Monday, 31 March 2008

Ur Blog. I Ated It.

I spent this whole weekend trying to catch up with stuff and while I managed to read all y'alls blogs (and man were you busy) I didn't manage to get any of my own posts written.

Nor did I manage to catch up on the work I was supposed to do. Or clean the dust bunnies out from the corners.

I mean, there was napping to be caught up on.

And family to see.

And friends to call.

And The Hills to get addicted to and watch three whole seasons of.*

*What? It's not my fault. Runner girl made me do it.

Saturday, 29 March 2008

Delicate Petal That I Am

I bruise forgetfully.

No, that's not a typo. I have a friend who bruises super easily, (in first year, we used to flick her arms just to see how fast the bruise would come up. . . .we were weird that way.) but that's not my thing.

See, I end up with bruises and have no idea where they came from.

Usually they're on my legs and I just figure that I walked into something (usually the sharp edge of my bed/table/anything) and "walked it off."

But today I woke up with this massive bruise on my hand.

Make an "L" shape with your thumb and first finger, then draw a straight line down both. See where those lines converge? That's where my big ol nasty bruise is. And a bump. That I have no idea how I got.

Really, you'd think that something that made a bruise that big and left a lump would be something you'd remember, no?

My best guess is that I'm either so clumsy that I don't notice all the bazillions of times I run into things, or I'm running into things at work and pretending it didn't happen so as not to draw attention to my lack of co-ordination.

Or something.

It's just so weird. I can never remember the incident that gave me the bruise. Maybe I should start a diary:

Saturday, 4pm: ran into table while reading book on way to couch. Left shin.

Thursday, 27 March 2008

Can't Breathe From the Laughing!

I just couldn't resist sharing this latest fantastic piece of spam with you:

Satisfy her wildest dreams with your new 9 inch bazooka.

Yes, please do. I often dream of bazookas in my bed.

Plus? It's such an awesomely hilarious word to say. BazOOOOOOka.



I know I went on holiday and stuff.

The reason I know this is that I'm in this weird travel daze of kind of jet lag but not really is this reality and what sort of thing.

So no posts that make any sense right now. Probably.


Anyone know what day it is?

Wednesday, 26 March 2008


How was your Easter?

What did I miss?

I have to nap now.

That is all.

Sunday, 16 March 2008

Leaving. On a Jet Plane.

I'm going away for a while.

A few days.

Or possibly a week.

And a half !

There will be relaxing involved, and this here page won't be updated for a wee while.

Anyway, play nice, don't let anything too exciting happen while I'm gone, and keep each other company, would ya?

I'll see you when I'm back.

I promise to take lots of pictures and have lots of naps, kay?

Happy Easter! (And St. Paddy's day, if that's your thing.)

Oh, and please please please? Eat your weight in Cadbury's Creme Eggs for me.


Saturday, 15 March 2008

Mother Nature's Son

I've been singing a lot in my head lately and having song lyrics pop into my head when I least expect them.

Like this photo, for example, I looked up at this big concrete post up the top of a local viewpoint, surrounded by Nature and sunlight and I thought "Mother Nature's Son". A Beatles song I haven't heard or thought of in ages.

It just popped into my head and it works. For me, at least.

So it's funny to me, sometimes, the songs that come into my head, the phrases, the choruses.

But, does anyone know why I've been singing Christmas carols? And, apparently, have been tapping them out at work with my pens and pencils when not paying attention?

Me neither. : )

Friday, 14 March 2008

Well, That Explains It

Hey, remember how I thought that hearing from young buck former co-worker spy guy was pretty randomly timed?

Turns out, not so much.

I was just catching up with my awesome former co-worker girlfriend and getting all gushy about her recent proposal and upcoming wedding. Once I'd hugged her and given her fiance the (highly un-necessary) stamp of approval, we started talking about other stuff.

I mentioned that young buck spy had contacted me and she said "Oh good, he listened!"

Um... huh?

Apparently they were at a spy workshop of some sort and he was eyeing up a pretty young spy so she pointed out that that lady was married and suggested he call. Or something.

Not quite as flattering as the random "thinking of you".

Thursday, 13 March 2008


I don't know how to start this post. It's about physical attraction, which seems to me right now, a very superficial thing to talk about, but bear with me, I need to talk.

Once upon a time when I first discovered the internet I decided to meet up with a local fellow I had met in a "chat room". (I'm putting it in quotations because I don't really know what it was, it was years ago, really, probably close to 10) We'd talked a few times, nothing overtly sexual and I was curious to meet someone I'd only known on line.

He'd sent me a picture so I knew, or thought I knew, what he looked like, but when we met up I was surprised, and somewhat disappointed to see that he didn't match up with what I'd thought. (He also made some smart-ass comment about how my legs were shaved and he "knew what that meant" at which point I told him I really had to be going and that was that. I vowed I'd never meet someone in real life that I'd met on the internet again. But I digress.)

That same year I became very good friends with some other folks from the same chat area. After we'd talked for ages, they sent me photos (two of them ended up getting married) and it was, again, somehow disappointing when their photos didn't match up with the image of them I'd had in my mind.

It's like when you read and love a book and then go to see the movie version and the actors are all wrong. It's disappointing and things don't feel the same after.

The same thing has happened to me a few times since. When I saw Smith again for the first time after we first got together he didn't seem quite how I'd remembered. We'd talked so much on the phone and on email but somehow he didn't match up to the image I'd stored in my head of him. It took me a while to re-adjust.

I think he could sense something was up, he kept on asking me what I thought of him and how he looked, and were there any flaws I saw in him? Maybe I was looking at him differently and he noticed. Or maybe he was looking at me, not seeing the person he remembered and wondered if I felt the same way. Who knows.

I also remember seeing one of my Exes naked in the day light for the first time. I'd known he was a bigger fellow, but seeing his body exposed for the first time surprised me. It didn't fit with the image of him I'd had in my head. I knew, logically, that I should feel the same way about him and be attracted to him the same amount, but something shifted and I found myself less physically attracted to him. It wasn't a nice feeling for me and left me feeling as if I was this horribly shallow person who couldn't or wouldn't see through the flesh to the lover underneath it all. But it felt more instinctual than anything. It just happened. And it disappointed me.

More recently, I've had a similar experience with one of the guys I'm not dating. He's always appeared a certain way, but I got a glimpse the other day of what he "really" looks like. And it didn't mesh with the image of him I'd built up in my head.

So what is it with physical attraction? Is it learned? Can you grow to be attracted to someone you didn't used to be? Can you grow out of being attracted to someone?

I know with a lot of my friends, the more I know them, the more I think "damn, they're beautiful." And, really, when you get down to it, we're all beautiful when our souls shine through. But there is, especially with someone you're considering being in a relationship with, that initial physical attraction thing that guides things.

It's hardest, I think, to meet someone after you've talked to them on line or on the phone because they most likely won't look how you think. And it's also hard to be with someone long distance and only see them every so often because your mind's eye can only remember so accurately. But, apparently, it's hard too, to meet someone and eventually discover that they don't look the way you thought they looked, under all those layers. And, while you may not believe me, men hide under layers too. Ball caps, beards... (I remember when DD came back from his nine months away. He'd grown a beard and I knew things had changed. I knew it wasn't going to work. I knew he had something to hide, or was hiding from something.)

And, then, I always wonder, what about those times when you're just attracted magnetically to the person and you only realize later, that there's not really any "real" reason you should be.

Daniel Lapp. Case in point.

Physical attraction.

I'll never figure it out.

Wednesday, 12 March 2008

Razor of Mine

I realized the other week that I was on my last razor blade. And had been for a while.

I couldn't find the blades at all in the grocery store until I was at the checkout. Apparently they have to keep them behind the service desk counter because they're such a high theft item.

Go figure.

I didn't find my blades in my next couple of trips into local pharmacies, partly because I couldn't remember what they were called and holy smokes there are, like, four hundred to choose from, so I hauled myself out to Costco to get some on the cheap.

(Oh, and by the way? I saw Geoff Courtnall and his son at Costco. Yes, I nearly fainted thank you very much.)

But anyway, Costco didn't have my blades either so on the way home I stopped at the bestest, my most favouritest store ever, London Drugs. Ladies, you know how wonderful this place is, no?

And I stood there. In the aisle of razors. And I couldn't see my friggin blades. Not only that, but I couldn't see my friggin razor. I stared and I stared. I even double checked the name I'd written down, but nope.

Apparently they stopped making my razors and nobody told me. Big meanies.

So then the next debate was what to buy next. After some more staring and head scratching, I decided to do the wise thing and get the razor that had the cheapest refill (guys, seriously, how do you let them make you pay so much for these things?) and I ended up with the one with the soap surrounding thing.

This one, which has the rediculously awesome name of "Intuition." Because sometimes? Your razor just *knows*.

Or something.

The funniest thing about this weird soap razor blade combo is that I can't feel the blade. Maybe I've never been supposed to feel the blade, but I kind of like to. Is that weird? I dunno. But yes. I had to buy a new razor, when all I wanted was a refill.

And so I've been singing the Foo Fighters' song Razor all week now. And I think you should too:

Foo Fighters - Razor

And that, ladies and gentlemen, is how you make a post.... out of nothing at all. Out of nothing at all.

Tuesday, 11 March 2008

Couched, Couch·ing, Couch·es

V. tr. : To word in a certain manner; phrase: couched their protests in diplomatic language.

Do you have any idea how much we do that? Pretty up what we're going to say in an attempt to make it, I don't know, hurt less?

I'm sorry, but...

I hate to have to tell you, but...

Can I ask you something?

I don't mean to be rude, but...

Can I ask you a personal question?

Don't take this the wrong way, but...

I know it's none of my business, but...

Sometimes, maybe it's necessary, and sometimes it helps make something difficult a little more polite, but sometimes I think people use these openers as an excuse to say something they really just shouldn't say at all.

I mean, really, "I hate to be rude..."? Okay, then don't.

Easy fix.

Or am I just over-sensitive?

Monday, 10 March 2008

The Time Change Makes Me Unsmart

Uttered by me this afternoon: Why is the mall closed? It's FIVE THIRTY? How did that happen...oh... right. Time change.

Uttered by me this evening: It's ten o'clock already? But! Oh. Right. Time change.

What will be uttered by me tomorrow morning: What the (bleeped out)? There is no way it's morning. (Bleep)ing time change.

Uttered by my brother yesterday morning: What's up with the time? The ships left the harbour at totally the wrong time today, what's up with that? (Um, dude? Time change.) How he missed it will forever be a mystery to me. A wonderfully amusing mystery.

Uttered by my brain on my way home last night: Hmmm, that sign hasn't adjusted their flashing clock sign yet, it's actually half past twelve. (Five minutes later) And, hey, look at that gas station, they didn't change their clock yet either. (Ten minutes pass) Wow, there's another gas station that hasn't changed their clock. (Nearly home now) This is crazy, the gas stations are all at 11:39 when they should be at 12:19, I can't believe they all (pause) (brain clicks into gear). Oh, that's not saying 11:39, it's the gas price; 113.9. I hang my head in shame.

Still not a fan of the whole time change thing

And Then There Were Three?

OK. Let me explain how I came to be shaking my head at the turn of events this weekend.

The turn of events that saw me hanging out with three separate single guys.

In one weekend.


Wait...maybe it should be "turns of events". Does that make more sense? Feel free to use the phrasing that makes most sense to you, nothing much is making sense to me at the moment.

So, first of all it's Friday (no, not today, I do know that much) and after the week we've had at work we decide it's really quite necessary that we all go out to a pub to relax. And possibly drink. And eat cheesecake. And nachos.

And I thought I'd email young buck former co-worker spy guy and let him know that we were going if he wanted to join us. I know he'd previously said he'd much rather just hang out with me instead of having to get to know my co-workers, but I figured I'd ask anyway. So I did, and he said he'd meet us there. (Which, I have to say is very brave of him, much braver than I'd be.)

The way things ended up, he arrived last, just as our two youngest spies were arriving and so he ended up a couple of people away from me. He was very friendly to the two (younger, pretty) spies and I just kind of let him do his own thing. It was hard trying to join in to their conversation partly because we were cracking ourselves up down at my end of the table and partly because whenever I turned to join the conversation the three of them were having it seemed too deep for a Friday afternoon over beers. So, we didn't end up chatting much and I'm realizing now he must think I blew him off at the end of the evening.

As we were all heading home he was checking in with his friends to see if they wanted to go to a hockey game and he asked if anyone wanted to go, and even though he was looking right at me with these big puppy dog eyes, I didn't really clue in and said, nah, I was heading home to the couch. (I know, I'm lame, but dudes? Such a long week. Plus, I dunno, guess I just wasn't that interested)

In all fairness to him, he ended up being really friendly to two complete strangers and talking to them when no one else really was, so he's a good guy for that. And, I said to my friend who was with us that I can see this guy being a really attractive older man. I'm not sure how to explain that except to say that I can imagine running into him when he's 40 or 50 (etc.) and thinking "damn, he aged well, now he's HOT!" You know how some guys do that? Improve with age. (Not that he's bad to start with, I'm just saying... he's going to grow into his face well.) Good lord that sounds weird, but I know exactly what I mean.

So that was Friday.

Not mentioning the super adorable / hot guy at work coming up to me and reaching out to wipe the pen mark off my chin. Um, hello? Are you trying to make me faint? (Don't get excited, he's got a girlfriend. Long term. No possibility there.)

And then on Saturday morning, runner guy called me and we went out for breakfast. (Oh, Bacon, how I love thee) We had a good time and hung out together for a while before we both had to move on to other things. I'm still not sure how I feel about him, but we get along well and there's no rush. (Right?) (Right.)

Which leads us, chronologically speaking, to Sunday night when Spy Girl (she who set me up with runner guy, remember?) called me up and said she was having some friends over for dinner if I wanted to join. "Did I mention one of them is a single guy?" she asked.

"I'll be there in five minutes."

I wasn't really going to meet this guy, but I wasn't going not to, if that makes sense. Turns out it was her friend that she'd mentioned before, a nice, if somewhat shy guy and she figured the two of us should meet.

I was quite proud of myself, in all honesty, because I didn't think too much about it. I thought "Someone will cook me dinner (and I know Spy Girl's a good cook) and I like hanging out with her and maybe this guy will be nice and if not I'll get out of the house and have some yummy dinner." Nothing to lose, right?

I guess at some point after I left, either Spy Girl gave him my email or he asked her for it and he sent me an email and we've chatted a few times since.

Now let's re-cap and re-evaluate, shall we? I've hung out a few times with runner guy. I've hung out (with a group) with spy guy once (and haven't heard from him since even though I emailed to say it was nice to see him and stuff) and I've met Spy Girl's "sweet but shy" friend.

It's a very bizarre sensation for me to 1. be talking to more than one guy at once, even if I'm not "dating" any of them and 2. to not be totally spazzy and obsessing about what it all means. (Well, most of the time, anyway) This is all, all new and I have no idea how any of it is going to turn out. If it's going to turn out at all. Maybe I'm just meeting new people and making new friends.

There's nothing wrong with that. At all.

Now, if only I could keep them all out of my dreams. (Silly subconscious)

Saturday, 8 March 2008

Oh Pig.

You ever have days like this?


Friday, 7 March 2008

I May Have Drooled

Here's what I decided after watching the world go by while on the treadmill yesterday:

The only thing more attractive than a good looking guy in a well tailored suit...

is a good looking guy (with his suit jacket off) who is taking off his tie.

Oh. My.

Thursday, 6 March 2008

I Could Be Arrested For Dumb...ery

So I was texting* back and forth with runner guy when he asked what I was doing after the gym.

"Not much... you?" I (oh so very) nearly texted back.

Do you see where things could have gone oh so very wrong?

Today's lesson, boys and girls? Grammar.

It matters.

*I know, texting is kind of an odd way to communicate, but I'm not a big fan of talking to people on their cell phones. Forgive me.

Wednesday, 5 March 2008

Absolutely Everything Depends on Your Answers!*

OK, I want you to think about this for a while, or maybe just go with your gut instinct, but however you do it, answer me the following:

If you were dying of some medical disease/illness/injury/whatever, where would you go and who would you have treat you?

Princeton-Plainsboro Teaching Hospital where House and team will diagnose whatever bizarre thing you have wrong with you?

The ER in Chicago, where the Doctors used to be seriously hot but I haven't tuned in in years so have no idea who's still there?

Sacred Heart, where JD and Turk will cheer you up while you laugh at Dr. Cox and wait for Ted and company to sing?

Or Seattle Grace, where the top, hunky surgeons will fix you right up while working through their own stuff?

Me? I'm totally going to Seattle Grace, not just because it's the closest, but so that Derek and Karev are more than welcome to fix whatever is wrong with me.... and then some!

*Or possibly nothing, but that doesn't sound quite so dramatic now, does it?

Tuesday, 4 March 2008


Cheating, cheating, cheating, cheating, cheating.

I used to have a really clear understanding of what cheating romantically meant; a husband (or wife, I suppose) who went and found a lover and had sexual relations with them over and over until either the wife found out, or the husband asked for a divorce.

If only it were that simple.

Cheating, in my mind, isn't quite as clear. It's something that hovers in a grey area that maybe changes with each person's moral code. Not sure what I mean? Me neither.

I've met a few people who were in a relationship when they met someone else. Having met this person, and having felt a strong connection to them, they've ended the relationship they were in to be with this person. Cheating? Maybe.

I've had dates with guys who've then told me "well, really I shouldn't see you any more because I have a girlfriend." Cheating? Hell yes.

I've had a relationship that started with cheating, I've had a relationship that I wish had ended when there was cheating, and I've had a relationship that I would never have guessed involved cheating, but I'd bet you dollars to donuts now that it did.

At some point in the past I remember having a conversation about flirting while in a relationship. I suggested it was a form of cheating and that I didn't like it. I think the counter-argument was something along the lines of "it's flattering and fun and harmless."

Not for everyone.

I've never understood how you could be in a relationship and meet someone else and like them so much you have to end your first relationship to be with them.

If your connection with your partner isn't that strong, why are you still with them? Convenience? And if your connection with your partner is that strong, why are you hanging out with people enough to find them attractive?

I know, I know, I'm oversimplifying, that's what you'll tell me, but isn't right right and wrong wrong?

I guess the way I see it is that if you're with someone, you're with them. And until you decide you no longer want to be with them, you don't open yourself up to the possibility of even considering someone else. You don't think about how charming the guy in your office is. You don't wonder what it'd be like to spend more time with that funny girl from your gym.

I think if you're in a relationship and you find yourself starting to focus less on how much you enjoy being in that relationship it's time to think about leaving. I don't think you get to stay in it until you find someone better and then leave.

I'm ranting, aren't I? I can tell. What's my point, me?

I don't want to be in a relationship again where I know the person might just up and move on if he suddenly met his soul mate, or suddenly realized he had a huge connection with the girl next door. I don't want to have the thought in the back of my mind that he's hovering, happy, but keeping his antennae up "just in case".

And sure, maybe sometimes it just happens. Maybe sometimes it's the tail end of an already doomed relationship and the new person just shows up and seems like a perfect reason to end things and move on. But I can't quite wrap my head around how that's not cheating. So maybe it is.

And maybe it's cheating when you never quite get over your ex, and never quite let her go.

I dunno. Just churning through the thoughts. Mulling over the past, wondering about the future.

You know how it is.

Added later: No, none of the people I'm not dating have cheated on me, don't worry.

Monday, 3 March 2008

Impure Thoughts

I'm going to put this politely.

I think this year's crop of guys on American Idol is quite full of dishy dudes.

And that's all I'll say about that.

Dish. y.

Sunday, 2 March 2008


I think the hardest thing about starting a new relationship for me is the thinking.

The thinking that goes on in my head all the time. Even if I don't want it to. Even if I don't care.

I can't seem to meet a guy without thinking about him. Thinking and wondering if he's someone I want to be in a relationship with. Thinking about what that relationship would look like or what it would mean and where would we be five years from now anyway?

And the thinking gets worse because I start thinking on behalf of the other person. I start to make up reasons they haven't called when I thought they might or why they haven't made the time to see me when I'd assumed they would. But I still think maybe I'm right, even if I have no basis to think so other than the thoughts my own brain has come up with.

I think too much and I get myself all worked up into knots over things that may or may not be real. About relationships I may or may not want to be in.

About relationships that probably don't even exist yet.

There's just too much thinking and not enough "not caring." Not enough waiting and seeing. I can talk the talk, but my brain still thinks. Some days worse than others, of course, but still. I'd like to turn my brain into a Library zone and put up signs saying "Shhhhh. No talking."

It's easier just being single and not dealing with guys or dating or not dating. It's easier, that's for sure.

Footnote: Don't worry too much, I'm kind of just ranting out loud.

Saturday, 1 March 2008


So I woke up this morning (not curled up with my laptop but thank you for asking) and thought "hmmm, that feels like a Spring morning blowing through my window"

You know, fresh and chilly without being cold and biting? The cold air has just a little bit of warmth to it?

And then my brain said "Yep. Happy March"

So, Happy March y'all.

I've got to go get used to my new keyboard now.

It clicks funny.
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, 2006-2019 and then some.) Kay? Kay.