|Walk Off The Earth (image taken from their website)|
These good-looking guys and gal are one of my all-time favourite bands ever: Walk Off The Earth. I love them fiercely and passionately, which I am known to do - I'm easily excitable. This love has been going strong for over two years, ever since a co-worker showed me one of their videos on YouTube. Thanks Joe!
Wanna listen to their latest song while you read this?
Anyway, I want to talk about something in particular today: our tendency to ruin a perfectly great day.
Like I said, I have been a fan for some time.
At the beginning of this year I sat down with a workbook that I bought to outline the goals I have for 2015. One of the exercises in the book is to write down 100 things you want to do in the year. Do you know how hard that is?? Despite my best efforts I have only managed to write down 45 so far, which is embarrassing. Am I that uncreative? Apparently, yes.
One of the 100 things was to see Walk Off The Earth live. No big deal for most of you seasoned concert goers out there, but semi-big for me - I rarely go to concerts. The reasons are manifold: Too many people, they sometimes take freakishly long, I'm a homebody... boring, I know.
But I knew, should WOTE come to Vancouver, I would go. It was on The List after all, and all the things on The List have to come true!
|Beard Guy double-take (image found here)|
Low and behold, they did come to Vancity, last Friday. I had wrestled a promise from my husband to come with me, despite him not being as big a fan as I am (or a fan at all, for that matter).
Kids, compromise is the foundation of a strong marriage! Write that down.
Friday dawned bright, warm and sunny, promising to turn into a perfect summer-like day.
To say that I was excited was an understatement - I felt like a little kid on Christmas.
I had bought a new dress for the occasion! This dress was fitted on top with a swingy, short(ish) skirt, a style I love.
Everything was planned out: the dress, the shoes (powder-blue high-heeled slingbacks), the nails (neon orange), the purse (huh, I seem to like that combo). After I got out of the shower, freshly shaved and moisturised (I was gonna go into the city after all!) I slipped on the dress.
Expectantly I stepped in front of the mirror - and my heart sank. What was up with that belly?? I looked like I was 4 months pregnant. My mind automatically conjured up perfect bodies, Pinterest-worthy modelesque women wearing this dress - and I was falling short by a mile. Shit. What else could I wear? Nothing, that's what. You know how it is when you have decided upon an outfit - if that doesn't work, nothing else will either.
I cursed my bloated belly, the Nutella-sandwich I'd had for breakfast, the half watermelon I had snacked on that made my tummy look like I had swallowed it whole - everything.
My mood teetered dangerously on turning gloomy. But then, luckily, I decided to fuck it and wear the dress anyway, belly or not. Here is a grainy picture taken before we left (notice the purse strategically placed in front of my belly? I'm no amateur):
|Most unblog-worthy photo ever. You're welcome.|
Boyfriends and husbands, take note: Compliment your women often. Daily is best.
We drove into the city, found a good parking spot and a great seat in the theatre where the concert was to take place. We still had some time before the start and I did what I love to do: People watch.
The crowd was mixed, with people of all ages present, kids to people in their sixties. Perfect people-watch conditions. I commented on the outfits (as one does), complimenting a couple of girls who were wearing really cute dresses. And it struck me at that moment: Their bodies didn't matter. I admired their style, and liked that they were obviously having a good time. Did I care if they were bigger or smaller, had flat tummies or rounded ones? Not one bit.
I decided in that moment that next time when I was getting ready, I wouldn't compare myself with the "perfect" pictures that still occupy my head (get out, "perfect" pictures!).
Instead, I will think of the event ahead, of all the different people with different bodies, outfits, and hairstyles that will be there. Variety is the spice of life!
Because here is the thing: I like formfitting dresses. I like Nutella. (And bread, wine, sour candy, meat, cake, vegetables, fruit, salads, gelato, pasta - the list goes on.)
And I am convinced that they can all coexist together.
The concert was spectacular. So much fun, high-energy, and entertaining! We both had an excellent time, with me loving them more than ever, and Rich liking them, too.
After the concert we strolled through downtown, taking in the scene, enjoying the warm (pre-)summer night, talking about how awesome it was.
Such a great night! My belly had a good time, too. ;-)