Grieving From Afar

I’m really not sure how to refer to this woman. She wasn’t a friend, but then again, “professional acquaintance” seems so… distant. The difference she made in my life was immense, and I wouldn’t be where I am today if not for her.

And maybe that’s why the whole experience has been… weird. I haven’t shed any tears for this woman, and to claim that I’m distraught would be disingenuous. Yet, I am saddened by her passing. I want to say this to her family. I want to hug her husband and kids and offer my sympathies, to let them know how she touched my life, even so briefly.

Still, it’s not my place to do so.

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How I Added A Side Of Spicy To My Life As A Working Mother

When did all my skirts gain an extra 10 cm of length? Why was my underwear drawer filled with things in cotton? Why did the bookshelves hold only kids’ books, law books, and my husband’s books, while all my favourite volumes of poetry were shoved to the back row? And my computer files? Three categories — Kids, Household, and Work.

From where I stood, thrill-seeking now looked like a disease. Itchy, embarrassing and contagious. Still, I would have been fine — if it were not for Will.

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I Traveled The World, Trying To Find My Home

They say, “Home is where the heart is.” But what if your heart is in more than one place?

They also say, “Home is where you hang your hat.” But what if you prefer to hang your hat in the same place every day?

These two old sayings seem to be at odds with one another. The former offers comfort by implying that wherever your heart longs to be is home, while the latter aims for embracing life, saying home is wherever you currently are. I have found both of these to be no comfort, and in fact, total crap.

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The High-Tech Solution To All My Dating Problems

When I began dating, the universe neglected to provide me with step-by-step instructions — only a vague sort of stage directions. He is here, you are there, hold hands, kiss, cut, thank you everyone, now we are done. The film director might have gone home, but I was still there, baffled.

So what happens next? After the kissing and the sex? How do I handle it? More specifically, how do I handle Matt?

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“Why Don’t I Receive Much Attention From Men?”

If you’re out with friends, do you look warm and inviting, like you’re having fun and hoping to meet people? Or do you look like you’re stuck someplace you don’t want to be, with people you don’t want to be with?

Start paying attention to your friends who do get attention from guys. How do they stand when they’re out? What sorts of facial expressions are they wearing? Are they smiling and laughing? Or do they stand there with a half-scowl on their face? If they catch a cute guy glancing at them, do they look back and smile? Or do they turn away without acknowledging the guy?

And, oh yeah, stop judging your friends because you think you have the goods and should be the one getting approached. Because, seriously, that’s not attractive.

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I Feel The Same Way About Meetings As My Students Feel About School

The attitude I have towards teacher meetings is the exact same attitude my students have towards school. Deep down, on some level, they know it’s important for them to be in class, to learn new skills, to attend school every day and graduate.

But, they also know they have time to develop these skills, they have time before they need to graduate. So, they just can’t get themselves engaged in class. And that’s when they start slyly chatting with their classmates whom they haven’t seen in over a month… checking Facebook on their phones… texting people… playing Angry Birds….

I get it now.

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I’m An Awkward Hugger

Meeting someone for the first time? Awesome.

What’s not so awesome? Hugging someone for the first time.

I confess, I’m an awkward hugger. To me, there’s nothing more anxiety-inducing than going in for that very first hug with someone I’ve recently become friends with.

The problem isn’t the first hug itself. The problem is when to attempt that first hug—when to level up the friendship from handshake / fist-bump / touch-on-the-arm / pat-on-the-back / casual-side-hug to….

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How I Played A Player

When I was small, I loved chess. It was like foretelling the future. By lining up the pieces a certain way, I could get my opponent (usually someone equally inept) to move the way I wanted.

Once I discovered men, chess palled (well, except strip chess). Men were mysterious. Men could call or not call. They could say they were in love with you or not even remember your name. The unpredictability of their erratic behaviour bugged me.

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Why You Should Be Worried If You Feel Chemistry On A First Date

Rapport… chemistry… butterflies… whatever you want to call it, it’s easier to manufacture than most people realize. In fact, I’d argue that it’s actually easiest to create rapport on a first date, when you have essentially your entire unabridged tome of personal information to draw from, with no fear of accidentally telling the same story twice.

No, to me, real rapport is when you’ve been with someone for a year-and-a-half, and you still look forward to talking to them every night, and you still find exciting things to talk about (and it’s only once every few weeks that you accidentally tell the same story again). That’s chemistry.

And that’s why I believe that if you meet someone who charms your pants off – perhaps literally – on a first date, you should exercise caution.

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I Grew Up Thinking “I Know” Is How You Respond To “I Love You”

As a piece of trivia, the original script actually called for Han to reply, “I love you, too.” However, Harrison Ford didn’t feel that Han, the swashbuckling, fearless bad boy, would ever say something so mushy. So he came up with “I know” on the spot, and romantic history was made.

Of course, as a seven-year-old boy, I wasn’t aware of this subtext. I wasn’t aware of the attitude that Han’s response represented. I just figured that he was expressing love the way men are supposed to express love.

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Spoiled By Early Success

That early success gave me a boost of confidence, but in some ways, it spoiled me for later life. I felt devastated when my college graduation wasn’t a repeat of the adulation heaped on me four years earlier. I cried that even though I was graduating summa cum laude and Phi Beta Kappa, I hadn’t been singled out for any individual awards. Being just one of many names on a list — even a fairly short list of the most elite students at my small, but well-regarded college — wasn’t good enough. It felt like a letdown, like I wasn’t personally valued by the school and its leaders.

I was angry — at myself for falling short in some way, for the fact that my best hadn’t been good enough, and at the school for not giving me the send-off I felt I deserved. I somehow convinced myself I had a right to feel betrayed, because I had taken out loans to attend a small private school in order to feel special and get individual attention, and the school wasn’t holding up its side of that unspoken bargain.

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Life Is Too Good Not To Breathe

Editor’s note: Peter Loggins is a legend within the swing dance community. He’s also an old friend and a source of inspiration. Aside from dancing, Peter used to be a competitive runner, skateboarder, and snowboarder, and is one hell of a tattoo artist. He is, in short, one of the baddest badasses you’ll ever meet. The confession below, which he

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Can I Be A Mom And Still Be Me?

Women describe motherhood like a cliff: It’s a leap of faith that no one knows if she’ll survive. Now that I’m pregnant with my first child, I keep hearing about all the things I’ll never do again: sleep eight solid hours… have sex… get drunk… wear a bikini… travel… save money… have adult conversations not about poo… change plans spontaneously.

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The Day I Realized I’m A Bad Boy

I watched the well-dressed Casanova over the brim of my beverage, contemplating the best way to cause him pain. I was already halfway through my ninja-assassin routine, in which I dispatch him with a swift blow to the balls. Naturally, the women he was entertaining with his ridiculously good looks would then swoon at my wondrous technique …. A rude voice

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Seeking Perfection By Being Imperfect

“No, this dress isn’t right,” my daughter exclaims. I want to roll my eyes. Instead, I smile and say, “Hmmm, I like it.” The Prom is approaching, and the dress debacle has begun. Clamoring for the perfect dress is our immediate mission, but seeking perfection is an ongoing issue. Hair, clothes, boyfriends, grades–perfection is the goal. Looking at my daughter

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