our qualities. Being beautiful is just an extra to all she does. Why should we remove her credit because she was born beautiful?

I don’t get it. Does that mean that Einstein doesn't deserve any credit because he was born a genius? Does that mean that Picasso and Beethoven should have been ashamed of being gifted?

Come on, give the girl a break. We all work with what we have. Some are born beautiful, some with intelligence, some with talent, some with a bit of all and some with the full package deal. I wouldn't apply for engineering’s job because I know I don't have the competencies to do it. You just have to accept yourself and your limits, and if your limits annoy you well it’s up to you to change them.

The goal in life is to bring yourself to a higher level not to bring down everyone to your level so that you feel better. I'm not going to wear jogging-pants just in case that I might offend the girl that doesn't have nice legs if I wear a nice skirt. If you want my legs: workout for it. Should I start to look like crap just in case I meet a girl that does so that she doesn't feel bad about herself? I'm not going be ashamed to be beautiful, just like I'm not going be ashamed to excel at my work while some don't. Let me give you a dose of painful truth, hating all the girls with a nice ass won’t make yours smaller!

I don’t mean any disrespect to anyone. I don’t believe you have to be Angelina Jolie or a size 1 to be beautiful, quite the opposite but I do believe that if your are a size 14 and you are unhappy about it, the solution is not to hate the size-1-girl but to workout. Same rule applies if you don’t excel, as you would like at work; work harder but don’t hate me for getting a promotion or a better job than you.

In what kind of world we’ll live in if we have to be ashamed of our qualities and assets? I’ll tell you, a pretty sad one.

If there was no tomorrow...

2011-10-13T12:20:00.001-07:00

Sometime I wonder, if there was no tomorrow would I act differently? The truth? Definitely! Why? Because there would be no consequences. Because tomorrow is just the consequences of today right? Consequences are what hold us back because we fear them and we are not ready to deal with them. So we hold back today to make sure that tomorrow won’t hurt.

 So if there was no tomorrow, would I leave my 9 to 5 work to strike for my dreams? Hell yes! Why? Because money wouldn't matter anymore. I wouldn't have a mortgage to worry about and bills to pay anymore.

If there was no tomorrow, would I learn forgiveness? I guess. Why? Because I wouldn't be able postponed to later. I wouldn't think that I still have time. There wouldn't be better time than now.

If there was no tomorrow, would I take out my savings and travel around the world. Damn straight I would! Why? Because there wouldn’t be any use for saving so I might enjoys life and every penny I have.

Think about it. If there was no tomorrow, would you tell that guy/girl you've been fancying him/her for months? Of course you would! Why? Because if the last thing you could hear on this planet was him/her telling you he/she likes you too, how fantastic that would be? But more important, if he/she don't fancy you at all, there would be no consequences. You wouldn't have to face him/her tomorrow. You wouldn't feel like crap and rejected. It would be just one done deal, something out of your system.

If there was no tomorrow risks would become chances because there wouldn’t be consequences. So without consequences there is no risk, just the chance to makes things better.

A friend once told me that I should live every minute imagining death was behind a door waiting for me. He asked me if I would leave peacefully if death was to take me right now, if I would have regrets. I realized I would have a bunch of regrets because I was holding back so much. He said it was better to live with remorse than regrets.

I must say, what he told stuck into my mind and never left me after that day. I am not saying to go crazy and irresponsible. Of course, you need some savings but maybe you need some treats from time to time. All the saving in the world wont do you any good if you are not there to enjoy it. Keep your 9 to 5 jobs but make sure you allow yourselves some time to live your dreams and your passions. They might not pay your rent or mortgage but there will surely, in the long run, make a big difference in your quality of life and happiness.

I think what I am saying to you is don’t be so afraid to think outside of the box or treat yourselves. Strike for your dreams and what makes you happy because even if it doesn’t turn out as you would have wished, at least you will know. You wont spend your old days wondering what life would have been if you I told that girl/guy you love her/him. You wont wonder what would have happen if you would have written that book you always dreamed about or start that small business you wanted. Find a balance between the security you need to maintain your daily life and the risk you can take to make your dreams come true.

Hospitals: they take your pride away!

2011-09-30T12:39:00.000-07:00

Been to a hospital lately? For your pride and ego, I hope not. I had heard some stories, some that even made me laugh, but I guess until you experience it yourself, you don’t really know just how humiliating it can be.

One of my friends had told me about this wheelchair with a hole in the seat. The concept of that Oh-so-special-chair is that the nurse sits you butt-naked on it and wheels you over the toilet to do your business. That’s where the hole comes handy! Anyway, the image made me laugh. I wasn’t laughing so much though when I had to be accompanied to the bathroom last July and that I had to have the nurse help me wipe my ass.

It’s always funnier when it happens to others. My husband is having a blast every time he recalled my stay at the hospital. Most of my friends think my story is hilarious. So here it is. If it can make people smile, I guess it’s worth the little embarrassment.

It was the day my son was born. He was a C-Section so it was scheduled and we had to stay at the hospital four days. We got to the hospital at 8am, although we were just schedule for 1pm. I had to be “prep” was what they said. Oh and did they prep me!

First, they made me put on that awful blue gown and walk around butt naked to my room. Well it wasn’t even my room; it was my waiting room! Here we were, my husband and I, thinking that we would slowly get settle in our room, watch TV or read a book until 1pm. How innocent were we!!!

So in that waiting room I was seen by a succession of nurses, doctors and interns, all less shy than one another. Okay, I know it’s their jobs and that they see naked people every day, all day long, but hey, I don’t get naked in front of strangers everyday and that should be taken into consideration. I believe they think that giving their names and status make it okay because they all start the same way: “ Hi my name is Blah Blah Blah and I am your nurse/doctor/ interns for the day.” After that up to your neck goes the blue gown and your butt is exposed to the world. So I was there, naked and petrified that five people saw me naked in the last hour, but they casually asked me all those health’s questions and it would have never occurred to them to lower back my gown once they were done.

They all left and I finally thought I was having a break until the procedure when this nurse came in. The blue gown was up again after she stated her name. “ Oh dear, we have to shave you,” she said. My face must have worth a million bucks because my husband burst into laughter.

I have no intention to be graphic but here’s the thing; when you are nine months pregnant, shaving can be a challenge because, well lets face it, you don’t see yourself there! Still, I have some pride and there was no way I was to go to the hospital unshaven. So the day before I put on a lot work and effort into the attempt of shaving and I really thought I did a good job. I got up on a small stool, surrounded myself by mirror and got to work but apparently all my work and effort were vain because it wasn’t to the nurse standard.

It might seem really silly, but to have someone shave you down there is quite humiliating, especially if you have your husband next to you dying of laughter, “ Oh my God, she is giving you a coupe longueuil!” For those of you who are not from Quebec and have no clue what a coupe longueuil is, well it’s pretty much the equivalent of a mullet. I wanted to strangle him. He even joked and asked the nurse if she could do him next. She giggled. At least they were having fun!

I’ll spare you the details of the actual procedure. So that bring us to about 2 pm. My son is born and healthy and I am in my real room. I am under morphine and can’t feel anything from the waist down. Two nurses come along. “ We are going to wash you.” Oh dear lord, please help me! They lifted me and swung me from side to side, and all the while I couldn’t feel a thing, I sure felt helpless and embarrassed. So I am praying for this to end as quickly as possible and just when I thought that it was over, one of them said, “ If you feel a little discomfort, it’s the suppository.” Here goes my husband laughing again. Oh, he did try to hold his laughter to be supportive but it didn’t quite work. Hearing someone holding back their laughter is probably worst than hearing them laugh out loud.

At that point, we are up to about fifteen persons who saw me naked which might be more than in my entire adult life. I am about to die of shyness and I got my pride stuck mid-throat. But my journey wasn’t over yet.

I had no intention to breastfeed but I let myself been convinced that I should at least give my son the colostrum (some kind of milk that come out right after birth and help protecting your baby from infection.) The thing is, my son wouldn’t feed from my breast. “ It’s not a problem,” the oldest nurse said, “ we can extract it.” And before I knew it I had two pairs of hands on my breast trying to extract milk in a little cup. I was so shocked that I just froze and let them do their business. More people had saw me naked and hold my breast in one day than in my whole life. That can be normal, yet I couldn’t do anything about it.

The next day I woke up, all happy because I assumed I would finally be functional and that I would be able to attend my own business without the help of anyone but my husband. Well let me tell you that I was wrong again. I was set for a few more little discomfort because apparently medication works its way better by suppositories and I was also instructed to call a nurse if I needed to go to the bathroom.

Thank God, they didn’t have the Oh-so-special-wheelchair mentioned by my friend but still I had to be accompanied to the bathroom, trailing my IV behind me. I was just lucky I got a private room with a bathroom.

So I get to the bathroom. I can’t even pull down my underwear (yeah I finally had the right to put them back on). So humiliating. “I’ll be right outside the door,” the nurse said. Well that was it; knowing she was there, I just couldn’t pee. I felt so silly when I had to called her back and tell her it didn’t work. “I thought you had to go.” “Yeah so did I!” She pulled back up my underwear and helped me wobble back to my bed. Thirty minutes later, when there was no way I could hold it in any longer, I called her again.

All smile, she brought me back to the bathroom, pulled down my underwear and secured me on the bowl. They might not have had the special wheelchair but they had the pee-sample-retrieval-bucket, which consists into a little plastic bucket attach to the inside of the toilet for you to pee in. The bucket is small and I hadn’t peed in 24 hours. (I had a catheter.) Not a good combination. The nurse is yet again outside the door, this time cheering me. Yeah for real, she literally cheered me. It didn’t matter how shy I was, that time I couldn’t hold it in. But not only couldn’t I hold it in, I couldn’t stop it either. I felt like I peed forever and all I could think of was: “Please don’t overflow the stupid bucket. Please don’t overflow the bucket!” The last thing I needed was to cover myself with pee and needed to be wash again. I thankfully stopped one millimeter short and prevent the overflow.

Those are only the first 24 hours of my stay and I spared you some details. Let me tell you that when I walked out of the hospital four days later, there was no pride left in me. So my advice for you: if you have to go to the hospital, be prepared. You can afford to be proud or prude!

Difference in Perception

2011-09-19T09:13:00.000-07:00

A while back, I went to see a show. One sentence caught my attention and since then I can't stop thinking about it. This guy said, "When you interact with someone, there is three things to take into consideration: what you want to say or do, what you actually say or do and what the other person really understand."

It's stuck into my mind because it's so true. Everyone has a different perception of things. We all feel things differently. Sometime we don't express ourselves the way we would want to and our sayings or actions are taken the wrong way. Sometime we do it to be polite, sometime because we don't want to hurt our friends or because it's the right thing to say at that moment.

This guy gave a funny example but I could relate to it so much that it made me laugh. He said, "It’s like when someone come with a new look, a haircut or new clothes, and asks you how you like it and you answer: ‘It's a style’. In your head you might think that it’s ugly like hell but the other person understand that she has style and it’s all good. You might think that it's actually really nice but the other person thinks that you are sarcastic. Or maybe you think that it’s ugly and the person understand that you don't like it or vice versa if you think it nice. The problem is that you never really know."

My friends with me at the show laughed so much because they all recognized me. All my friends know now that if I tell you, "Well it's a style " It really mean that I think it’s ugly.

But anyway that's just one funny example but it can apply to everything in your life because we all see thing differently and because things have a different meaning to each of us.

Once I had an interview for a job and at the end of the interview the woman told me, "Thanks for coming it was nice meeting you. The only problem is that this time I only have good candidates who applied. It will be hard." I took it the wrong way. I understood that I was Nice but that all the other candidates were Good. So for me, it really meant: “Read between the line. You wont get it " Especially, that I was the first person they passed in interview. I thought to myself: "She haven't meet them yet and she already thinks they are good!!" I got out of this interview so depressed. But hey surprise, surprise! Four days later she came to me to offer me the job and told me: "We were so impressed by you after you left the interview that we kept comparing every other candidates to you and in the end no one could made us change our mind. You are our first choice no doubt. Welcome to the team!!" I was on shock. I really didn't expect that. When I started my new job, I told her how I felt about what she said and she was on shock too. She said that she never meant it the way I understood it. By her saying all the candidates were good, she assumed that I would understand that I was good too. So I stressed and depressed for absolutely nothing. Contrary of what I thought, I had made an amazing impression on her. She meant to make me a compliment and I took it as a fault. Funny how we can perceive things!

It’s like in relationships. You can lead people to believe things without you knowing or wanting it because you analyze things with our own vision and don’t realize others might have a different vision.

About 5-6 years ago, I got this guy who tried to make a move on me. When I told him I was not into him that way, he told me I was just a tease and that I did everything to lead him on. I was confused and asked him what on earth I had done because I honestly didn’t know. It was a guy from work and we used to do the same shift. We also lived really close to each other, so he offered me to pick me up in the morning and drop me at night. For me, it was so innocent and also just really logic. We did the same ride everyday, why not do it together? We split our expenses in two, we had company; that made so much sense to me. For me, it was all friendly and didn't mean anything more. But for him, offering me that was a way to get closer to me. Therefore, he thought that by me accepting his offer it meant that I wanted to get closer too. We also had our lunch together. So once again, for me, it was just logic. Why would I go sit at the opposite side of the cafeteria when we can sit together and chat? “That's what friends do,” I thought. In his head, he was thinking that he would never spent so much time with someone unless he is interested, so he assumed that I was. I ended up looking like a bitch that played him all along but I never meant that. He saw in my actions a potentially future girlfriend and I saw in him a really good friend.

I am the kind of person who worries way too much about things. Sometime, I will do something and feel really stupid about it. I will think about it for days, replay it in my head over and over again and feel like crap. So I will hide from whoever witnessed my “Stupidity”. But the truth is that 95% of the time that person did not even notice what I did, didn't think much about it or simply forgot about it 5 minutes later.

I've been told that I'm intimidating and even sometime that I look arrogant, which is so far from what I am. I am insecure in so many ways. I act the way I do to protect myself most of the time. I am scared to get hurt, so I built that shell. Now I realized by listening to people around me, that it makes me look cold. One of my friend told me that when he first met me he would have never dare do the first step because he thought I would have turn him down big time. Meanwhile, I had the same feeling about him; I didn't think I was cool enough to talk to him. So here again it's the same story. Sometime what you think and the way you express it are two different things and it can alter what other people might think of you.

The problem is that something so obvious for you can go totally unnoticed to someone else, important things for you can be meaningless for others and vice versa.

There is so many meaning to every little thing life that sometime it gets hard to find people who think like you. Much more that you can never know in advance. You might think you are on the same mind track but until you really get to know someone you’ll never really know. You can frequent someone for months and even years, like at work, and you will never really know what he or she thinks.

But I guess that's what makes friendship or love so special. When you get to the point that you understand the other person the right way without a doubt in your mind, it means that your relationship is true.

Existential questions

2011-09-09T12:49:00.000-07:00

Ever watched a movie that left you totally in awe but yet, also totally confused about yourself because it brought existential questions that you couldn’t quite face or answer? I did and even today, I am still not sure I can answer those questions. I keep having a fight between my conscience and instinct. Picture me as one of those cartoon’s characters with a little angel on one shoulder and a little evil on the other, each trying to win me over to their side, and you will have a pretty good idea of how I feel.

I don't know if you guys know the movie “ Return to Paradise ” but if you don't it's a must. It’s really deep and emotional. It might leave you feeling helpless, but it’s so good in a twisted way. In short, it’s the story of three guys traveling to Malaysia. They buy some weed and then at the end of the trip one of them decides to stay a bit longer while the two other ones return to NYC. The one staying keeps the weed with him. A week later he gets caught with it. As per Malaysian laws, due to the amount of weed in his possession, he is considered a drug dealer and will face the death row. Though, if his two friends come back and share the blame, they would each serve five years or if only one of the two comes back they will each serve ten years.

After you see that movie you can help but ask yourself: “Would I go back?" , " Am I willing to give up five or ten years of my life and leave my love ones behind me to go in a Malaysian’s prison? " I couldn’t answer the first time around and as we speak now, I still don’t have an answer. If it was in Canada, I like to believe that I would go back. You can never say for sure unless you are face with the decision but I can say in all honesty that I would truly consider it to save my friend. But a Malaysian’s prison, it's a whole different story. My first instinct scream, “NO WAY!” But then comes the other question: " Would I be able to live with myself knowing that my friend die because of me? " I don't know what would be worst: the after-effects a stay in a Malaysian’s prison could leave me with or living with the death of a friend on my conscience for the rest of your life. I am still unable to take position so I made a deal with my friends; if we ever travel together; no one is to do anything illegal! That way I’ll never have to take that decision.

Next, " Life of David Gale " which I guess all of you knows. The question being: " Would I die for my beliefs? ". For me, it's a bit extremist, but at the same time, a little voice saying, “If no one acts, things will never change or evolve." keeps nagging me. After all, most of humanity’s biggest achievements were obtained because someone stood up and put his/her life on the line. Again, the little angel and evil are fighting over my shoulders. Why me? Why should I be the one? But then I'm thinking am I selfish? Looking at every angle I have to admit that I am not willing to die for my beliefs. My own survival’s instincts prevail on my instinct to protect human race. Sad? Weak? Coward? Maybe, I am still not sure. When I look at myself in a mirror, I tell myself that not everybody can be a hero. So far it worked to keep me in peace with myself.

Next controversial movie on my list: “ A Time to Kill ”. We all asked ourselves at some point of time if it’s right to seek our own justice. I used to say that if you kill a killer you become one yourself since you are doing exactly the same thing you want to condemn him for. Now that I am a mother, I can’t defend that argument as strongly as before because when I look at my little man and imagine anyone hurting him, I know deep inside that there is nothing in this world that could stop me to hunt down and torture the sick bastard who would have dare to touch one hair of my son. Would it be right? Absolutely not but it would be forgivable. Sure the world would be a heck of a mess if everyone was to go ahead avenge him or herself, but no matter how much I try, I can’t condemn them as easy as before. Things are not so black and white anymore. Having a child brought a whole new grey zone in my life and my vision of it.

Those are only three examples of movies that left me very pensive and perplexed about myself but I think I stirred enough questions for one day. I’ll give my mind a little break, but I’d love to have your opinions and I’d love to know what movies made you pensive?

Nice to meet you.

2011-08-30T14:40:00.000-07:00

My name is Melanie, which I guess my blog’s title has made obvious already. I am a proud new mother of a little man and I love to write. That pretty much resumes my life. Okay, it’s a little exaggeration but yet not so far from the truth.

Having a baby changed my life and takes a lot of my time, and writing has always been a significant part of my life so now I juggle both and I have never felt that accomplished in my life.

But for conversation sake and because it’s always nice to know who we are dealing with, I will tell you a little more about me. I am a 30-years-old francophone from Montreal, Canada who got suck into the English’s world through the force of work, friends, and movies and books. (They always come out in English first!) Strangely, I found a freedom in English’s writing that I couldn’t reach in French so I started to write strictly in English. That said, I will never forget or deny my French’s roots, beside they give me a good excuse for my little grammar and syntax’s errors!

I'm happily married for a little over a year now and hope to keep the happiness going for a long time, not to use the cheesy word forever. I have a good 9 to 5’ job that pays the bills, have two older brothers, six nieces and nephews, a group of cherished friends that I can count on the fingers of one hand (but who needs more?) and I could probably describe myself in one single word: passion.

Okay, I might be flirting with cheesiness again but the truth is the truth. I get passionate about everything that I do. And when I say everything I mean everything. Whether it’s doing my job or a sport activity, defend a friend or a point of view, fight for my rights or just with my husband; I do all those with passion. Some might say I graze obsession and it would be a hard one for me to argue.

I am what you call a bookworm. Seriously, I read every day and believe that a day without reading is a wasted day. But sometime it gets to the point that I am so enthrall by stories that I get mad and pout the author for weeks or months if he dares to kills one of my favorite character or if the story line don’t go as I want to! I refused to read Harry Potter for three months after J.K. Rowling killed the character of Sirius Black because he was one of my favorites. I had imagined so many outcomes and developments for his character that I felt she let me down by killing him. Of course, curiosity got the best of me after a while, and I devoured the rest of the series avidly.

I am also a really opinionated person. I love to argue, critic, defend and share my points of views on things. I take everything to heart. It doesn’t matter if I plead a procedure at work, the monstrosity of a new fashion wave or the right not to give your child Ritalin to register him to school. I will devote myself with the same passion discussing the three subjects.

Then come the writing part of my life. For as long as I can remember, writing have been the most important part of my life. Reading paved the way for me to start writing. Using my imagination and creativity to visualize the various characters and worlds of a book stimulated me to create my own characters and stories. I have to admit that I have a parallel life in my head, as I make up stories, enhance my daily routine and fantasize about glamorous and adventurous journeys. I am my favorite heroine. When I write, I tend to make myself the main character. I create a world or a situation and then, I question myself on how I would react, what my response would be to a given question or quest. It's an extremely enriching process and I often get caught in daydreams about my stories. Writing brings out such amazing feelings in me, that I wonder how others can go without writing.

It started with poetry when I was only 10-years-old –writing poems to my secret cupid– and it grew into an amazing outlet to express my teen’s worries, fears and anxiety by writing essays, letters and lyrics. While I left behind the essays and letters, I kept working hard on my song’s writing. I won a few contest here and there, and I still have the hope on seeing my name on a music album one day. NickleBack would be the absolute dream!

I kept looking and searching for what I would do of my life, thinking that writing couldn’t be it, but no matter where I looked, I kept coming back to writing. Not only do I enjoy writing but also I need it. So I stopped fighting and dived.

I took numerous freelance classes in Creative Writing, Journalism and Print communication at Concordia’s University. I was eager to learn the vast and different avenues of writing, plus I wanted to improve my skill and open my horizons.

I also started to write my first novel; one I had in mind for years, the first tome of a trilogy. I am proud to say that it’s now finished and in editing process and that tome two is almost finished as well!

Until I can find an agent or a publisher who’s willing to dive with me, I have decided to ePublish my book myself. I am presently working on the editing and pagination. I will obviously let you know when it’s available. (So you can tell all your friends !!!)

And now, here I am creating this blog. The idea has been in the back of my mind and has nagged me for quite some time now. Many friends encouraged me to do so but yet again, I didn’t take my writing seriously enough to see potential and a future in it. I found numerous excuses, among which, one of my favorite was, and “I don’t have time.” Well that excuse went right down the drain when I fell on maternity’s leave. True, I have a son that requires a lot of my time but still I have some free time these days. So without any more excuses, I decided to dive for that one too.

Now the question is: why would you read my blog? I am no superstar or famous person. I do not have a specialization or some fancy degrees that give me the expertise to provide advices on a specific subject. I will give you that. What I do have though is the passion for what I do best, which is writing. I was told that I have a special and unique way to tell stories, whether they are others or mine. So the answer is, “ For pure entertainment’s sake!” Come and share my passion, extravagance and sometime craziness.

The goal here is to create a forum where ideas can be share through the medium of writing. I like to talk about any subjects and I love to debate them. Although I rarely change my mind when it’s made up, I am more than willing to listen to someone else arguments. You might not convince me or swing me your way, but I will most likely respect you for your ideas and the fact that you stand by them.

My writing’s subject may vary from serious ones, such as relationships, morals and principles or even death, to more silly and light ones such as holiday or the origin of expression like: “ Cute as button.” (Seriously, I am still trying to figure that one out.) Bottom line, everything that cross my mind, that happens to me, that I witness or that makes the news headline, might trigger a new post. You’ll see life through my eyes, the life as per Melanie!