Holy Shit We Bought a House!

Let's all just pretend I'm not the most inconsistent blogger on the Internet.

This summer has been a busy one. And while I usually feel like "busy" is just a terrible excuse for anything (because who isn't busy), I promise you, I was bu-sy.

You see, James (the husband) and I have been busy wading through the Toronto real estate market.

I'll break down how that goes:

Set budget
Realize that budget won't get you much in Toronto
Realize that budget won't get you anything in dream neighbourhoods/neighbourhoods you ever go to
Come to terms with it
Check out the 20 MLS listings sent by realtor daily
Visit about 10-12 houses a week
Try not to cry
Find amazing home
Go into 17-way bidding war (no, that is not a typo - there were 17 other offers)
Come in second place
Actually cry
Find out other house you love didn't sell on listing day
Put in offer
Cry (the happy tears)

Here's our little home - a 1926 red brick semi

All in all though, it wasn't half bad. We'd heard stories of buyers hunting for months and months looking for the "perfect" home, losing out on several bidding wars and then finally finding "The One" 8 months after first shaking their realtor's hand.

Us? We met our realtor and signed over the offer within 1 month. And agreed to a 1 month closing date.

Yep - that's us. When we decided we want something we do it/get it right away. Our first home took a short 2 months to become ours, and we couldn't be happier. Our house is just the right size for us, in a neighbourhood that's quite close to the action (I can still bike to work, restaurants, friends' pads), had a garage (major bonus) and enough of a yard to host summer dinner parties al fresco.

We're doing a few renovations here and there - nothing major. Ok, a little major will be going on in the kitchen. All of it should be done within the next couple of weeks, so I'll be sharing little snippets of what we've done along the way.

Now, I'm off to Home Depot for the 127th time.

xxo j

Thieves and Bandits

You know what? I'm terrible at sticking to a schedule.

I'm 3 Joy Juices behind and I'm getting thirsty.

BUT, I'm not going to feel bad about it - because the sweet little P.S. at the bottom of my past email told me not to fret if I fall behind or need to skip a couple. Which left me feeling relieved and a little bit how does she know?!

No seriously. How?

Now, let's pick up where I left off last.

Here's my question:

What can I do in my current situation to be more joyful? To fully engage in my life just as it is?

Is it giving back? Is it pushing a boundary? Is it immersing myself in my creativity? Is it practicing self-love?

So, I thought about this for about 90 seconds before the siren call of the internet distracted me and I started clicking around the web again. I have the attention span of a goldfish. A goldfish with an iPhone. So I was clicking around some blogs and found this quotation that so perfectly speaks to me it's like my own mother said it.

· via ·

I read the quote an immediately thought "oh Eleanor Roosevelt - you're so wise. Always with the quotables." And then I read it again and realized, not Eleanor. Nope. That other Roosevelt.

But this quote so perfectly illustrates the root of any of my unhappiness: COMPARISON. This, my friends, is my "C word." Every time I feel great my inner other "C word" pipes up to compare me or my situation to someone else. 

If I look great in an outfit I imagine someone else looking better in it. If I have a big win in work, I imagine the people I went to school with having bigger, more glamourous wins at their agencies. I think of how I did it better last time, how she looked better before, how somewhere, someplace, someone else is doing something else better than me. 

And of course they are. And of course someone else would look better in this outfit that I'm sporting as I sit here and write this. But who the fuck cares? There's only one me, there's only one now, and to compare myself to anything or anyone else does nothing to help anyone. 

I need to appreciate what I have, practice gratitude and tell that bitch in my head to zip it because I'm talking and I've got some pretty nice things to say. 

Busy Bee

I'm a couple of days late on my Joy Juice post, but I promise it was for a very-super-important, life or death reason: I was getting my tan on.

My parents participate in the second-largest human migration on the planet: Canadian retirees escaping to Florida during winter. I miss them tons while they're gone, but visiting them is a huuuuuuge perk!

· Clearwater Point · poolside bliss · oysters we gathered that morning · tanned toes ·

Now that I'm back home in Toronto and shivering, I can focus my attention back on this blog. 

Ok so this Joy Juice is about being busy and reminding me that being busy isn't the same as being on track. 

What does my schedule say that I care about? Is that true? Am I avoiding any big decisions or dream-chasing by saying "I'm just too busy?"

I enjoy being busy. In fact, I kind of need it. Once I stop for too long, I get antsy - I feel guilty about wasting the day. 

· via ·

My schedule mostly consists of working, cooking, seeing friends and family and yoga. My schedule says I care about relationships and that is 100% truth. 

My big questions are those big life decisions one is faced with when at my age. Should I get bangs? And how/where/and when do we buy a house? My schedule isn't stopping me from this at all, but there is one thing I've noticed:

I tend to do things for fear of "missing out."

This isn't necessarily a bad thing. I go on trips because I don't want to miss out on seeing the world, I take risks because I don't want to miss out on reaping the rewards, I see my parents because I don't want to miss out making memories with them that I'll cherish forever. BUT, I think I need to learn to save time for myself. I'll say "yes" to drinks with friends, or a coffee date when sometimes all I want to do is stay home and watch a terrible chick flick. But I say "yes" because I feel guilty about staying home and doing nothing.

ermagerd i think I'm making a revelation here...

My schedule says I don't care enough about myself.

holy shit

I don't give myself enough alone time. And I love alone time. I lived alone for 3 years and adored every single minute of it. I got to know myself so well. Being alone is how I got myself here - to a place where I'm really really happy.

Ok, so here it is. I need to spend more time with me. I need to set aside more time to go to yoga all by my lonesome even if it means giving up on going out for that post-work drink. I also need to enjoy those nights my husband has to work late and spend them doing "me" things.

I'm my best company, and I can keep myself busy working on me thankyouverymuch. 

Awesome, opossum*

Every three days, I'll be posting my response to the Joy Juice journaling prompts I receive in my inbox on those mornings. 

Ok, folks. This one's the hardest yet.

I'm supposed to reflect on what makes me awesome.

· via · 

Seriously?! Could I please answer what makes me not awesome? Because that's a lot easier, amIright?

Why is pointing out what makes you so great so hard? I feel like when I was 8 this would have been so easy:

I'm awesome at: singing, dancing, making a house out of a cardboard box, following along to The Little Mermaid word by word, making friends, decorating hats, exploring the forest behind my house.

When I was 8, I was capitol "A" awesome. The shit, some might say. But then something happened.

We learn somewhere that celebrating ourselves isn't polite. True, we need to learn humility (because no one likes a brag), but it shouldn't be at the cost of our sincerest pride. We learn that it's ok to flaunt our faults, but wearing our awesome right on our chest makes us the Hester Prynne of the 6th grade. "Don't talk to her, she's awesome."

So here, now, I will shout my awesome loud and clear.

...
...

ummm...I'm really good at winging my eyeliner? (you know that's an awesome skill to master.)

Uhhhh...gosh this is hard.

Ok. I'm a great cook. I can bake too. Like, seriously. I'm confident in the kitchen and if you give my ingredients, I can whip them into something pretty great. Exhibit A (for awesome, obv) and B (bitch, please):

Those were some tasty tasty foods, says I. You can believe me.

Ok, but I must be great at more than just kitchen-y things.

I think I'm great at listening to my friends. I'm great at lending an ear if they have something they need to talk through. I give good insight and I try my best to not push my opinion on how they should handle the situation on them and let them do what they'd like with my advice.

I'm great at feeling things. If I'm sad, I cry. If I'm angry, I'll vent. If I'm happy, you'll know it. This may not seem like an awesome quality, but when the flip side is holding it all in, I think this is the better option. For me.

So how do I remind myself about how awesome I am when I forget? This one's easy: talk to my husband. He's my biggest fan and always holds me accountable. And he's always there to remind me I'm awesome even when I don't believe it at all.

Then he asks me to go bake him some cookies.

So, what's one thing that makes you awesome? And if you're less than stellar at winged eyeliner, check out Keiko's how to.

*An oppossum is NOT a possum, guys! Possums are Australian. Oppossums are North American. Basically an oppossum is to possums as alligators are to crocodiles. (I'm also awesome at knowing all the answerst.)

No Bonnet Required

Truth be told, Easter isn't my favourite holiday. It's not my favourite anything really. It doesn't have the pumpkin-pie-comfort that comes along with Thanksgiving, no one gives me gifts like at Christmas (except for white chocolate bunnies*), and dressing up like one of the X-men really only works at Halloween.

But, Easter does have one thing going for it - the promise of warmer weather. And this year, that promise is truer than ever since the husband and I are hopping on a plane Friday morning and heading down to Florida to visit my parents.

Guess what? It's 25 (that celcius, friends) and sunny. It's alright to be jealous.

If I could run out right now and buy a brand new outfit to wear to Easter dinner, this is exactly what I'd pick up. Complete with the Dear Creatures dress and Swedish Hasbeens I've been coveting. (See? This is also why I dislike Easter...coveting is frowned upon).

· shopping deets ·

What are your feelings about Easter? Are you a fan, or can the bunnies keep it?

*Whoever told my aunt that I love white chocolate, could you please fix this? It's gross and not actually chocolate at all.

The Best Intentions

Every three days, I'll be posting my response to the Joy Juice journaling prompts I receive in my inbox on those mornings. 

This one's about intentions.

Intention: an act or instance of determining mentally upon some action or result.

Like, I intended to do laundry this weekend but I realized I had 2 more thongs tucked in back of my sock drawer so really, why bother?

Or, I intend to go to the party and only have 2 manhattans. (hahahahaha, right)

But no, not like those at all. The intention I'm talking about here is less "quantifiable." It's more a long-term goal. A "putting it out there" vibe, if you will.

· via ·

From what I understand of it (read: what Google tells me), setting an intention is basically assuming the outcome of something. In laylady's terms: you reap what you sow.

What is my intention for this year?
I'm not making goals here. If I were, my goal this year would be "buy an adorable house." My intention is something completely different.

My intention is to think more positively. To let the negative thoughts roll off my back, leaving room for only the positive. This is sure to create a domino effect, right? Like one where I give people the benefit of the doubt? Where I figure people think I'm great unless otherwise explicitly stated? It must.


How can I practice setting intentions in my day-today and remind myself of my practice gently?
Here's what I'm going to each morning: Tell myself "I'm going to have a great day"

How can I encourage others to share their intentions?
By being awesomely happy.

BUT, I could also encourage others to share their intentions here. If anyone's even reading! So, what are your intentions?

Talk ain't cheap, sister

Every three days, I'll be posting my response to the Joy Juice journaling prompts I receive in my inbox on those mornings. At least, that's my intention ;) 

Ok, so this one's about self-talk. When I was doing my undergrad (in kinesiology, which is hilarious to anyone who knows me because I'm not "sporty" in the least. I just think muscles are super cool), I did a paper on the effects of self-talk and varsity level athletes. I'll spare you the nitty-gritty details (and footnotes) and cut to the chase - athletes who self-talk their way through their sport perform better than those who don't.

So why am I even telling you this? Well, for one, I got an 87% on that paper and I like bringing that up. Also, it does segway into today's Joy Juice, as the words we say to ourselves every day can truly affect how we see the world and how the world sees us.

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Where am I practicing self-sabotage my talking about myself negatively?

This one's tricky for me. First off, I do this in my head often - back to the too's from the other day's post. I tell myself I've got awful legs, or by butt looks terrible, or I said something idiotic. I level myself far too often instead of pumping myself up. But what's worse, is I often say these things out loud to my husband. He's my biggest fan and all I'm doing is chipping away at his fandom one little comment at a time. Yikes.

BUT, I have a question: does self-deprecating humour count as talking negatively about yourself? Because if I have to stop making fun of myself for my downfalls, my whole comedy schtick* is blown.

*I make friends or family members chuckle now and then. Not to be confused with a full-blown comedy schtick.


What do I complain and whine about the most?

Apart from eating too many carbs and feeling bloaty? Probably something someone did to offend me. And then it usually turns out to be a misunderstanding. If everyone would just say what they mean (and feel) I think this complaint would disappear (like the carbs on my plate).


What would it looks like if I made the conscious effort to talk (and think) about those things in a positive way?

Back to the first question: I'd probably feel more confidence, right? If I just shut up and let myself be? And as for getting upset over misunderstandings; I probably need to just give people the benefit of the doubt (which is so so difficult for me to do, but I'll try!). And as for the bloating? I doubt thinking positively about my gas will make it go away - so I just made a doctor's appointment to talk about it ;)

So what would it look like if I was more positive with my self-talk?

· via the talented Max Wanger ·

So, what are you saying about you?