I don’t do well away from home. Any (and all) of my friends and family can attest to that (especially my parents, who spent hundreds of dollars over the years buying me one-way tickets back home after I insisted that this time I’d really stay for the whole trip). And I’m a total creature of habit, so traveling to exotic faraway lands sounds more like a punishment than a fun pastime to me. There’s only four places I’ve never been to and would love to see: Paris (and the Eiffel Tower), San Francisco, Rome, and Amsterdam. I want to take in the history of Europe, and San Fran just seems like a totally chill place to hang out.

And my two favourite destinations in the whole wide world is Florida and New York. There’s nothing better than hanging in your old ‘hood (Fla) and there aren’t even words to describe the bustle of NYC.

If you could go anywhere in the world, where would it be?

There’s a strange (kinda reassuring) pattern that happens to me  following the passing of a family member – it may sound ridiculous, but I always feel reconnected or more aware of nature around me. After my aunt passed away last year I started getting visits from my squirrel friend. Mind you, I was coaxing him by putting out peanuts, but there was something very soothing about this regular visitor who appeared at the same time and would “call” to me through the screen until I fed him. We nicknamed him “Scarface” because he had a ripped ear, and I guessed that he was a scrapper. My aunt could be scrappy too.

After my husband’s cousin Patrick passed away, the most beautiful birds started to appear on my balcony in the mornings. It would be early, just past 7, and as I was settling down with my first cup of coffee a strikingly red cardinal, the first I’d ever seen, landed on my outside railing, sang a quick ditty and flew off. Bright yellow finches danced on my balcony. One afternoon, while I was sitting outside reading one of Pat’s favourite books, a gorgeous butterfly fluttered around my head and “took a seat” opposite me on the chair. It sat there for a long time, slowly lifting its wings up and down, before it took to the air and flew away.

I like to think that when I sit on a park bench and reflect on the family that has passed, and a cool breeze gently picks up and encircles me, that it’s them. I think our loved ones are all around us in the beauty of  nature, only we’re often too caught up in reality to notice these subtle cues.

And why wouldn’t this be true? Wouldn’t it be heavenly to dance from tree to bird, wind to sea, on a never-ending spiritual journey? Man’s biggest dream is to take flight and have the ability to fly. People long to be able to encompass the flawless beauty of a yellow tulip. Everyone wants the infinite strength and wonder of the oceans and the skies.

Our passed loved ones are always with us but they can’t just “pop by” to give us a message – that would be against the rules. But if we open our hearts and minds to receive the naturally wondrous things that are unfolding all around us all the time, we can see that our loved ones do make surprise appearances… they’re in the nest of baby birds outside your front door, they live in the swaying oak tree reaching out to the sky, they are the birds dancing in the tree outside my window every morning and the stars I wish on overhead.

It is soooo cliche, but my wedding day really was the best day of my entire life. I waited 13 looong years to get engaged to my high school sweetheart. I watched a lot of friends get rings and have weddings throughout that time and I dreamt of the day it would be my turn. And when it was, I was psyched for 2.3 days… until I had to start planning a party for 120 people, and it suddenly became not so fun.

Choosing seemingly inane things like centrepieces and flowers, which I knew nothing about, was frustrating. I hated the exorbitant dollar signs on everything. The idea of having to find a “perfect” dress put pressure on the denim-Converse girl in me. Everyone had their opinions on etiquette, vendors, traditions (I recall telling an older woman in a dress store that my bridesmaids were wearing black, and she winced, imploring, “Black?!?! At your wedding?!” Or I remember the woman in the bridal gown boutique who asked how long I’d been with my boyfriend. “13 years,” I replied. “13 years?!” she said back. “And you want to wear white? C’mon dear- who are you kidding?”)

But when wedding weekend finally arrived (it had felt like it never would), it was the most incredible weekend ever. On Friday my dad and I did airport runs to pick up two dear, dear friends from elementary school who traveled from Florida and St. Louis to be there. When the three of us were together (the first time in years) that afternoon, we went to a Starbucks on St. Catherine Street, and as we caught up, I had to pinch myself- my oldest dearest friends were actually in Montreal for my wedding. Wow.

Then came all of our family from far and wide- Fredericton, Toronto, Barrie, Ottawa, Guelph, and beyond, all for us. We had a rehearsal dinner and, because most of the out-of-towners were staying at the Novotel downtown, the night before the wedding we all convened at Ye Olde Orchard pub across the street. As I looked around the room where I’d gone on countless pub crawls (and my bachelorette), now sitting there was my family, my dad’s best friends from high school, my best friends from high school, neighbors I’d grown up with in Toronto, some of my new aunts-, uncles-, and cousins-in-law, and it all seemed so surreal to have such different people from my life all in one place.

The wedding morning was rainy and cold but I didn’t care. Me and all my girls (and moms) went to the salon and spent the morning getting our hair and makeup done. We went back to the hotel for lunch and to get into our dresses. The ceremony was beautiful. The reception was a fantastic blur of dancing, eating, hugging, singing, and loving every moment.

Sunday morning was a small out-of-towner breakfast where I got a chance to see friends and family one more time. I said goodbye to my friend Danielle as she headed back to Florida, and I remember we bawled in the hotel lobby as we hugged, saying, “It was too short!” I got to spend the day with my other friend Val, who was only leaving in the afternoon, and we took hours just driving around downtown and Westmount, stopping off in Old Montreal for a long coffee. She bought each of us a ring to remember the day (see the Panda below).

And then it was done. POOF! Just like that. All the months of imagining what it would be like, all the planning, the journal filled with reminders and to-dos, culminating in a whirlwind weekend that ended too soon.

I look back at the pictures, taken by my dear friends Daniel and Davina, who fulfilled my first (and biggest) wedding wish- to have their artistic eye capture my special day, and their photos are beyond words. They encapsulate everything I wanted my wedding to be- fun. It’s so unbelievably humbling to know that that many people love you enough to take time out of their lives and celebrate this momentous occasion in your life. There are no words to describe how grateful I am to my parents for their generosity and making  the day happen in the first place. I feel honoured to have such an awesome mother-in-law who helped me dress shop and spent hours with me and my folks doing all the lofty wedding projects I planned- apple spice favors, cupcake flags, homemade wine labels, invitations, and out-of-towner kits. I am so in love with our friends and brothers, who organized and attended showers and bachelor/bachelorette parties for us, stood next to us as bridesmaids and groomsmen, and made our wedding a fun, memorable event, like all of our times together.

And I’m grateful to Michael, who finally sucked it up, got down on one knee, and asked me to marry him!

A few pics to show you, courtesy of daniel+davina, the best photographers in the whole world!

There are a lot of apartment upgrades I look forward to it when it comes time for Mike and I to FINALLY buy our first house. Apart from having our own washer and dryer (probably the biggest perk) as well as a kitchen bigger than my thumb, I’m excited to find a house that has an extra room for my home office. It probably won’t have the bells and whistles I’m dreaming of (at first), but in an ideal world I would have so many home office luxuries.

First of all, my dream office would be in a separate studio in my beautiful backyard, surrounded by trees with busy birdhouses, gardens and lots of blooming flowers. It would have French doors that I would swing and leave open, and windows around the perimeter of the space with flowing sheer white curtains. There’d be loads of bookshelves lined with the latest wedding and home decor titles along with all my press samples. I would have great things on the walls, like my diploma, my first magazine cover (WALL to WALL- signed by the staff congratulating me on a great issue), and some of my favourite pics from my assignments over the years, like me octagon-side at UFC, the team pic from a big wedding gown shoot I organized, and a few gorgeous Daniel-shots from homes around the city we photographed together. I’d have a big wood desk with the ultimate ergonomic chair as well as a sitting area with a comfy loveseat,  club chair and ottoman. There would be overflowing magazine racks, a filing cabinet (which is a tad more functional than the cardboard box system I have going), and lots of bulletin boards. I’d have wood floors with differently-patterned area rugs. And maybe I’d throw in a bean bag chair, just for fun. Ahhhh one day…

Here are some pictures for inspiration.

How great is this- different colours of chalkboard paint to create a calendar!

1- I love cruise control. I was always afraid of it – I didn’t like not having my foot right next to the brake pedal. But I recently used it a lot on a roadtrip and now I absolutely love it.

2- When I have my own dryer one day, not only will I use it to dry my clothes (and my clothes only- not my neighbour’s!) but I’ll also warm up my towel for when I get outta the shower and use it as a makeshift iron.

3- Girls’ public bathrooms are truly disgusting. You would think boys would be the dirtier species when it comes to bathrooms, but I would say that 9 times out of 10, girls are worse. And I can’t figure out why. Maybe because we have more going on? We have to sit for everything? I dunno…

4- Nothing is more frustrating than when you buy a coffee, fold back the lid so you have a sipping area, and the flippin’ plastic tab won’t stay stuck back. You go to take a sip and it releases, flicking coffee in your face. GOOD MORNING!

5- Strawberry-scented shampoo rocks. So does watermelon slush aloe. Apparently I like smelling like fruit cocktail.

6- If I were rich, I would buy scented laundry water. It’s the most inane thing in the world, but it comes in pretty little bottles and the idea of it sounds lovely.

I never wanted to be in broadcast journalism. I think this was reinforced when I was required to take an intro to radio class in university and at the end of the semester had a 40% (but the professor gave me an incomplete because, as he put it, “You’ve done all the work- you’ve just done it terribly,” so at least he didn’t fail me). I always thought I preferred hiding out in my sweatpants reporting from behind a computer, hopefully being heard but never seen.

But now that I’ve been writing for several years, I wonder what it would be like to do TV or radio. I mean, I do luuurve to talk, so sitting in a radio booth getting paid to chat – it’s like having a job that was made for me. I also love doing celeb interviews, so doing them in front of a camera for a place like ET Canada would be pretty incredible.

I guess this pesky “stage fright” thing has also prevented me from pursuing any sort of broadcast venue in the past. I hate being the centre of attention or getting up and speaking in front of people. When I started in this business, I was terrified to pick up the phone and call someone for an interview. I remember dialing the first two numbers and then hanging up, then trying again and getting to the fifth number and then hanging up… this went on for the first few weeks but I got over it, and today I can pick up the phone and do an interview on the fly.

Can you see it now – me standing on the red carpet at the Oscars, all dolled up, double-cheek kissing Johnny Depp and Meryl Streep after they spot me and weave their way through the crowd to get to me, bypassing all the other journalists in their path… “Oh Johnny, Meryl, it’s been so long! How are you?”…

Martha Stewart, or rather the creative team she has working on her magazine, are craft gods. The ideas they come up with are so practical, beautiful, and unique, her “Good Things” section never ceases to amaze me (poor Mike- every issue I catch myself oohing and saying, “Now how clever is this?!“) I’ve always loved painting and scrapbooking, and I’ve ventured into more complicated craft projects in the last several years. And this week, I will be making a pinata for my friends’ little guy Mayson’s second birthday – an Elmo head filled with edible treats and toys. It’s the second pinata I’m attempting, and I worry that I’ll end up making a Franken-Elmo and scaring all the kiddies…

So I thought it would be fun to share some of my more ambitious projects.

- My Christmas village – my friend Jenn bought me a ceramic house, paint and a light fixture to get me started, and since then I’ve added a fruit market, a candy shop, a mechanic’s garage, a B&B, and a bridge. They take hours to paint, and my heart broke last year when I was packing up my little town and I dropped one of the pieces on my kitchen floor, watching 16+ hours of meticulous painting smash into dust.

- Shadowboxes – it seems like such an easy idea to preserve memorabilia. I buy a shadowbox and glue cut-out pictures, ticket stubs, receipts and other keepsakes in layers. I’ve made them for my parents and mother-in-law following my wedding as well as my bestie Jackie after her wedding.

- Pinatas – my friend Christine had never had a pinata as a kid, so I made one for her in the shape of a big ladybug. She thought it was too pretty to break and it sat fully-stuffed on her desk for months.

- Layer jars – at Christmastime I am known for my gift baskets, which always include a jar layered with ingredients for brownies, cookies, cakes, or soups. I also did a version of this idea for my wedding favours (baked apple spice mix)

- Flavoured olive oil – it’s one of the easiest homemade gifts to make a big impact. I bought beautiful tall, thin bottles, filled them with olive oil (which I bought in bulk- much cheaper), and then added fresh herbs – sprigs of thyme or oregano, peppercorns, cloves of garlic, and more. You can also do small bottles filled with baby oil with flower petals, orange peel, or lavender sprigs.

Any other Martha-like projects you want to share?

1- I really can’t stand Justin Bieber. Yes, fine, he’s Canadian and super popular and out there representing, but the hair tossing and flirting with female journalists/hosts is just downright puke-inducing.

2- Those reusable cloth towels on the roll in public bathrooms scare the bejesus outta me.

3- If you have a sound system in your car that makes your car frame vibrate LOUDER than the tunes, err, you’re a DB.

4- Things I am saving for a special occasion – Harry Potter jellybeans (in flavours like boger, earwax, pencil shavings, dirt, and baby wipes), a packet of vanilla biscotti coffee, and $600 in Deco Decouverte gift cards.

5- Dear neighbour upstairs, Please stop shaking out your hairy dirty area rug on the balcony and littering my balcony with your ickiness. K, thanks.

Facebook is like a yearbook for this generation of picture-loving, info-sharing tech-heads. And there’s no denying how fun it is to reconnect with friends from our childhood and catch up on things.

I’m very much the same person that I was in high school. When I look in the mirror I definitely do not see an almost-thirty-year-old staring back (but those little lines in the corners of my eyes are throwing me off). In many ways I feel more empowered and secure with myself than I ever did in high school when I was the awkward tall girl. But every so often, I can feel myself slipping into that adolescent funk and remember what it was like to feel that way (only now I can have waffles or Lik-A-Maid for dinner to make me feel better and won’t get in trouble for it!). I’m still with Mike and yes, we are married now, but we still live in our first apartment (hey, it’s cheap!) and order out and have very few major responsibilities (like mortgages and offspring). I feel the same as my 15-year-old counterpart.

Kim and her gorgeous twin girls

Stephanie and cute little Collin

What really makes me feel old is seeing my friends who are now mommies (of some very beautiful children, I might add). Sure, my friends in Montreal are doing the baby thing, but I’ve only known them since my 20s, so it’s not as shocking when they’re walking around wiping noses and giving timeouts. It’s when I see my childhood friends – little girls I grew up with and played house with who are now playing house for real – that really shocks me. When did we grow up?? When did we go from girls who went ice skating every Friday night, had sleepovers and prank-called people, went to church dances and slow-danced with boys for the first time, to women who are raising little boys and girls who are following in our footsteps? We were the ones doing the following not that long ago, weren’t we?

Danielle and her awesome pregger belly

Jess and her beautiful daughter Kylee

(OK, even though your kids make me feel old, there musta been something in the Boca water because all of you make some darn cute babies! xxoo…) I just wanted to comment on the baby thing. It freaks me out sometimes.

Thanks… gonna go have a Ring Pop…

Jess's handsome little man Frankie