No Brain Cells Were Harmed in the Making of this Post

I saw this funky flickr thingamy over at Maggie's site and thought I'd try here to save me from having to think.

So. Here is a collection of flickr photos that flickrites have said they liked. Hope you like too. (Clicking on the photo will take you to the next one) You can also see them here on flickr.



Edited to add: OK, I had to change the size of it a little so that it would fit. Before it was UGLY, now it's just kind of... not quite the right size....erm, or shape, really, but that's ok, y'all don't mind, right? ; )

Not For The Faint Of Fart. Heart! I Meant Heart!

So Smith is too busy to read here anymore, or at least I assume he is, seeing as he's off training and whatnot and is too busy to call or email. Not that that should matter because we're on a break right? Or should we be? (Except, I think maybe we're broken up. Right?) I'm lost. Anyone else?

(By the way, if you don't watch the tv show Lost, may I take a moment to suggest you get yourself caught up before the new season starts next year? Yeah. You should. Awesome.)

OK, disjointed post anyone?

Anyway, since I'm guessing Smith's not finding much leisure time to access this site anymore I feel free to regale you with stories that involve his butt. Also, to post photos of said butt.



OK, so maybe not as much of a butt-shot as some of you might have been hoping for, but still. Allow me to point out that it's the most appropriate photo I have for the story I'm about to share. Plus, I promised I'd show you the photos of him enthralled with the "coolest slug ever". So, there you go.

The photo also includes a glimpse of one of my "awesome" tarps. Did I mention how in love with my tarps Smith was? He was very much so. Apparently I bought the best tarps ever. I'm just cool that way I guess.

Anyhoo...

When Smith was here visiting a few weeks ago, we did some camping. Now, as a rule, I insist that at least one night of camping involves nothing but junk food. So, after a meal of Kraft Dinner, Corona, strawberries ( they snuck in there somehow), pistachios and sour cream and onion chips, we sat around the campfire and discussed big things. Like, what the heck were we going to do about the fact that we don't live in the same town and may never be able to do so. It was with rather heavy hearts we decided to call it a night when Smith reached his "tired point".

Smith, you see, gets tired and that's it. He gets tired and he needs to go to bed. He falls asleep and that's the end of it. ( Sometimes this is enough to make me want to tie his shoelaces together. I am jealous of those who sleep well, especially when I'm not. ) I didn't expect much conversation from Mister Sleepy-who-was-four-hours-ahead-in-terms-of-time-zones once we'd cleaned up and bedded down for the night. I was surprised, therefore, to hear Smith say "Uh oh", not long after we'd piled under the covers.

"Uh oh what?" I said, turning to him, wondering if he'd forgotten to lock the car or something thereby needing one of us to venture out into the cold. He looked at me and said, rather solemnly,

" I farted."


"And it's a bad one."

(Now, Smith knows, as do all my friends and acquaintances, that I grew up in a house where you do not say the F word. We know sometimes people do this f-a-r-t-i-n-g but we do not refer to it as such and we do not laugh about it or talk about it or do it on purpose. As I've said before, I am a delicate creature, or, at least, I was raised to be so. And, well, tooting in front of people is something I do my best to avoid.)

So I, of course, burst out laughing and did my best 5 year old boy impression "Ewww, SMITH! EWWW. That's disgusting, don't say that, how could you say that? Ewwww gross!"

Smith looked at me.

"No, really. It's really bad. Like, really." The wisdom of our dinner choices was suddenly called into question.

"Well, whatever you do, don't let it out" I declared, knowing full well the wisdom of containing a "stinky one" within the confines of its originating area.

"No" said Smith, " I have to let it out, I can smell it and I'm going to die. It has to equalize"

"Equalize?" I stared at him, my voice starting to rise in panic "What do you mean it has to equalize? No, it has to stay contained. Where it is!"

At which point, the insanity began.

You see, Smith decided not only to lift the covers, but to FAN THEM!

Yes. Fan them. INSIDE A TENT!

He said something about equalizing or equilibrium or dissipating and all I could think was "I do not want to smell Smith's smelly toot! This is not sexy! Also! I do not want to be stuck in a tent with a smelly toot!"

"Stop! Fanning! Fanning will make it worse! I don't want to smell it!" I shout, tears streaming down my face, my sides aching from laughing so hard.

"You don't smell it yet? You're so lucky?" he gasps, continuing to fan.

" No... I don't, and it's going to stay that way, I think I'm safe! Stop fanning already, it's friggin freezing!"

And then it happened. It hit me.

Let me tell you, if it had not been such a cold night, or had I been wearing more than my skivvies, I would have made my escape right then and willingly sacrificed myself to a quick death by the local cougar.

"Why Smith? Why did you fan?" I pleaded. "Why did you make me have to smell that? That's just so wrong! No! Oh Lord, save me, please!" I groaned, my pillow pressed tight against my face.

We lay there for a while, willing IT to go away and we debated the relative merits of "letting it sit safely on HIS side" v/s "the need for it to be let out and lessened" and I kept that pillow pressed against my face for a long long time, convulsing periodically in laughter.

Smith, eventually, fell asleep. ( Or, maybe he passed out, that's possible too)

I, however, did not. I was like a pre-teen girl at her first sleepover. Every few minutes, just when I thought I'd calmed down, I would burst into giggles again.

It was, in that moment, the funniest thing that had ever happened to me.

I'm kind of glad now that IT happened just then. It gave us something to laugh at. And, if you'd been there I think you would have laughed too. (Had you not passed out.) It gave us some adversity to survive together.

No, really. I have a brother. I know stinks. This was. Beyond. This could have taken down evil dictators in a single sniff. We survived it. Together.

Shudder.

So there. When they next go searching for WMDs? You can all point to the above picture.

Smith's bottom has the potential to cause uncontrollable laughter and cause widespread panic and destruction. All in one... smell swoop. Er. I meant fell.



PS. If you're wondering, I did, indeed, write this post before this one. It's the roller coaster you see. One minute waaaaaay up! The next minute? This.

Hrm

Well, that's bizarre.

If I look at my site on Safari, half of my last post doesn't show up.

If I look at my site on Firefox, the whole post shows up.

It's probably some html screw up with the embed. (Wow, I can't believe I typed that last sentence. I wonder if it makes sense)

So... I guess I'm going to go do me some 'vestigating!

Moments

When you're going through a tricky time, sometimes all you want is for the moments of calm and clarity to last.

I guess those moments get longer and longer as time goes on.

If you take two steps forward and one step back every day, you're still moving forward, right?

This photo may not look like much, but it's a rather lucky shot.

I was trying to get a non-blurry photo of this cool luminara installation and right when I took this shot someone else took a flash shot of her from closer up.

The result is something I never could have planned and is better than I expected.

Kind of like life, I guess.

Hope you had a good weekend.

You Know What That Means

It's Swiftsure weekend.

And that means the best party in town.

All year I look forward to Swiftsure and the Skipper's party at Ship's Point.

And yes, I am lucky enough to know a Skipper. Therefore, I am lucky enough to get into the party.

(Sorry, no photographic evidence will be provided.)

Come out and see the boats if you're in town.

I'll be the one trying not to fall in the water while holding a drink in each hand on the way back to my buddy's boat.

Maybe this year he won't lose his cell phone in the water.

Just Decide

OK, here goes, rant time. You've been warned.

All I want is to get off the emotional roller-coaster I've put myself on.

And maybe you'll tell me that it really is that simple. Just. Get. Off. Just stop doing whatever it is that's putting you in that situation. And, yes, maybe it is that simple. Maybe I'm not letting it be.

So, here's your chance. Your chance to give me your collective wisdom and advice, because if there's one thing I can't do? It's give myself advice. I never listen to me. Even if I suspect I'm right.

Let me lay it out for you.

I've avoided talking about what's gone on with Smith and I for a few reasons.

One being that it's a bit of a downer and I try to avoid talking about it here, but as it turns out, I'm not talking about it anywhere and am just telling people "it's tough, but I'm fine" when, really, I'm not fine. Unless fine stands for Fucked-up, Insecure, Neurotic and Emotional. Because, if that's the case? Then, hell yeah, I'm F.I.N.E. Damn straight.

Another reason is privacy. I got a carte blanche from Smith to say whatever I wanted about him or us, but I've still tried to keep him and myself as anonymous as possible. Also, once I start talking about what it is he does, it opens up a whole new set of questions I'm not sure I have any answers to and I'm not sure I want to talk about. But, avoiding talking about what he does, when it's one of our major issues isn't helping.

Finally, I'm not sure I have any idea what I'm talking about here. I really feel like I'm free-falling and,damn, it's a sucky feeling. Especially for someone like me whose life is built around the steady and predictable. I like control. I need it. I hate things that are out of my control. Um, hello, welcome to relationships. Especially this one. I know. I'm working on it, the control thing, but it's deeply rooted and it's not going to get fixed in an instant.

So. Let's back up a bit here.

About this time last year I told all my girlfriends I was ready to meet all their single men friends. Or, more realistically, I talked to my one girlfriend I knew actually knew single men in this coupl-ey town. C. told me about this cute guy who still had a girlfriend and another cute guy who was kind of overweight, and then she paused. "Oh!" She said, a glimmer in her eyes. "You should meet Smith."

Smith, it turned out, was one of her husband's best friends. In fact, they had all met on the same day. C. told me that Smith is totally hot and that if things didn't go well with her hubby she'd totally take Smith on as a second husband. "The only problem" she concluded "is that he lives in Montreal or something right now." So we put him on the back burner and went on with our lives.

Fast forward.

It's now summer and C. calls and tells me I *have* to come over to a barbecue at her parents' place. She insists I go, not just to hang out, but because "that hot guy Smith is going to be there". I ask her what he does and she says "oh, he used to steer Navy boats, but now he wants to fly jet fighters or something. But," she says "he's got a Masters, that's how he knows hubby. They were Science geeks together."

"OK." I say, "You're telling me he's hot and he's my age and he's single? What's wrong with him?"

C. goes on to tell me that he married a crazy French chick and they've since split up. No kids. Just a not very nice divorce. (Are they ever?)

So I go to the barbecue and I meet this Smith character. He's cute, definitely and I made a point of sitting down with him. Sure enough, he tells me that he was a Naval reserve officer and that he wants to be a pilot and that he lives in the Maritimes. I don't remember what else we talked about as I see people involved in the military as being "non-dateable." Plus, I'd already told myself I'd never do long distance again, and a two-hour drive this was not.

But he sticks in my head. Possibly something about him attracts me. Possibly C. not letting it drop. "He's coming to Victoria in December" she tells me "He told hubby to 'keep an eye on you' until he got back to town"

"Well, yeah," I said, "but isn't he in the Navy? I don't "do" Navy."

"Nope!" she says "He was just in the reserves. He's got his Masters, he's super smart! He's awesome. He's totally my back up husband. Plus," she giggles, "one of my friends *has* to sleep with Smith, just so I can find out what he's like in bed."

We laugh about it, but I do find myself thinking about this guy. (Great guy, going to move back to town). C. tells me every so often over the next few months that Smith has asked how I'm doing. I keep asking her when he's moving back to Victoria and she keeps saying she doesn't know.

Eventually, he comes to town for a weekend and C. has me over for a couple of drinks in the evening. I get all nervous and dress up all pretty and nothing much happens. I flirt (to the best of my abilities) and go away thinking about him even more.

Time passes.

And then there's the dinner party. Smith and I have been bugging C. and her hubby about each other, or so C. tells me. C. is determined that we meet up. And now her hubby's in on it too. He calls me telling me I HAVE to be at this dinner party. The dinner party that occurs the weekend after I've spent two days hanging out with the funniest co-worker ever. Co-worker with a girlfriend. Co-worker who makes me feel like maybe I'm not ready for a relationship after all. Co-worker I have to admit to myself that I'm interested in.

So, Smith and I have a non-eventful evening as two shy people trying to figure out how on earth to talk to each other. I leave that evening rolling my eyes at C. and telling her that guys are dumb and if they go out the next morning they should call my cell and I'd meet up with them.

C., matchmaker galore, gives my cell number to Smith and tells him that I want him to call me. He does. We go for a date. It lasts late into the evening. There is a connection. I find myself thinking "don't do it" and I ignore the thought. I let myself open up to the possibility of falling for this guy.

He leaves. For the other side of the country.

We start talking. Every day. We send emails to each other at work. All day. And then we talk all night.

I get confused. I start to feel like I'm falling for this guy.

And I start to want to slam on the breaks. This guy is in the military. He's going to be in the Air Force. Wait, he IS in the Air Force? What am I doing? I do not want to be a military wife. Ever. Ever. Ever.

Not only do I have my own personal thoughts about the Forces (and no, don't get into it with me here please) but I do not want to live a life that involves moving. And a husband who may go off for months at a time and possibly get killed. And moving. Anywhere. Whenever they say. Not living in this beautiful town. This town that I've chosen to live in. This town that I fought tooth and nail to get my job in. This town where my heart settled. I don't want to leave. It's my home. Military families move.

This is a deal-breaker for me, the military thing. It always has been, like smoking. I would never date a guy who smokes, and I would never be with a guy who was in the forces. The military. Whatever I'm supposed to call it. I just wouldn't.

Which begs the question; why do I even start?

I think can answer that for you.

C. didn't necessarily tell me he was a military guy. She told me he was a guy with his Masters who was just re-evaluating his life after an unhappy divorce. She told me he was coming back to Victoria. This is who I set him in my mind as.

When I first started getting to know Smith I avoided talking about what he actually did for the first little while. I told him very clearly that I could not date someone in the forces. He told me that he understood that and respected that.

And we just kept on going.

We kept on talking and romancing and I kept on feeling more and more panic settling quietly inside me. What was I doing? Why was I doing this? What the hell was I playing at?

But, damn it feels good when you're first connecting with someone. The day we first went out on a date, he told me that he was going to have to come back out to see me. Soon.

And he did.

And it was glorious.

We tried to talk about "the big picture" and I tried to explain that I wasn't one to up and move, that I wasn't willing to give up my life here in this town for anything, especially not the military life. And somewhere in those first few weeks I heard whispers of "maybe". Maybe he could become a spy like me. Maybe he could get his PhD. Maybe, maybe it'd all be worth it. Maybe I'd mean that much to him. I clung to these whispers as if they were the gospel. I BELIEVED, I hoped, I hung everything on them. If, if, if. If I was the woman of his dreams (like he once believed his ex-wife was) of course he'd quit the military and come to be with me. It'd be amazing. Could you imagine someone loving you that much?

I could.

And we didn't talk about it. We talked about the distance and the difficulty I had with the four hour time difference and we talked about how hard it would be for one of us to move for the other but damn, didn't we want that to happen? Wouldn't it be marvelous when we lived in the same city?

And I knew I was rushing. We talked early about big things. Marriage, future. And I told him I needed to back off, that we couldn't talk about these things, except maybe in whispers.

And we ignored the elephant in the room. Me not wanting to be a military wife. Him not wanting to give up his dream of being a military pilot.

His entire life, this is what he's wanted. And I care for him enough to tell him he has to go for it. That he must chase down this dream, knowing all the while that I'm shooting myself in the foot. Knowing that if I want this relationship, I need him out of the forces. I need him in this town.

Things start to get difficult. Stressful. My life heads into an icky spell. Work is tough, love life is confusing. I'm not sleeping.

Smith comes out to visit again.

It's hard.

We fight. A lot.

I don't know why. Is it because of that damn elephant? Is it because I'm stressed out and not sleeping? Is it because we're not a good match? Is it because he's in my space? Is it because for the first time in my life I have the guts to stand up for myself in a relationship? Is it because I'm not ready for a "real" relationship? What is it? I NEED to know. I need to find out. I need answers. Clarity. Something.

By the time Smith's visit is up, the good times have been outweighed by the bad. For me, it's glaring. Smith is more positive and feels that it's just bad timing and that I'm extra stressed out with work.

I see it as a sign. And I decide I can't take it anymore. I can't do miserable and fighting and I'm not happy.

I tell him I think I want to take a break, to sort through some things.

We finally talk about the elephant and it's made very clear for the first time. Maybe ever.

Smith is two weeks away from starting his training to be a Canadian Forces Pilot. Smith is hoping that if he gets some posting time near Victoria while he's on breaks from training we might grow into such a committed couple that I'll move with him. Be a military wife.

I am hoping that he will choose me over being a pilot. I'm hoping that he picks a career that plants him in Victoria permanently and we can see if we're a good couple when we live in the same damn town. I tell him that I can reconcile myself to marrying someone in the military if that person lives in Victoria with me. Forever. He tells me that he can not promise this. It's not a reality. I ask him to consider it. We start re-hashing old scenarios that I've clung to since the beginning. Could he not do something with the forces that are stationed here? Could he not train as a pilot and then join the Coast Guard, also stationed here? Could he not just be here. With me?

No. He can't promise that. It's not that simple. Plus, this is his dream. He wants to fly planes, not fighters, but planes that are not based in Victoria.

So.

We leave it as "let's see."

And my heart breaks into a bunch of little pieces and I watch him trying to figure out how he's supposed to help me through this.

And he flies away back to the maritimes, where he packs up his stuff and takes off to the training program in Manitoba.

Which is where we are now.

I can not, for the life of me, find any emotional stability. One minute I'm angry at him for wanting me to give up my life for him. The next minute I'm missing him terribly and just wanting him to be here to give me a hug. Before I know it I'm horrified that I ever considered marrying into the military lifestyle and the next minute he sends me the first email in the week since he got there and I'm high as a kite because I'm so happy to hear from him and isn't that a sign that we should be together?

It's awful. I can't be sad and move on because I'm not ready to give up. I can't be calm and in love because I don't want to end up moving out of my town and my comfort zone and my job. Smith is asking that I hold on 'til August. At that point there is a tiny possibility he won't have made it through his training selection at which point it's all off. I know in my heart he'll make it through, so that's not something I'm waiting for. He may also be able to get a posting out this way for a few months between training sessions. (Two years worth of training, by the way, to get your wings) In my mind, this would be the best option, he gets posted out here, we have a few months together to see if we're a good couple or if the fighting continues and we're not meant to be a long-term couple anyway.

But Smith's closed off. In some ways I can't expect any less, I pushed him away and told him I wanted to take a break. But in another way, he's told me he's doing it because he's determined to focus on his training and that's hard for me to hear.

We talked for the first time in a week tonight. I was so thrilled to hear from him, but I didn't know what to say. He's off in his own little world and I can hear it in his voice. He's not there for me and I can feel it. I don't know what to think. I've told him I want to wait til August to see what happens, but I don't know if I can do it if he's going to be so emotionally detached.

I asked him if he'd thought about things since he got there. We'd had a big talk before he left and I'd done nothing but think about things since then. He said "Honestly?" And I answered for him "You haven't."

Maybe that's my answer. He may have thought about me, but he didn't think about us. He says he can't. He says he has to be emotionally selfish and focus on his intense training.

Which leaves me wondering; how am I supposed to do this, long distance for two years, with this emotional distancing, this focus on training for two years, and knowing that at the end of it all I'm supposed to want to move across the country with him?

No. Can't.

But, my counter-argument to everything is that nothing's set in stone. Nothing is set. Maybe I'll decide I hate being a spy and want to become a gardener or librarian somewhere else in Canada. Maybe I'll decide that I'm up for an adventure. Maybe I'll decide I'm madly in love with the characters on Lost and I'm going to stalk them. Maybe he'll decide he doesn't want to be a pilot. Maybe he won't be selected past this round. Maybe he'll fall madly in love with me and move here. Who knows?

I sure don't.

But I need to be OK. I need to be doing better than just coping. I need to get off of this hideous mental and emotional roller coaster.

I'm not good at letting go. I'm not good at waiting and seeing. I'm not good at trusting and having faith. I want to know. I wish I could just decide.

Just decide to either move on and forget about Smith or to wait and see what happens, being happy while I wait.

That's my key. I just want to be happy. Content. At peace.

I thought taking a break would make me happy, I thought it would be a relief. It hasn't been. I've just been sad and lonely. Miserable. I find myself staring at the fridge when I'm supposed to be looking for my toothpaste. I've talked to this guy every day for nearly four months. How else am I supposed to feel?

I can't seem to win. With him I'm anxious and frustrated and scared. Without him I'm sad and miserable and low. Which would you choose? Neither? Yeah, me too.

I've distracted myself plenty for the last couple of weeks. And I've been so up and down I'm surprised I'm still functioning some days.

So. Advise me. Help me. You don't really know it all, but you know the basics of who we are and where we're at. Show me any glaring holes in my logic and listen to me as I argue illogically back at you. Give me some of that objective advice. Tell me to walk away, tell me to stay and believe in love. Tell me to go, tell me to stop. Just tell me. I'm so over flying high one minute and crashing the next. I need some stability. Some consistency.

I just need to decide and stick with it.

In or out.

As my Dad said to me once; "Shit or get off the pot."

Indeed.

But I'm paralysed you see. Fear-filled either way. Being with him is scary as hell, means things may happen I do not want to happen. Being without him is scary too. Lonely. Means being without someone I've grown to care about and have grown close to and have shared a lot of myself with. It means maybe making a mistake. It means having to start again. I don't know if I can.

Fix it, my darlings.

I'm not listening to anyone else's advice. Maybe I'll listen to yours.

I LOVE it!

Lost = Ho. Ly. Cow!

To The Cute Guy In Blue At The Gym

Sorry dude,

I just don't have it in me right now.

I half smiled at you twice and that's about all I've got.

Maybe once I'm feeling a little more flirty we can try it again, ok?

Thanks.

Making Your Life Easier. One Annoying Event At A Time.

So.

Blogger has added this fancy new thing that means It! Saves! Your! Drafts! Automatically!

Wow! Cool, right?

Um. No.

Dear Blogger,

Please explain to me why you just ate my entire post? After you "saved it automatically" AND after I hit "save now" just to be safe?

Where exactly is this so-called-saved post?

And, I'd appreciate it if you'd stop publishing my drafts. I'm not done them yet.

Also, could you please stop messing with my comments? I rarely turn them off and it's kind of annoying when you do.

I liked things better before.

Thanks,
Victoria

You Shouldn't Have!

Hey, guess what day it is today?

It's Victoria Day!

No. Seriously!

I'm not at work, it's a National holiday.

It's All About ME Day!

Wooo hooooo!

Um, Ok.

Dear Victoria,

Please move the slug photo from the top of your page.

It's really grossing some of us out when we come to check in on things.

I mean, seriously, it's not very pretty to look at.

Please give us some eye candy.

It is, after all, the weekend.

Sincerely,

The Internet

Comic Relief

I promised myself when I started this here place that it wasn't going to be somewhere that I got all heavy or sad. Life gets like that and I don't want to put those vibes or energy or whatever it is out there. I like spreading the good stuff when I can.

All this means it's been hard for me lately to post. I'm blue right now and have an awful lot to sort through. Being blue means less funnies for me to share and sometimes that means not much to say here.

Ironically, I have some really funny stories from when Smith was here. Now that I feel like the dagger's no longer sticking directly into my heart (is more just stabbing through my ribs every so often in a gentle sort of stabby way) I thought maybe I could tell you some of the funnies.

I'm unsure whether or not I should get into it here. "It" being what's going/gone on with Smith and I. Part of me thinks it'd help, while part of me thinks it'd just be a drag for people to hear. We'll see.

For now, allow me to just draw your attention to the photo above.

See, as Smith and I were packing up our campsite, I noticed him bent over, dealing with something on the ground. I figured he was getting out a stubborn tent peg or something equally studly and manly. (Um, yes, I left the sticky ones for him.)

After realizing he'd been down there for three or four minutes, I did what any concerned girlfriend (OK, let's not use that word... um....) what any concerned person would do and grabbed my camera. (Those photos later, I promise)

He called me over, all excited.

"Victoria! You've GOT to take a picture of this guy! Seriously, he's so cool."

So, I went over, camera in hand, ready to get a photo of the amazing creature Smith was so enthralled by. I figured it was something beautiful and exotic, or maybe cute like a ladybug.

I should have known better.

At least it was a banana slug and not a banana phone*, right?



*Please. Don't Google "banana phone" I didn't link to it because I love you and I know you value your sanity. But, dude. If you DO Google it because you can't help it and you're kind of self-destructive that way? Well, then you should probably go here too. But don't say I didn't warn you.

Edited to add: Ok, somehow I managed to post this with comments off. Now y'all have to come back and comment.

Humour Me

When I am relaxed and happy and talkative my conversation (and mind) can bounce around a bit. I usually manage to keep up with myself and most people, especially my closest friends have no problem keeping up with my multiple, seemingly un-related trains of thought. I tend to speak quite quickly and am rather animated and often punctuate things with sound effects or purposeful waving of arms. I guess sometimes I forget how my ways might appear to a complete stranger.

My friend and I were walking home from sushi the other night when we stopped at 7-11 for some candy. (Mmmm, candy) I was babbling away to my friend while handing over my candy. I glanced over at the cashier, told him I had a dollar fifty's worth of candy and turned back and asked my friend something unrelated and apparently quite funny. The cashier laughed and said "No, I'm not ADD-OOOH a red ball!"

I thought it was pretty funny, it certainly made me laugh. He wasn't trying to be mean, and it's refreshing to see people who aren't afraid of "political correctness" and offending everyone. I laughed and said "yeah, I guess so, OOOH, shiny!" and we all grinned and went on our way feeling lighter then when we went in.

If you can't make fun of yourself, life just isn't as much fun.

"The Saddest Part of a Broken Heart, Isn't The Ending So Much as the Start."

I love Leslie Feist.

She's a songstress, a poet, a performer. She is so very.

She's full of X factor and spirit and she gets what it means to be.

This is the second time I've seen Feist perform here.

I've talked many times before about how much I love music.

It's hard to describe how much I enjoy music performed live. Especially when it's done well, like it was last night. For that hour or two, I feel alive and I feel like it all makes sense and falls into place.

And every time I go to a show, there's at least one song that resonates with me fully and completely. The show I saw last night was no different.

Leslie Feist can sing.

Leslie Feist can perform.

And Leslie Feist can reach into your heart, look into your soul, and make you feel like you're not the only one out there who's felt the way you do.



Feist - Let it Die

Crystal Clear

I'd give a whole lot for a crystal ball right now.

The ability to see into the future would give me some clarity in a situation that currently has very little.

I'm very very good at second guessing myself. I super-analyze every decision and then once I make a decision I super-analyze it all over again, never fully trusting if it was the right thing to do.

How do you make those big decisions? And, how do you support yourself once you've made them?

If I had that crystal ball, I'd at least be able to congratulate myself on doing the right thing. Or, conversely, beat myself up for doing the wrong thing. Instead, I seem to beat myself up for doing something that may or may not turn out to be the right or wrong thing.

Sure, I *know* things will be ok. Eventually. I just want to know I'm doing what's right. I just want to know how it's all going to turn out.

I guess I'd like to see how my "happily ever after" turns out, you know?

OMG!!!!!!!!LOLPONIES!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Shane in a dress! LOL!


It's my latest distraction.



IN A DRESS!

An Experiment

(Hi, this is me from the future [cool] and this used to be an embedded song, but the site I used doesn't quite exist anymore and there's no way of knowing what song was here, so instead, if you could just imagine you're listening to your favourite song right now that'd be great, thanks! Cuz, well this used to be a song and now it's not.)

Breathing Easier

I got my computer back today.

I actually hugged it in the store when I picked it up.

And then I turned to the guy and asked him if other people did that too... you know, hugged their computers when they got them back.

He just kind of smiled at me.

I'm guessing that's a no.

But still.

It's the little things that keep you happy. Keep you sane.

Things are just a little more comfortable now.

Which is what I need lately.

Some comfort.

Heebie Jeebies

I feel like I just swallowed a hair.

No. That's not a metaphor.

Seriously. Talking about it and thinking about it is making it worse.

Ack.

Distracting Myself

I feel like I'm not allowed to feel bad about my situation right now which kind of makes it harder for me when I *do* feel bad.

I can't help but feel guilty that I'm upset about a relationship when there is so much more going on out there.

It's hard.

But part of me keeps quietly pointing out that I need to let myself feel badly as a natural process. Perhaps it's just a matter of keeping it in perspective. My breakup? Not the end of the world, no, but still difficult and sad in its own way.

Because I'm not really sure what to say here about anything quite yet, I thought I'd write down some of the random thoughts I've had. A way of distracting myself from the realities of what's going on I suppose.

Here goes:

1. I didn't realize how much I rely on the "shortcuts" on my computer. My Safari bookmarks, for example that navigate me to all my favourite blogs and websites. My Widgets that remind me of the email accounts I need to check. It's quite disorienting. Like when someone at the store asks you for your phone number and you realize you can't think of it because you never call it.

2. I like salty things and sweet things. I'm undecided about salty/sweet things.

3. It's sunny and quite windy. This seems backwards. Like it's only allowed to be windy when it's cloudy and wintery. I don't know why.

4. Do reality TV shows always make us like the person who comes in second more? Why do they do that?

5. I'm tired.

6. And hungry.

7. I don't need to make a list of ten items. It just would look better.

8. To who?

9. Should that be "whom"?

10. Ha. Ten.

11. I need a nap.

Perspective

My computer is in the shop.

The team I adore is out of the playoffs.

I will be changing job titles again in a few months.

Smith and I are "taking a break".

Yeah, like how I threw that last one in there?

I was all tears last night and this morning and feeling like I'd never make it through when I got an email back from one of my close friends. She wanted me to know that her sister, who was seven months pregnant, is now, out of nowhere, in the ICU and maybe not going to make it.

Suddenly, I have nothing to complain about.

Really.

How lucky am I to be here with all these ridiculous things to "feel bad" about?

It really gave me some perspective.





Go hug your loved ones and smile and find something funny to do or read or watch. Take a minute out of your day to enjoy being alive.

That's an order.

Or maybe it's just strong advice.

You know, from a single girl.

Er.

Smith says he wouldn't mind it if I could stay off my computer for a few days, so I'm not disappearing off the face of the earth, it just feels like it!

An Interview. Not with a Vampire.

So I thought that since I haven't told you much about Smith, I'd get him to tell you about him. Self.

Wha?

So, here we have a fairly accurate transcript of an interview I had with Smith this weekend. Because, yes... he is here right now on a visit. Which is very cool.

Victoria's Interview with That Guy Link Gravatron Smith The Invincible, Esq.

V: So, hi, Smith. Welcome to my blog.

S: Thank you. It's a pleasure to be here.

V: What can you tell us about yourself?

S: Well, I'm a fairly simple guy with fairly simple aspirations. I come from a nuclear family with three brothers. My father was a school teacher. My mother was a secretary. I grew up in the tiny fishing village of Saint Castille near the Galapagos Islands. (Editor's note: At this point he giggles and I start to believe he is no longer as near to the truth as he might be)

V: Alrighty then. Why don't you tell us what you look like. How would you describe yourself?

S: I'm a six foot one Caucasian male 170lbs (Ed's. note: It's like a personals ad!) with hazel eyes. I won't give you my hair colour because the nature of my work requires me to change it often (Me: He's going to try to convince you he's a super secret spy.. I can tell.) I like turbo engines, squashing bad guys and generally bad-ass spy stuff (Yup, there he goes)

V: OK, I'm not sure that last part has much to do with how you look, but it does bring up the obvious question, what do you do?

S: See above.

V: Is that a no comment?

S: No. See above!

V: So, you're saying you're a spy too? Like me?

S: I cannot deny or confirm that allegation.

V: Can I roll my eyes at you?

S: Yes.

V: OK. Moving on. What's something someone might not know about you just by looking?

S: That I'm a bad ass spy. No, wait. I didn't just say that. Let me get some growlies. I'll be right back. (Smith gets out of bed to grab some almonds. Why he calls them growlies is beyond me. Wait, did I just say he was in bed? I didn't mean that. I meant he got up from the interview chair. Yes, that's it. )

V: No seriously. What's something someone who just met you in the street would be surprised to know.

S: I'm bilingual.

V: Giggle. Are you talking dirty?

S: No, that would be bi-sexual.

V: Nooooo that's not what I meant! (giggles to self again)

V: Let's get back to business. So what do you think about the whole long distance thing?

S: Well, Victoria, (there is a long pause here, and some crunching of growlies) it's definitely... challenging. And not the kind of challenging you get from studying for a difficult math test. It's the kind of challenging where you're like "Damn. This is challenging." (Note: he's doing that thing again where I'm not sure if he's serious. He eats a few more almonds and then starts again.) The hard part is not getting to see each other and be there for each other. There's a whole lot of looking forward to the Someday and sometimes not enough looking at the present.

V: Like Christmas presents?

S: No. The here and now present.

V: I knew that. I was just being silly and cute.

S: Of course you were.

V: And, do you read this site? Is it weird reading about yourself in the third person?

S: No, I actually read about myself in the third person all the time. Although, it's not always on the news.

V: Are you being funny again?

S: I can not confirm or deny that allegation.

V: Sigh. (I consider rolling my eyes again)

V: Well, thanks, Smith. I can't think of anything else to say so, yep. Thanks. Give me a smooch now!

S: (insert almond flavoured smooching noises here)