When Living Alone Becomes Tricky Part 318

When you see a big spider (and by big, I mean, big enough that when I saw it out of the corner of my eye I wondered if it was a mouse) running across your living room floor you can't just leave it.

You can't just leave it because if you leave it, you won't know where it is and then how are you supposed to fall asleep that night and what if it just hangs out for days and days crawling over stuff?

And you can't grab something to squish it because you can't stand that sound and then you'd have to get rid of the dead spider ick anyway, plus it's bad luck, and, most importantly it's mean.

So because you live alone, you can't call on your roommate or boyfriend or parental unit to "deal with it" and have to make the decision on how to deal with it on your own.

And, since you HAVE to get the thing out of your apartment in some way (because locking yourself in your bedroom isn't going to solve the problem of getting up in the morning and wondering where it is) you have to decide what to do.

So you go and get your Swiffer broom and you start to chase the fellow (or lady, I didn't ask it) with the broom and eventually, after trying to escape (which causes a few jumpy jump jumps and cringes on your part) he decides to just hang on to the broom, which allows you to open your apartment door (yes, half-naked in your dressing gown, because you didn't think you'd have to open the door to anyone, or, um for any reason) and shake him off outside.

Except that maybe he doesn't want to let go. No matter how hard you shake and tap. And then you hear the neighbours opening their door and realize this is going to look really really weird, maybe even weirder than last time you did something like this, and just before you decide to chuck the whole Swiffer broom into the hall and shut the door, the spider decides to jump off. Finally.

And then you close the door and hope he decides to just really not come back (no offense Mister/Mrs Spider of Unusual Size) and you actually feel kind of proud of yourself for dealing with it all. by. yourself.

But still.

*mini shiver*

Truth

I don't like white chocolate.

I loooooooove milk chocolate, I like dark chocolate, but I don't like white chocolate. I won't eat it. In fact, I think it's kind of yucky.

When I eat a Kinder Egg? I don't even like that white chocolatey stuff in there.

Know what else?

I don't even think white chocolate should be called chocolate!

There, I've said it.

Thanks for letting me get that off my chest.

Huh

I've mentioned it a couple of times here before how sometimes the littlest things make me feel suddenly very single and sad. (And yes, haven't there been a lot of posts lately about being single? Hmmm, something for me to ponder perhaps?)

A co-worker spy friend of mine came running into our staff-cave at lunch yesterday all excited because she'd just heard that her (new) husband and her's offer on a house had been accepted.

And as happy as I was for them, I all of a sudden felt like some kind of "Game of Grownup" failure.

No new house with my husband for me.

Um, in fact, no boyfriend, rented apartment.

And on most days that's just fine, and on many days it's better than fine, yesterday for a couple of hours it wasn't.

Which isn't a nice feeling.

But don't worry. My apartment and singleness and I are just fine.

Arf

I have always wanted a dog. Always.

I remember being so excited when a puppy followed my brother home one day because I thought for sure we'd get to keep it. And I remember crying when my brother found the puppy's owners because even though I knew those kids would be happy that their puppy was back, I was still sad that the puppy didn't get to be ours. I mean, come on, he came home with my brother. All by himself!

My neighbours had dogs when I was growing up. Dogs that I remember as sweet old things who let me pet them and snuggle them whenever I could. And dogs that I remember being sad when they died.

I had friends who had dogs and part of what I liked about going over to play at their houses was getting to play with, and snuggle with, their dogs.

I talk to strangers' dogs. I try to talk to the strangers too, so as not to appear rude, but dogs don't mind if you say hello and most of them will give you a friendly wag of their tail and say "hi" in their own doggie way.

I've always liked dogs. And dogs have always liked me too. I'm not allowed to have a dog in the apartment I'm currently living in, but I know that when I (eventually) move, I'll be looking for a place that allows pets.

But I know that having a dog is probably not all I've imagined it to be. I know that it won't always be perfect, and so, knowing that one day I'm going to be a dog owner, what do you think I need to know, or what should I be aware of. For those of you who have, or have had a dog, what could you tell me that might make me change my mind (or at least have a good hard think about it)? Shedding? Medical expenses? Walks in the pouring rain? Just what is there about possible future dog ownership that I need to know?

An(other) Observation

It takes a real man to watch Dancing With the Stars** while on the treadmill T.V.* at the gym.


*Or should that be T.V. treadmill?

**Wait, maybe it was So You Think You Can Dance Canada...hmmm...either way...

An Observation

Um, brrr!

Weird Thought of the Day

When I was at the dentist the other day, I had a rather morbid, but kind of interesting thought.

Who would call all these people and tell them they no longer needed to book me for my appointments were I to.... um... no longer be, uh... around?

I mean, really. Would my parents have to call my dentist and doctor and hairdresser and and and and?

Should I be leaving them a list, just in case?

Man, that's a depressingly weird thought to have had, eh?

But still, it's one of the many strange thoughts you have when you're single.

(Or maybe just one of the many strange thoughts *I* have while single?)

No More Harshing my Mellow

It's been a bumpy couple of months around here (work wise) but I feel that with a few wise decisions on my part (the biggest one, to be honest, being "I will not complain about work and work situations") and a slight reduction in the amount of spy work coming my way in the next little while I feel like things are settling down. Mellowing out. Smoothing. Easing.

And it's a nice feeling.

I did find certain things that helped bring down my level of "Aaaaa!" -ness, and I'm wondering what you guys do when you need to de-stress. Do you eat better? Worse? Do you shop? Meditate? Go for a run? Call a friend? Watch a bad (ie. good) movie? Change your thinking? Move to another country?

How do you survive those bumpy work (or life) times?

Blech

I just need you all to know that I really hate the fluoride sloshy around in your mouth for a minute (twice!) thing.

Hate, hate, hate, with shivers and just ick.

Smrt!

I was just thinking to myself (as I dug into a kiwi fruit) for the eight hundredth time that I don't know why I love fruit so much, but am not a huge fan of vegetables.

When suddenly it hit me. The answer (not the kiwi).

The answer that had been evading me for so long.

I love fruit because they're sweet.

Huh.

And then I felt kind of dumb for not realizing that before, so I decided to share my kind of dumbness feeling with you. Because I know you'll still love me.

Right?

Tell Me This...

If we're not supposed to judge a book by its cover, why do we spend so much time making ourselves look as attractive as possible?

Do guys really like the whole very made up, swanky (or revealing) clothes and styled hair?

And guys, I don't know what the equivalent is for us women...men wearing suits? Hair like Dr. McDreamy? I don't know, feel free to tell me.

I don't know, I'm just curious. Because part of me, when I see women all makeup-ed and in their best clothes, carrying their expensive purses with their styled hair, cringes, but another part of me feels like I let myself down by not presenting myself as well as they do.

Maybe I should be getting up each morning and spending the hour (or more) I know some women do.

So, really, how much is too much and how much is too little? (Because I've seen makeover shows and know that some women take "minimal makeup and hair" a little too far.)

Maybe it's a personality thing. Maybe I'm just not a "big hair and makeup" kind of gal.

So we're not supposed to judge a book by it's cover, I know that. . . but knowing that people do at least look at covers, how do I know if I'm making mine. . . shiny enough.

Because sometimes I think I'm not.

And then other times I just don't think it matters.

But maybe it should.

Happy

Someone I love very much is turning five this weekend, which not only a) blows my mind and b) makes me happy, but also makes me think back on some of the birthday parties I had and went to growing up.

I remember the one where we all had to dress up in the colours of Smarties and the cake was covered with Smarties (which, for all you who live in the US of A, are these chocolate delights, not these, which are *actually* called Rockets. [I'm just saying].)

And I remember another where I was wearing a dress that was super long and got caught on the stool I was sitting on, tipping me right over. (Whoops!)

Or the time I went to a birthday party and was told that relish (which I'd never tried before) was cut up frogs. (Didn't try relish for years after that.)

I don't really remember what we did at these parties, I just remembered it was fun to dress up, eat cake, and spend time with your friends. Oh, and the presents were nice too.

What's your favourite growing up birthday party memory?

Learned the Hard Way

Do you know what doesn't mix well with watching old episodes of Grey's Anatomy where things get particularly gory and icky?


Eating sushi.

(It's just a little to close for comfort....*shudder*)





N.B. This probably goes for most medical dramas.

Ta Da!

So, do you remember how I had a bunch of (spy work) stuff that I brought home to do last weekend? And how it was important and had to get done and all that?

Well, I brought that stuff home again this weekend (plus some more, because spy work's like that) and do you want to know what I managed to do this weekend?

Are you ready? I'm happy to announce that I managed to (drum roll please) . . .

clean my stove rings!

Um. Wait. That's not what was supposed to happen.

Curses.

Procrastination wins again.*



*To be fair, I did a bit of the work. Just not as much as I might have. sigh.

Here's a Question for You

What do you do with a coloured colouring book?

Because I've been colouring.*

And I like it.

It's relaxing, I don't have to think (or, I can purposely not think because I have to focus on the colouring) and it makes a pretty thing when I'm done.

But what am I supposed to do with the book when I'm done?

It doesn't seem right to just recycle it, but it's not something I feel the need to keep.

So. What do you do with a coloured colouring book?




* "Grown up" colouring mind you, but colouring nonetheless. (I started with these from Yoga Journal and liked them so looked around and got some more!)

Flow

I'm not good at going with the flow.

But I'm trying to be.

I'm learning to be.

It seems counter-intuitive, to have to work at it. You shouldn't have to *work* at going with the flow. But I do. I am.

Working at it, that is.

Especially when it comes to guys. Relationships. Situations.

From the first moment (like, before the first commercial break in a sitcom or the film title comes up in a movie, the early early moments where nothing much has happened but you're starting to be interested) I want to know. I want to know if, when, why, what, how much have you got? (Sorry, my mind slipped away there for a second.) I want it all spread out before me, twists, turns and all so I can decide if it's worth the risk. And I think that some of the choices I made in previous relationships have made me more wary, less trusting of my "trust your gut" feelings.

But I do need to learn. To learn to go with the flow. To relax. To not take everything so seriously all the time. To not have to make decisions immediately. To take the time to wait and figure it out. Or, to let it figure itself out.

So I'm trying to get better at going with the flow.

Which involves a lot of breathing and doing other things and talking to people who remind me to not worry so much and to not have to have it all figured out right this instant.

I might not be a natural at going with the flow, but I'm going to keep on trying to get better at it.

They say practice makes perfect, right?

Bulletin

This just in: I love the sun and sunny days are awesome!

Thought Bubble

... if I post today, I will have been unofficially Nablopomo-ing for 16 days. I can't quite figure out if I'm doing this on purpose or not.

PS. I love Pig (he says what I'm thinking in my head!) Click on cartoon to big-ify. Totally worth it.

Seriously.

Guys?

This whole "don't call for three days after a date" thing?

All it does is give me the distinct impression that you're not interested in seeing me again or talking with me any more. Seriously.

Oh, and it annoys me. So there is that too. (Maybe that's what you're aiming for?)

But, really, all in all, I'm assuming that if that annoying me and turning me off isn't your plan, and so either you're trying to live up to some guy code or something. But, let me tell you; if you're trying to make me more interested in you by purposely waiting before you call me after a date? You're going about it very much the wrong way.

Seriously.

Really very much the wrong track.

Glurb*

I had something to say but then I sat down and whatever it was went out of my brain.

So, instead, I think we should just rejoice at the fact that it's Friday and I'm going to bed as early as possible tonight.

Yes, I do live a wild and crazy life, it's true!**




*This is the sound my brain is making when I try to think right now.



**This is actually not true. Tricky, huh?

Post

There's supposed to be a post here, but there's not because I kind of fell asleep a little at work today (ok, yesterday, by the time I post this) and can't wake up enough this evening (well, yesterday evening actually) to write out a post. So, there's no post here really.

But, I decided to put a photo up so at least you'd have something to look at and I was looking through my old(er) flickr photos and I found this one, which is called "Post" and I thought that was kind of funny because I was looking for a photo for a post about there not being a post and the photo was called post, even though I don't see an actual post in the photo and did I mention I didn't get any sleep at all last night?

Ok, so yeah. No post here. Not sure if I'll be awake enough for one tomorrow either.

I need to go to sleep. Why must I be awake?

Help Wanted. Apply Within.

I need a new name.

Not for me. Not for this site.

Not even for Huck (although I think maybe the name I dreamed for him might have been Michael or Mark. I think he could get away with being a Mark in real life, actually, but that's not the point of this now rambling post.)

I need a new name for the next guy I start to date.

I mean, not that there is a guy, I'm not saying that. (Although I'm not not saying that either, I'm just, well, anyway, stop looking at me like that I'm not saying anything!)

Anyway, at some point I'll have to meet someone and start dating them, right? I can't remain single for too long of a stretch (or else what would I write blog posts about?) and so if and when I do start to date someone, wouldn't it be nice if he already had a name and I didn't have to try to come up with one that made sense or whatever? (Because I've got to be honest, when I talk to people who know me both here and in real life [like B and S, who I got to hang out with this weekend, HI GUYS!] I start to get confused with who I named so and so and what's his name and why did I ever call him that anyway oh right, but really my brain can't hold too much more bizarre stuff in there holy smokes ramble much today?)

And therefore (yay, abrubt break!) I'd like some ideas from you in terms of naming my next possible .... (what do you call a guy you're dating? not "boyfriend" so, what? datee?) beau.

Make me proud y'all!

Remembrance

Wilfred Owen

Dulce Et Decorum Est

Bent double, like old beggars under sacks,
Knock-kneed, coughing like hags, we cursed through sludge,
Till on the haunting flares we turned our backs
And towards our distant rest began to trudge.
Men marched asleep. Many had lost their boots
But limped on, blood-shod. All went lame; all blind;
Drunk with fatigue; deaf even to the hoots
Of disappointed shells that dropped behind.

GAS! Gas! Quick, boys!-- An ecstasy of fumbling,
Fitting the clumsy helmets just in time;
But someone still was yelling out and stumbling
And floundering like a man in fire or lime.--
Dim, through the misty panes and thick green light
As under a green sea, I saw him drowning.

In all my dreams, before my helpless sight,
He plunges at me, guttering, choking, drowning.

If in some smothering dreams you too could pace
Behind the wagon that we flung him in,
And watch the white eyes writhing in his face,
His hanging face, like a devil's sick of sin;
If you could hear, at every jolt, the blood
Come gargling from the froth-corrupted lungs,
Obscene as cancer, bitter as the cud
Of vile, incurable sores on innocent tongues,--
My friend, you would not tell with such high zest
To children ardent for some desperate glory,
The old Lie: Dulce et decorum est
Pro patria mori.

Procrasti-Queen!

Do you want to know how I know I had a lot I was supposed had to do this weekend?

Because I decided it was of utmost importance that instead of doing all the work I brought home I should clean out all the boxes in my closet and organize all the craft supplies in said boxes and should probably shred old documents while I'm at it, and oh, wouldn't it be a good idea to sort through my wardrobe too and what other parts of my apartment need a good deep cleaning ?

Sigh.

Break

I don't actually remember how I found this but man, oh man, did it ever give me a good giggle when I was ultra stressed out one night last week:


I Wanna Go To The Aquarium

Updated to add: AHA! My brain wins! T'was Sundry from whence the awesomeness was first ..uh... foundedeth?

Yes We Can.

I can not get this out of my head and I'm feeling so moved and inspired by it.

I transcribed the lyrics/words and every time Obama talks about America or Americans, I just hear "world". Because, really, when you get right down to it, we're all one.

I hope these words touch you in some way too:

It was a creed written into the founding documents that declared the destiny of a nation.

Yes we can.

It was whispered by slaves and abolitionists as they blazed a trail toward freedom through the darkest of nights.

Yes we can.

It was sung by immigrants as they struck out from distant shores and pioneers who pushed westward against an unforgiving wilderness.

Yes we can.

It was the call of workers who organized; women who reached for the ballot; a President who chose the moon as our new frontier; and a King who took us to the mountaintop and pointed the way to the Promised Land. Yes we can to justice and equality.

Yes we can.

Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity. Yes we can to opportunity and prosperity.

Yes we can heal this nation.

Yes we can repair this world. Yes we can.

Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can.

We know the battle ahead will be long, but always remember that no matter what obstacles stand in our way, nothing can stand in the way of the power of millions of voices calling for change.

We have been told we cannot do this by a chorus of cynics who will only grow louder and more dissonant in the weeks to come. We've been asked to pause for a reality check. We've been warned against offering the people of this nation false hope.

But in the unlikely story that is America, there has never been anything false about hope.

The hopes of the little girl who goes to the public school in Dillon are the same as the dreams of the boy who learns on the streets of L.A.

We will remember that there’s something happening in America. That we are not as divided as our politics suggest. That we are one people. That we are one nation. And together we will begin the next great chapter in the American story with three words that will ring from coast to coast, from sea to shining sea; Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can. Yes we can.

Amen.

Strange But True

So I was thinking about Huck the other day.

Um, and a few days before that too. (So sue me, he's hot and therefore fun to think about!)

Oh, and, before I forget? I had a half-dreaming-half-awake one morning thought about his blog name and came up with a brilliant new name for him but all I can remember is that I thought "Whenever I hear 'Huck', I think of Huckleberry Finn and that makes me think of Mark Twain and that makes me think of [ ] so I should re-name him [ ] on my blog. Except, I can't remember the rest of what I thought. But it was good at the time.

Awww, nuts, now I forgot what I was going to say.... hang on...

Oh, right. I've been thinking about Huck lately. Maybe he's my default crush, you know? Like, when I have no other crush, I go back to thinking about him and how dreamy he is and how perfect we'd be together in my happy dream world. That kind of thing.

Then I had a completely unrelated conversation with my Mom where she said something about how sometimes you have to hear directly that you're not going to get the thing you want so that you can mourn the loss of it and move on.

And then it struck me that before I can completely, utterly, totally give up on Huck and I having a shot at happily ever after, I should get that direct "no" from him. I should allow him to say straight to me that he doesn't want to date me or isn't interested or whatever it might be, instead of just assuming that because he didn't call me when I left him a note with my number on it and didn't ask our mutual friend for information about me he's not interested.

I guess it's like I almost need that last hope squashed so that I can, as my Mom put it, mourn the loss of what my dreamy dream imagination dreamed up for the two of us.

So, I guess, at some point, I'm going to try to work up the nerve to straight up ask him out, to his face, and have him either turn me down then or turn me down after a cup of coffee. (Or, you know, ask me to marry him after we have our whirlwhind romance, right?) (Ahem)

I don't know if I'm getting across quite what I'm thinking/feeling here. I just know it makes sense in my head (and heart) right now, so we'll see what happens.

I mean, really, I still have to actually a) run into him, b) be brave enough to talk to him, and c) ask him on a sort of date type thing while hoping he's still not dating anyone and all.

Now, if only I could remember the awesome name I came up with for him!

Ironic Much?

Anyone remember Runner Girl's shy but sweet friend?

You know, the guy Runner Girl thought I should date but it just kind of didn't happen and then I never heard from him again?

Yeah, so I was catching up with Runner Girl the other day and asked how he was doing and RG told me that he's doing really well dating this great girl he met on eHarmony.

Which kind of made me snort. Considering.

Insert Witty Title Here*

So. Bird.

Again.

Sort of.

Allow me to explain...

See, we're both part of a group that's been meeting weekly in order to organize ourselves for something that we put on a couple of weekends ago. So on our last meeting before the big event, I decided to be mature (or something) and ask Bird for a few minutes of his time before he left. You know, instead of letting him just ignore me and then ignoring the ignoring.

So we sat down and I told him that I wanted to clear the air and that while I wished him well and cared about him as a person I felt let down and didn't trust him as a friend or anything beyond that anymore.

And while I'd hoped he'd say something, maybe even apologize, he didn't. And that's just fine. At least I feel I did my part and said what I wanted to say, calmly and honestly.

Fast forward to this weekend, when I ran into that girl. Remember that girl? The one who was seeing Bird but didn't mention it to me, or whatever? Yeah.

And she pulled me aside and apologized. Told me her side of things and, well, whether I trust her completely in what she's saying or not, I appreciate her taking the time and making the effort to talk to me about things. That's mature and must have taken some guts to do.

So in some way I'm still processing, but I guess it's kind of all come full circle, or has gotten its closure or something.

*shrug*

Just thought y'all deserved to hear the latest. As un-drama filled as it might be!



*No, seriously, let's hear your best titles for this post!

Tears of Joy

And a heart filled with hope for what will be.

Well done America. Well done.



Yes We Can - Barack Obama Music Video

Updated with a PS:  I know not everyone is pleased with the results of this election and I know some of my readers (read: friends) may be upset because politics are personal and I understand that.  I try *not* to talk about politics here (or religion for that matter) but to not talk about this historic moment would feel false to me.  So, if I'm rubbing you the wrong way, I apologize.  

Know How Sometimes a Song Just Gets Inside You?

Yeah, this one's being played over and over and over, both in my head and on my stereo.


John Mayer - Dreaming With A Broken Heart

And not because I have a broken heart or anything. I'm not even that sad right now and some people may feel this is a sad song. It's just sitting so very perfectly with me right now. Songs just do that every once in a while. And when they do? I like to share.

This song's been a favourite of mine ever since this:


Dreaming With A Broken Heart - SYTYCD

Dance, dance, dance, dance, dance. I love you.



PS To my 'Merican friends: Good luck with your election today.

Seasonal Thoughts

We're heading into a season that has us remembering.

This weekend many cultures around the world celebrated, or, better put, remembered those who have passed before us. Taking time to remember the spirits, and souls of our loved ones who are no longer with us.

Next week, some of us will take time to remember the sacrifices of members of the armed forces.

Whatever your political or religious leanings or beliefs, I hope you can take some time over the next week or so to joyfully remember loved ones you have lost and to take a moment to think of those who gave their lives in times of war.

And maybe more importantly; I hope you find some time to tell those you love who are still with you just how much they mean to you.

This post is for my Uncles. One who's just left us, and one who's showing us all how to leave this world with grace and dignity. I love you both. Thank you.

Because I Don't Twitter

I've stayed up til 10, which is really 11, even though I wanted to go to sleep at 8, which was only 9.

Silly time change.

Things I Learned This Week

If you have a massage and physio in the same week, it feels like you got a whole new back installed.

When you have a mini-crush on a guy and he breaks up with one girlfriend and starts, immediately, seeing three new girls, it's annoying.

Epsom salt baths are miraculous.

Waking up in the middle of the night thinking "ahhh, I just got off to sleep and am going to have a great night's sleep now!" and finding out that it's actually 5 minutes until your alarm goes off will really put a damper on your day.

Having people tell you you look really tired when you are really tired actually helps.

It's disturbing to walk from one side of your bat-cave to the other and forget what you were walking there for. It's even more disturbing when you do it twice. In a row.

Being asked to write for people, like, on purpose? can freak a person out.

Calling your friend's cell phone repeatedly because she lost it and is trying to find it is actually a lot of fun.

After a yoga class, I love everybody. In the entire world. And universe. Ahhhhhhhhh.

When you do something nice for someone just because, but they buy you flowers because they really appreciated it, it makes you feel awesome.

Flipping an egg over-easy style is fun. Especially when you do it one handed the very first time you ever try it.