In the event of a real post...

So this obviously doesn't count as a real post...but it'll have to do for now. One of these days, I'll actually get un-busy and un-lazy. I had a FANTASTIC week last week...and a not bad one this week...and now we're into NEXT week already, and so far...s'okay.

Guys Like That You're Charming

You're the girl most guys can't get out of their heads Even if they met you on a bad hair day :-) You just seem to "click" with everyone you meet So even if a guy forgets about you for a second... his friends haven't!

What Do Guys Like About You?

Tagged by badgerdaddy

So I hate these things.  But I’m pretty keen on Badgerdaddy.  So here goes nothin’.

 

Seven things about me that may surprise you:

(Not much should surprise you these days—hey, I fessed up about my non-tax remitting ways…the musician…internet dating.  Not much is sacred here in blog-land.  But I’ll come up with something, I’m sure.)

 

1        I’m crazy for books.  Hardcover in particular.  I LOOOOVE them.  I love the physicality of a book.  I love that it’s a secret friend, just waiting to tell me its secrets.  I love finding a particularly well-written book and going back to visit the characters time after time.  They become my friends, albeit imaginary ones, and I want to know what they’re doing NOW.

 

2. I’m terrible with money.  I’m working hard at getting better with it, but I really and truly suck at managing my finances.  I have absolutely EVERYTHING on automated payments because otherwise I miss paying them.  I am absolute shit at caring about day-to-day crap.  I just can’t be bothered with the details.  Which is funny, because my JOB is all about details, follow through, and follow-up.  Go figure.

 

3. I simply can’t look at people with things in their teeth.  It makes me nauseous to see someone with something stuck to their face.  I’ll ALWAYS tell someone, even random strangers, if they have things on their face—but I’ll generally do it with my face turned away from you and my hand covering my eyes.  It truly repulses me and I don’t know why.  What’s funny, is that if it’s a business meeting, or I’m meeting someone’s parents, or the like…I can tell them and keep a straight face.  I’ll just politely mention it, and manage to not look completely and utterly revolted.  But it takes EVERYTHING I’ve got to pull it off.

 

4. I get angry with girls who play fast and loose with men’s emotions.  I feel a strong duty of care to look after people who are misguided enough to crush on me.  I have a difficult time telling people to ‘fuck off, I’m just not interested’.  I SHOW them…but men are generally not notorious for their collective ability to take a hint.  This is a problem for me, sometimes. 

 

I also hate trampy girls.  Have some self-respect.  Put on some clothes.  Your identity is not wrapped up in your boobs.  They contribute to who you are, but your entire self doesn’t begin and end with the 8 inches below your chin.  If a boy doesn’t like you for your brains and your self, he’s got a lot to learn.  You won’t always be so slim and taut.  So there’d best be some substance between your ears if you intend to still have a relationship 45 years from now.

 

5. I am not a yeller.  It takes a LOT to make me raise my voice.  I generally get much more quiet.  Much more calm, and collected.  And infinitely more polite and erudite.  I become an incredibly well-spoken, very formal, and intensely respectable opponent.  I find that this pretty much terrifies people as they are quite unused to it.  I pity the fool that does not recognize the steam rising from my ears in this type of situation.

 

6. I’m intensely independent.  I’d rather starve to death on a street corner than ask a friend for help.  It kills me to ask for favours, even if I’m desperate for the help.  I nearly DID starve the last year I dated Jesus-boy…he was making $100K USD a year, and I was working full-time at Tim Horton’s while I went to university full-time.  I wouldn’t even let him subsidize my long-distance phone bill—when it was used entirely on calling him.  Yeah…independence sometimes = stupidity.  But it’s important to me to pay my own way—I cringe to ever think that someone might think I used them in any way.

 

A corollary to that is that if anybody ever asks me for something?  And it’s within my physical capabilities to do it?  I will.  You want me to pick up your long lost uncle at the airport at 3 am?  I’ll do it.  You need someone to detail your car because you’re working that day?  Sure, I’ll give it a go.  You need to borrow $50 until payday? (well, this one I’m a bit stickier about—but if you’re my FRIEND?  I’ll sell something to make it happen.)  I have HUGE issues saying No to people, because I assume they have as difficult a time asking for help as I do.  I say yes, because I don’t know how to say no.  If you really need me?  I’m there.  And that goes for all of you.  Yes, I’m a bit of a sucker like that.

 

7. My pride is my absolute worst flaw.  There’s a reason it’s a deadly sin.  I hate not being able to do something, and I hate not being able to do it well.  I can’t imagine taking on a task and not giving it my wholehearted best effort.  I don’t want to sign my name, or stake my reputation, on something that is shoddy or imperfect.  My perfectionist tendencies have taken me a long time to come to terms with, and I’m still not quite there.    I’ll work myself non-stop until I’m physically unable to continue, if that’s what it takes to get a job done.   Because of this, I have a difficult time admitting defeat.  I will work and work and work until I can’t work any more, if I think the job is one that can (eventually) be completed.  I hate having to admit that someone else can do something that I can’t, if it’s something that doesn’t appear to be all that difficult.  That’s not to say I’m stupid.  I am happy to admit the things I know nothing about, and have no real aptitude for.  Mechanics, automotive repair, science, mathematics…all things I could probably figure out if I put my mind to it, but nothing I really care that much to learn...particularly when there are so many other people who are skilled at those things. 

 

 

Also from Badgerdaddy:
The rules:

1. Add a direct link to your post below the name of the person who tagged you. Include the city/state and country you're in.

Nicole (Sydney, Australia)
velverse (Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia)
LB (San Giovanni in Marignano, Italy)
Selba (Jakarta, Indonesia)
Olivia (London, England)
ML (Utah, USA)
Lotus (Toronto, Canada)
tanabata (Saitama, Japan)
Andi (Dallas [ish], Texas, United States)
Todd (Louisville, Kentucky, United States)
miss kendra (los angeles, california, u.s.a)
Jiggs Casey (Berkeley, CA, USA! USA! USA!)
Tits McGee (New England, USA)
Kat (Ontario, Canada)
badgerdaddy (Ludlow, Shropshire, England)

Canadian_Sadie (Halifax, NS, Canada)

 

2. List out your top 5 favorite places to eat at your location.

            1.  Il Mercato.  You’ve heard me gush about this place before.  Amazing Italian.  Two locations—Bedford and Spring Garden Road.  GREAT food; although, I do have to say, the last time I ate there the portions left quite a bit to be desired.  I don’t like to go home hungry.

            2.  Steak & Stein.  It’s a family style restaurant—steak, but you can actually afford to eat there.  Derby-style steaks are the yummiest!  Marinated, grilled however you like, with baked potato, coleslaw, soft drink, salad or PIE!!! For super cheap.  DEE-LICIOUS.

            3.  Fredie’s Fantastic Fish.  I hate seafood, but I love fish & chips.  It’s odd, I know.  They’ve got the absolute freshest, best tasting fish in town.  And I’m not the only one that thinks so.  They also have clams, lobster rolls, whatever other fishy-type stuff that fishy-type restaurants serve.  I don’t know; I don’t eat the stuff.  They started out with a chip-truck in Tantallon, and only opened the restaurant during the winter.  Now they have both, and they’re both wonderful.

            4.  Bud the Spud.  No listing of Halifax dining establishments would be complete without Bud the Spud’s chip truck.  This truck is seasonal, and can be found down in front of the library on Spring Garden Road.  It rocks.  If you can get past the beggars and the seagulls, you can pull up a piece of wall and eat fries out of a paper bag with a bunch of strangers.  This is one of the experiences that is TRULY Haligonian.  You’ve got to try it.  Trust me.

            5.  Jon Allan’s Steak house.  Incredible.  EXPENSIVE.  And did I mention incredible?

As you can see, I’m a carnivore.  There are a billion amazing restaurants in Halifax, and you should eat at every last one.  Not making the short list are Chives Bistro, Bish, Il Mediterraneano, Hamachi Steak House, The Cellar, Salvatore’s, and the Chicken Burger. (Mmmmm…Chicken Burger.)  But a girl’s got to draw the line somewhere.

(I’m also compiling this list at work, so do not have access to functioning hyperlinks.  I’ll go back in tonight and edit the urls back into the post so you can go and see these yummy, yummy places and their menus.)

3. Tag 5 other people (preferably from other countries/states) and let them know they've been tagged.

I don’t tag people.  If you want to do this?  Go for it.  If you don’t?  That’s cool too.  No pressure here.  Nope.  None.  Although, if you DO do it?  Could you leave your link in the comments, just in case I don’t know who you are?  There’s a lot of you just lurking out there that don’t ‘fess up to it, and in case I don’t already stalk you, I’d love to see what you have to say.

 

I'm in Love.

Today, I did the unthinkable.

I spent $4.95 on a loaf of bread at Pete's. It's from Julien's Bakery in the hydrostones in Halifax, and it's amazing. It's rosemary-olive loaf. And it's INCREDIBLE. Toasted with butter? A piece of heaven in convenient slice form.

I am soooo looking forward to breakfast.

I anticipate several attempts at replication over the next few days. I do, however, have the impression that if it doesn't turn out? It's going to be a horrifyingly evil tasting mess.

Meh. I say it's worth the effort...because Oh. My. God. So good.

I have a confession.

I hate the Dashboard.

The Dashboard taunts me. It says 'you SHOULD be posting'. It says 'you WANT to post'. It says 'I know you have nothing worth writing down'. And it's right. On all counts.

Perhaps I should NOT have the Dashboard set as my homepage? Perhaps that would help? I've sat down at the computer a dozen times since Wednesday to drop a dime into the well of words that is this blog. And each time, the Dashboard (accursed Dashboard!) has stuck out its tongue at me and muttered "Neener, neener, neener!"

First--some housekeeping. Hi there, new folks. ~wave~ Welcome. Even the scary guy who called me names over on somebody else's blog. You're welcome here too--because I think it's okay for people to have different opinions about stuff. That, and it's very seldom that I express serious political opinions here on my blog. I save that for reading elsewhere. Other people manage to express my opinions so much more eloquently than I am able.

Also in the spirit of housekeeping, a confession. I have still not submitted my taxes. I know, they were due on April 30th. But since I have not submitted my taxes since the year 2000, why would I start now? I mean, I filled them out. I DID them...but there's a cheque for $26.73 that I'll need to write. And I don't HAVE $26.73 to give them, so...meh. 5% surcharge? Whatever. They (the ominous, lurking, omnicient government) owe ME money from previous years; so, I'm sure it'll balance out in the long run. I hope. I should probably do something about it.

I STARTED to do something about it. I mean, I got out all the papers, and sorted them into neat little piles. I actually filled out a lot of the forms--but I'm missing a T4 from 2000, which throws a bit of a monkey-wrench in the works for the following years. Whatever. Excuses, I know. I'm full of them.

I have been composing lists of questions to send out to potential interview candidates. People about whom I want to know more...people who, for one reason or another, think it would be interesting to tell random strangers random things about themselves. I can't knock this, because I was one of those people. And it IS fun, answering the questions of random strangers...because if people know you a bit from your blog, you want to know if their perception of you is the same as it would be had they met you in person. You want to know how they see you, and what parts of your own world-view mesh more closely with theirs than they had previously considered. You also, if you're a blog-stalker like me, are just plain nosey and want to know what they have to say. :)

So...once I send out the questions this afternoon, I'll post up some links of the folks I've sent them too...then we can all find out what people think about random shiznit.

***
THE WEEK IN REVIEW:

Monday: typical. Team meeting. Birthday cake. Good times.
Tuesday: typical. Two team meetings. Birthday cake. Some a-typical potential job-news. More on this later in the post.
Wednesday: typical.
Thursday: gym. Beer. Good times at beer.
Friday: dull. went bowling with Steven. Interesting 'sport' is bowling.
Saturday: haircut. dull. stayed in like a good little poor-person.
Sunday: Mother's day. Have not yet telephoned my mother. I suck, I know.

THE WEEK IN REVIEW IN DETAIL:

Monday-- usual kind of day. Except that our DM attended our team meeting on Monday night. I managed to tell him he was rude in front of a room filled with impressionable underlings. Not such a good career move, I'm thinking. Oopsie.

Tuesday-- usual kind of day. Team meeting early in the morning, and late in the afternoon. Was sung to by a herd of burly truck-drivers at 6:45 am. What a great way to start the day! Late afternoon, Job-news.* Then, birthday cake, more bad singing. Overall, a pretty good day.

Wednesday-- typical.

Thursday-- work. Gym. (Make note that this is the only time this week that the word 'Gym' appears in a post. Feel free to beat me with soggy pool-noodles. I need to do better at this!) Thirstday beer.**

**Notes on Thirstday:

A while back, at a party, I met a lovely girl with the same name as me. (Wait a minute! Just how many Sadie's ARE there in Halifax, you ask?! Lots, apparently.) She is a lovely girl, and she happens to, along with her husband, own a boat. This is a sailing boat. She races this boat. In races. This year, she is putting together an all-girls racing team to sail the boat. And she asked me to sail with her! She didn't care that I don't know how! Nor that I've only been on a boat 3 times in my life! She cared only that I am strong (relatively), I can swim (more or less), and that I am prepared to risk life and limb to learn a new and fun skill! But...this was a 'you should sail with us!' invitation, issued at a party where beverages were being imbibed. It was about as solid as a 'we'll do lunch!' Except that she seemed sincere. And mentioned it about 50 times. So I got excited.

Steven gave her husband my name and phone number, and I commenced waiting and hoping. Nothing happened for several weeks. Then Steven mentioned to me that Rob (the hubby) had asked for my info again, as he had misplaced it and his Sadie was asking for it. This gave me hope, just as I'd let go of my last glimmer. I, once again, got excited about the prospect of sailing this summer.

And then...nothing.

More nothing.

Even more nothing.

I abandoned all hope. I consoled myself with the thought that I wouldn't have been able to get the night off all summer anyway, so it was better this way. That, and I'd fallen off the Gym bandwagon, and my strength was questionable at best anyhow.

Until Thirstday. *BEAM* I came home to a message on my machine telling me all about it, and asking if I were still interested, and mentioning a women's sailing course that she'd like all the girls to take together, particularly since none of us really knew one another. FUN! I'm so excited it's ridiculous. I get to go sailing!

Thirstday night was fun too. I headed down to the Corner about 9:45, as Billy was meeting me there. (Aside: He got to go sailing this past Thursday, as a buddy from work has a boat and he was putting it in the water for the first time this year. I was looking for reassurance, and got it. He had a blast. I'm SOOOO looking forward to this summer!) I sat at the bar to order my beer, and Terry crept up on my left.

Something you may not know about me, is that I'm a jumper. I can see you standing there, but if I am distracted, otherwise focussed, or just not expecting you to speak? I will jump in terror, and possibly shriek, when you speak to me. I can't do a thing about this. I've tried, as it is so incongruous with my otherwise unflappable character, but to no avail. Consider yourselves forewarned.

So Terry crept up on my left, and said something irritating. I jumped and let out a small shriek. I may or may not have called him an insensitive bastard. He apologized, but seemed pleased to have gotten some sort of physical reaction from me.

He then proceeded to attach himself to me. He spit on me no less than 3 times, and touched me a minimum of 10. He kept touching my arm, and my shoulder, and once...horrifyingly...my back. I kept inching away from him. He's a creepy old man. The first time we met, I thought he was alright. Harmless enough, lonely, but alright. He has proceeded to become creepier and creepier as time goes by.

When I'm on my own, he flirts up a storm in hopes that I'm going to come to my senses and agree to go out on a date with him. (For the record? This will NEVER happen.) When Bill's there? He's much more respectful in terms of keeping his distance. He makes a point of trying to be Bill's friend, and ignoring me...more or less. The last couple of times? He's acted like an 8 year old boy...being mean to me, and rather rude. Last week Bill wanted to punch him in the face. This week? I wanted to. Bill *did* pour beer on T's leg when T tried to block our path to a seat--AWAY FROM HIM. I said 'excuse us' a couple of times...Bill said 'please move so we can get past'. Terry thought it was a game--and kept his foot up like a bridge. So Bill poured beer on his leg. Yes, juvenile...but sometimes you have to play by the rules that have been set in place already.

Terry later attempted to stick something in Bill's beer. I politely (barely) explained that it would not be a wise course of action, and that I would appreciate it very much if he would kindly step off and leave us be. I'm soooo curt and polite when I'm really angry. Bill was somewhat taken aback by how cool and calm my voice was, when he knew exactly how annoyed I was. It was entertaining.

But other than that minor sideshow, the evening was fun.

Friday I went bowling with Steven for a fundraising event for the local 5-pin bowling club. (I'm sure they have a fancier name...but it's bowling, and I really can't get that excited about it.) It was fun. It was held on the base, and was by far the nicest bowling alley I think I've ever been in. Did you KNOW there was a bowling alley on the base? That you and I, the Canadian taxpayer*, subsidize in its entirety? (*Fine, so I haven't actually submitted my taxes in a while...they still deduct them from my paycheque--so I DO pay them, I do, I do, I swear I do!) It's nice. It's clean. They have 6 lanes. If you like bowling, you should go there. If you don't like bowling, I'd skip it. It's not nice enough to convince me to START bowling. Although several people repeatedly encouraged me to join a mixed-league. They also seemed to think that Steven and I were dating, so they're a little delusional, these bowlers.

I won a carton of chewing gum, and a frisbee. I consider it to be a grand success, this foray into the world of bowling. I am even sore. Two days later, my legs are still sore. What-up with that?! Bleh. Does not bode well for softball!

Yesterday was Saturday. My usual hairdresser is in Europe for 3 weeks, and I was desperate for a trim. One of the guys I work with has a wife who's a hairdresser at a discount hair salon. I used to get my hair cut at the discount places allll the time when it was long, and needed only to be cut in a straight line. Once I cut it off into a short cut though, I decided it was worth paying big-bucks to have it looked after by someone who engendered a bit more trust.

I found the hairdresser I loved when I lived in Rothesay. She's the one who actually did the deed and chopped off my Rapunzel-like tresses into a scalpingly short pixie cut. I loved it, and I loved her. She did a fabulous job, and I trusted her. She even used to mock me because I went in so frequently for trims.

When I moved back here to Halifax, I was scared. I went, once, to the place recommended by my Rothesay stylist. The girl did an okay job on my hair (it was alright, but I didn't actually LIKE it) but I wasn't really fond of her, and couldn't see myself going back every 3 weeks for a visit. I started asking around for suggestions and recommendations.

I then remembered that a girl who had worked for me in the past, had since become a stylist. I figured 'If I'm going to pay someone, it should be someone I know'...so I went to see her. And Michelle is awesome. She's pricey (for me, anything over $25 is Ex-Pen-Sive) - it costs me $35+tax and tip - but I love her, and I love what she does to my hair. She's ALWAYS booked solid, so you need to make an appointment in advance, or hope for a cancellation, but she's worth it.

But Michelle is currently in Europe. And my hair was unruly. And not in a good way.

So I went to the discount hair-shop. And it was okay. They didn't wash my hair. There was no fantabulous scalp massage. The cut itself was a bit rough on my scalp, when she razored it, it pulled and almost hurt. She cut off more hair than I wanted her to. But it looks fantastic. I LOVE IT. And it cost me $11.49 + tax. That's $13.10 people. My usual cut costs me $45. I tipped 50% (just call me Mrs.Rockefeller) and still saved money.

But now I'm scared to go back to Michelle. I have to wait until this grows in a fair bit before I can go to Michelle--because I wanted Michelle's next cut to be a pixie--and this is far too close to that to give her anything to work with. But man...in the meantime? And for less than $20? This haircut rocks the Casbah.

I didn't go out last night, even though I saved so much on my haircut because a) nobody was around, and b) the bank took out an extra car payment at random and I'm afraid of being homeless.

Today is Mother's Day. I need to go to the store and pick up a long distance card so I can do that. I also have to call Tracey back as she called me last night from Calgary. She wasn't liking it so much, from the sounds of it. I missed the phone, and just got the voice mail. I miss her a lot. I didn't know I was going to miss her this much--it's funny how some people become so very important to you during certain periods of your life.

Anyway...I'm out of here to enjoy some sunshine, get a long distance card, bake a pie, and call my mother. I'll fill you in on the possible job news later on tonight.

Happy Sunday, folks! :)

Tuesday's Tirade--

I was reading what Badgerdaddy had to say tonight, and it led me to THIS. Which is a rant I was going to save for another day, but you get it now. Lucky you.

Who in their right fucking mind goes out to dinner and leaves a 3 (nearly 4!) year old and twin 2 year old babies alone in an hotel room? WHO? Nobody, that's who. Only fucking crazy-people.

And upon doing so, (leaving one's wee-infant children alone in an hotel room while one goes out to dinner) who on earth would then blame the POLICE for not doing enough to find and protect their missing child? MORONS, that's who.

Apparently children are a lot easier to come by than I had previously believed. They're so easy to come by, in fact, that they're pretty much disposable. If it's inconvenient to look after them, or to even utilize the child-minding service provided by the hotel, just leave them alone in the room. SAY that you checked on them every half-hour to make sure they were alright, but then don't ACTUALLY check on them and notice they're missing for at least 60 minutes.

The only problem with parenthood so far as I can see it? Is that any moron can do it. You have to have a license to have a dog, but you have to have no such permits for a child. AND, there's no limit on the number of children you can have! Heck, here in Canada, we actually PAY you to have babies! The more the merrier!

I'd be spouting off about 'survival of the fittest', except that it's not the child's fault her parents are imbeciles. It is, however, the child's problem that she's missing. It's not the child's fault that she is nowhere to be found...even if she wandered off (highly unlikely at this point in time), SHE IS THREE YEARS OLD. Three year olds are generally not known for either their good judgement, or for their unerring sense of direction. The poor child is the one that is missing her parents. The poor child is the one that doesn't know where she is. The poor child is the one that is currently spending time in the company of strangers. Make that STRANGERS. And folks, strangers are CREEPY.

These people do NOT deserve to have children. If I were in charge, I'd arrange to have their other two children removed into custody and adopted out to parents who WANT them and can be bothered to look after them properly.

***
And speaking of people who piss me off. (yes, yes we were. And we will continue to do so. Suck it up or step off. Your choice.)

Tonight on my way to Gaelic, I stopped for coffee. I park on one side of the busy, busy street and walk across to the coffee shop. It's a difficult street to cross on foot, but near impossible to do so in a car. I was (not-so) patiently waiting at the crosswalk to go back to my car, making googly eyes at some stranger's baby the whole while.

Cars where whizzing past at relatively break-neck speeds. It's rush-hour in the downtown core. People are trying to get out to the burbs, wanting to get to their dinners, and their soccer practices, and their swimming lessons. They are in a rush.

One over-sized vehicle went past and it gave me pause. It was weaving around on the single-lane thoroughfare as it passed. I quickly looked over at the small child and the couple standing next to me, wanting to be sure they were well back from the edge of the road. The car was wandering that much that I was worried for the safety of these strangers and their baby.

Looking at the woman driving the car I noted the following things:

Item the first: She was leaning into the passenger's side fishing for something with one arm.

Item the second: She had two young girls in the back seats of the SUV.

Item the third: The young girls DID appear to be wearing seat belts, but each had an over-sized ice cream cone, and one was balancing an extraordinarily large sleeve of what appeared to be caramel corn between the hump and the ceiling. She was stretched out of her car seat, and looked precarious.

Item the fourth: The woman was using her spare hand to drink a coffee.

And finally, item the fifth: She was using her OTHER spare hand to clamp her cellular telephone to her ear while she yammered into said telephone.

WHAT THE FUCK?

Not only was she endangering her OWN children, but me, my neighbour couple, and THEIR child too.

Come on now people...put down the fucking phones. Do what cars were intended for. DRIVE. Do not use your car as a mobile meal centre or a portable beverage dispenser. And it is certainly not a traveling telephone booth. Concentrate on one thing. Getting yourself (and your loved ones) safely from point A to point B.

I'm tired, so that's it for now. Sorry, I'm not going to edit. That's just the way it is with me...Rant and run.

Lots tomorrow from work...I may have some news soon. And I may not. But I'll fill you in then. Goodnight.

Interview me-me-me-me!

So in the spirit of a twisted Meme, the CF sent me these interview questions last Tuesday. But since I'm a slowpoke, you just now get some replies. I'll do my best to make sure that the replies are logical…but I can't vouch for their accuracy! You've been warned.

1. if you could only be remembered for one thing, what would you like it to be?

I'd like it to be for my friendly personality, and my kind nature. I don't know if either of these things are true, but I'd really like them to be. People do often accuse me of being too cheery, perky, or chipper. I'm also often accused of being polite and thoughtful. Accursed disposition. (Thanks to my parents, because I couldn't be any other way even if I tried.)

Heck, if we're getting down to what I'd LIKE? I'd really like to be remembered as graceful. Nobody has ever, in my entire life, used the word graceful to describe me. And I'd like that.

2. what is the one memory that truly makes you squirm?

I don't know if I've got a specific memory that makes me squirm. I have a VERY short memory, so if I don't write it down, it didn't happen. This is a good thing, because quite often I can blot out memories that are less than stellar.

I think that for me, personal confrontation is the one thing I dislike more than anything. And not just interacting with people, but with things pertaining to my own private life. I deal with confrontation for a living, so I'm good at it. I'm very good at diffusing tense situations and dealing with problems face-on--Unless they're MY problems. Then I avoid them, and do everything humanly possible to evade having to discuss them. So I'd have to say that my squirmiest memories are all to do with the demise of doomed relationships. I HATE-HATE-HATE having to 'have a talk'. I HATE having to bring things up that are bothering me, or things that need to be 'dealt with'. I don't like the awkwardness of feeling exposed and emotionally vulnerable. I don't like having to give up the power and control that is necessary to resolve relationship issues.

3. if five of your closest friends were each asked to describe you in one word, what would those five words be?

I don't honestly know if I've even GOT 5 close friends. I have a ton of acquaintances…and a lot of people who consider ME to be a close friend…but I don't know if I have 5 people I consider that close.

Friendly. Forgetful. Smart. Efficient. BUSY.

4. if you could tell any one person a particular thing, what would that thing be? include the person if you want

I generally DO tell people things. Except when I'm avoiding confrontation. But. I'd tell one of my co-workers to stop projecting his emotions onto me. I'd tell him that I'm never going to date him, and he needs to stop thinking that it's ever going to be a possibility. I'd tell the snarky busy-body at work that she's an evil cow, nobody likes her, and she's really bad at her job. I'd tell random people a lot more often that I care about them, and that I love them. I'd tell my family about my secrets. I'd tell my dad I'm disappointed in how he's treated my mother. I'd tell my mother I'm disappointed that she lets him treat her that way. I'd tell myself to smarten the hell up and do something with my life NOW, because you don't get that many more tomorrows. Mostly? The last one. I'd tell myself, if I thought that I'd listen.

5. what draws you back to any particular blog?

The stories. I love stories. I'm an innately nosey person. I want to know what's going on in your life. I want to know what you had for supper. I want to know how you dealt with your ex-boyfriend and his new girlfriend when you bumped into them at the grocery store. I want to know about your pretty new shoes. I want to know how you manage, time after time, to be so damned FUNNY. I wish I was that funny, witty, clever, INTERESTING. You all keep me coming back.

If you're interested in being 'interviewed', drop me a line in the comment box and I'll try to come up with 5 unique questions for you to answer. Thanks very much to the Copasetic Fish for this little bit of fun. I really enjoyed it. Almost as much as I enjoy reading about all of you!

---

Update continued :)

Tuesday was Gaelic, and it was a riot as usual. I didn't ignore Billy like the previous two weeks. We chatted during break, and laughed at the shared jokes, same as always. It was nice.

He had offered to give me his old printer, because he got a new one with the new computer. This was a really REALLY nice thing to do, and I appreciated it very much. So after class, we walked outside together (very unusual) and he gave me the printer and a bag of goodies—toner, the drivers, and a CD he'd made filled with Silly Wizard tunes. It was a great present. He wished me a Happy Birthday, and I went on home.

When I got home and was opening up the bag, I noticed an envelope. With a card in it. I was astounded. It may not seem like such an astonishing thing to you, but I happen to know that he's never purchased a card before in his life. It was particularly lovely to know that he'd gone to the effort of finding me a birthday card. It was also nice, as it was the only card I got this year. (Except an AWESOME e-greeting from Christine, and a rather lame notecard from my mother.)

Again—I'm working my way through to not being so angry.

Wednesday was my birthday, and I was off work. I didn't have any serious plans during the day, and nothing really planned for the evening either. I had no cash, so there was no serious carousing being planned. Also, all my girlfriends are still either knocked up, or paired up. That leaves the pickings for 'going out' friends rather slim. Steven, bless him, invited me out for beer. We went to the gym together (and ignored one another the whole time—perfect!) and then out for drinks and nachos at Finbar's. It was a really nice evening. He is a good sport, because he was exhausted and did it on purpose so that I wouldn't be home by myself on my birthday. He's a good egg, that Steven.

I had a rather melancholy day for my birthday, but the evening was lovely—and I appreciate all of you stopping in to say hello. Mike's a lovely fellow, even if he's a bit demanding of his readership! ;) Thanks, Mike, it was great!

Thursday was a cheery day. I worked during the day, and it was nice to have the well-wishes from the folks at work. One of my departments got together and bought me a lovely cyclamen plant, and gave me a nice card. It was highly unexpected, as we tend to not do things like that at the store. With 200 people, it's important to not get into the endless cycle of gifting and guilt. But I appreciated the gesture VERY much.

Thirstday night, I went for drinks. Bill and I met at the pub, which seems to be a good way for us to get there. We always stand outside a bit too long, talking instead of getting into our respective cars, but it's still quicker than me dropping him off and us sitting in the parking lot for half an hour while we chat some more. It was a nice time, and only a little bit awkward. I think we're well on our way to being able to pull this off.

(Man, these last two updates are crazy long. It's almost as though I actually have a life!!!)

(One of these days, I'll actually be caught up, and you can then have a post about actual STUFF instead of just 'stuff I did this week'…won't that be exciting? Yeah, you're right…probably not.)

Friday? I was tired. I closed. I was beat. I had to rest up for last night. I stayed in, read my book, read some blogs, and did some dishes. An exciting Friday night, all around!

Last night was our pub crawl at work. Now, our company is rather conservative, and we do not officially endorse these events. We don't even let the folks put up a poster or indicate what the 'social function' is that's being planned. Can everyone say 'uptight'? I knew that you could.

I never 'GO' on the pub crawls. I DO manage to always bump into a whole lot of people that I work with when I'm downtown that night. I don't know how it happens that I end up at the same bars, at the same times that a herd of people in matching t-shirts shows up too…but it always works out that way. Boggles the mind, really. I never imbibe on the crawls though, because in addition to being uptight, we're a very political company, and I still want another promotion or three. I like to go, because I like being invited. I'm the only manager that gets invited, and I like that…makes me the cool one. I think it's kinda like being the 'cool parent'. Not necessarily the best thing, but it sure feels good. I also like to see who's making a complete ass of themselves, who's smooching whom, and who's going to call in sick tomorrow. I'm all evil like that.

The crawl turned out fairly small, about 40 shirts sold, and about half were 'friends' and not associates. I invited Steve to come with me, so that when I had to bail on the crawl, I'd still have somebody to hang out with. Also, I wouldn't look like such a loser standing there by myself at the bar. He invited Duffy, so it was going to be fun.

After work (I closed again) I changed quickly, and drove downtown to Duffy's. His girlfriend, two of their male friends, and one of their girlfriends came with us, so there were 7 of us altogether. Fun times. We got to the Pogue around 10:45pm, just as the crawlers were finishing up to move on to Bubble's Mansion. I saw a few friends, chatted, got some gossip, and then spent the rest of the night with Steve and Duffy's crowd. We had a great time. I didn't intend to drink, and I didn't. Good times though, the band was fantastic, and the group we were with was fun.

We stayed until the end (2-ish) then went for food. After that, I drove Steve home and went home myself. I then got online. Yes, I'm an idiot. I had to work this morning at 8, but got online at 4 am. Dumb, dumb, dumb. However, fun.

Anyway…that was my weekend so far. Except that work has been a rather long day, as I'm freaking EXHAUSTED. It serves me right, really. I'm a hundred and seventy-billion years old now, and I can't keep up like I could back when I was young (last week).

There's another 2.5 hours at work to get through. I should go to the gym after, but I think I'm going home instead to do laundry, vacuum, and NAP. I'm really learning to appreciate the art of the nap as I get older. When I was younger, mum would go off for a nap, and I couldn't understand it. I couldn't grasp how anyone could willingly take a chunk out of their waking hours and waste it on something as mundane as sleep. But now? Now I get it, because there comes a point every now and again where my body just ceases to function normally. My body goes into crisis shutdown mode, and things stop working. My thoughts are muddled, my hand-eye coordination is wonky, and even my ability to string together a cohesive sentence is impaired. (Yes, I know, some of you would argue I can't string together a sentence at the best of times—I agree!)

Anyway…that's it for this post.

The Copasetic Fish sent me some interview questions last week, so I'll likely try to reply to those later tonight. I didn't find them in my in-box until a couple of days ago, so I apologize for the delay. But doesn't anticipation make it that much more worthwhile? No? Fine then. Be that way. But until later? No answers for you!

Happy Sunday afternoon.

FW: Remote posting

So here I am at work, and I've got a little bit of time on my hands. I never know exactly how MUCH time I'm going to have, but a little bit is a good time to start a post.

Last week was an interesting departure from the last two weeks.

Last Thursday, as you recall, was the first Thirstday I've spent home in about 6 months…and it stank like a rotting corpse. Or like rotten milk which has burst its jug and left gooey, stanky milk juice all over the floor of your dining room while you were at work. And that the juice has taken you 4 days to clean up thoroughly, and the stench is STILL not gone…even though you've used Windex™, SprayNine™, MrClean™ and BLEACH (not all at once, I don't want to blow the place up, just make it un-stankified). Not that I'd know anything about a stench as pervasive as that…nope, not me. I wouldn't leave a jug of expired milk down by the recycling so long that it exploded. Well, not twice anyway, now that I know what happens. But I digress.

Anyway…Thirstday last week was Billy's birthday as well, which made it double sucky, because I didn't know where they'd end up, and I didn't want to accidentally bump into them. I was of the mindset at that point, that I didn't even want to talk to him. I was still angry (still AM) and hurt, and didn't want to be friends…even though it made me sad and lonely to think that.

I went out on Friday night last week, to the Old Triangle. I had a good time…I danced with an old man, I chatted with the guy sitting next to me. I enjoyed being out, even though I was out by myself. I feel safe there, so I don't mind going on my own.

I don't remember what I did Saturday night, and I'm at work without benefit of my calendar—so you'll have to assume it was something interesting. It may not have been (unlikely to have been, in fact) but them's the breaks. Use your imagination. ** HEY! Here's a challenge for you! Write me a story, if you like, about the fun hi-jinks I got up to. J You can win my undying gratitude and effervescent laughter if your story is better than someone else's. No real prizes, because I'm poor…but I'll laugh loudly, and post them here, complete with track-backs and hot-links. You know you waaaaanna. **

I know that I did spend a lot of time thinking about what I wanted from my current life, and where I am in terms of my friendships and my familial relationships. I have been spending a lot of time thinking about this stuff for the last two weeks, actually. And something that keeps coming back to me is the idea that "if I were diagnosed with something terminal tomorrow, would I do things differently?" Would the people I love KNOW it? And would I be more willing to tell the people I care about that I do, indeed, love them? Would I waste my time and energy being angry and resentful, or would I learn to call a spade a spade? Would I be more vocal in my dissent, or would I take more in stride and categorize it as unimportant.

It was with this in mind that I decided I still wanted to be friends with Billy. (There's a lot of stuff left over from our breakup that I need to fill you in on some time, but it's not going to be today. Suffice to say, there's three sides to every story, and you've only heard a part of one side. But—it's still a big step to try and be his friend. I don't do so well with betrayal—I'm unused to it, and it's the one thing I find relatively unforgivable. I'd do better forgiving murder than betrayal. But that's me.)

But I made a conscious decision, that if I found out tomorrow that I was dying, I wouldn't want to NOT be his friend. I wouldn't want to NOT call him up and tell him, and I know that he was upset about me cutting him out completely. So I decided to stop working so hard at cutting him out, and work hard at allowing him back in—in baby steps.

So Sunday was not a bad day. I slept late, but decided to go and do something for me. I decided I'd go to Peggy's Cove and play on the rocks. So I also did something that I haven't done in weeks…I IM'd bill. And I IM'd first. I'd been making a point of not starting conversations. I would reply if he said something, but I tried to give short answers, and I tried to not get really involved in anything—and definitely not ask many questions. So I IM'd him. This was not lost on him, and he responded quite eagerly.

I mentioned my plan to go to Peggy's Cove, and invited him to come along if he were so inclined. He seemed pleased, but asked when I was going, as he'd just put a chicken in the oven. I asked how long until his dinner was done…he said an hour? So I said I had some stuff to do, and could put it off that long. So I went and folded some laundry, we kept chatting intermittently on MSN. About an hour and a half later, I said "I'm heading out soon, are you still coming with?"

"I'm going to stay in. I'm overtired and am getting a bit of a headache."

I was pissed.

"Oh. K. See you." And I disconnected. I could see him typing something, but I disconnected. I didn't want to hear it. I was pissed off. I'd offered an olive branch, which had been accepted, but then, after I waited around for over an hour, the branch was used to poke me in the eye. Anger ensued. Buddy couldn't have mentioned some time in the last hour and a half that he was getting a headache?! Yeah. Inconsiderate.

Yeah. But then I talked to myself for a bit…"He doesn't owe you anything. You're not dating. You said you had stuff to do while the chicken cooked. Perhaps he wasn't aware that you were WAITING explicitly for him. You should not be so pissy about something so trivial."

So I put on my coat and shoes, and just before I left the house, I logged back in to MSN. "Hey, did you still want these beer bottles? (He brews his own) I can drop them off while I'm out if you'd like."

He did. "…but you're losing daylight time. I can pick them up later tonight if you want."

"Whatever you like."

"I'll pick them up later tonight."

...

So I had a lovely afternoon—didn't make it to Peggy's Cove, as it began to rain. But I hit the Dal Dump'n'Run garage sale, and got a big box of free books. Booty! It was great. I had a lovely drive around, and a fantastic 2 hours at the gym.

I then went home to cook and bake. Bill was melancholy on MSN, a touch of the Sunday blues, so I invited him to come in for banana bread and tea when he came for the bottles.

We had a lovely visit. It was a bit stiff, but not so bad. I worked at it. He worked at it.

As he was leaving, he mentioned that he was really glad that I'd spoken to him that afternoon, and that he was glad I'd invited him in. I told him I'd made a decision to be a friend and was working toward that end.

It was a very pleasant evening.

I was going to tell you about Gaelic on Tuesday, and my birthday on Wednesday, but I have now officially run out of time. I'm going on a pub crawl after work (in 15 minutes!) and won't be able to finish tonight. But I'll find some time tomorrow, if not at work then after, and I'll get you all caught up to date.

Oh Sweet Jesus...

...this is funny.

I'm SO going to Hell. But everywhere I turn this week, there's just so much beautiful blasphemy! Waiting to be shared!

Enjoy. :) Real post in the morning.

Hmm...

...that post seemed a bit negative. It wasn't intended to be at all...just pensive. :) It's a sunny day out, and I'm going to go enjoy some of it. :)

Happy day to me. :)

Once I was the King of Spain...

Getting old stinks.

I grew up under the delusion that life was supposed to be simple and easy. That relationships just happen, and that when it's right? You'll know it. Gee...thanks, Mom.

You know, something that I've been considering a lot lately, following the demise of my 'relationship' with Billy, is how we all operate under the assumption that it's supposed to be Easy to find your Someone, fall in love with them, and live happily ever after.

And it's sooooo not easy.

I have been considering how difficult it is for me, who is a moderately attractive looking, smart, fairly together, heterosexual woman, without any major visible hang-ups or fetishes. Imagine how much MORE difficult it must be for people with personality disorders, self-esteem issues, crushing phobias, people who are gay, people who are physically challenged, people who are ugly, and arseholes? And yet...they all seem to find THEIR Someone. Perhaps I expect too much?

Who's to say? I know that I have been fortunate in my life to be loved by some incredible men. Men who have been brave, and bold, and forthcoming with their emotions. And yet, for one reason or another, they haven't been my Someone. I, instead, choose to yearn for people who are quiet, and reserved, and emotionally unavailable. I lust for the magazine-pretty men I see on the street, and yet become involved with the intellectually stimulating, more 'normal' looking man of substance. (Mmmm...is there anything so sexy as a clever man that can DO stuff? Sorry, back to the ramble.)

In a previous post, I said that I'd talk another time about comments made to me by the Saskatchewanian stranger (K) at the Split Crow a few weeks ago. He was a very nice man. He and his business partner were in town installing some sort of computer system or another. He was fairly attractive, and quite pleasant to talk to. His partner (D) was a bit of an ass, but an entertaining one, so it was nice to talk with them.

D was bold, and annoying. He clued in first that Bill and I were together, although I had done nothing to conceal the fact. I had not been encouraging of D's advances, and had actually been rather DIScouraging. K was more reserved, but was also flirting slightly. He got it much sooner, though, that I wasn't interested in anything more than conversation. He was fine with it.

So...D looked at Billy, and then at me. He said, quite loudly..."What? Are you kidding me? You can't honestly be telling me you're going home with HIM?!" I nearly choked. I couldn't believe how rude he was.

I said, "Um...YES. I came here with him, and I fully intend to leave with him."

"Is that what you do here in Nova Scotia? Slum?"

I was horrified. A)--because I'd never heard someone be so blatantly ignorant, and B)--because it was so drastically far from the truth. I mean, I know that it was envy speaking, but even still...it was an horrible thing to say. (For the record, I quite enjoy looking at Billy. He's tall, and strong, and rugged looking. He's smart, and sexy, and has a really great smile when he uses it. You should date him, he's a fantastic fellow.)

"I BEG YOUR PARDON?!"

"You heard me. He's so not in your league it's ridiculous. Why are you slumming?"

I said, "I don't know what you're talking about, but you're a VERY rude man." And I turned back to the bar and my drink. I chatted with Scoot, and with K, and with Kelley (the hotel-inspector from T.O.) and tried to forget how ignorant D had been.

The part of this story that I was getting to...is when K said something to me that made me think.

Please don't think that I'm some egotistical, self-absorbed woman who thinks she's all that...because I'm certainly not. I know that I don't look like I got hit in the face with a shovel, but I am pretty average, so far as I can tell. I've been fortunate (or not, depends on your perspective) to get more than my share of male attention in my life...and still do, for the most part. I believe it's because I'm friendly, and I smile a lot. I tend to be friendly, yet discouraging, at bars. I don't want to have to come out and SAY "Thanks, but no. You're annoying me, please go away now." I will if necessary, but I don't like having to, so I tend to put up The Wall in advance. Only the most daring (foolhardy?) of men usually approach The Wall. (Yes, I'm fully aware that this may be the very reason that I'm still single. More on this at a later date.)

So...a bit later, K said to me..."I'm just going to come out and ask this, because I've always wanted to know. What's it like to be a girl like you?"

He said it straight-faced, and with a curiousity that bespoke sincere desire to Know something. I was taken aback. I spluttered a little, and said, "Umm....'a girl like me'?! What on earth are you talking about?"

"You know what I mean. You get attention from men, you know that they're looking at you, and that you could get whatever you want. Do you like to just toy with guys like me, or what do you do?"

"*boggle* Um...I would certainly hope that you don't think I was 'toying with you'?!"

"No, no....you weren't. But you could, and I want to know."

"Um...thanks, I think. That's possibly a nice thing for you to say? I guess I know what you mean, but...um..." Taking a big swig from my beer and trying to figure out exactly where to go with the answer, I replied "I know what you mean, but I don't think it quite applies to me. Because I think that it's an horrible thing to 'toy' with people. I think that, as a girl, you have a responsibility to be careful of other people's feelings and emotions. I, personally, try to always be aware of a situation and work hard to make sure that I'm not being misleading or intentionally cruel."

And that's the truth. I build The Wall so that I don't have to worry quite so much. I am generally very socially perceptive. I am painfully aware whenever some boy begins to have feelings for me. I am VERY seldom wrong in my perceptions. (for an example of just how wrong I can be when I *am* wrong, read all about my most recent doomed relationship) And it's true...I DO feel that women have a responsibility to look out for men and their emotions.

I have never accepted a free drink in my life.

I know dozens of women who go to the bar with $10 in their pocket, and go home loaded--having beveraged all night on someone else's dime. I, on the other hand, pride myself on being self-sufficient. I also take pride in not using people. I have a huge sense of obligation and guilt, and I wouldn't want to feel beholden to anyone I just met for anything at all--even something so simple as a drink. I don't want to feel obligated to make conversation with you, simply because you spent $5 on my beer. If I'm talking to you? It's because I'm interested in what you have to say. Either that, or I'm too polite to tell you to Fuck Off because you haven't been QUITE that offensive yet.

[Hell, if I was into using people, I'd have waited a few days to talk to Bill and then allowed him to mend my car like he was going to. Stupid, stupid, stupid. That's me. :) ]

Anyway...my answer seemed to make K happy...but it got me thinking. And I haven't been able to stop ever since.

I really don't think I'm anything special. I mean, I'm okay looking. And I'm average sized--not too tubby, not too skinny. I've got a rather large set of boobs--which I generally work hard at concealing. People (even other women!) are astonished when they discover how large my breasts actually are. I'm not flashy in my dress--conservative at best. I strive for business chic when I dress up, and generally pull it off...but I work in a hardware store, so I don't get to do that very often these days. In general, it's jeans and a t-shirt. Occasionally a blouse. So I'm not Patty-Provocative. I DO smile a lot. I am genuinely interested in what people have to say. I like to meet new people. Maybe this is the reason I get attention.

But how does this translate into a relationship? Why do I keep getting involved with people who choose, for one reason or antoher, to stay removed from the partnership? I don't know how to take down The Wall. I'm GREAT at sending out the 'fuck off, I'm not interested' vibe, but I haven't got a clue how to exude 'hey, you're cute...wanna?' I'm working at it...which is why I've gotten so blatantly verbal about what I want and what I need in a relationship. But how to get from point A to point C? I honestly haven't a clue.

This whole post is nothing but a big ramble, but I've been Thinking a lot lately, and Thinking always gets me into trouble.

I've been thinking about relationships, because of the demise of the most recent one. I am still ANGRY, but I'm pretty much over the emotionally crushing part. Which goes to prove that it was probably (Yeah, yeah...definitely) not really such a big deal after all. I mean, I DO love him, but he's my best friend, so I should. And we had sex, which..whatever. It's sex. I think we both just wanted to be in a relationship, and turned a genuine affection for one another into something that it shouldn't be. But...yeah. Still hurt and angry. Oh BOY am I angry. But I'm working on that. :)

I'm not so good with anger, apparently. :)

What was my point? Not a clue. Except that Relationship Stuff is never simple. I don't meet people at work. I am long since done school. I tried the online thing, and I have no intention of going back--I don't have the energy to waste on men I don't like. That, and it's not fair to them for me to judge the second that I meet them that I don't even want to be their friend, let alone anything more.

So Mum, thanks...I know you didn't mean to set an example of impossible expectation; that what you wanted was to teach us to never settle for second-best. But yikes. I don't think I'd know even Second-Best if it hit me in the head with a pool-noodle, let alone aspiring to greater things.

I've had great relationships, I know what they feel like, and how they can make you into a better, richer version of yourself. But God help me, I have no idea how to get there from here.