Friday, 28 February 2014

Something Something Letting Go

There's, I'm sure, a ton of quotes about how when you let go of something, somehow it happens.  Or something like that.

You know, you finally let go of wanting a husband and the next thing you know you meet the man of your dreams?  That kind of thing?

Yeah well.

I got rid of my jeans in October.

The ones that didn't fit anymore because they were too tight.

There was a clothing exchange happening and I didn't want to go but I sorted through my closet and sent a few things with a friend and I finally got rid of those jeans.  I wasn't going to fit into them again, who was I kidding?

And I don't know how much longer after that it was but people started to comment that my pants were too big.

Well, yeah.  I mean I'd gone and bought new ones.  A size up.  So that they fit.

But then I guess I kind of lost a bit of weight or shrunk some other way and so they became a lot more comfortable and I didn't mind how they looked.

Except people kept bringing it up.

"Those don't fit you know."  "Those are too big for you!"

And then my other jeans got the hole and so I brought out the baggy pair and the straw finally broke things when a (hilarious, well meaning) friend told me that it looked like I'd "taken a shit" in my diaper and what on earth was wrong with my pants?

So I went jean shopping the very next day.

And wouldn't you know it, if I still had those jeans I gave away?  They'd fit again.

And apparently I look a whole lot better with (smaller) pants that actually fit.

I should probably apply this life lesson to other things, eh?

What shall I give away next?

Thursday, 27 February 2014

Just Noticing

Steady On by foundimagination
I didn't know or realize it at the time (I don't think) but I was pretty spoiled by the time I had with Jay.

I mean all the time I had with Jay around all the time if that makes sense.

No.  Let me start again.

I'm only realizing how how much I enjoyed having Jay living with me and how lucky I was to have had that.

Really, we were only able to have that because Jay was homeless and unemployed.  Or to be more polite about it, Jay was between contracts and didn't have a residence as he wasn't sure where his next contract would place him.  (There, did that sound nicer?)

And that sends me off on an entirely new train of thought about how convenient it must have been for Jay to have me to stay with.  But.. I'd rather not get on the bitter train today so let's just hop back off shall we?

So Jason (which is also another post/train of thought as well) is working and has a place.  And so he's not free to hang out with me all the time.  Or sometimes much of the time.  He's often busy on weekends and my down time doesn't always match with his.  And I think this is what it's usually like for people who both have jobs and busy lives when they're hanging out but it made me realize how much I liked having Jay around all the time.

He was here when I got home and we could do something.  Go for a walk or just sit and watch a show or whatever.  And when I felt like doing something we could.  Or if I just wanted to chill and do nothing we could.  We could sit and read.  Or just be around each other.  I liked having that company.

He was always with me in bed at night and I got used to that and liked it and he was there when I woke up in the morning and I got to have a quick snuggle each morning before I left for work.

Not "normal" I'm sure but still nice.  And although I really enjoy my time to myself and my down time, it was nice to have someone always free when I wanted company or wanted an adventure.

I miss living with a love.  I was kind of spoiled by Jay.

Wednesday, 26 February 2014

I'm Still Catching Up

I need me my sleep.

And as much as I forget it in the moment, a late night will cost me a week of being extra sleepy.

The reason I'm talking about this right now?

I got a late night wake up this weekend and I'm still feeling like I can't get enough sleep to make up for it.

It was 3:30 (yes, A.M.) on Friday night and I'd been having a dream about Jason, who was out with friends for the evening.  And in the middle of that dream my buzzer rang.  Someone was at the door, wanting in.

I was shocked awake by the noise of it but I was also kind of flattered.  Jason, who I was guessing was tipsy at this time of the morning, had clearly made his way to my place and was wanting to see me.

Call it a booty call if you like, I knew we wouldn't do much more than smooch and cuddle and fall asleep and I was good with that.  The company was going to be nice.

So as all those thoughts sprang threw my groggily jolted awake head, I picked up the phone next to my bed.

"Well, hello" I drawled. 

No response from drunken Jason.

I fumbled to see in the dark and pressed the button to let him in.

And then I slipped on my dressing gown and went to the door.


I didn't hear him coming up the stairs so I frowned confusedly after waiting for a few moments and closed the door again.

I found my cell.

"Didn't I just let you in?"

No response.

I figured his cell was out of batteries.  After all, it was nearly four in the morning.

Maybe I'd pressed the wrong button and he was still out there waiting to be let in?  Maybe he was really drunk and had changed his mind and gone home, feeling bad for waking me?

I decided to head down to the door to let him in.

I padded downstairs and along the hall and?  No one was at the door.

No drunken Jason.

Hmm... maybe he'd already started stumbling home?

I texted him again.  "I'm confused."

No answer.

I locked the door and wondered what I should do.  Should I drive along where he might be walking and pick him up?  (I'd been looking forward to a cuddle after all.)  No, I'd wait until he got home, plugged in his phone to charge and saw my texts.

I brought my cell into bed with me and tried to sleep but couldn't.

Wasn't sure why he had buzzed and not come in.  I mean, it was him, wasn't it?

I must have fallen asleep eventually because I woke up to a text from C-Dawg telling me it was snowing!

I looked outside and smiled, and tried to get a few more winks of sleep before my meeting.

Later Saturday morning, I texted Jason. 

"Hey, good morning.  So, did you come by last night?"

"Nope.  I was at [friend's] house all night."

"Oh.  Uh oh."

Meaning, I have no idea who buzzed me at 3:30 in the morning, but assuming I pressed the right button on my phone, I let a stranger into the building!

I can only hope they were here to visit someone and just got the wrong buzzer number, but ... whoops!

Anyway.  My point is, I'm still recovering from that interrupted sleep.

Oh, and I probably should always ask who's buzzing at the door instead of just assuming.

My bad.

Tuesday, 25 February 2014

Most Were Rootbound

Tropical by foundimagination
This weekend I got around to re-potting some plants that have been needing it for a while.

Historically, I haven't had a whole lot of luck when repotting plants (they tend to die on me when I do) so I usually just avoid it, but a couple of my plants have been getting less and less happy (ie.  kind of dying) so it's been on my "I should probably do that" plate for a while.

So when my friend asked me if I wanted a plant of hers that I'd just need to repot I said sure, and asked if she'd help me as I wasn't great at it.  She said sure, she had quite the green thumb, and so I bought some dirt and some new pots (insert "pot" joke here) and this weekend she had a few minutes so we went out back to re-pot.

Now, as I write this, I'm still a little worried about one of the plants that hasn't really seemed to adjust too well, but the craziest thing to see was the two plants (who were the least happy) who honestly, I'm not exaggerating, we both noticed it, the minute we put them into their new home?  Looked super happy.  Like, perked right up.  Looked alive.  Were no longer drooping.  It was incredible.

I'm still hoping the transfer will continue to go well, and my fingers are especially crossed for the spider plant that maybe didn't need repotting and maybe isn't too happy (yet?) but everyone else seems to have done really well and I may be breaking my streak of making plants less happy when I move them.

Oh, and the orchid stem someone gave me at the start of the month is still doing well.  I don't even know if I should bother changing the water or just let it be.

But, yeah.  I did me some mini gardening this weekend.

Monday, 24 February 2014

My Entire Everything Is Happier

I really like being physically comfortable.

I mean, maybe that sounds like a really obvious statement but I don't mean it to be.

What I mean is, like, what I'm wearing sort of thing.

Like, take this weekend.

I had a morning meeting on Saturday so I got up, dressed, went to the meeting and came home.  I then started my laundry and tidied a bit before realizing there was no need for me to continue wearing my "real" clothes.

So I took off the outfit, pants, socks, undies, bra, top and put them away and then I slid on my warmest pj bottoms, slippers and a soft t-shirt and hoodie.

And I swear, my whole body sighed happily.

It just felt so good.

And I was happier.  I love being physically comfortable.  Skin against clothing wise.

Soft, loose... happy.

C-Dawg and I were talking about clothes on Thursday.  She came to work in yoga/workout pants and a hoodie and she said she was in the best mood because of it.  She felt happy and relaxed and things weren't bothering her as much.

And I was jealous.

I love being physically comfortable and I wonder how my day to day might change if I was able to be as comfortable during the week as I am on my down time.

But, anyway... I'm just saying, I love being super comfy.  It makes me happy all over.

Saturday, 22 February 2014

The Things I Don't Often Discuss Are Sometimes The Most Important

More Leaf Shadows by foundimagination
I sometimes write a post like yesterday's post and then find myself thinking about it in the background of my thoughts over the next day, or sometimes week.  And often as these thoughts process, I come to a clearer understanding than I had before I started the post, which is part of why I let myself write when I'm feeling emotional or worried or overwhelmed.  It helps me process and find clarity sometimes.  Or at least a bit more clarity.

I don't talk about it much, but sex is a very important thing to me.

I would say that it must be important to everyone, but I understand that for some people it's not, so I'll just stick to what I know about me.

Before Jay and I became involved, certainly before we met, I did not feel safe with him sexually.  Attracted to him mentally and emotionally, sure, but that didn't mean I felt safe.

I had a lot of issues with the fact that Jay doesn't really believe in monogamy and that he was telling me that he expresses his love with his friends in a way that most of us would classify as sexual and I didn't feel ok with this.

I worried and thought about it a lot.

I talked with Vince about it a lot.

He told me to just be in the moment here and now and not worry about all the what ifs.  That Jay and I would meet and go from there.  Or not.  But I still felt so uncomfortable and didn't want to be with Jay and it occurred to me that this is how I'm feeling about Jason, that same sense of "holy %^$* I don't want this in my life."

But with Jason it's not sexual.  I trust Jason in that way.  From the start, we realized and recognized that we had a lot of similarities sexually.  And that may make it sound like we had perverted conversations on day one, but that's not what I mean.  And I guess it takes some explaining...

When Jason and I first messaged back and forth and he mentioned that he needed a strong woman, one of the things he mentioned is that as a photographer he works with models and needs a significant other in his life who isn't jealous or intimidated by this.  He went on to mention that he also sometimes shoots nudes.

This didn't phase me because I've drawn nudes myself.  It's weirdly non-sexual, so I wasn't turned off (or on) by the fact that he shoots nudes, and I was, to be honest, curious to see if his shots were any good.  (And if they were sensual, or interesting, or what.)  So when we talked on the phone that night, one of the things we talked about was shooting nudes and that lead to talk about how a girlfriend might react to that.

When I first imagined it, I figured I would be utterly jealous and intimidated by a boyfriend who was working with naked women ten gazillion times hotter and sexier and more-modelly than I am but just talking with him about it I could tell it wasn't about them, it was about getting the shot, and roll your eyes if you want, but about the art.  And I may not be a photographer by trade, but I get that, and I can understand that.

I told him, honestly, that my best guess was that as long as I knew that my man was coming home to me that night I didn't see why I would be jealous of him being with sexy models.  I may be intimidated by feeling less attractive than them, but were I in a relationship with someone who I trusted, it would be something we could figure out for sure.

Jason seemed really solid about the whole thing and so that all was good and then we just kept talking about things in that realm and somehow we talked a bit about sex (shhh, don't make me blush, I'm a grown woman, I'm allowed!) and that's how we found we had, I guess you could say, similar interests, or comfort zones maybe, I don't know, I just know that I felt comfortable with him sexually.

He's very monogamous.

And clean.

And respectful.

And believes in friendship first.  And waiting til you know someone.

But also in chemistry.

Which we both felt after that conversation.

So if I compare going into a relationship with Jay to going into a relationship with Jason, the most fundamental difference is that I felt unsafe with Jay in terms of sex, and I feel very safe with Jason.

I felt safe with Jay in terms of lifestyle (outside of sex) and I don't feel safe with Jason.  (But I also feel like I'm shooting a little bit blind here somehow.)

I think as I thought about yesterday's post, I started to ask myself what is fundamentally more important?  To me.  To be with someone with whom I feel safe on a very basic, very visceral, gut level about something that I think is a vitally important part of a long term relationship?  To be with someone I believe will treat me kindly and lovingly and for whom loyalty and monogamy are of utmost importance?  Or to be with someone who does not value me in the same way when it comes to sex and intimacy but who has nice, safe, comfortable friends and a lifestyle I know and understand.

I felt safe when Jay held me in his arms.  If I hadn't felt safe with him when we met, we would never have been intimate.  And I still feel safe when I think of Jay, and I still want to turn to Jay when I'm feeling unsafe or frightened or hurt.

Even though Jay hurt me, and so many other unsafe things I don't need to go into.

I feel safe when Jason and I are cuddling.

I feel safe when Jason tells me I'm amazing.  And beautiful.  And smart.

I feel safe when Jason tells me to "just wait, let me finish" when we're pushing each other in a conversation.  We just haven't made it out of the safe little bubble of my apartment, or talks on the phone and I don't know how things will be if we ever do make it out of this bubble.

Maybe it won't work in the real world.  Maybe we'll be a little bit like Bird and I were.  Bird and I never went out.  Never socialized.  Never met each other's friends.  Just the people we knew from the way we met.

I don't know.

But I trust Jason as a person.  Sexually.

Which to me, is very very fundamentally important.

Friday, 21 February 2014

So What Now Then?

So many thoughts I want to share and stories to tell but I feel like my thoughts are all a bottle and I'm pushing down on the cork from the outside because I don't know what will happen if I let them all out, if I say what is.

I felt both safe and unsafe with Jay.  I'd have to go back through my posts and journals to find out what ways I felt safe with him (physically?  emotionally?  mentally?  not all of these I'm guessing.)

And right now I feel both safe and unsafe with Jason.

Both Jay and Jason have unconventional lives, but in very different ways.

And I've spent the last decade (or so?) making my life very conventional.  And it frightens me to think that a wild, loose lifestyle might have me losing all the things that keep me safe.

My job.  And by that I mean my income.  My health benefits.  My known status as a decent person.

With Jay, I felt that mingling our lives wouldn't cost me my job or my general sense of having a safe life at any point.  It might cost me in other ways, most notably my self-worth, but my safety net would remain un-touched.  I felt like Jay would push me outside of my comfort zone, and he did, but that that pushing wouldn't take me too far from "ok".  That I'd still be able to take him home to Mom and Dad some day.  Even if that thought was more metaphorical than something I envisioned happening.

With Jason, I don't have the same sense of ok.

Jay and I grew up differently, ran in different circles, but I felt like our differences clicked.  Meshed.  Fit together like a Venn Diagram or something.  I might have been shy with his co-workers, but I didn't feel unsafe around them, or uncomfortable, just that I didn't fit in and I was the stranger in the situation.

And as I'm writing this I'm realizing that I never met any of Jay's friends.  I know he had some in town but we never met.  I met his co-workers and I know he considers them friends but that's not the same... but anyway...

Jason and I also grew up differently, and we run in very different circles.

Jason tells me stories and I'm not excited by them, I'm frightened by them.  The people he tells me about have lives that I don't want to mix with mine.

I don't have people in my circle who deal with the kind of drama you'd see on Sons of Anarchy or some other heavy, hard can't take this home to Mom and Dad kind of show.

My friends don't call me in the middle of the night because their abusive ex is pounding on the door.

My friends have struggles, but they're safe struggles.

My friends aren't involved in things that could potentially mess with my career, my safety, my comfort.

And Jason and I have talked about this a little.  I have a hard time putting it into words, to be honest.  And here, where I feel like I have to be delicate with words, and respect privacy, I still am not able to put it into the words that I need, but what I did say to Jason the last time we hung out was that I wasn't sure if his brand of crazy worked for me.

It doesn't feel safe to me.

Jason's friends, the ones I've heard about, are heavier, rougher, dirtier than mine.  They smoke, they drink, I imagine there are drugs and DUIs and criminal records.  Their parties have leather and chains and my mother would die imagining all the other things that go on. 

My friends don't party as much as we used to.  We all have to deal with work and many of us have to deal with families.  Lots of our parties happen during the afternoon so people can get their kids back home in time for dinner, or at least for bed.  And even the kid-free parties that involve drinking, maybe even some smoking outside the back door, loud music and then the sober one (this is usually me these days) driving whoever else downtown to keep the night going once the couples head home (the wife usually DDs) to relieve the babysitter. 

Even the Burning Man barbecue I went to last summer was a quiet sort of different.  The smokers all hid in one corner of the lawn, being thoughtful enough to keep their smoke out of everyone else's way.  The outfits might have been less staid than somewhere else but people were friendly.  Calm.  Mellow. 

I know I don't do well with the unknown and maybe if I end up hanging out with Jason's friends I won't feel this way.  Maybe the wildness of the stories he tells me, the details he picks up and passes on aren't the whole truth of the story.  I don't know.  I just know what he tells me and I don't like it.  It's not my scene.  Not my comfort zone.  And I don't think it's a comfort zone I particularly want to try and visit.

Jason and I went for a walk on Saturday and he apologized but he had to take a call from a friend.

His friend had just received a call from the local PD department (he wasn't sure about what) and Jason was chatting to him about it and telling him not to worry but to make sure he had his ducks in a row.

As far as I know, my friends don't have these worries. 

The calls I get from my friends are to see if I'll be a reference for their passport.  Or if I'll be a reference for them becoming a Girl Guide leader.

It's not that I'm saying one way is better than the other, but I don't see how Jason's lifestyle and friends and mine mesh.  I don't see how I feel safe with him, socially speaking.

So that's holding me back, for sure.

As is the smoking.

And the two things combined just leave me feeling like I really don't know that I want to keep letting this person into my life.

We've talked about it, like I've said, here and there and all Jason says is that he understands and that he has no expectations.

If we're only ever just friends, that's ok with him.

But I'm not looking for a friend, so I keep analyzing things from the point of view of seeing him as a potential life partner.  And it doesn't feel safe.

I see too many risks and potential things that scare me, make me uncomfortable and that I wouldn't feel proud to talk about.

Things that I couldn't take home to Mom and Dad.

Even though my brother keeps telling me I take far too much home to Mom and Dad.

I don't know why I'm pushing so hard against all of this but I am.  I'm resisting so much.  It feels huge.

Which begs the question, why am I still talking to this person?

Thursday, 20 February 2014



Remember the ghost car that I wrote about?  On, whenever that was, Monday?

Yeah... so this morning, I was on my way to work and I saw the car (as usual) and jokingly said "hey guys" as if we're like this team or as if, like Anne/Chris said, they're monitoring me or something and I said "hey guys" like ha ha I'm so funny but RIGHT when I said that they flashed their lights!  THEY ARE SPYING ON ME!


A Few Thoughts

Around by foundimagination
It's odd. 

When I hang out with Jason there are times when I want to *actually* call him Jason (which is why I gave him the name here in the end) but when I go to write about him, I really have a hard time not calling him by his real name.  It's the strangest thing.

Brains are weird that way.  Mine maybe especially?

I hung out with Jason again this weekend. (Last weekend?  Is it that far away already?)  It wasn't supposed to happen, he had family plans, but they changed at the last minute and he called me up and said hey, still want to hang?

I'll tell you the good parts here, save the rest for another day maybe, but he cooked dinner for us  (And it was super yummy) and we cuddled and it was nice.

He told me he really likes me.

He tells me all the time the really positive things about me he sees and notices.

And he makes me want to be more of what he sees.

Because even if it's only him who's seeing it, I wouldn't mind seeing it too.

Wednesday, 19 February 2014

Well Then

I don't know if I "caved" or if I just felt like not fighting it anymore, but at a certain point this weekend I decided I was going to text Jay.

I thought about it, slept on it and decided that yes, I was ok with it and the possible ramifications could be handled, if they came up at all.

So I brought up iMessage on my computer and when I brought up his last messages his name went red.

"Huh.  That's odd," I thought.  And the program said that the user was not registered with iMessage.

I knew, vaguely, that Jay was going out of country to visit his son some time this month so I thought well, maybe that's what it is and I went to my phone to try to text him that way.

And, again, his number didn't work.

So I guess the Universe found a really solid way of gently reminding me to just let it be with Jay right now.

And I'm not going to mess with the Universe.

Tuesday, 18 February 2014


Light by foundimagination
I get really angry when people turn out not to be perfect.

Yeah, I know how that sounds.

When I'm getting to know people, or even when I know them already, I somehow have this vision, this idea in my head that they are perfect in all the ways I imagine them to be.

They are the friend who is selfless.  The boyfriend who knows everything about me and has memorized every word I ever spoke. 

People that I let into my life, closer than a co-worker or acquaintance, I feel like they're perfect.  And I get mad when they're not.

I get mad when the friend who is a perfect parent is grumpy and short with her kids.

I get mad when the boyfriend forgets I already told him I don't like X, Y, Z and here he is all excited about X, Y, Z for dinner.

I know this is not realistic.  I know no one is perfect.  But I still get angry and frustrated and hurt when people are less than I believed them to be.

And I feel like it just continues the cycle of me feeling like I'm always being let down by people.

I wonder just how crazy in the head this makes me....


Monday, 17 February 2014

The Eight O' Six Ghost Car

I would be lying if I said it happened every single morning, but this story would be a lot cooler if it did.

I drive the same route to work every morning.

Doesn't matter to me if it's the most efficient route, it's the route I take and I like it.

At some point in the last year (not 2014, that's too young to be called a year, I mean the last... many months) I noticed a ghost car.

Not a metaphysical anomaly car, but a police car that did not have markings.  A "ghost car".

I'm really good at spotting ghost cars (or ghost vehicles of any type) partially because I'm an observant driver.  Partially because I get car sick so from a young age I learned to keep my eyes on what was going on outside the vehicle.  And partly because I find the police paraphernalia to be obvious on the cars.  The antennae, the side mirror spotlight, the grille that usually has the blue and red lights "hidden" in it... the signs of a not-so-regular car.

So I noticed this white (ironically... get it?  "ghost"?  White?  Heh.) ghost car one morning and then started noticing it more regularly.

And at some point I realized that I was noticing it at the same point of my drive, in this particular stretch, and then I noticed that I was noticing the ghost car at 8:06.

So now I have this morning thing where I check the clock and when I'm getting close to 8:06, I'm usually in the vicinity of that stretch of the drive (I usually leave within a 5-10 minute window each morning) and sure enough, most mornings at 8:06?  I pass my ghost car.

It's probably not as cool as it seems.  I'm sure they're on their rounds and just leaving dispatch or depot or wherever and we just happen to cross paths, but yeah.  It's my morning ritual.

I left extra early last Friday because it was snowing and I wanted to make sure I wasn't rushed and know what?

I still ran into my 8:06 ghost car.  Just a little earlier and just a little further down the road.

I've taken to secretly waving at them like I'm part of their entourage.

Or team.  Or whatever you call it.

So, yeah.

That's my story.  And I'm sticking to it.

Saturday, 15 February 2014

Like Maybe Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros Kind of Thing

Wired?  I Am. by foundimagination
I had a dream the other night that was one of those "feels like it's going on all night even though I know it's probably just been the last little while" kind of intense real dreams.

I was in a band.

But, like not a rock and roll heavy metal band, sort of a rock folk kind of I don't even know it was just that we were pretty popular and right on the edge of a massive breakthrough.  Breakout.  Whatever.

I was the bass singer.

It made sense in the dream.  I was not quite the lead singer, Jay was I think, but I was pretty important front line wise.  Anyway.

Jason might have been in the band too for all I know.  Jay and I weren't together anymore in the dream, but had been, and still occasionally got together in less than sober too late nights on the road, but that was part of our creative process and part of why we snapped and quarreled but made great music together.

We were on our headlining tour and about to play the next gig which was at an outdoor summer fair.  I needed a break (from Jay? from something...) and so I decided to take the car to the next town over to get a slurpee or a chocolate bar or something.

Now turns out the area I was dreaming was the place we stayed at our first night heading down to Burning Man, the roads were all those roads.

The "car" however, was a gigantic beast.  Like two or three Hummers all put into one enormous thing.

I was decent at driving it, I guess it was my car after all somehow, (I wish you could see how big it was, like picture those giant mining vehicles and you're in the right ballpark) but getting into the little parking lot where the Mac's was, I knew parking would be tricky.  (I swear it was the Thrifty's parking lot at Galiano on Saltspring)

So I maneuvered and found a free parking spot and went to get my treats.

I was in the lineup, which was a very long lineup and very slow and I chatted a bit with the homeless man in front of me.

I had two dollars, and only needed one so I gave him my extra and then felt bad that I didn't give him both.

As the line took longer and longer to go through, I realized that I might be running out of time to get back for the gig (which couldn't go on without me, remember) so I asked one of the guys (all older, bearded rough around the edges, fallen on tough times but salt of the earth kind of guys) how long the drive was back into (name of place here) and they said it was about twenty minutes and I realized that I had to leave now to get back in time to just barely make it before the show.

So I dropped everything on the counter and left the line and ran back to my car.  Or, I should say "car".

I got there and there was a ticket on the windshield.  Which turned out to be a note.  I'd inadvertently parked in the reserved spot of the local realtor and she wasn't happy.

I didn't have time to explain myself so I just started the engine, but then her assistant came out and I tried to explain that it was the only two free spots and that my vehicle was kind of big and so tall that I hadn't seen the reserved sign and I was really sorry and I don't know man, the whole dream was really vivid and seemed so real and went on for a long while... apparently.

Friday, 14 February 2014


Wanna be my Valentine?

Thursday, 13 February 2014


Way Home by foundimagination
On my drive to work yesterday I just happened to notice a rather out of place lump on someone's lawn.

It's not the time of year for piles of leaves so I glanced over at it as I drove by and saw that it was a dead deer.

(I mean, I suppose it could have been a Norweigan Blue deer, and just resting, but I'm thinking not...)

I felt a little sad for the deer and wondered how it had died, but then my brain moved on to a different question.

That being... what do you do when you wake up and find a dead deer on your lawn?

I mean, it's not as if you can just put it in the garbage.  It wouldn't fit, for one thing.  But, what DO you do?  Do you call someone?

Who? The city?

Pest control?

I really, legitimately have no idea what you are supposed to do if you ever wake up and find that a deer has expired on your lawn.

Wednesday, 12 February 2014


I have a really hard time when people don't follow through on what they say they're going to do.

And I'm trying to own whatever may be my part in it, maybe my un-spoken expectations or something, but I don't know, it just makes me really angry.

Like, viscerally so.

Jason was going to make me dinner this weekend.

Which I was already having a weird time with because no one's really done that for me in a while, if ever, particularly and so I didn't know how I felt about a guy wanting to be nice. 

But I had that expectation.  That I would deal with him making me dinner and how that all might feel. 

Friday came and when I heard from him after work he wasn't feeling well again so I figured it wasn't happening.  That was never stated, and maybe I should have asked for clarification, but I guess I just figured it was politer not to ask the person doing me a favour when, exactly, said favour might be happening. 

We chatted a bit about dinner on Saturday, but Saturday morning, I got a text from him saying some family stuff had come up and he was having to unexpectedly deal with it.

So I sat and waited.

Which I hate doing.  Hate feeling like I'm on someone else's time and that I'm waiting around for them to bestow the great gift of their time and energy on me. 

By five thirty, I hadn't heard anything about the evening, so I sent him a short checking in message and went ahead and started making my own dinner.

But I was mad.

Angry.  Annoyed.  Irritated.  Disappointed.  Whatever. 

I ate.  Stewing.  And after dinner, he texted back that he was just making some food.

Um.  Ok.


But not.

I mean, I know that sometimes you get thrown a loop and plans change.  And maybe it's my fault for not asking clearly if he was still planning on coming over.  I guess I didn't want to ad to his stress or whatever, but I also feel like there's a certain politeness when you make plans with someone and can't or don't want to follow through on them.

Maybe it's my bad for not making the plans concrete enough once I knew his day wasn't going "normally" I don't know.  I just know I don't like wondering and felt really angry at him for not following through and even more, for not letting me know.

I'd washed my hair.  Tidied my apartment.  Expected company.

Instead, I sat and waited to hear, and even then I didn't hear what I'd expected.

Maybe it's why I'm often vague about committing to plans... maybe I don't want to do the same to someone else that I hate having done to me.

It reminded me all over again of Smith asking me how I felt about getting flowers at work the week before Valentine's day and then asking me what was the name of my workplace and then nothing happening.  Makes me feel like an idiot for looking forward to something when the person doesn't follow through and it doesn't happen.

And I hate feeling like an idiot for hoping for the best.

Tuesday, 11 February 2014

Woot Woot!

'Cil by foundimagination
I ninja'd my way into an art store the other day.

It was kind of awesome, if I do say so myself.

See, you know how I'm doing the "Drawing 365" thing with my neighbour right?  Well not last night but the night before (24 robbers came knocking at my door!) I used the last sheet in my sketch book and went to find the new sketch book.

Which I must have bought, right?  And put somewhere, right?

Except not in that drawer, or that one, or that one so... um... maybe I didn't get a new sketch book last time I was in the store even though I thought about it because I figured I had another one somewhere and since this is a run on sentence anyway did you know they blocked off that side street, neither did I when did that happen?????

So I knew I wanted to get to the art store to pick up a new book.

I had an appointment after work the next day, so by the time I raced home (and nearly peed my pants but that's another story) and checked their website, I realized it was ten minutes til closing.

And that the store is easily a ten minute walk away and that that would leave me showing up and being locked out.

So I started super speed walking to the store!

And I went a way that was maybe just slightly faster, but who actually knows, and I didn't quite run but it was heavy breathing walking for sure and I kept checking my watch and by the time I saw the door of the store it was three minutes until closing!

I was panting a little when I got through the door and the woman inside nicely, but firmly said "just so you know, we close in two minutes."

"That's ok, I know what I want." I beamed, all proud of myself for making it in time.  And I went straight to the sketch books I wanted (the burgandy cover.  the last brand I got I really didn't like the paper quality and never quite got used to it), grabbed two and went straight to the counter.

"Well, that was fast!"

"Yup.  I knew exactly what I wanted.  Kind of ran to get here."

And I could tell they'd already cashed out one till and made the other ready to go (I used to work in sales after all.  Nothing worse than the shopper who comes in at close and just casually strolls around even when you start to turn out the overhead lights.) and I paid for my books, got a thank you from the girl who had to unlock the door to let me out and skipped happily on my way to the grocery store!

I'm a super ninja spy after all, and I just so totally proved it!

Monday, 10 February 2014

I Don't Even Really Know

You know, it's funny, but I remember feeling funny when I was first spending time with Jay.

I don't think I wrote about it much here, but I do still remember these moments of feeling odd.

Certainly the first couple of days after we met and came back here, I felt completely overwhelmed and uncertain and awkward.

But the really good, awesome, fun, happy, silly times we'd had and were having between these moments of overwhelm were great.

So I'm willing to see if it's easier with Jason the next time I see him.  If I do get over how I thought he'd look v/s how he does look, and if I do let go of how easy it was with Jay and just figure out what it is I like or at least don't dislike about Jason.  Because I do keep talking to him, and I did choose to meet him, and have him stay.

Saturday night too.

A really good sleep, actually, which I don't think either of us expected.  Certainly better than my first few sleeps with Jay, or anyone else for that matter.

Not that I was in a great state Saturday night.

I'd really been happy with my time to myself but really wanted to spend more time with Jason.  I offered to go pick him up, but when I did and I saw him the whole "that's not how he's supposed to look" thing went through my head again and then he got in the car and he stank like cigarettes again and I was hating everything about it.

I told him I just needed to ignore him for a while, and I opened the sunroof to get some air and I sang along to the music and tried not to be so angry.

But I was.

Why was I spending time with an effing smoker?  I hate smokers.  Hate everything about them.  Hate how they smell and taste and this guy knows how much I hate it and he doesn't care enough to not smoke when he's going to spend time with me.

I tell him I hated tasting his cigarettes in my mouth all day and I guess he takes the not-so-subtle suggestion because we don't kiss all night.  And he doesn't go out for a cigarette Saturday night at all.

But I'm still unimpressed with both of us on this one.  Maybe me more than him as he's clearly got his addiction and that's not my fault.  My fault is allowing him to be part of my life after that first night when I learned he was a smoker.

That's my fault.  And I'm pretty pissed at myself about it.

We head to bed fairly early as I'm tired from the disturbed sleep the night before and at one point I go to curl up next to him but the cigarette smell is nauseating and I roll away and tell him he smells and I tell him how I'm feeling about everything, missing Jay and the all of it because we both feel like we'd want a relationship (be it friendship or more) that's honest and it was something I valued with my relationship with Jay.

I sleep really well Saturday night, woken a few times when he talks in his sleep a bit or when I hear something, but I also wake up and snuggle against him in my half awake state and he wraps his arm around me and kisses my shoulder and I fall back asleep.

He has to leave Sunday morning and I'm a little bummed we don't get to hang out (and how frustrating is it to want to spend time with him while being really unsure about a lot of things and actively disliking a significant thing about him) but having the day to myself to just be quiet and watch bad tv and not think is just what I need.

I nearly threw up Sunday morning.  Maybe partly the cigarettes (my dislike of them is not just emotional/mental/intellectual, it's also chemical and physical) and partly nerves and the change in routine and the what am I doing-ness of it all, but I think I only managed to not throw up because he was there and I hate throwing up in front of people.

So I had all Sunday to myself to just chill and be and that helped a lot.  Just having that time to process and not be in it.

As C-Dawg pointed out, it was a very intense weekend. 

And I'm really glad we didn't have sex.

And I told him so.  Told him that it made me feel safe and happy and comfortable because I tended to rush into things and not that we both didn't want to, but that I was really happy we didn't.

Saturday, 8 February 2014


I'll Just Pencil You In by foundimagination
I remember a similar thing happening with Jay.

We'd been emailing and chatting back and forth for a while (I can't remember now if it was weeks or a month, but a while anyway) and he asked if he could call.

I was really really nervous about it and when he did call his voice was NOTHING like I'd thought and imagined it was and I was pretty close to horrified.

I really thought I was done with the whole relationship, his voice was so much not right.  I hated the whole thing.  Hated the feeling of wrongness and akwardness and I had pretty much the same reaction with Jason this weekend.  I hid.  Didn't talk.  Couldn't.  He did.  Broke the ice.  (And of course it all worked out fine.) 

And here I was with this person who DID NOT LOOK LIKE HE WAS SUPPOSED TO and all I could do was hide.

Except it's harder to hide in person so I was, like, actually, literally hiding.

It was that same feeling of wrongness, which, no, I didn't think about until the next day.

I apologized, tried to be a little less crazy, but every time I'd look at him I was reminded about how weird it felt and so I just kept under the blanket until I calmed down a little.

Calmed down and realized that this poor guy was sitting on my couch in his coat and scarf.

What kind of a host was I?

I told him to please relax.  It hadn't occurred to me, I suppose that he was probably nervous too (maybe even just as nervous as I was?) and that my reaction was probably not what he'd dreamed of.

And maybe I wasn't what he'd thought I was either.  But I didn't care about that at that point, about what he might be thinking about me, I just knew I wasn't comfortable and that he didn't look how I'd expected.

Which... you'd think I'd be used to it by now, as I've never met someone from online who looked exactly how I thought they would.  I've met a couple who were cuter than I thought they were, but even then it's still a little odd, if a more pleasant kind of odd.

So, yeah.  Jason and I met, and I hid under my blanket on the far side of the room while he sat on a couch on the other side of the room, probably wondering what he'd gotten himself into.

Or not.  He seems pretty patient, or something.

I eventually calmed down enough to sit up, I think I offered him a glass of water, but then I'm too shy to go get it because I just want to stay under my blanket because I know he works with models as a photographer and if I stand up, he'll see my shape and gah... but he says something about how he caught a glance when I was running up the stairs (gah!) and why was I so nervous about meeting him, I've got a great body (GAH!)  (THIS GUY MUST BE A GIANT LIAR LIAR PANTS ON FIRE....or maybe not?)

And because we've chatted for a couple of weeks, there is a level of comfort there.  And it's probably good that we have chatted for a couple of weeks because had this been a "meet and greet" first date, I would have never spoken to him again.  (Except as I write that... maybe that would have been easier in the long run?)  But that's not how the Universe presented us to each other and I just keep trying to trust that maybe there's a reason we met when we did and have talked so much and maybe I should just try to see what happens... or something.

At some point Thursday he asked me what my plans were on Saturday morning and I felt a little uncomfortable with this line of questioning because I assumed he was expecting to stay over and get into my pants, but when I asked him about it he said that he'd just wanted to make sure I didn't have anything early in the morning in case we were up all night talking... as we'd been doing on the phone the last few nights (making for some very sleepy work day mornings for me.)  He told me he really didn't want to have sex, that his best relationships were ones where he waited and so although it did seem like we had some chemistry, he was not expecting to sleep over, or if he did end up staying over, he had no expectations that it would be anywhere near my bed.

But after we'd chatted for a bit.. again, I have no idea what about, and I'd progressed to the couch nearer him, and then I think I probably invited him to come sit on the same couch as me, and I relaxed more and just felt like we were having another hours-long phone conversation, I started to get tired and just wanted to lie down.

I told him I had no idea how he was supposed to sleep over.  Was I supposed to make him lie on top of my covers?

He said again, that he didn't want to have sex with me, and because I felt the same way (not that the chemistry wasn't there, it was, in a held back sort of way) I said I guess it would be ok if he stayed over and we just both had pjs on.  (We both sleep in the nude normally.)

At some point he kissed me.  I wasn't expecting it at all, but I didn't not kiss him back, and then I was shy all over again.

And then he told me he was going out for a smoke.

I didn't even know what to say.

I don't remember what I did say, but I did think about asking him to leave.  But I guess I was already used to the idea of having someone to share my bed with that night and I was sleepy and the buses had stopped running and I didn't want to have to drive him home.

But he stank when he came back in.


And I told him so.

Told him I didn't want him anywhere near me and that he was stinking up my whole house and that he wasn't even allowed in my bedroom without taking a shower and I don't know what I was feeling at that point but I wasn't impressed.  With him, or especially with myself.

His clothes stank, and I gave him something to change into and when he kissed me he tasted gross and I just hate everything about dating a smoker so much.

By the next morning I could taste the grossness in my mouth too, the stale disgusting smoke nastiness and it pissed me off.

We talked a bit, smooched a bit, slept a bit, and the next morning we just kind of lay in bed, just having slept together (just slept), and cuddled I guess, but nothing more than that.

At some point Saturday morning he went out for another smoke and I swore and gave him the finger and told him I hated it and that I would be asking him to stop smoking around me.  He said he knew that and he figured it would be happening pretty soon too.

He said, again, that he didn't think the smoking thing was going to be a big issue between us, because he'd already been on the road to quitting before I came along.

I think I don't buy this, and I think it might just end up being a really big issue between us.  Or even maybe the reason there is no us in the end.  I don't know.  

But I realized I wanted to spend more time with him (no, I can't really put my finger on why) but I also wasn't feeling 100% and wanted some space and time to myself so I asked him if he'd like to stay again Saturday night (no, I don't know why) and he said he'd like that too and he went home for a while.

It was weird but not weird and good and awkward and not what I'd imagined and uncertain but ok all at once.

I really didn't try to think too much about it, but... well, you know me.

But it was when he left that I really really really really really started to miss Jay and really wanted to talk to him and feel connected to and with him.

I could almost taste it.  That's how much I wanted what we had back again.

Everything Jason and I didn't have.

Which is really not fair to anyone.

But it is what it is.

And I don't know what any of this means or will end up being.

And I'm trying to be ok with that.

Friday, 7 February 2014

Not A Disney Movie

By Friday, I'd already had a terrifically long week, but had really enjoyed chatting with Jason every night.

It's funny (scary?) how quickly things become a habit, or something you look forward to at least.  And I really liked talking to him, even if some things he said or did rubbed me the wrong way sometimes or frustrated me or whatever.

I felt nervous on Friday, as I always do when meeting someone new.  That wasn't a surprise.  But we'd already found that we at least got along, and had lots to talk about, and we'd gotten over the initial nervousness (I can actually tell from his voice when he's feeling nervous and when he's calming down and by the end of our first week of talking it was almost like a different person.  Made me really wonder if that's how I'm coming across on my first dates...) and we talked about how the worst case scenario was that we found we weren't sexually attracted to each other, at least we would have made a new friend.

(I told him I wasn't looking for a new friend, but that yeah, I guess we already did know we liked each other on a basic level, if not a romantic one.)

Jason doesn't have a car right now (long story I'm sure... he seems to have a lot of those.  Again, I either don't care or don't want to know... or something) so he was going to get a ride from his roommate or catch the bus and I suggested that I'd rather not wait too too long, so about an hour or two after I got home from work he was on his way and then my door buzzer went and I was like... oh crap.

I've said it before that no one ever looks like their pictures, and Jason was no exception.

I remember when I first started talking about online dating, and/or maybe when I first started talking about getting to know Jay before meeting him, people warned that it's dangerous to talk too long to a stranger online because you build up this idea of who they are and when you meet them it's really strange and weird and hard to readjust.

I remember seeing Jay and thinking that he was so much smaller than I'd thought he would be.

And I remember seeing Smith for the second time and thinking that he was a lot less handsomer than I'd remembered.

And when I got to the bottom of the stairs and saw Jason, he did not look how I expected.  And this will probably go down in some book of ridiculous reactions, but I saw him, saw him being so much not what I'd imagined, or seen in his pictures, saw his smoker's teeth, which made me really question what on earth I was doing when I know how I feel about smokers and, you guys I ran away.

Like, I literally ran away from him.

I felt so shy and weirded out and who the hell was this guy who was striding into my building in his long coat that I ran up the stairs, figuring he'd follow, and hid behind my door.

I couldn't even look at him.

I mumbled something about come on in and then I ran to my couch and literally hid under my blanket.

My neighbour howled with laughter when I told her this.

I guess it is funny.

It is not at all a mature reaction, I'm aware of that, but it's what happened.

I ran away from him.


Thursday, 6 February 2014


Garbage Room! by foundimagination
Jason and I decided we would meet last Friday, and I suppose I'd talked myself into being, if not ok with his smoking, somehow pushing my hatred for it to the back of my mind.

I don't know.

But there was some chemistry between us, at least over the phone, whatever that means, and I sort of felt like I had to meet him to see.  To see what I'm not sure, but to see.

Maybe I was naive after all.

Jason got food poisoning that day though and we didn't manage to connect, but I found myself looking forward to the phone conversation I'd have that night, and enjoying having someone to talk to, and hear from.

Jason thinks I'm pretty awesome.  And while I feel like this is somehow naive of him, I suppose it's also flattering, and what I should be looking for in a potential partner.

Jason talks a lot about things that mean little to me.  His accomplishments.  Names of people he's worked with.  I find myself mentally shrugging a lot.  So?

I have my little world and that's what I know.  I'm not impressed by things that I don't understand, really. 

Except perhaps athletes.  I recently came across a very famous Canadian athlete on the dating site.  (He lives in Victoria, but I never thought he'd have to "stoop" to online dating.)  And I had a little freakout and fanned myself and knew I would never contact him never mind date him.  And I know that B sort of knows him and I find that cool.  Closer to impressive, because I've been in that world a small bit.  I know what it takes to be an elite athlete.  I know the names, the ability, the work, the talent.

Jason's world?  Means nothing to me, really.  Which makes it unimpressive to me.

I asked him at one point if he felt like he was selling himself, because that's how it felt to me.  He said no, he just was who he was.

I mentally shrugged again.

The more we talked the more I kept fighting with myself and struggling with this growing thought that Jason and I were really really not suited.

He was going out one night to a punk show.  Throwing on a leather jacket and spiking his hair.  And smoking. 

I don't want to be with a punk.  All the angry energy and middle fingers and hate, hate, hate, hate, hate.

I want to be with Jay and his peaceful energy and open heart and love, love, love, love, love.  And clean.

I explained all this to Jason.  How I felt like we were poorly suited energy wise.  I compared us to a punk and a hippie.  That he was the bleached blonde mowhawked torn t-shirts of the 80s and I was the long haired, peace love and flowered dresses of the 70s.  That I could never hang with his friends.

Could never sit in a room of them all smoking and swearing and drinking and being loud and angry and why were we even talking to each other?

He kept trying to tell me that that wasn't him.  That he was calm.  Peaceful.  Practiced mindfulness.  That he was soft-hearted.  Maybe too much so.  That his life revolved around art and making it and seeing it.

And we kept talking, every night.

I remember when things weren't going well with Jay.  When we hadn't met yet and I worried that we wouldn't be compatible.  That I worried that he'd find someone else.  That feeling of struggling against my own self which seemed to just be telling me to get out.  And now.

And that fight with myself was never fun.

And I feel like I'm doing it all over again with Jason, but for reasons I'm even less happy about.

I remember Jay telling me that he wasn't sure he could (or wanted to) stop sleeping with his friends.  And that he wasn't sure he was going to live in Victoria.  And other things I'll keep private, out of respect for him.  And how much I wanted to have nothing to do with these things, these parts of him.  But how I fought with that within myself because he was so caring, said so many loving things, and I loved so much of who he was and what he represented and stood for.  I loved him.  And I hated the panic that these things brought up in me.

But am I glad I kept talking to Jay?  Met him and had a time with him?


And maybe that's why I keep talking to Jason. 

I have no good sense of who he is, other than he talks big.

What I mean by that is he talks a lot about caring and respect and wanting an open, honest relationship with a woman who is his best friend.

And these things are all great if they're true, but I have no trust.  No trust in him, and I feel like not a lot of trust in people in general who talk big.

Jay talked big.  Said he'd never leave me.  Said so many things about how he felt and would take care of me and it was all just talk in the end.  Because Jay took care of Jay.

So I have no reason to trust or believe Jason.  And that's maybe a good thing, really.  That I won't just believe the words of someone I don't know.  It's all just words to me at this point.

Now I have to say, I'm particularly angry and frustrated with things right now, so it's not as if this has been following me around like this for the past two weeks, it's just come and gone in phases and I happen to be writing about it all now.

I talked a bit to C-Dawg about being determined to meet Jason and I felt like it's a "get this over with" kind of ultimatum for me.  I have to meet this guy or else it's just going to get weirder and weirder when/if we do meet.

I don't mention the smoking to C-Dawg.

I mention it to some other friends though.  One says "you just told me you won't date a smoker.  Why are you still talking to him?"  And all I can answer with is "I don't know."  But she's right.  So I don't mention it to anyone else.

But I keep talking to him.  Start missing my evening routines to talk to him.

Start sliding into bed with his voice on the phone in my ear.

Have conversations with him that are zinging with that chemistry, but that the logical side of me is yelling at the top of her lungs because seriously you haven't met this guy yet AND he's a smoker what on earth are you doing you bleeping bleeping idiot.

I hate it, the inner conflict.  And I'm skipping out on things I usually do in the evenings and that means I'm not feeling as settled or rested as I should but it's still nice.  And people notice that I seem happier.  Which I am.

There's this guy who likes me.  I mean, he seems to actually really like me.  And he tells me so.  Tells me I'm awesome.  And I kind of scratch my head at it, but he wants to talk to me every day.  He wants to connect with me.  He wants to know about me, and he likes what he finds.  And he tells me I'm smart, and interesting, and that he's really liking getting to know me and when I tell him that I don't know that we're a good match or that I'm nervous about dating he says he has nothing to lose.  He says he's already met an amazing, intelligent woman and that he has no expectations, but feels like we have a lot in common and connect on a lot of levels.

How is that not flattering to hear?  How is that not nice to be told?

I don't know that we're on the same page.  I'm still pretty on the fence about him and don't know that I buy what he's saying, and have no reference point for the things he's telling me so it's all just air to me right now.  Maybe we're not even on the same book, never mind the same page, but I think our books are probably at least on the same shelf.  Or in the same general area of the library.

But we made plans to meet, after two weeks worth of talking on the phone for hours at a time every damn day.

Wednesday, 5 February 2014

F#*k This

I feel like I should preface this by saying that I wrote this, and a few (most?) of this week's posts from a really unhappy place at the end of this weekend.  And to remind myself, and you guys, that this is my safe space to vent.  And to say that this all comes across as very one-sided, and my mind is not quite so one-sided, but this is all certainly on my mind right now.  < /end preface > Also, this is written backwards, if this makes sense.  I feel like a lot of this week doesn't make sense.  It certainly doesn't make sense to me. 

Ok, so I first came across Jason's profile a couple of weeks ago, right?  On my very strange Saturday.

And at the end of that first long conversation I was all "this guy is not someone I want to date for a number of reasons, but he's shown up in my life for some reason so I'll just try to let it happen.  Whatever "it" might be."

And then we talked the next night.  And the next.  And the next.  And the next.  And at the end of the first week of talking for hours each night (about I don't even know) I still had that "I don't want to date this guy, we're not well suited" thought but I figured we should meet.  Because we'd clicked about a few things and, I don't really know why I figured we should meet.

The first night we talked I heard him smoking.

If you don't know what I mean, it's a particular intake of breath, which I imagine some people can find quite sexy, but I just associate with the filthy habit, weak will, disgusting smell, breath, and teeth.

He'd said on his profile that he was a non smoker, and smoking has ALWAYS been a deal breaker non-negotiable for me so I stopped and asked him if he was smoking.

He was, but he said it wasn't a big deal for him.  That he didn't really think of himself as a smoker.  And that he was in the process of quitting again anyway.

I wish I'd hung up the phone.

That was when I told him that I wouldn't be dating him.  That I don't date smokers.  And my opinion of him fell.

I really should have just said my goodbyes, but I suppose I was bored.  Or maybe lonely?  Sad after hearing from Jay and wanting to continue the distraction?  So I just kept listening to him talk on about whatever.  But the twisting in my brain and myself had already started.

I was mad.  His profile only showed up for me because he put himself down as a non-smoker and there he is smoking.

I've talked about it here again and again, how I don't want to be with a smoker.  My first boyfriend was a smoker.  I hate it.  I always have.  I don't like being with someone who smokes, or being around them.  I can't be in a room of smokers, I end up sick.

One of my friends smokes when we go out for a walk but he never smells.  Never.  I think I've mentioned it here before, but he hid his smoking from his boyfriend for their entire relationship.  I guess he always avoided smoking around him, washed his hands, brushed his teeth after each smoke, I don't know, but it always bothered me that he wasn't being truthful.

But that's a whole other story.

Jason called me again the next day, and the next and the next and yes, I kept talking to him, and I'm frustrated that I did because I'm just setting myself up for something I don't want.  On top of whatever else might or might not come of it, he's always going to smoke.  I'm not naive enough to think that someone who has quit smoking "a few times" is ever really going to stop smoking, and I feel embarrassed and humiliated to say that I kept talking to him.

I can't even tell my friends he smokes.

I didn't even want to tell you.

Jay didn't smoke.  Or do drugs.  Or even drink.

Now, he didn't believe in monogamy either, but at least he didn't smoke.

How's that for a statement?

Tuesday, 4 February 2014


Sometimes The Colour Jumps Out At You, Especially On A Rainy Day by foundimagination
As always with these things, when I don't write about them as they're happening, I have no idea where to start, or how.

So, as I usually do, I'm just starting to type, hoping that somehow, something comes out through my fingers and that it ends up making sense, or if not making sense, at least starting to give my thinking somewhere to begin, so that I can give some order to whatever it is I'm thinking, or feeling, or wanting to say.

I'm missing Jay a lot right now.

A lot.

Wanting to call him up, to just talk.  To text him, to reconnect.  To have that safe, comfortable feeling of calm that talking to him always gives me.

Or, at least used to always give me.  I suppose I don't know if it does anymore.  We haven't talked in months after all.  Maybe it would just upset me to talk to him like it upset me to hear from him.

But I'm missing being with him.  Missing very much what we had when we were together, in the same space, hanging out.  We were pretty awesome together.

I hate that everything else sucked.

So, what's got me missing Jay?

The "new guy."

I called him something else in a post last week, but talking to him this weekend I suddenly felt like his name was Jason. (Nearly called him that.)  I asked him what his middle name was in case it was Jason and I was suddenly psychic, but it wasn't, but I figured I'd use the name anyway.  So I went back and changed his name.

As I was thinking about what all I might have to say about him, and about how I was going to change his name I realized that Jason is pretty close to Jay as a sound/word/name.  But I don't know a Jason (although I did date one once) so it's not like I'm confusing this guy with anyone.


I spent time with this guy this weekend, and I missed Jay.  Missed how I felt with him, and how easy it was and all the rest.

But I didn't call him.  Didn't text him.

Just. . . really really wanted to.

I emailed my neighbour instead.  She had me over for a bit.  I watched her fold origami with her kids. 

My friend said that if I thought I'd get what I needed from a conversation with Jay, and if the positive would outweigh the negative, I should contact him.

I haven't yet.

Maybe I won't.  I don't know.

Monday, 3 February 2014


Did you hear that? 

That was January zipping by.

I only know this because my calendar has a very small number on it again, which means either it's the start of January or we've already gone through the first month of this year.


I think it's partly because my last two weeks have had a level of intensity to them that I feel like this month flew by.  I'm not complaining, I know a few posts ago I was lamenting this time of year and wishing it was Spring but still.... I'm surprised it's already February.

And?  I get that extra bonus stat holiday (Family Day) this year.  SO EXCITED!

Yes, that's right, I'm looking forward to a day off work that's still several weeks away.

So, yeah, happy February, y'all.

Go figure.

Saturday, 1 February 2014

Prospective Perspective

Babies by foundimagination
I have a friend who split up from her boyfriend somewhere around the time Jay and I (first) split up.

My friend's relationship was a long-term one, but one of the bumps in their path was her wanting to have children and him not being sure he was ready.

So my friend has bravely decided that she is going to try to conceive a child on her own, and I'm sending her all my love and support.

And this weekend I supported her in a way I would never have expected as I helped her look over some of her potential "donors."

It struck me, how someone in her situation is looking at things like health background and family histories and how so many people just find someone, fall in love, and have a child.

I don't know if I could handle being responsible for picking the father of my child like that.  Would I blame myself for any faults the child had?  Genetic issues?  Would I wonder if any frustrating behaviours or traits wouldn't be there if I'd chosen a different donor?

I don't know how my friend is going to pick and I don't envy her situation, but it's also amazing that there are men out there who are willing to help someone in this way.

I'm not sure I have my head quite wrapped around it all, I just know I can't imagine the stress she might be feeling at this moment and I don't know that I'd be handling it even half as well as she seems to be.
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