Hi-Ho, Hi-Ho, it’s back to school I go!

https://twitter.com/JoshuaMTerry/status/461500128486907904

Yes, it’s true! Four years after graduating college, and seven years after leaving the University of Ottawa, I’m headed back to get my long desired B.A!

I’ve always had the desire to go back and finish what I started, but the timing never lined up. However, with job stability, my own place and the time to do it, I am headed back to school. I’ll be studying at Ryerson, for a Bachelor of Arts in Governance and Public Administration.

I think what I’m taking with me this time is far more life experience than when I went to Ottawa in 2006. I really wasn’t ready to be so far away from the people I cared about most; I was a naive 18-year old and while I was successful in my classes, the people that I lived with in second year were… shall we say, not nice. This time around, I have the benefit of my own place, a full-time job and a program that is not only part-time, but geared towards people working in the public sector like myself.

My expectations are different this time too. When I went to Ottawa, I figured it would be much like high school: I would do well in my classes with very little effort. While I did well academically (except for stupid philosophy classes, which are awful), it sure as hell wasn’t easy. Luckily, I’ll be close to home and have friends/family who can help me out while things get crazy with school.

At the moment, the plan is to start with one or two classes for the first semester, and ease back in to it. If I think I can take on more in future semesters, I will. That said, I’m not in a rush: it’s a part-time program and I’ll be sure to take my time and do it right. My workload between work and school also needs to be factored in, and time with precious Atticus also must be considered.

Someone was teasing me, saying I’ll be a “mature” student. In fact, I think the opposite is going to be true: I’ll likely be one of the younger students in my program, as it is geared to those working in the public sector already. Then I was told I’ll need to blog about the experience: while I hope to be able to, obviously reading, homework and papers will take priority.

All in all, though, I’m excited. I think the combination of my communications experience and good background in the public policy world is going to be good and help me achieve my long-term goals. Sure, it’s a bit selfish to be focused on “me,” but whatever… At some point, you need to forget what others want from you and do what you want to do. For me, that starts in September with my return to campus.

Memoir Monday: My Life in Ottawa

Me, with “the next door neighbour” from University.

I’ve always thought about writing memoirs of my life. I’m an active journal writer and while I’ve never thought my life is interesting enough, I’ve decided to share some stories. They are in no particular order and I start tonight with my time in university in Ottawa. Perhaps this goes against my post on oversharing, but I also feel that if my stories can help someone going through the same thing, then it is worth sharing.

Life in Ottawa

Friends and family have always been central to my life. In fact, I consider the majority of my friends to be part of my family. I tend to do two things: first, I always trust my friends and second, if that trust is violated, those people get immediately cut out of my life for good. I know that I’m not perfect, but I do hold my friends (and myself) to a very high standard. The closer one is to me, the higher my expectations – and ultimately the more devastating the disappointment if I’m let down.

Where I’ve been quite lucky, though, is in the fact that it has been very rare for me to face the devastating disappointment of having to take the step to cut people out of my life; that is, save for one occasion that I wanted to address early on while writing the story of my life.

In the fall of 2006, after packing up the car and saying goodbye to my friends, I headed off to the big world of university. As I headed east on the highway with my mom and dad, I had little idea what life in Ottawa was going to be like. I knew it was the best place for me to begin my studies in history and political science. Having shelved my original plan to become a teacher after getting involved in the federal election campaign that took place in December of 2005 and January of 2006, I knew that politics was my goal and that Ottawa was the place to be to learn all about it and also try to get my feet wet in one way or another on Parliament Hill.

So, there I was in the heart of downtown Ottawa, ready to begin the next chapter of my life. I opted for the traditional university residence experience: a shared dorm room, with a shared bathroom across the hall and a common room at the other end of the floor. I planned to make myself get out there and make some new friends; and that is exactly what I did. After meeting my roommate, who I think I only spoke to twice in the entire first year of university (he vanished and lived somewhere else; where is unknown), I unpacked and settled in. It didn’t take long for other people on our floor to come by and say hello. The first person to drop by was  an English-major who would later become my closest friend there. Others who dropped by included two guys who shared a room around the corner, a girl from the other side of the floor and my next-door neighbour. As the first weeks of our first year of university went by, we all became closer. We went out on weekends, hung out when class, essays and exams didn’t get in our way and generally just enjoyed the fact that although we were miles from home, we had a new support network. As our first year drew to a close and final exams of the second semester crept up, the English major, the two guys, the girl across the hall and myself made the decision that we would look for a place to live in second year together. Little did I realize, this would be both the biggest mistake I could make and the biggest blessing I could ask for.

Shortly after finding a place and signing a lease, the fights began. The battles over who would get what bedroom, how bills would be split, what services we would sign up for and more. But we persevered, figured it all out and went our separate ways that summer. When we returned, the battles began in earnest, but the four other housemates “teamed up” to take their anger out on me.

It was mid-October of 2007 and after working a full day shift at the pharmacy down the street, I came home and was called into the living room, where the rest of the housemates were sitting. I was told we “needed to talk.” One by one, the other four – the four I had considered to be my closest friends and allies in Ottawa – proceeded to throw the most vile accusations at me. I was accused of talking about all them behind their backs, to being dishonest about money and just generally being an all-round terrible person. I can handle criticism pretty well, but when four people who I consider to be my closest friends turn on me without warning and without reason, my back goes up.

I wasn’t perfect and I’m quick to admit that. I had disagreements with these people and they didn’t always end well. But I never had the thought cross my mind that I should gang up with the other four to attack and degrade one of the others. As soon as this happened to me, I withdrew from caring about my studies. In essence, I let other people drag me down to what is probably the lowest point of my life so far. I reached a point that was so incredibly low, that not only was I scared about the potential for me to harm myself, my family was scared the same thing was going to happen.

Because of those people, I dropped out of the University of Ottawa and moved back to Bowmanville in December 2007. I re-focused my efforts and applied to the Public Relations program at Durham College. Because of the actions of four people who are capable of nothing but vile hatred, I left a place that was not right for me. Instead, I ended up in a fabulous program and in a career that I love. As much as I despise those people for what they did, they did me a favour: they set me on the path that got me to where I am today. Yes, I was deeply wounded – and still am – by how these supposed friends treated me, but at the end of the day it was for the better.

Since I left that house nearly five years ago, I’ve not spoken to any of the people involved and I have no plans to. I’m one of those people that can forgive but not forget – but in the case of these people, the people who I considered my very best friends in University – I cannot and will not forget what they did to me.

100 Things About Josh: Volume One

So, someone that I follow on Twitter spent today tweeting #100ThingsAboutMe and I thought it was a pretty amazing thing to do. Naturally, I’m doing my own version and decided to be suspenseful by splitting it in two.

Without further ado, Here are items 100 – 51 of “Things About Josh:”

Things About Josh, #100 – 51…

100.

This is my favourite photo of myself.

99. In my personal life, I tend to react faster out of anger than any other emotion; it’s not always a good thing…

98. My childhood dream of becoming a lawyer has returned recently.

97. Seeing all my friends getting married/having babies/buying houses makes me wonder when it’s “my turn.”

96. Very few of my friends go through break-ups. That has made my recent one all the more difficult.

95. My political views make no sense: I’m socially left-wing, fiscally right-wing and think criminals should be locked away for good.

94. My favourite food of all time is my Mom’s Mac ‘n Cheese.

93. I’m addicted to Grapefruit Perrier – after G&T, it’s my preferred beverage.

92. My iPhone music is 4.4% ABBA; I did the math.

91. If somebody offered me one chance to go back in time and change one thing in my life, I’d go back to 1999 and tell the doctor what was wrong with my Grandma.

90. I can’t see myself ever getting married.

89. Ditto for having kids.

88. Bad music is my guilty pleasure.

87. The first car I ever drove was a 1992 Cavalier station wagon; I named him Carl, and I miss that car.

86. I want to move to Calgary.

85. I’ve traveled more within Canada than I have to foreign countries.

84. I will trust you easily; violate that trust and I’ll never forgive you.

83. My grumpiness in the morning is a façade. You can talk to me; it’s okay.

82. I read my horoscope every day. I don’t use it as a guiding factor, but I think there is truth to them.

81. I am a news junkie (OK, you likely knew that one).

80. I don’t think I’ve led past lives, but if I did, I think I’d be a s*** disturber in all of them.

79. My middle name is Michael.  I don’t usually tell people that, not because I think it’s lame, but because there isn’t a cool story behind it. It’s just another name.

78. It drives me bonkers when people call/e-mail and call me “Terry.” That’s not my name!

77. I’m pretty reserved in person. Social media is where I’m loudest.

76. I haven’t always liked gin…

75. Every car that I’ve ever owned has been in a car accident (none of them have been my fault).

74. As much as I’d like to do it, I feel like I’ve wasted a day if I spend it in bed.

73. I shoot evil, evil looks at people on the subway when I can hear their music.

72. I have a hard time letting people in my life, but an easy time pushing them out.

71. My biggest regret in life is that I have a hard time saying, to anybody, “I love you.” When I say it, I really mean it, despite it being awkward to communicate.

70. I think that’s partly why I don’t see myself getting married.

69. I think this number is funny… (Yeah, yeah… I’m so mature).

68. My family will either a) think I’m a pervert or b) ask me why I found the previous one funny.

67. If I tease you, it means I genuinely care for you.

66. Sarcasm is a huge must-have for any future partner in my life.

65. In my personal life, I speak quickly without thinking. It means that I sometimes contradict myself and come across as shady. I’m not.

64. This list is actually harder than I thought.

63. I feel like sometimes, the only being I can connect with, is an animal; they don’t judge. They just love you.

62. I cannot handle horror movies. The slightest bit of violence, especially with knives, makes me want to vomit.

61. I saw someone get shot when I was in Ottawa with my family; I remember it vividly and think it’s the scariest moment of my life.

60. I hate going to the doctor.

59.

My friend Amy took this photo when we were driving back from Thunder Bay. I love it.

58. This is my favourite ABBA song.

57. My keyboard and mouse are losing battery life as I write this.

56. That previous one and this one were written solely because I’m having a hard time thinking of what to write!

55. I have friends in the UK, Spain, Barbados and Australia, but have only been to one of those countries!

54. I have been to more funerals than weddings.

53. My biggest fear is dying with nobody around me.

52. This post was supposed to be published three days ago, but I got busy.

51. I’m fiercely protective of my independence. Threaten it, and I will chase you away.

So, there you have it… the first installment. What will come next? Feel free to submit questions on the Facebook page and they might get answered! Please also feel free to comment on which one(s) you find the most surprising.

Captain Independent

I’m drawing a comparison between a free-flying bird (non-pigeon) and me. Just roll with it.

“To find yourself, think for yourself.”

-Socrates

First: I’m stunned that I quoted a philosopher, given my disdain for my university philosophy courses. However, that said, I definitely agree with my old friend Socrates on this one. Yes, I’m going to opine on the glory that is independence.

I’d like to think that, ever since I was a child, I had a bit of an independent streak. It’s evident from this blog: I’ll go from writing about my progress at the gym, to writing about Rob Ford and his antics, to independence. Forget all the PR courses I took that taught me to pick a subject and focus on it! That’s for work time! Blogging is me time (plus, I do have a focused blog – which has a new post up) and if you don’t like it, don’t read. But yes, as a child, I had my fair share of tantrums and desire to do things my way, regardless of what other people told me. While I’m sure it was a pain in the ass for my parents, it certainly prepared me well for independence.

My first real taste of independence was when I went off to the University of Ottawa in 2006. After starting second year and having the worst roommates in the world (terrible people – and if they are somehow reading this, I don’t care) who treated me like a sub-par human being, I had had enough of their crap and moved back home. While it was an adjustment, my parents certainly respected the fact that I was an adult and could make my own decisions. Sure, they always asked “where I was going,” but it was never a demand to know – they just were curious (I teased that they were living vicariously through me).

After finishing the PR program at Durham College and getting my first “big boy” job at a small agency, it didn’t take long for the urge to want to move out to hit. And so, in December 2010, I set out alongside a good friend who I’ve known since I was 4 for Toronto, which has been home ever since.

When it comes to dating/relationships, well… it doesn’t happen. I’m too protective of myself and the independence that I fought for. It’s hard for me to let someone else in, because it makes me feel dependent. I don’t like that feeling. I like being able to rely on myself and only myself. It’s a challenge and it isn’t easy, but I strive for it anyways. While there are always people I’ll rely on (ie: family and good friends), I’ll still be fiercely protective of my independence. In fact, if I live to be as old as my Great-Grandmother did, I’ll likely fight as hard as she did to live in my own home as long as possible. So, perhaps that independent streak runs in the genes…