After careful consideration of all options, things to do in and around the city, I have finally decided where to take myself. I'm going to the symphony.
Clicking my mouse I checked off the highest price ticket for the best seat for the Montreal Symphony Orchestra Holiday show.
Cost per ticket: $61.00
Number of tickets: click arrow up to 1 please.
Check out.
There's a really terrific feeling associated with not wanting or needing to take anyone anywhere. There doesn't have to be fake laughs, sitting next to someone who may not be enjoying the show, awkward moments when your knees touch, feeling like you have to entertain the other person like you're in an episode of Romper Room, or the inevitable uncomfortable first kiss (although those are really great sometimes aren't they...).
I figure I'll take myself out to dinner. Enjoy a really good glass of wine, stroll over to the venue and sit myself down among hand-holding couples, families, silver anniversary achievers and feel great about being on a date with the one and only me.
Thursday, November 23, 2006
Wednesday, November 22, 2006
I cried over spilt milk
Waking at 4am to my fever breaking and the feeling of shards of glass in my throat wasn't my ideal mid-sleep happening. I fell back to sleep every other half hour and waking each time I needed to swallow. My neck feels like I've been clotheslined by a UFC Champion and my hair hurt when I got into the shower. I hate being sick. I still have a fever.
Whenever I'm sick I am always still hungry. I know, that's weird but anyway, I needed to eat breakfast and take my vitamins so I poured myself a bowl of Special K which I think gets soggy in record time just to piss me off. I mean, I love the stuff but it sogs up like a sponge. I usually eat it pretty quickly. So here I am walking into my bathroom to get my vitamins and sploosh - cereal goes pouring all over my counter, down the front and all over the floor splashing up onto my feet. Shitshitshit. Do I really need this today? Like really. Now I have a decision to make - considering the sog-factor, do I clean it up right now or grab my vitamins and leave it until I'm done? Hating a mess I cleaned it up... quickly. Feeling quite proud of myself that my cereal hasn't reached unbearable sog yet I walk over to the couch where I take my usual seat and watch Canada AM. Sitting down I poured another quarter of my cereal into my lap, all over my pyjama bottoms and onto the couch which dripped slowly onto the floor. Shitty McShitShit shit! I get up to get the coolness of the milk away from my bottom and I dump cereal all over my coffee table and carpet. Tears have formed in my eyes. I'm swearing every mother f-ing thing I can think of. I see milk dripping off the side of my table onto the floor and I scream $%@# it! I take off my pyjama bottoms with my one free hand and stand bare-bummed wearing nothing but a tank top eating my breakfast watching the news.
I love my life.
Whenever I'm sick I am always still hungry. I know, that's weird but anyway, I needed to eat breakfast and take my vitamins so I poured myself a bowl of Special K which I think gets soggy in record time just to piss me off. I mean, I love the stuff but it sogs up like a sponge. I usually eat it pretty quickly. So here I am walking into my bathroom to get my vitamins and sploosh - cereal goes pouring all over my counter, down the front and all over the floor splashing up onto my feet. Shitshitshit. Do I really need this today? Like really. Now I have a decision to make - considering the sog-factor, do I clean it up right now or grab my vitamins and leave it until I'm done? Hating a mess I cleaned it up... quickly. Feeling quite proud of myself that my cereal hasn't reached unbearable sog yet I walk over to the couch where I take my usual seat and watch Canada AM. Sitting down I poured another quarter of my cereal into my lap, all over my pyjama bottoms and onto the couch which dripped slowly onto the floor. Shitty McShitShit shit! I get up to get the coolness of the milk away from my bottom and I dump cereal all over my coffee table and carpet. Tears have formed in my eyes. I'm swearing every mother f-ing thing I can think of. I see milk dripping off the side of my table onto the floor and I scream $%@# it! I take off my pyjama bottoms with my one free hand and stand bare-bummed wearing nothing but a tank top eating my breakfast watching the news.
I love my life.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
Drop Zone continued... or not.
Ok, so I've stopped falling and I made it. Weeeee....... Although, I've caught something terrible which has given me swollen glands (not the good kinds) and a fever - which may explain the rest of this post but we'll see. I figure writing under the influence of heat fighting off bacteria is better than drooling on my keyboard through a Nyquil haze so here we go.
Starting out a new relationship we're all gung-ho right? Making our esthetics appointments, extra grooming, endless emails back and forth, texts, all trying to express the ultimate joy you feel when you're with someone. Your heart skips beats and you feel "ohhh, this time is different. Now I really know what I want and I want what I know. I enjoy this person. We get along sooo well. We're like two puzzle pieces..." Click. The pieces come together and so it begins.
I'm usually the one who leaves pretty much everything all out on the table - or so the saying goes. I hide nothing, expose everything, and still think this is a good idea. I believe it's a mature way to start out a relationship when you're in your 30's. That, and the quick qualification round.
Have kids? Want any? Smoke? Addicted? Live in this city? Yeah, I have geographicus faraway isbetteris. GFI. The further you are the more I'm attracted to you but whatever... this isn't about that. So, how well do you groom? Clean home? Dirty fingernails? Play an instrument? Are you generous to your community? Are you angry? Do you drive? Yeah, that's another important one, if you live 800km's away you best have a license. And a car. That is operational. That isn't your mothers. Speaking of which, do you live with your mom? Cuz that, my friend, is the most non-sexy thing going. Well, that and back hair.
The whole process, well, it's almost like those monkeys that pick bugs off each other eh? Wait, does that come later in the relationship? I think so. Ok, so then it's like the Newlywed Game (commitment-phobes look away and breathe into the bag) where if all the answers match then they should be together. I wish I had a quiz. I wish I had a crystal ball to tell me when someone would hit Release.
Oh, found my point... *thanks for your patience by the way*
...if you're still reading...
There I was in a relationship that we both thought was incredible, passionate, enlightening, growing even after a very short period of time. Things were moving along so well. We laughed, we talked, we cooked, we kissed for hours, we touched all the time, we were being us. The real us. And click. The sound of the puzzle pieces separating themselves from each other and my half went plummeting down the Drop Zone. I didn't even know I had a ticket to get on the thing. I thought I was going to be in the "It's a small world" ride like the one in Florida. It's a smooth boat ride through happy villages with dancing people and smiling faces. Now I just want to beat those happy bastards with an oar. Not really. Ok, maybe half of me does knowing they're made out of resin.
Point being, I didn't expect the Drop Zone otherwise I would have gotten out of the cue. I'm afraid of hypothetical heights. Although, even with that fear I don't think it's the fall that got me - I think it's that no one was at the bottom to catch me.
Starting out a new relationship we're all gung-ho right? Making our esthetics appointments, extra grooming, endless emails back and forth, texts, all trying to express the ultimate joy you feel when you're with someone. Your heart skips beats and you feel "ohhh, this time is different. Now I really know what I want and I want what I know. I enjoy this person. We get along sooo well. We're like two puzzle pieces..." Click. The pieces come together and so it begins.
I'm usually the one who leaves pretty much everything all out on the table - or so the saying goes. I hide nothing, expose everything, and still think this is a good idea. I believe it's a mature way to start out a relationship when you're in your 30's. That, and the quick qualification round.
Have kids? Want any? Smoke? Addicted? Live in this city? Yeah, I have geographicus faraway isbetteris. GFI. The further you are the more I'm attracted to you but whatever... this isn't about that. So, how well do you groom? Clean home? Dirty fingernails? Play an instrument? Are you generous to your community? Are you angry? Do you drive? Yeah, that's another important one, if you live 800km's away you best have a license. And a car. That is operational. That isn't your mothers. Speaking of which, do you live with your mom? Cuz that, my friend, is the most non-sexy thing going. Well, that and back hair.
The whole process, well, it's almost like those monkeys that pick bugs off each other eh? Wait, does that come later in the relationship? I think so. Ok, so then it's like the Newlywed Game (commitment-phobes look away and breathe into the bag) where if all the answers match then they should be together. I wish I had a quiz. I wish I had a crystal ball to tell me when someone would hit Release.
Oh, found my point... *thanks for your patience by the way*
...if you're still reading...
There I was in a relationship that we both thought was incredible, passionate, enlightening, growing even after a very short period of time. Things were moving along so well. We laughed, we talked, we cooked, we kissed for hours, we touched all the time, we were being us. The real us. And click. The sound of the puzzle pieces separating themselves from each other and my half went plummeting down the Drop Zone. I didn't even know I had a ticket to get on the thing. I thought I was going to be in the "It's a small world" ride like the one in Florida. It's a smooth boat ride through happy villages with dancing people and smiling faces. Now I just want to beat those happy bastards with an oar. Not really. Ok, maybe half of me does knowing they're made out of resin.
Point being, I didn't expect the Drop Zone otherwise I would have gotten out of the cue. I'm afraid of hypothetical heights. Although, even with that fear I don't think it's the fall that got me - I think it's that no one was at the bottom to catch me.
Stop the ride, I want to get off.
I wish life was more like a calm wave pool that we could wade in for hours, days, weeks, accepting the tiny jostles that come our way.
Today I find myself strapped into the Drop Zone tower at 780 feet and someone just hit the Release button. Shit.
...to be continued...
Today I find myself strapped into the Drop Zone tower at 780 feet and someone just hit the Release button. Shit.
...to be continued...
Friday, November 10, 2006
Star light star bright...
Reading My so-called love life's blog where she shared some of her dreams and asked us to do the same if we were so inclined. I guess I never thought of putting pen to paper and making a top ten list. So, here goes in no particular order...
1. Travel Eastern Europe, Prague specifically
2. Have a conversation with my sisters
3. Learn to let go
4. Work for a non-profit organization
5. Visit Chiang Mai, Thailand
6. Play the violin, well
...wow, this is tougher than I thought...
7. Build a home with someone I love, having children ties into this too
8. Invent a board game
9. Publish my book
10. Finish this list... Check!
And, like My so-called asked, what are yours?
1. Travel Eastern Europe, Prague specifically
2. Have a conversation with my sisters
3. Learn to let go
4. Work for a non-profit organization
5. Visit Chiang Mai, Thailand
6. Play the violin, well
...wow, this is tougher than I thought...
7. Build a home with someone I love, having children ties into this too
8. Invent a board game
9. Publish my book
10. Finish this list... Check!
And, like My so-called asked, what are yours?
Get by with a little help from my friends...
You know, there is really nothing better than having lunch with a friend who always leaves you feeling better than before.
As I'm walking towards him in the parking lot he exclaims, "wow, you're looking great!"
Knowing I've been working out and on a new skin care regime I proudly say "Thanks friend!" and smile while cocking my head sideways.
Talk over burgers and fries includes how he loves, absolutely loves his new job, then moves onto his love life, the lack of mine and general rules of how to be and not to be in a relationship.
"How'd you get soo hooked up over this guy in just a month?" he asks about my recent break up. Since we only have an hour for lunch and we've already filled the first twenty minutes with how-are-you's I sing him the "dating is different in your 30's" theme song. Oddly enough, being that he's been a relationship for the last eight years he understood every lyric. Sex in the City fan perhaps? Didn't ask.
Sidebar: I'll compose the lyrics one day, likely in the form of poetry but if I wrote it today it would either come out like a "Hit the road Jack" ditty or a rip off of Whitney's "I will always love you" - who by the way is looking really great since getting off the crack.
... Aaaanyway, point of this was to share how amazing my friends are. I don't know how they know but whenever I need a pick-me-up they are right there...
If anyone's got some dating rules for the 30 somethings I'd love to hear 'em!
As I'm walking towards him in the parking lot he exclaims, "wow, you're looking great!"
Knowing I've been working out and on a new skin care regime I proudly say "Thanks friend!" and smile while cocking my head sideways.
Talk over burgers and fries includes how he loves, absolutely loves his new job, then moves onto his love life, the lack of mine and general rules of how to be and not to be in a relationship.
"How'd you get soo hooked up over this guy in just a month?" he asks about my recent break up. Since we only have an hour for lunch and we've already filled the first twenty minutes with how-are-you's I sing him the "dating is different in your 30's" theme song. Oddly enough, being that he's been a relationship for the last eight years he understood every lyric. Sex in the City fan perhaps? Didn't ask.
Sidebar: I'll compose the lyrics one day, likely in the form of poetry but if I wrote it today it would either come out like a "Hit the road Jack" ditty or a rip off of Whitney's "I will always love you" - who by the way is looking really great since getting off the crack.
... Aaaanyway, point of this was to share how amazing my friends are. I don't know how they know but whenever I need a pick-me-up they are right there...
If anyone's got some dating rules for the 30 somethings I'd love to hear 'em!
Thursday, November 09, 2006
Livin' on the edge
So I've been watching a lot of Miami Ink lately, you know that show on TLC which features a tattoo shop... well, I've been wondering whether or not I want a tattoo. I see people who are getting symbols to live by, people to get over - or under, love to let go of, pet to hold on to, or simply a piece of art they can admire and have admired. I'm really not sure what kind of permanent message I would have inked onto my person. Since it's there for life it's not an easy decision.
From watching the show I've learned responsible tattooing is an art form, not something I understood before. It's wearable creativity. But, unlike a painting on your wall, you can't stuff in it your hall closet when you get sick of looking at it (which is probably a good argument for placement on your ass or back), nor can you pass it along to anyone after your death. It holds no commercial value on the market yet is of priceless value to you. How cool.
So I've been thinking, what would I get? Tough call. I see people getting fairies, tool boxes, skateboards, lips, dog faces, bubbles, flowers, religious symbolism, Asian characters, In Memoriams... I don't know if I am committed to an idea or image enough to have it inked on my body.
...sigh...
I think I'll know it when I see it. Maybe by then I won't want it. I guess for now, instead of getting a ridiculous arm band, Daffy Duck, candy cane, or my name in case I forget spelled in Japanese backwards tattooed across my back I'll hold off.
You know, I think I'm too much of a chicken anyway. I like to believe I could have this Zen-like message violently stained on me by a machine designed to prick me 54,912 times in the same freakin' spot. I like to believe that one day I'll know what that message is! Truth be known, I will have that message figured out one day but more than likely will have it on a post-it taped to my monitor.
From watching the show I've learned responsible tattooing is an art form, not something I understood before. It's wearable creativity. But, unlike a painting on your wall, you can't stuff in it your hall closet when you get sick of looking at it (which is probably a good argument for placement on your ass or back), nor can you pass it along to anyone after your death. It holds no commercial value on the market yet is of priceless value to you. How cool.
So I've been thinking, what would I get? Tough call. I see people getting fairies, tool boxes, skateboards, lips, dog faces, bubbles, flowers, religious symbolism, Asian characters, In Memoriams... I don't know if I am committed to an idea or image enough to have it inked on my body.
...sigh...
I think I'll know it when I see it. Maybe by then I won't want it. I guess for now, instead of getting a ridiculous arm band, Daffy Duck, candy cane, or my name in case I forget spelled in Japanese backwards tattooed across my back I'll hold off.
You know, I think I'm too much of a chicken anyway. I like to believe I could have this Zen-like message violently stained on me by a machine designed to prick me 54,912 times in the same freakin' spot. I like to believe that one day I'll know what that message is! Truth be known, I will have that message figured out one day but more than likely will have it on a post-it taped to my monitor.
Tuesday, November 07, 2006
Take this quiz crazy cat lady
Whenever I log out of my spam filled hotmail account I am forwarded to the Sympatico MSN website. Daily there is at least one quiz aimed at the single woman and they read like this...
What's your dating style?
How to meet Mr. Right.
Is he cheating on you?
Where to meet your Mr. Right.
Are you a good kisser?
I've looked through these ridiculous questionnaires and am convinced that their sole purpose is to make us feel better thinking we are more marketable on the dating scene. Of the four possible answers from the multiple choice list we shrug off three of them knowing they are illogical, creepy or never-in-a-million-years-would-I-be-caught-dead-like-that. Seriously. They feed our ego by making us believe we will never be that crazy cat lady who smells like yarn.
There is no quiz in the world that can qualify you as date-able, lovable, kissable, touchable, or sexually appealing. That's what makes humanity so mind-blowing. We are all unique and love different things in our own ways and no quiz on earth could ever label us all. And until there is one, I'm off to feed my cat.
What's your dating style?
How to meet Mr. Right.
Is he cheating on you?
Where to meet your Mr. Right.
Are you a good kisser?
I've looked through these ridiculous questionnaires and am convinced that their sole purpose is to make us feel better thinking we are more marketable on the dating scene. Of the four possible answers from the multiple choice list we shrug off three of them knowing they are illogical, creepy or never-in-a-million-years-would-I-be-caught-dead-like-that. Seriously. They feed our ego by making us believe we will never be that crazy cat lady who smells like yarn.
There is no quiz in the world that can qualify you as date-able, lovable, kissable, touchable, or sexually appealing. That's what makes humanity so mind-blowing. We are all unique and love different things in our own ways and no quiz on earth could ever label us all. And until there is one, I'm off to feed my cat.
Thursday, November 02, 2006
Found: Users manual vol. 8
...random thoughts in no particular order...
I've always been a hopeless romantic, wanting so desperately to fall hopelessly in love and ride off into a beautiful sunset. I am learning to be a bit of a realist knowing that things may not turn out precisely like the fairy tale I imagined - we may be riding off on an emu instead. I can handle that. If it has a saddle.
Do you guys remember that toilet paper commercial (I know, weird analogy so wait for it) where the kid was learning how to ice skate and kept shoving the rolls down the back of his pants to protect him if he fell? That has been my motto for life. And before you ask, no, I'm not shoving anything down my pants (...yay for me...) but I have been protecting myself from things that haven't even happened yet. I know that wearing knee pads, wrist guards and a helmet are recommended for rollerblading, yet I still don't know where to buy the gear to protect my heart. I know, totally corny and ick so move on.
In relationships I seem to leave myself very vulnerable right from the word go, letting my mate know what I'm feeling, when I'm feeling it, why I'm feeling it and how. Overwhelming? Nooooo not at all..... *right* Evidently I'm comfortable in letting people in, granting all access passes allowing them to see all of me. I can only imagine what it would be like to live on the receiving end. Holy shit. I know it's a defense mechanism, something I thought was a great idea... not so. I never understood that some thoughts I have are just for me and it's ok to have them. I don't have to share everything with that one person. I can keep things private. I can work through thoughts whether they are life-changing or trivial. I can do this, all on my own and cherish the unique relationship I have with me.
Another thing I can do for myself - validate. I've learned that just by me feeling or thinking something is validation enough. I always believed that validation came from the outside. Again, not so. Hmph.
I love me. And whether or not a man is in my life has no affect on that statement at all.
It's ok to miss someone I haven't spoken to in months and not call them because I know it would hurt.
It is up to me to set and respect my boundaries and expect nothing from others. Now, this I knew but didn't always exercise it.
Most of the old adages I heard from my mom, neighbour and fourth grade teacher now magically make sense.
"I need to clear my head" is a sentence I never understood until McDreamy said it.
Aha moments seem to come in quick succession when we're in the midst of self-discovery, particularly after an experience that has broken your spirit and wounded your beliefs. Lucky for me wounds heal, even breaks.
I've always been a hopeless romantic, wanting so desperately to fall hopelessly in love and ride off into a beautiful sunset. I am learning to be a bit of a realist knowing that things may not turn out precisely like the fairy tale I imagined - we may be riding off on an emu instead. I can handle that. If it has a saddle.
Do you guys remember that toilet paper commercial (I know, weird analogy so wait for it) where the kid was learning how to ice skate and kept shoving the rolls down the back of his pants to protect him if he fell? That has been my motto for life. And before you ask, no, I'm not shoving anything down my pants (...yay for me...) but I have been protecting myself from things that haven't even happened yet. I know that wearing knee pads, wrist guards and a helmet are recommended for rollerblading, yet I still don't know where to buy the gear to protect my heart. I know, totally corny and ick so move on.
In relationships I seem to leave myself very vulnerable right from the word go, letting my mate know what I'm feeling, when I'm feeling it, why I'm feeling it and how. Overwhelming? Nooooo not at all..... *right* Evidently I'm comfortable in letting people in, granting all access passes allowing them to see all of me. I can only imagine what it would be like to live on the receiving end. Holy shit. I know it's a defense mechanism, something I thought was a great idea... not so. I never understood that some thoughts I have are just for me and it's ok to have them. I don't have to share everything with that one person. I can keep things private. I can work through thoughts whether they are life-changing or trivial. I can do this, all on my own and cherish the unique relationship I have with me.
Another thing I can do for myself - validate. I've learned that just by me feeling or thinking something is validation enough. I always believed that validation came from the outside. Again, not so. Hmph.
I love me. And whether or not a man is in my life has no affect on that statement at all.
It's ok to miss someone I haven't spoken to in months and not call them because I know it would hurt.
It is up to me to set and respect my boundaries and expect nothing from others. Now, this I knew but didn't always exercise it.
Most of the old adages I heard from my mom, neighbour and fourth grade teacher now magically make sense.
"I need to clear my head" is a sentence I never understood until McDreamy said it.
Aha moments seem to come in quick succession when we're in the midst of self-discovery, particularly after an experience that has broken your spirit and wounded your beliefs. Lucky for me wounds heal, even breaks.
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