Saturday, October 15, 2016

I. Am. Canadian.

I love to talk about myself. You know that and this whole blog proves it. I'm my own favourite subject. Not news.

What I hate is when I get asked where I'm from. On the surface it's an innocent question. But from the right (wrong) person, it becomes a loaded question full of assumptions. Yuck.

Picture it (and it happens like this all the time)... a cute little old lady strikes up a conversation with me. We are talking hair and food and shopping or something mundane. Then it comes:

Cute Little Old Lady: So where are you from?
Me: (knowing what she means but purposely being obtuse): Montreal.
CLOL: No, I mean where are your people from?

Look. Does it really matter? We've just had a nice conversation. Who cares if I'm Canadian, West Indian or Klingon? Why is this an important question? Will I be judged if answer "wrong"? What is the deal here?

I hate that question. I will always hate that question. Because it makes me feel like just being my sparkly wonderful self isn't enough for you. And it should be. I mean, really.


Wednesday, October 5, 2016

Out of my comfort zone I go

I had my last dragonboat practice on Sunday and I miss it already. It's also my last practice with the club I've always known. I've decided to move on to another club that's more competitive. I'm scared shitless. I've paddled with Ottawa River Canoe Club for 10 years this year and I'm so freaking comfortable there. I've got friends I've known ever since I've picked up a paddle and I so don't want to leave. But I also want to challenge myself on a team that travels to international competitions and has a tryout process.

Yikes... Tryouts! Plus nutrition and fitness plans and repercussions if you can't keep up. Double yikes! I know in life you have to take the plunge and do things that scare you but sometimes I think I've been rash about this. And I'm also giving up my coveted and earned "stroke" seat at ORCC (front left) to sit somewhere else with all new teammates. So out of my comfort zone I go but...

I'm dying inside. My stomach does nauseating slow flips whenever I think about it.

I've signed up to do yoga classes with my new team (The Ottawa Dragon Masters) just to meet them, shake off the nerves before I hit the water in the spring and I also want them to see my enthusiasm. I hope to show them I'm up to the task. At least I hope I can fake enthusiasm for right now because on the inside I'll be an insecure bundle of nerves. Gotta go. These bricks won't shit themselves.