Not Santa Claus. Not the Easter Bunny!

Guess who's coming to town?

Dreamy Sigh

Look what McGone gone and did!

He's so sad, dreaming of me, poor Dezzy.

I'll rescue you, brother.

Thanks McGone!

Funny Thing, This

There's a funny story about this photo. And seeing as you're reading this right now, you can bet your booties that I'm going to tell you that story. (Wait. Do any of you even have booties?)

Now, the story is very funny to me, but I'm pretty darn sure it won't be that funny to you. You had to be there. (There being in my mind.) Maybe you'll find it mildly amusing. At the very least, it'll give you something to do for the next couple of minutes and that's not so bad, eh?

Ok, so.

I like taking photos of people, but being shy, I basically never take photos of people I don't know. Unless I sneak attack. And then I feel very guilty about it. But I'll often look at people and wish I could get up the courage to ask them if I could just take their photo.

Now, on my trip back from my holiday a few weeks ago (which, I know, I still haven't talked about) I picked up a stomach bug. Er, well. I picked up an "all the places your food likes to travel" bug. Which, really? Isn't fun, as I'm sure you all know.

Because of this bug I had to take a whole lotta medications to keep me going (or...not going, I suppose) and these medications put into my poor little innocent body had me pretty doped up.

Now, I thought I was doing pretty well dopey-wise, and didn't feel more than a little dozy, which I figured was just my body fighting off the germs. Or whatever. I had no idea my perceptions were warping.

As we were waiting in the airport for our flight, I glanced up from my chair and noticed none other than the world's most gorgeous man sitting directly opposite me. I mean, like, *right there*. Close enough to touch, had I been so bold. (And, let me tell you, I very nearly was. This should have been the first sign I wasn't quite myself.)

After I'd stared for a while, doing my best not to drool or draw attention to myself, I turned to my Mom and motioned at her to lean in so I could talk to her privately. "Mom! Have you seen that guy?" (Nodding my head surreptitiously in his direction) Mom turned, looked and turned back. "Isn't he the hottest guy ever? I mean, EVER!?" My Mom looked at me, looked back at the guy, and looked at me again. I'm grinning like a cat with the canary and she just shrugged and said "Sure. I guess"

"You guess? You GUESS? Mom, he's the most gorgeous man I've ever seen in my life. Like, ever! I can't believe he's just sitting there. I've never seen a hotter man ever. Seriously! Ever! How can you stand it?"

Mom looks at him one last time and then leans in says "Victoria? I think it's the drugs talking. He's not *that* good looking."

I scoffed at her and proceeded to figure out how I could get photographic evidence of his superior hotness. I knew I couldn't just ask the Most Gorgeous Guy In the World if I could take his photo, so I got my camera out and began to clean it. Kind of.

I dusted out some sand from the lens cover, and while I pretended I was deleting photos, I took a bunch of highly illegal, paparazzi style, I'm embarrassed to admit, secret photos. Without looking. With my camera sitting on my lap.

Once I'd taken a few, I checked them out and between the photo of the floor, the photo of his feet, the photo of the ceiling and the photo of his guy's chin, this was the best (read: only) photo I managed to get of his face.

Success! I thought. I could share with the world (and y'all, of course) just what the Most Gorgeous Man Ever! looks like. I'd be famous! I'd be rich. And? He'd probably track me down and tell me (in a delightfully foreign accent) how he had fallen in love with me the moment he lay eyes on me in that fake pleather chair and did I mind that he was a prince and would I consider marrying him and would I like this massive diamond ring as a sign of his intentions?

*dreamy sigh*

And then I went home. And I downloaded my photos from my trip and went over them excitedly. I couldn't wait to stare once more at the World's Most Gorgeous Man.

And, well, yes. He is an attractive man. But, I have to admit... my mother may have been right. My extreme adoration may have been partially, if not almost completely hallucinatory. I mean, to be fair, the photo doesn't show him quite the way I remember him. And it probably isn't his best angle.

He really was way more good looking. Like, drool-worthy. Really. It's just a bad photo.

Not that I'm complaining. I still think he's rather dishy. I probably wouldn't kick him out of bed if it came down to it.

Especially after he offered me that ring!

A Story About Jim. Er. The Gym.*

So things are getting better in the sleeping department and I'm thinking it has a lot a lot to do with me getting to the gym after work four out of the past five days. Since exercising has been helpful to me, I thought I'd go ahead and be all Advice-y.

Just over a year ago, I made a list on 43 Things of things that that I wanted to do. Of everything on my list "exercise regularly" was the one I knew I could do something about almost immediately.

Luckily, a co-worker at my office was also wanting to start going to the gym and we talked about going together. We went every few days for a couple of weeks until she got sick and couldn't go. By that time, my body was used to going and wanted to go, so I went by myself. And I haven't stopped. No matter what, I've always gone to the gym at least one day a week for more than a year and I'm very proud of that. But, also, I've seen huge improvements in my health. I'm fitter, obviously, but I'm also a few pounds lighter and much more toned. I haven't had anything more than the sniffles, my stress level has been reduced and my sleep (until recently, when I slacked off a little) has been better. I can't say enough about how much nicer my life has been since I started exercising regularly. I'm so glad I started. And I'm even happier that I continued.

So. Here's my advice for anyone who's wanting to start (and then keep on) exercising regularly.

1. Find a reason to work out.
Try to find a positive reason for getting into exercise. Maybe it's to improve your health or lose some weight or to keep fit. Don't start exercising because you "think you're fat" or because it's "something you should do". For me, honestly, it was to reduce my stress level. If I happened to get arms like Madonna along the way? Well, bonus!
I think it's really important that this is something you want to do, not something you feel forced to do.

2. Be comfortable.
Wear clothes that will allow you to move. Get yourself there in something that doesn't rub or constrict, and get yourself a decent pair of runners. After you're in the habit and going regularly, invest in a good pair of exercise pants and some "real" exercise clothes. You'll probably find the more you workout, the happier you are with showing off your body. I started out in big t-shirts and now am more comfortable, and less sweaty, in sleeveless shirts that are made for working out.
The bottom line? Good shoes and comfortable clothes. It's not a fashion show. The clothes are there to keep you from being naked. The shoes are there to keep you from being injured.

3. Don't compare yourself to anyone.
This is a big one. There will ALWAYS be someone better looking, fitter, skinnier, more muscular, better built, whatever. Do. Not. Compare. Yourself. If you want to compare yourself with someone, take your measurements before you start exercising. Take photos, whatever it takes. Just remember, those incredibly fit people? Those gorgeous, skinny, perfectly perfect looking people? They're not you. Don't wish you were them. Some of them were built that way. Some of them do nothing but work out. Some of them will have been working out for years. Some of them are just lucky. Don't waste your energy, don't let other people get you down. I made the mistake, a couple of years ago, of comparing myself to a friend who was a tri-athlete. (Hi B!) He told me he had no idea how anyone could run inside on a treadmill and I figured he must be right. I tried going for walks outside but it didn't last long. I realized, eventually, that just because it worked for him, didn't mean it had to work for me. That helped. A lot.
Don't compare yourself to anyone but you.

4. Make it easy.
This is all about you enjoying exercising. Maybe you'll go to dance classes, maybe you'll go to a gym, maybe you'll swim, maybe you'll join a running clinic. Find something that works for you. For me, it's going to the gym. Find a time that works for you. I don't do mornings, so for me, after work is the best. I go on my way home from work because if I go home first, my couch calls to me and I rarely make it back out.
Make getting to your exercise as easy as possible. Make it easy to add it to your routine. Make it convenient.

5. Find someone to go with.
This may be a personality thing, but for me, the first few weeks, I needed a partner encouraging me. Honestly, most of the time I only went because I'd already told her I'd go with her. Once I was there, I was glad I did, but come the next day, I wouldn't have taken myself if it hadn't been for "having to" be there. You might not need this, but if you can't seem to make yourself go, find someone to make you go.
It can be helpful to have someone to exercise with, even if only at first while you get into the habit.

6. Make it fun.
You need to like working out! That may mean doing something besides walking on a treadmill, or it may mean walking on a treadmill with an iPod and a trashy magazine. Really. If you're hating working out the first few times, make a change. Find something that makes you enjoy doing it.
If you're not enjoying it, you're not going to keep going.

7. Make yourself a promise.
I made myself a deal early on that, no matter what, I'd go to the gym every Saturday. I knew that reasonably, work and would sometimes get in the way and if I could always have a day set aside for the gym, I'd feel better even if I missed a day or two. And I do. I've gone to the gym sick just to have gone on a Saturday and the pride I feel in having gone to the gym at least once a week for an entire year can't be matched.
Pick a day. Always go. You'll thank yourself.

8. Notice.
Take a minute the first time to go to work out and write down what you did. For example: the first time I went to the gym, I managed five minutes on the elliptical trainer before I had to get off, puffing and sweating. Now I can get through 20 minutes and still breathe! Notice how your body changes for the better as you continue exercising.
Write down what you managed to barely get through the first time. Compare that to what you're getting done in three weeks, three months!

9. Take it easy on yourself.
Don't show up on day one and try to run half an hour. Don't twist an ankle and force yourself to keep going. Don't beat yourself up if you get an injury and have to adjust what you do. Remember, this is supposed to be a positive thing in your life. When you first start out, set reasonable goals for yourself and then lower them. Remember, you're trying to start a habit here and change is slow and gradual.
Be gentle with your body and your psyche.

10. Be proud.
Don't be afraid to show off the awesome changes you see in your body. When we were on holiday, I kept asking my Mom if she wanted to feel my muscles. Being my Mom, she indulged me, but really, I was feeling so proud of what I'd accomplished, it was great. Go ahead and buy a new outfit, tell your friends how often you get to the gym.
Be proud of yourself, you're doing a great thing.




OK. That's more than enough. For anyone who's managed to get to the bottom of this post, hi! I'm not re-reading this post tonight. Maybe tomorrow. Sowwy for any mega typos or poor grammar or whatnot.

* I used to joke with my co-worker that we were both dating the same guy "Jim" when we were talking about going to the gym. It was funny at the time. You probably had to be there.

Wow. This so had nothing to do with being single, eh? Um. Let me add this: Single folks? Tons of hot people to look at at the gym! Not convinced? Read my archives for proof. Hotness everywhere. You could probably even get dates there if you were brave!

Smells Like Team Spirit*

So hockey playoffs have started and I'm loving it. LOVING IT.

The reason I'm loving it, however, may not be as obvious as you'd think. Sure, I love cheering on my team, but it's more than that. (Especially since my jinx this season appears to be thus: They lose every single game I watch. I can't even listen on the radio. *sob*)

See, I don't know what it's like where you live, but right now, cars all over town are starting to sport Canucks flags. It's awesome. There are usually one or two throughout the season, but come playoffs? They start springing up all over the place. It always feels kind of miraculous when it happens. (Same as all the red and white that comes out on Canada Day.) When I was in Vancouver, I even saw a truck with a massive flag attached in its bed. Huge!

When I was younger, I used to love riding the bus and seeing the bus drivers wave at each other. I thought it was so cool. Like, they're saying hi to each other just because they have something in common. When I first saw motorbike riders doing the same wave I thought it was equally cool. I like people finding common ground in something. It's one of the reasons I love going to concerts. All those people enjoying something. Together. We love to love something. We love to support something. And me? I love loving something and looking around and seeing everyone else joining right in.

So now, as I drive around town I feel like I'm in this big huge club. And we're all in it together. I get honks and waves. Kids cheer at my car and yell "GO CANUCKS" when I pass them. Today, on my way home from work, a guy gave me the bus driver wave. Like, "Hi fellow fan. Isn't supporting our team awesome?"

For me it's not about the debates or the stats. It's not about arguing over whose team is better or why my team should win. I've always been a Canucks girl. Had I been born in another province, I'd probably be a fan of that team, but that's not the point. The point is how cool it is to be driving around right now and seeing people supporting something. Taking pride in their support of something. It's like we all want to be a part of it. Almost as if we could WILL them to take the cup if we all cheer hard enough.

I think human beings need this these days. A reason to talk to a stranger. An excuse to make eye contact or start up a conversation. A reason to smile at someone instead of just passing them by. We love to have something in common and it's harder and harder to do that these days. For that reason alone, I love flying a Canucks flag on my car.

Plus, it makes finding where I parked a whole lot easier.

If you're supporting a team in the NHL playoffs, I hope they do well, I really do. They're just not going to do as well as my lovely, adorable, cute, wonderful, Canuckleheads.

So, Go Canucks Go; you're giving us a wonderful excuse to smile at strangers and feel like part of something. You're letting us be a team too. Thank you.

Bring it home, eh?


PS I know that's not a hockey jersey in the photo, but you get the point right? Team spirit and all that? Of course you do, y'all are the cleverest peoples ever. I didn't even really have to tell you, did I?

PPS I supported Liverpool just as heartily when I was in England, by the way. My brother did, ergo so did I.

*I originally titled this post "It Was A Very Good Cheer" because we were heading into game 7 and I didn't want to jinx them by assuming they'd win. Or lose. I'm all about the superstitions.

To Quote The Perishers

I'm having trouble sleeping.

It happens to me every once in a while, but it's been a good long time since I've been this out of it.

I'm one of those "can't fall asleep" people. If it's really bad (like at the hotel for my conference last week) everything will conspire to keep me very much conscious. It will be too hot. Anything I might be wearing will wrap itself around me and bunch. It will be too light. There will be visible light coming from anything. (Clocks are evil and must be covered with books and things) And worst of all? There will be noise. Any noise. Heaven forfend there is another person in the room trying to breathe. So, when it's really bad I'll slip in earplugs and put on eye-covering thingies and have just the right temperature of sheets and blankets. A lot of the time that helps just enough to get me off to sleep.

But it's more than that right now. Right now what happens is this:

Body is utterly exhausted. My brain and I decide this is a sign to turn off the lights and go to sleep. Lights go off. Body sighs happily and eyes close. Time passes. I realize that although my eyes are closed, the fact that I'm *thinking* about the fact that they're closed probably means I'm not really all that asleep. I distract myself with variations of counting sheep. I roll over, taking mental note of the fact that I'm still pretty much conscious and therefore, not sleeping. Which is what I'd like to be doing. Sleeping. Soundly. Not noticing.

But lately? I'm still waking up in the morning feeling like there wasn't much point in bothering to close my eyes in the first place. And it worries me.

It worries me because it's one of those things you can't help but think about but the more you think about it, the more likely it is to become an evil cycle you're perpetuating by thinking about it. So, I'm trying not to worry about it. I'm trying to tell myself it'll just pass and it'll all be just fine.

I'm also working on getting back into the healthier habits I was in before my trip. Cutting back on caffeine and sugar (um, hello? Easter eggs have lots and lots of both). Getting to the gym more than once or twice a week. Trying not to stress about things I have no control over. (Sigh.)

And, yes, I've talked with my doctor and I've read all the books and articles and I've been given a ton of advice and used the things that worked. I think what I need most is to make it through some of the bigger things that are going on right now. And to cope better while I'm getting through them.

So, for starters, I'm off to the gym. Hopefully tonight I'll sleep like a baby.

To Laundry Guy

Hi there.

Now, I know we usually wave and say hi when we see each other in the building and stuff, but, when I'm down there loading my laundry and you're just "passing by"? I'd kind of prefer if you didn't strike up a conversation just then.

Cuz, see, um, well, I don't really want to have to wonder if you're glancing over and seeing my underpants as I'm trying to load them into the machine.

Especially when it's first thing in the morning and I have a hard time being awake at all, never mind trying to keep up my end of a conversation while trying to hide my undies from view.

So, yeah. It's fine to say hi, but let's keep it out of the laundry room, kay?

Thanks.

Back At Cha

Work's got me heading to Vancouver for a few days.

Spy conference.

Top secret.

Pretend I never told you.

Play nice. Go pet a puppy.

See youse when I get back.

I Need to Start Wearing My Glasses More

So I was driving home this evening and pulling out onto the street I saw two older gentlemen standing talking at the end of their driveway, one of them holding the leash to a dog.

Now, I really love dogs so I'll always check them out to see what breed they are. This was a fairly large brown dog, but the shape wasn't recognizable. As I got closer I realized the dog was wearing one of those doggie jackets and that's why I was having trouble recognizing it.

I thought it was quite an interesting jacket because almost looked like the dog was wearing a small saddle. I was fairly sure the dog was a red setter or something maybe just a big larger when I finally drew level with the men and this mystery dog.

And that's when I realized the guy was standing next to his wheelbarrow.

Seriously, Cut it Out!

OK, y'all have to help me out here.

See, I had to buy a new shower curtain liner. My liner was getting a little grungy along the bottom and my sister-in-law told me I could just throw it in the wash and it'd clean right up.

Well, turns out my sister-in-law didn't know that the industrial strength washing machine in my building would, instead of "cleaning it right up", "rip it to shreds" right up.

I tried having a shower without the liner but the resulting puddle on my bathroom floor was fairly massive and I figured I should up and get me a new liner. Which I did.

And this liner, all clean and shiny and new, right? It likes to stick to me. Especially when I'm all happy and warm in the shower. Right when my defenses are down it'll poof out and cling to me, all cold and plasticy. It's kind of creepy. By the end of a shower, I feel like I've been on a really bad date with a very drunk guy, continually having to push him away. It's no good. Ack.

So. Anyone have any ideas how to stop the billowing and clinging? If not, I'll have to stop taking showers or buy a new liner or something.

Best Spam Subject Line Ever!

From: Spammers@spamcentral.com
Subject: Artie said that the pre-interview might help this time because he may or may not be able to talk about the transsexual thing.
Date: April 16, 2007 9:07:44 am PDT (CA)
To: Me@chocolateplease.com


Seriously. Is that not awesome?

Sigh

So I've been having a bit of a rough time lately. The last month or so has been . . . well, 'confusing' is probably the closest I can come to putting a name on it. I'm not great at naming feelings, tending to find things either 'good' or 'bad'. And when things are feeling bad, I tend to hole up. Dig a figurative den for myself and try to hibernate. Usually this works well and my friends know that if I disappear for a week or so it's just me taking some time for myself.

They also know that after a week or two it's time to call me up and shake it out of me, whatever it is.

And that's what I'm trying to do right now. For you, my interweb friends. I'm trying to shake it out and shake it off.

Up until a few months ago, my life was relatively stress-simple. What I mean by that is that my stresses were limited to a few things, usually just work related stuff. The only time I had concerns about relationship stuff was when I was feeling sorry for myself and wishing I had someone to snuggle. Other than that, being single is fairly stress-free, emotionally.

Being involved? Not so simple. Because there's stuff involved in being involved. Thinking, wondering, emotions and feelings, ups, downs, in-betweens. Uncertainties, fears, hopes and all those things you thought you put away from your past that now show up again without actually being invited; oftentimes disguised as something else.

And all of this? Takes energy. Emotional energy. And my job? My work? It drains emotional energy. Super secret spy work is not all fun and games, my friends. It's a day in, day out kind of work that doesn't allow you to go home and leave work behind. You're always thinking about the next mission or the one that didn't go well or you're polishing your spy-gear and making sure you're caught up on the latest bio-warfare. And lots of nights lately haven't included the greatest of sleeps. Work's starting to talk about the possibility of re-structuring and of spies moving to different offices and I'd really just like to curl up for a few months if no one would mind.

And it's a busy time. Not a crazy busy crunch time, yet (OK, I have to pause for an aside here. I've got random music on in the background and I've just had two King Missile songs in a row and I'm feeling a heck of a lot cheerier. Go on.... download Sandbox and try not to smile.) but because it's not, I've taken on a bunch of extra things. I don't know why. Please don't ask. It seemed like a good idea at the time.

But I digress.

So, if we add on to the fact that work has me rather dazed and confused and sleepless, the fact that I've put myself in another long distance relationship, things start to seem a little overwhelming. And the kicker about this particular relationship is that someone's going to have to move. A long way. Which would seem ok, right? But keep in mind the fact that we've spent a grand total of 11 days in each other's company. How is someone supposed to move across the continent after 11 days with someone?

Well, they're not, obviously.

Ok. But. How is someone supposed to continue building a relationship where there is a four hour time difference and a flight costs hundreds and hundreds of dollars and both parties work? Plus? How is this relationship supposed to work when one of the perpetrators is kind of not good at being patient like everyone keeps telling her to be?

Which leads me to my confusion.

I'm not good at being patient and letting things happen and seeing where the flow will take me. Or, at least, I'm really not good at it when it comes to relationships. Really. Not. Good. But I'm also old enough and logical enough to know that neither of us knows the other well enough to pack it all up and move just to see what might happen. Sure, it'd be great if Smith'd do that, but realistically, his career is taking him elsewhere right now and I think he needs to follow that path. Especially since I can't make any promises and I'm not moving.

I just don't know. If he lived here, I still don't think I'd know. And that's good, right? I mean, I'm famous with my friends and loved ones for just rushing into a relationship without really knowing much about the guy and how we get along. When I think back on the fellows I could have married I'm happy things didn't work out in the end. So truthfully, I really don't know if Smith and I will end up together long term and that makes it very hard for me right now. I can not do a long term long distance relationship. It's not as if we started out locally and then he had to move for work. We started out far away. And it's hard. And it's too intense a lot of the time.

One of the things I struggle with is the large time difference. Four hours. That means that when I'm just home from work and settling from my day (you know, taking off the black cat suit and putting away the spy-gear) he's heading to bed. And by the time I feel relaxed and am wanting to pick up the phone and talk, it's 1 or 2 in the morning for him and he's already asleep. Most nights we end up talking between 6 and 8 my time which means he's heading to bed around midnight and getting 6 hours of sleep. And I'm feeling guilty about that. So I find myself either rushing to get home and ignoring the things I'd like to be doing so I can talk to him, or watching the clock to make sure I'm not keeping him up too late. Smith says I can call him anytime and that he takes naps during the day so we can talk later, but as someone who occasionally has sleep problems, I know how bad it can be to mess with your sleep schedule, so I'm not going to call him up at 2 AM just to say hi.

What I want more than anything is for him to live here. For him to have lived here since the beginning. I feel cheated out of a "real" courtship with dates and separate apartments and meeting friends and having time to ourselves. It was great when he was here last month; it was romantic and wonderful and intense but after it was all over I didn't feel what I thought I should. I didn't feel sure. I didn't feel like I knew all the answers. I just felt wary. And confused. And lost. And I wanted to pull away. From all of it. It was all too much with a sense of nothing behind it. It was honest and loving at the time, but almost meaningless once I was separated from it. I got back from my vacation and I had, literally, no recollection of our time together. My mind had somehow dissociated itself from everything I'd felt, as if it knew there wasn't enough background and time behind all the feelings to back it up. It was like my brain remembered all the times I'd rushed into a relationship without really knowing and didn't want me to do that this time. Which, again, perhaps is a healthy thing, but it hasn't felt great. And it was hard to turn around and have to tell Smith that.

To make things worse, I wasn't able to talk about it. Not with friends and especially not with Smith. The poor guy has had to deal with me clamming up and pulling back without being fully capable of telling him why. Without really even being fully conscious of what I was doing. Just knowing things felt wrong and I had to try to fix them. Sometimes I'm not sure why he's still around. (And then I remember that I'm awesome, and for just a moment it seems to make sense.)

Things still aren't great. I'm in a weird place, but I'm trying to move away from it. I'm trying to find a way to talk to Smith about it, and maybe babbling about it here means I'm closer to understanding what is going on in my brain right now. I hope so.

I know I haven't been around here much lately. There's not much worse than having a thousand things to say and sitting down to write them out and nothing comes. It makes it a hundred times worse. Emotional writers block I guess.

I don't know how to end this dis-jointed babble-filled post, so I'll just end it here: I hate feeling confused and I hate feeling stressed and overwhelmed. The only thing I hate more is change and I've got that going on right now too. It's been a bit of a month.

Know this much; I'm fine. I'm ok. I'm strong. But I'm not quite myself and I'm missing me.

So, for now, I'm going to head back to my den.

And I'm going to nibble on the chocolate Smith sent me in an Easter package.

Because he's just that good.

I'll try to be around a bit more, I promise. Until then, if you're jonesing for a read, take a look back through my archives. I love finding a blog and reading through the archives, so if you haven't already here, go for it. Start at the beginning; August was fun!




PS Sure wish I could reverse chronologize my archives. I hate opening August up and getting the 31st. That just seems... backwards.

PPS I'm not going to re-read this post right now, so advance apologies for editing that happens once you've already read it.


PPPS I think "chronologize" is an awesome word even if it's not really a "real" word. Reality is relative.

Gravatron the Invincible Has Spoken

So I called up He Who Has Not Yet Been Named tonight and told him we needed to have a serious talk.

I think he was a little worried until I started babbling about how CUTE the name "Link" was and how HOT Brendan Fraser was in that movie and how everyone LIKED Link. (Cool Brendan Fraser fact: Apparently in any Pauly Shore movie he's in, he calls himself Link. Awesome, no?)

(Note to self: Always do research BEFORE trying to win argument. Knowing this coolness now does not help your case.)

He was pretty insistent that Link wasn't the name that was going to represent him for all eternity on the internet.

There was a lot of pouting.

I told him all your counter-arguments and still he said no. Finally I told him that, fine, he HAD to come up with his own, "better" name then since he was being such a big party-pooper meany pants and ruining all my fun. (I may have left that last part out though)

He asked if he could have the weekend and I said "NO! We've (the royal We?) already waited since LAST weekend and WE all wanted Link, so no."

There may have been more pouting. (Note: It would appear to be difficult to pout effectively over the phone, but apparently I can. I have mad skills.)

He said he'd be ok with "Gravatron the Invincible" and I said "HA! I'm telling them you said that!" And then I mumbled that that was too long to type anyway and could he not come up with something decent like we had.

He said since I'm not using his real name for anonymity's sake (does anonymity need a sake?) could he be "Smith" or something?

This seemed like something I could live with so after a bit more "puhleeeease"-ing, I said I'd compromise and take Smith.

After all, Mr Smith is a hottie. ( Twelve Monkeys anyone? Thelma and Louise? )

So, as soon as I can make myself sit down, I'll tell you everything you've ever wanted to know about Smith*

(AKA. Link Gravatron Smith The Invincible, Esq.)





*Or, I'll at least tell you something. Promise.





Unless,of course, I decide I don't like the name and decide to change it anyway.






This post took far too long to write.
I edited it a lot.
I need to sleep.

Um, Yeah, About That.

So, turns out dude's really not big on Link.

Apparently he doesn't want people thinking he's a neanderthal. Or something. And really, to be fair, he does walk upright and can carry a conversation. (Unless I call too late and wake him up. Then it's pretty damn funny.)

I've told him if he's not good with what y'all came up with, then he'll have to come up with his own name.

He said he still likes "That Guy."

I'll give him another day or so.

And if he doesn't come up with anything? Well, then I'll choose. I'll claim artistic license and freedom of speech and stuff.

Until then? Keep on voting! Or... choosing. Or, whatever it is you're doing!

What's In A Name?

So, That Guy needs a name, I've decided.

When I asked him what I should call him if I was going to talk about him on this site, he said "That Guy" sounded fine to him.

Yes, he thought, he'd like to be That Guy.

But it's too bulky. Plus, every time I type out That Guy I feel obliged to link it. To something. So I think he needs a name.

I could, of course, just call him by his real name, but that's no fun. And I thought of calling him Far Away Guy, but the acronym for that is F.A.G. and...well..... I'm just not going to go there, m'kay?

So now let's see what you think. I've put some names here that I think That Guy could be called if his parents hadn't decided to call him "That Guy". (Which, of course, they didn't, but that's not the point.)

If I knew how, I'd make a little poll thing where you could vote by selecting the button and then it'd tally it all up, but instead I'll just stick the names here in no particular order and let you go at it in the comments!

Here goes. What do you think That Guy's name should be:

-Steve
-Mark
-Chris
-Adam
-Andrew
or ?


(PS I haven't included his real name or any names that belonged to old boyfriends, so, sorry, Brad Pitt can't be included as a choice.)

Happy

Here's wishing you a wonderful weekend, whether you're celebrating Easter or Passover or (nearly) Basakhi or Spring or getting together with family or an extra day (or two) off of work or all the chocolate or those odd little things they have in the US called Peeps.

Enjoy yourself!


Smile a lot.


And a very happy weekend to you.

Wheeeeeeeeee!

What a nice boy he is! : )

Ok Blah Blah Blah What? Blah Blah Blah Me?

So that's pretty much all I'm hearing right now.

"Blah blah blah" from the outside world and "WAY TOO MUCH" thinking from the inside world (um...me) and some "Wait, what did they just say? I probably should have heard that, right?"

At this point, I can't think even more than usual. There is no information getting through to my brain. At all. It's kind of bad.

I'm telling everyone to write things down or maybe just tell me to write it on my hand.

But if I do write it on my hand? You might want to email me about it anyway because I wrote "tickets" on my hand this afternoon and now I can't remember why.

Does anyone have my tickets? For that thing? Was I supposed to get you tickets? Tickets? What are tickets? And where did I get a pink pen?

Also, if you live on the other side of the country like a certain someone does? And I tell you that I need to not talk for a few days and then I call you up that night and say "I'm not calling to talk, I just wanted to say hi" and then I proceed to stay on the phone with you for 20 minutes without really saying much but still not wanting to hang up? Yeah, just know that the crazy comes and goes and isn't a permanent condition.

Usually.


Unless I really am going crazy this time. Which is possible too.


But y'all will still love me right?


P.S. ( You have to read this part in that super fast announcers voice they put on the end of commercials sometimes ) Any post topics you would like to suggest would be gratefully received as I seem unable to come up with much of any coherence. Like this sentence. It does not make sense. Accessories sold separately. Items may settle during shipment.

Don't Close Your Eyes; You'll Miss It All

Spring is made with subtle declarations in this town.

A car littered with cherry blossoms, boys in shorts refusing jackets.

The flip-flops and sandals come out, shoes and socks are banished.

And as much as people here are wont to complain about the rain, we never hesitate to let the sun pull us outside where we can bask; faces upturned and smiling.

I swear, I can almost smell the Coppertone.

The Post in Which I Blame Everything on The Early Time Change

Sorry.

I'm not intentionally leaving you in the dark or anything, I just haven't managed to sit down and write anything coherent. It's the time change.

See, I had a great time with That Guy. And yes, he knows about this site and says I can write what I like about him. I think it's the time change that made him say that, though, I dunno.

And after that week, I immediately took off and had a great holiday. But, they hadn't changed over their time yet so that was kind of weird.

Then I had to come right back home and to work, which was extra hard with the time change.

So, I'm working on it...getting back into work and my routines, that is. After I've adjusted to the time change, it'll be all good, I promise.

I'll figure stuff out soon, and as soon as I do? You'll know too.

Unless, of course, my post gets eaten up by the time change.

That'd suck.