The Social

On Friday, September 13 (yes, Friday the 13th), my two year old threw up all over me.

Head to toe- he covered me in mash of oatmeal and grapes exactly 20 minutes before I was supposed to leave my house for a 'girls day out' birthday celebration with my mom and sister.

TWENTY MINUTES before I was supposed to leave for a taping of Canada's newest talk show- The Social.

So, while on the verge of tears because (yes, I'm bragging) my hair looked really good, I put the two year old and myself in the shower, got the vomit stench out of my hair, did a hair/makeup re-do and left my house (an hour late), praying I'd make it to the show on time.

SPOILER ALERT- I did:)

(oh, and my son is fine. The vomiting was brought on by too much spinning in my office chair.)

So, The Social.

I have to admit that I had only watched two episodes of the show before I sat in the audience. I was already familiar with a few of the hosts from their other gigs on CP24 and eTalk (and of course my favourite gossip site- laineygossip.com), but I wasn't entirely sure about their chemistry- about them, even, and how they would fill an entire hour.

A group of women - around my age - opining about things that are buzzing on social media? It sounds like something I SHOULD be into, though.

Sissy and I posing in the audience of The Social

If you don't know me in real life, then let me tell you that I pretty much live my life on social media. I blog here about the ups and downs of parenthood and life in general, I tweet about my annoyances and love of everything from the Blue Jays to Miley, I write a column on education/parenting for the Toronto Sun, and I Facebook and Instagram everything else. I love people who are an open book and not afraid to have opinions (even controversial ones).

But I just wasn't sure about this show.

How real were these 'media personalities' going to be? How fun would it be to sit in an audience of dolled-up ladies (and a guy!) and listen to... chatter?

Truth?

It was amazing! And after our set visit, I am totally sold on this show.

We were there on a Friday, which meant that the AMAZING Jess was on the panel. This girl, I am telling you, is a star. She is witty and fun and real and insightful and brings a breath of fresh air to the panel. I will forever kick myself in the butt for not putting together that she was the Maclean's writer that I have read and adored- I'm not sure why it didn't click (I'm usually really good with names, especially when they tell me where they used to work! oy!!). I would have picked her brain regarding my on-the-cusp-of-something writing career for as long as she would have let me!

Traci, Cynthia and Melissa were exactly what I would hope a host would be in real life. They were warm and smart and engaging and huggy (ya, it's a word). I wanted to sit down with a coffee and talk parenting tips, clothes, and life in general with them.

But, hooo-boy, I fell in love with Lainey. I love me some good snark, which she brings, BUT she also has a graciousness and warmth that I didn't really expect. After the show she spent an amazing amount of time talking to the audience and seemed genuinely grateful and interested in what they had to say.

So, in short, if you are thinking about visiting the set of The Social for a live taping- do it! I have been to the other major Canadian talk shows as an audience member and I can honestly say that this was my best experience.

Oh, and one more thing. That blonde in the white pants in the picture below- don't you think she would be an AMAZING guest to speak about the 'mom blogging' phenomenon (maybe even provide a round-up of what's hot on the 'mom blogs' for their site on the regular...)? I mean, she just looks right at home with that group of ladies. And did you SEE how often she was shown during the show?? Just hinting... hardcore. Put me in coach!

The hosts, my sis, my mom and me...great day!

A Birthday

Tomorrow I turn 33.

I'm not sure why, but it's a difficult number to get my head around. Maybe it's because I don't feel 33. Maybe it's because 33 makes me feel like I am "in my 30s", which seems old to me. Maybe it's because 33 sounds so grown up and makes those crows feet around my eyes seem legit- they're there for a reason now.

Regardless, I'm just not looking forward to this birthday.

Despite my awesome life. Despite all the accomplishments and milestones. Despite being genuinely happy and satisfied (with everything but my age). Despite the much needed pampering I will enjoy (this hair needs to be blonde again!!!).

But, no matter which way I slice it, tomorrow I am turning 33- another year full of possibilities and unknowns. Here's hoping it's a fantastic one!

I Could Have Been Amanda Lindhout...

From the day I heard of Amanda Lindhout's kidnapping in Somalia, I was sick with worry.

I don't know Amanda. But in some (perhaps trite, self-serving) way, I feel like I do. I feel like I could have been Amanda. 

Perhaps it is the similarity in age, the similarity of growing up in a small-Western Canada town, the similarity of a desire to work as a journalist, or just the shared desire to be in the world- there was just something about the look in Amanda's eyes in the pictures that flashed across my computer screen (Albeit, not often enough. The under-reporting of her story was always a mystery and tragedy to me.). I saw myself.

For as long as I can remember, I wanted to write for a living, but I decided not to go to journalism school when I was accepted because it meant moving to a city I didn't want to live in- I earned a degree in History and then Education, instead. 

But that burning inside of me to write? It was still there. And occasionally I would see a story on the television, or hear something on the radio, and I would remember how much I had once believed my words could make a difference in the world.

I played around a bit and wrote about issues with Aboriginal youth in Saskatchewan and the need for improved post-secondary opportunities- those stories got a bit of attention- and I dreamed of writing for the disenfranchised, poor, disposed and forgotten on a larger scale. I knew I could do it and I could make a real difference.

And just when it seemed that my opportunity was on the horizon... 

I moved to Toronto and I met my husband. 

We set down roots and I began working as a teacher. And I was happy doing that. But those roots meant that the 'adventure' of traveling and being a voice to the voiceless were permanently put on hold and I had to turn down (always unpaid, in my case) opportunities to immerse in other cultures and write about my experiences. I accepted that because, deep down, there was a small part of me that was afraid of my dream and what might happen to me should I follow it.

So when I first heard Amanda's story in 2008, it really stirred something inside of me. 

She was a year younger than I was, with that same burning desire to write and bleeding heart for humanity. But she had done what I had chosen not to do- she had put herself out there in the world in a way I had shied away from. With every news story I read (and I read them all), I saw what my future may have been.

I'm not sure that I'll ever be able to read her memoir- A House In The Sky- in its entirety. I want to, but perhaps it strikes too close to home for me, as a female whose dream of overseas journalism would have likely taken me to the exact places Amanda travelled. Perhaps my bleeding heart can't take even a small taste of the atrocities she faced in Somalia.

But her story post-Somalia- that I can read. Her gracious spirit and the humanitarian work she has thrown herself into is truly a gift to all of us. The rarity of seeing a woman who has faced so much and yet come out on the other side with such strength is not lost on me. 

And so I keep Amanda's name as an alert on my newsfeed. I still read every single story that mentions her. I still think about her all the time. Yes, because she lived through my single greatest fear but much more because she shows me, time and again, the power of words, the importance of telling stories for those who can not, and the strength of the human spirit to overcome. How her story reminds me of my dreams to speak for those who cannot, and how those dreams are not (as I had once thought) gone.