Surviving Christmas

Christmas is a great time for getting together with people you haven't seen since last year and playing catch up in 10 minutes or less. The amount of food hasn't changed at my parents place even though the guest list has dwindled through the years. My mother still makes enough food for a small army and I still get to take most of it home (yum!).

This year felt different though. The past year has been very difficult for me and even though I have managed to get through most of it relatively unscathed, there are patches that are still quite raw. Being around my flawed family made me feel better about it all perhaps because I saw them in a completely different light this year. I recognise the need to be loved and the need to love, and I also understand that sometimes those two things are placed in the wrong recipient's hands. Watching my mother and my stepfather interact reminded me that everyone is flawed, and that sometimes the reason why you love someone is because of their flaws.

It's true that you cannot choose who you fall in love with. You can however choose what to do with that love: either help them build a life with you or let them walk away because it looks too difficult and you might possibly get hurt. It's pretty obvious what I chose when faced with that decision. When I think back to my previous relationships and how much of myself I gave in order to keep that person around I'm thankful that now I don't have to do that. He's with me because he loves me and not out of guilt or anything else. We've had our share of tough times and we've built an even stronger relationship with each other because of those tough times.

Like I said, this year wasn't the greatest to begin with. But like all things that ebb and flow, tides are changing and I'm doing well. After a while, the things that still bother me won't anymore because I will have other more important things to take care of and I just won't have time to long for times that have passed. I am still sad, but that too will pass. Life is a ever-changing event, and I am looking forward to the coming year in so many ways.

Christmas Reflections

Maybe this isn't the best time to be reflecting but I can't help it. Something about the snow and wind make me want to reflect on the past year and how terrible it started. Thinking about things like that make me feel better about where I am right now: surrounded by people who love me and care for me and cutting all those who don't out of my life to some degree.

Of ocurse, you can't always cut people out entirely. There is always overlap in every circle, and this is no different. Just because I no longer speak to someone doesn't mean I don't know what she's up to. In fact, I probably know more about her now than I did before. People may say they don't choose sides but somewhere down the road they always do.

What upsets me the most is that people talk around you but not to you. I think of how much of this high-school bullshit could have been avoided if two people had actually sat down and talked like reasonable adults. I don't care about the terrible things that are being said about me; I look at who it's coming from and I understand that that person is upset about something that has nothing to do with me. Sucks that I get burned for it but what are you going to do? I figure that in this case it was just a matter of time before something came up to make this person want to get rid of me. Don't know why she didn't just tell me to go away; that would have hurt also but at least she would have been honest with me instead of doing all this bullshit that she's doing now. Like I wouldn't find out. I always find out.

I think the most hurtful part of this is that she's been getting a mutual friend to check up on me and report back to her. I know she's been doing this ever since this whole thing started; I'm not stupid and the questions I get asked over coffee are pointed. Each time I have to steel myself for the usual barrage of meaningless banter before we get down to the nitty-gritty: which always includes this person trying to get me to say something terrible about the one who no longer speaks to me. I never do; not that I don't have nasty things to say about her. I just don't share them. I wonder though, does she know that this person is a double agent? And why do I go for coffee knowing that this is happening? Because I miss her, and hearing about what she's up to through another person is almost as good as being there. I could do without the play-by-play on how much she hates me though.

One last thought: if someone you call a friend is so willing to backstab someone for you, why wouldn't they do the same to you? What makes you so special? Bubble-bursting time: you aren't. People are telling me everything you are saying about me. Not just the one person who keeps tabs on me, but a whole lot of people that you call friends. Just remember that.

Oh, and Merry Christmas.

Back From the Dead

Apparently, I look like Morticia Addams. I've been off work for a week trying to recouperate from a vicious chest infection and today is my first full day back. I'm completely and utterly exhausted from trying to catch up and I can't focus on my work because the damn phone won't stop ringing. I still have a slight fever, and every now and again I get chills. Maybe I should have stayed home today.

There is so much work that needs to be done before the holidays though, I can't just stay home. No one can do the job that I do; that's why I was hired. Great for the ego, terrible for being sick. I'll just have to do my best and trudge through. Only three more hours and I'm free...

On the bright side, I got my first Christmas tree yesterday. I clearly do not know how to decorate a Christmas tree though, because it looks like a group of Care Bears came into my house, put multi-colored lights on it and then, in a fit of misplaced inspiration, threw up on it. The only redeeming thing about the tree (and Iwish I had been smart enough to take a picture of the tree; you'll have to make do with a picture of him instead) is C-3PO at the top instead of a star. No joke.

Seriously though, I just want to go home and go back to bed. It's snowing right now and although it looks very pretty, it makes me want to curl up in my flannel sheets and sleep until June. Possibly July.

It's Come To This

I give up. Completely and utterly give up. There's no more I can do to make this work and nothing more I can make happen to my satisfaction so I'm walking away. Not my usual thing to do. Normally I would stand and fight and push and scream and cry and do all those things until I get some kind of resolution but as time passes I see that it just won't happen. And I am so goddamned tired of fighting it.

I'm letting it go and I'm miserable about it but in the other hand I am also resigned because I see now that there isn't anything more I can do. The decision about this has long been out of my hands and it's taken me this long to see that. 

No apologies, no explanations. 

Thankfully, there will always be coffee.

One thing I have always disliked about blogs is that people read them and then give you shit because of what you've written. They seem to forget that it's not their blog they are reading, it's yours. As a writer, I am constantly reminded of the fact that words can be twisted around for purposes other then what they were intended for. This awareness has lead to self-censoring, as I have no wish to be harassed for what I write any more than I already am. The fact that I am made to feel like I have to censor my words in order to ensure no-one's feelings are hurt sucks. The kicker is that the complaints normally come from those who have also posted similar rants on their blogs concerning self-censorship. I say fuck it. This is my blog and if you don't like, don't read. Nobody typed in this address and forced you to read it so why the hell are you complaining? Nevermind, I know why.

There are so many things that I want to say just to get them out of my head but I don't think it will do any good. She still won't pick up the phone and call me to discuss this ridiculous misunderstanding and getting angry and bitching about it won't do any good. It pains me to think that we will never be friends again because of someone feeding her incorrect information but that's life. Curious though that this is precisely what her ex did to her that she hated; they broke up and she disagreed with the breakup and wanted to talk about it but he refused to speak to her or see her. I guess now she needs to transfer all that negativity to me since she's been carrying it around with her since then and I'm the perfect target for it. Best friends indeed.

The trouble with situations such as these is that they never truly get resolved. She is far too stubborn to ever call me and I am far too respectful of her space to make her talk to me. I just wish she would stop talking about it with everyone else except me, because the amount of emails I am receiving from people telling me what's going on at her end is staggering.  I would have thought that she'd be a bit smarter about this and keep it to herself since she refuses to actually deal with the situation but apparently not. I think that might be worse than her not talking to me: hearing from everyone else what's coming out of her mouth about me. I never thought that would happen but then again I never thought we'd be in this kind of an argument either so I guess that proved just how little I truly know.

This past week has given me a lot to think about. It's coming up to the end of the year and I usually get thoughtful around now. Thinking of the past year and how horrible most of it was leaves me feeling that the future must surely be better. There are a few things gone from my life that I see now were not good for me. With those things omitted and the great place I am in now it feels like there is a lot still for me to do and hopefully I can finally get some of it done. 

I guess sometimes no matter how hard you try you cannot make people act the way you would in a situation. I'm fine with letting this go simply because I've done my crying, I've done my 'what-iffing' and now I can move forward. I thought that I would need closure with this but since it doesn't seem to be forthcoming I will move on without it. Funny though, I didn't intend to write about this but each time I tried to change topics it somehow always came back to this so I just let it happen. And so it goes.

Interestingly Enough, It Doesn't Matter

This time last year, I was getting ready to be married. I was at my mother-in-law-to-be's house with my best friend and bridesmaid and we were nervously getting ready; putting on makeup, adjusting our newly done hair. We opened a bottle of wine and as we toasted I pretended that I knew what I was doing and they pretended they didn't notice. There was a moment though while my best friend was lacing me into my gown where our eyes met in the mirror. She stopped lacing and just looked at me and in that moment I knew that no matter what was going to happen with my marriage, my career, or anything that she would always be there for me.

A lot can happen in a year.

This year finds me mourning for things lost; both tangible and not. I need to mourn in order to move on and live life that way I want to. Today I am maudlin. Tomorrow will be better, and as the days speed up and move along I have no fear that they will find me in exactly the place I want to be. I may not know where that place is but it doesn't matter. What matters is that I am strong enough to allow myself to mourn and rebuild in order to ensure that the remainder of my life is worthwhile. I have a lot of things I need to do and I refuse to let old things trap me into leading a lifestyle I no longer wish to participate in.

Here's The Thing...

I have had many good things happen to me over the course of my life and each time they occur I wait anxiously for the preverbial other shoe to drop. This time is no exception. I am still haunting my email, constantly checking my voice mail and waiting for things to go horribly wrong because let's face it, that Murphy's Law. So far though, it appears as though I am wrong. Hmm. Let's explore that.

Being wrong is a funny thing. It takes immense courage to admit that you've made a mistake and to go back to the offended party(ies) to 'fess up. Most people simply walk away without a second thought of actually trying to resolve things and that's completely their choice. I heartily endorse doing things that are best for you and forgetting about the rest of the world because we are all selfish creatures who only want what's best for ourselves and cannot stand to see others get ahead, whether it be in business or love. The problem with this however is that sooner or later something will happen that will cause you to think again. Unfortunately, once that has occurred it's often too late.

Being able to sit down and openly communicate with others is a task that I am not good at but have tried very hard to change. I recognize when I need time to regroup and completely understand when others ask the same of me. I respect their decision to keep their distance, although that is difficult when you share the same roof. What is confusing however is when they don't come back to discuss things and just leave me hanging and waiting.

I realize that people are busy. One of the things that has been hammered into me repeatedly by different people though is the respect one must show to their peers in terms of time. I cannot expect someone to wait for me if I am running late and don't tell them. It is disrespectful, no matter what my personal feelings for that person are, to expect people to wait for me when I have not communicated my timeline to them. If I let them know that I will be late, then it is up to that person to decide how long they will choose to wait for me. I am in no position to dictate to them how long they should wait, and cannot justifiably be angry if they don't.

All of this should be common sense but the funny thing about that is that it isn't all that common. I am currently engaged in a serious misunderstanding that I do not think will be resolved despite my desire to rectify it. I have offered an olive branch and have been denied, and out of respect I have kept my distance. How long do I wait?

And Now I Feel Better

Today I decided to do a bit of sleuthing to try and figure out a couple of things and discovered something that has made me feel better about where I am in this world. No more am I going to whine and bitch and moan about how hard it is to get ahead and how difficult it is to get people to notice me. Not after this.

I go through periods where I feel as though the entire world is against me. That's not a huge revelation. What is a huge revelation is what I have just realized after doing a bit of digging. I cannot believe it took me this long when it was right in front of me the whole time...

Too bad I can't tell you what it is.

Wearing a Fedora Like JT Makes You Less Creepy

You know when you're on the subway and you're tired everything seems to be a bit surreal? Things happen on the subway all the time and usually I just brush them off and go about my business. Last night though, on my way home from work, something really odd happened and at first I thought I had dreamed it. It wasn't until I checked my purse and found tangible proof that I realized it had happened. Then I burst out laughing all over again.

I got off the subway at my usual stop and was walking towards the stairs when I noticed a well-dressed young man in a fedora walking towards me. I noticed him because he reminded me of Justin Timberlake; tall and lanky, looked like a great dancer, that kind of guy. Plus, the fedora. Anyway, he's walking towards me and as I pass him, he tips his hat to me. I was surprised, but kind of touched as he did that. A true gentleman will tip his hat when he passes a lady, and clearly this guy has seen some movies...or something. I nod back and continue on my way. I thought that was the end of it until I heard a voice behind me call out, " Excuse me, miss."

I kept walking as I was not interested in having any kind of conversation with some strange guy who should have creeped me out but didn't because of his resemblence to JT. He came up behind me and touched me on the shoulder. I turned around, getting a bit annoyed, and just looked at him. He then launched into a soliloquy about how beautiful I am, how elegantly dressed I am and then drops an unexpected bomb on me. He said that he would be honored if I would allow him to be my lover.

I am not kidding. He said those words to me. Stunned, I shook my head and told him that although I was very flattered, I was married and that would not be possible. He frowned a bit, then said that being married wasn't a problem and that it didn't matter. I replied that it mattered to me, and turned to go. As I did, he pressed his card into my hand. I looked down at it and as I walked away he said that if I ever changed my mind I could contact him. Sure enough on the front of the card was his complete contact information. I was about halfway up the stairs when I heard him call after me to flip the card over. I did, and burst out laughing. I spun around and as he was still at the bottom of the stairs, called down to him that he must be good if he's certified.

The back of his card read that he is a certified graduate of a sexual guru program.

The biggest issue surrounding this is why was it okay for him to approach me when clearly he was after the same thing that most men are after when they try and talk to you in the subway? For me, it was the fact that he was polite and had manners. Most guys don't understand that when you deal with women, especially women you don't know, the best thing to do is to be polite and know when to make your exit. This guy spoke to me, made his point, bantered and then let me go about my business. That's how you do it.

Oh, and get a fedora.

So Very Tired

This weekend was hands-down one of the toughest ever. I was to go to my mother's, like I always have almost every Thanksgiving since I left home, but at the last minute she cancelled it. Why? Because my step-father claimed she hadn't 'asked permission'.

I already do not understand relationships to begin with, and to see things like that happen between two people who claim to love each other just baffles me further. I understand that we each have our own path that we must tread and only we can take responsibility for what we do but I didn't have Thanksgiving dinner with my mother. For the first time in about 10 years, I was not there because he does not like me and goes out of his way to make sure that I do not feel welcome or loved by him. I know he isn't my father and that there is no conceivable reason for me to want to be loved by this man, but he is the only father I have known. The only father I have had in my life and he hates me.  Why do I keep trying so hard?

I'll tell you why. I have abandonment issues surrounding people who are close to me. I have tried very hard to put my faith in those who say that they love me and will always stick by me. I also try very hard to remember that when they do not stick by me, it's because they are dealing with their own issues and need time to do so. Sometimes that works, other times I feel as though everyone is out to get me.

I have a lot more faith and trust in people than I used to, despite all the bullshit people put me through. I chalk that up to their own weakness, and nothing that I have done. It's far easier to walk away from something than to turn and face it. I am upset that I missed seeing my mother this weekend, but I understand that she could not open her doors to me while he is being difficult. That does not stop the fact that I am sad and angry and want very much to phone my step-father and tell him what a douche he is; not only for treating my mother like that but also for denying me my mother's presence on a very important day.

Guess I have to try a bit harder to understand my mother's reasons for complying.

TV Can Suck My Balls

I work very hard every day. Most days I can't leave my office until after 5pm because I'm wrapping up a task that needs to be finished before my OCD will allow me to leave for the day. I come home, make dinner, do some writing and then go to bed. Not exactly an exciting existence, but one that works for me. I hardly ever watch tv as I find it too distracting when I'm trying to complete a story or whatever I happen to working on. Tonight though I thought I would see what's on the tube and boy was I ever disappointed. 

Why do I have cable? Why do I pay for HD digital stuff when there's nothing on? I keep hearing about all these great shows but you know what? They aren't on when I'm available and I refuse to be a slave to PVR. I spent my night online, surfing sites and gathering information for a book I'm writing. Fuck you, tv. I have the internet, and as long as I have that I don't need you and your plethora of commercials for useless items that you try and make me buy.

Although my cable is provided by the same people who give me the internet...

Crap.

So Much Baggage

One thing I would like, if I were granted three wishes, would be to be able to leave my baggage behind and enjoy my life. I'm finding this difficult, and I fear that I might be sabotaging something fantastic in my life all because I am stubborn and cannot let go of things that have happened in the past that I cannot change.

I ruined a great night last night because of my inability to see that things that were should be left in the past. Close the door, write 'The End' on that chapter and move forward. Looking back does nothing except remind you of painful experiences that should be dealt with and then put away. Kind of like laundry, but with sharper edges. Oh, and laundry doesn't make me weep into my pillow alone and uncomforted because I've driven my wonderful partner onto the couch with my ridiculousness.

I'm thinking it might be time to revisit some of this. Obviously I still have a lot to deal with and it is completely unfair of me to think that just because I say I have dealt with my marriage breaking up and my painful childhood doesn't make it true. I have spent a lot of time trying to convince myself that everything is okay when clearly it isn't. I have a good life with someone who loves me and is trying so hard to help me and all I want to do is make him leave so I can say I was right in believing that I don't deserve to be happy.

I am at my wit's end. This cannot continue and I don't know what to do to make myself stop making all the good things in my life disappear.

Perfect 10

Today I decided to try something new. I saw that I needed to dye my hair but I have been becoming increasingly more frustrated with the damage being done to my hair each time I do it. I have been trying to grow my hair and I've been doing a good job at taking care of it and resisting the ever-growing urge to cut it all off, but after each session with the bottle of dye, my hair feels dry. So I got a bright idea.

I've been seeing these commercials for Clairol's Perfect 10 and thought maybe I'd try it out. After all, a hair dye that will dye my hair uniformly and evenly while leaving my hair soft and shiny? All in 10 minutes? Sounded to good to be true. 

I pulled the bottles out of the package and studied them. Simple enough to use, after all it's not like I've never done this before. What confused me was the weird attachment that came with it: sort of a comb-like thing that is supposed to draw colour through the lengths of your hair. I threw that out. I attached the normal application tip and mixed the colour with the developer. It took me a few minutes to apply it, because like I've mentioned before I've been doing this for years, and I set the timer. The first thing I noticed was the mixture was a little thinner than I'm used to, but it didn't smell as bad as some of the other brands I've used. Once I set the timer, I went back into the bathroom and used a baby-wipe to clean up my hair line and by the time that was done it was time to rinse my hair.

I noticed that my hair was a lot more dry and coarse when I finished rinsing it. Not happy about that. I added the conditioner that the box of hair dye provided and left it on for about five minutes. Once I rinsed it off and towel dried my hair, it became apparent that my hair would not be softer even though the dye was only on my hair for 10 minutes. No magic in the box at all. Although I am happy with the colour and the lack of staining (dyeing your hair black for years teaches you all about staining and using old towels for washing your hair), the ends of my hair are still dry.

Bottom line is this: although the dye didn't stay on for the normal 30 minutes that other dyes do, it still didn't make my hair soft. I guess what I want is perfect hair. I paid for perfect 10 and got a mediocre 6. Next time I'm going to Aveda.

Hmmm. Maybe He's Got A Point After All.

This weekend was very upsetting and difficult for me. I was terrified to do something that I have been looking forward to because there was a chance I would run into someone I didn't want to see. I was told by someone very dear to me that I was being an asshole and that I should not allow someone else to dictate my actions to me. I was very angry that he said this to me as it made me feel as though he thought I was weak. Well, guess what? I was.

As I sulked on my couch knowing that I was missing out on something that I have been dying to go to, he shrugged his shoulders and said that he would wait while I got ready. I snapped that I wasn't going, and he asked me why. I started to tell him the whole dramatic episode and he brushed me off. Not that he didn't think that my feelings were valid, he just couldn't see the point of allowing others to tell me where I can and cannot go. Then he reminded me of his ex-girlfriend who refused to go anywhere with him for fear of running into people she didn't want to see. That got me thinking.

How many times have I stopped at the threshold of a place knowing that there might be someone inside I didn't want to see? How many times did I still go in? Not many. That made me sad at first, then a bit angry with myself for allowing this to happen for so long. That being said, I jumped in the shower and went and had a blast. Of course then I ruined the day by going to see 'Death Race' but whatever.

I guess I learned something. I stopped going to the gym because a girl I no longer speak to works out there. When I actually sat down and thought about it, it seems absolutely ridiculous to not go places on the slim chance that someone I don't care to associate with might be there. I think the most astonishing thing though is the fact that a man gave me good advice. And I took it. Weird.

My Nemesis Returns

I have always tried to get along with people. I know that might be hard to believe, but it's true. I don't like conflict, I don't like fighting, and I have a heard time with confrontations. Every time a situation arises where I have to confront someone, my breathing shortens, my throat tightens and my eyes fill with tears at the thought of the possibility of a fight. Of course, my ex would probably disagree with that, as I'm sure it seemed to him that all I wanted to do was fight. Be that as it may, the idea of fighting paralyzes me. So when I found out today that my old nemesis from 3 years ago is back in town, I froze. 

I love comics. I always have, and probably always will. My dream job at the comic book store was just that: a dream come true. I was surrounded by the things I love in an environment that encouraged me to be creative. I wrote my first comic book there and was supported by everyone I worked with, including the owner of the store. I worked well with everyone there, I thought, and we had really great times as a team. Then, I found out that one of my closest friends there actually couldn't stand me and was just pretending.

The details aren't important because over time they become skewed and a little exaggerated. Let's just say that I found out this person was saying terrible things about me. At one point, the owner confronted me over something this other person had said  and when I demanded that the three of sit down, the other person denied everything. The owner looked at him and reminded this person that he had been told this by that person, and he just shrugged and said that the owner has misunderstood. 

It was at that point that I realized things were not going to get better and it was time to move on. I quit because of things that were being said about me and because every time I tried to do something positive for the store, it was blocked by my nemesis. There was nobody to take my side and help me get my point across as my only ally in the store had already quit because of the same kind of situation. It took me almost 2 years to be able to go back into the store without having panic attacks, and that was only after I found out that my nemesis had moved to another province. I had finally reached a point where I could go in and spend money without looking over my shoulder and I find out he's back.

What do I do? I am supposed to go to a convention tomorrow and he'll be there. I know exactly what's going to happen, too. Let me illustrate: he'll see me and throw open his arms to hug me and do the usual bill and coo over how long it's been and what have I been up to, and he's heard that I got married and how's that going, and so on. And I will be forced to play nice because people know the situation and will be watching to see what I do.

This will be good times. Guaranteed.

Bad Decision # 34,164,967,937

Last night I had a brilliant idea. I thought to myself as I finished eating dinner that instead of painting the rest of the kitchen (which I really didn't want to do because I had run out of wine), I would actually sit down and finish writing one of the short stories I've had knocking around in my head. I sat down with my laptop and began to work. I was doing really well until I get my other bright idea: to make a pot of coffee.

I have been cutting back on caffeine lately because I have noticed that despite my saying otherwise, it actually does interfere with my sleep patterns. Since I already have difficulty sleeping, it seemed like a bit of a no-brainer to cut back until I am off it completely. I don't really drink pop so that isn't a problem; just coffee. So as I'm working away, I notice that C is on line and we start chatting.

Next thing I know I'm on my third cup of coffee from the second pot that just magically appeared and my left eye is twitching. I'm not saying it's her fault, I'm just saying she was there. When I finally ended the conversation four hours later and tried to go to sleep, my eyes kept jerking around and I fidgeted so badly that I finally had to get up and walk around. There is no cure for a caffeine overdose except time and water. I drank about three 500 mL bottles of water so that when I finally did get to sleep, I had to get up and go to the bathroom.

Lesson learned. No more chatting through gmail. Next time, I will use facebook.

The Battle Within

I have always known that there is something a little off about my character. Anyone that knows me knows that also, and most of the time I can balance between sort of normal and downright ridiculous. Except for last night.

I have decided to paint the kitchen blue. Not a bright robin's egg blue, but a more of a steel-gray blue. If I were a romance novelist I would call it ' a deep, dangerous blue that reminded her her of the raging sea, tinged with a shade of gray that matched the steeliness of his character'. Or something. Anyhow, the kitchen is weirdly shaped with cupboards that begin a foot above the counters and end halfway up the wall, leaving a strange strip at the top between cupboard and ceiling. A strip that is, as I found out, very difficult to paint while balancing on a ladder and clinging to the side of the cabinets. So I did what any woman in my situation would do: poured myself a glass of wine and wait it out.

After moving all my StarWars toys out of the way so that I could get to the weird strip, I realized I hadn't had dinner yet. 9pm. Hmm. What to do. Oh, look, there's a bottle of wine! Need less to say, as the night progressed I grew more relaxed about my painting technique. But not completely...

I managed to wheel the fridge out of the way to paint and that's when it hit me. I am retarded. I could not leave behind the fridge unpainted even though no one would see it. Ever. I consoled myself with the knowledge that at least I would know it is done. Like washing out the garbage can. No one ever notices, they just carry on. Just like the area behind the fidge.

Don't even ask me about behind the stove. Just marvel at my ridiculousness.

Poetry is for Suckers

I accompanied my best friend to a poetry reading this past weekend. This is not something that I would normally do as I cannot stand the pretension that goes along with poetry. I feel like it's the most selfish of all the literary arts and I stand behind my opinion. Whoever writes poetry just wants to be able to tell others that they just don't understand the multi-layering of their words. Or they are just plain rude.

I was sitting at a table with Carolina listening to the first reader who, although it was still poetry, was interesting with his choice of words. I was enjoying myself until this woman came into the venue, glanced around, and then at Carolina's wave, sat at our table. This woman had no respect for the readings which was quite evident from her inability to show up on time. After the reader had finished, she turns to Carolina and introduces herself. They quickly find out that they know each other through the dreaded facebook and begin to chat. She then turns to me and asks if I'm a writer and when I nod my assent, she replies that she finds it hard to believe.True, I was wearing a cthulhu t-shirt and jeans but even still that was just plain bitchy. So I told her I liked her hair. Sarcastically. She excused herself from the table and went to join another. Good riddance.

We sat there and chatted and I went up to the bar to get more drinks and to flirt with the bartender. Not because I wanted to pursue him, but mainly to see if I could actually flirt successfully. Apparently I am still retarded when it comes to dealing with the opposite sex. I'm not sure how or why, but at some point while I was ordering our drinks I seemed to have grown an exra head or perhaps become physically deformed because the look I got while paying for the drinks was very different from the look when I first approached the bar. He had commented on my t-shirt and my opening line was something along the lines of, 'If you like Elder Dark Gods you should come to one of our meetings. They are grossly misunderstood.'

He just stared at me, slid the drinks towards me and took my money wordlessly. He didn't even make eye contact when he passed me my change. In fact, he didn't even hand it to me. Just put it on the bar and pushed in my direction. I left him a tip and slunk back to my seat. Saved by bad poetry as the next reader started and prevented Carolina from asking me how my experiment was going.

Okay, so I guess I do know why I failed. But it made a great story, didn't it? And just for the record, Carolina got his number and when she texted him she found out he's an asshole which has put her in a 'there's no good men left' funk which she refuses to come out of. Guess I'll have to set her up on some dates that will end badly and she can bitch about. After all, that's what best friends are for, right?

Frustration: More than Just a Party Game

I am so frustrated with people. I realize that we all have to share the planet but jeezus. All I ask is that you make an effort to listen to me. That's all. Make the damn effort. Don't just pick out what you want to hear and ignore the rest because you are missing more than half of what I'm trying to say. That's when Frustration rears it's pointy head and tries to coerce Anger into joining it for high tea. Luckily, I managed to dissuade Anger from hanging around too long but she still got in a few good words.

I have a very stressful job and the last thing I want/need is the same situation in my personal life. I have various friends who only call me up when they need something and a few that don't call at all unless they are drunk and need to vent. I have my core group of people that treat me the way I ought to be, and the rest can go to hell. I do not need to fix everything in everybody's life just because I happen to be good at it. What I need is to fix my own life first and then possibly give others a hand.

I am tired of having to walk on eggshells because the people around me are sensitive. I am tired of having to explain that I am joking. I am tired of feeling guilty when I want to yell, and I am tired of being the grownup. What happened to these being my Carlsberg years? What happened to me finishing my book? It seems that as soon as I try and do something that might just possibly be good for me, people try to hold me back. Whether it's in the form of a crisis or someone just being good old fashioned upset with me for whatever reason, it just seems to me that I cannot get anything done. And that needs to change.

I realize that this world is filled to the brim with imperfection and irregularity. I also know that not everyone is like me and can't always understand me and what I need. I have tried my best to tell those around me what it is I need and no one seems to hear me. I guess the next step is to just do what I need to and shut everyone out while I do it and deal with the fallout later.

Ribs, Raises and Sore Abs

Part One

Last weekend Toronto's own gay pride weekend. There was a parade, some beer tents, dancing and stuff that I didn't go to because I was too busy stuffing my face at Ribfest. What, you might be asking yourself, would such a delicate flower as myself be doing at such a redneck event? I just told you: stuffing my face with ribs.

It was unbelievable. As the boy and I parked, I saw where the action was: the corral full of people lining up to sample the wares of the various vendors. The signs advertising the different rib sellers went up as high as four stories with quirky phrases and boastful promises that their ribs would be the best I would ever taste in my life, and everyone displayed their trophies and lauded themselves for every single little award they ever won with their ribs. There were the sexy rib girls in cowboys hats and tiny t-shirts, sweating over the grilling racks as they sang and cut meat in front of drooling men. There were the guys who rang a cowbell every time a customer ordered a full rack of ribs...and that bell never stopped ringing the whole time I was there. I just stood there and smelled the aroma of roasting meat and when I couldn't stand it anymore I selected a line and went to it. The boy and I stood in line for what seemed like forever and all we did was talk about what we were going to eat first. There was something called a vegetarian's nightmare consisting of half a chicken, half rack of ribs and a pulled pork sandwich. Fantastic. We were going to get that but then realized there were at least a dozen other rib places that we felt compelled to eat at so we should just start small.

Once we got our first round of meat, we found a place to sit. The first bite brought tears to my eyes as the meat fell off the bone and melted in my mouth. As I sat there, drunk with rib goodness, my boy went and grabbed me a beer. So there I was, rib in hand, boy at my side and I thought this just can't get any better. Then he came back with more ribs. And beer. And then more ribs. With more beer. And then a funnel cake topped with apples, cinnamon and vanilla ice cream which happens to be my kryptonite. After all this, I found a place to lie down on the grass and watched our friends play with their baby girl. Screw Pride, I thought. This weekend is all about ribs and funnelcake.

Part Two and Three (because I am lazy)

Having recouperated from that, when I went back into work yesterday after the long weekend, which for me lasted five days because my boss is awesome, I had my 3 month review and was granted a hefty raise. Which I completely and totally deserve. So now I have a new title, new responsibilities and a much better salary to go along with it. When I got home, the boy had set up our WiiFit so I could try it out. Let's just say best workout ever. Seriously. I love this thing. I love it so much I worked out for over an hour without realizing it. And that is why today my abs are sore. I am going to do it again though becasue apparently the boy has unlocked some new thing called rhythym boxing that sounds intriguing. And then maybe some ribs.

Board Games are the New Dance Clubs

My guy has a tradition. Every Wednesday night after his show ends, he and a few of his fellow cast members sit backstage and play board games. While I have always been invited, I have never been able to actually go because of my part time job bartending at the strip club. That all changed last night and I'm afraid I may have a board game problem.

We played this game called Eketorp. Check it out and then try to tell me you don't want to quit your job and play this all day. What's so great about this whole gaming experience though is the fact that this particular group of people were all into the game. There were battles left right and centre and no one was upset or angry when they lost a round and had to give up a brick. Well, just that one guy but he's part Viking so I guess that's okay.

Can't wait to see what we play next week. I have heard rumblings of a Twilight Imperium marathon that is making me twitch...

One of the Best Days

This day started out great. I slept in a little bit, was woken up very nicely and then driven to my office job. Once there, I sent in an invoice to a magazine that I freelance at and asked if there was anything they wanted me to do for them. They responded with a very vague sort of description of what they wanted and I said sure. I don't really know music very well and since this is a music based article it would be good for me to cut my teeth and get into that genre. And then I was told what the article is about and pretty much shit myself at my desk.

The article is all about bands that use their fans to make videos and gain exposure through Youtube and other video-based stuff that fans send in. Along with that are a bunch of contests and various other publicity things set up by various marketing geniuses. This was all very intriguing to me as I remember NIN doing something a few years back that involved a track on their cd that was open for editing. Fans were encouraged to fiddle with the track and then send it back to Trent who would select his favourites and then...do something with them. Look, I'm really excited right now and I can't think straight. Shoot me for not getting it all right.

So for this article I have to interview various people, both bands and marketing gurus who thought up all these neat ways for record labels to save money. These people include NIN, The Offspring and Placebo. That's right; you heard me. I have to interview three great bands plus their marketing people for my article.

And I'm being paid for it. All you who said I'd never make it: Eat it.

Demo Days

Took a bit of a trip back into my childhood this weekend. Growing up in a small town means town fairs every summer and with those town fairs come the demolition derby. My father was a mechanic and every year he would build a car from parts of other cars that he'd scrapped. Each year my brother and I would help him put pieces together to form a new car that he would crush in the derby, or as us townies called it: the 'demo'. Each year my brother and I would hang off the iron bars surrounding the sand covered area where the cars would smash into each other and not once did we ever think anything would happen to Dad. He was completely indestrucible, and his winning the demo every year he entered was proof of that.

As I stood there, twenty years later in someone else's hometown watching their town demo, I was struck by just how dangerous it is. Spectators are mere metres away from the cars as the whirl around and spin into each other. I think the close proximity of the beer tent pretty much took care of any uneasiness on the parts of the crowd, though. For myself, I was too busy drinking in the atmosphere of the place; hearing the sounds of the midway, smelling the saltiness of the various meats being cooked at diferent stalls and watching the glee on a little girl's face as she watched her daddy compete in the demo.

I'm not going to lie, it was an emotional weekend for me. I miss my hometown desperately but would never go back simply because of all the horrible memories I have of it. What I long for isn't that particluar place per se; rather, a small town where I can be my own person without having to explain where I've been all these years. Somewhere I can set up my own business and write my books and make a bit of money while avoiding all the bullshit that I am encountering right now. I don't consider it running away, I look at is as making a positive change. After all the crap I have been through lately I am really looking to make some changes in my life.

I have a two year plan that will hopefully see me in the position I want to be in, both professionally and personally. I have good people around me and a partner who loves me the way I need to be loved and all that's missing is...

Well. I'm not quite ready to talk about that yet. Sit tight.

Well, Well, Well...

I do not have time to recap the entirety of the past couple of months. Let's just say that I am in a great place; not only with my career but also with my personal life. Things are exactly the way I have always wanted them but was too scared to take the plunge for.

My new job has the potential to be perhaps the best job I have ever had as long as things pan out the way they are supposed to and one person retires when they say they will. Last night marked the end of my madness as an event that I have been planning since I started three months ago wrapped and I now have time to actually assess the job itself. While there are administrative aspects to it, most of my job is dealing with media-related issues. For example, last night's event was an awards show for a specific group of people within the magazine publishing sector. Not a huge show, but very frantic with trying to get all the people who were to present specific awards up to the podium on time. Not to mention the fact that I don't know any of them, so I had a bit of a challenge on my hands. One person stepped up and tried to help me wrangle these people and it's because of him that I am able to post today. Because otherwise, I would be in a metal institution curled up in a ball in the corner of my room pissing myself.

I am very lucky that I have this job. It encourages me to be creative, and the woman for whom I work has given me opportunities to flex my writing muscles by letting me write copy for press releases and website reports. It might not sound huge, but to me it's everything. Plus I have a very special person in my life who has always been by my side encouraging me where others have not and loving me consistently when I wasn't able to love myself at all. I will not kiss and tell at this point simply because I am going through a very nasty divorce and I know my ex will read this but suffice to say that I am very happy and surrounded by people who love me and encourage me to follow my dreams rather than tell me why I can't achieve them.

And that's all I got right now. Perhaps Monday I will tell you all about a demolition derby...

How Do I Fix This?

My husband and I have taken a bit of a break. I hate doing this to him because I know it's hurting him, but he needs to know that what he has done to me is unacceptable. the beginning of February, he told me to pack my things and go stay with my best friend while he 'thought things through'. This was because while out with the girls, I had forgotten to put my ring back on and there was a picture taken showing that. She (his friend) called him and told him I wasn't wearing my ring the whole time we were out, and that thanks to me, she didn't have to buy a single drink because guys were buying them for us due to me flirting. If he had stopped for a second and thought about it, he would have known that not only is that not behaviour typical of me, but that the ring thing was probably a mistake. he didn't ask me, just told me to get out. I have been harbouring anger and resentment about this ever since it happened. He took what she said and threw me out of my home without even talking to me first.

Because of this, he told me he would never talk to her again. Not once did I ever ask him to stop talking to her; he made that decision on his own. Imagine my surprise then when I find out that not only is he still talking to her, he broke her and her boyfriend up by sending her boyfriend pictures of her from our night out. Pictures that I had originally shown him to prove that she was the one causing so much trouble while we were out. Shameful that I had to prove myself to my own husband. It should be my word that he takes as gospel, not hers. Yet time and again I find myself having to fight and prove that I'm in the right.

I called a time out. I need to decide whether or not to continue this marriage based on how he has treated me. There is obviously so much more that I'm not saying but based on what I've been through I need to figure it out on my own. He needs to understand that I am his wife, and if he's going to side with another woman who has designs on him and has told me that, he might as well be with her and not me. Because I refuse to be second.

Waiting and waiting and waiting...

I hate waiting. Doesn't matter what it's for; buses, subways, people, I just hate waiting for things to happen. Like this new job that hopefully I have. I'm waiting to hear if I do in fact have a new job. And the waiting is killing me.

Being a Sagittarius, I am not used to having to rely on others for anything. And that includes waiting to hear about a job I really want. Not knowing when I want to know is a really difficult thing for me to swallow. I reckon it's why my husband and I are having such a hard time right now. He is completely loving the fact that I have to rely on him for everything right now because I am not working. If I need money for something, I have to ask him for it and he gets to decide whether or not he'll give it to me. I have never been in this position before and I've gotta say, it really sucks.

I contacted the strip club I used to tend bar at to see if I could pick up a couple of shifts. I didn't tell D I was doing it; hopefully it won't cause too much of a hassle. I just can't keep waiting around to see if something is going to happen. I'm going crazy sitting here waiting for an opportunity to present itself. Time to take the bull by the horns.

Noah Failed Me

There was a massive flood in my apartment this weekend. Not an 'oops-there's-a-leak-somewhere-and-now-it's-pooling-under-the-kitchen-sink' flood, because that would be easily contained and cleaned up. This would have made Noah himself cringe.

Friday night my husband spied a small pool of water collecting just outside the kitchen, dangerously near our laptop all snuggled up in its case for the night. At first he thought maybe the dog had had an accident but we quickly figured out that that wasn't the case. Or rather I figured it out when I saw the huge amounts of water gushing from under our kitchen cabinets. Water that soon crept out of the kitchen and snaked its way through our livingroom, down the hallway towards the front door and our bedroom. I grabbed all the towels we own, which considering we just got married 3 months ago is a lot, and built a sort of dam at the kitchen doorway.

Our apartment is just like every other; vinyl tiles in kitchen, bathroom and entrance, wood parquet flooring throughout. Vinyl tiles in kitchen and entrance lifted almost immediately but strangely enough the parquet is fine. I credit my lightening-fast reflexes and awesome problem-solving skills for this. At least we weren't alone: we live on the fifth floor and up on seven a hot water pipe burst on our side of the building causing our flood. That means everyone from seven to ground all experienced various degrees of Noah's predicament. From what we've heard we were the least damaged because we were home and could begin mopping up immediately. I feel so bad for the poor bastard who came home at whatever time to find his whole apartment flooded.

Bad news is that we were without a kitchen for the weekend, as they had to cut through the wall over and under the kitchen sink to replace part of the piping. Good news is we are getting new ceramic tiling in both the kitchen (which includes and awesome backsplash) and the front entrance. And considering that this happened Friday night, everything was fixed and back in place by early afternoon Sunday. Those guys were awesome, and my husband wrote a letter to property management commending both their hard work and their speed. Downside for that though is that I'll have to move the fridge and stove out into the living room while they tile but I'm okay with that. Plus, I get to paint!

If you haven't already noticed, I'm in much better spirits. I credit the absurdity of the flood: we were fighting like we always do about something mundane and then catastrophe hits and we're too busy cleaning and mopping and moving things to continue fighting. Plus, there was enough beer in the fridge for us to celebrate our victory over the flood. Kind of like our version of the dove and olive branch. Now when it looks like there's going to be a fight my new tactic is to laugh it off. He doesn't like it too much because he says it makes him feel stupid and I just look at him, smile and continue laughing.

The Waiting Game

On a whim, my mom (have I mentioned lately how much I love her?) suggested I contact a few public relations offices and put my resume forth. Often, she reasoned, there are plenty of jobs available but not posted because they prefer to spread the work around using the staff they already have. So, I picked five and sent off a new and improved version of my resume.

I have continued going on interviews and sending out my resume and all that sort of thing but I am beginning to feel a little bit down about the whole thing. My husband is loving this whole situation though. Now he gets to be in complete and total control over everything; finances, shopping, everything. I had to ask him for money the other day and he is still holding it over me. We're fighting a lot and it isn't getting easier to hold onto my temper. He just does not understand what I do all day, every day. I'm on the 'net, looking for jobs, sending out my resume, trying to get something to help with the bills so he'll stop complaining about how hard it is to make ends meet. Because clearly, I'm doing this on purpose. When I got sick in December right before my birthday, I was in so much pain that I had to quit. We spoke about it and he agreed that my health was more important than a job, but now all I hear from him is why didn't I try and stick it out a little longer? I told him that if money was that tight I'd go back to the strip club I used to tend bar at to make some extra cash. I think you can pretty much guess what his reaction was to that.

The problem here is that he complains no matter what I do. If I talk about getting a job to help with the bills he says no, you aren't well enough and then turns right back around and tells me how we don't have any money. It's a matter of pride with him. He obviously doesn't make enough to take care of us so I am eventually going to have to go back. I'm depressed, in pain and I feel as if everything I do just makes things worse. He told me the other day that he can't stand my cooking because it upsets his stomach. How do steamed veggies and broiled chicken upset anyone's stomach? Maybe because it isn't Kraft Dinner. I've stopped cooking because every time I do, he complains the next day about his stomach. I give up.

I heard back from one of the PR places I emailed and I went for an interview. As far as I know I have the job, we just have to discuss money. I've already told her what I want, and it will be a lot more than what hubby is making. I'll be able to pay off my debts and still have some to put aside for the inevitable. The job doesn't start until March, but hubby told me we'd be fine until then. Whatever. Just one more month of his shit and then it'll stop because I'll have my own money and I won't have to rely on him anymore. Last time I ever do this; believe somebody when they say they'll help me and take care of me and not to worry about money because it'll be alright. What a farce.

I'm not in a great place right now. I'm angry and can't communicate that to him because all he does is raise his voice and drown me out. Instead of trying to work with me, he's too busy cramming how much he does down my throat. He doesn't want to spend time with me outside of the house because he has to work when he gets home from work. 'Somebody has to bring in money.'

Really great. I love this. I'm having the time of my life right now just sitting and waiting for him to get home so he can tell about all the things I should have done but didn't. I'm going to go cry myself to sleep. Maybe things will be different when I wake up.

Looking Up, But Not in The Way You Think

I went to a job interview today, knowing full well that I would not get the position. I blame my mother for this weird trait of mine: I will purposely do something that I know won't work out just for the experience. Strange, isn't it? Anyway, so I went and the recruitment manager went through my resume with a fine tooth comb, pointing out the areas where I should beef it up and where I should expand on the work I did. After my incredibly informative session with this guy, I went to meet my mother for lunch. Because after I've been shot down and denied a job, I need my mommy.

Things have really changed for my mom and me these days. It's almost as if, now that I'm married she and I can relate in a whole different way. Not sure if I like that yet. I do enjoy bitching to her about the various things my husband does on a daily basis to piss me off, though so I guess there's something there. She listened to me complain about the fact that I don't have a job and that I need one and when I was through she asked me what 'The Plan' was. I blinked. I didn't have a 'Plan', I said. So we sat there at lunch and reviewed my options.

I left lunch with my mom feeling better than I have in the past few weeks. She put everything into perspective for me and didn't let me slip or slide out of owning up to my mistakes. Hindsight is always 20/20, but learning the lesson embedded within the sight is far more beneficial to me. I went home and posted my resume on a job site geared towards writing. That's what I do, I write, and sitting around waiting for someone to notice that I write isn't working so I'm going to have to go out and get it myself.

Trouble with hubby is that he hates his job. His hatred of his job translates into' everything-I-do-as-a-wife-sucks'. Which sucks. I have already told him repeatedly that I feel so useless because I haven't been able to work and he took that to mean that it was okay to transfer all his negativity to me. Apparently, according to him, I can take it. I've been married three months and I'm already thinking about divorcing him and going to live in a house full of cats. Seriously.

Money is, and always will be, the bane of married couples. We fight constantly about it; about what to do with it, where it's going, who contributes more (my personal favourite), etc and yet we can't seem to come to any conclusions other than there isn't enough of it. We need a bigger apartment but he doesn't want to move due to the cost. Nevermind that we live in a junior 1 bedroom (the one nestled right in between a bachelor and a regular 1 bedroom), nevermind that we have an enormous dog, nevermind that my library takes up most of three walls and part of the floor. I told him that if money was an issue, I would go back to bartending at the stripclub.

Eep. Not the correct thing to say to hubby. He told me when we got married that I was never to do that kind of work again. I keep saying that I could do it until we got back on our feet, but...Whatever. It paid most of our bills while I was working there, and I wasn't stripping I was serving .

I just want our marriage to be strong and right now with everything that's happening I don't feel very connected to him at all. I feel like since I'm at home that he feels i should be doing more around the house. What he fails to realize is that while I'm at home, I'm working on my book, sending out resumes, researching companies, doing stuff for my website, etc, etc, etc. I'm not pulling a Peg Bundy here and just sitting on my ass eating bon-bons.

This had better improve. My best friend is already starting to move things around in her place to make room for me.

Still In a Funk

I need to focus on some positive stuff right now as I'm going through a bit of a down period in life. I realize that we all need times like this to reevaluate and get ourselves back on track but it sucks that it seems to happen to me a lot. Because I've been ill, I haven't been working which means my new husband is left holding the bag financially. It's putting a huge strain on our marriage, as he comes from work and I'm on the couch he looks around and sees little things out of place and laundry that should have been done and wonders aloud why it didn't magically get taken care of. Very frustrating for me. I'm trying hard not to complain but when hubby is mean to me because we aren't as affectionate as we used to be (before I got sick) it's very hard to stay positive.

I'm waiting for a call from my best friend who has agreed to go to the gym with me. First time in months, but I really need to get out and start doing things like this. I know it'll hurt but I want to go anyhow because I need to feel something other then the emptiness that's building in my heart.

To Hell and Back Again

Let me first say that I will not try and bring you up to date on what's been happening. I don't have that good of a memory and to be honest, it will probably bore you to tears. Hell, I'm bored of it and it's my life! I've been sick, quit my job, made it through my first married Christmas and for all intents and purposes I seem to be relatively unscathed. Relatively.

I'm bored. Really and truly bored. My husband keeps telling me to start an e-store or redo my online resume but I just can't seem to get motivated. I suspect it might be out of spite. He has a wonderful new opportunity at his company, and I'm left sitting at home with a broken uterus and serious pain that doesn't always let me know when it's going to strike. I can't go too far from home in case I have an attack and need to lie down. 34 years old and I feel like I'm eighty. Fuck.

My husband broke my laptop, my wonderful ibook that has weathered many storms in the 6 or so years that I've owned it. It's in the shop and I have to use his laptop and I'm not happy about it. Even though it's newer and has a bigger screen and is faster. It's just not the same. Sigh.

I guess I'm in a funk. I feel useless because I can't contribute financially to the household and now it looks as though I won't be able to bear children. Failure, complete and utter failure. I don't know what to do with myself. I'm not physically able to do much, and for someone as active as I am that really kills me. I can't go to the gym. I can't go for a walk. So now only do I feel terrible because I'm in pain, I also feel terrible because I've put on weight. Just can't catch a break on any front, can I?

I'm done whining for now. Going back to my funk.