Lu-Lu-Lucy's Rant

Picking up the mess | Living life | sans tiger-parents


Taking the plunge

I did it! I registered for four prerequisite courses to prep for getting into Nursing school!

It feels right. It feels far better than when I thought I wanted to do event planning. I want to put my compassion and empathy to use – neither construction nor event planning gives me that satisfaction. (granted, I never fully gave event planning a try)

The earliest intake for Nursing would be in January of 2017; and that is assuming I pass the prereq. courses in flying colors. I freaking better.

I realize I have pursued or thought I was interested in several things since I quit my last job. And I may appear to be a bit all over the place, but nursing is the one thing I kept returning to. Somehow, it feels really good and exciting and scary, but a good-kinda-scary.

I am excited!!

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Learning how to ski at 34

If anyone had told me even two years ago that I would learn how to ski at the ripe, old age of 34, I would’ve laughed in their face. I would’ve told them my body is too old for that shit.

We hear that quite often, don’t we?

“I am too old to party!”

“I am too old to start over!”

“I am too old to *insert verb*!”

I whole-heartedly believed in that shit.

Until, in my 30’s, I learned how to draw. I taught myself 3D-modeling. I learned how to ski. Yes, my hubster is a ski instructor – but it is always the instructors who express shock that we didn’t get divorced over the ordeal! I have to say my hubster is super duper patient and such a great teacher. He didn’t mind hanging out with me night after night on the bunny hill while I practiced, surrounded by three or four year olds whipping by on tiny skis or snowboards.

Speaking of them wee toddlers skiing, they were a huge inspiration to my learning how to ski. I see these cute little things bundled up, flying down the hill. If they fall or crash, they get right back up. No fear. No complaints. Don’t give a shit if it’s cold af, snot running down their little nosies.

More often than not, I see a small class of wee todds coming down a blue run while I’m going up the chairlift. I would talk myself into going down the same run, only to regret it as soon as I had gone beyond the point of no return.

I didn’t have the happiest of childhood. Now, I yearn to live like a child. To embrace that innocence of having no fear, of never having been defeated, of not feeling tired, of not having been told “you can’t do it”…. I want to live life with a clean slate. My mother did not give me that, but I choose to give it to myself.

I feel (hope) that the days of hatin’ on the monsters are over. I don’t want to waste another second thinking about “if only they had…” I need to live my life. Everything they never taught me as a parent, I will now teach myself.

I don’t want to be bound by the constraints of the society.

I don’t want to live by what’s socially acceptable and what’s not.

I want to approach the world with this fierce, unapologetic curiosity of a child.

The way I see it, we are never too old for anything.

I get it, we get hurt along the way. Shit happens. Somewhere along the journey, we learn and hold onto fear, to pre-brace for the falls. But we mustn’t forget to live life! Shit happens, deal with what you got as best you can, and that’s the best any of us can do.


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If there is one thing I could go back in time and change…

A fellow blogger had posted this question, I’ve decided to answer with my own post. I briefly browsed through the hundreds of replies, some said that their ‘regret’ is not something they can mention ‘here,’ others listing a long list of “I wish I had,” many responded philosophically, saying that everything in the universe happens for a reason and are very happy with who they are etc, still, some answered with true regret sharing their heart-felt personal stories.
For me, it is simply a fun little exercise. Because…
1. I firmly believe that regrets don’t do any good.
2. Time machines do not exist (to the best of my knowledge), so this is a purely hypothetical question.
In any case, if I were to change one thing, I would choose not to have aborted. Because my older one would be 14 this year. My life would have turned out so differently. I didn’t have the courage to take on the responsibility then. Or to face the judging eyes and the ridicule. Or the possibility of not finishing my undergrad.
Once in awhile, I wonder how life would have turned out.

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Rape Culture at the University of Ottawa

People say that there’s equality. That is the biggest f*cking pile of BULLSHIT ever. I guess by “people,” I mean “men.” This topic has been on my mind, I will make the time this weekend to finish up my post. For now, please read up on this BS that is happening at the University of Ottawa.

The Belle Jar

On February 10th, Anne Marie Roy, president of the Student Federation of the University of Ottawa, was sent screenshots of a chat that had taken place earlier in the month between two student federation board members and several other students who are either elected to or participate in various faculty associations. The chat had taken place during the student federation elections, and all five men involved were members of a campaign opposing Roy’s (Roy has been president of the student federation since May 2013, and was re-elected this month). The conversation was about Roy, and the portion she was given contained graphic sexual descriptions about what the men wanted to do to her, including a rape joke that could, potentially, be taken as a rape threat.

Below are the screenshots. The participants are as follows:

Bart Tremblay: a non-elected student involved with the association for the Arts faculty

Alexandre Giroux:…

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