Friday, 31 August 2007

Seeing Red


I often find myself thinking about my first fight with Smith.

Back when he first came out to visit, we were cleaning up in the kitchen after lunch, (or maybe breakfast, because long distance relationships mean instant living together) when I stopped him mid-putting a bread bag into the garbage.

"I, um, usually put those into recycling" I said.

"OK," he replied, half bent over (um, hello butt) "but these aren't recyclable."

"Sure they are. I put them in with all my other plastics all the time. They've got a code on the bottom." I shrugged, watching his arms flex under the cutest burgundy shirt I've ever seen as he crumpled up the bag.

"Well, then, you're just causing problems for the recycling guy. These things aren't recyclable. They have to go into garbage." He said, chucking the bag into the garbage.

I remember feeling annoyed that he might be right while being certain he wasn't, but there was also a nearly visible flash over my head as I realized what an awesome thing it was to be fighting about recycling.

My brain was so happy that Smith cared enough to actually notice what went into the garbage/recycling and that our first disagreement was about something environmental. An enlightened man? Eeeee!

I still don't know where to put my soft plastics, by the way, and Smith and I went on to fight, or disagree, or spat, or whatever, about way too many things the next time he came out. I don't remember what our last fight was about, but I can guess it had to do with people moving. Or not. We may have fought too much, I don't know.

So what about you? What was your first fight with your current Significant Other about? And what was your latest?

What's a fight in your view in a romantic relationship? And how do you decide if you and your partner fight too much?

Does anyone out there not fight?

Thursday, 30 August 2007

Break Up With Her In August

Looking back on things, I've come to realize that I've been dumped in August before.

At least twice.

Maybe it's something about the time of year; maybe guys are more able to envision a future without their current girlfriend when it's sunny out, maybe wild oats need seeded in the summer months, maybe it's just co-incidence, I'm not sure.

But now that I have some weeks, months and years, behind my respective August breakups, I'm thinking it's maybe not such a bad time of year to be dumped.


Around here, it's the middle of summer. Things are bright, even on cloudy days, and generally, people are cheerful and tanned and wearing clothes that let you imagine what they might look like naked. (See, we're a temperate rainforest, we usually wear jackets. And jeans. Often with sweaters.)

It's easier to force yourself to get off the couch when it's summer and your hometown is buzzing with activities and cool things to see and do.

Plus, all the hottest guys seem to flock to this town when it's summer. Maybe it's the University kids coming back, or the tourists, or just local people taking a few days off to enjoy the weather, I don't know.

I just know I've been so enjoying wandering around lately and exchanging flirty smiles with very good-looking, summer-clothes-wearing guys. It does wonders for the self-esteem.

So, seeing as I'll eventually have another dude in my life, I guess I can at least ask him to break up with me in August. A far, far better time to mourn than mid-December, no?


July - Spirit of the West

January follows December with a month of rain.
February waits for March to spring back again.
April, May remove your clothes, so go expose your skin.
June comes on putting colour back into your limbs.

July lays a hint of blonde, straight through your hair
August may insist it's time we kiss, before we disappear

September is here, let the real New Year begin.
October wears the colour of a rusting piece of tin.

November we remember, pin a poppy over your left breast.

But December is a battleground for those of us who get depressed.


Oh but July throws a hint of blonde, right through our hair
August will insist it's time we kiss before we disappear,

We disappear...


And summer runs a hand of blond all though my hair
And August will insist it's time we kiss before we disappear



I think I've found some beautiful post titles for the next few months.




Happy Summer, everyone.

Tuesday, 28 August 2007

Mini Rant

If I have to work with ONE MORE attractive guy my age who has moved out here from the other side of the country to be with his girlfriend I swear I'm going to lose it.

GIVE ME A BREAK!

Life Is A Highway


This post may sound familiar in some ways, (especially if you've been around here a while) but as I was driving to the store I started to think that my car and my relationship with Smith have a lot in common. Parallel relationships or something; a bad simile in the making.

Allow me to explain.

Some background: I love my car. (And, no, that's not my car over there. Dude, I so wish) My parents sold it to me when I first got hired as a spy. It's a great little car, but it is neither brand-new, nor 100% healthy.

I've been told by the guys at the car place that if I put (another) $1500 into my car it'll run forever, that it's a great car, solid and dependable, but I'm not sure I trust them and I've already put more into the car than I'd ever get back in resale.

My car doesn't always start the first time, especially in winter when it's cold and damp. And it runs a little rough, it makes noises and it has no power windows or air conditioning and sometimes the clock doesn't work. But it's a good car. The stereo works, and I just have to open both windows if I'm too hot. It gets good gas mileage, I keep it pretty clean. I got new tires a couple of years ago and new front breaks and, well, I love my car. It's fine. It's good enough. It does what it's supposed to do despite not being a BMW or Lexus.

I'm considering getting a new car sooner or later. But when I test drove one, I didn't have a great experience. And I'm not sure about going into debt when I could just fix what's wrong with the car I already have. Is it worth it having a car that purrs and runs like a dream but has no soul and leaves you owing the bank?

Sigh.

I have a car that I love, despite all its flaws (because, really, it's not the car's fault it's got a leaky oil thingamy) and I don't want to look for a new one, especially knowing that I might not like the new one and it might cause me a lot of money and therefore stress.

Which reminds me of Smith. Very much not perfect but loved. While I start thinking of moving on, I can logically see my way through all the benefits of a "better model", and I just, still come back to not wanting to. Smith was good, being with him was a bumpy ride, but I still ended up loving him and I think that with some care, the relationship could have gone on forever.

Like my car.

I guess I should be happy that at least my car can't drive away on me, right?

Monday, 27 August 2007

So Tricky! Answers Revealed! Crowd Awestruck!*

People, I have never dated a laywer!

(I mean, I've met a couple, but never any my age. Maybe when they're my age they're still in school or something.)

So yes, YNBF, your system of cleverness discovered my answer, and Delton you sussed it out too. Well done you two!


*or maybe just slightly amused.

Truth Hurts


I had a couple of ouchies today, both (surprise, surprise) Smith related.

Firstly, I spent most of last week working with some spies from another spy place. (I'm doing collaborative spying for a little while here. Can't talk about it, would have to wipe your memory.)

I managed to get myself into a group with the only two guys around my age who didn't have wedding rings. (My co-worker actually laughed at me on the way home, "I totally know why you put yourself in that group!" But, come on, I've got to try to get me a new man eventually, right? At least I'm trying. Sigh.)

One of these guys is kind of... attractive. Not someone I'd usually go for, but he's got that certain rawr thing going on. (And I figured a romp in the hay would help me get over Smith. Or, at least it might provide y'all some entertainment. And maybe I'd get a relationship out of it, who knows?) So, I let my imagination run away with me and pictured him ripping off my bodice and throwing me on the bed in his European, long haired swarthy kind of way, and I even manged to do some of my best flirting. (I think. There was eye contact and smiles and everything!)

My co-worker is brilliant and offered him a ride home from our (top secret) meeting place today and when I pulled out the "So, tell us about yourself" he talked about his partner (which, by the way, is one of my least favourite terms) and how he moved here from out East for her.

Ouch.

Not only is he in a long term relationship (which was a real blow to hear, surprisingly, I guess my imagination got further than just romance-novel-sex-scenes) but he moved here for her. You know, like Smith didn't do for me. Ow.

Secondly, I talked to this mortgage person at a bank to get an idea of what kind of places I'd be looking at if I wanted to buy. (You know, to get a general ballpark of what prices I should look at.) She asked me my address, phone number, that kind of thing and then she asked, "Are you single?"

"Yes." I replied, feeling proud of myself because I didn't get emotional or anything.

"Oh," came her answer, her former perkiness deflated, "that makes it really really tough for you to get a mortgage." And there was a pause while I sank into a huge hole of dark doom and gloom.

"Well, you could always wait til you got a boyfriend you know!"

Ouch. (I went on to explain, politely, that I'd been waiting for a boyfriend to get into the housing market for years and wasn't willing to do that anymore, but yes, once I found my rich husband I wouldn't be worrying about my mortgage payments, I was aware of that.)

Hurts to hear the truth sometimes, huh?

Sunday, 26 August 2007

And Now We Have Your Weekend Update

I have many reasons for not talking about my work and last week I was glad I'd made that rule for myself, because, dude? I could have ranted and raved and gone on and on about it every day last week. It was tempting. It still is.

But anyway. Work is what it is and it's only going to get more stressful in the coming weeks. So, yeah. I don't know how to stop my brain from leaking slowly out of my ears so puhleaze excuse me if my comments on your sites make very little sense or if I make even less sense here than usual, or, yeah. Stuff. Sorry in advance just in case. I'm stressed with no end in sight yet.

On the flip side, I've been to my second acupuncture appointment and found that after lying there with needles stuck in me I was as mellow as mellow could be. So now, when I become super rich, I think I'm going to add personal acupuncturist to my list of things I want. It'll be right next to chef and masseuse. (And boy toy...but that's a whole other fantasy.) I'm very optimistic about the long term benefits of this acupuncture thing and I think that's in part due to the fact that in this form of medicine (like with naturopaths as far as I understand it) they look at all of your symptoms and "problems" and treat you as a whole rather than, for example, healing your sore stomach with "stomach medicine".

Wait, I'm not making sense. I guess I'm saying that I think the human body is this beyond amazing complex system and when something's wrong it makes sense to try to "fix" more than just the main complaint because that problem may be the side effect of a larger issue. Hmmm, how can I make myself make sense here....

OK. When we talk about problems in society, people often talk about a "bandaid cure". Like, we move the homeless shelter out of the city so that the businesses aren't affected. Moving the shelter, however, doesn't do anything for the problem of homelessness, it just fixes one tiny aspect of it. Or, when we do a coat drive for the homeless; it helps, but it doesn't fix. Know what I mean?

So, following that analogy or comparison or whatever, I think a lot of times we go to the doctor and we get a cure for a problem. Or we get things that help the problem, but we don't often look at the big picture of what's causing the problem. (And, yes, I'm generalizing, that's ok... I'm allowed) It seems to me that this Doctor (of Traditional Chinese Medicine) is using the acupuncture to fix more than just my surface complaints; is fixing the whole problem instead of just making the homeless people go away.

Did that make any sense?

In other news (shot goes back to the attractive anchor man/woman) I spoke to Smith the other day. He'd sent me an email, a little unsure of how to talk to me since I'd said cold-turkey but then kind of reneged on it. We talked on the phone that night and I'm feeling better, kind of relieved. We didn't talk about getting back together or anything, but it was good to be able to talk.

I asked him about Acupuncture and told him about my work stress and we both agreed that we didn't really know how to proceed in terms of talking/not talking. Where we left it, I think, is that we'd call or email if or when we wanted and I guess we'll just make this up as we go along.

Talking to him meant I had to delete a couple of posts I'd started writing about how abandoned I felt, but that's OK.

I still agree with what I said, by the way. It's easier without reminders around to pine over when I'm really low. I think in our particular circumstances, talking sometimes is more natural. For us, anyway. We'll either just keep on talking, maybe become some version of "friends" or we'll sort of fall away from each other.

Or maybe it's a really bad idea to talk to him at all. I'll let you know eventually.

I'm just making this up as I go along anyway. Life, I mean.

My posts? I always make up as I go along!

Wha?

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programs.

(Oh, wait, I forgot... another funny thing about being back at work and being stressed out and stupid busy is that I keep wishing people would slow down with the updates! Heh. It's like, when I was at home vegging all day I could read as many as often as I wanted and now that I have only my evenings for life and work and more work and stuff I can't keep up with it all as well. Crazy, no?)

Friday, 24 August 2007

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Others


Do you remember that Sesame Street game "One of these things is not like the others?"

I thought we could have our own version and since I'm in charge around here, that's just what we have, yay!

So here goes. . .

I have dated all but one of the following:

- a pilot
- an athlete
- a musician
- a teacher
- a lawyer
- a stoner
- a counsellor
- a pilot in training /military officer (giveaway answer methinks!)
- a contractor
- an unemployed student
- a dj
- a divorced father
- a gardener
- a parking lot attendant
- a sailor


(Don't worry, I said "dated", not "slept with". My honour is still intact.)*

Guess away in comments.


Answers revealed in a few days!




*Guffaw

Thursday, 23 August 2007

OK

This is Why You Get Rid of All The Pictures

Because if you don't, you'll randomly come across a picture in your iPhoto library and just seeing how beautiful he was your heart will break into a million little pieces.

All over again.

Wednesday, 22 August 2007

Requiem for A Summer


Jim said it. It never really quite was. But that doesn't mean it wasn't beautiful.

This one goes out to Summer. . .

(And to Jordan, who reminded me how much I love this song.)

Updated to add: There used to be a song here, but it's gone now due to a media player that no longer is. Too bad too, because I can't remember what the song was.

Tuesday, 21 August 2007

Aural Gratification

An unexpected bonus of my watching So You Can Think You Can Dance this year is that the following songs are now regularly on repeat around my place.

Music has a certain healing capacity for me that may come from in part from my childhood, but also from my dance background. Music makes me feel and I love when I find music that echoes what I'm feeling.

It's like an amazing internal harmony.

It's comforting, somehow, to hear what's caught up inside.


No video, just black on this one.... Imogen Heap - The Moment I Said It. Glorious.


Apologize - One Republic. Beautiful. Just makes you want to move.

Men, Activate Your Manly Shields!

Ok, it's obviously far too early in the morning, because I can. not. stop. giggling at this


ahhh hah hah ha hah hah haah. Sorry.


I either need caffeine or sleep.




Is it too early for ice cream?


UPDATED: Whoops, photo not fitting, ummmm..... right. OK. Uh.... hmmm... Will now become a link I guess.

Monday, 20 August 2007

Decompression Chamber


Ugh.

Smith broke up with me while I was on holiday from work which was, in a number of ways, a good thing; I didn't have to put on a brave face for my clients or co-workers, I could sit around and just take care of myself and I got to distract myself with movies and writing four hundred posts a day. (Ahem)

But there was one thing I hadn't realized until tonight, and that's how much I'd miss talking to him at the end of my work day.

Sure, I've got my friends, and I've talked to them already, and I sweated it out at the gym for a while, but there's just something about coming home and talking to that one person you have an intimate connection with that's so good.

And I'm missing that a lot tonight; the ability to talk with a lover and decompress. It's funny, the things you take for granted.

I'd Have to Agree

With Kyle about Stardust.

I loved it!

It had super characters; the good guys were great and the bad guys were terrible and it was just what I needed. I laughed, I cried, the whole nine yards. I even dreamed about it.



P.S. Since none of you rescued me yesterday, I'm back to work today very sulkily. Monday mornings are the absolute worst part of holidays.

Smith didn't even email to wish me luck, which, you know, he's not my boyfriend anymore and is pretty self-involved right now, but still... I guess I'm always the hopeful romantic.

*sigh*

Sunday, 19 August 2007

Remedy


So I had a bad day yesterday.

It was really hard feeling so sad and hurt just when I thought I was starting to feel better about Smith.

I didn't know what to do with myself so I followed my usual Saturday routine, got caught up on the finale of So You Think You Can Dance (thanks to my Mom for taping it) and went to the gym.

By mid-evening I was feeling a tad better (slogging it out on the elliptical trainer while a cute guy checks you out a few times will do wonders for your mood) but didn't want to spend my last day of holiday (waah!) bummed out so I went and made myself a care package to help cheer me up.

I bought myself pretty flowers, picked up some goodies and videos. It may not be a miracle cure, but I figure it'll do some good.

Or, at least, not make anything worse.

If you clicky on the photo, you can see what 'zactly I got.

I'll let you know how it goes.

Looks Like You've Been Missing a Lot of Work Lately, Victoria


Well, I wouldn't say I've been missing it, Bob.




(Please don't make me go back)


(PLEASE?!)

PS I forgot, there's a funny something hidden in this post somehow! Tee hee! Me so funny. (To me.)


Updated to add: Noooooooooooooooo! Please, nooooooo!

Saturday, 18 August 2007

Mistakes. All Over Again


I had a mishap yesterday while printing out my digital photos.

I went in to the store with a disc containing a year's worth of photos and when I went to pick them up, they handed me a box.

Um. What?

"This is my fault." says my brain.

See, when I was in the store and their magical computer finished uploading my photos it said something like "there are three hundred something photos and two hundred something that were detected and found to be too small to print" and I just kind of shrugged it off because, huh? Are you telling me there were six hundred photos on that disc? Impossible. There were maybe three hundred, max.

I could have scrolled through all the photos but I'd already pre-cropped them at home and I wanted to get out of the line and figured I'd re-check the number of photos on my disc when I got home. Which I did.

My disc contained 246 photos and I was pretty sure the store's computer had said three hundred and something. There was a moment where my brain said "Call the store and check. Cancel the order and go back in. There's a mistake." But I didn't, I just figured it'd all work out fine 'cuz, come on. My disc contained two hundred and forty-six photos. I'd just checked. What the computer was suggesting wasn't possible. "Don't worry," I told myself. "You worry too much. It'll be ok"

Which it wasn't, as I discovered when I went back to pick them up and found my giant box of 385 prints waiting for me. Damn.

I think I know, partially, what caused some of the overprints, but that's not what's bothering me.

A hundred and fifty dollars later I found myself sitting in my car sorting through photos that had randomly doubled themselves and weren't in any sort of chronological order and why on earth were there now four of that photo?

I was mad at myself at making the mistake, and really mad at myself for ignoring what might have been a way to fix the mistake and really really mad at myself for not even investigating it when my gut told me otherwise.

As I sat there, trying to tell myself it was ok to make a mistake and that I'd figure out something to do with the extra photos, tears started welling up in my eyes.

Thinking about mistakes made me think about Smith and the feeling I have right now that I made a huge mistake by putting my trust in him; that my relationship with him was a mistake. I don't need any more mistakes right now.

So all of a sudden I'm not dealing with a hundred and fifty extra prints, I'm dealing with my broken heart all over again.

Just when I was starting to feel better about things. Sigh.

I hope this gets easier. Knowing that I'm going to make more mistakes, in life, and in love I either have to be ok with it or I'm never going to survive.




This getting-over-Smith thing is very much two steps forward and one step back.

Friday, 17 August 2007

Hubba Hubba

I bought this pretty little essential oil burner (which looks super pretty, just not in their stock photo) last week and have just discovered that Lemon Basil, (dude, what kind of scent write up is that? Eat-in kitchen???) when burned, or evaporated or whatever it is, smells exactly like one of my exes.

I can't for the life of me figure out who it is, partly because I really don't like cologne on guys but, I really don't think I care either.

My whole apartment smells really really sexy right now.

It's a good thing I haven't ordered any pizza or anything, because if a hot guy showed up at my door right now? It'd be a porn flick in the making.

Bom chicka wah wah.

I should probably open some windows in here.

Things I Know


When a relationship is long in the past and you've moved on with another person, you can't believe you ever wanted to spend the rest of your life with your ex. It seems so obvious that he was wrong, and all the things you ignored when you were together seem so glaring and it's hard to believe you would ever have put up with that.

But when you're in a relationship, you want it to be the one. You want to be right this time.

Thursday, 16 August 2007

Foresight 20/20?

After the first month or so with Smith, I heard this song and somehow it became an anthem for me about the relationship.

Updated to add: OK, let's try a full version of the song hmmmm? (Grumble at the internets and all its trickeries)

Further updated to add: Hmmmm... go here to hear it in full. I gotta check some stuff out. 30 second clips are annoying.


Maybe it was the chorus; "we're kidding ourselves"?



Also, I was tracking back, following all the Smith links and I came to this.


Interesting, no?

(But, wait. Don't say anything too mean, I'm feeling rather chipper today.)

(Well, not that you're ever mean, but still.)

Wednesday, 15 August 2007

This Just In: Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz


I'm sleepy.

Which may be, in part, due to the half of a sleeping pill I took last night after pulling an all-nighter after napping the other day. And, yes, I did get rather "thoughtful"* around four in the morning on my no-sleep night and, yes, I did write a letter to Smith and, yes, I did mail it already thank you very much, ooops. (Oh, well, can't un-mail it now, and it's not as if anything can get any worse. He can't re-dump me, right?)

(But can you imagine that phone call? "Hi, Victoria? Remember how I said it just wasn't working out and it was over? Well, I just wanted you to know, I'm breaking up with you.")

(Actually, that might be worse. Damn. Never mind)

So it could be that I'm sleepy due to that half a (Doctor prescribed, non-addictive, non-overdosable, kind of namsy pamsy so don't worry please) sleeping pill I took last night, or it could be from my first ever acupuncture appointment today. (And by the way did you know that that word does not have a double c? Me either!)

The experience itself was pretty much what I expected discomfort-wise; I'd talked to friends before and had been told over and over again that it didn't *hurt*.

Which it didn't.

If you're at all reticent about acupuncture because of the whole needle thing, let me assure you it is nothing like getting a shot or blood taken or that hideous thing the dentist uses to torture you. Nothing. Those things don't feel nice. If you've ever accidentally jabbed yourself with a needle while sewing (I can barely sew on a button, hence the jabbing) you might know the feeling I'm talking about. Some of the needles kind of felt just a tiny bit like that when going in, and others didn't really feel like much at all.

My Doctor (of TCM) let me know that some of the (holy cow, amazing sky right now, hang on, must.get.camera) (Never mind, can't catch the colours on film right, but if you're listening psychically now all you locals? LOOK UP! Nice eh?) points might feel a little intense and sure enough a couple of times she'd tap in a needle and it'd feel a bit like a baby bee sting for a moment or two. Also, there was one she put in my foot and I felt like I wanted to scratch it like a mosquito bite. And one that went in that tickled. Seriously.

The most difficult part for me was wanting to keep still. See, they tap the needles in (well, not IN, so much as, just kind of a little) and then leave them to do their healing magic stuff for a while. I wanted to curl up and nap, but didn't want to move the needles. I took a look at all the needles to see what I looked like (there were only about 14 total so it wasn't too odd looking) and gave myself a good chuckle/slight gross out when I moved a finger and a needle moved too. One not near my finger. Bwa!

So while I didn't love the process the same way I love massage therapy (mmmmm, massage) neither did I hate it. It was kind of uncomfortable, but calming at the same time. My overall reaction is a "huh". (Kind of what I thought when I first gave a blow job, oh-my-god did I just say that let's pretend I didn't, 'kay?) I think I'll wait another few visits before I decide what I think overall.

In other words, if this stuff works? Then it's awesome and totally worth it.

By the time I got home (and, yes, I promise I'm getting back to the point of this post now) I was feeling rather dozy. And a little bit tender in my wrists where the needles went, but not in the other spots. I did some googling and called my girlfriend who's had a lot of 'puncture (oooh, bad nickname) done and she said that both the tiredness and achy/soreness was normal. So I'm normal. (Guffaw)

The whole experience really made me want to talk to Smith (who's currently unreachable in Military land, not just unreachable because I "lost" his number) because, well, he's a licensed acupuncturist. (I know. Can you *see* why I'm having such a hard time letting him go?) So, yeah. I wanted to check in with him and see if this and that was supposed to be feeling a little pinchy and was I sleepy on purpose or what?

Computer says, yes.

So yeah. I am sleepy. Not only is it expected after a treatment, but it is also partially what I went in to see them about, so, yay!

Which leads me to the accompanying photo. (Awesome, awesome, AWESOME abrupt segue. I rule!) I was going to put up a photo of an acupuncture treatment, but figured it might make someone with a needle "thing" barf or something. Plus, the internet seems obsessed with photos that make acupuncture look FREAKY. (Go on, google image search, you know you want to now) So instead, I give you kind-of-attractive-news-guy and a link to this. Because, come on, how bad can it be if she can do it?

Ok. I'm going to bed now. I figure I can make it through half a chapter before I konk out completely.

'Night night peoples in my time zone.




*And by "thoughtful", I mean "thinking too much but in a rather clear way and able to put together thoughts that might ordinarily be jumbled". Not "I'm so depressed/angry and want to make my ex suffer" kind of way. Those letters are bad. Don't mail them.

Sigh


I'm really not enjoying spreading the news of my complete and utter singledom to my closest female friends.

My girlfriends are great, don't get me wrong, but when it comes to comforting me when I'm going through a breakup? Well, they're not always what I need. Most of them seem to miss the mark.

Maybe it's because they've seen me go through it so many times and they're jaded to my heartache, knowing I'll move on, seeing as I did the last times. Or maybe it's because they're all happily husbanded and they forget just how much it hurts to lose what you thought was your true love. Maybe it's because most of my girlfriends are still with their one, main true love; many of them never had more than one big relationship. Or maybe my best girlfriends just say what they think will be most helpful, not knowing it just ends up making things feel worse.

I'm generalizing of course, but the majority of my closest girlfriends have seemed entirely neutral about the Smith-finally-dumped-me thing. None of them have seemed particularly surprised, which makes me think about what I've told them; what I chose to talk to them about. Maybe I share my relationship concerns more than I do my relationship certainties.

I just got off the phone with my best girlfriend and I cringed when she said "Well, you didn't want to be with him anyway, did you?" and then followed it up with "I mean, it's not as if you guys were together, right?"

Which, sure, may be technically true, but don't you remember the part of the breakup where all you want to hear is "there there" or "OMG are you OK?" or "damn, V, that must totally suck, are you ok?"

That's kind of where I am right now. I don't want to pick myself up and throw Smith away and start looking for the next available bachelor. I'm still hurt and confused.

To be completely fair, everyone has said "I'm sorry" in one way or another, but they're all so eager to rush me on; to move me forward....to get the next guy going already.

Maybe my girlfriends think I'm stronger than I am. Maybe that's the side I show, my public face. I don't know. I guess I find it hard to show weakness to my close friends when I know life isn't easy for anyone. Maybe, also, it's easier for me to be there for them than to let them see just how low I'm feeling. Maybe I'm afraid they'll judge me for not being enough in some way.

I just know it's been easier talking about the breakup here than anywhere else. You guys have said what I needed to hear and for that, I'd like to give y'all a big hug.

You're great girlfriends you know; gender notwithstanding.

Tuesday, 14 August 2007

Posting is the New Black

So are you enjoying the now ridiculously often posting that's been going on lately? Because I am.

Also, I am hoping I can keep on babbling writing lots once I'm back at work and how COOL is that line through the writing thing? Very. Thank you very much.

Since today, we seem to be going for multiple posts (and by 'We', I mean me, of course), I thought I may as well draw your attention, Vanna White style, to the latest thing I have decided not to fix on my site.


Yeah? Do you see that? That... gaping expanse of white? No?

Ok, just look over that way

<----------- See it now? Lots of nothing. An imbalance of nothing. Especially now that I put in my new shiny moving flickr badge. (Well, OK, flickr put it in for me, I just cut and pasted. But I did manage to change the words cuz I'm tricky like that!) Maybe that's where my ads are supposed to go or something? I dunno. Probably pretty art work stuff like some people have. I just know I glanced once at my template html stuff this morning and decided not to mess. At all.

You were hopefully lucky enough to miss the disaster that was me attempting to switch to Blogger's widget based template. (The coolest thing being I was then able to momentarily put up a poll about donuts before my brain exploded and I swore a lot and nearly cried when I realized I could press a button and it'd all. go. back. to. normal.) Because, people? I am not a web page designer html fluent type person at all. Can you not tell? Come on? Who else would be THIS excited about a strikethrough font discovery?

Anyhoo. I need to finish this post soon so I can go put on pants.

So, for now, white stuff will remain there. Think of it as a happy place for your eyes to rest when all the words on the page make no sense and jumble together, a lot like now.

But enough about me. I'm going to go help my friend shop for bras now. Because, well, you know why. I'm good. Friends ask for me by name. "Victoria". That's what they say. When then ask for me. By name.

Why exactly did I post this? Well, my friends, because I can. Because I could.

This, is the Mount Everest of posts.

And now I leave you with a picture that makes my arms and fingers look freakishly long. Don't say I never do anything for you.



Now go comment about dance reality tv shows already!

Latest Song on Repeat

Tells you where I'm at, no?




Let it die and get out of my mind
We don't see eye to eye
Or hear ear to ear

Don't you wish that we could forget that kiss ?
And see this for what it is
That we're not in love

The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start

It was hard to tell just how I felt
To not recognize myself
I started to fade away

And after all it won't take long to fall in love
Now I know what I don't want
I learned that with you

The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start
The tragedy starts from the very first spark
Losing your mind for the sake of your heart
The saddest part of a broken heart
Isn't the ending so much as the start


"The saddest part of a broken heart isn't the ending so much as the start."
What I'm most hurting for right now is remembering all the things Smith used to say to me and all the dreams I built out of what he promised me we'd have. What I'm mourning is the life we had together. Apparently it never existed outside of my own imagination and that really hurts.

I know that in time, when I've moved on, I'll be glad I didn't end up with Smith, but right now it hurts.

I really need to let it die, this "relationship". It's just so hard.

Up For Interpretation

I know I've talked before about dance and what it means to me, and how the tv show So You Think You Can Dance regularly comes up with dances created by world-class choreographers that simply stun me.

There was a dance last season that stunned a lot of people. Including the people who apparently know things about TV.

As I was re-watching this particular dance along with several others, it struck me that in this dance I can see the story of Smith and I played out, nearly perfectly. In fact, I could probably sit down with you in front of this video and explain how this part is showing when this happened and that part shows when I realized this.....all the way through right up until the end where he walks away.

I think this is what great art does, and dance, good dance tells stories that you can relate to your life. Great dance allows you to interpret what you need to from what the dancers are saying. Knowing what you do, when you watch this dance, what story does it tell you about what I feel happened with Smith and I?

What's your interpretation?


Calling You - Choreography by Mia Michaels


Monday, 13 August 2007

Um, Ow.

So I broke my hip the other day.

Or, maybe didn't break it, but I certainly gone done owied it up.

I remember sitting for a long period of time writing a certain post (because I often cave into peer pressure) and when I stood up I thought "Huh. My hip hurts. I guess I sat too long in that weird cross-folded-leg laptop position. Oh well, it'll feel better in a few minutes."

Or days?

I've tried heat and Advil and now I've resorted to icing since it seems to help a little.

It also helps if I don't sit.

Which, you know, is really hard to do because being on holiday means I am allowed, nay, supposed to sit on my butt, while lying down on the couch results in naps that result in me being unable to sleep which then means I lay awake and think too much at night and get all depressed over the fact that my boyfriend the guy I thought was my boyfriend doesn't want to be my boyfriend anymore. Or anything remotely resembling my anything anymore. And by the way can you tell what I just learned how to do? Look! STRIKETHROUGH!

But yeah. I should probably go see a physiotherapist or something cuz I think I may have actually done something not good to my back seeing as my hip stops hurting when I put the ice on my lower back kind of area not quite my butt.




I wanted to put something funny here about how cold my butt feels right now, but it all came out sounding creepily sexual, so just laugh for me. "Oh, that Victoria!" *shake head while smiling*

Thanks.

Updated To Add: I lay on the couch reading for a while this morning with a heating pad on. Then I turned off the heating pad and slept, no naps be damned. The phone just woke me up from a good three hours of sleep time. I guess my body has some healing to do.

Do naps help with broken hearts too?

Sunday, 12 August 2007

If You Have An Extra Couple of Minutes on Your Hands

And grew up around the same time I did. . .

you should watch this.

I was laughing out loud.

Loudly.

Watch all of it if you want, but I killed myself during the first two or three minutes.

"What? Who put that there? Where did that come from?"

(Be warned though, faint of heart, this video includes bad, bad, non PG language. Don't sue me.)


Most Difficult Super Mario Level Ever 

*giggle*

Ok, Don't Be Mad


But. . .

I called Smith yesterday.

I know what I said, but I didn't follow through very well. I'm better, sometimes, at giving advice than heeding it.

It wasn't a bad phone call. I wasn't sobbing or yelling. I thought about it first. It just seemed like the right thing to do. For me. In that moment.

See, my friend C (yes, she who introduced us and who has another guy lined up, apparently) came over on Friday (which forced me to clean my place so it didn't look so much like Pink when he loses it) and we went downtown where she took me to (one of) her favourite ice cream place(s). We came home, ordered pizza, watched a silly movie and talked about Smith. (Not necessarily in that order)

When I told her I had deleted Smith's phone numbers, emails, etc but I really wanted to call him, C asked why I'd done that and pointed out that his number would appear on my phone bill when I told her I didn't know how to call him even if I wanted to.

And my brain said "huh".

It's not that she was encouraging me to call him or anything. I just felt relieved knowing I could.

And then I found the piece of paper I'd originally written Smith's number on, so long ago.

I recycled it.

And realized that if I went onto the web based account of my POP mail I'd still have a copy of the email Smith sent me last week.

Again, relief.

And then I fished his number out of the recycling.

And put it away.





Until yesterday, when I called C and told her I was going to call Smith.

"Well, ok. Um, why?" she asked.

"Because." I replied.

"Ok."

And that was that. No judging, no encouraging, just "ok." Just what you want to hear. Neutrally supportive.

So I called.

Shaking fingers and all.

I guess I'm glad I did. I asked him if he was sure, told him I knew it was a silly question and we talked for a while. Smith seemed surprised I'd deleted everything and asked me why I felt the need to make everything so black and white.

I didn't really have a clear answer, but said I was trying to move on or something.

We talked for a while before I had to go, and I guess I might feel better. In a way.

We're really still not together, but, in a way, that's not a huge change from what was and has been for a long time. It's just now that I know at least he'll call sometime, or email sometime and that's good. It's a relief. Maybe I'm not meant to go cold turkey with Smith. Maybe it's more of a weaning.

Or maybe this is just an intermission. Maybe someday I'll get to title a post "Mister and Mrs Smith".

Don't roll your eyes and shake your head at me. I like having a modicum of hope in my life. Life is nothing without it.

I'm doing the best I can. It might not be the wisest/healthiest/easiest of paths. I don't know if being in contact with Smith will make things better or worse or no different at all. It seems that unless some twist of fate puts him in this town we'll never be together; we'll never have a shot. Maybe hoping for that twist of fate is a bad idea. Maybe it's the best thing I'll ever do. Maybe it's the worst. Maybe a month from now I won't care. I don't know. I'm just trying to get through the day.

Without eating quite so much junk food.

Without falling to pieces.

Without things having to be completely black or white.


Saturday, 11 August 2007

Oh, But it Was Worth It (a.k.a. Momentary Topic Chanage)

Once a year a certain segment of the spy community holds a banquet to celebrate stuff. Spy stuff. I was invited to this banquet last year and discovered it to be a bounteous buffet of gorgeous young male spies. (This particular aspect of spy work tends to attract more men than women, and the men that go into this area tend to be fit and good looking.) Yum. My.

When I changed workplaces last summer, I assumed I would once again be sent to the banquet. As the date approached and my invitation did not arrive I started to get suspicious. It turned out that my new office did not send any spies to the banquet. I was bummed.

So I decided to sneak in. (Duh, we're spies, what did they expect me to do?)

I got home from work late that evening and realized I had nothing decent to wear. I called up a fellow female spy and asked her if I could get away with dark jeans since any other pants I could wear were in the wash or did not go with any of the shirts I wanted to wear or weren't nice enough to impress hot guys. She said there was no way I could get away with jeans so I fished out a skirt, and realized I needed to shave my legs so that I didn't have to keep them constantly under the table.

No problem right?

Right.

Until I grabbed the razor out of the shower, dropped it accidentally and watched the blade pop off and slip right. down. the drain.

Plonk.

Damn.

It was now close enough to banquet time that I didn't have time to run out and buy a new razor and I don't own a pair of nylons. I knew I could not go into this room of hot, available men looking less than lovely so I wracked my brain for possible solutions.

Could I go with dirty pants? Work clothes? Would anyone notice anyway? Damn, how was I going to get myself to this banquet looking more than half-decent?

And that's when I remembered my camping kit. Already pre-packed to make life easier, I knew it'd have a disposable razor tucked somewhere in there, and sure enough it did.

My "be prepared" spy training had saved the day and I managed to get my legs silky and lovely just in time.

The banquet was its usual treasure trove of eye candy and I ran into some great former co-workers and a former crush or three, it was awesome.

The lesson we all want to learn here though, ladies, is that it pays to always have beauty necessities on backup.

Or long skirts.



Or, maybe both.

Friday, 10 August 2007

Advice for the Broken-Hearted


Dear us,

When someone ends a relationship with you, it's going to hurt. What you want to do is try to make the length of the hurt shorter, if possible. While I can't help you with the crying, I can help you with an important part of moving on, the, um... uh "I Can't Think of a Title" part.

Here's what you need to do:

1. Delete his/her number from your cell, contact lists, phone, memory. If you've memorized it, un-memorize it. Now you can't phone your ex sobbing, begging, promising or threatening. If he/she made a mistake and wants you back? Well, they can call you. There's nothing worse than having an ex tell you to stop calling after they've already dumped you. Get rid of the phone numbers. (Smith's numbers are all long distance, so there's no way I remembered them. I can remember all but three digits of his home number, to be honest, but still, can't call him.)

2. Erase his/her email from your address book and databases. You do not need to email this person anymore. The relationship is over, they ended it, there's nothing more to be said. (This took me a while to figure out how to do in Mail, and I nearly threw up once I realized I could no longer contact Smith even if I wanted to. This is why you do these things fast, and hopefully while you're still in shock and a little angry.)

3. Get rid of any reminders of him/her. Throw out photographs, emails, gifts, PHOTOS, all of it. If you need to, put things in a box and give it to someone, but trust me, the sooner you get it out of your house, the sooner you can start moving on. (I've done this twice with Smith now. Once when I told him I wanted a break, and now again. I put all his emails and photos on a disk and it's in a cupboard somewhere. Means less chance of me running across things that hurt when I see them.)

And that's all I know. Everything's so individual. Maybe some of you like to get out and party it up. Maybe some of you like to stay home and watch sad movies, I don't know. Do what you need to do to remember that you're a good person and you do have people in your life who love you and that the asshole who just dumped you is going to regret it until the day they die. And hopefully they'll die sad and alone on that day while you're off living your fabulous life without them.

Good luck. Other fish in the sea and all that.

OK, now seriously:
I wrote this right after Smith broke things off. Now I'm not so sure. Really, most of the time I just try to do what seems like the right at the time. In this case, I'm just remembering my last breakup and the fact that I got over it eventually. I still think this is probably pretty good advice. It just doesn't make it feel better. That part's just going to take a while.
I keep hoping he'll call back and tell me he changed his mind.

Thursday, 9 August 2007

Well, That's That Then


In a phone conversation a couple of hours ago, things between Smith and I were firmly put to rest.

Smith does not want to be in a long distance relationship.

And seeing as that's all we can manage right now, we're done.

Or, more precisely, he's done.

With us.

Kind of ironic after this morning's post, no?

I'm going to be pretty sad and hurt for a while, but seeing as that's not particularly new around here, I'm hoping y'all will stick around until the happy comes back.

Which I hope it will.

I miss it.

For future reference, I don't think I'll be writing about a relationship here again. It's too difficult when it starts to go wrong.

Kind of kills the whole anonymity thing too, to know that an Ex can follow me here for the rest of my life if he wants.

So, I guess Smith gets to be the only boyfriend to appear on this site until I find my Mister Perfect.





I really wanted things to work out for us.

But I guess you knew that already.

Making Peace With Things


When people write what sometimes later become clich├ęs, they are often describing something that is common throughout the human experience. Something that transcends race or gender or age. And while I'm not particularly interested in discovering why a saying that has meaning loses its power through overuse, I am interested in the truth that I'm currently finding in the idea that "It is always darkest before dawn."

The past several months, for me, with regards to Smith, have been difficult ones; the past few weeks incredibly so.

And it's not as if our situation has changed, but I'm starting to make peace with things. I'm more able to let go of trying to control the situation. I'm calmer and more accepting of the fact that the universe knows what it's doing. I've come to understand that in trying to force the relationship I have made it untenable, even though that's not quite the right use of that word.

We've talked about our relationship, Smith and I, over and over and over. And while there isn't a resolution to be had, I feel now like I've been heard, and I feel like I'm listening to him. It's not easy, and I still can't tell you how things are going to end, or even if they ever are, but right now I'm ok.

Which brings me back to the thought I started with; things with relationships seem to get better for me only after they've been really really bad. It seems the more important the problem, the more invested and involved with it I am, the harder I have to crash through everything before it starts to feel better.

With Smith and I, it's like I had to get in the worst possible place, get right in there, be hurt and angry and disappointed and devastated and lost. I had to feel all those things, feel like there was no way out. Once I felt that, it freed me up to be clear and honest. Maybe it was the sense that I had nothing to lose; it made me look at everything in an unemotional way. It made me look clearly at what I was feeling and doing and I saw things that were fair and things that were unfair.

Somehow hitting my absolute bottom in this relationship let me see that I wasn't the only one who mattered, and in finding that, I found I was able to feel like I could let things go. Let go of what I wanted because it was hurting him. And that's not love.

Maybe for the first time ever, I've truly understood the meaning behind another well-used saying: If you love something, set it free.

When you really love someone, not selfishly, not because of what you want from them, but because you love who they are, you want them to find peace. I had really hoped that I'd bring that to Smith; and now I can. By understanding that he needs to be where he is and follow a path that doesn't appear to lead him to me, I can let him do that. And that's what I'm trying to do. It's not easy, but it's the right thing to do.

I'm making peace with things.

For now, at least. And I'm really hoping it lasts.

I'm not expecting Smith to come back to me, as the saying goes, but I'm not ruling it out either.

If it's meant to be, it will be. Until then, I need to let it go and just have faith in the knowledge that I'm doing the right thing. I know where my heart is. And I know where my heart will be until time, or a new love makes it otherwise. I can't force this relationship to go the way I'd most like it to and I can't force myself to stop loving Smith.

I'm not sure I've made myself entirely clear in this post. I guess I just wanted to say that although things have been really bad lately, it feels like they're getting better.... no, that's not it; it feels like I'm getting better.



And that's a relief.




Barn's burnt down. Now I can see the moon. - Masahide

Wednesday, 8 August 2007

Who Me?

Hi! Did you like that last post? The one that had a weird title and then nothing?

Yeah, that was blogger showing me just how much it loves me by posting something I hadn't even started writing.

Oh, and then allowing me to finish the post and store it in my drafts all the while NOT TELLING ME IT HAD POSTED A NOTHING.

Cursity curse curse curse!



But anyway, how are you?

And while we're talking about you, why don't you go watch this before they make it unavailable too. Just try not to get completely frustrated by the awkward camera coverage. Wait, was that just me?

I Got Soul But I'm Not a Soldier

Currently, I am rocking hard core to:

All These Things That I've Done - The Killers

Paralyzer - Finger Eleven (frigging awesome video too)


The Bird and the Worm - The Used



And I am mellowing out to:

Honey and the Moon-Joseph Arthur


In the Sun-Joseph Arthur


Have a Little Faith in Me-John Hiatt





I know it's a bit of a mishmash of players and whatnot, but I can't find another way to let you hear these songs.

Tuesday, 7 August 2007

Remember Those Summer Readings Lists From High School?

Yeah, this isn't one of those lists.

As requested by a relentless McGone and an inquisitive Likalia, I've done my best to list the books I read over the last month. To be perfectly honest, as I was making this list my memory came up short of about 5 books. I'm not sure if it's because they were too long ago, or if they were just not that memorable. (I promise I'll tell you about the other five if I ever remember. Unfortunately I've already hit the used book store and traded them in for the next batch.) So, instead, I stuck in some books that I know I've read recently. I debated pretending I'd read very lofty and meaningful books, but, heck, it's summer, I'm allowed to read fluff.

So, here, not particularly in the order I read them, are the books I read from July 1st to August 6th, 2007. The books for which you owe money to charity!

Drumroll please:

Night Watch - by Sergei Lukyanenko.
This was absolutely my best find. I bought it because I like reading books that get turned into movies and I'd wanted to see this movie when it was released. I love love LOVED this book and recommend it. It's science-fictiony, which may be my favourite genre. Awesome book. Awesome. Read it.

So B. It - by Sarah Weeks.
This was recommended to me by a teenager I know. It was fine. It's about a young girl trying to find out more about her mentally disabled mother.

Artemis Fowl The Opal Deception - by Eoin Colfer.
I first read Artemis Fowl a few years ago when it showed up on the young adult Bestseller lists. Since then, I've kept up with the series. This one might have been my second favourite. I certainly enjoyed it more than the last couple. Pretty good fun, but you need to have read the others first, I think.

I am A Taxi - by Deborah Ellis.
Another youth book. Recommended by a friend. I found it rather depressing. Deborah Ellis is known for writing about the impact of war on children in other countries, or the plight of kids growing up in places where the lifestyle is very different from ours. This book is the story of a boy growing up in jail where his parents have been detained. :(

Day Watch - by Sergei Lukyanenko.
I loved Night Watch so much that I went right back out and bought this one. I didn't enjoy this one as much. You should go read Night Watch already.

Ender's Game - by Orson Scott Card.
I was trying to save money (I tend to spend a lot on books, who would have guessed?) and looked through my books at home for an old favourite to re-read. Ender's Game won out. Another simply fantastic book. Also sci-fi. Luckily for me it'd been a while since I read it and I got to re-enjoy it. Read this if you like space type future sort of books at all.

Something Borrowed, Something Blue, and Baby Proof -all by Emily Giffin.
These were picked up along with a couple more on a book run through Costco. I find Costco tends to have decent chick-lit summer reads. Plus, they're cheaper. Something Borrowed and Something Blue go together and were decent romantic comedy types and I quite liked them. Baby Proof was hard for me to read as it centered around a couple who married not wanting kids and what happened to them when one changed their mind. Right as I started reading it, Smith and I had a big fight about if I wanted kids or not. Life imitates art imitates life. Or something. *sigh* Baby Proof was probably my least favourite of the bunch, but they were still fine.

Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince - by J.K. Rowling.
I re-read this to get ready for Book #7 coming out. I cried. Again.

Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows - by J.K. Rowling.
Yay
! No spoilers here, but I did cry.

Swapping Lives - by Jane Green.
Also a Costco buy. I wanted to throw it across the room most of the time. Not a terrible book, it just rubbed me the wrong way. Wouldn't get going. Might have been a waste of my time. But what do I know. Maybe you'll like it.

Before I Wake - by Robert J. Wiersema.
Recommended to me by a woman at Costco as I was staring at its cover. I very much wanted to not read this one once I started. It bugged me even more than Swapping Lives. I read them one after the other and was terrifically grumpy at the time. That may have contributed to my desire to throw this one across the room too. Surprisingly, this was set in Victoria. Which also annoyed me as I felt the need to mentally check every detail for accuracy. My friend is currently reading this and likes it, so maybe it was just me. *shrug*

The First Time - by Joy Fielding.
Please don't read this book. Please. I couldn't stop crying during the end of this book, it was SO DAMN DEPRESSING, even though I knew what was going to happen. I didn't enjoy the writing. I've been born with this strange thing that doesn't let me stop reading a book once I've started. I wish I had never picked this one up. Recommended by my sister in law. Did not like. Seriously.

Confessions of a Shopaholic, Shopaholic takes Manhattan, Shopaholic Ties The Knot, Shopaholic and Sister, and The Undomestic Goddess - all by Sophie Kinsella.
The Shopaholic books were recommended by C (she who introduced Smith and I). I didn't really get into the first one, but once you learn to love the main character, you get hooked. The shopaholic books are great fun, and while I'm not a big shopper, I could totally get behind the idea of a super rich boyfriend. Heh.
The Undomestic Goddess is not in the same series but is by the same author and I loved it! So much fun. And, very much like me as I can barely boil water. I'd totally recommend Sophie Kinsella. She writes good, fun chick lit.
This group of books, by the way, is in the place of whatever other five books I read and can no longer remember. I think I read these back in June so these'll do, right?

One for the Money - by Janet Evanovich.
This is the last book I read. Again, recommended by C. It was a fun romp about a chick who becomes a bounty hunter. An amusing read.

So, there you go. A rather romantic-chick-lit-happy-ending heavy list, I know. It's why I didn't particularly want to share. Maybe soon I'll sit in front of my bookshelves and pick out my long term faves to tell you about. For now, if you're looking for some books to read out of this list? Go with Night Watch, Ender's Game and the Harry Potter series if you like sci-fi or fantasy. Go for something by Sophie Kinsella if you're into light fluffy girl type fun.

Now, go donate already!

Updated to add: There was a David Eddings book in there somewhere. I just found it in the bottom of my closet.

Hey! Where'd It All Go?


I'm about to try switching my blogger templates to the new widget based template.

I haven't done it before because it always warns me that doing so will mean I'll what I've already changed and seeing how every little tweak I've added I've figured out myself through HOURS of blood, sweat and tears (or, sweat and tears, anyway.)

So if stuff looks weird, it's totally my fault.

I'll probably be more upset about it than you though.

Here goes.

Updated to add: My GOD that was ugly. Not so much the idea of it, but me trying to make it do what I wanted. Never. Again. *shudder*Thank bejebus I was able to revert. I need a drink.

PS Can you find the one thing that somehow made it through the reversion?

PPS Can you find the extra line that I can not get rid of because I swear I never put it there and now it's bugging me way too much?

PPPS. Has anyone out there actually switched?

I So Get This


From the fantabulous Pearls Before Swine.

Monday, 6 August 2007

Pay Day!


First of all, happy BC Day. (Or whatever you might be celebrating this weekend.)

Second of all, it's time. It's pay day!

My timed read is up and now it's time for you to head out to your local charity of choice and donate. I made it through nineteen books, so you can make a charity nineteen dollars richer. Go you!

Or, if it's easier, go ahead and give 'em twenty!

And, enjoy it while you're at it, why don't ya?

*Pats you all on the back for being so nice*
Please don't steal stuff from here, it's not nice. But leave a comment, why don't cha? And drink more water. It's good for you.

P.S. If you think you know me? You probably don't. If you're sure you know me? Pretend you don't. I'll never admit I know what you're talking about anyway.

P.P.S. All this stuff is copyright from then til now (Like, 2006-2016 and then some.) Kay? Kay.