The Kitten That Liked Ice Cream

It's time for Spring cleaning and as I was decluttering my condo, I came across this:  

It is a compilation of stories that myself and the other twenty-five students in Mrs. Larson's grade two class wrote way back in the day. According to the preface:

"What a joy! Your children are sensitive to themselves, their world and the power of their language. At such a young age, they are willing and able to put into words their feelings, ideas, wonderings and fantasies."

Which is hilarious considering this was my submission: 

IMG_0723.JPG

Yikes. 

But equally interesting is my bio. I've always believed that someone's core self is a mirror of who they were as a child. In that regard, my current life could also be summed up as follows: 

"I like puppies. I like making things. I like to read. I went many places."

"I like puppies. I like making things. I like to read. I went many places."

My essence has never changed, although my name has. Because there were two Deborahs in my grade, I was relegated (not by choice) to become "Debbie". I went along with it because I was a terribly shy child who just did what she was told and never really raised her voice. Perhaps this is the part of me that has evolved over the years; I don't really answer to anyone anymore. Anyway, I really can't put into words how much I hate the moniker and have erased any trace of it.

I am (and always have been) Deborah Michelle Clague, a girl who likes puppies, reading and traveling. 

Christmas

This is a short story about my annual Christmas breakdown. Over the last three years, it has become an event that happens at random, at unexpected times and unexpected places. It is also nearly invisible to those around me; despite writing this public online journal about my life, I am very private and covert in person. Only those truly close to me ever suspect an emotional shift.  

Last year, it happened at work after I glanced up at my bulletin board and saw a picture of him. As it's right in the periphery line of vision of my computer screen, it is technically an image I see every day. Yet, last year I felt it. The weight of its meaning gave me pause as my breathing became heavy and I could feel my eyes well up with tears. I was having an anxiety attack. Thankfully, I have my own office and quickly closed the door to take a ten minute breather. 

Today, it happened in my car while waiting in a long drive-thru line at McDonalds. All afternoon I had been shopping with a friend, listening to them talk about their upcoming family gathering while observing other families out and about sharing moments and completing their Christmas shopping in tandem. After we parted ways, I knew I needed a junk food hit. The greasiest of burger, the saltiest of fries. Only this could provide comfort. After pulling in, it hit me. My lips quivered and the waterworks began. Good God, I miss my father. 

I don't really look forward to this season anymore. The emptiness of loss (and anger and sadness) is still there every. single. day. But in the week or so leading up to Christmas, it becomes amplified. And only those living it understand.

It really sucks.

It really sucks that my father will never meet my future husband or ever get to play with my future kids. I think that bothered him. It definitely bothers me. 

It really sucks that other people's happiness brings me down. I hate admitting this but I'm not above being human. It's a terrible thought to harbour and I feel great shame by it. It's not that I don't want their contentment to happen - most definitely not, it is what everyone deserves - just that I can't be 100% present in these moments because my mind is so clouded by envy. 

What doesn't suck though are small, serendipitous signs from the universe. After today's pathetic breakdown, I received a text from an old friend looking to reconnect. They, too, are still mourning the loss of their much loved mother. And my neighbour, an elderly widow, left a surprise gift at my doorstep of freshly-baked bread and cookies, inviting me for tea as she misses my company.

Perhaps these unexpected gestures were karma to detract from the negative one. 

That's the other thing about loss - those living it always look for meaning. I believe it is there. I am willing to search for it. I am not alone. 

And neither are you. 

My favourite things of the year:

Once again, it's the season for year-end lists. And as I'm too busy/not motivated enough to write something more original (even copying this intro from last year's post), I will simply detail my favourite things of the year. Enjoy. 


HEALTHY FOOD: I am learning how to cook and have so far perfected a handful of dishes, one of which is a chicken, roasted pepper, rice medley mixed with various cajun spices. It's not original (and perhaps pretty basic for those with more culinary ability) but it is delicious and I'm proud of myself for developing a new skill. 

RUNNER UP: Kale smoothies.

NOT-SO-HEALTHY FOOD: Oh Doughnuts in Winnipeg. 
This is the most decadent donut I have ever had in my life. I'm still hoping to visit on a day when lemon meringue, pictured above, is being served (but will happily order and eat whatever is on offer). 

RUNNER UP: Dark chocolate with lavender. 

MINDLESS PASTIME: Bowling

RUNNER UP: Ruckers

BOOK: When Breath Becomes Air by Paul Kalanithi
This is a beautiful, heart-wrenching first-hand account of the thoughts and feelings one experiences after being diagnosed with terminal cancer. The final paragraph is everything I needed to hear from my father but which he wasn't granted opportunity to say. This book touched my heart. 

RUNNER UP: Atlas Obscura by Joshua Foer, Dylan Thuras and Ella Morton
I haven't excitedly rushed home to read a book before, but for this one I do. 'Atlas Obscura' is a completely engrossing travel book that details the globe's more curious locales, giving me a million more reasons to hold a current passport. This book ignited my mind. 

INSPIRATION: Alexander McQueen
Of late, I've been increasingly mesmerized by highly detailed, intricate works of art that evoke mood. Alexander McQueen was a master of this in the medium of fashion and, as his shows would attest, theatre. Both his myth and output are inspiring me to think bigger and try harder with the aim of achieving but a fraction of his mastery. 

RUNNER UP: Gustave Doré

NEWS STORY: Bear Clan
I really struggled to find a positive news story from 2016. With each passing week, it seemed the world entered an increasingly fragile, chaotic state. A group of volunteers in Winnipeg has been doing exceptional things though and deserve to be recognized. The Bear Clan was initially formed to protect young women and children in my hometown's most vulnerable neighborhoods. They now routinely help the community in other areas, including missing persons cases from all walks of life. I have the utmost respect for them. They are good people doing good things.  

RUNNER UP: 2016 was a terrible year. I cannot think of a truly feel-good story. 

EMOJI: ðŸ˜Š

RUNNER UP: ðŸŒ›

ALBUM: Lemonade by Beyoncé.
Beyoncé is an artist and performer without equal and this album is a cultural masterpiece. I would be lying if I said I didn't belt out 'Don't Hurt Yourself', co-written with another favourite Jack White, every day in the shower. Flawless all around. 

RUNNER UP: 'Somebody Else' by The 1975 resurrects Depeche Mode in the best way possible. 

FAVOURITE MOMENT: Riding a camel with my best friend in Dubai. 

RUNNER UP: My mom asking me who "Becky with the good hair" is. 
See, Beyoncé transcends generations. 

Thirty-something Vignette no.8

It was a late flight in. She was exhausted and wanted nothing more than to get home and relax. Rushing past the other arrivals, she made her way to the taxi queue and entered the first one available. It would be a 10 minute ride to a warm shower, comfy robe and relative serenity before slumber. After offering her address, the plump, bespectacled driver initiated conversation by inquiring where she was travelling from.  

"My hometown, Winnipeg."

"Oh," he replied. "lots of rednecks in Winnipeg."  

Well this should be interesting, she thought. 

The driver continued, explaining his reasoning ("It's bigger than Regina") and then attempted to justify it further by claiming Little House on the Prairie was filmed there. She didn't quite get the correlation. 

"I'm pretty sure it wasn't." she stated in a firm tone barely cloaking her annoyance. 

"Oh yes, someone told me."

He, like so many others, had never actually visited Winnipeg but felt the need to get on his soap box about it. She desperately wanted to interject with facts but the cab driver seemed to enjoy listening to his own voice. Not being able to get a word in edgewise, she gave up and stared out the window in an effort to avoid the nonsense. Her focus shifted to something that had been troubling her. A recent confrontation with a "friend" that had exposed the futility of placing trust in someone that continuously demonstrated they didn't merit it. Always trying to find the good in everyone was her cross to bear. 

If someone needs to plead that they are a good person, they typically aren't. 

If they were, their character wouldn't be called into question in the first place. 

Deep in thought, she failed to notice that the cab driver was taking the long route to her home.

Redgee Awards

Very proud to win "Best in Region" at the 2016 Canadian Regional Design Awards, the Redgees. Saskatchewan Polytechnic received top honours for the Prairies (Saskatchewan/Manitoba/Nunavut) for design work on the 2017/18 Viewbook. The piece – which merged traditional print with augmented reality – will also be showcased in an upcoming issue of national magazine, DesignEdge. Winners were announced at a ceremony in Toronto on November 2. 

The Redgee Awards are the most comprehensive collection of work from Canada's professional creative communities.