On Confidence

Confidence is a funny thing.

After an amazingly wonderful day, I decided to spend the evening camping out in the basement for some respite from the heat (I don't have AC). So I set up my tent and sleeping bag (it's an unfinished basement, so no furniture - just concrete) in the basement and brought my laptop for some Netflix goodness. But after about 5 minutes, I realized that I didn't want to watch movies...I wanted to sing!!!

YouTube karaoke is one of my favourite things ever, and after a few songs, I thought "Hey...on this new laptop, I bet it would be easy to record some singing!!! So after a bit of figuring out, I recoded a song. And it didn't sound half bad! I mean, the quality obviously wasn't the best, and I hadn't warmed up or anything, but still!

So I recorded a whole bunch of songs!!!

Then, I decided that it was time to post them publicly. Despite a couple of friends telling me I should post some singing over the years, I never felt confident enough to do so. But today was different for some reason.

It must be all those happy hormones that are racing through my veins after spending the afternoon with my newborn niece!!

So if you ever wondered what I sound like, feel free to watch below (warning, I'm NOT a professional singer, ha ha!):

"J'avais rêvé" (I Dreamed a Dream) from "Les Miserables"


Love Changes Everything from "Aspects of Love"


La monture from "Notre Dame de Paris"


At the Beginning (duet with pre-recorded internet stranger) from "Anastasia"


There's a Fine, Fine Line from "Avenue Q"

On Conviction

Something's changed.

Something in my brain has said "Wake up, Leah. It's time to drop the act." And I didn't even know I was putting on an act!

But I figured it out.

I grew up pretty sheltered. And even when I stopped being sheltered, I maintained a certain level of innocence. Though intelligent, I remained childishly naive.

I learned a few things recently that shook me up. And that's when it hit me. Although there's a part of me that wants to cling to the childish and naive, I've realized that it's not who I am.

For years, I've been unconsciously playing the "Little Girl" because deep down, I want to be looked after. I guess I believed that I couldn't look after myself. I was just too soft and squishy to make it on my own. It seems like a strange view to have when one spends a lifetime on one's own. I live on my own, I travel on my own, I'm reluctant to ask for help...

But it's amazing the kind of clarity and rational thinking that can be found in the midst of an emotional maelstrom. I worked my way through the bullshit and found myself in the eye of the storm. Once there, I realised that I'm not a little girl...

I'm frakking badass!

So it's time this little girl grew up and owned up to her convictions.

But don't worry, "growing up" doesn't mean "acting like a grown up." You wont see me eating All-Bran and watching "The National", or running any frakking marathons. Oh no! I'm going to keep on doing just what I'm been doing. Because it's been amazing!

On Life Lessons

Sooner or later, every child comes to the point when they realize that their parents are not gods, that they are fallible. Parent make mistakes, they don't see everything that goes on, and they are not privy to all of the secrets of the universe.

This discovery is a little shattering whatever your age when it happens.

But what I've discovered is equally traumatizing is the day that I realized that books were not infallible.

I grew up learning from books that truth and honour would always win out in the end. Sometimes it was not the easy path, but it was worth it in the end. If feelings were hurt unintentionally along the way, it was okay, and all was forgiven. Who could truly have ill will towards someone who had your best interests in mind, even if slightly misguided?

It was a rude awakening when I was called on to be honest in my own life. I strove to be as fair and truthful as possible, but then the person accused me of "fucking her over." And she's has refused to speak to me since. I tried to help both of us, and all she saw was the end result. What's worse, though, is that people I've spoken to about the situation agree with her...

I was suddenly faced with the realization that the real world was too suspicious to recognise and appreciate honour.

Then there's love.

Oh, love.

I grew up reading about romantic love being a state when you couldn't sleep or eat for thinking of the other person. Where if you were meant to be together, you found a way. Where proving your love to someone was as simple as a sweet display of courtship or a tender gesture. And more importantly, if you were in love, you KNEW it. Because either you recognized it, or someone else would tell you so.

And so, I've always lived my life accordingly; by being direct and offering kind and courtly, though unmistakably romantic, gestures.

What books didn't prepare me for was for a distinct lack of intense passionate emotions or recognition of courtship! Gestures that are completely ignored or dismissed as being "not overtly sexual, and therefore not romantic". Or feelings about him that don't keep me awake or distract me from work, but that creep into my mind in the quiet times when the TV is off and my eyes are shut and my thoughts are calm....and then I wonder - Is that love? Because I have no idea.

Books made love and honour seem obvious and simple.

And what I'm finding now is that, like my parents, books don't have all the answers.

Trouble is, though, that old habits die hard, and I'll either end up losing my honourable head (metaphorically speaking) or spending my life as a spinster, ever waiting for a lad to ask if he can have this dance.