Saturday, 27 February 2010


Well, I certainly earned this weekend and I intend to enjoy it.

This was a "too many irons in the fire" and other metaphors indicating the level of relaxing I deserve this weekend is high.

I need to, as the photo suggests, recharge my battery.

It'd be a lot easier with chocolate, but I'll have to make do!

Friday, 26 February 2010

One of My Favourite Things

I know it's the law and everything, but when I'm driving and hear an ambulance coming and then I see all the cars pulling over to the right to let the ambulance pass I always feel proud.

I love that in that moment, everyone's putting someone else's well being above their own. I love watching the sea of cars part and wait patiently until the ambulance has safely passed.

It makes me proud to be a human and I love it every time it happens.

Thursday, 25 February 2010

On My Mind

Sometimes someone asks you something, or you read or watch or encounter something that sticks with you; that makes you think and think and makes you uncomfortable in a way that can only, ultimately, be good.

This is one of those things.

A co-worker of mine asked what I thought about the idea of being set up with one of his friends.

"He's a great, good looking guy" he said. And then he paused, "And I know how this sounds,and I wouldn't have brought him up if he wasn't such a great guy, but, well, he's in a wheelchair."

We talked about it, openly and frankly, my co-worker and I and I think he's not going to pursue it further, but it was one of those moments when I knew what my gut reaction was, but wasn't sure I liked it. And we sort of let it go without a definite answer either way.

I think if I met someone naturally, without being set up, who was in a wheelchair, and I was attracted to them I'd probably pursue it. I'd just never thought about it before and the whole thing's still on my mind.

I don't really know what to think.

Wednesday, 24 February 2010


I keep meaning to tell you about something that happened last weekend.

I was leaving my Mom and Dad's place when I saw something along the side of the road. I glanced over and saw that it was an owl. Now I don't know much about owls, so all I can tell you is that it was pale, but I don't think it was white (but it might have been) and it had a round face and was a little darker on its wings. Anyway, I saw this owl and gasped. Don't see them much, but there's something about them that's so majestic.

So as I started to pull over, the owl flew up onto a nearby bus stop.

So I pulled up, slowly, under the bus stop and got out of my car.

And I stood there, and he looked at me. And I looked at him. It was amazing. I just stood there staring at him for a while and he looked me over, seemed to think I was harmless but interesting and he kept staring back at me.

I don't know if he's used to people, or if the fact that I was wearing all black and it was dark out made any difference or what, but we stood there like that until another car came by and scared him away.

It was this majestic, magical experience for me and I feel really lucky to have locked eyes with and seen that owl up close out in the world.

It's hard to put into words how moving the experience was, but that's ok, I'll remember the feeling even if I can't write it down exactly.

It was beautiful.

Tuesday, 23 February 2010

I Do Not Like It, Sam I Am

I've heard other people talking on their blogs before about giving something up for Lent (which, here is a link to explain what Lent is if you're someone like me who didn't know) even though they weren't doing it for religious reasons.

I always kind of admired them, thinking that they were being strong, challenging themselves to give something up for forty-something days even though they didn't really *have* to.

So I decided to try it myself this year and I decided to give up chocolate since, lately, a couple of people have joked that I'm something of a choc-o-holic and I haven't been able to convince myself that they're wrong.

So, I haven't had chocolate for six days now.

And, unfortunately? I don't like it. I really don't like it.

Which may mean I have a problem. But that's not the point right now. The point right now is that this has felt like, in some moments, a very long six days. I had no idea how many times I think about wanting to eat chocolate.

I want my Mommy!

Monday, 22 February 2010

Still Smiling

Last Monday, one of my co-spy-workers came in and said that he'd taken a day trip over to Vancouver to look around and be part of the Olympic spirit. He said it was a pretty awesome experience just to be downtown with so many people and to see what an event of such magnitude looks like in person.

So I decided to do the same thing this weekend. Kind of mulled it over all week, and then decided it would be worth it to go. And let me tell you, I'm really glad I did!

No, I didn't get in to see any events (I wish I'd thought ahead enough to try for that though after having been over there) but I got to be part of it all. The people. So many people! Proud Canadians in their Canada gear everywhere. Proud visitors from other countries wearing flags and hats and jackets and carrying flags from their homeland. Athletes and officials taking a few hours to look around, stopping and smiling for photos. People smiling, laughing, wandering wide-eyed through downtown Vancouver. Young and old shouting for joy as they zip-lined across Robson square. Streets closed to vehicle traffic, police at every intersection making sure the pedestrians were crossing safely. Going on the seabus and talking to people from Germany, and talking to locals who told me the best place to go to get sunset pictures. Everyone talking about how well everything was running and how amazing it all is.

Seeing the Olympic cauldron and the Olympic flame, knowing what it represents and where it's been and how long it's been holding the Olympic spirit.

I don't know, it was just awesome. All of it. To be part of a huge group of people who are all celebrating. All joining together to be a part of something bigger. And I know nothing like this is ever perfect and I know some people are unhappy with things and I know there has been sadness, but I was in a host city during the Olympics. I saw it. I felt it. I smiled my way through the day. And I'm still smiling.

Y'all? It was cool. Really cool. I'm glad I did it. For anyone who lives close to a city that's hosting the Olympics in the future? My advice is go. Try to get tickets to an event, but if you can't, go anyway. Be part of it. See what it's like. Drink in the spirit and energy of the world visiting your home. It's amazing.

Once in a lifetime for sure.

Go, Canada, Go!

Saturday, 20 February 2010

The Latest

Coles Notes Version For Those Who Need To Catch Up Before The Post Begins: I had stomach pains, they tested for Celiac disease, they said I had it, they said I didn't, they said I did. The end.

Or eeeeees it?

Was back at the specialist last month and he's not sure.

Nothing's definitive, which is what you want in medicine. A clear black or white answer. Mine is very grey. Unclear shades of grey apparently.

So, here's the good news. For the next couple of months I can eat whatever I want. In fact, I *have* to eat gluten. Lots of it. To see if we can force my body to react to it. Which, so far (knock on wood) it hasn't.

Which may or may not mean anything.

(Lost yet?)

All I know is that I'm enjoying the freedom while I have it.

Do you have any idea how good cupcakes taste? (Thanks to S for that reminder)

So, yeah, I'm on a so-called gluten challenge.

Gluten? Hear me, the gauntlet has been thrown, the challenge is on!

I feel like a mix between a swashbuckler and someone in a race.

A race to eat as much gluten containing yummy food as I can while I can.

You know, just in case.

Friday, 19 February 2010

It Wasn't Even That Hard

Those of you who have been around these here parts from the beginning may have to pick your jaws up off the floor but I actually spoke to an attractive man the other day. All by myself. On purpose.

Not only that, but I went up to him and thanked him for making my and my co-worker's lunch hour. (I'd been caught staring at him a few times, felt like I had to say something.)

And then I told him we both thought he was really cute.

And I smiled and walked away.

I could hardly believe I'd done it but as I said to my co-worker as we left, I have to grow balls sometime, may as well be now.

Thursday, 18 February 2010

Hrm. . .

So I've passed the 40 days line I set myself in my non-resolution of the new year. It's interesting, that's for sure and it gives me something to focus my day on.

I'm just not sure it's a great thing. It certainly hasn't yet become what I'd hoped it would be.

I'd hoped it would be a means to force myself to take beautiful, amazing, stunning photos every day. It hasn't.

Sure, I take photos every day, and some mornings I've even woken up worried about when I'd find the time to take my photo for the day. See, I don't like taking photos inside my house because that usually means I've missed the natural light of the day and that sucks.

So when I wake up knowing that I'm already committed for the day to work and appointments and that I won't be able to find the time to whip the camera out until after dark I feel pressured, panicky. And that shouldn't really be happening.

Sure, I've taken some photos that I love. Photos that weren't taken this time last year; photos that wouldn't have been taken had I not been pushing myself to get out and take them and that's great.

But I'm not enjoying it exactly. I'm spending more time than I'd like worrying about when and where, when I'd really rather just have my camera ready for the times that work.

And that in itself is a positive change. Now on my way to work, I don't just carry my gym bag, I also carry my camera, that's good.

There are also days when the photos I take are not ones I love, and then I have to choose the one I dislike the least to post and that also sucks.

And there are days when I wish instead of posting a photo I'm not proud of, I could post a photo from another day; from one of those days when I took twenty, thirty photos I loved.

But I don't want to lie.

So I'm battling being ok with taking photos I don't like. And I'm battling with worrying about taking photos. Maybe that's all part of the process. I don't know. It's just one of the hard things about flickr; when I look around it seems like everyone else takes a stunning photo every day.

And I know that's an exaggeration, but that's what it feels like.

So I'm still trying to figure out what I'm doing and why. I guess I'm trying to adapt. I just wish I had a go-to "it's dark and I need to take a photo inside" photo or something. Or I wish I'd let myself cheat. Or not post every day. Or something.

I dunno.

Maybe I'm just too hard on myself.

Or maybe I just need to expect less.

But that sucks too.

Tell me what to do? Tell me what to think?

Or something.

Wednesday, 17 February 2010

Q is for Quips

When I was out with my friend the other weekend (she who would like to be called C-Dawg, but I'm pretending I've forgotten) I had to write down some of the hilarious things she said because I knew I'd never remember them if I didn't.

Like, when some very blonde ladies walked past us on their way to the washroom she mumbled that "I don't use that much bleach on my bathtub."

Or when we ordered some mini-burgers at the end of our evening she very astutely pointed out that "those are big mini-burgers," which indeed they were, and the fact that we'd had a few drinks made this observation even funnier.

There was also the moment when a group of scantily clad gals wandered into the casual/mellow bar we ended up at that she paused for a moment, looking them over and then proclaimed that "I think most of those girls' outfits have less fabric than my underwear."

It's even funnier because she's not being mean, she's just calling it like it is. And she doesn't try to be funny. She just is.

Even when we're both sober.

I've got great friends.

Even if they do pick out weird names for themselves.

Tuesday, 16 February 2010

Now, The Apology Done, Applause Can Begin

This is a post that has been somehow stuck in my head for a while with no clear way out, and even now it's not making any more sense as I type it out.

This photo blows my mind, I absolutely love it, and I chose it because it somehow fits the mood of the thought stuck in my head. And the title I gave this photo is from one of my favourite Tragically Hip songs.

And the title for this post is from another.

I'm not sure what that has to do with anything, it's just true.

If I really felt it was worth it, I'd call up a guy I've hung out with a couple of times and I'd tell him that I never said no, I just didn't say yes.

And, no, I'm not talking about sleeping with him, that was never broached. He'd asked if I was interested in a relationship or if it was just a friendship situation.

I said I didn't know, that I wasn't sure yet, that it was too soon to say one way or another for sure.

And I can see how that would be taken as a polite "no." But I really meant it. I just wasn't sure. Am not sure.

I didn't say no, I just didn't say yes.

Monday, 15 February 2010


That was quite the weekend, no? What with the Valentines day (the first in memory I really wasn't disappointed as I didn't have even the slightest expectations or hopes) and Chinese New Year and the Olympics beginning and it seemed like so much going on, too much to fit into one tiny weekend.

I really think BC needs to adopt Family Day and quick. February is a long month without a stat. Even though it's a short month. Haven't had a break since Jan 1st. Won't have a break til April. Doesn't that seem overly long? (Have my sad puppy dog eyes worked yet? Do I get today off? No? What if I bat my eyelashes too?)

I don't want to talk much about the Olympics, what with its controversy and the tragedy from Friday and all, I'll just say this; I was incredibly moved by the opening ceremonies and I really enjoyed them. And I'm very proud to see the eyes of the world looking at my beautiful home town and home province.

In case you missed it, let me share with you the words of Canadian slam poet Shane Koyczan who was asked to read his poem, "We Are More." I thought it was perfect. Well said Shane, and well read. We are indeed more. And happily so.

We Are More
by Shane Koyczan

Define Canada
You might say the home of the Rocket
Or The Great One
Who inspired little No. 9s and little No. 99s
But we're more than just hockey and fishing lines
Off of the rocky coast of the Maritimes
And some say what defines us
Is something as simple as 'please' and 'thank you'
And as for 'you're welcome,' well, we say that, too.
But we are more than genteel or civilized
We are an idea in the process of being realized
We are young, we are cultures strung together then woven into a tapestry
And the design is what makes us more than the sum totals of our history
We are an experiment going right for a change
With influences that range from A to Zed
And yes, we say 'Zed' instead of 'Zee'
We are the brightness of Chinatown and the laughter of Little Italy
We dream so big that there are those
Who would call our ambition an industry
We reforest what we clear
Because we believe in generations beyond our own
Knowing now that so many of us
Have grown past what we used to be
We can stand here today
Filled with all the hope people have
When they say things like 'someday'
Because we are more
Than a laundry list of things to do and places to see
More than hills to ski
Or countryside ponds to skate
We are the abandoned hesitation of all those who can't wait
We are first-rate greasy spoon diners and healthy living cafes
A country that is all the ways you choose to live
A nation that can give you variety
Because we are choices
We are millions upon millions of voices
Shouting, "Keep exploring!"
We are more
We are the surprise the world has in store for you, it's true
Canada is the "what" in "what's new?"
So don't let your luggage define your travels
Each life unravels differently
And experiences are what make up
The colours of our tapestry
We are the true North
Strong and free
And what's more
Is that we didn't just say it
We made it be

Sunday, 14 February 2010

I Choo Choo Choose You!

It kind of snuck up on me this year

(thank goodness!)

so will you all be my Valentine?

Also, Gung Hay Fat Choi!

Saturday, 13 February 2010

Well, We Can't All Be Smart All The Time

So you know how a lot of stores have those automatic doors where when you walk towards them they have a sensor and so they open automatically for you?


So I was heading into Thrifty's last week and as I approached the doors alongside an older gentleman I noticed the doors weren't opening.

There was this strange moment when we both got to the doors and they still didn't open and I didn't know what to do. My brain could not compute that the doors that always always just magically open for me weren't opening.

I turned to the guy and said "Wow, I guess we don't exist!"

He laughed and pushed the doors opened for us, which is good, because I'm not sure I knew how I was going to get into the store without the magic automatic doors' help.

And then I could stop giggling at how odd it had felt to have the doors *not* open.

And at the fact that I really hadn't known how I was going to get into the store.

I wonder how long I would have stood there just hoping they'd open?

But don't worry, I went to another Thrifty's today and I exist again.

It's all good.

Friday, 12 February 2010

And I'm Not Talking About Cucumber Sandwiches

OK, this is awkward but true; I've never used a cucumber for anything other than food.

In fact, I don't even really like cucumbers. They make me burp, to be quite honest.

But I was picking up ingredients for a new recipe yesterday and it called for two medium sized cucumbers and for the life of me I just couldn't buy them.

All I could think was that every one in the produce section was giggling behind their backs at the single girl buying cucumbers for "you know what" reasons. Not that anyone was even noticing.

Do people really .... you know, do that? Or is it just urban legend?

Am I unable to buy cucumbers due to an urban legend/myth?

And, yes, I'm almost as awkward buying condoms.

(Not that I need to buy any, Mom. They're for a friend. I'm still saving myself for marriage.)

Thursday, 11 February 2010


I had a terrible terrible wakeup the other morning.


I was right in the middle of a very good, very intense, very realistic (if you know what I mean) dream about making out with John Mayer.*

A very very good dream about making out with John Mayer.

But right before we got to the really good stuff. . . my alarm went off.


*No, I'm not really sure why it was John Mayer.

Wednesday, 10 February 2010


Do you know what's really weird?

Opening up a local magazine and finding a picture of your Ex in it.

Edited to add: Not the ex I just spent a week talking about, that would be weird. (Thought I should clarify, just in case someone thought so.)

Tuesday, 9 February 2010

A Dream Is A Wish Your Heart Makes When You're Fast Asleep

I ran across a really cute guy a couple of weekends ago and before I knew it, I'd made up our "happily ever after" story in my head complete with what our first fight would be about and all the way to how and when he'd propose and just what a wonderful husband he'd be.

And before you think I've lost my mind, I always do that and so do most of my girlfriends. Maybe it's a girl thing, I don't know, but it's fun to imagine what your relationship could be like with an attractive stranger.

There's a thin line, however, between enjoying the fantasy as a happy fictional story you've made up and hoping it'll actually happen. Because when you get your hopes up too much it can really hurt.

Even getting your hopes up a little can hurt.

Like, let's say you gave this cute guy your number and hoped he would call? When he didn't, as much as you'd tell yourself you're still awesome and hot, you'd still be a little bit hurt that he didn't and you'd probably wish you hadn't gotten your hopes up.

Monday, 8 February 2010

Inside Thoughts

The world I live in inside my head is pretty darn hilarious most of the time. And many of my closest friends appreciate my slightly silly sense of humour.

I have to remind myself, however, that my "tee hee, that was funny" in my head doesn't always translate well out in the real world.

A good example of this?

I made a funny (to me) joke in the store the other day about some toasters I was looking at. I asked the guy who worked there if he "knew these toasters." He said no, so I started laughing (because it was already funny in my head) and said "so you don't know their names or anything?"* Because, you see, in my head I was thinking "you don't know their names" as in, Bob, or Steve or Marjory or something like each toaster was an individual person with names and home phone numbers and see how funny it is in my head?!

I could tell I shouldn't have said anything by the look I was getting from the guy. And then I realized that all the toasters had names printed on their boxes and that dude was thinking "why would I need to learn their brand names when you can just look on the box and see them?"

So, I have to remind myself that sometimes what's funny inside my head is *only* funny inside my head.


*See, even now I'm chuckling again at it even though I know most of you will be going "Huh?" Heh. Heh.

Saturday, 6 February 2010

So I Did

So I left. Told him I couldn't afford to pay rent anymore and wouldn't move in with smokers. And I still felt guilty somehow.

We both moved out, to our separate places, him in with his buddies, me back with my folks.

I was devastated.

I'd given so much of myself to him for so long and this was how it'd ended.

I never wanted to be in another relationship again. I never wanted to be intimate with someone again. I never wanted to even consider falling in love again.

I don't remember how it ended, exactly. I remember going over to his place a time or two, always leaving stinking like cigarettes and feeling worse for wear. I don't remember anymore if we called it quits or if I told him it was over or if it just faded painfully away. I don't remember and it's funny that I don't.

But, it did, eventually end. And I did, eventually, move on, and I guess he did too.

I didn't keep in touch, obviously, and I don't know where he is or how he is. I used to Google search for his name, hoping for his sake that he did make it in the music industry. Jeff was a beautiful, talented musician. That much is true. I should be able to end this story by telling you how I lost my virginity to that famous musician you hear on the radio, but I can't. And that's a loss. I'm not being dramatic when I say I just hope he's alive and well, but that in my heart I'm not sure he's either.

I hurt for a long time over that relationship.

I hurt for longer over the way I gave myself up for something that wasn't giving anything back to me.

I think it, honestly, took me years to get over the ways I twisted myself up and into paying back the guilt I felt over one reckless evening with an old flame the summer after I'd met Jeff. I can look back now and know the lessons I've learned.

I just sometimes wish I'd been able to learn them an easier way.

And, that, my friends, is the condensed version of what happened to my first serious boyfriend.

Thanks for asking, The One in the Back. Hope that answers the "500 lb gorilla in the room" question.

Friday, 5 February 2010


One of the first things I did after finding Jeff and his (coughcoughyeahIcallbullshitcough) friend together in his bed was call up one of my close friends to go out for coffee. I hadn't seen her all school year, a fact she was kind enough not to mention when I called.

When I told her what had happened and what was going on, she said the words that would change my life. "That sound like an abusive relationship to me."


It echoed around in my brain and I knew she was right.

How had I not seen it earlier? When had this happened? How had I not noticed?

And, more to the point, how lucky was I to have a girlfriend who was able to gently show me what I'd been unable unwilling to see?

It took me a while to leave, as twisted up as I was in Jeff and whatever tatters of the relationship I thought remained. And ironically, I wasn't able to tell him I wanted out until he told me he wanted us to move in with his friends, all of whom smoked.

I've never liked smokers. I can't be around cigarette smoke. I won't date someone who smokes. That Jeff would move us to a house full of smokers was the last straw. The voice in my head wasn't quiet any more. It was loud.





So I did.

To be continued . . .

Thursday, 4 February 2010

Worse and Worse

Probably, if you'd asked him, Jeff had completely forgotten that I'd been unfaithful to him, once. Maybe he hadn't thought of it as being unfaithful. Maybe he had. Maybe he'd done the same with his ex and just never told me. Maybe, maybe, maybe. But I hadn't forgotten. It was stuck in my mind like a festering sliver. Throbbing away so painfully, but so deep under the skin you can't see it.

I knew I was unhappy, but I also knew I had to stay.

I just didn't, consciously know why.

I was still going to school and working evenings and weekends. Jeff got a part time job bussing tables in the evening, but his money went to buying gear. Amps, better guitars, alcohol, illegal substances I turned a blind eye to, but would be spoken to by the landlord about. So I covered for him. With landlords and workplaces and soon I was paying our rent, buying our groceries.

I didn't mind in some ways, because he was a genuinely talented musician and I believed he could make it.

And I loved him.

Didn't I?

I took out a student loan, the first and last I'd ever take out, to help with costs and I kept telling myself he was "the One" and that all this hardship was worth it. You can convince yourself of that sometimes when you're in a really really dark place. You can convince yourself of that sometimes when your relationship is killing your spirit. There's that whole teenage grunge angst thing that makes you feel like you're really really part of it all. Like you "get" it.

I was twenty, living on my own with my hot, musician boyfriend. I was holding down a job and University.

Why did I hate my life so much?

I probably could have ignored things with Jeff for a lot longer, but then he started sleeping on his own.

He put a mattress down in the living room and told me that his late shifts at the restaurant were so tiring he needed the sleep to himself.

He started putting me down while we were making love, pointing out the things I was doing wrong. Something in the back of my head started telling me, very quietly, that this wasn't ok. This wasn't right.

Someone who loves you *wants* to share a bed with you, no matter how tired they are. Someone who loves you appreciates you while you're being intimate, loves sleeping with you, enjoys your company. This wasn't right.

But I felt like I had no real proof, that maybe the voice in my head was wrong.

And then one night he had some friends over. I headed to bed while they were still up because I had to work in the morning. You know, to pay our rent.

When I got up to catch the bus for work the next morning, I found him cuddled up on his mattress with a girl. One of the girls had stayed over, and apparently his arms were the only place she could find to sleep.

"Nothing happened," they assured me. "Look, she's still wearing all her clothes."

But I finally agreed with the quiet voice in my head. It was over.

Now I just had to figure out how to get out.

To be continued . . .

Wednesday, 3 February 2010

The Twisting Began

I wasn't exactly sure how, but suddenly my fun trip back home to see friends had turned into an awful mistake and I wanted to make it right.

I took an early ferry back to Victoria and called Jeff that night.

I can almost remember the entire conversation we had, the words I used, how I tried to explain that I knew I'd hurt him and that I was very sorry.

He didn't say anything. His end of the line was very quiet. I must have asked him what he was thinking, but I don't remember his answer.

Had I been more mature, well, that's a moot point, really, but maybe if I'd had more confidence and trust in myself I'd just have ended things there.

But I didn't. We didn't.

We didn't talk about it again, the fact that I'd slept with someone else while we were maybe possibly still in a relationship, but in my mind I'd cheated on him. And the guilt was horrendous. I'd have done anything for him. Anything to try to erase the guilt I felt. Anything to make up for what I felt I'd done.

twist, twist, twist

Much of the summer is a blur, and soon enough it was September again and he was back in Victoria and we were together.

I twisted my life around to be with him. Took classes he was taking to spend more time with him. Hung around with his friends, not mine, just to be around him.

I felt like I owed him. That I'd done this horrible thing to him and now needed to give him all of myself.

Things got rough at home (my folks had retired and moved over to Victoria) and my parents didn't approve of the relationship.

Which sent me even deeper into Jeff's arms. And life. Forbidden fruit. He seemed like a saviour to me then. I think we both fed off the drama. We were beyond Romeo and Juliet, we were modern day nineteen year olds not allowed to see each other. Irresistible. Utterly.

We snuck around. We did whatever it took to see each other.

twist, twist, twist

Jeff quit school. Dropped out of the music program. Changed instruments and set his path on becoming a rock and roll guitarist.

Boy had talent. Potential. A darkness inside him that was growing moodier. But he also had my heart.

So we moved in together.

Very much against the wishes of my parents.

What did my friends think?

I don't know. I didn't talk to them or see them anymore.

Jeff had become the centre of my everything. I owed him that.

I was all twisted up already.

To be continued . . .

Tuesday, 2 February 2010

And Then

So summer came, and Jeff headed back to his home town to work and save and I stayed in Victoria to do the same.

We lived a ferry ride and five hour drive from each other so travelling to see each other wasn't an option.

We hadn't really talked about what a summer apart meant and we'd never taken the time to define our relationship (who does at that age?) so I didn't know if we were boyfriend girlfriend or if we were just two people who'd slept together and then been cruelly split up by fate or what.

I went home for a week that summer, to see friends and have some fun and it was a fun week. I was legal drinking age for the first time in my home town and was able to walk into a liquor store and purchase alcohol. Oh, the power. The freedom. The coolers!

I was staying with a girlfriend for a couple of nights and we went out with her and her boyfriend. I'd introduced the two of them and had also dated his best friend for a month or two before leaving for university.

It was great to see him again, and all the feelings I'd had for him came rushing back and in one of the most romantic evenings of my young life one thing lead to another and we slept together.

My girlfriend, the next morning, asked me the obvious question: "What about Jeff?"

I didn't know.

Had I cheated? It felt like I had, but we weren't even together, were we? No promises had been made, he rarely called me, this was an old flame of mine and things had just happened that should have happened before I went away, and it shouldn't be that big a deal.

So why did I feel so guilty?

I didn't know, I just knew I'd screwed up and I had to get home. I had to talk to him. Somehow if I told him, it would all be ok.

To be continued . . .

Monday, 1 February 2010

Oh What A Difference

I had such a better weekend this weekend you guys.


There's good news and bad news out of it, though.

The good great news is that C and I went out on Friday and had an absolute blast. The stories I have to tell will last for weeks. It was an awesome, epic, seriously fun night. And well needed. And deserved by both of us.

It's very usual for me to crack up laughing while hanging out with C, and Friday was no exception. In fact, near the end of the evening I asked her if she had a pen so I could write down and therefore remember her hilarities.

And here's where the bad news comes in:

C would from now on, like to be referred to on this blog as "C-Dawg".

I'm hoping she was just really drunk and didn't mean it, but I think she might.

I'll have to call her and ask.

I'm just scared of the answer.

Oh well, at least I have two sides of an envelope's worth of funny stories to tell you.

Hope you had a great weekend too.
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.