Today was the day to say goodbye. I won't write much here.
I was a fan, not an ultimate viewer. I made a conscious effort to watch most of Season 25. I grew to truly appreciate her as part of my week; my day. Prior to this year, I watched it off and on.
I have a lot of respect for her. Blending the woman with the brand, Oprah is second to none.
I'm sure she's not perfect. In fact, I know it.
But, she has given a lot of herself.
She has inspired me over this past year to become more comfortable with myself, my life, my position, and my beliefs.
She's part of the reason why I started this blog.
Today, I posted this quote on my Facebook page and on Twitter:
"I hold true to the belief that everyone has a story to tell, and from every individual's experience there is something we can all learn."
I did drink the kool-aid. I use chrome (ie9 couldn't handle blogger) and I love it. I listen to Gaga and I love it.
Call her the new Madonna. The next Britney. I love her zany costumes. Her stage presence.
Her joie de vivre.
But, most of all, I love her music. It makes me happy. It makes me want to sing. To smile. To laugh. To perform Halloween numbers with my word: "chin(s)" written in big black lettering on my white t-shirt.
I realized the other day when I posted this video on Facebook that I don't deal well with angry or mean people. I know those of you reading who know who I am are thinking, "is he serious?!"
Yes.
Although I might be one of those angry, mean people from time to time, I realize that I need to at least TRY be more happy and less angry.
So, what's the connection to Facebook and thinking about mean people is that often - around my friends especially - I'm afraid to tell people I like something because I'm worried they will either tell me things like (and I paraphrase):
Really? You like Oprah. You know she's in love with Gayle.
Lady Gaga?! Seriously? I'm so over her. Lady Blah Blah should be her name.
Glee? You still watch that stupid show?
Coors Light? What are you? A girl?!
Yes. I love Oprah. I love Gaga. I LOVE Glee. And, sometimes an ice cold Coors Light hits the spot the way nothing else can.
These things, and many others, make me happy. Very happy. They help me FEEL. They help me deal with the bad stuff all around us.
So, you know what?
No more backing down when you're mean or angry towards me when I tell you I like something. It's time I tell you without being afraid about you might say.
So, my darling husband is playing the lead male (female) role of Ned Lowenscroft in Elizabeth Rex at the Langham Court Theatre in Victoria, BC.
The shows start on June 8 and run through to June 25.
Tickets are $18 unless you're old (65+) or cheap (student) - then they're $16.
This means the inevitable dinner at home by myself every night, really only seeing him when he gets home after the show and it's time for bed, and of course, going to see it with all our friends!
I'm biased as to how good he is, but I'm very excited to see it.
Timothy Findley wrote the play and I loved The Wars, so this must be good!
If you have a spare night and want to see some good theatre in a relatively comfy seat, then go see Elizabeth Rex!
That's a problem I've been having for about a week now. I spent all this time making my blog look like I wanted it to - I think I achieved that - but not much time narrowing down what I wanted to write about.
A co-worker told me to, "think about where you want to be in five years and make sure that what you write about now is something you want people to see then, not now."
That was a good point, but it also made me think. What do I want to be when I grow up? Or, better yet, what did I want to be when I grew up? Now that I'm 30, I kind of feel like I have grown up.
I'm happily married to the love of my life. We own a condo (i.e. mortgage), have fabulously great friends and family, and I work at what I feel is my 'dream job'.
I've spent such a long time trying to think about what I wanted to be when I grew up that I kind of grew up without noticing.
Now, that doesn't mean I'm 100% mature, close to death (I hope!), or have achieved everything I had planned. But, it does mean that for the first time in a long time, I'm happy. I'm happy and proud of who I am and who I have become.
As my dad said when I came out to him (he's a man of few, but very meaningful words), "are you happy? Because as long as you are happy, I'll be happy. That's all I will ever care about because I love you and I want you to be happy."
Guess what, dad!? I'm happy, and I like this feeling.
