One of the many, many joys of being a woman

Went 4 rounds with the endometriosis last night, as opposed to the usual 9 or 10, so all things considered I got off pretty light. I haven’t had a bout in a couple of months and so thought maybe it had passed --- after all there had been a good 10 years of dormancy until it reared its ugly head again last June. I had felt rather off all day and so engaged my usual preventative fasting tactic (my reasoning being that if there is nothing IN my system to begin with, then there is nothing to be forced OUT). It doesn’t really work, but it gives me some source of comfort.

In any event, on schedule at 11 pm (it only ever happens at night, usually after 11), the pain kicked in, the vomiting and other loveliness ensued and then I spent a good 40 minutes lying at the bottom of my shower with scorching hot water beating down on my lower abdomen. Pretty picture, non?? However, like I said it was only 4 rounds, so I did not feel like committing Hare Kari, which sometimes feels like the most logical option.

Having never had children I don’t know first hand what labour feels like, but I have a feeling that this is pretty similar ---- uterus contracting at pretty regular intervals, and all that, unbelievable pain and shaking and then that tricky calm with no pain, but YOU KNOW IT”S COMING!!!!!!! The self-styled hydrotherapy combined with some serious painkillers eventually kicked in, enabling me to drag my sorry soggy self, wrapped in my fluffy robe, to the couch to settle in for a few mind-numbing hours of CSI, ’cause although dopey from the drugs, sleep tends to elude me for many hours.

So yeah, I am whining and felling really, really tired. Not to mention highly irritable and apt to bite your head off if you so much as look at me sideways.


You have been warned and ..... Happy Monday.

YIKES!!!

Was just down in Starbucks, perusing their cd selection while waiting for my coffee. Sam Moore, of Sam & Dave fame, has released a "new" album of cover songs which looks to be quite excellent. However, on closer inspection it was revealed that he is doing a cover of "Blame It On The Rain" --- infamously "recorded" by that marvel of 80's marketing Milli Vanilli.

That is just so very wrong.

I only carry real money

DISCLAIMER: I AM NOT ANTI-AMERICAN. QUITE FOND OF OUR NEIGHBOURS TO THE SOUTH AS A MATTER OF FACT. HOWEVER, PEOPLE LIKE THE ONES DESCRIBED BELOW GIVE THE REST OF THEIR COUNTRY(WO)MEN A BAD NAME

I was getting coffee this morning on my way in to the office and there was a bit of a hold-up at the front of the line. What was the cause of this hold-up? 3 Americans paying for their morning cup-o-jo with American currency. In and of itself an annoyance ---- the assumption that anyone will simply take American currency in a country other than the United States and give them the current and correct exchange rate. Imagine trying that in their country? Yeah, that'll happen --- they treat Canadian currency like it's Monopoly money and won't even take a Canadian penny for chrissakes!!!!!! When I was in the service industry (waiting tables, tending bar and the like) I would happily take American cash AT PAR. Amazing how many people accepted that. Yet I digress.

What made it worse than the fact that they simply assumed that the foreign currency would be accepted without question was the following statement:

"I only carry real money."

Nice.

oh the drama

Care for an update on the drama in my personal life? No? Tough. Here it is …

I believe I mentioned a few entries back that news of a certain parting of the ways (okay so it was the news that my non-date-date of last year had broken up with the slutbitchwhore woman he had been dating since CRUSHING MY POOR FRAGILE HEART). This event of course prompted a phone call to me, which I waited a full day to return and which then resulted in our setting up a “date” for a hike with Princess Maggie. Oh, and of course I did not mention that I knew the information, nor did he offer it up. This is how we “communicate”.

To be honest I was more than half expecting him to bail on the whole thing at the last minute. But he did not. Instead, falling back into the pattern he developed when we were dating, he called in advance of his arrival telling me that he was on his way and that “he was really looking forward to seeing me”. Yup, my heart went flippity flop when I heard the message 'cause well that’s the kind of girl I am and that’s one of those things that he used to do that made me fall so hard for him in the first place.

Anyway, we hiked and we talked and we laughed and he hunted up and threw sticks for the furry princess and we were more relaxed and at ease with each other than we have been in months and months and months. We went for lunch, we bought Maggie treats and then he brought me home. I honestly expected him to simply drop me off, but he turned the car off and took everything out and came in with us.

This is where things got a little weird --- I knew he had stuff to do yet he was just kind of hanging around, playing with Maggie and her bear, like he was waiting for something --- that did not happen. I am not making this easy for him.

Verdict? A most pleasant day with a lovely man and I just have to be careful with my heart.

The next week we chatted a few times, emailed back and forth, the flirtation of yesteryear definitely back BIG TIME and made plans for Thursday. That got scratched due to kid stuff, which I am totally fine with, so we planned for Friday. He came all the way downtown to get me from the office as I got to leave early (YIPPEE!!), drove back across the bloody bridge and then suggested several lovely options for lunch. I opted for grabbing a sandwich and hitting the beach (my own suggestions and what I wanted to do). Again, a lovely relaxed excursion. He brought me home, kissed my goodbye and said we’d chat when he gets back from France mid-month.

Enter the drama

I believe I have mentioned Chris, owner of Jake the lovely choclate lab, who I dated a few times, he got back with his ex, and that didn’t work and we have dated a few more time? The architect with the lovely house? The logical one for me to be with? Well, we went out for drinks Friday night and as we settled into our respective cocktails he asks: “are you seeing someone?”

WTF?????

Seems his friend Joel saw Peter and me having lunch last week and then saw us again on Friday and assumed …. who knows what but of course he felt the need to tell Chris. Who says men don’t gossip??

Now Chris is not aware of Peter’s existence in any way, shape or form, but we really haven’t got to that point yet. It’s not like we’ve pledged our troth or anything.

My answer? I was with Peter, a friend and former colleague (all true) and the next time Joel “sees me”, he might consider coming over and saying hello.

What a way to put a damper on an evening.

Puggle is "IT"!!

For those of you new to this space (or those of you who don't remember each and every entry I have posted, for shame!!), Decker is one of the dogs who stays with Miss Maggie and me when his dads go out of town. Decker is a puggle and really quite unique and adorable. After his first stay with us I posted some of his puppy pictures. This post was then linked here and touted as a "cure for depression". The photo was subsequently picked up by puggle.org and made "pic of the week".

And now, this:

Decker's dads were in NYC a few weeks ago and one of their friends showed them this article. Our little Decker has certainly made the big time!

Now, how to parlay this into hooking up with Jake Gyllenhaal ........

am I insane????

Some women get a stirring in the uterus when they see babies. Me? I get that way about puppies. Maggie is fabulous, of course, but she’s 71/2 now and I think that it might be time to introduce a puppy to the mix. I have canvassed the people at the office and everyone seems to be in agreement that I could bring said puppy to the office for the first little while, until it would be fine left at home with Maggie as “keeper” and going out on walks with the group.

This is where I want to get a puppy from. A chocolate coloured Maggie --- does it get any better than that??

Plus-Sized Cars

That’s right --- Ford’s 2007 line will feature cars designed for the “plus sized” consumer. I mean COME ON ---- if you find yourself too fat to fit behind the wheel of your car, maybe you shouldn’t be behind the wheel of your car? Maybe you should be walking? Or riding a bike? Or? Oh I don’t know, something. I’m not trying to be mean or make fun of people you are larger than average, but seriously, is this not a bit extreme and ridiculous?? Now I have had weight issues all my life and am certainly not one to preach about how being fat is bad and everyone should be a skinny size 0 or anything, but how large does one have to be to actually NOT FIT in a car? And why, instead of doing something about maybe getting healthier and slimmer, increase the size of the cars to accommodate America’s growing waistline (and when I say America, I mean North America as Canadians are getting up there in the obesity area right along with our neighbours to the south).

And then there’s the obvious: how embarrassing is it to have to shop in the “husky” section of the automall??

Friday randomness

Maggie and I woke up a bear that was sleeping in a tree the other morning (another reason that I am totally re-thinking those 5 a.m. runs ...) --- one of the perks of living where we do. You don't get that living in the BIG city .....

A random girl in the ladies room at the office told me that I smelled "delicious" and asked what perfume I was wearing. I don't wear perfume, so it must have been the absolutely FABULOUS hair straightening tonic I bought a few weeks ago at London Drugs for all of $1.99. (or maybe just my sweetness shining through)

I am going out with Exhibit 2 tomorrow. I am a weak, weak woman.

dancing her way to Texas

My friend Katie (with me in the photo below at the office Christmas party last year) is joining the Texas Ballet Theatre. She leaves Sunday to start what is bound to be a very successful career as a Prima Ballerina. I am so very excited for her!!!!

Game on?

If you impart rather juicy personal news to someone, knowing that you have friends in common, particularly friends in common that would be interested in said juicy information, you are safe to assume that the friend to whom you have imparted said juicy information is going to relay said information to the potentially interested party thereby relieving you of the responsibility of actually having to impart said information to the potentially interested party yourself, yet leaving you pretty much certain that the information will be so imparted, right??

And so the game continues …..

Why?

Exhibit 1

Attractive
Never married
No kids
Great dog
Owns a lovely house in a lovely neighbourhood
Employed – architect
Ex no longer a factor
Available


Exhibit 2

Attractive
Not quite divorced, hell the ex won’t even sign the separation agreement
2 teenagers
No dog
Rents a choc-a-bloc apartment, has never owned a house*
Not-employed lawyer
Has broken my heart AT LEAST once
Not available to me


Who do you think makes me quiver when he calls??



*Exhibit 1’s lovely house’s deck actually overlooks said apartment, with binochs I could probably see in

Making Friends

Maggie made a new friend this morning. Bears a striking resemblance to this little fellow:





We are currently taking any and all sugegstions as to how to deal with this ......

of cupcakes and men

I must be fighting something --- every day this week I have felt as through I spent the night before pounding back multiple bottles of tequila (which I have not) and barely make it through the say without nodding off and once actually dozing while talking to someone!! Also, all I feel like eating are these beautifully decorated cupcakes (which I have not as yet indulged in) and Krinkle Kut Kettle Chips, sea salt and black pepper flavour.

And before you even go there, No I am NOT pregnant.

I am also at risk of getting sucked back in by the currently underemployed and emotionally (and perhaps otherwise, though that is debatable) unavailable lawyer with whom I was involved last year at around this time. Message to the elusive dad of Biscuit: rescue me from this potentially disastrous fate!!

Those beautifully decorated cupcakes are sounding like a really good idea right now …… chased by multiple bottles of tequila, of course!!

Scruffy, but in a clean, sexy way

At George in Yaletown Friday night having cocktails with a friend. We both noted an extremely attractive, if slightly scruffy but in a good, clean way, man on the patio at a table with several other people who all seemed rather plastic and pretentious.

"He reads books and builds things and has excellent manners" was my friend's comment

"He has that dead sexy Billy Campbell thing going on" I noted

hey, wait a minute, it is Billy Campbell

I tried rather unsuccessfully not to stare, but really, can you blame a girl??

(and he has quite possibly the NICEST hands I have ever seen)

Biscuit's Dad Part Deux

At the urging of my friend Sarah, I placed the following ad in last week's Georgia Straight "I Saw You" section:

A dog named Biscuit

ok, so this may sound weird, but whatever

yesterday (Sunday) I met a lovely golden retriever named "Biscuit" on Yew Street in Kitsilano. Lovely dog with an even lovelier owner. Stupid me decided to actually continue in my own direction when our paths parted so as to accomplish my errands as opposed to doing the smart thing and turning in the SAME direction as Biscuit and her owner for continued conversation adn potentially ....

DAMMIT!!!!!

So, anyone here in Vancouver know of a golden retriever named Biscuiit who lives in Kits??

Let's just think of this as a great scavenger hunt of sorts :)

it ain't what it's cracked up to be, apparently

overheard at a local Kitsilano watering hole:

"my apartment's immaculate, I have a cute dog, I'm on a television soap opera and I STILL CAN"T GET LAID!!!!!!!!"

you just have to laugh, non?

so I'm donning a wimple

So yeah, I KNEW it was too good to be true ---- he has a girlfriend. Or, rather, an ex-girlfriend that he has decided to try and work things out with. I KNEW IT!!!! It was going too well. You see that’s how my life generally works, and people wonder why I am so wary and guarded and all that. And it all started out to well ….

We met walking our dogs, he took Maggie and me for dinner. We had fun. Then he took us on a picnic --- Lighthouse Park, there was wine, yummy food, we looked at the stars. Again, a lovely evening --- tall, handsome, “single” , never married, no kids, viably employed (architect), dog, house, well dressed with a good sense of style, ALL GOOD (and the polar opposite (but for the handsome part) of Peter, the ex-non-date). We went for a dinner sans dogs on the weekend, the Grouse Nest, and had another wonderful time. “Maybe this will work” I thought to myself. “Maybe I am now ready to move on from that other jerk” maybe, maybe, maybe.

Well, apparently not. Seems his ex-girlfriend, with whom he was involved for 3 years and broke up with 6 months ago, is back and they he says he owes it to her, him, them to try and work it out.

WHAT ABOUT ME???????

That’s it. I’m DONE. Calling Sister Mary Catherine and joining the bloody convent.

weekend adventures

I spent Saturday at Lynn Canyon with my 3 nieces, 1 nephew, 2 cousins and my aunt (grandmother to the aforementioned children) I refer to the kids as my nieces and nephews because, while technically not accurate, I consider their parents my siblings hence their offspring nieces and nephews. Also, it's lots easier to say than "the children of my cousins".

I LOVE these photos even though I have obviously sacrificed any attempt at flattering angles and personal photo op vanity for the sake of keeping the 4 year old safe (read dry and not swept off by the rather swift (and bloody freezing) current).

Awkwardness

Situation 1 - good friend has recently gotten back together with a PSYCHO ex-girlfriend and they appear to be deliriously happy. Problem is, she is SERIOUSLY PSYCHOTIC and this is not just from how she acted during their relationship the first time 'round --- this comes from independent 3rd parties who know her in a professional sense. Trying to be happy for him, but he just sent me photos from their recent bike trip down the coast and the mere sight of her makes me cringe.

Situation 2 - there is a woman I work with who is most probably in her early to mid 50's. Not to put too fine a point on it, she has a tendency to err on the mutton as lamb side of fashion choices. This does not make her a bad person. In fact, she is lovely and I enjoy working with her. Yesterday she left early for a doctor's appointment which I later found out (quite by accident) was for botox injections. She looks decidedly odd today and I am doing my best not to stare.

I really, really, really hope that I am able to keep that pesky inside voice inside (as it does have a tendency to slip out at THE MOST inopportune moments .....)

kids and nudity

*Editor's Note: The anecdotes below ARE NOT mine -- they are taken from two separate emails I received today from two separate friends. I DID NOT magically acquire a husband and/or children over the Canada Day long weekend (much to my mother's dismay, I am sure) --- Management apologizes for any confusion this may otherwise have caused ...

2 posts in a day is un peut trop I realize, but this kind of goes with the earlier one (in that it involves kids)

Example 1:

Wreck Beach - total mistake. The 1000 stairs and complete absence of children should of been our first clue. We get to the bottom and then the gravity of nakedness hits. My husband, being the white bread boy that he is, was disgusted and wanted to leave ASAP. Apparently, in his opinion, nudity should be saved for airbrushed porn. The girls, who hadn't noticed the bareness at this point, started to cry since they were a stones throw away from the water and were hot are ready to collect shells etc. So I suggested we stay (the nudity didn't bother me at all) until they start to notice. Well, within a minute and half daughter 1 (age 8) starts to giggle etc. I told her to keep her head down and mind her own business. Daughter 3 (age 4) was completely clueless (and still is). Husband could only handle it for about 15 minutes then demanded that we leave. It wasn't until our departure that Daughter 2 (age 6) noticed all the tanning schlongs and was quite offended by the whole scene. Another BC tale to tell!

Example 2:

I was suntanning naked on Sunday with my son (at a friend's private pool). No one else was there. Son said: "oh mom do you have to keep taking your dress off everytime you get a chance".

My answer: "of course".

The most effective form of birth control

I just spent the past 4 days with my best friend, Andy, and her 3 kids --- Keighley age 6, Brenna age 4 and Fraser age 18 mos.

I got home last night and hugged Maggie for a VERY long time.

photos to follow ......

Monday

7:42 a.m., bag on shoulder, keys in hand, went to grab the mug of milk from the microwave to add to the waiting travel mug of coffee when

SMASH

the mug falls from my hands and lands on the ceramic tile floor, hot milk and shattered favourite coffee mug everywhere --- including all over my clothes, shoes, cupboards, etc.

Had to stop, strip and scrub the kitchen, pick up all the shards (can't risk the princess splicing a paw pad), called in to work to let them know I would now be running a tad behind, rethink the wardrobe for the day (not a happy process) and then start all over again.

Thank Christ it's a sunny gorgeous day this fabulous Monday or I might just have been tempted to throw in the towel before 8 a.m. and start the week over tomorrow.

the bloody injustice of it all

Hi, my name is Kathryn and I am addicted to shoes.

There, got that off my chest and so now can continue with this tale in clear conscience.

There is currently a fantabulous pair of red patent leather stacked peek-a-boo pumps for sale at Aldo and I want them something fierce! I mean they are drop. dead. sexy. I tried them on last week and while they fit my ridiculously large (12) foot, sadly they were cut too low for my additionally ridiculously high arch. I almost cried ---- I had already envisioned them paired with my super-dark denim jeans worn fashionably under my crisp black linen shift while sipping a sassy cocktail on a sunny patio. Alas, this was not to be ......

To add insult to injury, my young assistant just this instant went to buy them for herself (as further proof that height is in no way related to foot size, she is 5'11 and has a size 8. I am 5'9 with a 12 and my sister 5' 4 3/4 with a 91/2, so there!!). I tried to play the boss card and forbid her from taking lunch and threatening her with all sorts of nasty tasks that would come her way if she did indeed buy MY shoes, but to no avail. She bought them and they are indeed fabulous.

Contemplating

Just for fun (and to shut the annoying people in my life who think they know what's best for me and I am DYING to prove them wrong up) I am contemplating the thought of maybe, just maybe, trying out one of those matchmaking services that everyone is on about. NOT the internet variety but an old fashioned, screening process in place, criminal background check, etc. corporate matchmaking service.

This will open myself up for a whole whack of ridicule and rejection, I know.

Thoughts? Comments?? Suggestions???

You see, I kind of want to do it so that I can say "yeah, did it, hated it, didn't work, it sucks and is humiliating and you were all WRONG"

('cause I really am that petty)

one big happy .....

LIGHTHOUSE PARK JUNE 18, 2006

the parents are coming! the parents are coming!

My parents arrive tonight for a brief (4 sleep) visit to see their lovely daughters and grandchildrendogs. Our itinerary thus far is as follows:

Tonight 9:00 p.m. meet them at their hotel and have a late dinner

Friday Paula (my sister) and mum will “play” while my dad does important lawyer-type stuff (“ILS”) and I am at work then at 5:15 meet Paula and mum at family friends for drinks, dinner etc., dad still doing “ILS"

Saturday - Meet parents at hotel for coffee and then go to Horseshoe Bay where more family friends will pick us up in their boat (grandchildrendogs included) to go over to Bowen Island for lunch. Then it’s up to Squamish to look at houses and have a BBQ

Sunday - meet cousins and their children for a hike and lunch in Deep Cove, dinner at yet another friend of the family for Fathers’ Day, then it’s back to the airport for the senior Caseys for the night (I offered accoms in my 700 sq. feet, but the Fairmont appealed more, go figure!!)

I am really looking forward to their visit and I am sure that it will be much better than the Christmas visit (not that that visit was so terrible, but I was a huge basket of stress, thanks to the recent breakup and the fact that I was totally HATING my job and everyone at it and so was not really able to keep any food down and was drinking far too much (not that anyone noticed, we are WASPs after all)). However, dollars to doughnuts one of the first things out of my mother’s mouth will be some sort of comment regarding my weight/appearance (I have mentioned that one of the results of the whole breakup/job hating thing was a loss of 40 lbs or so and about 4 dress sizes, right?) and the second thing (though she may wait until Saturday for this one) will be about my lack of steady man and/or children in my life.

The fact that I now have a great new job, make that career (and there IS a difference) and am significantly less stressed and happier won’t matter.

The fact that I am single and childless will.

Maybe it's true what they say about dogs and boys

So I was out walking with Miss Maggie the other night and we ran into Jake the chocolate lab and his rather cute owner, Chris. We have run into each other a few times over the last couple of months and exchanged the usual dog walking pleasantries: cute dog, what's her/his name, how old is he/she --- you know, the kind of thing all parents chat about when crossing paths. The difference this time was that instead of just exchanging the pleasantries in passing we actually walked together and then Chris invited Miss Maggie and me out for a beer and dinner at the Red Lion in West Van.

Of course we went. And had fun (though this is the same venue as my first meeting with the ex-non-non-date's children and where I almost died from injesting an errant shrimp in my salad). No such drama this evening, though!! Just a pleasant, straightforward evening with nice conversation and two really adorable canine chaperones.

ex-non-non-date strikes again

If you hop into the wayback machine you will recall the drama that was the non-date, then non-non-date, then ex-non-non-date and then, finally, friend. After the "getting knocked off his pedestal in one fell swoop" incident we managed to somehow salvage a friendship. And for that I feel quite fortunate. Kind of. You see …

He has been calling, email, texting, a lot of late and quite frankly if I were his current girlfriend, and I’m not sure that he has one right now but I know for certain that he did, the discovery of which resulted in the knocking off the pedestal incident, I would probably not be all that happy about it, given our “history”. I mean we were talking with some frequency over the past few months, like maybe every other week or so but in a very Monday to Friday 9 to 5 kind of way, we worked in the same office so that was quite unavoidable, and he was super supportive of me during my whole career change and the fallout from that. But this is different. What’s happening now is bearing a striking resemblance to what was happening during his changing of our relationship way back last summer.

His calls etc. are far more frequent. He is feeling the need to keep me apprised of his whereabouts, like so I don’t think he is “ignoring me” or anything. For instance, I texted him last week on the morning of a really important job interview meeting that he had scheduled for late that day. A very innocuous message along the lines of good luck, I’m sure you’ll be brilliant. He emailed me back that night and left me a voice message saying that it went really well, he was really excited about it and would fill me in on all the details in about a week and a half as he was off to X for the weekend and then Y on Monday p.m.

Well, he called Tuesday afternoon to say that his plans had changed and that he was actually leaving Tuesday night, filled me in on how the interview went, what’s going on with his kids, troubles with his ex-wife, what he’s been up to, etc., etc., etc., and then said that he would be back Sunday night and could we get together for dinner one night next week to catch up and chat.

Well, logically I should just tell him to get F**ked. However, that would kind of be like cutting off my nose to spite my face. Technically I’m doing nothing wrong. However, there is that niggling doubt in my mind: what’s he up to? What’s his motivation? It would be great if I could trust that we really can be “just friends”, but, like most women do, I have this innate sense about certain things and his behaviour is eerily similar to when he was wooing me last year and I have to admit (as much as I am ashamed to) that I would not exactly be adverse to the possibility.

I know, I know, I am potentially setting myself up to be hurt in a HUGE way again. I know this, yet ….

Or maybe there is nothing to this whatsoever, he just wants to have dinner and go over what’s been going on and maybe even bring his current girlfriend (if he has one) along, too. HA!

I do believe the quote at the top of this page says it best.

In any event, I’ll keep you posted …

I mean why would a man want to date a woman in her 30's anyway?

I was at Nu for brunch on Sunday (which I highly recommend, by the way ----- yummy and complimentary fresh baked mini croissants and demi tassess of French drinking chocolate as an “amuse bouche”, and truly delicious (and non-expensive) brunch offerings, I had brioche toast, home-fries and bacon (need the carbs and grease to soak up the remnants of the JD that someone obviously poured down my unwilling throat Saturday night (that’s a whole other story)), fabulous service and a breathtaking view). I was not all that enthusiastic about going to be honest, skeptical of an “up scale” locale for brunch, wickedly hungover and not really looking forward to one of the expected attendees(who as luck would have it did not end up attending after all), so I was very pleasantly surprised by how yummy and delicious it was. Funny thing happened in the ladies room, however: 2 girls obviously in their mid-twenties were discussing events of the evening before and I gathered from their conversation that the one (pink t-shirt, cargo capris and army hat) was dating a man considerably older and was describing to her friend (very funky orange and red streaked hair) how someone was commenting that it seemed to be a trend to have men in their late 30’s dating younger women. Nothing groundbreaking or earth-shattering there.

However, her next comment was: “I mean why would a man want to date a woman in her 30’s anyway? They are so desperate and all they want to do is get married and settle down”.

!@#$%&^%$#@!!!!!!!

I was sitting in the next stall and honestly did not have the wherewithal to do anything about it (I have mentioned that I was feeling a little less than perfect, right?), but honestly ------ what a truly terrible thing to say, not to mention what a huge (false) generalization.

So I’m asking ---- anyone have an opinion, one way or the other, on this?

If a bear shits in the woods, should I have a cocktail??

Seems like a rather redundant question, no?

This was actually on the inside of a birthday card I got from a very good friend and it made me laugh and laugh and laugh ...... you know how when people who know you REALLY well can just look at you or say one word or whatever and you collapse like a boneless git in a heap on the floor laughing all the while? And then your abs hurt more than the morning after you have done 500 crunches in various positions in an effort to magically transform your 38 year old mid-section into something other than what it is? Yeah, like that and that my friends is worth more than all the therapy money (or extended health benefits) can buy.

Happy Birthday to me

My dad tells me the same story pretty much every year on my birthday: he arrived at MGH (Montreal General Hospital) to find my mother being wheeled down the hall on a gurney en route to the delivery room -- doctor's hand in one hand, smoke hanging out of the other. This was Quebec 1968 after all (my mother maintained for YEARS that she quit smoking while pregnant with each of us. She was busted on that little version of the truth a few years ago).

Don't know why, but I really like that story.

So yeah, I turned 38 today. Big whoop. Funny how that just doesn't seem so old to me anymore. Maybe 'cause I don't feel 38, whatever 38 is supposed to feel like. Looking back at where my mum was when she was 38, I was 13 and in grade 8. I simply cannot fathom having a 13 year old child. Or a child of any age for that matter.

I have to say that this year is starting out better than last. I am in a great new job and am generally feeling pretty good about things. Last year, at least the the last half of last year, was pretty bloody miserable and not one I care to repeat. There are neither dates nor non-dates in my life at present, but that's just fine. Last year's non-date and I are finally back to a place where we can be friends and it seems to be working for us --- though his calls, emails, texts, etc are becoming quite frequent and I'm not sure as to why. However, one of my resolutions at the termination of the romantic side of that particular relationship was to tryto not analyze it all and just let whatever come, come (once I am more secure with it I will share what was quite possibly the most shocking moment of 2006 thus far for me and what also knocked non-date way, way, way off the pedestal that I had put him on and let me begin the healing that I so desperately needed, but that's not now).

As for how I'm celebrating, well I don't really know. My sister seemed very concerned that I had no plans (in fact actually forgot about it until she reminded me) so I think that we are going out somewhere to do something. If we get up to anything exciting, I'll be sure to write about it (or maybe not, depending on just HOW exciting ...).

Maggie & Decker go to Abbotsford

Spent the long weekend in Abbotsford at the request of my three nieces. Well, the request was actually for Maggie and Decker, but I came along as part of the package. (Maggie was visibly relieved that they didn't try to dress her up, too. )

Rule 72(a)

72(a):

When you meet an ex for lunch after not having seen said ex for like a month and when said ex has been looking pretty much like shit and really, really old and stressed for the couple of months leading up to the not seeing him for a month, said ex shall not look REALLY REALLY good. I mean REALLY good.

(So yeah, the hug at the end of lunch may have lasted a bit longer than necessary, but can you blame a girl??)

My newest guilty pleasure

I can't believe I am admitting this (ok, so maybe I can) but I am totally addicted to Laguna Beach. In case you're not familiar with it, this is a "reality series" on MTV kind of like the real OC. I wasn't even aware that I got MTV, but flipping around on the rainy holiday Monday I stumbled across it and like a train wreck I could not look away --- and it was an ALL DAY MARATHON!!! I tell you I am hooked. This is some truly good stuff.

Now I wasn't going to actually admit this new found obsession to anyone, but when I arrived at a girlfriend's place Monday afternoon for lunch, she and another friend were watching tv and the first thing she asked me was "have you seen Laguna Beach??". Well kids, that was the end of life as we knew it. We plunked ourselves down in front of the idiot box and lost ourselves in the world of Taylor and Talon, Jason and Jessica, and then Jason and Alex, and Stephen and LC and the Stephen and Kristin and Casey "the new girl" and all that is fun and fabulous in Laguna Beach, CA.

Apparently we are watching season 2 --- I must, must, must get my hands on the dvd's for season 1.

definitely one of my top ten recent favourite quotes

From Ian McKellen (in part of an interview re his role in the DaVinci Code (though I am CERTAINLY NOT advocating either the book or the movie and not because of any stupid religious controversy, I just didn't like the book and will not be seeing the movie))

"I'm very happy to believe that Jesus was married," said McKellen, an outspoken defender of gay rights since disclosing his homosexuality in the late 1980s. "And I know the Catholic church has problems with gay people, and I thought this would be absolute proof that Jesus was not gay."

some stuff I know

1. one must be very careful about donning the currently-in-fashion-but-that-doesn't-mean-everyone-should-wear-them WHITE PANTS (if you must partake of this trend, please, please, please think very carefully when choosing your undergarments)
2. people lie to get what, where, who they want
3. heartbreak is a very physical ailment
4. addiction affects everyone
5. The West Wing, now dearly departed, was quite possibly the best television show EVER (at least when Aaron Sorkin was involved (not to mention Rob Lowe)) ---- I so wanted to work in that version of the White House glibly spouting witty repartee and boasting a fabulous Max Mara wardrobe a la C.J. Craig
6. the phrase "change is often as good as a rest" is so very true ---- I am LOVING my new job and was not aware until after I had left just how toxic an environment I was working in at the big national law firm (go figure --- working for lawyers SUCKS!!!!!!!)
7. to quote my father (though I am almost certain that the phrase did not originate with him, the context that I am taking it from does) "people never cease to disappoint" (see 6, above for context)
8. I am tired of the cutesy Australian wine marketing, though huge Kudos to whoever came up with the Yellow Tail/Little Penguin, etc ---- BRILLIANT way to market/package what is really over-sugared not so great wine and sell like a gazillion cases to people who don't know any better
9. leggings = bad, wedges = good
10. I am SO worth it

Last Day

This is it, my last day as a paralegal/administrative assistant in the wonderful and exciting world of private practice, huge national firm, commercial litigation!!!!! Monday marks the start of a new career and I am both terribly excited and ABSOLUTELY TERRIFIED!!!!!!!!!!!

I am entering a field that I know virtually nothing about, don't know anyone at the new place and, after the CEO, CFO and President of the company, there's me. Yup, that's right. No more entry level, support positions for this girl.

What happens when they find out that I don't really know what the hell I am doing?????

this & that

my new favourite product ---- Burt's Bees Lip Shimmer (watermelon and champagne are my 2 favourites). you see I hate the feeling of lip stick or lip gloss but am addicted to my Burt's Bees chapstick, so now I can get a little hint of colour without the ickiness of lip stick/gloss.

latest television obsession: Tuckerville. seriously, I am OBSESSED with this show. WT to the max which of course is what makes it so fabulous

can't wrap my head around: "But can they sing?" can anyone help me out on this one?

and we're back ....

After a 5 month hiatus all is well, lots has changed and this blog will (most probably) be back in action on a regular basis.

I offer for your amusement last night's adventure:

I went out last night to my neighbourhood store to get some milk for Monday's morning coffee and was accosted by a strange woman accusing me of having an affair with her husband and being the reason that he left her and wrecking her marriage.

WTF?????

What I managed to get of her was this:

Her husband walks their dog Skye in the morning at around the same time that I walk Maggie. Several other people, mostly men, walk their dogs in and around the same time and place as well. Most mornings I am the only woman out there, basically because I live in a predominantly family oriented neighbourhood and I guess it is the dads' job to walk the family mutt in the morning. (note to self: must remember to pick one of those useful household items up for dog-walking, trash removal, etc). Anyway, this is the basis for her MISTAKEN belief that I am having an affair with her husband --- she had seen us walking the dogs together, ergo the next logical step was sex, I guess.

Now it wasn't until she told me the name of their dog that I figured out who her husband was and, in a word, YUCK!!!! There are some rather attractive dad's in the neighbourhood if I was inclined that way (which I am not, (being a homewrecker, that is)), but this man? No way!!!!! Comb-over city, baby. And paunchy. And pale. I mean, come on, if I am going to be branded a husband-stealing hussy at least let it be with the chocolate lab's hunky dad, Bill.

I think I managed to convince this woman that she was mistaken, but I'm not sure, so Maggie and I will be very, very cautious when we venture out after dark in the future .....

p.s. new career starting May 1 and I am very excited about it

TBC 2006

probably

edit: okay, so it's not, like, going to be FOREVER. just for now

nothing's wrong, nothing all that exciting is happening and Eve, I am NOT being incarcerated (thanks for the note of concern, though)

My new crush

Not only is he super cute ---- have you seen the cover of Details? But he just adopted a Puggle. I mean, come on, that is swoon-worthy!

we need to talk

Quite possibly the 4 most dreaded words in the English language, especially when uttered in terms of a budding relationship. Well boys and girls I was on the receiving end of those words last week and am still reeling. Once the vomiting and crying stopped I was kind of able to look at the situation rationally. Here's what happened.

Saturday night: dinner party, fabulous time, the "not just a torrid affair" line was delivered, happy, happy Kathryn

Sunday morning: slightly awkward, but to be expected, still a happy girl

Monday & Tuesday: spoke with him briefly both days, but was okay with that as I knew he was ridiculously busy (we work at the same place, I know what he's up to) and also knew we had plans for Friday so was not worried.

Wednesday morning: got an email from him "I'm not ignoring you, just completely consumed with work and it looks like I will be Friday and all weekend. Will keep you apprised." My reply: 'didn't think you were ignoring me, but thanks for the note. I appreciate it."

Wednesday night: He calls on his way home from work, around 8 "can I come over?" "sure, any particular reason?" (am not all that thrilled as have just come in from a run, am tired and hungry and have a headache) "yes, we have to talk" "about...." "last weekend" "oh, okay then"

He arrives, I basically flinch when he goes to kiss me, knowing what's coming, and he proceeds to tell me that he thought he was ready for this, but realizes now that he's not and wants to go back to where we were before the weekend, you know, just dating and doing stuff and taking it slow. He stayed for a few hours, long enough for me to know that I did not wnat to loose him, and then left. I did not cry in front of him, but sure made up for it once he was out the door.

What did the emotional and irrational Kathryn hear?? "The thought of being with you makes me physically sick".

I know that's not what he said, but that's what I heard.

I asked him why he had started this thing in the first place, it was all him, his idea, his pace, etc. I was (am) a willing participant, but totally followed his lead.

I wanted to see where it would go, was the response. I love spending time with you and doing things with you an being with you, it's just that I can't give you all of me right now (divorce, kids, work, etc.)

Well, babe, here it is. Here is where it has gone. Happy??

I guess I am the most dispensable stress at the moment.

So here we are, in relationship limbo, still friends, still technically "dating", I can't keep food down (though wine works), my house is SPOTLESS, I have redecorated my apartment (it looks fabulous). I don't regret it, I am just pissed as hell at him for making me act like this. It would a whole hell of a lot easier if I could just tell him to fuck right off and get the hell out of my life, but I can't.

So, I guess I'll wait. And give him whatever space and time he needs and trust that he will, in fact, come to his bloody senses sooner rather than later. The only thing I know for certain is that I want him in my life, and NOT as a "buddy".

On a happier note, I have a fun visitor arriving later this week for the weekend. I am sure there will be many amusing tales to tell (if I am permitted to do so ...).

Jill --- romantic comedy enough for you?? I am waiting for the comedy part.

Just when I thought I'd seen it all ....

Guy on a Crappy Tire variety "mountain bike", dressed in jeans, windbreaker and cowboy boots, talking on a cell phone, smoking a joint, all while riding on the sidewalk up Robson Street at lunch time.

Yes, I resisted the urge to hip-check him right in to traffic.

Barely.

not just a torrid affair

"I wanted to be sure that if we started this it wasn't just going to be a torrid affair. I'm in this for the long haul."

Now, isn't that what pretty much every woman wants to hear?

Friday randomness

Okay, I apologize for being so bloody boring -- you can stop emailing me and calling me to tell me this. The "problem" is that I am actually quite content at the moment and I guess my being content translates into my being boring. Sorry. In an attempt at reparation, I offer this:

1. One of our receptionists here at work wears the most God-awful perfume known to man. Actually, I don't think it's perfume at all, more like one of those tacky body sprays from the 80's. In fact, she probably bought it in the 80's, in bulk. Anyway, the smell makes me retch. Up to now this hasn't been such a huge problem because she worked 6 floors above me and I didn't have to be in her "zone" all that often. However, that all changed yesterday. She is now the receptionist down on this floor and is contained in the reception area between 2 doors --- which just serves to intensify the stink. If I complain, they will ban everyone from wearing anything scented and that's not fair. What to do, what to do. Suggestions welcome... (and we haven't even touched on her fashion sense, or lack thereof. Just think big time WT)

2. Arguing with me about what coffee I ordered is NOT A GOOD IDEA. I order the same damn thing every morning and have done so for the past 4 years. Arguing with a girl at 8:20 in the morning before she has had her caffeine is just plain STUPID. I know that I ordered a 4-shot venti Americano. everyone else at your store knows that's what I ordered. don't try and pawn off your lame-ass chai latte on me. I don't drink that. Ever. Tyler (old manager who abandoned us last week for a new store) I miss you!!!!

3. I get to have dinner tomorrow night at the non-date's house -- aside: I think we can now officially remove the "non" prefix from his name -- with another couple, his oldest friends. Now you might be thinking, isn't;t that lovely. Well, you see, he told me a few months ago when we were just starting with the whole non-dating thing that traditionally he went with them sailing in the Caribbean and the like on holidays pretty much every spring and summer. They told him this year that while he was always welcome, as were his children, any other women, though she would undoutedly be lovely, would not be. I don't think he remembers telling me this little tidbit of information. I won't remind him of it until after. Forewarned is forearmed and all that I guess. Will report back Monday if I survive.

Happy Friday!! (and I promise to try and be miserable and therefore more entertaining)

We've come a long way, baby

I was flipping through a book on cross-examination recently (I know, what a damned exciting life I lead) and came across this gem:

The Female Witness

There is an old view that women are impossible to cross-examine and so should be avoided. Myths have grown up over the years about the difficulty of cross-examining women and how any attempt to do so only leads to tragedy for your client's cause.

If the witness happens to be a woman, and at the close of her testimony in-chief it seems that she will be more than a match for the cross-examiner, it often works like a charm on the jury to practise upon her what may be styled the silent cross-examination. Rise suddenly as if you intend to cross-examine. The witness will turn a determined face toward you, preparatory to demolishing you with her first answer. This is the signal for you to hesitate a moment. Look her over good naturedly as if you were in doubt whether it would be worthwhile to question her - and sit down. It can be done by a good actor in such a manner to be equivalent to saying to the jury, "what's the use? She is only a woman."

This passage is from a wonderful text, Cross-Examination, The Art of the Advocate, by Roger E. Salhany, A Judge of the District Court of Ontario. Date? 1988. That's right, not 1888, 1988.

We can vote, right?? And own property, and hold down a job, etc.?? Just checking.

To flush or not to flush

that, dear readers, is the question.


I am getting rather sick of the Sea Monkeys so I am going to leave it up to anyone who cares enough to bother:

flush or not??

p.s. Paula & Sarah - I got your message, a non-dating update to follow (and it's GOOD)

The Ice Queens' Dream Team

Here they are, the Ice Queens "Dream Team" -- we currently sit in 5th place, out of a possible 18, and one of our key players isn't even playing. Sergei, that's okay, we know you will come out with guns blazing by mid-season. We still love you.

To quote the most recent edition of our newsletter:

"Team Ice Queens is further proof that luck, not skill, plays the greater role in team selection. With only two criteria for team selection - the players must be cute, and the players must be air heads - Ice Queens hold down 8th place. [now we are in 5th -- take that!!!] Look for this team to be in trouble when their players all sign contracts to endorse men's perfumes, and quit hockey for good."

B. Shanahan

P. Sykora

T. Selanne

M. Ryder

A. Perezhogin

B. Morrow

Saku Koivu

Ed Jovanovski

Sergei Federov

M. Bell

Biting my tongue, and it hurts

Like it or not, we are all creatures of habit. I take the same bus in to work every morning, hit the Starbucks at Chapters on Robson for my 5 shot Venti Americano at pretty the same time every morning, and then make my way up the street to the office. Others are also on this "schedule" so the same group of us tend to congregate around the bar area of Starbucks awaiting our morning caffeinated beverage of choice. I am having a hard time keeping my mouth shut about something (shocking, I know) ---- a woman around my age complain each and every morning that she is just not loosing any weight. I am NOT one to comment on another's weight, as it is a VERY sensitive issue with me but this may just be the exception.

Now this woman is around my height, 5'9 or thereabouts, but probably outweighs me by at least 50 pounds and makes me feel quite petite. Each and every morning she orders a venti white mocha WITH WHIP. I went to the handy dandy Starbucks calorie counter and that little bevy weighs in at a whopping 650 calories! She has one of these mochas at least 5 times a week (that I know of). I don't care that she drinks them --- knock yourself out, baby. What bothers me is her constant whining about how she's not loosing any weight while drinking them.

No fucking kidding.

Sunshine and Light

So apparently I am supposed to be less negative at the workplace as I am a "role model" and people "look to me for direction" and "take their cues from me". And this is my problem because???? Also, they don't pay me near enough to be a bloody role model for the rabble.

Anyway, I am taking this opportunity to spew forth the bile and bitterness that has accumulated yesterday and today so that I will emit only sunshine and light here at work.

1. why are you still wearing white pants??? It's the fucking end of October for Chrissakes!!!! It's not even like it's a week or two past Labour Day --- Halloween is 6 sleeps away. I know that white is more acceptable these days out of season, but I do believe that this "rule" applies to winter white, more cream, and to textiles like wool and silk, NOT cotton and linen.

2. personal hygiene; I am a HUGE fan. Buy some deodorant, please. If you can't afford it, go to a shelter, they will give you some for FREE. Listen, you stink and I can't be anywhere near you without retching.

3. open toed shoes (see 1, above). If it's Saturday and not raining or snowing and you are at the beach or kicking round the coffee shop in loungewear, fine (sort of). But at work? With a suit? Or worse, nylons???????? 'nuff said

4. I don't care that you are a "foreign student". You are in Canada now. Get with the program.

5. I don't get paid enough to put up with your crap.

6. you are NOT more important than me. or anyone, for that matter. get over yourself.


Okay, sunshine and light for here on in ......

The Pink Birkin

So I could try and pretend that "stuff" really doesn't really mean all that much to me but that would really be ONE BIG FAT LIE!!!!!!!!!!!!! I love nice things. And nice things tend to be expensive. As one person recently pointed out, I have champagne taste on a water budget (and tap water at that).

My latest obsession? The pink Hermes Birkin bag. (this means admitting of course that I watch the Gilmour Girls religiously, and I'm okay with that). It can be mine for a mere $29,500 (USD) on ebay. It will go fabulously with the Manolos I plan to one day own, at a far more reasonable $749.00 (CDN).

You see? Expense is all relative.

Maggie at Camp

My sister has taken Maggie with her to Camp Brakendale for the week, leaving me footloose and fancy free (though I miss the little monster). She called last night (my sister, not Maggie) with a report on her first full day.

Now my sister's dog, Trudy, is governed by food. However, she is also very lazy. Maggie, on the other hand, is far too clever for her own good and motivated by the challenge. My sister keeps Trudy's food in an old firewood box that has a hinged, not latched, lid. Trudy is well aware that that is where the food is kept, but not that she is very able to get at it whenever she chooses. This set up works for them.

Enter Maggie.

Last night my sister came home from work to find Maggie holding open the lid to the food box while Trudy was chowing down. Paula said the image was priceless, and was upset that she couldn't capture this true Kodak Moment.

The lid is now being weighted for the duration of the princess's stay.

Oh, and much do you think my vegan sister is enjoying feeding Maggie her nightly dinner of raw chicken carcass???

Train wreck, again

Yeah, so it seems I've dropped 10 pounds (1 and a bit dress sizes) in the last 2 weeks, can survive on 3 hours of sleep and night and need nothing more than 8 coffees a day and the occasional glass of wine to keep me alive. Oh, and I am jonesing for a cigarette like you wouldn't believe, but I WILL NOT give in to that temptation.

Why? Yup, that's right, the Non-Date.

We went to a wedding together yesterday --- an old friend of his second. We had a lovely time. I had a great outfit. He was the perfect date. He referred to us as "we" throughout --- as is "we'll have them over for dinner" and "we'll get together with them when I get back from holiday". It felt great. I felt confident and fabulous and all that stuff.

It was a noon wedding and so we left by 4. We then went for a long walk at the beach in the pouring rain (we changed out of the party clothes), then back to his place for tea, then he made us dinner and we talked and talked and talked about EVERYTHING except what I needed/wanted to talk about. There were a few opportune times when it would have been perfect to bring it up, but his ex-wife called 3 times. He asked me each time if I minded if he picked up. Of course not, it could be about the kids or something equally important. (it was the first time; the second and third were about stereo/video hookups). That weirded me out, so I backed off. He drove me home at 11.

I think I maybe got to sleep at 4 a.m., up at 7 and at the office by 8:30. I look like HELL.

Here's the thing: he is going to Mexico Wednesday morning for 2 weeks (the trip I am not going on). I thought I could wait until he got back to ask him where I/we/he stands. I can't. So, I emailed him about an hour ago to see if he had time for me at some point tonight. haven't heard. I feel like I am going to throw up.

When I am with him I am happy and content. When I am not, I am a raving lunatic. This is very new to me, the control and emotionally stunted freak that I am.

Happy, happy times in my life at the moment.

Fishing

Can someone please explain to me the fun in fishing for salmon while they are trying to get their tired asses up the river???

I get fishing in general. Really, I do. I don't eat the things, but whatever. What I don't get are the people who line the Capilano River during the spawning season trying to catch the suckers. Where is the sport in that? These fish are TIRED. And BEAT TO SHIT. Have you ever seen a salmon after it has made its way up a long river?? NOT PRETTY.

The whole thing kind of reminds me of the assholes who feed the deer all summer long in their backyards and the day hunting season opens, BAM! Dead. Nice.

Happy Friday!

Sea Monkey Photos part deux

okay, well here are the long-awaited photos of the creepy Sea Monkeys. You'll have to look real close, as they are pretty small and hard to capture with the camera we have at our disposal. I am also sad to report that the Sea Monkey population seems to have decreased markedly over the long weekend.

Those little white things floating around? That's them.

George and the monkeys

Up-close with the monkeys

That's the view from my, unfortunately, temporary office

That's it!

Sea Monkey Photos - the set up

Here are photos from the "creation" stage of the great SM adventure (to quote MM). Due to technical difficulties photos of the actual creepy critters won't be available until next week

preparing the water

the monkeys keep George (was Stroumboulopoulos, now Clooney) company

The Official Executive Sea Monkey Kit

(pretty fancy, dontcha think??)

Now, wasn't that worth the wait?????

Les Singes du Mer*

I don't know about you all, but the mythical seamonkeys have always intrigued me, so just imagine my glee when I found the Executive Sea Monkey kit kicking around the office! After careful reading of instructions, a quick email to the all-knowing MM who subsequently directed me here, I was set to go --- just add water ....

For the first few days, NOTHING. We watched, and watched and then watched some more. Otherwise highly intelligent people dropped by with increasing frequency to check on the little guys. NADA. The I took a day off from work and voila, they live!!

The first week of life was really weird. There seemed to be hundreds of them and they moved about the "tank" in what appeared to be computer-animated rigidity. We established our feeding schedule, Monday mornings, and watched them grow.

And grow they did.

And cannibalize they did.

There are now markedly fewer than when we started, but those that remain are growing rapidly. And now they look weird. And creepy. And kind of gross, to be honest. But still they grow. And still they attack visitors. In light of the increased traffic through my office I have updated the George Clooney photo (currently using the one from the cover of Vogue, Men's edition). This has been noted and appreciated.

I tried taking pictures of them but they are not very photogenic. Which is probably a good thing, 'cause they really are creepy looking.

Our next adventure, I think, will be introducing Feathers, one of the boys' Siamese Fighter Fish, to our little monkeys of the sea. We will also probably be taking bets as to how long it takes him to clean out the colony, so ....



*Sea Monkeys for you non-francophiles

How to tell you are getting old, Part I

Yesterday morning I gave my old Sex Pistols t-shirt to a friend's teenage son for his Halloween costume and told him to keep it as chances are I was never going to wear it again. He was thrilled. (not to mention impressed that I had an old Sex Pistols shirt)

I had the Kelly Clarkson* cd in my discman last night on the way home from work (yeah, yeah, yeah, I know I should have an iPod, that's coming, but until then I am happy "kicking it old style" with the discman) and was totally loving it.

Then it hit me --- I have gone from The Sex Pistols (Violent Femmes, The Cure, The Cult, The Smiths, etc) to Kelly Clarkson. I AM OLD. SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! When did that happen?????

When I got home I put Green Day on REALLY LOUD and felt better.

*shut up --- it's good and you know you like it too

It's all about the follow-up

Disclaimer: I was reading back and I seem to be obsessing over my budding non-relationship A LOT. I am sure you are bored of it. Well, too bad. My blog, my contents.

Okay, so back to Friday ...

Tamara and I decided that we didn't want to go the the store launch thingy, so I told non-date that actually I was free if he still wanted to do something (have I mentioned that earlier on Friday I insulted his clothing in a very loud voice in a rather public place? The hurt look on his face will not soon be forgotten ... and to you men out there, pleated, cuffed khakis teamed with a beige on beige plaid/checked shirt with brown shoes and a brown belt is not a wise choice. I'm just saying.) Anyway, after thanking me for basically saying that hanging out with him was better than nothing, he took me our for a lovely walk to the beach and then a great dinner at a fabulous restaurant that I had never been to.

Then we walked back to his car and about halfway back I realized that he was holding my hand. (the appropriate sound now is "aww!!!")

We got to his car, I grabbed my stuff and he had to go to the airport to pick up his ex-wife. Yes, I am well aware that that sounds like an awkward situation, but it's not, really.

When I got home there was a message from him on my phone: "just calling to tell you that I had a lovely, lovely time tonight and I really enjoy spending time with you and sorry we had to cut it short. Have an excellent weekend"

Yes, I got all tingly and grinny and called him back while I was out walking the dogs and we had a lovely chat and well folks, I do believe we have the clarity I was looking for.

The hand holding was nice, but what clinched it was the follow-up call.

(oh, and apparently my wardrobe comment really struck a nerve and we will be paying Banana Republic a visit next week. I am really good at spending other people's money)

Just a trainwreck, waiting to happen

My life or lyrics to a Sarah McLachlan song? At the moment, both.

I have had a very turbulent week:

Monday: it was like "all aboard the stupid bus!" time and I had to deal with each and every passenger, patiently and nicely. And I felt like crying, constantly. The non-date was helpful in that he put up with my end of day venting, but not with much else.

Tuesday: more even-keeled

Wednesday: totally great for the most part

Thursday: emotional rollercoaster, too much late-night brain activity, resulting in 2 hours sleep (between 4 am and 6 am) --- thankfully CSI is on pretty much all night

Friday: just had a very weird conversation with the non-date, and any sense of confidence that I thought I had as to where this whole thing was going seems to have evaporated. Am thinking I might actually have to get good and drunk and just ask him where the fuck his head is.

Which brings me to the trainwreck portion of this program.

*UPDATE:

this is what happened to me opn my lunch hour:

I called a perfect stranger "fuckface" when I mistook him for someone else to whom the term"fuckface" would have been seen as a loving one; almost got my teeth kicked in by a drugged-out panhandler and came too very close to getting my nose pierced. Yes, I am still (amazingly) in one piece and then ...

okay, so things may be turning out better that anticipated, given our exchange earlier today. Back in control, feel like I am reading things right, just turned down an invitation to go out this evening as am already busy with the lovely Tamara, but confirmed an invite for next Thursday for Port & Chocolate. Feeling oh so much better about things now!

Bon weekend mes amis!

The Puggle!!

This is Decker. He is coming today to stay with the Princess and me again, thus supplementing my penchant for cashmere and hers for walks. Now I am not normally a small dog person but Decker is definitely the exception.

My sister's felonious past

Some have expressed surprise that I would accuse or suspect my sister of stealing TP from me. Let me give you some insight ...

Bank robbery: many, many years ago we all used to bank at the same bank on Greene Avenue. I opened my first account with the contents of my piggybank when I was about 5 or so. Everyone at the branch new us, paperwork was eschewed and it was not unusual for one of us to do the banking of the other (this was long before the advent of the ATM). However, imagine my surprise when I went one day to make a sizable withdrawal to be told that there were insufficient funds. Apparently my darling sister had taken it upon herself to take a "loan" direct from my account. All banking privileges regarding my account were quickly revoked.

Petty theft: this one ranks among her most embarrassing past transgressions; she "borrowed" the money left out for our cleaning lady. From that day forward neither her laundry nor her room got any attention from the lovely Sarah. She is aware that she will be spending quite a bit of post-living time atoning for this one.

B&E: more than once she has arrived at my office wearing my clothes, having stopped by my house and having forgotten her key (of which she has at last 2 copies), broken in through my bedroom window (which is frighteningly easy) and helped herself to the contents of my closet. And fridge. Though when she does take stuff from the fridge she leaves a note: "took your hummus. yummy"

Petty Theft II: we were at home (my parents'), friends were over, I offered to make the run to the local dep for supplies like cigarettes, chips, etc and took orders. Including hers. I said don't worry about money, I have some in my wallet, we'll settle up when I get back. It was winter. In Montreal. And I was walking. Which was fine, because it was a nice snowy night out and I had to walk the dog anyway. That is until I got to Macs, had everything on the counter, rung up and ready to go when I went into my wallet and guess what? IT WAS EMPTY! Guess who emptied it? That's right, my sister.

All that is in the past (except for the recent clothescapade, but that's okay). So you can now see why it is not out of the realm of possibility that I might think her capable of pilfering the crack crack.

Meet the children

So I spent Saturday with the man I am not dating and his son. And then his daughter joined us. I survived to tell the tale.

According to the son I am, like, dad's coolest friend. How did I achieve such an elevated status so quickly? Well, I knew the best place to get supplies for Halloween costumes, knew that spray starch was the required element for producing the perfect mohawk (again, part of the Halloween costume and I am not so sure dad was impressed with my imparting this info) and, above all, I have skied on some very impressive, apparently, skis (due solely to the fact that my cousin was a Salomon rep and would let me use whatever demos he had handy and so I got to try some pretty nifty stuff. However, that said, I was not all that impressed the extra-wide, dual tips mainly because they are not designed for speed, and I was racing.) However, they did impress son and I'll take that.

We actually had a lovely day --- Stanley Park, coffee, lunch on a sunny patio --- where I almost died, but caught the errant shrimp in my salad before it could do much damage to me. Then daughter came to meet us and my first glimpse of her and she of me was from across the street where I got the very distinct "who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing with my dad" once over. I have never experienced that before. Wow. Anyhow, face to face she was very pleasant and only made one jabbing comment in the car along the lines of well "where do you live?" as if trying to suss out if I was after her dad for his money (I'm not, duh).

Well, that obstacle has been tackled and I emerged relatively unscathed, save for the shrimp incident, but I'll live.

And again, a boy thinks I'm cool =).

Reality TV??

Who was the braniac who decided that showing the live news coverage of the JetBlue emergency to the passengers on board the bloody plane that was having the landing issues would be a good idea???

dumbass

Charmin --- crack for your posterior??

As I was changing the roll of TP on Sunday (a detail from my life you probably don't need to know, but tuff, you're reading MY blog) I realized that it had lasted a whole week. Now why this is important is because two weeks ago I actually ran out of TP, which was weird. However, it was a Friday morning and I live alone (Maggie doesn't use this particular supply) and knew that I would buy some on the way home from work, so wasn't all that concerned (file running out of TP as just another reason why I need a wife/personal assistant to take care of these details when I am preoccupied with other stuff, like work, non-dating, etc).

Anyway, my sister and a friend dropped by my place to drop off her dog and use the facilities. Finding no TP she did the only other logical thing, used wrapping tissue, thus successfully clogging my toilet. Unable to find my plunger (which is kept under the kitchen sink) she closed the lid, shut the door and left me a note. Imagine my joy when I got home from work, new package of Charmin in hand, to find her note and the clog.

This was over Labour Day weekend and she spent the 3 days with me in the city. The following Sunday, I realized that I was yet again out of TP --- WTF??? 4 rolls in 8 days? That just seemed wrong. This is why I was aware that one roll had lasted me, alone, an entire week, thus causing me to come to one of two logical conclusions possible in this scenario: 1. my sister uses A LOT of TP or 2. she is stealing rolls to try and cut costs. Now she did mention that she found the Charmin especially soft and cushy. You see, she is far more ecologically minded than I am, basically a pinecone eater who wears Prada, and so her TP is of the rough, unbleached, safe and friendly for the environment variety. The Charmin is kind of like crack for her butt. I am thinking she stuffed a roll or two in her bio-degradable, reusable and recyclable bag when she went back home ....

All of this caused me to think of "The Bad Girl's Guide to Getting What You Want" by Cameron Tuttle. Some highlights:

The joy of a bonus

One roll of toilet paper: $0.59
One heist
of toilet paper: $11.21
One year of toilet paper heists: $134.52
Knowing
you'll never have to buy toilet paper again ... priceless.

Pilfering toilet paper like a pro

Sure you can swipe one roll of toilet paper every day for the rest of
your life. But where's the challenge in that? Where's the thrill? Where's the volume in the volume discount? Besides, it's kind of a buzz kill when you reach into your bag after a few drinks at happy hour and a roll of TP flies out along with your business card and unrolls across the floor, stopping at the feet of the hot guy you were hoping to hook up with. It's far more fun to challenge yourself and stage a monthly TP heist when you're sure you'll be going straight home.

One roll under your hat.

One flattened in each bra cup.

One tucked into each arm pit.

Six to eight threaded on a large belt around your waist under a coat.

One (wrapped in foil) on a long silver chain around your neck.

Two to four stuffed down your pantyhose if you're wearing a skirt or in
your kneesocks if wearing pants.

Two to four (depending upon shoe size) taped to the soles of your shoes, transforming them into temporary platforms.

So my question to you is this: Have you ever stolen TP??

To surf or not to surf, that is the question

Last week I was at the receiving end of a rather light-handed invitation:

"I still have that extra spot booked at surf camp. Why don't you come?"

I was then sent the URL's for both the camp and flight information.

Reasons not to go:

1. can't afford it
2. the thought of spending the better part of a week in a bathing suit in public fills me with a huge sense of dread
3. passport out of date (though could get one in 5 days for a fee)
4. can't afford it
5. not clear on the sleeping arrangements

Reasons to go:

1. hello, surfing in Mexico for a week
2. away from here for a week
3. not clear on the sleeping arrangements
4. it could quite possibly be very fun and would make for a great story

So, this is my dilemma. The sane and rational side of my brain says: "Under no circumstances do you go to Mexico to surf camp with that person at the end of October". The fun and reckless side says "WTF ---go, you idiot!! You can find the money, you have the time coming, you're over 18, what/who will it hurt??"

Currently the sane side is winning.

Super Maggie to the rescue!!!

I know this may come as a shock to you dear readers, but sometimes, just sometimes, I'm not so bright. I am also in a huge state of denial over the fact that summer is drawing to a close and the days are getting shorter and it is, therefore, getting darker earlier. Combine those two factors and you have what happened to me last night.

Got home, traded the suit for my dog-walking duds (I actually wore REAL SHOES to the office for the first time in like 4 months!!!!) and off we set for the woods. I had some stuff to mull over (like an off-handed invitation to surf camp in Mexico this October which will be discussed in another post) so decided to go for the long version of the walk. Mutt Face was thrilled, natch.

Half-way back I noticed that it was far darker than I was comfortable with it being and I hadn't had the forethought to bring my handy-dandy and very fashionable Petzel (halogen hiking headlamp for the uninitiated). D'oh!!! Oh, well, no choice but to carry on as I had to get out of the woods somehow.

All of a sudden I heard a very loud woosh-woosh coming from somewhere and then it was on me --- AN OWL! Attacking my ponytail!!!!!!! HOLYMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT!!!!! I am absolutely terrified of flying things, even, to quote young Art Lad, common-fucking-finches (Thomas did not use "fucking" - my artistic licence). This was my worst nightmare come true. HOLYMOTHERFUCKINGSHIT I am going to die right here in the woods at the talons of this owl.

And then, SUPER MAGGIE TO THE RESCUE! She was up ahead of me but heard my pathetic screeching and came charging back, in full bark mode --- snarling and snapping and barking like there was no tomorrow. That damn owl took off but quick.

I eventually stopped shaking and leashed Super Maggie so as to keep her by my side in case that pesky bird decided to come back for round 2. She got extra yummy treats and lots and lots of tummy rubs when we got home.

Good to know I can count on her in an emergency .....

Whoever did this video is genius, seriously

Now I am not a fan of boy bands, my love for Robbie Williams notwithstanding, but only since he left Take That, but the new Backstreet Boys video for "Just want you to know" is frickin' fabulous!! Seriously --- perhaps the best mullet wigs I have ever seen, the clothes, the hair, the style, the guy holding the girl's hair back as she pukes in the parking lot, the toilet paper rammed up the driver's nose (Kevin??), Nick Carter's facial expressions as he sings along in the car, the way the whole damn thing is filmed -- I am so loving this video. It comes straight out of Heavy Metal Parking Lot. I saw Aerosmith at the Worcester Centrum in 1985 or 1986 and 95% of the crowd looked just like this rag-tag crew. They have every detail down and it is riveting. Trust me, start lurking around on MuchMusic or MTV or whatever your video station of choice is. it is very much worth it.

That's all

Further Adventures in Non-Dating

The next non-date was to be a Saturday hike up the back of Cypress Mountain with Maggie. "I'll pick you up around noon" was how we left things Friday.

Yippee!!!!

Saturday morning I took the mutt out for an early run and then brush her to make her even more fabulous than she already is (and we have established that she's fabulous, right??). Then I showered and shaved (??!!), buffed and puffed, moisturized, etc. Okay, I'll stop now. Suffice to say I was looking and smelling quite delicious. I had already agonized over what hiking ensemble to don so that I would look as fetching as possible, yet still be able to pull off the "this is what I found on the floor and what we always wear when trudging through the back country" act. I was positively giddy. Hair was next --- you know the look that takes ages to achieve but looks like you just rolled out of bed and have every intention of going right back there? Yeah, that one. But I never got there.

The phone rang. It was the very sheepish and pathetic sounding non-date. Bailing. Seems his brother's bachelor party the night before had got the better of him. (now I knew that this was a possibility, but had hoped he might have been sensible the night before, but no)

I was all cool and nonchalant and told him that Maggie would give him a much harder time about cancelling than I would, blah, blah, blah, you're too old for this crap (he's 44), blah, blah. We'll chat next week. Fine.

DAMMIT TO HELL, ANYWAY!!!!!

No matter, I called Tamara and off we went to a matinee of "The Exorcism of Emily Rose" (not bad, but not nearly as scary as anticipated or hoped for).

FF to Monday - When I got back to the office from lunch, one of the girls stopped and asked if it was my birthday (May 30 for those keeping track. Gifts are, of course, always welcome). Nope, why? Well, there's a bouquet of flowers on your desk so I thought ....

Yippee!!! Must be "sorry about bailing Saturday, I'm a dumbass, let's go for dinner so that I can wine and dine you in the way you deserve" flowers!!!!

Nope.

Which is not to take away from the flowers, the person who sent them or the sentiment behind them. They are lovely and it was very thoughtful and certainly brightened my Monday.

3 weeks ago my life was nice and simple and uncomplicated. Now I am all edgy and fluttery and uncertain. Basically NOT IN CONTROL and this is not a way I like to be.

So, for the moment, as far as I am concerned, and with some exceptions, and you know who you are and know that I love you madly:

MEN SUCK!!!!!

More Gratuitous Maggie

again, I know I am biased, but please --- SHE'S FAB-U-LOUS!!!

(photo courtesy of Marcus)

OBGYN - OMYGOD!!!!!

PARENTS' ADVISORY: THE FOLLOWING IS NOT FOR THE SQUEAMISH OR Y-CHROMOSOMED CHALLENGED WHO FAINT AT THE MENTION OF "WOMAN TROUBLE"

A friend's last pap experience:

She's on the table, legs spread, doc about to do his thing when the window cleaner appeared in the window directly opposite the exam table. End of exam.

Stalking Hugh Jackman

The perks of having this new office are endless ---- X3 is setting up shop directly under my window, so I can work productively (!!) and stalk Mr. Jackman all at the same time.

Ain't multi-tasking grand??

Happy Friday!

(sunny disposition has, apparently, returned)

Sunny disposition creeping back ....

Okay, so the moods improving, or maybe I'm just too bloody tired to care anymore. No matter, I am no longer having homicidal urges (though working in criminal law does have its perks --- I know how to make it so that I would get off ...) and that's a most excellent thing.

Making me smile today:

• quite possibly the best looking man I have seen in a long while (and this includes the non-date) walking past past me when I arrived at work this morning, at 7:30, and yes, I was caught staring
  
• that all this overtime is going to afford me some nifty new duds for fall
  
• my friends keep sending me silly things via email to help cheer me up --- THANK YOU!!
  
• it is still sunny and I have this fabulous window in my temporary office digs so I can bask in all the sunny goodness, not to mention watch the freaks at the courthouse fountain, which include shirtless guy (not a happy sight) and the guys who seem to spend endless hours and days cleaning the fountain, and the sea gulls and geese hang out in the water
  
• another possible non-date is in the wings
  

And on that note, to satisfy Wade's astute curiosity as to how it was that my sister met him, you see, Paula met me for lunch last Monday and on our way back to the office we ran into him (kind of, anyway) so they met and her take was as follows: very attractive, excellent handshake (a MUST), good smile, pants were a tad too high (we can fix that) and he did the arm touch thing a couple of times (I did not notice that) and I didn't flinch, which for me is saying something (one might say that I have large personal boundaries and tend to recoil when someone goes to, say, hug me or something). An overall positive assessment, though being divorced with 2 teenage kids is just slightly intimidating and on my "list" of criterion of what NOT to look for when dating someone, or not dating someone as the case may be.

and it's my mum's birthday today -- Happy Birthday Mum!!!

Absolutely foul

is how to describe me right now. I am feeling so angry and pissed off and edgy and mean that I pretty much want to smack anyone and everyone who crosses my path upside the head. There are permanent tooth marks in my tongue.

I have been feeling this way for several days now and am done with it. I want my normal sunny disposition back. I hate feeling this way. I can find no cause or reason for my mood other than I probably really need to take a holiday and don't currently have the time or resources to do so.

What I really want to do is go hide somewhere with some excellent trashy novels, drink copious amounts of wine and chainsmoke 18 packs of cigarettes.

I'll let you know how it turns out.

To the pound!!!!

I worked most of yesterday, Labour day, and it was a welcome refuge from the chaotic hell that was my home this weekend.

Leaving the office Friday night I was eagerly anticipating my first "down" weekend all summer --- no weddings, parties, onerous obligations, NOTHING that I was required to do or attend. Sheer bliss. Yeah, whatever.

Got home Friday to find a note from my sister: Sorry, toilet plugged. SHIT (literally). That fixed I walked the mutts, 3 of them, fed them and then settled on the couch with a glass of wine and the remote control.

Paula was at Pearl Jam with a freind and they were both to stay chez moi, so I camped out on the couch. Woke up at 3:30 and no one was home yet. At 4:45, however, Paula arrived home, escorted by her bf, (who promptly left) and she then spent the next 3 hours of so dashing to the loo. it seems there was an abundance of dope being smoked at the concert, not actually by my sister, but in her general area, rendering her very, very ill. [weird Vancouver aside: if you dare light a cigarette, an angry mob descends upon you like you are the devil himself. but want to spark a fatty? go for it!!!] Thank goodness I fixed the first toilet problem ....

Saturday was pretty uneventful --- Paula spent most of it, save for running the 12 k to the West End to fetch her car (have I mentioned here yet that she is slightly mental??) on my couch napping with the puggle, a girlfriend came over and we all watched movies -- suprisingly I can highly recomemnd "The Upside of Anger". Kevin Costner didn't suck (!!) and the relationship between the mum (Joan Allen) and her 4 daughters was fabulous.

Then came Sunday.

My big plan was to meet the girls at 11:30 for brunch. That's it. Paula left earlier than me to meet up with the bf and his brother and gf so I was left to, again, walk to mutts. This should have been a no-brainer, and it was, until Trudy, Paula's dog, picked up the scent of bacon. I spent the next 1 1/2 hours searching for her in the GD pouring rain. She turned up about 6 blocks from my house.

Way behind schedule, I eventually made it to brunch and returned home

1 1/2 hours in the pouring rain looking for her yesterday morning (precious had taken off from the canyon, up the embankment, across Cap Road in search of bacon) and another 45 yesterday evening spent roaming the BP's.
BRAT!!
then Decker stole a chicken right out of Maggie's dish (bigger than him and he does not eat raw) and proceeded to eat it (and loved it and was none the worse for wear)

and Maggie rolled in a vast amount of bear shit

and Paula plugged my toilet Friday afternoon, which meant I had to "fix" it when I got home that night, and it was not pretty, then she arrived home at 4:30 a.m. from the Pearl Jam concert and spent the next couple of hours hurling in my bathroom (too much dope at the concert, though she was not smoking any)

my planless, eventfulless, peaceful "all about me" weekend was most definitely OFF