Seeing Red

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Does anyone out there not fight?

Break Up With Her In August

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

At least twice.

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

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


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

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

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

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

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


July - Spirit of the West

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

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

September is here, let the real New Year begin.
October wears the colour of a rusting piece of tin.
November we remember, pin a poppy over your left breast.
But December is a battleground for those of us who get depressed.

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

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



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




Happy Summer, everyone.

Mini Rant

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

GIVE ME A BREAK!

Life Is A Highway

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

Allow me to explain.

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

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

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

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

Sigh.

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

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

Like my car.

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

So Tricky! Answers Revealed! Crowd Awestruck!*

People, I have never dated a laywer!

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

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


*or maybe just slightly amused.

Truth Hurts

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

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

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

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

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

Ouch.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Hurts to hear the truth sometimes, huh?

And Now We Have Your Weekend Update

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

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

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

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

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

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

Did that make any sense?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Wha?

We now return you to your regularly scheduled programs.

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

One Of These Things Is Not Like The Others

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

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

So here goes. . .

I have dated all but one of the following:

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


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

Guess away in comments.


Answers revealed in a few days!




*Guffaw

OK

Mutts

This is Why You Get Rid of All The Pictures

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

All over again.

Requiem for A Summer

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

This one goes out to Summer. . .

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

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

Aural Gratification

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

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

It's like an amazing internal harmony.

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


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


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

Men, Activate Your Manly Shields!

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


ahhh hah hah ha hah hah haah. Sorry.


I either need caffeine or sleep.




Is it too early for ice cream?


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

Decompression Chamber

Ugh.

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

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

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

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

I'd Have to Agree

With Kyle about Stardust.

I loved it!

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



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

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

*sigh*

Remedy

So I had a bad day yesterday.

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

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

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

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

Or, at least, not make anything worse.

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

I'll let you know how it goes.

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

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




(Please don't make me go back)


(PLEASE?!)

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


Updated to add: Noooooooooooooooo! Please, nooooooo!

Mistakes. All Over Again

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

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

Um. What?

"This is my fault." says my brain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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




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

Hubba Hubba

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

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

My whole apartment smells really really sexy right now.

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

Bom chicka wah wah.

I should probably open some windows in here.

Things I Know

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

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