I had moved all my belongings into a storage unit my sister had arranged for me through one of her customers. I was very lucky to have the space for free. In exchange for a rebate in rent, I donated my nearly new appliances to our landlord. My sister and I slept together in the same room and bed until her ex-boyfriend moved out. He was such a douche. He seemed to refuse to acknowledge they had broken up. I had fun because I had someone to pick on and take my aggression out on… I was very sarcastic and quite the bitch in my 20s. I didn’t realize it, but my bitchy sarcasm was my wall of steel, my fortress – better to chase people away now than get screwed over; those who saw thru the façade had a chance, but not really, nobody got ‘in’ to know me. No one. I liked it like that. My long-standing opinion is that people are not to be trusted; they all just want something from you. Those who were too dumb to run or thought they saw through the façade would eventually face my brutal honesty and oversharing; my way of weeding out the weak. Only those who had past trauma tended to be able to stomach my life and even then, I didn’t make connections with people, when I got close to someone I would sabotage the friendship. This is something I’ve come to realize, thanks to therapy.
Albert, my sister’s ex who was sleeping in my soon-to-be bedroom had no idea who he was dealing with. I remember that he never cleaned and just took up space - typical mouth breather. My sister and I were raised to be clean freaks; except my sister doesn’t have ADHD and her energy is not limitless, so while she studied for exams, the house never got cleaned unless I did it. In this respect, it annoyed me that she could leave the house in a state of disaster all the time… so I cleaned like a woman possessed and I made meals for us. Albert’s pride and joy was his stereo system. I didn’t give a shit about it. I just wanted him to GTFO so I could move my stuff in. I had my cat with me, Coucouche and it was a hard adjustment period for both of us. I kept him kenneled overnight because he was safe in his cage, but my sister’s two male cats sprayed him constantly….. it was that or he’d get the shit kicked out of him and raped nearly nightly. I had to get Albert out of the house.
I love Pledge. At home, Big M insisted we dust with just a damp rag, but once I moved into my own space, I used Pledge on everything! That shit makes everything shiny and I love it… I don’t care if it’s wax. Albert told me Pledge is bad and should never be used on his stereo system. Huh. Well then…. Every Saturday when he was on the sofa, I’d pony-up my hair, grab my Pledge, a rag, and start with dusting the tower speakers. He moved out 2 months later. His mother then started to send us (Roxanne and me) hate mail! She was upset that my sister had broken Albert’s poor heart and that we mistreated him. Seriously? The first thing I did was correct all her grammar and spelling mistakes then posted her 7 page letter back to her. We kept up this up for several months until I got bored … the woman was so clueless, we just stopped responding.
That December, Roxanne and I decided to surprise the ‘Rents with a visit over Christmas. I had left my husband, which I felt was the cause of the friction between my parents and I and figured all would be good now! I had a full time job, I had a part time job as a receptionist, I was getting divorced, and soon I’d have enough money for first and last, would find my own place and move out of my sister’s apartment and achieve true independence. Roxanne and I were so giddy at the prospect of surprising them! I had purchased all the ingredients to make the PERFECT family Christmas dinner. Roxanne had recently purchased her first car so we packed our stuff and headed out after dinner on December 23rd.
We didn’t get far because we discovered the car didn't have working window washer fluid and the windscreen needed to be cleaned more often than one could stop on the side of the road to throw snow on it to clear the salt which was causing glare from the oncoming traffic headlights. Tail between our legs, we returned home. The next day, Roxanne found a resourceful technician who was able to add a switch in the dashboard bypassing the broken electric switch. Renewed with a new sense of excitement we left the South and headed North for Family Christmas!
What a fuckin' disaster.
We made it to the North in a car that probably never passed safety but was still sold to my sister: it had bald tires, no heat, and a variety of different mechanical problems. We’re lucky to have made it to The North in one piece. It was colder than -45oC and my sister and I drove up in blankets and heavy wool socks with slippers; scrapping the glass on the inside of the car – we even slid in the ditch a few times during the snow storm. We had no idea we were also driving with different sized tires.
We finally made it to The North and Jackass declared he already knows that the only thing the car needs is a rad flush and that will make the heater work; so down to Canadian Tire he went. In the meantime, I am over the moon with excitement at finally being able to host a family dinner where I cook for just the four of us on December 25th.
On December 24th, I hear Big M talking to someone on the phone and all of a sudden, we can’t have family dinner on December 25th because Big M has invited her newly adopted charity case – a family of 9 to dinner. Roxanne and I can have dinner at her friend’s house – Kandace, her #1 employee and we can have a "nice family dinner on December 27th instead" (Big M knew full well we were leaving for Québec on the 27th - she often played these little games assuming we'd pick "home" over our biological mother). Truthfully, Kandace treated us better than Big M ever did and I’m fairly certain she cared more about us too. I left my groceries in the trunk of the car so they’d remain frozen. If we couldn’t have a nice family Christmas dinner here ON CHRISTMAS, I’d have it at my mother’s for New Year’s when Roxanne and I made it there in a few days.
Big M hosted her new family with Jack and we celebrated quietly with Kandace. No apologies were made, Big M had just made new friends and was 100% love-bombing these folks. They were Aboriginal and Big M decided to take them on as a charity case. They took everything she would give them and once the family patriarch passed away they realized how crazy she was and ditched her. Good for them, too bad for me because she gave them all my belongings that were left in the basement and that I actually wanted - namely my first communion dress.
December 27th my sister and I were ready to visit maman in Northern Québec with our newly ‘inspected’ car. At least we’d have heat four our 4.5 hour trek in another storm in very cold winter weather. Sure enough, 40 minutes into our travels, the heat gave out and we were bundled up in our blankets, coats and scarves once again. We decided to take a B highway to shorten our journey and wound up in the ditch again requiring a tow. We finally made it to Québec: 2 little ice cubes requiring 2 hours for our toes to feel again. Maman took the car to her mechanic for a full inspection. When she picked up the car, $1800-ish dollars in repairs later, she was absolutely livid! The technician informed her we were lucky to be alive. The wheel bearings were loose with several missing, the tires were bald, different size, and a few other things, the rad needed a complete replacement and new brakes were required. After we left, she called Jack and gave him a piece of her mind. He acted like he’d done us a favour by having the rad flushed… for $40. My mother accused him of not caring because an inspection would have cost more. She was 100% right, selfish and cheap Jackass.
After hearing that I was robbed of a nice, quiet, family Christmas dinner, maman insisted that December 31 would be just “us” and exactly the Christmas we never had: peaceful, quiet, cooking, in our pajamas just watching the snow, talking, and not being yelled at. Such a simple Christmas I only got in my 20s. I cooked the entire meal and it was delicious in fact, my mom still talks about it 24 years later. We returned to The South in a safe, warm car, with working windshield wipers too!
My sister and I lived together for nearly 18 months. I moved after finding full time employment in the downtown core working for a telecom company. I was hired as the Gal Friday in June 1998 and a few months later I was promoted to Executive Assistant to the CFO that saw my salary double overnight. No, I had no idea what I was doing, but anytime anyone asked me if I knew how to do “X” I’d say “Yes!” and then look it up or ask someone else. To this day, no one has a clue that’s how I did my job. I was the corporate policies and procedures writer working for the Office Manager before my promotion. I was already an expert in Microsoft Word after having worked my government job for just three months then I took all the trainings offered and became an expert in all the other Microsoft applications. I got tired of the 90-minute commute on the subway and found an adorable one-bedroom apartment just north of Greek Town.
While working at the telecom company I became best friends with a co-worker. In reality she was like the older sister I never had but always wanted. We did everything together; spending nearly every waking moment together; she even moved to an apartment building one block away from me. We were hot, blonde, inseparable and ready to mingle! Natasha and I were glued at the hip, did everything and went everywhere together. We spent nearly every night dancing at the bar/club taking Sundays and Mondays off. I loved her like a sister.
We both loved to cook and she introduced me to Mary-Jane. Together, we ruled the downtown scene attending many concerts, events, and mostly… making the absolute most of our 20s. She was one person I trusted nearly immediately – another trauma survivor, I didn’t have many walls up when we were together. Eventually we also met other friends and jealousy tore our friendship apart.
Neither of us was willing to accept that we could have other friends in our lives and it wouldn’t affect ‘us’ but we were very much “all or nothing” – or maybe that was just me. It just felt like at one point she made me choose and regretfully, I didn’t choose her. I should have apologized but .. I met my stubborn match in her and.. well.. that was the end of that. I like to say I live my life without regret, but I wish I had had therapy back then to recognize the signs that I see now… communication would have solved our problems, but I didn’t possess the skills nor did I know how to communicate effectively; I was raised to believe I was always in the wrong. More importantly, I was absolutely out of touch with my emotions and always had been. Instead of talking to her like a normal person, I accepted that I was wrong. But now I realize we just needed to re-visit our boundaries. She made a friend with someone I absolutely hated and I did the same. Fitting that this posting is coming out today, September 8, Happy Birthday Natasha... you know who you are 💕.
Natasha and I had so many adventures and misadventures together, I feel like I actually grew up in our short years as BFFs. We attended Taste of the Danforth yearly and she even introduced me to Mr. GQ - more on that soon. My fondest memories are of her and I together. I miss her, truly and deeply.
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