Life is Your Story

10 has sex with various shaped pillows 9 invites friends over to watch Game of Thrones on Netflix 8 tries on your clothes (because he is sick and tired of walking around naked all the time) 7 farts something so awful even he has to clear the room 6 logs onto your  computer for doggy online dating and creates a completely fictitious profile 5 logs onto your computer for YOUR online dating and creates a completely fictitious profile 4 sleeps then awakes at the thought of applying to college and doing something with his life but then realizes  that  would mean less sleep so forgets about it and goes back to sleep 3 updates his profile on LinkedIn so he can get a job and buy a new Kong 2 unmakes the bed and rubs  himself  all over the sheets and thinks it's funny And the #1 THING YOUR DOG DOES WHILE YOU ARE AT WORK: perfects his “IT WASN'T ME” face for when you walk through the door                                           Whisky's

What I would give for one more moment... In the car with my parents and brothers listening to Genesis, Styx, Fleetwood Mac on a family vacation. My  father  at the wheel young and healthy, telling us jokes and my mother at ease by his side loving life, loving us and forever  moving  forward with her hand closed around mine. Friday night dinner with my grandparents, at the table looking around at all of our faces and listening to our stories, laughing, smiling  already  having learned  the  art of treasuring every moment as if it is your last.  The first time I fell in love without questioning that love, without feeling like I was falling but like I was floating, rising above everything to a place of wonderment and acceptance; a place that felt like no other.                       In the country walking, running with all of the dogs that have enriched my life, and shown me love in a way I would have otherwise never experienced. The precious time before their sudden exi

What is Sunday really for ? A day to stay in your  sweat pants on the couch streaming a show about a chemistry teacher in the desert in his underwear? A day to take the kids to karate, ice skating, basket weaving and someone else’s house (now you’re getting the idea)? A day to go to the $ store for something you really don’t need and that really doesn't cost a $ ? Well - how about sex on a Sunday? As a matter of fact (completely fictitious but read on), on a recent Sunday I decided I was going to explore the Atwater Market right here in our great city of Montreal (for those of my readers from around the world - the Atwater Market is an outdoor/indoor market where vendors sell fresh produce). Once I arrived there I really had no idea what to shop for or how to “work” the market so I headed over to the nut aisle  and found a barrel filled with almonds. Now according to Dr Oz who should really be performing heart surgery and saving lives because he is a hea

Do you ever catch yourself in that perfect moment when you  are conscious of breathing? Making love, being held, sleeping on a hammock in the shade with your arms wrapped around your lover, walking in the silence of the forest with your dog. Do you ever breathe through someone else? Their lips dancing across your body awakening every molecule of your being. Have you ever breathed for a family member, a loved one as they sat bent and broken; their head to their knees looking down because they could not find their way up?  Do you ever breathe through your art? Your creative spirit taking you to places you have never been while it whispers in your ear “This is where you paint, sculpt, draw - this is where you share your craft - your gift with others.” And your masterpiece, a wedge of your soul, whisks them away in it's beauty and they are reminded to stop and breathe. Have you ever sat by the bed of an aging parent and breathed for them for all the times th

Your dog is there for you Not sometimes Not maybe Not never But always He waits for you He watches you He is your best friend And when you are alone Living alone A marriage or relationship in the past Your dog is your present Your dog is your future He is your Saturday night date Your excuse that is not an excuse For just staying home He will watch your favorite TV show He will listen to your ongoing commentary He will tilt his head and do his best to understand Whatever dribble is coming from your mouth                                               R.I.P. Buster  He will want to share all of the moments of his life With all the moments of yours And then he will want more More than time can give In the short life he lives A dog is a gift He comes and goes He teaches you to love life To love unconditionally To love him To love yourself Even if you feel no one else does There are no stronger fee

In the dark Is the mist Is the fog Of our love It comes and goes But is always in the shadows And  the pockets of  our regrets Your tongue strikes The sweetest lightning Along my skin Lifting me higher Into the foggy mist Where I breathe into you And you breathe into me Your lips are my lips Warm and willing Your top lip  Your bottom lip Equally as important My tongue awakens  Your mouth Your senses Every inch of you Colliding  With every inch of me As your hands stray Across and along my body I taste your taste With each love detour You have mapped With your tongue And when I slide  Down to you In circular motions Of all that was then Of all that is now All of you Meets All of me Down - Down There is a cry  for my lips for my mouth Your hands rhythmically caressing My head in a waltz  That leads t

Somewhere between here and there Then and now The sadness and pain Will shift and change Linger and leave Your weary beaten mind Will find a path To a better place Where life goes on And so do you Your loss Your tragedy That once brought you to your knees Will transform into strength Beyond any force Beyond any fear You are a survivor Feeling everything Feeling nothing Get up on your feet Look backward once Look forward twice And in one great sum Become comfortably numb

Below is a list of questions I have been asking myself since I turned 40. Have you asked yourself any of these questions? ·           Am I bloated or is that fat? ·           What is that line on my forehead and how did it get there? ·           Should I get smaller bras or better straps?          Why am I so tired? ·           Do I actually look closer to 50 than closer to let’s say 45? ·           Why does it hurt when I bend down? ·           Why does it hurt when I turn my head this way? ·           Why does everything hurt? ·           Is it hot in here or is it just me? ·           What’s foreplay? ·           How come I can’t remember something that happened 5 minutes ago? ·           What just happened? ·           Are those bags under my eyes or did someone stick Plato on my face when I was sleeping? ·           Is grey my real hair colour? ·           How hard can it be to lose 5lbs? ·           When was the last time someone called

Kiss me Tongue me Lick me Love me Here There Everywhere Warm Wet Wonderful Love your lips Love your love Waltzing Dancing Tongue to tongue Beautiful - Naked We are one  Happy Valentine's Day to everyone who has found love and to all the brave souls who are willing to try and find it again. 

I couldn’t sleep. I found myself sitting on the side of the bed, negotiating with the hurricane that had blown through my life. I made my way to an all-night diner for people like me who find themselves wide awake while everyone else sleeps. All members of a club with no name and only one rule, "Don't judge me and I won't judge you." I was in need of a gentle hand stroking my back.  I needed to hold someone and be held. I needed to spend time with someone who knew nothing about me and who wouldn't ask the questions everyone asks. I needed someone to stay without leaving and leave without staying. I needed a bright shade of blue upon my weeping, blank canvas. Two stools down the counter, sipping coffee and reading  an old messed up copy of “Beautiful Losers” by Leonard Cohen, sat a man with a face chiseled and shaped by the greatest artists of all time. He was wearing a white t-shirt, faded Levi's and Converse shoes. His arms were graced in tattoo

Whether you married, whether you divorced, moved to another city, adopted a dog, adopted a baby, had children of your own, never had a child, parted company with a childhood friend, bought a house, sold a house, lost everything, found it all over again, really loved someone, took that pill that made it all go away and then took it again, had a drink and had another, lied so many times you no longer know the truth, said things you knew you shouldn’t have said, kissed someone that wasn’t yours to kiss and then wanted so much more than that kiss, lost a parent – a sibling – a partner and were left with a space that will never be filled, hid in someone’s arms and melted away, left someone standing with their heart in their hands… Some things stand out. The love you have for those who surround and love you. The career you have chosen and the passion you have for everything outside of those work hours – the art, the literature, the cooking, the tasting, the wet kisses, the hug, the hold

We all share pain The way we share love The way we share ourselves We all feel pain Some of us more than others We all understand pain We've all met pain Walked around the block with pain Joined it for coffee and a cigarette We all fear pain And loath pain And wish it would let us be No one should be alone in pain But so many are Pain visits us throughout our lives It's there at the end To remind us Of the good parts The sunsets The sunrises The kisses Being held Being loved We drift off Say goodbye Follow the steps Of one last dance And pray Wherever we go There is no such thing As pain

When I was a kid, my "happily ever after" (hereafter noted as "HEA") consisted of marrying my Ken doll (G.I. Joe was a close 2 nd ) and moving to Colorado where we would build a log home  without  a picket fence and have mountain children and a goat named Ed.     Then I went off to elementary school and when I was in that pivotal role of a 6 th  grader – not quite a child, not quite a teenager, I changed my mind and my HEA became  marrying a Veterinarian and having 5 dogs instead of 5 children and naming them Gus, Spade, Hank, Jack and Wilbur. High school came along and my HEA became me and my friends moving to California and living together in one of those houses by Venice Beach. We would run a taco stand on the boardwalk and play guitar and drink beer by a bonfire at night. Then I made my way to University and all my HEA became – "What am I going to do with my life and how am I ever going to be able to move out of my parent’s bas