Tag Archives: daddy’s girl

Maybe the Deadly Sins aren’t so Deadly after all…


Pride-w-bckgrnd-580x250Over the past year and a half, despite ups and downs, I keep finding myself both proud and amazed of the little things I figure out.  By nature, I like to have projects on the go.  Painting somebody’s toy trunk, updating an old piece of furniture, creating party playlists…I’m a doer.  Now, I’m less of a doer than I used to be and I’m definitely less of doer than I was (sometimes) forced to be, but that’s only because I had to learn to focus on me, not just tasks at hand.

That being said, last summer I could’ve used a lot more tasks.  This summer there simply weren’t enough hours in the day.  It’s so interesting how 1 year later your problems can be completely different.  Last year I was stressed at work, this year I was borderline bored.  Last year I was melting away in my new apartment wishing for things to do, and there were moments this year I wished I took on a little less!

Either way, I have accomplished a lot on my own.  This doesn’t negate that friends, family, and neighbours have helped me of course, but I mean…living on my own.  No roommates, no boyfriends.  The crap your dad or husband does?  Well, I have had to learn to do it.manicure-set

This has included things both large and small – from learning to use spray sunscreen on my own back to things pretty darn large – like learning how to redneck tie my muffler with a coat hanger.  Throughout the last year I have learned how to fix my own internet, call around for car quotes, sand, fill and stain wood, putty in holes, install air conditioners, use a nail gun, relight pilots, silicon my sink, research alloy rim bolt patterns and possibly most impressive for me…..a month or so ago I spent an hour fixing my own brakes on my new bike.  This is almost a freaking miracle as I haven’t owned a bike since I was about 15.

But, I used to think I had a pretty decent list even before that.  My dad taught me to be somewhat self-sufficient.  I could hang my own pictures, paint my own furniture, hook up my own VCR, check my oil and even know how to detail a car…rust and all.  Each time my mom and I debate about how busy we are (or how little she thinks my dad does), I have to remind her that those things she takes for granted – my dad cooking, doing registration on her car, filling her gas, fixing the internet, installing the DVD Player, fixing her birdhouse…well, me and a lot of other women don’t necessarily have that luxury.  There are more ways to be successful in life and frankly, handling your own life is probably number one.  Funnily enough, making another $10,000 or visiting a far away land now seem like less of an accomplishment than learning to clean out the air conditioner filter.

Think long and hard.  If you had to name what you were proudest of…what would it be?

I know a lot of strong women, so whether it be emotionally or otherwise – I’m so proud of everyone for all they have accomplished.  So, though there are women out there probably a lot handier than me – I have a feeling there are a lot that are less too.  Not too long ago I had two boys both tell me how sexy my self-reliance actually was.   Just yesterday I had an old friend say, “Well, aren’t you a handy little girl.”  It was interesting to think, but I guess an independent women can be both intimidating as well as appealing – I guess it just depends on how secure the lad is.  However, I don’t want to be sexist, so if you are a single guy, you can be proud of yourself too.  A good friend of mine actually learned about wiring just so he didn’t have to pay somebody to install his chandelier.  Even that is a challenge I’m not quite ready to undertake yet…maybe next year.

naked redhead girl over black

If there is only one thing in my life that I am proud of, it’s that I’ve never been a kept woman.                                                                                                                                                    – Marilyn Monroe

The Ginga Ninja

Mr. Right Was Always Right Here


Daddy's Little Girl, Fred Flintstone & PebblesSo, I debated just reblogging last year’s Father’s Day post for anybody who missed it.  Good and bad, right and wrong, I sure do love my Daddy.

But, I stumbled across this great article earlier this week.  It was about a father who wrote a letter to his young daughter.  He wanted her to know that in her future she should have worth, she should have standards and she should be willing to wait for somebody who had been willing to wait for her.  She was more than a toy, she was more than a fling for a boy, she didn’t need to meet Mr. Right, just Mr. Right For Her.


It got me thinking.  In all of the years I have dated; the ups, the downs, the makeups, the breakups…I don’t really remember my dad ever telling me what I should or should not be doing (at least not in regards to boys).  When he liked a boy, he vocalized that he may be a good husband and if I chose to partner with him, he could be a good match.  But, the important thing here was that he always specified…IF I CHOSE.

He didn’t say much about the boys that were no good for me, he never called anybody a bum, or a good for nothing or an over my dead body….but, he always sat by quietly just waiting to see what I would do and who I would choose.  Sometimes, after the fact he had an opinion or two, but he was very careful not to say anything that would make my mind up for me when I was deep in the heart of it.  When a tough decision came last year over a good guy…he simply told me to do right for me and reinforced that I had to question what could make me feel any less than the best version of myself.

In all of these 31 years, I don’t remember him ever telling me I had to get married, I had to have kids, I had to have a partner, or even that I had to have a concrete life direction.  He has never asked me for grandkids or ever mentioned how much money I’ve wasted despite what I owe him.  He has watched me through many adventures and many changes and each and every time he seems to have a positive outlook on the “rest of my life”, what I deserve and who I will be.  I don’t ever remember him telling me to grow up, to get real, or to lower my expectations.  In many ways my dad has always been my best friend and I don’t think he has ever worried whether I had a man to “take care of me” once he is gone….because I think he raised me well enough to take care of myself.

So, like the father from the letter; I think that my Dad hopes that I meet Mr. Good Enough.  But, let’s be specific here… not Mr. Good Enough to Settle For, but Mr. Good Enough for Me.

 …But Whatever Road You Choose, I’m Right Behind You Win Or Lose. – Rod Stewart

The Ginga Ninja

She’s Positively Positive


red picklePickles.  Olives.  Garlic.  Panna Cotta.  Cream Cheese Icing.  Wheat Beer.  Red Wine.  Cats.  Music.  Art.   Movies.  Quotes.  Massages.  Long Hair.  Bright Colours.  Talking.  Reading.  Sleeping.  Cooking.

These are all things I like.  And every time I find myself down and out I need to remember all the things I like…all the things that make me ME and all the things I would miss if I weren’t around to enjoy them.

You don’t have to like these things, but there would be another similar and yet unique list for you.  A friend once told me to focus on one good thing that happened each day.  It puts into perspective that through all the hard times and through all the uncertainty…shines through compliments, bright shiny moments and ultimately things that you….like.  So, even if the world doesn’t always like you, there will be parts of the world you like.

So like that wonderful commercial with the curly-haired little blond girl who emits positivity and recites:

I like my dad, I like my cousins.  I like my hair, I like my haircuts.  I like my pajamas.  I like my stuff.  I like my room.  I like my whole house!  My whole house is great.  I can do anything good, better than anyone.


Readers, I like you.

The Ginga Ninja

When My Dad Didn’t Have My Hand….He Had My Back


So, today is Father’s Day (at least in North America).  It’s a day to celebrate those (mainly) wonderful people we call Dad…or Pop, or Daddy, or in my case Brina….really whatever floats your boat.

But, for most little girls, their Dad is the one man who will love them forever, good and bad.  More often than not a girl knows the song she wants to dance with her father at her wedding, lloonnngg before there is a wedding to even plan.  Don’t get me wrong, not every man is meant to be a father and not every father is a good man, but if you were lucky like me…then up and down, approving or disapproving, over the years I still believe my Dad (aside from my elderly male cat) is the longest love I’ve had.

I recently sat on a plane with a very successful and divorced older man; the divorce caused him to re-evaluate his life and dedicate much of it to his daughters.  He was around my Dad’s age and I was around his daughter’s age. We had a very interesting discussion about career, life romance and love.  I felt like I was talking to my dad….and in all honesty, I think he felt like he was talking to his daughter.  He pointed out that he hoped, hoped that his eldest would eventually find a partner, but that he honestly thinks he raised her so well that men are intimidated by her.

It’s funny because that is a statement I have heard over and over throughout the years. It will take a secure man to love me.  If you were raised to be successful and you excelled at many things, your standards are high and you were told not to settle, but that in turn means you very well may…actually not settle.  However, I very recently came up with a new vantage point on this.  If you have a wonderful father – warm, communicative, successful career, handy around the house, likes to cook, cleans, does laundry…and  knows music trivia….wouldn’t you measure every man by him?  In essence, maybe the fact that I haven’t settled down yet is actually because I am measuring other men by the one man I value most.

So, as a Daddy’s girl I have to say, seriously Dad…I now believe it’s your fault I haven’t settled down.  Kidding…well, sort of.  But, actually more seriously, thank you for being my Dad.  I knew that when I had my first glass of red wine in Paris with my father, I was having it with a man who would love me forever.

Happy Father’s Day to all Dad’s out there, and happy daughters day to all those lucky enough to have a Dad like mine.

The Ginga Ninja


The Wrong Road Too Often Travelled


Can you ever admit that you were wrong?  In the game of life, when does honesty play it’s part…how often does a decision you made go the wrong way and do you have enough humility to see it?  Maybe you didn’t do it on purpose, but you still did it. If you did, can you fess up and admit you may have been wrong?

Or is wrong something you can simply assess after the fact…perhaps that in the moment, every moment, you react with your gut, but only hindsight helps you realize the error of your ways.  Why couldn’t we all build time machines that helped us go back to that very moment and undo the monumental thing we did to cause future worry and heartache?  Because I guess what you did was probably caused by something giving you worry and heartache in the first place.  If you reacted how you felt necessary at the time, and reacted in such a way to keep your life moving or your principles known…does wrong really ever exist?

As my dad put it, “Your whole life will be about making decisions and more decisions. Some will turn out great , some good, some so-so and  and some bad. You will only ever 2nd guess the latter two.”  Well dad, I think I’m human enough to admit that I’m guilty of second-guessing.

Okay, there is of course a grey area here.  There are actions that are certainly considered wrong (embezzlement, murder… teased hair) but most people are driven by something to say, or to do, the choice they made in that moment. Let’s be honest, even murder in self-defence, or teased hair for an 80’s party can be defended… but who can admit they may have made a mistake? How many are willing to simply utter those words,  “I was wrong”.

(And ladies, let’s be honest, those three words may be harder for a man to utter than those other three dreaded ones)

For all those with regret, or uncertainty, fear of the unknown…try to remember that every action, every thought, every moment of hindsight is simply a stepping stone, or a lesson for whatever comes next.  Maybe the right way just wasn’t marked on your map yet.

You can’t do anything about the past, other than admit your mistakes, apologize for your regrets, and realize that no matter how many wrong turns you take on the way…ultimately we all end up at the same destination.

The Ginga Ninja