Why did I not go to Lilith Fair when the festival was the hottest ticket on the planet?
Why did we never go to TIFF, the Toronto International Film Festival, when we lived in DOWNTOWN TORONTO?
Lots of big whys.
We lived downtown from 1993 to 1999 – double income, no kids, a social life, a working life. We liked movies, we liked concerts. Perhaps even back then, we weren’t such fans of crowds.
It is only now, looking back, that I realize that those were pretty iconic events.
TIFF is celebrating its 50th anniversary. With just the two of us during the week and more flexible schedules, we decided at the last minute to catch a matinee showing at TIFF Lightbox. It’s a beautiful building, and no crowds during the day.
It was such fun, a beautiful day, enjoying the city, sunny King street, people out and about, on patios, movie fans galore, no overwhelming gaggles of people.
We watched the feature “I Swear” – a wonderful film, Ian didn’t even need subtitles to decipher the Scottish accents (we laugh, it’s ironic, with his Scottish roots he sometimes finds movies with British/Scottish/Irish accents difficult to understand, while I have no such problems.)
We were hooked from the opening music, also in the trailer:
We noted that TIFF also premiered “Lilith Fair: Building a Mystery,” a documentary about the first all-women’s music festival started by Canadian icon Sarah McLachlan (hmm, Scottish roots too, I just realized) back in the late 1990s. It took the world by storm. I didn’t realize the sheer number of women involved in the whole production, behind the scenes, in front of the scenes. All the fantastic female artists involved, including Sinead O’Connor, Sheryl Crow, Tracy Chapman, the Indigo Girls, Jewel, Dido, Paula Cole, Liz Phair, Suzanne Vega, Natalie Merchant, Chrissie Hynde – so many of my favourites! It was so controversial at the time, but never meant to be. It makes me sad that some things are still the way they are, perhaps even worse in some ways for women these days.
We caught the film at home on CBC GEM just a couple of nights ago.
I guess we were too busy building our own mystery, hyper-focused on work, and from 1997-1999, the years of Lilith, we were focused on building our family.
So here we are 25 years later, we’ve done TIFF, we’ve seen what Lilith was about, and we have our babies.
People tell stories so others don’t feel as lonely.
I heard this being discussed on an episode of Q on CBC. The author and actress Zosia Mamet was being interviewed about her new memoir “Essays: Does this make me funny.”
It made me think about the reason I write, the reason I have started writing a memoir, the reason I blog.
At various points in my life, I have been lonely, very lonely. I have felt very alone.
I am a storyteller. That must be it.
(Tangent …while we’re talking about writing, can I take a moment to ask what the heck is going on with the English language. People making up words. For words that already exist? Have you heard “on accident”? “Oh, I did that on accident.” What is that even? In my world, the phrase is “by accident”. Grammarly even says so. And yet I have heard that on the air and in conversation. The worst I heard the other day… “it was informationable” – I googled it and apparently it IS a real word. But it was used in the context of being “informative”. Call me a writing snob. I can’t help cringing.)
OK, I’m back on track. Loneliness, telling my story to share experiences. If there is one quiet girl out there who doesn’t know where she belongs, who strives to be good enough as she is continually pushed beyond her comfort zone. Who carries scars from bullying and the weight of self-perceived underachievement buried under an outward successful persona.
If she reads my writing and sees herself in my story, then my writing will be worth it.
I haven’t been writing as much as reading. In fact, one of my writer friends suggested I just put down the darn books and get writing if I have writer’s block – so funny. I suppose I read to be inspired to write. An excuse, I know.
Birdie Rhodes, a former model living a quiet life, is thrust back into her past when she receives an invitation to celebrate the 50-year career of famed modeling agent Harriet Golden. Harriet had discovered a young 13-year-old Birdie in a department store, where Birdie was reluctantly shopping with her mother. Birdie was a super tall introvert who slouched to hide as she grew. Ironically she was the most ignored by her parents in an unloving household. Becoming one of Harriet’s girls, she felt a sense of freedom from her sad life, with opportunities for something uniquely hers being provided by Harriet. Glamour, unique outfits, artists, travel – it all unfolds for Birdie. With her parents absent, Harriet is the only adult who watches out for Birdie in some fashion, although it is primarily a professional relationship.
During one of her assignments, a shoot for the album cover of an unnamed “rock star”, Birdie is noticed by this rockstar, who seems to see her, seems to care for her, shows her some real affection for the first time in her life.
The rock star meets with her parents, offers to take her with him on tour and protect her going forward. Her parents (her mother giddily) sign some papers. And Birdie’s life veers into the rock and roll world. Drinks, drugs, parties, money — rock and roll.
She is 15 years old. And now the very public girlfriend of a rock idol in his 30s. This is fully sanctioned by her parents and the world.
This is a heart-rending story of the life of a model who is just yearning for someone to see the real her, to love her. The choices she makes come from that longing, and she continues to be manipulated by most of those around her. She makes so many of these choices before she hits the age of 19. Imagine setting the stage for the rest of your life at that age. There are two timelines in this book, one of the young Birdie as she lived in the that crazy world which she eventually leaves behind. It alternates seamlessly to the present (2018) with a middle-aged Birdie, coming to terms with what she lived through.
I binged this book. Having grown up in that time, I was drawn to the story and wondered what the glamorous life of a model in the MTV era was like. Supermodel stories were based on that lore. I think so many of us young girls wanted that life. This felt like a memoir, a real-life behind-the-scenes written in the first person. Birdie’s innermost thoughts were brought to life so clearly from the page. From the young Birdie to the mature Birdie – I lived her experiences with her, cried for her, and felt redemption for her, which is what you get from a memoir. Amazing that it is fiction.
A solid 4 / 5 stars (about a 4.5) . Highly recommended! Thanks to the author, Netgalley and Harlequin Trade Publishing for an advance readers copy for review.
Just about halfway through September and I have not posted in forever.
So much for upping the game on writing, journalling, blogging – with more free time now, truly an empty nester – I lack the motivation.
I even started reading this wonderful book of writing prompts by Suleika Jaouad – more for journalling, for inspiration as a daily practice.
I dropped the ball after 12 days. I’ve been missing my memoir writing deadlines.
I met with my writers’ group this week, and asked about motivation for writing. Did my friends’ have a writing habit? Did they schedule their writing time? How did they make time for it in their lives, which from what I know are much busier (kids, family). Do they write only when they have inspiration?
I have writer’s block. But my colleague, who spent years in executive coaching and leadership, with a background in psychology, meditation
, all those good things… thinks I have a “life block.”
I think he hit the nail on the head. I’m at a cross roads, something is blocking me. My experience in writing is totally in sync with where I am in life.
Everything is fine, honestly. I am in a good place. But just sorta stuck.
So I found a bit of freedom – one technique suggested was dictation.
Why not dictate my thoughts, my stories, just as they come to me.
So I did just that for a day.
And was amazed, in all its messy, roller-coaster, multi-directional stream of consciousness glory — I ended up with three drafts. They need editing, lots of thoughts in my head.
Like life, it could use some fine tuning. But it’s a start.
What’s your motivation? What do you do when you’re stuck?
It’s 6:42 AM. I’ve finally settled with my laptop and my fresh Keurig coffee to enjoy the inspiration of little Bass Lake. I hear the roar of a large truck, with distinct beeping of a vehicle backing up.
They pick up garbage mad-early in cottage country.
Well, I can’t complain. Look at the view.
This is our last day in this little piece of Muskoka paradise. We booked it at the last minute, so it wasn’t cheap, but it was nice for a change of scenery. We had picture perfect weather, it averaged about 27 deg C the entire time we were up here. It wasn’t too busy on the lake, but it is small. So we experienced a bit of water traffic on the weekend. A couple of mini booze cruises (although by the looks of it, more seniors on the boat so not boisterous), some sea-doos, some boats pulling cuties on tubes, and of course, boys with their toys, there was the speedboat whipping back and forth, the man at the wheel trying to impress his female companion. Likely bored up here, my daughter commented.
The woodpeckers pecked and robins sang. We had a couple of daily visitors
But other than that, it was a very quiet few days.
This is the first non pet-friendly cottage we have rented in 12 years. The space next to me, this time on a wicker love seat, still seems empty. Grief still comes at me in small spurts. I’m glad we have so many photos – of the over 10,000 I have on my iCloud I bet a couple thousand include Cody, usually as the star.
I was supposed to write the entire time I’ve been up here. I did do some editing, and some drafting for my memoir. But mostly I’ve been reading, helping my writers’ group with their pieces, and reading a couple of good books…
First up, “A Change of Habit” by Sister Monica Clare. She’s a Tik Tok rockstar
I was scrolling through entertainment news, I saw it was being made into a mini series starring Jim Burgess and Teresa Palmer. Jim Burgess is such an amazing actor, he hasn’t really hit it huge as the projects he’s in never quite make it huge. But he’s so good in everything I’ve seen him in.
It’s the type of book that is right up my alley – romance, first loves, shared memories, music – there’s even a playlist on Spotify capturing some of the great music written about in the book. Music as a message. The messages contain mostly 80’s and some more recent songs. How could I not love a book that mentions Bowie, the Cure, Aztec Camera, Nick Drake, Frank Ocean, Artic Monkeys, oh it goes on… It reminded me a tiny bit of the book “One Day“, which was also made into not one, but two screen versions. The first, with Anne Hathaway, and yes, Jim Burgess, I was not a big fan of. I really preferred the book. The Netflix version of One Day – I loved and watched with my daughter
Unfortunately the mini series is only available in the UK at the moment. I devoured the book though. Most of my experiences with books made to movies, have been disappointing so it was imperative that I read it first. The book was so good.
Speaking of nostalgia, it was the weekend of the 40th anniversary of Live Aid. I can’t remember what I was doing that Saturday, I was 19 so likely not glued to the tube, hopefully enjoying the summer that I turned pretty (yes, I have shared some of my exploits, tame version, with my 20 year old daughter who is older than I was when Live Aid happened). So this past Saturday, while my daughter and hubs watched Dexter on Netflix, I watched several parts of the re-broadcast while cooking…the line up, kept going. At Wembley, then in the US. Absolutely incredible …
That’s Midge Ure! Dancing with tears in my eyes. We saw him in concert last year at the El Mocambo where I was so close I could almost touch him.. but then had to move because it got bloody hot in there and I thought I was going to pass out. OMG. His voice is still magic, though his hair is gone – he sports a great bald look these days.
Tony Hadley, Spandau Ballet. So cute! What a voice. Also still touring. I saw that he still has that long leather coat that seemed the look all the cool singers were wearing back then. And Paul Young alone and then with Alison Moyet. Wow, what a performer.
The Cars, Madonna, Chrissie Hynde and the Pretenders, Simple Minds, U2 when they were phenomenal, George, Wham, Elton John, INXS, of course Queen… mindblowing. What a time for music.
What else have I been up to here? I’ve been eating all the things … all dressed chips, coated in guacamole, tacos, chicken alfredo made with real cream, sausages, hotdogs, pancakes, pork souvlaki. I don’t usually eat breakfast. I’ve been drinking coffee, watered down pink rose, watered down pinot grigio, non alcoholic mojitos, a Caesar and beer (it’s Canada and it’s cottage country.) I know, so bad, so bloated.
But I have my ipad so at least got a couple of Les Mills On Demand Body Combat workouts in.
I need to get back on that workout wagon. Summer shouldn’t make me so lazy. If only I were 19 again and it could all melt away with one workout.
Wishful thinking..
(this was on the very first mixed tape my husband made for me and sent by post mail back in 1986 – very romantic 🙂
The Book of Records is the story of Lina, a young girl who with her sick father escapes her homeland and settles in something called “the Sea”. This is a fluid setting, where the sense of time moves from past to present to future – there’s a lot of back and forth, flashbacks and flash forwards. Lina makes friends with three neighbors, each representative of a real life historical figure: a Jewish philosopher, a German philosopher fleeing the Nazis, and a Chinese poet. We then follow each of these character’s lives, persecution, intermixed with real life historical events.
Through their stories and Lina’s own, there are themes of migration, displacement, and the power of independent thought and ideas, explored in this book. It ultimately focuses on Lina’s own family’s past and the impact of the political, ideologies and their impact on everyday people’s lives, and what people need to do to survive.
I found this book a little hard to follow – it is not one that you can put down and pick up frequently, without losing the flow. It is quite an intellectual read – needs some focus. It is not a beach read. I think you have to be in the mood for a thinking book to remain engaged. The writing was very good, well researched, but I’m not sure it is for everyone.
So 3 stars, and I thank the author, Netgalley and Penguin Random House Canada ARC.
It’s been two weeks. I still feel his presence, as if he’s lying just next to me in his favourite place, sleeping again. Most mornings, it would be just the two of us here in the family room at this time. The first ones awake and up for the day. He’s done his Austin Powers business outside (longest pee ever!); I’ve made the pot of coffee, I’ve settled on the couch to watch Breakfast Television, and he’s off to snooze again. My fuzzy old Cody Bear.
We made the difficult decision and booked an end of life appointment for our little guy. He was just in such decline, sleeping all day and only waking to go to out to relieve himself. He was struggling to stand, forgetting to eat or drink unless we brought him to the food or the food to him. Blind, deaf, he’d survived cancer, but the dementia was the worst. It was so hard for him at night, just circling, panting, looking for something in the corners of the house, hiding, in such distress. It was time.
We were fortunate that his vet does in-home visits, and was able to come to our home. She was so gentle, empathetic and understanding, and she was familiar with him as she had performed a couple of his surgeries. Cody fell asleep in his favourite corner, while eating his favourite freeze dried chicken treats. We were able to cuddle him and pet him while he crossed the rainbow bridge. We had a big family hug and cry after.
We adopted Cody when he was 4. The kids wanted a dog so badly and we had resisted for the longest time. We had busy careers, Ian and I both traveled internationally for work, there just seemed no way we could care for a dog. Especially as the kids were in elementary school and starting to get into the busy extracurricular schedules.
“Mommy, the solution is to get a nanny – they can take care of the dog AND us!”
Get a nanny for the dog? Well, it turned out to be not such a bad idea. We hired a live-in, Abie, not only to watch the kids, help me with the household, but also for a dog. So with that, I started scrolling through Petfinder, applied for about half a dozen little dogs with little luck.
And then early on a Sunday morning, alone with my coffee, I saw him. This little Shih Tzu with a bad haircut, looking back at me from my phone. “Teddy” was his name. I applied for him, and then when the kids and Ian woke up I excitedly told them and wanted to show them his photo. Ironically, because I had applied, his photo was taken off the app. It turns out that Tiny Paws Rescue reviewed each application as it came in – the best thing for us. Our chances were great, and when we finally got him, he came running into the house in his cute varsity jacket to play hide-and-seek, our hearts just melted. He was everyone’s constant companion.
Well, except other dogs, he was the Joe Pesci of our neighbourhood, tough little guy with a huge bark.
Cody was with us for almost 13 years – they were such great years. He was the absolute best, the hole in my heart will be here for a long while.
At a time 
Storytelling
People tell stories so others don’t feel as lonely.
I heard this being discussed on an episode of Q on CBC. The author and actress Zosia Mamet was being interviewed about her new memoir “Essays: Does this make me funny.”
It made me think about the reason I write, the reason I have started writing a memoir, the reason I blog.
At various points in my life, I have been lonely, very lonely. I have felt very alone.
I am a storyteller. That must be it.
(Tangent …while we’re talking about writing, can I take a moment to ask what the heck is going on with the English language. People making up words. For words that already exist? Have you heard “on accident”? “Oh, I did that on accident.” What is that even? In my world, the phrase is “by accident”. Grammarly even says so. And yet I have heard that on the air and in conversation. The worst I heard the other day… “it was informationable” – I googled it and apparently it IS a real word. But it was used in the context of being “informative”. Call me a writing snob. I can’t help cringing.)
OK, I’m back on track. Loneliness, telling my story to share experiences. If there is one quiet girl out there who doesn’t know where she belongs, who strives to be good enough as she is continually pushed beyond her comfort zone. Who carries scars from bullying and the weight of self-perceived underachievement buried under an outward successful persona.
If she reads my writing and sees herself in my story, then my writing will be worth it.
What drives you to write?