Here's yer witty post now shaddup

For the "embarrassing moment of the month" to win ladies!

So a couple months ago I discovered a place close to work that teaches Western Martial arts, aka swordfighting, yada yada. I fenced many years ago and decided it was something I would like to get back into. I’ve never been all that great at joining in group things but I go with my usual just suck it up and do it mantra.

Thing is I am always paranoid of making a bad first impression with people in places where I will be spending some amount of time. If it were a one shot deal no problem I normally don’t give a shit and so am far more comfortable. In Europe? I’d talk to almost anyone with no care, hell I’ll never see them again! But at this new place I am not only going to have to show up but end up performing in certain weaponry manner in front of other people. All kinds of potential for all kinds of humiliating experiences especially when you’re talking about me….

So the other week I leave work to go to class which is several blocks away. I make sure I look my best, always something that makes me feel more confident. I self-talk myself into the confident out going person I know I can be and off I go! It’s just a rapier class, what could possibly happen?

On this particular day there's a rain and wind warning and let me tell you they weren’t fucking kidding. But things are going fine as I walk down the streets hunched under my umbrella trying to block the wind and the rain from completely destroying my hair cuz god forbid I should get there looking Bellatrix Lestrange. Going fine until I am about half way there that is. Then mother nature decides to blow a massive gust of wind turning my umbrella inside out and hurling it with me in tow into a construction fence with a rather loud, attention drawing BANG courtesy of some big sign we had just knocked over. I curse and wrestle against the gale force winds refusing to give up on my umbrella without a fight. I still had about 5 blocks to go! But mother nature? She had a one track mind and kicked that umbrella’s ass like she was Buffy the vampire slayer on a bad day and my umbrella was some sensitive sparkly Emo vampire named Edward.

I wrestle with it the rest of the way, trying to keep as dry as possible but to no avail...the torrential downpour battering down on me is relentless. And the wind, still not satisfied with ripping my umbrella to shreds is still thirsty for that last piece of it and not letting up in the least til it gets it.

But I make it! I am at the academie standing outside but now instead struggling to get it working enough to keep me sheltered from the weather, I am struggling to close the damn thing. But all the little spines were now poking out all over the place at odd angles and so I am now fighting another battle entirely. And yes this place it ALL window looking out onto the street. My insecure self is convinced that everyone from inside is surely watching my epic struggle, the likes of even the most seasoned of the sword masters have never seen! I panic. Dear god if I can’t handle a mere umbrella how will I be able to wield a rapier?

I manage to get it kind of halfway closed but spines are still sticking out in various places, the fabric is soaked, floppy and pathetic looking and the entire thing is bent at an angle not natural for a healthy umbrella. But I admit defeat because it just ain't going to get any better than that. So now I open the door and swoosh into the academie on a gust of wind and although I don’t dare look up, my paranoid self simply KNOWS all eyes are on me. The wind has done damage to my hair the likes of only a mix master could accomplish, my face is tear stained from the wind stinging my eyes, I am sniffling from the cold, I got soggy, brightly colored fall leaves stuck in a vast array to my high heeled black boots, and I am dripping wet.

On the bright side from that point things can only get better right? Let’s hope so because I haven’t even mentioned the falcons they have there…..and if you recall certain past experiences, me and animals? Not a good mix….

Saying farewell to the bachelorette diet

I know I promised a witty post, but nothing all that witty is going on...lol...maybe someday soon.

Let the healing begin! I started the Specific Carbohydrate Diet (SCD) on Tuesday September 7. (Basically the following is not allowed: sugar in any form, any grains, so no breads, pasta, granola, etc , no starchy veggies like potatoes, no RUM or chocolate…) It hasn’t been all fun and games let me tell ya. Well the week before was, though sadly so. I allowed myself to indulge in all the things I wouldn’t be able to have once I started on this diet. Plus I was NOT going to let go to waste my homemade perogies and cabbage rolls in the freezer. I cried a lot. I know that is SO pathetic, but with each last bite or sip of one of my favourite things I teared up. Mock me if you will but I love my food, my Starbucks Chai Lattes and of course my rum and cokes. I can’t imagine being without them for a year or two or three. Course there was the underlying issue of, “I just got back on my feet after the last bullshit, why is this happening to me?” Pity parties are allowed for a time but then at some point you have to put your big girl panties on and just deal with it cuz what else are ya gonna do?

I armed myself with knowledge of this SCD and even bought a couple of SCD recipe books. There are also tons of sites on the net with recipes and support. A real nice lady, Gail, even emailed me a tone of links. So many people have gone on this diet so at least I’m in good company.

The last two weeks have been a busy time of clearing out my fridge and cupboards of things I can no longer have, which was basically a good 99% of what was in them. Then I did a lot of shopping to restock things I CAN have. I also had to buy kitchen-y things like baking sheets, loaf pans, spatulas, etc for cooking these SCD recipes. I felt like a 20 year old moving out of the house for the first time. Okay I admit it, I was the bachelorette type. I was happy with just a toasted tomato sandwich for dinner or grabbing a couple slices of pizza on the way home, or even a Subway sandwich. “Cooking a meal” was something I very rarely did. I live alone, have only myself to cook for so why go through the hassle? There’re other things I would rather spend my time on than cooking. Sure occasionally I went all out and made those homemade perogies and cabbage rolls, but even then portions would get put into the freezer only to later be conveniently reheated.

But now? Not so simple. Everything I buy or consume, I have to think first “can I eat this?” Going out to eat is a thing of the past for now. And people have been laughing at my grumbling about having to cook now but this is beyond cooking. Everything and I do mean EVERYTHING has to be made from scratch. Bread (only with nut flour, no yeast), tomato sauce, ketchup, mayo, soup…. There is NOTHING out of a can/jar/container that I can have since it ALL has sugar in it, even something as basic as soup stock.

One blessing in all this is I can still have wine though it must be dry. But hey, while there is wine there is hope…

As if almost dying from laxatives wasn't bad enough...lol

Okay so normally I try to be somewhat entertaining and god knows my life supplies plenty of material for that. But the following post may lack much hilarity but I have to post it cuz I am tired of having to type it all out for everyone who’s asking…lol…I'm certainly not posting it up cuz I wanna do the wah me thing to y'all. And sorry it’s a long read, but I promise to make all this up with a witty post asap!

My previously mentioned colonoscopy was all “A” okay ‘cept for one bit that seemed” misshapen”. Since I was whacked out on sedatives during the doc’s explanation that’s about as detailed as I can get….lol. Anyways that led to me getting a CT Scan which led to the discovery that despite my lack of symptoms whatsoever I have severe Crohn’s Disease. I no I am not questioning the diagnosis since it’s all there in black and white. As much as I don’t want this, I got it.

So he discusses treatment with me which of course only involves on choice, medication. This particular one works by suppressing your immune system and stopping the disease from progressing. (Crohn’s is considered an autoimmune disorder, with the immune system running overload. So hey let suppress it as opposed to…umm…fixing it? Yeeaaahhhhh ) And if that doesn’t set off warning bells in my head the fact that I would have to undergo regular blood work to detect any liver enlargement, bone marrow loss and cancer certainly has them ringing in deafening tones.

Now the thing with me and not having any symptoms is that I never know when the disease is actually active. My bowel could have been looking exactly like this for years, or it could be getting progressively worse as we speak. And if I hadn’t gone in for my regular colonoscopy I wouldn’t even have known. So the other option he gave me was to not take anything and get retested in a year and compare.

Too much to decide on the spot so I ask him to write down the name of the med he wants me to take and I’ll think about it. He writes it down but then warns me off looking it up on the internet. “The internet is a dangerous place,” he says,” you’ll read all kinds of scary things like cancer…” Umm okay so you want my to just blindly take a medication without thought, without looking into it myself to make an informed decision about what I put into MY body that’s going to affect MY health and? Are you joking?

So after going for lunch with a friend and indulging excessively in cool and refreshing beverages of the alcoholic kind, I start my research. Aside from the possible liver enlargement and bone marrow loss, the regular side effects I can expect are: hair loss, fatigue and of course a suppressed immune system, causing me to catch everyone’s cold and flu that I even remotely come in contact with. Oh and lets not forget this cancer thing. The drug is actually considered a carcinogen. Now if he cared to look he would know that every person on my mom’s side of the family has died of cancer. I’m about as high risk as you can get. So is it really a good idea to take a carcinogen? Call me crazy but I think not.

Further research reveals a few support forums for those suffering from this disease. Every person who’s on meds talks about less flare-ups, no flare-ups, remission, remission is over have to change meds, etc. Not one person actually talks about healing. Yet everyone on this Specific Carbohydrate Diet talks about getting better to the point of actual healing….tests even showing no more disease.

So my plan of attack is no meds, do the diet and I seeing a naturopath who practises a variety of things like, herbal medicine, ancient Chinese medicine, acupuncture and homeopathy. I wanted one who knows a variety of treatments in the hopes he’d know what will work best. Since my disease is severe I wanted to compliment the diet with some natural treatments. Also the problem with me not having any symptoms it will be hard for me to know what’s working until I get retested in a year so I figure do as much as I can. The diet will be hard, but the diet I follow right now during the week is almost the same: no sugar, no bad carbs. There are a few other things I would have to cut out and also my weekends of having whatever I want will be now a distant memory. This diet has to be followed 100% until you are completely healed, them some cheating is allowed.

I actually would really like to do the worm therapy. Yes, you ingest hookworms, but yes it actually cures the disease. They don’t reproduce on your system and you can take a pill at any time to get rid of them. And no they aren’t like the ones that eat your brain…lol. Those who have been on it are healed and now enjoying indulging in all those previously forbidden foods. How does it work? “In order to live as a parasite inside the human, the parasite must convince the host's immune system to chill and not try to reject it. With hookworms, they secrete a chemical that distracts the immune system, dampening down its response. Hookworms are common in undeveloped countries, places where inflammatory bowel disease is rare. Studies suggest the presence of hookworms in the human gut may be beneficial, secreting a chemical that turns off an overactive immune response.” (credit http://cbs5.com/health/hookworm.treatment.therapy.2.1016319.html)

I would really like to do this. It’s certainly less effort that following the diet 100%. And it seems to correct the immune system which is something that I really would like. My ONLY problem with the worm therapy is the $3,900 price tag. Getting better shouldn’t cost so much….

This all sucks and yeah I spent a good two days existing in the depths of despair. But at some point I found my big girl panties and my fuck you attitude and I feel energized now and ready to take on the world………………..without chocolate…-sighs-…but at least I’ll still be able to have wine.

Who needs that silly blood pressure thing anyways?

During my last physical I mentioned I was due for a colonoscopy. I was blessed with a talented colon; it possesses the innate ability to grow potentially precancerous polyps at an age where I shouldn’t even be remotely thinking about them. (I’m not THAT old!) So lucky me has to have this procedure every 5 years or so to have them removed.

So my spiffy new doctor sends me to a spiffy new gastroenterologist. It came up in conversation that I only take half the “prep”. Prep being all the shit they make you take the day before the procedure to ensure your colon is sparkly clean enough to eat off of. Wha?? He tells me they have newer gentler stuff and that I should take the whole thing.

Fast forward to day before procedure. The two packets of stuff I had to take during the say made me agree with him wholeheartedly, hey this wasn’t so bad at all. It even tasted better than that other shit that I’m sure was some sort of mixture of trucker cab mattress squeezings and nuclear waste along with the obligatory hint of lemon. So far so good except that my first foray into the bathroom yielded a horrible discovery…MY TOILET IS SUDDENLY AND INEXPLICABLY BROKEN. Are you kidding me?! Now of ALL times!? I jimmy it, to make it kinda work cuz at this point I am NOT having anyone over.

Before bed I had to take two tablets of something, although at this point I KNOW I got nothing left in me but I trusted this new doc about taking it all. About 5am I’m forced to bound from my bed for more purging fun….aka some INCREDIBLY INTENSE purging fun. Problem is there is nothing left in me and I wonder at what point when there’s nothing left does your body start purging vital organs? And then my body starts to feel REALLY inexplicably fucked up. My temp suddenly spikes and I instantly start pouring sweat. I don't know what to do cuz I can in no way get up to get the phone and call like maybe 911. Besides my place is kinda messy and do I want paramedics over? Imminent death vs guys seeing my messy apartment…hmmmm. Finally I am able to venture out. I get up but my legs feel like pliable rubber. I stumble and then promptly faint.

Each time I woke up I tried to get to the phone, but my body would do the “no we are laying down again RIGHT NOW” thing. My legs stayed in rubber mode, my head swam, I was cared shitless…pardon the pun. It took me about two and a half hours and a visually entertaining combination of staggering, fainting, crawling, stubborn determination (because I refuse to die from laxatives, I just REFUSE! I survived a wolf, I can survive shitting) and fervently praying but I finally made it to the phone! Ha ha victory! Fuck you, you can’t keep a good girl down! I call the clinic where I will be having the procedure. Relief flows over me when someone answers and I know that surely they will send a team over right away to tend to my dying personage. I tell her what’s happening to me and she says to me in a sing song happy cheery voice that it's just a reaction to the prep, don’t worry. Wtf? I repeat – I keep fainting! "Oh yeah it’s just your blood pressure dropping that can happen don't worry, just drink lots of water." Dumbfounded doesn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling at that point.

In the end I survived the purging, dangerously low blood pressure, slight concussion, dehydration and the vast disappointment of only getting some lame ass sedative that was no fun at all instead of the highly anticipated shot of Demerol. Fuckers…

I am in a quiet room

Do not stand at my grave and weep,
I am not there, I do not sleep.

I am in a thousand winds that blow,
I am the softly falling snow.
I am the gentle showers of rain,
I am the fields of ripening grain.

I am in the morning hush,
I am in the graceful rush
Of beautiful birds in circling flight,
I am the starshine of the night.

I am in the flowers that bloom,
I am in a quiet room.
I am in the birds that sing,
I am in each lovely thing.

Do not stand at my grave and cry,
I am not there. I do not die

by Mary Frye


Still miss ya mom, even though I know you're around and even with that thwap on the head....it might take a few more for me to get it as dense as I am...lol

What happens when you mix two Canadians, the US of A and a Newfie GPS?

So my partner in crime from my Europe adventure came out to visit me a couple weeks ago. Rather than hanging out here like we always do we decided to rent a car and head on down to Seattle for a little USA fun.

Now being rather impressed with the GPS that my cousin had brought with him on the Provence leg of our previous trip, (other than that one time it had us driving through some farmer's crop) I asked Trish to bring the GPS that her husband had bought her for Christmas. (-shrugs helplessly here- I know…). So anyways I pick her up at the airport and then we were off!

After making it to the border we spent the time waiting in line by setting the GPS up. There were a few different voices to choose from and we choose the male, Richard. Now why we didn’t pick a female is beyond me. My head was going towards a sexy male voice when I should have remembered the golden rule of trips…men and directions are like oil and water.

Add to that the time on the GPS was a half hour ahead of what it should be. A half an hour!!? It doesn’t take a genius to realize that we are dealing with some sort of Newfie made device. You can’t fool us! And in typical Newfie style we were sure Richard drank heavily. If he didn’t at that point he was sure gonna start after dealing with us. Ohhh yeah you do NOT want to go against what Richard says. As you take a right instead of the instructed left you could almost hear the annoyance in his voice as he repeated turn left, turn left, over and over again….and then begin to sputter directions in a vain attempt to get us back to where HE thought we should be going. (but hey we HAD to get off the road and eat at some point!) In the end I think he pretty much gave up. You could almost here him sigh in defeat as we blatantly defied his directions! In the end he got his little revenge by having us drive about in a shopping mall parking lot for a while before getting us back onto the highway.

But the revenge wasn’t over yet! Oh not by a long shot. After lunch we decided to kiss and make up with Richard and smartly put the address of our hotel in the GPS, deciding to just TRY and trust him from this point on. I was leery at the way he was taking us to the hotel after getting off the I5 but I pushed aside my doubts and followed Richards’s confidently spoken directions. That is until we ended up at a Shell gas station wherein he triumphantly announced that we had reached our destination!

Uuummm….not so much. We looked about thinking the hotel HAD to at LEAST be close by. Nope, couldn’t see it. I decide to drive around a bit and see if another “approach” would get us to our hotel. The second attempt ended just like the first, with Richard announcing once again that we had arrived at our destination, the Shell gas station!

With Richard now gagged and bound in the backseat of the car, we followed the street numbers aided by the map and found the hotel OURSELVES.

Ha! Take that Richard!

(I never did ask what Trish did with the GPS when she got back home. I'm wondering if "talking out your asshole" has taken on a whole new meaning in her household)

Adventures in Dating Part Seven/Happy Canada Day

Thought I would combine something Canadian-ish with something reflecting my adventures in dating. (Only some of you will get how this really applies...lol)

We interupt this regularly scheduled program....

cuz I need a fuckin' break. I am off to Seattle to have a much needed rest and have some fun. There won't be any Charring Cross or Yorkshire, but hey, it's "away" and not at work. I'll leave you with the ultimate of vacation music videos....ahhh yes....hope it's this good....

Adventures in Dating Part Six

I recently began seeing a new doctor. I had begun to get the very distinct feeling that I was wearing out my welcome with the old one. Not my fault of course…-insert shifty eyes and a slight clearing of the throat here-! It’s certainly not that I LIKE going to the doctor. Weird shit just happens to me and those that know me are nodding their heads in collective agreement as we speak.You just don’t make up shit like almost losing an eye due to a Pilates band mishap, hiking+low lying branches=more eye mishaps, or having my new $100 Calvin Klein bra (the only one in the entire store that is my size because apparently I am some sort of freak) give me a lump the size of a large olive on my boob convincing me I had an advance stage of breast cancer, leaving me with mere hours to live. But come on, at least she wasn’t around for the whole “wolf thinking me tasty” experience or the “attack of the perverted/in the top ten of most painful stings/I’m gonna start stinging like there’s no tomorrow only AFTER making my way the inside of your pants” wasp attack. And let’s face it, my time could be better spent doing other things like staring blankly at my computer screen rather than waiting in her office for at LEAST an hour and a half every single time for her perpetually behind ass to work it’s way up to my turn.

Plus the woman had absolutely no sense of humour whatsoever and believe me with the shit I go to her for there’s a whole wealth of things to snicker about. Like the time I finally caved and went on the antidepressants. Well excuse me for freaking out but no one thought to inform me of the possibility of a “certain” little side effect. And no, not so little….least in my opinion. I didn’t have much in my life at the time but at least I had that…HAD being the operative word here. Upon discovery I immediately raced over to her office demanding to be seen right away due to the horrific side effect the medication SHE put me on was causing. She came into the room with her usual look of “here we go again” on her face.

Me looking panicked: I can’t have an orgasm

Her with evil taunting gleam in her eye disguised as feigned interest if that makes sense: With a partner or by yourself?

(yeah thanks for that…just had to throw that in…LIKE IT MAKES A DIFFERENCE???)

Me screaming said above statement in my head: By myself

Her: Is it that you can’t or that it takes a really long time?

Me with quirked poignant brow: Well how long does it take? I only have two hands…

Nothing. I got nothing and I have to say that as those words left my mouth even I found it funny. But seriously wtf? Like depression isn’t bad enough the supposed “cure” takes away even that last bit of pleasure you get out of life? Someone somewhere has a really f*cked up sense of humour….

(btw, apologies to immediate family members for previous posting…TMI….I know I know….)

So anyways I have a new doctor and like all new doctor she’s got that keener thing going on like there’s no tomorrow. I was due for a complete physical and she sent me for the works and I do mean ‘the works”. One thing she was concerned about was the history of cancer in my family and so suggested that perhaps I might be a candidate for that genetic testing stuff. She did warn me however that I should get some life insurance in place first, because if I tested positive I would have a hard time getting it after that fact. Ignorant of purchasing any kind of insurance I decided to consult my dad, former insurance guy extraordinaire.

Now I’ll just say here that mom and dad raised two very independent daughters, perhaps to a fault. Neither of us has ever married, but hey, we refused to ‘settle”, preferring to be single than put up with guy shit. Although we DO still yet hold out hope for that Mr. Right, that guy with whom we can put up with on a daily basis. I suppose as the years go by in only makes sense that the hope of others slowly dwindles away…..though it’s bad when even your own father no longer holds out much hope…

So I phone dad and explain the situation, asking his advice on buying life insurance. His response?

Dad, voice chalk full of sage advice: What do you need life insurance for? You don’t have kids and you’re not married…

Thanks for the vote of confidence dad!

I think he’s been reading my blog…..

Adventures in Dating Part five

For many years I worked in bars and pubs. I actually miss the job, the hours were awesome, it was usually a fun atmosphere and the money….oh I miss the money! Anyways there was never a lack of guys asking me out. I’d like to say it was the awesomeness that is me but a lot of times it’s cuz you’re the only chick in the bar talking to them. Despite the fact that the only thing you’re saying to them is “do you wannanother?” men being men will still consider this communication from the female species and take it as meaning “she must want me”. I never dated anyone from the pub except for two exceptions. My ex whom I was with for about ten years and “Mr. Completely lacking balls, integrity and caring for anyone’s feelings other than his own I work in the movie industry and so I am great”.

It was after I stopped waitressing that I caved in and accepted a date from a guy who’d been trying for years to get me to go out with him. What the heck I thought, what harm could it do?

I met him at the pub and we immediately left to catch a cab to the Thai restaurant to which he was taking me. As we approached the cab I thought I saw, out of the corner of my eye, him stagger slightly. I dismissed it as just seeing things and got in the cab. By the time we got to the restaurant it was apparent that he had started the party ahead of me…much like “Mr. Coke will make me sober” guy. Wtf? Again? Is the prospect of going on a date with me so daunting that men feel they need to overly fortify themselves with liquor? I’d say maybe it was so terrible that they needed to numb themselves but hey they asked ME out!

I should have left right then and there but it wasn't unitl we were sat at our table and he had ordered a bottle of wine, that it became clear just how drunk he was. Thinking someone needed to take one for the team, the team being me and me being the only player on it, I took it upon myself to drink as much as the wine as possible because there was NO WAY IN HELL he should have been drinking anymore. The F word left his lips at the rapid pace of one per 7.67 seconds and not subtly either. (okay yeah yeah I’m no angel when it comes to the spoken language but come on, a least I don’t spout off in the middle of a nice place on a date) I was more than dreadfully aware of the people around us giving us those “looks”. I wanted to either have the ground swallow me up or leap across the table and ram my knife into his jugular... ANYTHING just to get this experience over with. At the time I guess I was just too…nice?...or too…something?…..to just get up and leave which is what I should have done….with said knife stuck in said jugular. But hey, hindsight is 20/20 right?

As we “enjoyed” our meal, with me doing my best at keeping the wine away from him by chugging it like a pirate on shore leave, it was clear that he was raised in some sort of sect where the use of utensils is frowned upon. He was obviously not very experienced in the handling of any of them. Soon the table around his plate was littered with more food that I would bet he managed to get into his foul mouth. Probably the longest meal I ever endured, but blessed be it was eventually over. He set his plate aside with a satisfying sigh, then proceeded to brush the table scraps into a small pile in front of him. He then placed one hand just underneath the table as the other brushed this pile onto it. I then expected him to put said pile on his plate but nooooooooooo. He brought said pile to his lips, tilted his head back and knocked ‘er all back into his open gaping mouth. I could only sit there and stare in disbelief, wondering how the hell I was going to describe this to anyone because there was just no way anyone outside of his sect was going to believe this!

It ended, thank god, it ended, leaving this yet one more reason for me to fold and walk away from the table in this, the dating game.

Adventures in Dating Part Four

I realize it’s been a long time since I've written something and I have been totally bugged about leaving yet another 'cliff hanger" but geez come on guys, like my life is really something that leaves you hanging in suspence? Anyways, I can’t say exactly why, but I think I may have hit on the possibility yesterday. One thing that’s been glaringly apparent is I haven’t been feeling all that “blogger witty” lately and me being the perfectionist I am…well it just wasn’t happening for me. But another thing that hit me yesterday as I was thinking about my particular subject for this particular post was this-----he was genuinely a really nice guy and deep down I believe he had a good heart. And to be witty would have had me poking fun at him at his expense and I honestly can’t do that. If a guy’s a total shithead then fine, it’s no holds barred. But someone who’s nice, yet had fate shit on him a little makes me not so able to rip him to shreds like so many of the others deserve. So here it is…

He hit me up on the dating site and truth to tell something just wasn’t screaming “giddy-up!” for me with this guy. What it was I couldn’t really say…just one of those ‘gut feelings”. But he persisted and continued to remind me that he was “financially secure for life” and just “wanted to find a partner to have fun in life with”. Well all gut feelings aside, I suppose if a guy’s “financially secure” for life he’s gotta be worth at least a look-see right? I mean it would be stupid to say no to a guy who’s rich and just wants someone to go sail around the world with him right?

Well not so fast. We met up at one of my fav restaurants and he was already there when I showed up. He was dark and good looking but there was just something “off” about his face…something I couldn’t quite pin point. We ordered drinks and our dinners as we talked and began to get to know one another and the whole revelation all came crashing down on me rather quickly. Somewhere amidst having the exact same conversation every 10-15 minutes, it was revealed that the reason he was “financially set for life” was that he was in a motorcycle accident and the city was at fault and so subsequently received a rather healthy settlement……………………because the accident left him slightly brain damaged. And yeah he did drool slightly out of the corner of his mouth. I felt bad for him, sad, sympathetic….he was a great looking guy and before the accident was probably drop dead gorgeous. He was sweet and nice and I gladly spent the dinner with him, despite having the same conversation over and over and over again.

When we parted I could tell he wanted to see me again, but in all honesty it just wasn’t something I could do and yeah I felt like a total shitbag for it too. But unbeknownst to me was that I was a couple months away from being diagnose with severe depression and though I didn’t realize this at the time, I WAS very well aware of the shit I was dealing with in my own life and just didn’t have much left for someone else. It would be a big factor in realizing that I just wasn’t in the right place in my life to start up a relationship, But apparently I still had a few more “dates” left in this adventure before it all these revelations came to the fore.

I suppose now he's found some woman who is totally lacking in morals and integrity who's taken him for all he's worth. "no hunny you only had $75 000, not $750 000!". I truly hope this hasn't happened but knowing women as I do....yeeeeeeeeeeah....

So sorry for the total lack of wittiness in this dating adventure, Yeah he drooled and I could have made all sorts of witty remarks about how I shoulda went with the ”haz mat” suit instead of the halter dress, but I just couldn’t evoke my inner bitch enough to do it.


Dear God! Am I now finally losing my post depression cynicism? Lord help us all…..this blog is doomed.....

Adventures in dating Part Three

So blogger's been a bitch and after beating into submission today I am finally able to get my backlog of posts up. Plus I am off ot Vegas for the week so you get two...two in one day!

So what is it with women? The very thought of a date and we turn into obsessive, hysterical freaks where things like waxing and plucking become matters of life and death. Men don’t go through this why should we? We spend the week before a date agonizing over what to where, (should I show off my legs or my cleavage or both?) making waxing appointments even though we KNOW he isn’t gonna get THAT far. Then there’s the buffing, moisturizing, polishing, plucking, hair appointments, manicures, facials, the abject terror over possibly getting a huge zit right on the tip of your nose…omg who has the time for dating?!

Now the guy….bet he doesn’t put much thought into it all week. Some are probably even likely to forget they have a date in the first place. He probably doesn’t even think about getting ready until about 10 minutes before he’s gotta leave. He showers, runs fingers through his hair and grabs whatever clothes happen to be clean out of his laundry basket cuz he hasn’t bothered to put them away yet. How handy is that, he thinks….

And it doesn’t even stop there. So now you’ve made it through the first date, and then the next several and all of a sudden you are heading towards that thing called ‘exclusiveness”. Obsessing then turns to the old, omg I need to go on the 'new man’s going to see me naked soon' diet. Your workouts become more like boot camps run by sadistic Nurse Ratched types, you starve yourself and deny yourself even such basics such as chocolate and potato chips. You frantically go out and begin buying up all kinds of lingerie even though you have drawers full already.

And him? Well, judging by the number of men who go about shirtless in the summertime, showing off their beer bellies and man boobs, they just might not be as obsessive as we are about their appearance. Call me crazy….but I really don’t think guys obsess over what we’re gonna think when WE see THEM naked.

Is that fair? I think not. Men have it pretty good. They show up and get this perfectly groomed woman who’s been through the bowels of hell to look as good as she does and what do we get? Yeah…it’s all a crap shoot…

Adventures in Dating Part Two

He hit me up on the dating site and we exchanged messages back and forth. He was pretty good looking, in GREAT shape (oh those arms!) and was employed, a few things that are usually near the top of every girl’s wish list. We decided to meet for drinks and I took the time to put extra effort in my appearance, looking forward to this first date and the fun I would surely have just like my friend was having. Now, albeit I WAS late, but he hadn’t explained the location of the place all that well and it took me a long time of wandering about in torturous high heeled strappy shoes before I found the damned place. But that’s okay because he apparently found a way to occupy himself…

with alcoholic beverages.

Trying not to be a total snob (and I WAS new to this thing) I decided to give him a chance. However he continued to drink steadily getting more and more drunk as the evening wore on. But in the end that was okay because he did sober up at the end of the evening…

by doing lines of coke in the bathroom.

Well I can admit defeat as much as the next guy and so made my way home. I don’t recall much else but I do recall him phoning me a day or so later. He just might have been waiting for another date to show up because once again he had obviously been imbibing in more of those time fillers. By far it was one of the most painful conversations I have ever had and having worked in bars for 17 years that’s saying a lot. Of course the topper of this particular conversation was me having to listen to him proceed to puke his brains out without the courtesy of either hanging up on me or at least covering the mouth piece on his phone. But I suppose when your body starts rejecting the contents of your stomach, who thinks of silly little etiquette details? But that’s okay because I took the initiative and hung up on him.

Not a good start to the online dating scene, but undeterred, I was ready to move on and try again. Stay tuned for the drooler.

Adventures in Dating Part One

“People go to casinos for the same reason they go on blind dates - hoping to hit the jackpot. But mostly, you just wind up broke or alone in a bar.” Carrie, Sex in the City

So it’s been a while…actually a very long time…okay FINE it’s been a very VERY long time since I went on a date or even considered going on one. Sure it was a rough road for me a few years back with life continuing to bitch slap me around for a good year or so. Then, what with all that reinventing of myself, who had the time to even consider starting something up? And then when life got good again and I was back on my two feet better than ever, I found I was quite happy to be on my own. As they say, “if you can’t make yourself happy then you can’t expect anyone else to make you happy”, right? I am not one to “pine” for a boyfriend, or actively search in rapid desperation, feeling like I will surely shrivel up and die if I go more than one month of singleness. Sure there’s that fear of dying, alone in my apartment with no one knowing about it until the smell of my decomposing corpse permeates the hallways and the neighbours realize that this time it’s NOT the smell of the Thai people’s cooking downstairs. Sure it sucks when your ceiling fan goes tits up, you have blinds to hang, or a wall in your apartment you want taken out but, for as independent as I am, there are things that are too far into the realm of manliness for me to want to tackle. Or maybe I’m just lazy that way…

Of course then there was the overriding thought of, “I can’t imagine there is a guy out there with whom I want to deal with on a daily basis.”

Seriously….but lets not rush things and get into cohabitating yet…I haven’t even been on a date in years.

My last forays into the dating world were less then fulfilling, but I live the type of life where if something weird, bizarre or even hilarious is gonna happen it’ll happen to me. (ie: almost getting eaten by a 120 pound wolf, almost blinding myself with a pilates band, the uncanny ability to end up with stinging insects inside my clothing, causing me to rip said clothing off my body as I screech in a mixture of pain, panic and horror, much to the delight of the guys I was with at the time…you get the picture…) And I am okay with that, at least you wind up with a few funny stories to entertain people with.

I guess it was about 4 and a half years back I decided to join a dating site. A friend belonged to one and she happily regaled me with what a great time she was having going on all these dates. You see all these other people doing it and having these great dates and some even end up blissfully happy. I figured if it worked for them why not me?

Well stay tuned for the drooler, the drunkard and the guy who apparently hasn't seen utensils before, plus many more tales of the bizarre and unexplainable!

Things I’ve learned in the last 2 months

I suck at Guitar Hero (and the song I sing best is the one I hate the most – Hotel California)

Things even out (money saved for Vegas trip=$400 – cost of most recent vet bill=$411)

Joining Facebook hoping to get in touch with old friends may not be such a good idea after all (cue high pitched screechy violin horror movie music)

I know the lyrics to an alarming number of 80’s hairband songs

Assignment due for school=a clean apartment (apparently the procrastination factor works in favour of cleanliness here…go figure I finally found my motivation)

Having a hot sex dream about Clive Owen makes the following day that much better

And last but not least…I still hate school…

Hero tested and approved!

So anyone that knows me knows of my “feelings” towards children. Not that I dislike children, I mean I do choose to volunteer my time at a children’s hospice. It’s just all those times like when you’ve been in a store or on the street and you encounter that mother and their child nearby and the child has that whiney drama queen moment or that extremely high pitched temper tantrum that threatens to crack your contact lenses? Yeah those moments…well I can’t BEGIN to tell you how many times over the years my tubes have tried to tie themselves ….

So the big irony of my workplace is this. I work on the 4th floor of a 5 story building. On the top floor is a daycare. Apparently, and I was told in no uncertain terms, that it’s my responsibility (as well as others on my floor) that when there’s a fire alarm I have to go against my natural instincts that tell me to flee the building screaming like a sissy girl and actually go UP the stairs and grab a kid and carry them to safety. Yeah me…the person who has chosen NOT to have children has to risk their life in order to save someone else’s spawn.

One day I was actually trying to rationalize this in my head when my supervisor asked me if I could really, in good conscious, just leave the building and thus the children behind. Moments ticked by in silence as I struggled with what to say and I soon realize that the people around me were staring at me horrified that I had not yet answered such a fundamental question. Okay so now this isn’t to say that I am THAT cold hearted. I was just pondering that fact that on a day to day basis I, who has NO children of her own, honestly do not think about other people’s children. I just don’t. And then I wondered that if a time like that should arrive, and amidst the panic and terror of imminent death, would I really instinctively think about these children of others?

So it would just happen that the other week after I had finally gotten my butt down to the gym (3dr floor) after procrastinating for most of the day, that the fire alarm went off. It was a Friday and almost 4:30 in the afternoon by then. I had just begun to work up a sweat when the fire alarm went off. Cursing I grabbed up my water bottle thinking how it figured that I finally get my ass to the gym and the fire alarm goes off. As I made my way to the door it clicked in my head. OMG the children! It’s 4:30 on a Friday and most people are gone by then! In a panic I race around the building but because of security I can’t get up to the 5th floor. I make my way outside and see one of the maintenance guys who’s got a key for everything. I explained to him the situation and we run up to the 5th floor and see the children all gathered around ready to be delivered to safety. Luckily there happened to be enough people left on my floor and who, in good conscience, came up to scoop all the kids up.

So in the end I wasn’t needed but I have to admit that I was pretty proud of myself for actually thinking about the kids when that ‘emergency’ actually became a reality.

By the way it turned out that the reason the fire alarm had gone off is cuz someone on a Bosa ball lost their balance and hit the fire alarm. Yeah......thanks for that, I really liked standing outside for an hour in wintertime in my t-shirt and shorts just after getting a good sweat on. –thumbs up-