7 Little Things

First things first....

The e-harmony update...

-I have been matched with 18 men

-9 men have closed the match

-5 of these men said it was due to the fact they were "pursuing another relationship" (I call bullshit)

-4 are from the great U.S. of A (would never consider moving)

-Communicating with 5

-2 are named Andrew and are 42 years old (I get them mixed up all the time)

-2 are named Bruce

-I've made it to step 3 (which, I should clarify is NOT the same as third base...) with Andrew1 (and it won't go much further...he can't stand women who can't manage their finances...hmmmmm....ok....not so bad except that he also can't stand women who curse.  Well, fuck fudge I have been known to use a few...um...choice words from time to time.  Okay, okay, who are we kidding?  I could shock a trucker...)

-I've made it to step 2 with Andrew2 (and it won't go much further....as I'm trying to keep an open mind, I've ignored the fact that this man is not the least bit attractive.  I know it sounds mean, it is mean.  But if the attraction isn't there, it just isn't there.  Right?  Am I being petty?)

-And three haven't gone past step 1. 

**sigh**

I guess I won't be doing a commercial any time soon.

Recently, a fellow blogger (f8hasit) gave me an award!  I totally suggest you check out her blog because I just think she is hilarious.  And it's getting to be winter.  I don't know what winter means where you live, but here it means rain.  And more rain.  And then more rain.  You get the idea.  Spend the afternoon reading her blog, drinking some tea (or wine, or Vodka...I'm not judging) and the rain won't seem so...rainy...

Back to the award...(and by 'award' I mean ME!)  The rules behind this particular one is that I have to share 7 things about me that no one (or most) don't know about me.  Sooooooo, here goes....

1.  I didn't really know how the award works.  "Swing on by and grab it"  f8hasit said.  Uh....ok...swing by where?  Grab it how?  So, I did the only thing that made sense to me...I stole the image from her blog (right click here, left click there...bada boom bada bing...here it is!) and put it on mine.  Phew....I feel so much better.  I feel horribly guilty for stealing.  It's really very pretty, though, isn't it?

2.  The past few weeks I've been watching Soap Operas before I go to work.  I haven't watched them for years!  But I've overdosed on HGTV and TLC.  General Hospital is soooooo much more scandalous!  I'm super happy to know that Jax and Carly are still together (although they are going thru a 'rough patch')  Elizabeth and Lucky are still together, although since I last watched they've been married, divorced, and Elizabeth has a child (ren?) from Jason that Lucky is raising(?) and they're getting married again.  Sonny is still alive, but living the mobster high life.  Maxi and Lulu sure have grown up, though.  Man, I feel old.  However, I also feel quite good about myself and my life.  My mother isn't sleeping with my ex-boyfriend, my brother's wife hasn't stolen my baby because her's died, my long lost daughter hasn't shown up and hit on my husband and my new beau (no, my husband does not know!) is not a hitman.  I'm doing awesome!!!

3.  I've never had a speeding ticket.  Ever.  This doesn't mean I don't speed.  I'm just lucky.  The only ticket (besides the million parking tickets...) I've ever had is for turning left over a double solid.  For the record, I'd like to state that practically EVERYONE does this.  I just happened to do it while a cop was filling up with gas in the gas station I was illegally turning into...

4.  I can't dance.  Seriously, I got no rhythm.  I dance like a white girl.  I can move my feet or I can move my arms, but I cannot for the life of me move both at the same time without looking like I have to pee.  Throw hip girating into the mix and I look like I'm having a seizure.

5.  I don't drink water.  I hate the taste...makes me gag.  I get my fluid intake from coffee.  Mmmmmm, coffee.  I love coffee.  Mmmmmm, Pepsi's good too!

6. I contemplate everything, no...I mean everything.  In fact, some would think it's borderline worrying.  To be absolutely honest, psychiatrists call it 'generalized anxiety disorder' and they give me this pretty pink pill to take every day so I don't drive myself mad with worry.  If I'm having a really bad day, I have a cute little blue one that dissolves under my tongue.  Oh the miracle of modern medicine, really quite spectacular.  Seriously, though...I'm really quite vocal about my 'disorder' because it horrifies me how many people suffer from mental illnesses and don't get help because it's taboo.  If your leg is broken, you go to the doctor and he fixes it.  Why can't it be the same if your brain is broken? 

7.  I feel inadequate in every aspect of my life, every single day.  I'm not the mother I could be, I'm not the daughter or sister or friend I should be.  I should be more spontaneous and less fearful.  I should be kinder and more thoughtful.  I should reduce my carbon footprint and recycle more.  Basically, I should single handedly save the world and everyone in it.  It's an exhausting job, but someone's gotta do it. 

Wow, that was cathartic...and thank you once again, f8hasit!

Lessons on a Skytrain

Lately, most of my social life has revolved around the skytrain. As in, this is the only social contact I have with the adult world outside of work. I know, I know it sounds very pathetic but it's really not so bad. I love people watching, for one and I've learned some valuable lessons.

For instance, I have learned that I cannot give people the benefit of the doubt on the skytrain. Normally, I really do like to live by the "3 chances" rule. You know, first time something happens I think, "hmmmm, that was odd," and move on. Second time, I make a point of acknowledging the inappropriate behavior - as in "ok, that was sooooo not acceptable." And the third time, I open up a can of whoop ass (figuratively, of course. My left jab isn't what it used to be...is that even what it's called? Left jab? I'm not sure.) This works particularly well with Q. I have to say I have never once gotten to "3." Q doesn't know what happens when I get to 3. Don't tell him, but I don't even know what happens when I get to 3. I usually get to 1 1/2 and we're good.

So, a while back when a guy got on the skytrain and sat directly behind me when it was clearly evident there were a dozen other places for him to sit, I thought "hmmmm, that's weird." When he hit me upside the head....literally, up the side of my head...I really should have said something. That was not a benefit of the doubt kind of situation. Now, I'm pretty sure he was missing a few vital brain cells that would have told him his behavior was inappropriate, but even so...

What creeped me out the most was after he left the train, and the guy sitting across from me said, "Did you know him?" When I said "no," he got really sort of angry with me. "You know," he said "You should have said something. He can't just hit you. I would have done something, said something, but I thought you knew him....I mean, he's been stroking your hair for the past 5 minutes!" Uh.....huh.....not sure how I missed that. Valuable lesson....pay more attention to your surroundings on the skytrain...

Then the other night, this obviously very drunk kid kept nudging me. This in itself was annoying enough, but he kept saying, "He's coming to get you. Are you scared? He's gonna kill you. Are you scared?" Again, first time I ignored him. Second time, I made eye contact, and gave him the 'mother look'. You know the one - the 'don't-mess-with-me-mister' look. Third time, I was winding up for a "You need to stop touching me now" when out of no where a cop was there, in between us fighting for my freedom (of space...) "Are you bugging this woman? Are you bugging her because you're drunk? Do you want to spend the night in jail?" It was so movie-ish. Too bad he was old. It could have been a love story.

It's not all bad though. One night I was sitting behind this couple who I'm pretty sure were on a first date. They talked the whole train ride. They talked about their likes and their dislikes, and every time they found they had something in common there would be this huge, "oh my goodness, I like banana's too" or "I know so-and-so!!! What a small world!" or something of the sort. I'm telling you, I was getting butterflies. I wanted to take my sniffly, coughing (it was the cold...) self and sit between them and compare notes. Something told me that would not be appropriate, but I really, really wanted to.

Remember that feeling? That newly-into someone feeling - where you talk on the phone til 6 am, and then still can't sleep because you replay every single word they said and analyze it to death. When his hand touches yours and your heart starts beating out of your chest. Or when your eyes meet, and you get goosebumps. It's so exciting to get to know someone, to feel that bond grow with every "ME TOO!!!"

Oh, I do miss it.

Harmony (we'll see)

Plenty of Fish is soooooo yesterday's news. Fed up with perverts, slimy one liners, and unrealistic expectations I cancelled my profile. I'm ready to meet real men the real way....I've signed up with e-harmony instead. That's right folks, this time I'm paying for it...uh, literally paying for it...they say it's free to see your matches. And I guess technically they're right. You see their name. But nothing else. No picture. And then you can't communicate until you pay, so unless you're looking for a headless guy named Joe who doesn't talk, it's beneficial to pay. I'm just saying. I mean, yes my expectations have dropped somewhat but I'm not that desperate -yet.

I like the idea of e-harmony. After filling out a personality quiz (oh and a word to the wise - answer carefully - you can't go back and change your answers. Believe me, I tried.) they tell you all about yourself. It was just like a Cosmo quiz - they give you insight into all your personality traits. How you handle stress, if you're outgoing or introverted. And I don't know who created this quiz, but let me tell you, they are good! They got me down.

After you find out who you 'really' are, you get to fill out your profile. Answer a few questions, post a few pics, take a few measurements (haha) and you're good to go. The game is on.

You don't get to browse profiles. This I'm not so crazy about. They send you matches based on your personality profile. And I'm not sure if this means that they send you matches that are exactly like you or ones that mesh with your personality. I'm pretty fabulous, but if I met a man exactly like me, that might be a little too much of a good thing, ya know?

I put my profile up the day after I turned 32 (and the day after I found my first grey hair. Pure coincidence, I am telling myself.) I've had 9 matches so far. This is the other thing that I like about e-harmony - guys can't send you cheesy one liners. It's called "guided communication." After reading a profile, if you like what you see, you get to send 5 questions (you get to pick from about 25 of them.) They answer, send you some back. It's like a 10 step process before you even get to say "hi." But it's FUN. It's exciting.

However. Ah, yes...there is always the infamous however. However, I sent my "5 questions" to my matches and 3 closed communication immediately. Like same day. Like didn't even answer the questions. Their reason - they're pursuing another relationship. I don't believe them. I mean, you checked your profile immediately when the new match popped up, and yet you're pursuing another relationship? No. There must be some other reason. Something they didn't like. Or maybe they are that slimy. Who knows? I never will.

I'm waiting for responses from 2 more right now, and avoiding 4 others (just joking...) Personality IS important, but there has to be some attraction, don't you think?

Just My Luck

Every year, my girlfriend and I have a huge birthday blow out. Our birthdays are two weeks apart, so a few years ago we started a tradition. One year we went to Whistler with the girls (which, I might add, was the first time I had ever been to the wonderful ski resort in all my years of living in B.C.) Last year, we planned a night out in downtown Vancouver. We went bar hopping (got kicked out of one for starting a fight...soooo wasn't me...) This year, our plan was to go to the Casino. Like always, we sent out a mass text to everyone we know, bought gorgeous sparkly dresses, and waited for what has become the rowdiest night of the year. This year, I got sick. Like horribly sick. Like I have been attached to my Kleenex box, Advil Cold and Flu, and chicken noodle soup for the past 4 days. My nose is raw, my throat is on fire, and I'm pretty sure it's gone into Bronchitis (but that might just be the hypochondriac in me...) The party went on. Without me. While I was on the couch watching horribly romantic love stories complete with men who DO NOT EXIST, and a plot line that has been done like a thousand times before, my friends were getting their groove on. While I was high on tea and decongestants, they were getting their fill of beer and shooters. I'm not going to lie, I was feeling a little sorry for myself. I had high hopes my friends, hopes of winning big at the blackjack table, and meeting the man of my dreams. It was going to be an awesome way to spend my 32nd birthday. Side Note: I do not recommend either "Ghosts of Girlfriends Past" or "The Ugly Truth" however, I always enjoy "Bridget Jones" - something about Mark Darcy that just makes me swoon (Colin Firth is sooooo yummy!) So, get this...while I was lying, nearly dying - I might add, on my couch...guess who showed up to MY birthday party? Mr. Married. Mr. Married showed up at my party. And guess who he showed up with? His wife. Uh...huh? As if right on cue, in walked my former fling, with his new girlfriend. What is wrong with these people? Are they insane? Did they not get the memo that this was MY party? Am I the only one who thinks that this is highly inappropriate? Not to mention awkward? They didn't know I was sick. In fact, Mr. Married texted me wondering where I was. Don't get me wrong, I'm glad I didn't go...me + Mr. Married + alcohol = trouble. Me + Mr. Married + alcohol + WIFE = Disaster. And Mr. Fling. Don't even get me started. I loved him. He was so wonderful. I'm glad that he found someone who could make him happy, I really, really am. I mean, we just were wrong for each other on so many levels. But do you have to rub it in my face? Do you? That's just mean. The couch is looking mighty fine right about now. I think I'm going to stay here for the remainder of the winter. I'd like to miss out on the whole holiday celebrations while being single once again. Spring seems like a good time to get off the couch.

Home (a.k.a if it ain't broke...)

this is our home. heaven on earth

I once heard a friend describe himself as an enigma. I love that. Aren't we all, to some extent? I know of a few men who've said they just don't understand me.

I am an oxymoron. For instance, I hate change. HATE it. I would love for everything to stay exactly the same every day from now until the day I die. I like to know exactly where everything is (which is another minor oxymoron...things are never where they should be...) I like to know exactly what to expect in every situation. Now, I can see how this could sound as though I have control issues. But really, it's not like that at all. I just don't want things to change and therefore I get a tad control-freaky. However, you do it my way and no one gets hurt. This is why I'm a supervisor. I control the situation. It's where I'm most comfortable. So while I seem cool, calm and collected...it's just part of my sinister plan to ensure nothing changes.

...and here's where the oxymoron inconveniently pops in for a visit. I crave change. Crave it. I get this itch (no, not that kind of itch...) The itch of change. I start to day dream about moving to a bigger house (touche...a bigger basement suite would be more accurate) with a backyard that Q can play in, and a dog - ohhhh, a dog. And then I start to think about how much I hate my job, and oh boy does that grass ever look green over there. Seriously, it happens about every 2-3 years. I had the 'itch' 6 years ago and moved 1000km from home to this fabulous ocean side city. Got knocked up (okay, was blessed 'with child') that same week. Talk about a change. Three years later, child and I moved into our own place - perfection means you beat a dead horse dead just to prove it's really, super dead. Two years after that moved to another place that was a little bigger. As far as jobs go, I go thru those on average every year or so. And this was not by choice. Lay-off's in the airline industry are uh, common...I'm sure you've heard...

I decided that huge changes were in the works. I mean, I've been living in the same place for two years, and my job...a year and a half. I am due, my friends, I am due. Two weeks ago, I had a job interview for this job that just seemed totally awesome. It was me. Absolutely me. My first clue that the interview was going down hill was when the interviewer started checking out her manicure instead. Isn't that the international sign of boredom, picking at your cuticles? Needless to say, I did not get the job.

Then the other day, I found this awesome little house for rent. A house!!! I was sick with excitement (and fear....) It had a fenced in yard, a dishwasher, and a washer and dryer - it's the simple things. It looked like a little piece of heaven. And the price was incredible. I was in love. I was soooo excited...until I google mapped it. It's in a "light" industrial area, which in this case means a block away from a railway hub. Those of you who know me, know how I love my sleep.

Two attempts at change, and twice it didn't work out. You know what this tells me? It tells me that I am right where I'm supposed to be. Maybe if I'm looking for change, I should consider a new book, or hair colour. I'm staying right where I am. I might not know the reasons why I'm here, but it's never been more clear that 'here' is where I belong.

However......

Subsequent to my previous post, I forgot to mention the silver lining. Of course, as a pessimist, I tend to look at the glass as half empty. My theory is that if I expect the worst and something better happens, then I am pleasantly surprised. Anyways, my point is just that sometimes I forget to see the good, because I'm so busy dwelling on the bad.

The good here is that I am saving money on razors and shaving gel. I haven't shaved my legs in probably a month. In fact, the last time I shaved them was only because Q told me they looked like Uncle Dede's legs (my brother....) Sufficiently embarrassed, I shaved them. I figure winter is coming very, very soon so a little extra layer for warmth will be welcome. If I can't cuddle with a man for warmth, I might as well wait until Q starts complaining again. Let's just file this one under "Too Much Information"

If You Scratch My Back...

You know what I miss the most about having a "significant other?" It's not that they can fix my toilet (dude, I can do that!!) It's not that they take out the garbage. Sure...cuddling is nice. And so is cooking for more than just me and Q. Companionship....meh, good, I guess. But what I really, really, really miss is having someone to scratch my back. Seriously, it sucks. I mean a door frame can do in a pinch, but it's just not the same. It doesn't give you goose bumps. It doesn't do it with feeling. Sometimes I can talk Q into it...if I pay him. The kid is good. I mean, he's only 5 and already he's figured out how to make a quick buck. The going rate is a quarter, which sounds like a pretty good deal except for the fact that he lasts maybe 30 seconds. That's fifty cents per minute. My math sucks, but isn't that like $30.00/hour? I don't even make that. Kinda makes me proud, though....my kid is smart....he's gonna go places (or rob people blind...)

Ya, so there's the back scratching. I really miss that. It's been three years since Q's father and I parted ways. While I have had a few flings here and there, I haven't found anyone to have a 'relationship' with. I guess I lied when I said I didn't miss the companionship. I really do. Ugh, I really, really miss the cuddling. And I hate taking out the garbage. If I really wanted to fix toilets, I think I would have been a plumber...they make more than $30.00 per hour and I'm pretty sure it's even more than that on weekends...

Honestly, I'm feeling like a blob. I know, it's a fairly nondescript word, isn't it? That's exactly how I'm feeling, like a completely nondescript asexual blob. Men used to check me out when I walked by, they used to whistle. One time I walked up to this guy who whistled at me and said, "I am not a dog, I am not an object. I do not answer to whistles or cat calls. You want my attention, you come up to me and talk to me. You understand?" And then I walked away, secretly loving the fact that he whistled at me. Ahhhh, reminiscing....

But what happened to that person? Where did she go? When did I turn into this? I haven't kissed a man in months, I haven't had sex in well...let's just say a loooooong time (my mom reads this...) and they're not exactly lining up either. Sigh. I guess I better get used to scratching my own back or resign myself to giving my son a small fortune.

The Crazy Fish Lady

I have no fear of becoming the 'crazy cat lady.' I don't have any cats. I have fish. Two of them. I talk to them. They get all excited when I do. They come to the surface of their bowls and flitter their fins, and I can feel their love. I feel it. I feel the love.

My fear, especially recently, is becoming the crazy fish lady. The ranting crazy fish lady. I feel myself slipping into rant mode more and more often. You think I'm joking, but I was actually in bed and had to get out in order that I may write a rant blog. Let me tell you, I am pounding the keys right now. Oh. Yes. I. Am. and it feels good. Sooooooo good.

For instance, I feel as though writing a rant letter to the newspaper would be absolutely appropriate right now. Why? Oh I will tell you why. On the third page of the newspaper (so important, right?) they do a full article about this MP (Member of Parliament for my US counterparts) named Hedy Fry who thinks that they should put an H1N1 clinic offering vaccines at Parliament Hill in Ottawa specifically for government type folk. For the simple reason that she has to shake hands all day long, and God knows who she's touching. Are you KIDDING me?!?!?!?!?! Isn't it the Government who has created a whole campaign around not shaking hands at all, but maybe giving "knuckles" or touching elbows instead? Oh, yes. Yes, it is. So why the Newspaper decided to make this breaking news is beyond me. And furthermore, who says you're more important than I am? Really? Get in line, sister. Get in line.

Along the H1N1 rant....ever since it was discovered, there has been mass hysteria created around it. Where ever there is H1N1, you can be sure there is a reporter and a government official calling it a 'pandemic.' So, Health Canada goes around spouting off about some vaccine that has been created and tested and they're suggesting that EVERYONE gets the shot. In fact, they go so far as to call this the "young person's" virus, and then officially recommend that everyone get it. They say it's "critical" that everyone in Canada under the age of 65 get it. People are dying, dammit. Dying! What's wrong with you people? Do you want to die????? They fail to mention that people die from the ordinary old flu every year. So, get the flu shot, okay? Oh, and by the way, we don't actually have enough for everyone. We weren't expecting such a big response to the vaccine shot, I mean, geez people it's just the flu...

I decide to get Q vaccinated. Only because I would feel absolutely horrible if he did get it, and I knew there was something I could have done to prevent it. So, I call my doctor's office last week and I'm told by the receptionist that he's not high risk, so call back on Tuesday. Today is Tuesday. I called back. And the exact same woman answers and tells me they're all booked up for 5 year olds. Oh no no no no no. (Please note: I am usually very passive aggressive...) I say: "Well, this is really frustrating, because I spoke to you last week, and you told me to call back on Tuesday. I'm calling back and you're saying there's no available appointments?" She gets all snotty with me and puts me on hold for 10 minutes. She comes back on the line and says "I have Thursday at 2:20." "Uh, he has school until 2:35" "Well, then I guess you're going to have to pull him out early, aren't you?" I take a deep breath. "Okay." See, she has the power. She can cancel that appointment without telling me, if I'm not polite. That is cruel. Just cruel. She tries to hang up, but I have more. I need to book my physical. "Look," she says. "I'm busy. There's a line up out the door. I don't have time for you. Call back tomorrow." And she hangs up. Are you kidding me? Are you?!?!?!?!?!

I'm yelling at drivers. This is completely fair, though. Last time I checked, we all had to learn the same rules of the road and take the same test before we could drive. So, you all know - just as well as I - that the right lane is for the slow cars and the left lane is for me. GET OUT OF MY LANE. We also all know that when you're turning left, you pull out into the intersection and then turn when safe to do so. So, pull out into the effing intersection. You also know that there is a speed limit. Go the speed limit. If you don't feel comfortable going 50km/hr, then you don't get to drive. My kid can drive better than you. And by the way, if you're not turning...why are you driving with your signal on? And yes, I am perfect. Check my record. Not even a speeding ticket...

If this is supposed to be therapeutic, we are in trouble my friends. My blood pressure is sky rocketing. I can feel it with every word I type. So, I am going to spare you (and my heart) the agony of listening to me rant about my ex. And my best friends ex....what is it with men? Sometimes, all I can do is pray for a big bus (uh.....ha, ha....ha...)

I am single. I have fish. I dislike the BS that comes with men. I talk to my fish. I rant. Out loud. Oh, did I forget to mention that - I'm talking out loud to myself? Well, it's more like muttering, but whatever. I fit the bill. The crazy fish lady bill.

What a week to quit smoking. Note to self....pms + withdrawal = does not play well with others...

I'm going to go take an Atavan. Maybe that will help.

Baby, Remember My Name

Right now, I'm avoiding. Life, I guess some would say and truth be told, they're not far off the mark. Hurry up and wait, it'll get better.

Last night was one of those rare occasions where I had some time without Q. I decided to go to an adult movie...okay, clarification is in order...not an adult film, an adult movie. You know, one with no cartoon characters? These ones have plot lines (Yes, yes, you could argue that Disney Movies also have plot lines...) and adults and if you luck out, a fabulous message and a few goose bumps. We found this scummy movie theater by my house that offers movies at $4.50! Can you believe it? What a steal!! Of course, the seats were disgusting, and my girlfriend and I are wondering if you can get bedbugs from disgustingly dirty theater seats. They've never been cleaned I'm sure, and we really tried to not think about all the stories of what can/may happen in movie theaters. We sat, we didn't move, we didn't touch anything, we watched a movie for $4.50!!! Side note: a third the price, a third!! I may mention this again sometime during my blog....please be forewarned!

Our choices were limited, but we finally decided on "FAME." Absolutely worth the $4.50 (told you) my friends. Oh I had goosebumps (um...hopefully goosebumps and not bug bites....) the whole movie. It wasn't as sordid as the original t.v. series, however I was 5, so kissing and holding hands was definitely pushing the envelope. It made me want to dance, it made me want to sing at the top of my lungs, it made me want to act. Dammit, I want to be a triple threat!

Go out and live your dream. GO DO IT. It's going to be tough, and it's going to be a lot of hard work. Sometimes you will feel like giving up because you're not the best, fastest, most creative. But stop feeling sorry for yourself, push through it and show the world you can do it. Shit, forget the world, show yourself you can do it. It's a rush, it's a thrill, it's what life is all about. What are you waiting for?

Alright, now I've given myself a pep-talk I'll tell you what I'm avoiding today. I've decided to write a book. I have an idea, I have a few characters in mind. I have an ending....oooooooh, maybe I should write the book backwards. Co0incidentally, I don't have a beginning. And the more I think about the book I want to write, the more idiotic it sounds. But it could be really good, really, really good, if a really, really good author wrote it. I'll never know if I'm a really, really good author though, until I actually try. I've got to get these words out my head and into my computer. I've got to stop fantasizing about what could be, and realize what is. I'm going to write a book.