1 missed call

Why is she calling? Is she ok? Did something happen with so-and-so? Did they talk about it? Will it work out? Is it over? Is it blissful? Is it happening? Did plans change? Are you coming with me tomorrow? It's ok if you're not. It's going to be just him and I anyway, everyone else cancelled. I won't need a buffer. We'll be great. I got a raise. You did too. I inspired someone today and I didn't even say a word. I have plans.

I had all these things to say and I missed her call. Purpose of this rant that makes no sense to any of you - this is a snapshot of what goes on in my brain when I see someone has called and I've missed them. I think of all the things I want to tell them then don't end up speaking to them at all. My friends wouldn't likely appreciate a four minute one-sided conversation message so I leave it at "Hey, it's me, call me back. Bye." Meanwhile, between the Hey and Bye are a few questions, some statements, but always, always an "I love you friend." I just realized as I was writing that sentence that THAT right there is the purpose of this post. I know I don't tell you I love you as often as I could so there it is. To those of you who know it, take it. To those who are new here, I have some for you too.

Wow, total mush... I know. It happens. Shan, remember the Purolator woman? Yeah.

Canada Day... plus a hundred and some odd days.

I love love love love this picture!!! Shan, you are stunning.

From left to right: Kim, Tamara, Me, Booger (behind the pole), Shannon, Meesh (in white cap), Sharon and Gary. Good times, good fun, AMAZING friends!

Ex Files

I finally developed two rolls of film that I had been too lazy to take in. Knowing some of my pictures would be from the fabulous vacation I took this year and one ex. I was anxious for the former... in the sentence, not lover. So excitedly I get back to my car, rip open the envelope and there is the summer-fling-ex, right on top. Of the pile. Sighing, I shift past those of him curled up on my couch attempting to look sexy and irresistible.

I flip to pictures of our Canada Day party at Shannon's - which I'm attempting to post with no luck. All smiling faces we're drinking and having an amazing party. I giggle remembering what Booger said to me as he poured shots all over the counter and how he almost set the curtains on fire then BAM!... a snapshot of me and the Big Ex. There we are in, I have to say, one of the best pictures of us ever taken. I felt sick. Instead of sinking into it I dialed the only person I knew who would understand. I love that she answered. Despite it being more than six months since the Big Breakup she listened and empathized. "I know exactly how that feels" were the perfect string of words I needed to hear.

Every now and again the universe throws something at me, almost as if to say "Are you ready for this?" (who here is humming that 80's dance track?). Sigh. I wasn't ready to see him and he has occupied some of my thoughts of the last 36 hours, though mostly focusing on the reasons we aren't together. Far too many times I would pine over what could have been. This time it wasn't, and I know that now.

Thanks ICS delivery guy!

You ever have those days where you've thrown your hair up in a clip too lazy to blow dry? You have thrown on clothes that are too early in the wardrobe rotation because you're too tired to iron? Then you schlep your way into the office feeling not too rested but just ok?

Today is one of those for me except getting into the elevator the ICS delivery guy said such a wonderful thing to me and it made my day. Ever since then I have been walking on cloud nine.

How great is it that when people say genuinely kind things, or give us a little smile that it could change the whole outlook of our day. I wonder how my day would have turned out if someone had flipped me the mighty bird on the way in. See what a difference a word makes!

Share a smile people... telling someone they have a natural beauty works too.

From the archives.... edited and still relevant

Turning thirty was a shock. Not in the way you might think… it was as if someone turned on a light switch and suddenly everything was clear, everything made perfect sense. Well, almost everything. I am going to die. We all are and it is my mortality and that of those around me that I am most concerned with. This life is our only chance to make anything of ourselves, to have a life as full as possible. Full, like most other things, is relative. For some, working at a corner store, making enough just to have food on the table and perhaps go out on a Friday night to play bingo is full. Not for me. I crave, and for the most part have, a life full of passion, fulfillment and purpose. I try to do as much good as possible but really – how is selling advertising fulfilling my purpose? I suppose I’m as afraid of life as I am of death. I wish I could freeze frame all the great moments or hit pause while I’m trying to make a decision so I don’t lose a moment of it.

I’m afraid of wasting time. I’m afraid of investing so much and it not being enough. I'm afraid of not knowing my direction. I’m afraid of having my heart broken again. Feeling a hurt that you can never put into words but is soo tangible you swear you could take a bite out of it.

The more I live the more I die and that fact is one that I have spent hours pondering and have shed tears over. It’s so short. I know the true living moments are in those frames when you’re making key choices, it’s all a journey, one day at a time, blah blah blah… I get it. I really do but in my heart I’m petrified. Right now I’m in the midst of growth that breaks me and enlightens me all at the same time. Maybe I’m not really afraid of life – just life right now.

A full week of me-date

For the last few months I have been consumed with the idea of going on vacation alone. I thought Prague, maybe Asia, perhaps even Iceland but I could never make the decision enough to sit and plan it out. I guess it didn't feel right.

If I go to the Czech Republic, Thailand or Iceland I want to share it with someone. The experience, the memories, and frankly, the hotel bill. It's expensive if you're traveling and don't want to sleep in a hostels small room with 11 other people. I wouldn't get any sleep thinking buddy beside me was rummaging through my back pack looking for floss or tube socks. See, I want to hold hands on the Charles Bridge, kiss in a hot spring in Reykjavik and rent a two-man scooter and dodge the rickshaw drivers in Chiang Mai.

When I go away alone I'm going to an all-inclusive. I know, I know, I always said I hated those places blabbering that they were a waste of time and money. That was before I knew that silence and serenity were actually good for me. Besides, they have day trips in Antigua, Punta Cana, the Mayan Riviera to see and explore! Some places have 16th century villages, others have Mayan ruins dating from 250 - 900 ad. I don't know which one I'll choose yet but I think a last minute deal in March sounds like a recipe for bliss.

Imagine it, the very last minute I book time off and hop a plane to who-knows-where. And so I wait. Weeeee.......

Push vs. pull...

As children we were all told 'no, you can't have that' at one time or another. If you grew up in my house it was a clear sign that the object was desirable and worth crawling through tiny Lego pieces on your knees for. Yeah, I had three brothers.

Things that repel me, things that hurt, things and people that push me away, general unavailability continue to be attractive qualities... until now. I figure I've done that long enough. Right in front of me I have something really good pulling me in... and I'm letting it.

I have a date!

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.

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.

Great quote...

Fate loves the fearless.

~ James Russell Lowell ~

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.

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...

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?

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!

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.

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.

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.

Some secrets I've been keeping...and other silly thoughts.

You have nothing to hide if you don't have any more secrets. While it seems like I'm going to start a run-on confessional, I'm not. I will however discuss a variety of topics that are affecting me right now - not sure what they'll be yet - but Shannon has requested I update this damn thing so here goes...

I was driving behind the Slushie truck - you know those yummy tasty syrupy treats we'd have as kids? The dog with big floppy ears used to be plastered all over the machine and our cups? Well, apparently he's made new friends. Seems puppy likes 'em with big boobs and low cut shirts. I want to shake these marketing teams until their heads roll off their shoulders - like really, who do they think they're marketing to?!? This whole thing about sex-sells sends me...

I love milk. I have a 2 litre jug of it in the fridge at work with my name on it. Ten bucks says people are going to use it for their cappuccino. Twenty says I catch 'em.

Do sesame seeds sometimes leave a sulfur taste in your mouth? Am I the only one this happens to? It's gross.

I don't tell a friend I find our friendship totally one-sided for fear of ending our long-term relationship. Don't ask why, I still don't know.

My friend has an animated ass as her profile picture on MSN. Every time she logs in I see it and it makes my eyes roll.

I saw the girl walking with the cane again. This time she was using it. It reminded me that not everything happens as quickly as we would like it to, especially recovery.

I need to learn to have patience with the things that take time. Realize that not everything will happen exactly when I need it to. That others, particularly those I care about, can't have it that way either.

And saving the best for last...

Anyone heard that "Lips of an angel" song that talks about him pining over this girl and how she makes it hard to him be faithful? How can we blame something as selfish as infidelity on someone else? I have been thinking of the subject of 'cheating' for a while now, not because I'm doing it, but lately it's everywhere I look. Started watching a show called "What about Brian" and everyone is kissing or sleeping with someone they shouldn't be. If it's one of my greatest fears then why does it entertain me? What am I getting from it? And, have you seen Six Degrees? Same thing, well, sorta. This really successful and beautiful woman was engaged to a total lying, deceitful, cheating jerk! How do we end up with these guys? Is it our lack of judgment or are we blind to their cunning ways? Do we accept our gut feelings as gospel or chalk it up to paranoia from past experience? Is it the constant and relentless bombardment that makes us think this way or is it our insecurity? Can it be both?

I wonder...

Do you ever feel disconnected?

How do you feel love?

What entices you to try new things?

Are you judgmental?

Do you expect too much?

Do I?

Can you keep a secret?

Are you pro-choice?

Who did you vote for?

How do you give back to your world?

Is that important to you?

Are you honest with yourself?

What inspires you?

Why do you fear what you fear?

Can I trust you?

Should I?

How do you reconnect?

Are you curious about who I am?

What drives you?

Are you diligently seeking what feeds your soul?

Are you gentle with yourself?

Will you be wreckless with me?

How do you handle critism?

Can we just be?

Do you care about what I say?

And how I feel?

And what I love?

And who I love?

Do you respect me?

Will you teach me how to let go?

Are you still learning?

Are you scared?

I am.

Why I love Dilbert...

Courtesy of my daily subscription to www.comics.com