August 1, 2011

It's August. And I haven't posted a single thing in over two months.

Ahh...vacation!

 

 

Several recent summers have been consumed by writing deadlines, and last year I was preparing for the launch of two books.

 

 

And because I still have a "day job" (which I love), June was crazy-busy.

 

 

So although at first, I was feeling guilty and slacker-ish for not posting here, I eventually decided to make it a conscious blogging break (which, of course, immediately meant I discovered all sorts of amazing blog-worthy material).

 

 

I had a full - but relaxing - July. It all started with a wedding, where the power went out! The bride was the daughter of my very good friend, Laura, who was my roomate in Quebec during the summer of 1988.

 

 

Shortly thereafter, I headed out to Winnipeg to visit relatives. It had been a long time since I went on the kind of vacation where I was just the guest, with no real touring or sightseeing or anything to do, and it was fabulous. Even more fabulous was the chance to reconnect with my cousins and their children.

 

 

I came home to a cottage full of longtime friends and their families - all together, we were six adults, four kids, three dogs, some delicious food and a lot of laughs.

 

 

Then, I spent a hot, hot week at home in Ontario during the heat wave, swimming in the lake almost every day (sometimes alone, often with my friend Joanne), entertaining my mother and my honorary "aunt" Mary, and going to an outdoor theatre in record breaking temperatures.

 

 

Right about then, my friend and colleague Colleen called me from Nova Scotia, to invite me out to visit her at her summer place in Guysborough. I don't usually lean towards spontaneity, but I'm trying to, more and more. So I cashed in some Aeroplan points for a flight to Halifax, and surfed the internet for a decent rental car rate: FYI, Alamo was about 1/3 the price of all of the other major rental places, including unlimited mileage! "Veronica" (my GPS) got me out of parking garage, and pointed me East as the radio played - I kid you not - "Born to Be Wild". (It turns out that it's tough to actually be wild at 41 and 44, with a six-year-old in the cottage, but we did manage to talk our way out of ticket one night...). I spent the final afternoon kicking around Halifax Harbour where I bought the beautful Sea Glass Hunters Handbook,

featuring a photo of a pink heart-shaped piece of seaglass much like the one I have, and featured in the trailer for Maybe Never, Maybe Now! My flight was scheduled to leave Halifax at 10:50 p.m., and at 11, they announced that due to a mechanical issue, it was cancelled! Most people on the flight were, understandably, frustrated and upset, but I was in the fortunate position of not really having to be anywhere else right away, so with a little help from someone I love, I managed to secure a reservation in one of the only area hotels that still had a vacancy. The shuttle arrived within fifteen minutes, and I spent a lovely night in a beautiful hotel room before finally flying back to Toronto the next day, just before noon.

 

 

I had a day or two to do my laundry and remind my pets that I do actually live here, before packing up the boat and heading out for the long weekend with another large group of friends.

 

 

In and amongst the craziness that was my month, I have read some wonderful books (which I will share with you, here), and begun to write anew (mostly in my head, but that's where all of my ideas root before I transplant them to keyboard). Reading back through the highlights of July, I notice the common threads of family and friends, many of whom I have not seen in previous summers as I shut myself in to write. My books are all about relationships - how lucky I am to be celebrating my own.  

I look forward to renewing my blogging relationships, as well!

On Friendship

I've been thinking a lot about friendship lately. Partly, I think, because of my recent visit to my former high school, and reunion with some university pals. Then, someone posted a comment about my books saying that they love books about friendship. And when I was doing the TRT Book Club interview, and thinking about how we all write about certain themes, I realized that friendship is one of my themes.

You know how some people spend their whole lives looking for that one perfect romantic partner, because they've read all the romances and seen all the movies about how it's supposed to be? And then the real people - the ones who burp and have messy hair and leave their dirty socks lying around - never seem to measure up to the Handsome Prince on a white horse that Person Number One imagined in their dreams?

I think I've spent a lot of my life suffering from that same kind of delusion - only instead of looking for the Handsome Prince/Romance, I've spent a lot of time in search of The BFF (Best Friend Forever).

Don't get me wrong: I have some amazing friends. Amazing. People who let me cry all over them for months on end when I needed to. People who let me call them out of the blue when they haven't heard from me in months, and are totally there for me anyway. People who have celebrated birthdays with me since we were nine years old. People who honoured me first by choosing me as a maid of honour, and then again by letting me do it a second time when their first marriage didn't "take". People who make me laugh and make me smarter and make me feel good about myself.

But just as happens with romances, I've had my "break-ups", too. Sometimes it's circumstantial, but other times, there has been no explanation, and they have simply disappeared, leaving me with that "it's not you, it's me..." feelling that always makes you think it really is you.

Which it may be. Because maybe I've got my own "intimacy issues". While part of me thinks I want that BFF who will there for me every day -- and who will want me to be there for her - another part of me - a part that I think is more authentically me - doesn't always want that kind of pressure. (I know, I know - if it's true friendship, it shouldn't feel like pressure, right?)

I love having time to myself! I get crabby when it doesn't happen. Ask my husband. Or my sister. Or my mom. Or anyone who has ever spent more than six hours straight with me. Even if we're doing something "fun".

Apparently, it started early. My mom tells me that even when I was very young, my sister would play and play and play with other children, while I would hang out for a bit, then quietly remove myself, go into my room, and just be.

I'm still like that. I enjoy hanging out with other people. I adore good conversation. But I need time alone too much to give all I have to any one "best" friend.

Instead, I have many, have had many, and hope to have many yet to come.

And in the meantime, I'll keep writing about friendship. And maybe I'll learn something about it along the way.