30 December 2011

Looking Back: Best of Divulge with Dani

Hi faithful readers (of four)! I've decided to approach my blog with a clean slate, always ever moving forward. But before I do, I thought I would catch you up with some of my favourite blogs since inception. In the off-chance that someone new reads my blog, they can save themselves the ordeal of having to read all my crap posts to find the gems. If you are a regular reader (all four of you), then you can re-live my humour, insight, bullshit, and general thoughts! It's sometimes good to look back, to see how far you have come....

Here is a list of what I think are my best blogs. Some reflect humour. Some reflect my struggles and thoughts on life. Some are just plain fun (or funny). So have a seat, grab a drink, and read away mes amies!

So I hope you enjoyed those posts. It gives you a bit of a sense of my blogging style, which is to say, totally random.

2011: Meh.

Hello faithful readers (all four of you).  It's been a while. In fact, I'm quite embaressed that I have blogged a whopping total of one time this year. But that's neither here nor there. I'm back now. It's all part of the rediscover-what-I-love-to-do journey I've been on lately.

This last year has been, shall we say, interesting.  I've had the best, and worst, moments of my life bundled up into 365 days. My mood has been all over the map this year. The best I can some up 2011 is: meh.

The highs? The love of my life, Mr. M, proposed to me in Las Vegas on my birthday! We went for a week, staying at the beautiful Mandalay Bay with a strip view. After a day of pampering, including a spa treatment and a trip to the beauty salon, we went to The Mix at the top of the Mandalay Bay. After a glorious, and expensive, dinner, he popped the question. This day will forever be one of the best moments of my life. The love I have for Mr. M overwhelms me everyday of my life. He's truly my soulmate and my best friend.

The lows? Where to begin. Oh where to begin. Do we start with the diagnosis of sarcoidosis? Shall I begin by mentioning the debilitating pain I went through for three months? And the endless tests I had to (and still have to) endure? The disease I will carry for the rest of my life, even if it stays in remission?

Or should we declare the death of my beautiful friend Wendy as the lowest of lows? I miss her beautiful smile, her wise words, our shared laughter, our shared cattiness, and our eskimo kisses. There is not a day that goes by where I don't think of Wendy. Where I don't miss her to the depths of my heart.

Perhaps, more painfully, is the changing nature of friendships that has been the hardest to deal with. The loss of a friend due to a sudden death is a tragedy. The loss of a friend, through a misunderstanding, or a change in circumstances, or through some preventable or unpreventable action is devastating.  When changes like this occur, you question yoursellf. You question what you thought was true. You question what you thought was reliable. You question what you thought was constant. Did you do enough? Did you do too much? Did it matter in the end? Or was it inevitable? 

Sometimes though, the pain about a friendship can occur while you are still friends with that person. You are still friends, sure. But it's not the same. Things have changed, good or bad, and so has the friendship, sometimes catching you blindsided.

When December 31, 2011 at 11:59:59 comes, I will not mourn what was 2011. It was a meh year to be sure. But 2012 holds out so much hope. Come this time next year, I will be a wife, and trying to concieve a baby (if not already pregnant). I have so much to look forward to that, as painful as the last year was, the hope of the future outshines any sadness I carry with me.

Happy New Years my faithful readers (of four)!

25 June 2011

Message to my younger self: things turned out ok.

I stumbled across an old blog that I had (and forgot about). I only had a few posts, and they were my first attempts at blogging.  Some general observations of my younger, twenty-something self: I was extremely witty..and extremely lonely.  Perhaps the severe wittiness covered the pain that it took to grow into myself.

Would I tell myself, knowing what I know now, that it's going to be o.k.?
Would I tell young Dani that I would find that epic, soul-filling, heart-bursting love that I thought only existed in romance novels? 
Would I tell young Dani that all the stress that I experienced, in my then job, would lead to a professional growth that would be an asset and a strength that I would carry forward? 
Would I tell young Dani that the path she dreamed of would be completely different... and better?
Would I tell young Dani that the weight-loss journey never stops?
Would I tell young Dani that she would continue to be witty, but out of a genuine happiness, and not from a place of pain? 
Would I tell young Dani that financial hardships never really stop, but she would eventually learn the value of (and be a better manager of) money?
Would I tell younger Dani that she shouldn't have held back on going to all those places she dreamed of while she had the chance to do so?
Would I tell young Dani to not hold back because of fear?
Would I tell younger Dani to take better care of her health and be more proactive in addressing her respiratory issues she had then?
Would I tell young Dani that things get so much better when she hits her thirties?
Would I tell young Dani that the confidence she lacked (hidden behind her tough and witty exterior) would actually blossom into a real, solid, confidence?

I never though that a blog would be a portal into a life I once lived. That my memories would fade as I move forward, eager to experience new things. That I would have the opportunity to look back and see my own words and thoughts... and be able to look at them with the same eyes, but fresh ones.

To answer my questions: No, I wouldn't tell young Dani anything. Young Dani had to grow and learn and experience to be where she's at today.  And maybe one day, Old Dani will look back at this blog, with old but fresh eyes, and be able to write to thirty-something Dani with words of wisdom on things current Dani can't possibly fathom now.