TGIS

I feel like there's nothing much to say other than happy Saturday and thank goodness it's the weekend, eh?

I chose this photo to remind me of the gorgeous, sunny weather we had last weekend, which disappeared Monday morning and hasn't been seen since.

I sometimes wish you could bottle up sunshine and the feeling of a perfectly sunny, blue skied day and open it up when you needed a little boost.

Wouldn't that be cool?

Now if you'll excuse me, my brain and I have to go think up other fun inventions to create. Have yourself a happy little weekend and enjoy whatever weather you're getting.

Straw Poll

If you could live financially securely (no money issues) without your job, would you quit or would you keep working?

Unknown Territory

So let's imagine that I've met Steve and we hit it off (which, really, is what's likely to happen, I'm a decent person and apparently he's a decent person and we'll probably get along just fine) and we start "dating."

Now, I have to put "dating" in quotation marks because I'm not entirely sure I've really ever kind of done it before.

See, I've always just met a guy and then been in a relationship. Um, withsomesexthrowninthere. Pardon? What? Hmmm?

So the process of going on outings or dates or getting to know someone slowly over a series of events is a foreign one to me.

I did start down that road last summer with Chad. We met, our initial meeting date, and then we had another date a few days later and then we went on a movie date, and I was nervously anticipating how the whole "dating someone" thing would play out.

I remember being nervous about how I would know when a kissing moment was approaching and I remember thinking about introducing him to C-Dawg and seeing how they got along and wondering what he'd think of my apartment when he came over.

It was new to me and unfortunately, I didn't get to play it out very far, so the whole "dating" thing is still new.

So if Steve and I meet and get along and decide to date, I'll just have to go with what feels right and try to figure things out as we go.

I mean, there's probably no steadfast rules on how things progress (coffee to movie to outdoors to dinner?) and I'm sure each new relationship is different, so I'll try to just relax and see what happens.

Cuz I may not be great at being that relaxed, non worrying person, but I can always practice and learn how to be more that way, right?

Right!

(Uh Oh)

Blogger is "getting a new look" and I'm going to have to upgrade... something I've avoided. So... here's hoping things go smoothly, but if things end up out of whack, you know why!


(Hmmm, ok, nevermind. It's not yet forcing me to upgrade what I thought I had to upgrade, just the look of things... panic averted for now)

Pout

Why can't salty things be good for you?

Like, why do chips and things have to be all "mmmmm, look how yummy we are!" and then secretly be all "just pretend we're not super high in fat and sodium and have absolutely no redeeming nutritional value ok?"

I guess it's partly that I love salt. And sugar, but let's not get distracted here. And salt isn't really a great thing health wise, but why is it that all savory (read: salty) snacks are unhealthy? Even the healthy ones?!

For example, I bought "almond crackers" that are so darn tasty that my Mom and I nicknamed them "crack crackers" and they're gluten free and have healthy nut fats and protein or whatever but a handful of them are worth, like, seventeen thousand calories and dude! All I wanted was some salty goodness I mean come on!

So I guess I'm just having a little babyish, immature pouting session that things that taste good and salty can't be super healthy and good for you.

Pout, pout, pout.

*walks off stomping my feet*

Ok

So, Steve...

Steve being the name I have decided to give the co-worker's husband's co-worker that I may one day meet if all the stars align and I decided to give him this name because I've just recently fallen in love with Shameless and who wouldn't want to be Fiona and Steve, at least for the first little while and did you say all this in one breath because I typed it all in one. (But seriously, I love this show. How is everyone not raving about its awesomeness?)

Um, sorry, I distracted myself there on the Shameless site watching clips and previews and what was I talking about?

Right, Steve.

So if when I get to meet Steve, a few things can happen.

1. We can very obviously hit it off and get along and plan to go on another date.

2. We can all have a nice evening and then Steve and I report back to our respective co-workers that we both seemed like nice people and then Steve gets my phone number and calls me.

3. The evening is nice and fun but I have no idea what I think about Steve and don't know what to do next.

4. We get along politely but then one or both of us decides we're not interested enough to follow up.

5. We don't hit it off and it's ok and we'll all just move on with our lives.

6. It's awkward and uncomfortable and I corner my co-worker in the kitchen and talk strategically about how to smuggle me out the back door.

7. Some variation of us getting along and then trying to date and who knows, really and yeah.


Or maybe it's as simple as

1. There's an attraction

2. There's really NOT an attraction

3. There's the possibility of an attraction

But, yeah. In some ways, it's more fun to wonder about what he's like and if we'd hit it off, because if when we do meet, things will be whatever it is they're going to be and there'll be no more room for wondering and hoping and daydreaming.

And while I know wondering and hoping and daydreaming can be dangerous due to their ability to set me up for a big disappointment (and so yes, I've been trying to keep them to a minimum) they're still part of who I am and how I function. I can't make 'em un-be.

Anyway. If Until I meet this guy and find out what happens, I will not know. Ain't that the kicker of life?

Ahhhhhhhhh

It was gloriously, gorgeously sunny this weekend, and on Saturday a friend and I walked down to the beach and sat for an hour talking about where on earth we're supposed to meet our next boyfriends and work and cooking (or how we both don't really know how) and great tv shows.

I got home and found a collection of new freckles over my nose and cheeks; it's my yearly reminder that sunscreen is important and it's a month or so earlier than usual for that to have happened. But what a lovely reminder it was.

There's something I love so much about how my skin smells after time at the beach in the sun. Even if I had to wear long pants and a wool coat to keep warm. It's just so awesome to be able to sit there, basking away without a care in the world.

I felt it that evening, of course, lying, overheating on my couch, but even that's a treat after just last week, cuddling under my blanket as it snowed and hailed.

I love watching Spring rolling in, and this weekend was the first in what I hope is a lot of really awesomely weathered weekends this year.

Whoops

I just accidentally posted a picture and now I'm deleting it, but I'm writing this because sometimes people see posts that then don't exist when they show up and I think I got too much sun today and my brain's a little fried and I should probably stop trying to type because I keep making mistakes and hi! How are you? Pretend you didn't see anything ok? Kthxbye.

March Marched Quickly

Holy kaboley, how did it get to be the twenty fourth of March?

And, Happy Spring by the way, Northern Hemisphere goers.

This month has been an emotionally tough one for me and I'm noticing my stomach is giving me pain again for the first time in a long time so huh, let's put two and two together and come up with stress = bad, shall we?

I have this feeling that there's light at the end of the tunnel, that I'm turning a corner towards an easier time, and even if that's not true, it's a nice feeling to have. And I would tell you truly that I believe it's in no small part due to the work I did with the therapist during the most acute part of my Dad's illness. I knew it was the right thing to do, and I thank those of you on here who encouraged me to seek out help and support from a professional at that time.

As someone who's met with the gamut of "mental health professionals" from social worker to spiritual life coach to counsellor to psychologist to psychotherapist I can tell you that the money's worth it. (One of my best friends, when I was freshly broken hearted from my first relationship told me I should go see a counsellor. "I can't afford it." I told her. "It's an investment in yourself," she said. "The best one you'll ever make." Wise beyond her years, that one.)

This post really just started off about me being baffled at how quickly this month has gone and then noticing that it hasn't been the easiest one for me. I should probably stop talking now before I go on the massive tangent I can feel coming.

So, happy Spring, happy Saturday, have a good one.

Just Me?

Am I the only one who stares up at those acoustical ceiling tiles during a massage or at the dentist or something and finds faces in the little dotty patterns?

Struggling Again

Two down posts in a row...sorry about that. Rough week The Third, I guess.

Maybe I'm just one of those people who's not meant to be in a relationship.

Maybe I'm not meant to be close to people.

I can't find a man to be with me, haven't really kept a romantic relationship going for that long anyways. I don't think my family likes me much. Sure, they love me and all, that's biologically programmed and expected, but like me? Doesn't appear so. I'm just someone who doesn't quite live up to what they'd hope I would in so many ways. Constantly not quite good enough.

Friends? Sure, I've got em. But they all have their "person", their significant other, and most of them have kids; their own family. And if you read up a paragraph ago, I don't have that man in my life to be my person, I don't have that close friendship you get when you're in a committed romantic relationship. So yes, I have friends, but they'd all get along fine without me, and I've grown tough enough that I think I'd get along if they all left. Which sometimes I suspect they will, given time.

I know I struggle with things. I know I don't feel like I deserve support or love. I know I don't believe people want to take care of me and I know I get hurt when people say things in anger. I know I do my fair share of keeping people at a safe distance, I know I'm trying so hard so much of the time to reduce the hurt to cushion myself from the blows that come from caring about someone else and I think that's what has me thinking that maybe I'm just not meant to do this.

Maybe I'm only built to handle a certain hermit like level of closeness. Maybe I'm meant to live a slightly miserable life alone in the safety of my own emotional security.

I don't know, maybe I'm feeling sorry for myself, maybe this is all just a giant pity party.

I keep getting around to accepting that there may never be a significant man in my life. Right now, I feel like maybe I'm not meant to have anyone in my life. Maybe I'm just not able to handle the hurts that go along with that. Maybe I'm tired of hearing that I'm letting people down or feeling like people have let me down and so I should just not.... be with people.

Or maybe just not close. Maybe I should have a thousand acquaintances that I can keep at an arm's length.




If only I could believe I'd actually go for any of this. . .

I Felt It The Moment It Happened

It's rare for me to lose a friend.

I have some people I consider dear friends that I haven't seen for years and years. Some that I haven't necessarily spoken to or emailed in forever, other than a Christmas or birthday card during the year. But friendships, for me, are something tidal; in flux, rather than something that ends. Sometimes certain people slip away for a while, but I always know they're there. So it was shocking to me when a friendship I thought was a lifer imploded spectacularly a few years ago.

I'd invited my closest friends to get together for my birthday. Always an awkward thing for me, to celebrate myself, and I was uncomfortable, not wanting anyone to feel left out by hearing about the dinner second hand. So I sent out emails, including a couple of couples that were close to these friends of mine just so no one would feel I'd been rude or unkind.

Almost everyone was able to come (except for my very pregnant friend and another who couldn't find someone to babysit) and I'd guessed that this particular friend and his wife would probably not both be able to make it as they had a new baby, so I was pleased when his wife showed up, it meant she was getting a good evening away from being a Mommy even though it would have been great to see both of them.

We had a yummy dinner and a nice night and some great stories were told and it was a very memorable birthday celebration for me all told. I was pleased I'd taken the risk to ask people to come, it was kind of a big deal for me.

It was a shock to me therefore to get a text later that evening from the wife telling me that her husband was disappointed that there were couples and husbands there. He'd assumed it was a "girl's only" evening.

I apologized as profusely as one can via text at 12:30 am, but I felt horrible and guilty (as is my way) so I sent him an email apologizing for the misunderstanding. I felt awful, and it put a huge damper on my birthday evening.

I got an odd, angry, terse email from him the next day and when I responded, he told me if I wanted to clear up the "misunderstanding" (he put it in quotes...my first indication that we were on very different pages) I had to talk to him in person.

So I did. I drove over, mightily confused and wanting to assure him that I hadn't *not* invited him as he was assuming, but that I had wanted both of them to be there.

But he wasn't listening. He went off as they say, and I stood at his door, mouth agape. He tore a strip off of me for being "embarrassed" to have him as a friend and how I'd "purposely" only sent the invitation to his wife whereas I'd "obviously" sent it out to other men and husbands.

I was stunned. Dumbfounded. Shocked.

I held myself together and calmly told him that I understood that he was upset but that he was wrong and that this was all a big misunderstanding.

He wasn't listening and he didn't believe a word I was saying.

I don't remember most of what he said, but one phrase has stuck in my mind.

"If you'd only just stop caring what people thought of you, you would have invited me and not cared what anyone else would have thought of me." He yelled.

And that's when it hit me.

He was right. I needed to stop caring what he thought of me.

He was treating me horribly, not listening to my side of the very simple story and had said very hurtful things. This wasn't how a friend treats a friend and I needed to stop caring.

I told him once again that I was sorry. That I heard where he was coming from and could see why he was hurt. But that he'd misunderstood.

I felt the friendship end in that moment, certainly from my side.

Sometimes the damage done is irreparable.

"Aren't you coming in?" he said, obviously calmer now he'd had his say and told me what was what.

"No." And I left.

And although I tried to continue a friendship with his wife, it wasn't sustainable and the three of us aren't in a friendship anymore. Which, sometimes makes me sad and sometimes makes me angry. I'm not yet at a point where I see it in a positive light. It was all so extraordinarily hurtful and wrong and ugly. Even just writing about it again has gotten me riled up and hurting all over again.

I can probably make a list of the times I've felt a relationship break. And it's never pretty. And only sometimes is it worth slapping a band aid on and working to fix the break. When the hurtful thing said to me is too large? I can't. But sometimes I do, sometimes it's only a flesh wound.

This wasn't one of those times and at the time, it was one of the hardest things I'd ever gone through. But as they say, what doesn't kill you makes you stronger and the whole thing certainly did. I'd rather it had never happened, to be honest, but it did, and I made it through.

What I wonder, though, sometimes, is about the moments in a romantic relationship where I feel that same break? But keep on going, pushing through, hoping for the best. It hasn't served me well in those cases. Would I have kept on trying to make things work with this friend if we'd been romantic partners? I like to think not. But I wonder. And why would sleeping with someone make me think it's ok for them to treat me poorly?

In Which A Dishwasher Becomes Allegorical

(No, seriously.)

So when they kicked us all out of our building back in August they told us that part of the extensive renos they'd be gutting the kitchen and because of that, they'd be putting in new everything, including a dishwasher.

Now I don't know how it is where you live, but here, apartments (especially the older ones, which most of them are) don't have dishwashers. So those of us who were returning to the building were all pretty excited at this addition. I haven't had a dishwasher since I moved out of my parent's place (except for when I lived with what's his name in the house we were going to live in once we got married and oh, right, that's not this story) and haven't really missed having one. Can't miss what you don't have and all that?

So as long as I've lived on my own, I've washed my dishes by hand. When I stayed with my parents for those few months while we had to be out of the building, I kind of found it hilarious just how clean my mugs got in their dishwasher. (Yes I brought my own, favourite mugs with me when I stayed there. Things just taste better out of my mugs!) And I looked forward to seeing just how clean things would be once I had my own dishwasher in my sparklingly new kitchen.

But, of course, as these things go (or so I've been told), construction doesn't ever (?) go as smoothly as planned and we were told, when we moved back in, that there was a holdup with the dishwashers.

Insert very intelligent information here about how the water system in this old building wouldn't handle the new load from the dishwashers which meant new...er.... bigger? water mains and that, apparently, had to go through the city/municipality, which meant we had to wait.

I was only a little grumbly about this, as the empty dishwasher hole was a great place to put my recycling boxes. A few of my friends (and my folks) thought we should get a reduced rent for not having a promised appliance, but it wasn't worth it to me to go down that route, so I waited.

They told us it'd probably be January, but that didn't happen, and then February came and went and my recycling bins sat happily in their spot.

What *did* happen near the end of February is that the city came and started digging up lawns and sidewalks and all sorts of exciting things. And that went on for a good three or four weeks.

Fast forward (or reverse really, if you want to be chronologically accurate to today's date) to last week when we were gleefully informed (ok, we were just informed, but I was pretty gleeful about it) that our dishwashers were arriving and ready to be installed. TA DA! I was so excited I told everybody. The dishwashers are coming, the dishwashers are coming! My friend in the building and I practically jumped up and joy with glee at the prospect. (Ok, I may have actually jumped a little.)

So the plumber guy came by to install the dishwasher last weekend, and I was here, awkwardly turning down the volume on my newest addiction, but then feeling even more awkward that there was no, like noise to distract him from the fact that I was ten feet away in another room, to hear him mumbling away.

Meanwhile, I'd sent excited texts and emails to my parents and friends. "It's HERE! My DISHWASHER!!!!!!!! I can have clean dishes! YAY!" My Dad emailed back, asking if they could bring a load of dirty dishes by. I giggled; it was the exact joke I'd expected to hear. My friends were excited for me, most of them having lived in older suites or basement suites at one point, and knowing how rare it is to have a dishwasher in an apartment.

After the plumber's second trip to the circuit box, I asked him if everything was ok.

Um. No.

Turns out that while the electrical was all technically hooked up, it wasn't actually working. And while no one really knew why, they figured it was some kind of safety precaution the electricians had taken.

So after a few phone calls, buddy installed the dishwasher and hooked it up, promising me that once the electrician came by, it would work perfectly.

I emailed back my parents. "Sorry, you can't bring your dishes by today, the thing doesn't have electricity!"

"Well", said my Dad, "At least you have a new cupboard!" (My Dad's awesome. I laughed. He rules.)

We got an apology email from the building, saying that the dishwasher saga would soon come to an end once the electrician got in to fix whatever wiring needed fixed in the suites.

But, of course, sagas rarely end smoothly, and the poor electrician had to do some fiddling to get the electrical box off the wall where it'd been painted over (guffaw!) but then lickety split and a twist here and there and I had a fully functioning dishwasher.

And here's the thing. Do I love it? Yes. Are my dishes amazingly, spectacularly clean? Yes. But do I need it? Can't live without it? How did I ever cope before? Would I die if they took it away? No. No, no, and no.

So it didn't bother me that it wasn't ready to go on that first day. I found it rather amusing. Perhaps I was the tiniest bit upset, having planned out how I'd load it full of my tea-stained mugs and see them glistening by eventide, but it made me realize, when you don't need something and it's just a nice surprise that you're not really all that invested in and have gotten along just fine without, it's not a problem when things don't go perfectly.

I'd never had a dishwasher in this apartment, so I didn't notice the extra months of hand washing particularly. And the debacle of the installation? *shrug* Just kind of gave me something else to look forward to. I'd lived just fine without the thing, so it wasn't upsetting that I couldn't have it right that first moment.

Which is where the whole allegory thing came to me.

I don't need certain things in my life. Like a dishwasher, or an expensive convertible sports car. So it doesn't bother me that I don't have them.

But there are certain things in my life that I don't need.... but I still want. Like a boyfriend. And that's where I'm getting stuck and upset and hurt and disappointed. And bothered.







(Which makes it ultra ironic that when I was chatting to a friend's Dad the other day and I mentioned that I'd "gotten a dishwasher" he, with a twinkle in his eye, said "Oh, you're dating?"

Heh.

I wish.)

Randomly

Sometimes there are stories or thoughts in my head that want to come out, but the idea of sitting and typing/writing them out seems somehow overwhelming so I put it off and put it off.

Kind of similarly, I know how much better I'll feel mentally and physically after I go to the gym but the idea of going and having to do all that work seems overwhelming so I sometimes put it off.

There's often a lot of back and forth "talking" that goes on in my brain. "I should go to the gym." "But I don't want to." "But I'll feel better after." "But I feel fine now." "But I haven't gone in a few days." "But I want to watch just one more episode and it's so comfy lying on the couch." "But I only have so much time." "But really is it worth the effort when it'll probably be busy right now." And usually after a few days of the lazier of the two voices winning on whatever argument I'm having with myself, I get annoyed or frustrated or extra blah and I do something about whatever it is I wanted/didn't want to do.

Like, really, this post. This is a perfectly nonsensical and unnecessary post but it's gotten me back in the mojo or flow or whatever it is that I didn't have over the last few days when those stories and thoughts were just sitting there in my head knocking at the walls trying to get told. Imma trying to say something here, I gots me some stories to tell, but I'm a little bit busy having what appears to be a civil argument with myself. In my brain. About a lot of things.

How was your weekend?

Growing, I Suppose

I'm going through something right now.

I decided/recognized this yesterday after yet another weird week of feeling....off about a lot of things.

It's one of those "times of transformation" sort of deals where there's a lot of figuring out of things that, while not exactly pain free, aren't necessarily bad things to figure out.

Things about me, I guess, and how I feel about me and things I do and don't do and maybe want to do or am afraid to do and how I feel about myself and other people and who other people are and show themselves to be and what it all means.

Caterpillar cocoon butterfly sort of thing except I'm not sure this is the struggle that takes me quite to butterfly yet. Or maybe it will be and I just won't know because there's still the drying of wings that has to happen when you break out of those suckers.

And plus, it's not like a butterfly's life is going to be nothing but air...to steal a sports metaphor.

So anyway, whatever it is that's going on is going on and ongoing and I'm just here trying to not avoid it too much. Or at all, if possible.

It's weird being me.

And happy St Paddy's Day while we're at it.

In Which I Refer To The Weather

The weather this week has been very . . . March-like.

And for anyone who's spent an early Spring around these here parts, you know what I mean.

I don't know about you, but I grew up with a nursery rhyme type thing where April showers brought May flowers and the only other line I remember is "March comes in like a lion and out like a lamb."

Well, this March has come in more like a crazy person who is making the choice not to take their meds for a while.

This week alone, we've had snow, POURING rain, freezing coldness, crazy wind (power outage crazy), gigantically sunny blue skies, hail, and almost everything in-between. (If there's anything left to be in-between.)

But March weather just makes me smile. It's a constant mystery as to what's going to turn up in the next hour or two, never mind what tomorrow's going to bring.

So, yeah. This March is being very lion like right now. (Or crazy person like.)

Now if you'll excuse me, I'm just going to go turn up the heating a bit. In March.

Go figure.

DST Can Bite Me

Yup, the time change got to me.

Oh, I did fine the first couple of days; getting up "early" on Sunday and being all proud of myself because it was actually really early because 8am was really 7am and look at me, I'm going to beat this thing!

But by Tuesday, I was all confused. I was super tired when I attempted to get up at the supposedly regular but not really regular time, and I wasn't hungry by lunch even though I'd been starving by eleven the day before. And then suddenly it was 7:30pm and I hadn't had dinner yet and then I was trying to fall asleep at 11:30 but my legs wouldn't relax and it took me a while to turn over and then it's dark again in the mornings and man oh man, does anyone make it through the time change unscathed?

From what I can tell, none of us like it, and none of us particularly want it (except perhaps when it's late in the evening and the sky's not quite completely dark) and I don't know why we keep doing it and seriously, it's an entire hour's difference. It's jet lag without the added fun of a vacation!

So here's to feeling hungover all week while still being unable to get the time straight and waiting for our bodies to adjust to how things are going to be for the next few months before we do this all over again and I start complaining about how short the days are.

Ugh.

This Is Either Me Growing Up, Or Becoming More Jaded

But this friend of my friend that I'm going to meet (or the next guy, for that matter) isn't going to be perfect.

He isn't going to be all the things I dream of, secretly and outloud, in a boyfriend/potential husband.

He can't possibly be the exact combination of things I imagine my guy being and so I'm trying not to be disappointed by that before even meeting him. Or someone.

If I had to, I could probably write a list a mile long of the traits I'd like in my future life partner type fellow, but I think I've either lost or given up the idea that that list is actually fair or can be matched to a real, life, not made for tv person.

This guy can't possibly be perfect, and I think it's the first time I've known that *before* meeting someone, and I'm not sure what that sets me up for.

This Video Made My Weekend

Tough Guys Sing Savage Garden - Truly Madly Deeply Do

Boing Boing*

I got all excited on Saturday when I remembered that this was the "Spring Forward" time change weekend. My evenings would start being even longer, with even more light than they've already gotten, hurrah!

But then my alarm went off Sunday morning (don't ask) and I remembered the down side to this time change... the mornings get darker again, and are suddenly much much earlier than they need to be.

Meaning, this morning, I'll have to be out of bed at what will feel like 6 instead of what should feel like 7.

I managed to get myself hungry in time for a pretty close to on time dinner Sunday night but then was still hungry for the rest of the evening so somehow that backfired on me.

But, yeah. Time change. I forgot this was the one where you lose an hour's sleep.

And I miss it already.




*It's the noise a spring makes, of course.