Puzzle Party for Two

Today, for the First time, I put together a 1000 piece jigsaw puzzle! Not alone though. Along with my talented and charming puzzle partner, we embarked on a 22 hour marathon (minus a nights sleep and only a few breaks for food) to bring the masterpiece you see below to completion. It was enlightening in ways I won't go into and ultimately, so very satisfying. The most exciting part however, is knowing that this is only the beginning. I look forward to fitting many more pieces together. xo

 

 

I blame it all on my Mom!

I spent the first 7 years of my life as a single kid, raised by a single mom.  Living on MacDonnal St. in Peterborough, Ontario, my mom's home town, the two of us lived a humble, dreamy little life. My mother is the most incredibly creative, resourceful person I know. She is brave and energetic and limitless in being able to bring her ideas to life within the most modest context. Our entire universe was a product of her imagination and handy work. The furniture we lived on was refinished and upholstered by her, the pictures on the wall were made from wood and books she had cut up and pasted, the clothes we wore she had sewn; even the neighbourhood we lived in was inspired by her. She used to give all the block kids popsicles in exchange for picking up a bag of street garbage and brought the first flower bed to our street. Seriously - she's totally amazing. I love her for everything she is and for everything she is not.   

One of my greatest memories with my mom was riding in the kiddy seat on the back of her bike. It was so freeing and I felt completely in her care. It was a sense of both comfort and adventure which I find rare to achieve as an adult. When I became too heavy for the bike we advanced to a navy blue Vespa scooter and got matching white helmets. For several years this was our thing. A wee scootin duo kickin around the P.Dot. Little did I realize when she decided to sell the Vespa a decade later (after I said, "no way - I won't drive that thing") that it would be one of my greatest regrets. Needless to say, owning a scooter has been something I've promised myself I will one day do to make up for that. 

Funny story. A few years ago now, I did actually buy a scooter. It was a beautiful, fully restored 1964 cobalt blue Piaggo. I bought it from a friend of an ex boyfriend, but not because I was ready, because when I took it for a test drive one day after work (so cleverly in heels and a tight pencil skirt), I flinched on the clutch, stalled, dropped, scrapped and dented it! It was a break it - buy it purchase that ended up sitting in my neighbour's garage for the next year. It sat because I was grudgful and angry at myself for being such an idiot (idiot!!) and also because, I never got around to getting my M2. I eventually sold it to a nice guy from Hamilton, but remained determined.

On this Fifty2First list, to "get my M2", was intended to make my scooter dreams come true. It turns out though, I own a car. A 1996 purple Saturn, notably with over 260,000km and a black matte hood (another funny story you can ask me in person). Not that having a car prevents me from getting my M2 or a scooter, but the terrible misfortune of my expert skills in acquiring parking and driving infraction tickets apparently does. Tickets are expensive when you reach my level.

Perhaps my childhood sense of road riding "comfort and adventure" has something to do with it? I'm too relaxed for how reckless I am. Regardless, the bottom line is that I will not be getting my M2 this year. With lessons, which I obviously need, it would cost over $400. Instead, I have done the right thing and put my available funds toward my ticket collection. Get ready...

Not my proudest moment, but today, for the First time, I paid 6 tickets at once - totaling $343.25. Ouch! That brings my grand total for 2012 to $1234.36!

16 parking tickets
2 court appearances
2 speeding tickets
1 illegal left turn
1 expired plate sticker
1 illegally used hand held communication device

I'm sure this will all warrant a well deserved "Oh Sarah!!" from my mom. Scornful, but accepting. Similar to when I got a nose piercing at age 15, when she was clearly disappointed, but said only that I would likely get hit by lightening (I had braces at the time) and left it at that. Thanks for loving me for all that I am and all that I am not mom! But mostly, for teaching me to laugh at myself no matter what.

Perfect Strangers

Remember the DOS and DONTS photo section that Vice Magazine used to (or maybe still do) publish?! That stuff was beautiful. It was cutting and offensive (not at all why I liked it), but most importantly, it was a magnified peep show of rawly real people that begged the question of what is "cool". Some may argue that it was a sneaky way to poke fun while desperately trying to define cool, but from my vantage, I just saw a messy collage of people who ultimately all fit under the same headline. Hilarious.

I've had a conversation with many people on many occasions about how Toronto seems to have grown a goiter of a too-cool-for-school vibe in the past while. I hope this isn't just me getting older and crustier, and don't get me wrong, I adore this city, but sometimes it feels a bit serious about itself. Loaded finger pointing (at self or others) is a common symptom of this. Either by claiming fame, "I did it first" (who cares!), or placing blame, (I did not mean for that to rhyme by the way). Maybe it's the pronounced access we have to each other and the flooding forums we share our opinions about him/her/them/it (girl says curtly on her blog). I don't know. Anyway, I'm digressing from what is actually a really chipper entry. 

While I didn't meet my goal of 100 photos, I did exceed my expectations in thrill! A while ago now, I toured Toronto on foot, Keele to Broadview, Front to Bloor, to chum with and take photos of 54 willing strangers. Some of them I had to sweetly convince, others posed and hoped I wrote a fashion blog while others I sat drinking pints with for hours (great meeting you Ed & Harry!) 

Everyone (of course you know what I'm going to say) was a DO!! Here are few that stick out to me. To meet the rest, click HERE. 

Private Dancer

Earlier on in this project I learned the hard lesson that 7 songs is far too long when you're a paying customer. Reverse the roles (and remove the transaction) however and surprising things can emerge. I'm not one for public speaking or any type of live presentation for that matter, but give me a few glasses of wine, a video camera and a Korean muse and boy do I become a performer! That said, I've completed Fifty2First #20 (in my own Tina Turner sort of way). 

I'd originally thought that I might benefit from some expert instruction to harness my bau-chicka-bau-bau. It turns out, according to my one testimonial, that lessons were far from necessary. Acknowledging that I'll never claim Smooth Operator as a stage title, I'm still taking that to mean my sexy moves could not possibly be learned in a class as opposed to lessons wouldn't have made a difference. Right!?

At any rate, 7 songs remains too long, but I can handle 2 pretty well ;)

On the topic of 7....only 7 more Firsts to complete! Stick around.   
   

Tender Totse & The Final Count Down

On this 12th day of the 12th month of the 2012th year, I Sarah Margaret Power pledge to complete this precious project (that I started almost a year and a half ago) over the next 12 days! Yes friends, all I want for Christmas is to finish what I started. 

My intent with this new entry was to throw together some corny lines (as I do) and post a few pics documenting my most recent First. Time is ticking. As I'm writing now though, I realize that I'm way too sentimental to fake a no big deal attitude about my final days as a blogger. So, I've decided to complete Fifty2First #9 - "tell someone how I really feel". It's quite fitting as I have 9 more Firsts in the count down before the curtain closes. So here it is folks, I'm telling - you.   

A few months before I began this Blog I was in a crumby place. Newly fired, cheated on, homeless (living in a friends basement) and feeling pretty sorry myself. A real hot mess. I wanted to feel valid, but had no idea how. This really pissed me off because I'd always thought life was fairly easy. With time of course, that all went away as I learned and rebuilt (as we do).  

So, looking back and looking forward, the most true thing I can tell you is that I feel tender. (A word that makes me think of my friend Andy describing his Sunday hangover - in a good way). That light, vulnerable bounce when everything feels raw and real. I'm tender about my little life and about all the crazy incredible things so much bigger then it. Tender for the people around me and tendered by the guarantee that I'll live through many more hot messes with, without and because of them, but 100% gracious that I get to. 

Oops, didn't fully abandon the corniness after all. Anyway, hold tight (but not too tight, I'm tender) as I race through the next 12 days and 8 remaining Firsts. It's the final count down!