From the other side of the country. I made it, kitty made it. Actually, kitty did better than I did... Here's a little factoid about Bea and travel.
I am one of those rare people who ALWAYS requests an aisle seat when they travel by plane. Why? Well, for whatever reason, as soon as I wake up on the day that I am getting on a plane, my body knows and plots against me. I ask for aisle seats, not because I don't like to look out the window, but because I don't want to be "that" person. You know, the one who is constantly climbing over the other two people to go to the bathroom and times it just when they have fallen into a deep sleep. Yep, that's me when I am in the window seat. And so, as usual I request my aisle seat and get told that as I am traveling with a cat, I HAVE to take the window seat.
And that's when my body decided that not only was it going to shrink my bladder to the size of a grain of sand thus turning every drop of liquid that passed though my lips into little droplets of evil... but that it was also going to be turned into a temple... a temple dedicated to the God Gassius Methanus. All I am going to say is that my flight was NOT exactly the most fun one ever.
And now I am on a wee little island about to head into the village to plunk myself down at a little seaside cafe and let the creative juices flow. How much am I loving being on holiday? So much that to put it in writing would not do it justice.
Anyway, I've been making metal notes of various things that I have noticed. Observances if you will and I've been dying to put them down as reference for when and if I ever decide to pick up the pen and write a letter to the editor, mayor etc... I like to think of them as suggestions on how to make living in the big city better for EVERYONE. Here is one that comes up pretty much on a daily basis...
Some things should not be allowed on public transit during rush hour. Now, if anyone out there frequently uses mass transit to commute to and from work, regardless of what city you live in, I think you'll be able to relate. Here is a list of items/behaviours that make it very awkward for the rest of us to have a comfortable commute... which is practically impossible even under the best of circumstances: giant rolls of carpeting big enough to carpet your entire house, big dogs that bark, entire classrooms of students on field trips, bags of hockey equipment enough to outfit an entire team, anything sharp and pointy, eating McDonalds, a ghetto blaster cranked to the max with crappy rap music (or any other kind of music for that matter), people preaching openly about Jesus and about going to hell for your lack of enthusiasm and belief therein...
I have so many more but I feel I must away to the loft before I get caught up in snow drifts...
You know when you are supposedly interested in someone and you hang on their every word and actually give a care about what they are saying? Their thoughts, feelings, ideas, opinions etc...
Last night was kind of the opposite of that. Don't get me wrong, he is a nice guy... but I have to be honest and ask myself...
"Do I really want to hear another story about what it is like to be a night security guard at the Zoo?"
And the answer would be...
I'm kidding... sort of... not really. Actually, there are issues that run deeper than the fact that he isn't all that exciting and just won't challenge me like I need to be... fundamental issues that the two of us have spent the entire time skirting around, although we both know they are there. Issues such as one of us being a big fan of Bush... actually we are both fans of Bush although for me, being a fan of Bush entails the musical stylings of one adorable Gavin Rossdale as opposed to the president of our neighbours to the south... issues of one of us being for the war in Iraq, one against... pro-guns vs. anti-guns... pro-fundamental human rights vs. anti-fundamental human rights... you know, those sorts of happy little things.
Don't get me wrong, I am not looking for someone with the same opinions as me... as someone who loves to debate that would be awfully boring. But there are just some things that one cannot reconcile... also, I was kind of pissed that he didn't drive me home last week after our movie.
Yep, I'm a big baby.
I've not been up to a whole heck of a lot, hence the lack of postings for the past few days however... I have seemingly met someone who seemingly seems to be interested... or so it would seem. T'was my "keep in touch" fella who is doing an excellent job at keeping on touch. We went out again last week and will again go out tonight.
Normally, this would have yours truly all very excited etc... (because like omg... Bea on a second/third date???) but I just cannot find it. There are lots of reasons most of which make me sound like a horribly shallow person.
What can I say? He misrepresented what he does for a living, and now that I know the whole truth... meh... whatever. And don't get me started on the plethora of model police cruisers he has strategically placed all around his apartment...
So I guess I like him enough to want to see him again... but if pressed to actually start something more serious? Let's just say that I am pretty sure that I know exactly how the former-PNB felt about me about the same time last year. Kind of weird the shoe being on the other foot. I don't like it. I prefer my shoes to be on the same foot that they were designed for, as opposed to walking all duck-footed.
Anyway, you've got the update and now I must get back to work, for I leave this weekend for beautiful BC and some time with the fam. I fear that Christmas just will not be as much fun last year as my Mother has dis-invited my crazy uncle from this Christmas, as well as all future ones. T'is a pity really, because... call me crazy, but doesn't every family need a drunken uncle whose gifts consist of items stolen from construction sites and garbage dumpsters at their holiday celebration? I thought so...
i know u i thinki saw u last night in my dream i was sleep only 7 mint and u play ur role for 3 mint--lol
please ignore my english (lol
i m from here doing textile
i just move here from houston
i love hosue music in club
i m film student too
i had car accident that y i stop my study in these days hope fully i will start in jan
missreply me pls
i m not stupid to tell my storybut i feel stupid to sell myself
i m for sale
+ about 30 different emoticons
E-mail #2 (written about 2.5 seconds after I read the first one)
no plan for reply
i know usendme but ur msg missiissng
R U BAD GURL BCZ BAD GURL ALWAYS NO REPLY
I would like to mention here that I did respond to him after his last e-mail and politely explained that it is not unusual for people who are not interested to just simply not reply. I thanked him for his interest and wished him luck... what else could I do? I actually now believe that his car accident did more than just stop his studies. Poor guy.
On a happier note, although not necessarily a more eloquent one, I am meeting with Friday's Guy for dinner and a movie tomorrow... I know, it's a school night but alas, what one must do in the name of one's social life.
ps... A bummer about House eh? Stupid Billboard Music Awards...
Apparently I have become much more "blunt" in the past while so instead of spending countless hours of speculation on just what exactly "keep in touch" meant... was it a "I had a lot of fun and for sure we should go out again so make sure to keep in touch" keep in touch... or was it a "I really have no desire to ever want to go out again but I am going to say keep in touch because it is a heck of a lot nicer than saying that straight out" keep in touch?
I had to know... so I asked straight out... and pleasantly enough, the answer was the former... sort of... although a more formal response I could not possible have gotten. Think business reply email...
Dear Bea; (yes, semi-column was in there)
Thank you for your e-mail. As stated on Friday I am not really looking to get involved with someone right away but if I did meet someone and it went well, I might reconsider. That being said, I would like to see you again. Perhaps we can go to Office Depot and go pen shopping, or perhaps dinner and a movie where we might have some popcorn. I might get butter or I might not. I have not yet decided. As I stated on Friday, I am not much of a butter lover but on the right bucket of popcorn, say, if it were freshly popped, I might reconsider. Keep in touch.
Ok, so he did no suggest pen shopping, but it was kind of a weird email. Speaking of weird emails, Molly got this little gem the other day on that crazy ass free dating site:
hi this is me from hill
i read ur profle is nice
b4 u read my mail please ignore my english--lol
i just move here from houston
i start my textile bussienss here
i m film student too
i trance and house
and u i had a car accident that y i stop my studyin these days
i m looking nice and decent lady here--r u ?
may i knowu ?
I tried to tell her NOT to go out with him... but she just would not listen...she's a sucker for poor grammar and nonsensical ramblings. She'd have to be... she puts up with me after all.
Also, is there another Houston... like say, Houston, Turkey... or Houston, Poland? Houston, Mars? Just wondering.
I had spent a good portion of the morning going between actually working and writing a post that was triggered by a dream about a certain someone who has disappeared from my life in recent months and mused over whether or not it was because of a little kiss that took place one night after probably one too many beers and that maybe he got freaked out and thought I was going to start liking him again... or something silly like that. I finished it and had to rush off to a meeting before I could post... when I came back to my desk an hour later, my computer had mysteriously closed the page and I lost the entire thing. Oddly enough, nothing else I had open was closed. I took that as a sign that posting it was not meant to be and I won't rewrite it. The Universe's way of telling me to shut the hell up I suppose...
Funny how things like work.
So today you can blame the Universe, a conference call, the internet and the 2006 Olympic Winter Games for another lameass posting... Go ahead, I have.
Friday Night... nothing happened.
Saturday day... had date with mini-english history soccer dude. We went to the Catherine the Great exhibit at the AGO which was cool. Conclusion #1 ... 5'8" is very little when you are used to dating guys who are 6'3" +. Conclusion #2... Must stop dating guys strictly because they could be characters from some silly British sitcom... The whole day was so inconsequential to my life that it hardy seemed worth mentioning save for in a blog about nothing happening.
Saturday night... nothing happened.
Sunday day... again, nothing happened. Oh, went into town for a bit and got annoyed at the crowds. Am destined to not have an gifts bought for people at Christmas.
Sunday night... starts with an "n" and ends with a "d"... two words... four syllables.
Monday day through to Tuesday night... I might as well just lump it all in together and stop dragging it out... with the exception of doing laundry and our internet at home conking out... Nada. Oh, and the fact that last night's episode of House was really really good...
Um... I am going to shut up now...
Bea "when did my life become so boring?" Petty
It is entitled "Eau d'Aspargus"
I had asparagus for dinner last night. It was delicious, as was the chicken I made to go along with it, but as this posting is not entitled "Eau de Poulet" that is neither here nor there. So I had my dinner, it was good... and an early night to bed.
I woke up in the middle of the night as per usual... I have perhaps the WORST bladder on the entire planet and it is a very rare night that I do not wake up having to go to the bathroom. Although, last night, I am happy to say that it was not my bladder that woke me up, but the sound of a little motor humming away beside my pillow which in reality was my cat purring away happily at nothing in particular (the roomie can attest to the fact that she has the loudest purr in all the land). Most cats require stimuli in order to get their little purr motor going, but since her near brush with death, Oreo purrs for no particular reason other than because she can. It is adorable... just not when it is right in my ear... and not at 3am. But awake I was so I trudges downstairs to do my nightly business, and then...
Now, I just did a little bit of research and apparently having urine that smells like a skunk crawled inside you and died after eating asparagus is not uncommon... It's a genetic thing, like having earlobes or being completely disgusted by turnips... and apparently it's a trait that I have inherited in spades. It is definitely a trait that I could have lived without. I thank my parents for my blue eyes, and the ear lobes... rolling my tongue seems a little useless, as is being double jointed... and knowing about a genetic sensitivity to an enzyme in turnips that make them taste like turpentine would have been EXTREMELY helpful while growing up (thank you anthropology lab)...
Anyway, just a warning for those of you who may or may not ever spend time with me after I have eaten asparagus. You might want to wait a few minutes before going into the bathroom after I have been in there ... but listen, don't go blaming ME... blame my parents... for it was they, after all, who placed this curse at my feet so many years ago.
Bea "Don't they have support groups for stuff like this?" Petty
Yes, I am a little biased when it comes to HP. I love the books, I love the movies... I collect stamps and other memorabilia (or rather, my Mother collects these things for me... bless her)... I read Mugglenet.com on occasion... I can debate endlessly on why Snape killed Dumbledore in the last book (sorry, if you haven't read it by now I feel no responsibility for spoiling this secret)...
All that being said, I must give huge kudos to the writer and director for turning what could have been a disaster into something really great. True, lots of things were left out... they had to be. The book has over 600 pages... some things had to go and one always worries that they will get rid of all the important and juiciest bits (although I have to admit that I was always really curious about what some of the characters that they left out might look like... Ludo Bagman for one). I'll say it again...
Has anyone not thought it weird that I have yet to display any excitement about the release of Goblet of Fire in theatres last Friday?
I thought so...
The conversation a few weeks ago went something like this:
Cell phone rings.
Bea picks up "Hello".
Roomie answers, voice sad "Hey".
Bea "How was your dentist appointment?"
Roomie hesitates "Um, Ok"
Bea, concerned "Is everything OK?"
Roomie, bursting into tears "No, everything is NOT Ok! My life is over and I fear that you will never speak to me again"
Bea, reassuring "Now, now, it can't be all that bad. Tell me, what happened?"
Roomie sobbing "I have to get my wisdom teeth taken out"
Bea laughing "Oh silly, why do you think I would be offended that you had to get your wisdom teeth taken out? I've had mine removed. It's only natural. Most people have it done at some point or other"
Roomie "No, it's not that, it's..."
Bea "What? Tell me. I can handle it"
Roomie, hesitant "... It's just... just, that the only day the dentist can do it is on the 18th..."
Bea is silent on the other end of the line.
Roomie "Beatrice? Are you still there?"
Bea, now cold "Yes, I'm here. Can't you do it the following week?"
Roomie "No, it's that day or never. It's not like I am happy about it or anything. If I could change it I would, but I can't. I just can't ok? Please tell me you are not mad. We'll go as soon as I am better OK?"
No response from Bea
Roomie "Bea? Bea?? Say something... Please? I never meant for this to happen. If I could take it back I would. Bea?"
Beatrice, in a monotone voice "You are dead to me. DEAD TO ME..."
Click. Phone goes dead.
OK, a little (a lot... it actually went something more like "oh, that sucks, we'll just go when you are better then..."... anyway) exaggerated, but you get the idea of the tragedy that befell our household recently. Well, today is FINALLY the day... The roomie has recovered from her dental surgery enough to be able to go to see it, albeit without being able to munch on popcorn. Yes, I could have gone without her. In fact, it was an interesting view into the mind of other people... a colleague at work as well as my Computer Philosopher both suggested that I should go and then pretend that I hadn't gone... but I resisted because, I am like, the bestest friend a person could, like have, like ever...
So tonight is the night... why oh why can't it be 5 o'clock already?
Anyhoo, that new fabulous free dating site is interesting to say the least. There are some good fish. There must be, right? I thought there was at least one. He turned out to be completely insane as you will soon discover in the little story that follows that I have entitled.
"Not All Fish are Sane"
As many of you know, I have a little bit of a fondness for British culture. I will freely admit that to anyone... it is even written on my profile so it isn't like I went out of my way to hide it and up until this point in my life, it has not offended anyone. True, most of my friends can't relate and think that I am a little odd, but there you have it. So I meet this fish. He seems nice, normal etc... we write back and forth for quite some time and he was super keen to come with me to the Catherine the Great exhibit at the AGO... very keen.
I am, really not sure how this happened, but our first msn conversation turned out to be our last one ever. It started off simply enough... with a seemingly innocent remark about the colour of my font not being the right colour for someone who like England so much... apparently, and I so did not know this, but apparently the colour of font that one uses on msn should be chosen to reflect your heritage. Font Fish's (FF) font was green to reflect his Irish heritage and he logically thought that mine should be red to reflect what he thought was my English heritage, although I was using a blue font so it's not like I wasn't using a colour that makes up the bulk of the Union Jack... anyway the "font= nationality/heritage" discussion prompted me to mention that I was, in fact, also of Irish descent and logically that should have been a good thing BUT apparently, and I did not know this either, apparently people of Irish descent are not allowed to like anything English... something about the English being the oppressors of the world and they ruined his family back in the 1850's etc... which then became all my fault somehow... because I studied British history and should have been able to go back in time to prevent the potato famine... or something like that... And then I basically became a stupid idiot because a) I studied British history and that, like, has so been done and b) History IS stupid... except for Irish history of course, because the Irish have never done nothing bad to nobody and that c) If I take a course in baseball does that make me an expert baseball player(yeah, I wasn't clear on that analogy either... if I take a course on history, does that mean that I can be a history expert? Um, yes) and d) I am a stupid idiot.
Things that I did not bring up because there seemed to no point were a) he and his family wouldn't even be in Canada were it not for the British and b) I dated an Irishman so I know more than your average hush puppy about what is going on over there so to tell that I don't know what I am talking about and that I should just shut up is not on and c) get over it. The potato famine happened 150 years ago and yes, it was very tragic but to blame the great great great great great grandchildren of those who may or may not have been a direct cause of this misfortune seems misguided and last but not least d) going to see the Catherine the Great exhibit at the AGO would have meant a brush with... gasp... history... and that didn't seem to bother him until I became the root cause of all the problems that Ireland has ever had... ever.
So that was that. I think it is safe to assume that this was the first time font colour has led to such an argument. It was funny sort of... of course, it was made even funnier because the same day that happened, I was contacted by a genuine English Fish... who is currently in the process of getting a university degree... in history. Is that not just the weirdest thing?
But all these fish may be soon extinct as I actually succeeded, for the first time in like... only GOD knows (literally), in making it to a second date with my Computer Philosopher... I know, shocking... with definite agreement that a third date would be highly amenable. Besides, I don't even like seafood.
The joy and rapture you see on my face was short lived, for 2.5 seconds later...
As you could tell from exhibit A, but so beautifully illustrated by yours truly with lovely yellow arrows in exhibit B, there were plenty O' seats to be had and none of them have led to me be smothered by a complete stranger.
It was truly one of the most bizarre events in my young life to date.
Bea "It must have been my animal magnetism" Petty
I like things that are free. Dinner last Saturday was great because it was free. Going to funky little clothing launches and induction dinners are great because they are free. Going in and renting a "guaranteed" rental in Blockbuster because it is out of stock even though you swore you would rather have your eyes gouged out than see Sisterhood of the traveling Pants is alright because it was...FREE.
So this new site... did I mention it was free... is really quite a little gem. As much as I like FREE, it does tend to bring out some very interesting folks, or so I am quickly learning... folks who would never stoop to paying $2.50 to contact someone on lava... folks who seem to have made it their life's mission to contact as many random people as possible because what the hell, you got nothing to lose because... it's FREE.
So what ARE the differences between a site where you have to fork out a subway fare to talk to someone as opposed to getting the opportunity for free? Many. There are many differences... Here are just a few observations that I have made thus far. I have entitled them:
Bea's Guide for Men on How to be Successful on a Free Online Dating Site (I know, it's rather a long title...)
1) Include a picture. If you are going to write me and ask me if I like to get spanked, at least do me the courtesy of allowing me to see the face of the person who I may or may not (probably not) allow to spank me.
2) If you are a man/male and it is quite obvious-- because you have complied with handy tip #1 and due to the large amount of facial hair you are displaying-- that you are a man/male, then there is no need to state that fact in your profile and/or email.
3) Spelling, spelling, spelling. I cannot stress this enough... along with grammar and punctuation and spacing... basically everything that you learn in elementary school. "im" is not a substitute for "I'm", "u" is not a substitute for "you" and god help you if you have already made the mistake of stating that you are a male and spell it "mail".
4) Don't copy and paste the same email to everyone. A distant acquaintance I know, who is also on it (whose name I will not mention) was contacted by a guy about 5 minutes after he had contacted me. It was EXACTLY the same, word for word... right down to the "thats a fantastic pic!your very stunning!" (quote unquote). A copy and paste can be spotted from a mile away.
5) Try to make an effort to make it remotely interesting. The following is one that I received today and although better than some of the ones I have received that simply said "wats up" or "hey" or just a name and a phone number, it still left something to be desired. It also demonstrates handy tip #4, which will become obvious shortly. Please note that I have changed some of the personal information (job, hobbies) to protect the innocent:
hi there, I just joined this site and saw your profile and wanted to say hi and would love to chat with you sometime. Drop me a line and maybe we could chat.I am a groundhog farmer. I am into cockroach racing and love Snapple. I am enjoy the positives in life and would love to get a chance to chat with you. Love the brownies comment. sounds really cute. hope to chat with you. Have a great day.
As you can see, there are a couple of things wrong with this, not the least of them is his eagerness to chat with me. Now, here's where he completely lost me... The "Love the brownies comment" comment. Nowhere does it say in my profile anything about brownies. A "Cutter Paster" all the way... Now see the important of reading a person's profile and writing a message from scratch? Although I would be lying if I did not admit that I do find msyelf more than a little curious about this "brownie comment"... If the girl who wrote it is getting people contacting her because of it, I may have to include one myself... anyone know of a "cute brownie comment" I could include to jazz things up a bit?
6) Don't write a person 10 times in the space of an hour when they haven't responded to your first e-mail. It may be FREE but FREE does not mean "FREE pass to display stalkerish behaviour". And Ye shall be blocked...
7) *added since first posted... I meant to put it, I swear... "Prefer not to say" = "Prefer not to respond to you". If your marital status is set to "prefer not to say"... Hmmm. Drinking or drug habits, "prefer not to say?"... Um... Yikes.
That's it for now. Really and truly it is amusing me to no end. Ah, the simple pleasures in life...
So we dined, we walked, we talked yadda yadda yadda. A terribly nice gent. Perhaps a little nerdier than what I am used to but he had this very interesting self-taught computer geekiness infused with degree in philosophy quality that was mildly adorable. Sufficed to say, it made for some very interesting conversations... each one ending with me not really having much of a clue what he had just said, but being the master of bullshitting (thanks history degree) that I am, I covered myself well. Despite this geekiness he definitely had second date potential. Of course the fact that HE paid for dinner and wouldn't hear of me doing so did not exactly hurt. Really truly there is something to be said for that old fashioned tradition where a guy will ask you out and not make you pay for your half.
That was Saturday and have heard hide nor hair from him since, despite having received the usual "I had fun we should definitely meet up again soon". For those of you who have been lucky enough to escape the hell that is dating and find yourself happily coupled, first of all let me say Congratulations. And by Congratulations I mean damn you... kidding.... but not really.
And secondly, let me enlighten you as to what "I had fun we should definitely meet up again soon" actually means. Despite it's obvious statement to the contrary it means quite the opposite. What "I had fun we should definitely meet up again" actually means is "I kind of don't want to see you again but I am too polite to say it to your face so I am going to SAY I think we should so I can avoid any face to face conflict and then just completely ignore any attempts made by you to try and get together and hopefully you will get the hint eventually and just go away".
"I had fun we should definitely meet up again soon" is almost always followed by the other person responding along the lines of "Oh for sure". Now here's where "I had fun we should definitely meet up again soon" can actually mean "I had fun we should definitely meet up again soon". Immediately following "Oh for sure", should one hear "What is next week looking like for you?" or "How about dinner Friday", "I had fun we should definitely met up again soon" would, in fact, mean just that.
But, when "Oh for sure" is followed by "OK well I have your number" or "OK well I'll see you online", then you know that "I had fun we should definitely meet up again soon" was a load of manure... manure, although good for planting happy things like flowers and vegetables, is not a pleasant thing in the dating world... and your date in fact meant "I kind of don't want to see you again but I am too polite to say it to your face so I am going t SAY I think we should so I can avoid any face to face conflict and then just completely ignore any attempts made by you to try and get together and hopefully you will get the hint eventually and just go away".
Bea "Can anyone guess what the outcome of Saturday's date was?" Petty
I was reading the paper (the free Metro that you get on the TTC) this morning on the way to work as I always do... Cover story blah, blah,blah... Oh good, another person got shot... Politicians did something dumb, again... more people blown up in the middle east, super... blah, blah, blah business... Yay, the Canucks are still kicking ass in the Northwest Division (will refrain from thinking anything bad about the loser Leafs)... Ah, Entertainment section... my old friend, it took me so long to get to you.
Something written in this morning's entertainment section actually made scoff in disgust... out loud. People looked at me wondering what I was on so early in the morning but the joke is one them because I don't start drinking until at LEAST 11am... but that's not for here.
So I was vocally disgusted by the review given to the new Pride and Prejudice movie being released in theatres today... the one with Keira Knightly. Having seen and LOVED it at the TIFF a few months back, I've been waiting for it to come out so I can see it again. For those of you saw the BBC mini series with Colin Firth from a few years ago and thought to yourselves that there is no possible way that anything could top it, or that there could be no one else to play Mr. Darcy other than CF, join the club because that's what the roomie and I thought when we went and saw it. We went and saw it specifically because we thought it could not be better and were interested in seeing just how NOT better it was.
We were like so wrong.
It was fabulous. Without going into the details, it was just as good, albeit shorter, than the BBC rendition... in some ways it was better, the reasons for which I will not detail here for those of you who want to go see it (all the guys I KNOW are already in line buying tickets for tonight's show...), but what I will say is that unlike the BBC version, the two leads had this AMAZING chemistry throughout the whole movie. God bless Colin Firth, but you have to admit that he does have a "wet fish" quality to him... What I am trying to say is that if you take anything away from this new version, it is passion--the passion between the two leads was outstanding. I got goose pimples. I have them now even.
Fast forward to present day... They have a review of the movie in the Metro. The guy only gave it 3 out of 5... like whatever, it won't be to everyone's taste so I can live with that... blah blah blah... script is good, actors are good... blah blah blah... DISAPPOINTING LACK OF CHEMISTRY BETWEEN KNIGHTLY AND MCFADDEN...
Cue extremely vocal display of disgust from Bea.
It was only then that I noticed the title of the review as "Chemistry lacks in Pride's prize pair"... don't judge... I'm usually half asleep until 10am and 3 coffees later.
So, a challenge for you folks... Should the mood strike you and you go and see the movie (as you should)... I'd like to hear your thoughts on this (cue quotation fingers) "reviewer's" take on the movie. Personally I do not think that this Norman fellow would know "passion" if it jumped up and bit him square in the... well, in a place where it wouldn't be nice if anything bit you there... think groin area... ouch.
I was thinking last night... about many things as usual... at some point I must have been thinking about poisonous carrots, unicorns and deserted islands because I had a CRAZY dream incorporating all three last night... anyway... that's not for here.
So I was thinking, as a person prone to insomnia is apt to do... stupid active mind. Anyway, with nary an exciting love match to dwell on at the moment my stupid active mind wandered to past exciting love matches. For what purposes? Who knows, it just did.
At any rate, my mind led me to a place where I thought back to what had gone wrong, or more to the point, what I had done wrong... and not just with relationships ended by the other person, but by ones ended by me. The one common denominator in all of them was that they these relationships were dominated by "excuses" in one form or another. And not excuses put forth by others necessarily, excuses that I made, to justify the behaviour of others and even my own feelings. The conclusion that I came to? No more excuses!!! You can't help the way you feel, just as others cannot help the way they feel. What you can do is live life on your terms and making excuses is letting others have the control whether they are aware of it or not. Most likely the latter.
If you have to make excuses, then something isn't right. In the realm of relationships, if the person is right for you and vice versa, excuses should not be necessary. The following are some examples of excuses I have made and/or been the victim of and have been both the excuse-er and the excuse-ee at one point in time or another.
"He/she wants to spend time with me, but he/she's so busy"
Bull crap. If a person wants to spend time with you, then he/she will make the time. Anything less then obviously you are not anywhere near this persons' priority and it would be best to move on to someone who will may you their priority, otherwise you'll be spending the next who knows how long making excuses for their other behaviour. Somewhat related but not really is a new person in your life (ahem... lavaperson) who just can never seem to find the time to meet up with you... "I don't know what to say, work/I've just never been this busy ever but..." I have used this excuse only when I had too many guys on the go. This excuse coming from me could just as well have read "... but as soon as I am done meeting the other 16 people who I have more interest in AND if none of them work out, I'll give you a call." Nice Karma Bea...
"He/She isn't committing because they have been single for a long time and are afraid to give up their independence"
A personal favorite of mine as it was one that I used for many a month when it came to the former-PNB... as some of my friends here can attest to (thanks for being too nice to give me a shake and tell me I was being an idiot). I used this excuse to fool myself into believing that his lack of commitment/ not wanting to spend very much time with me could not have possibly been that he was NOT interested in me (I am way too adorable after all)... he just had some inner issues to deal with and once they were sorted things would be all roses and puppy dogs. I was an idiot, it's true, but I am super glad it happened because I learned that the excuse only served to drag a hopeless situation on longer than it should have and I will never again accept anything less than what I deserve. Even the staunchest of bachelors/bachelorettes will willingly give up their single lives when the right person comes along.
"He/She isn't smothering me, he/she just loves me. I just need some more time"
Another one I used on myself and again it made a hopeless situation drag on for longer than it should have. It's a very bad feeling when you realize that your partner's feelings towards you are far stronger than yours will ever be. You may love me, but when the thought of you touching me makes me shudder, more time is not the answer. And even more time? Definitely not the answer. And even more time after that... You get the idea. Lesson learned Universe.
Of course there are even more excuses people use to justify the behaviour of others and they can be pretty bad. Physical and emotional abuse are things that I have yet to come across (knock on a GIANT piece of wood), but my expert experience from having watched many a day time talk show is that the abusee excuses the behaviour of the abuser (It was my fault, I got him/her angry...) and thus perpetuates the cycle.
anyway, I didn't want to get so terribly dark... This is all just part of my personal growth. Admitting it is the first step to recovery after all. Break the cycle.
The first news is that tonight I will be hobnobbing with a variety of folks at the unveiling of the Team Canada clothing launch. Am I excited? Not really. After all, I was already hobnobbing with high-performance sports movers and shakers last week at the Canada Sport Hall of Fame induction. However, rumours have it that there are gift bags to be had, and after a looooooooooooong day at work with no internet where I was forced to endure a whole day of actually doing WORK and as such would be just as happy heading home and curling up in front of my best friend TV and watching House... breath... the gift bag (and free food and booze) calls and away to the launch I must.
The other news? It's official... I have a November quota-filler for this Saturday. Am I excited? Not really. He is hardly my type and he already has one strike against him in that he disappeared once (no, it isn't the "I literally toot my own horn disappearing and reappearing time waster" from yesterday's posting... who is not to be confused with the "I literally" guy as the horn tooter literally does toot a horn (literally) as opposed to the "I literally" guy repeatedly saying that he "literally" did something when he clearly did not "literally" do it... just want to be clear on that) and randomly came back about a week ago (literally)... Definitely seems to be a "theme" in my love life of late and not one that I am particularly fond of.
Don't get me wrong, I LOVE themes. Theme tunes? Love them... The Family Guy theme... It seems today, that all you see... Love it. Theme parks? Disneyland, the happiest place on earth? Love it. Decorating one's room in the theme of My Little Pony? Love, love, love it...
Anyway, there you have it. Some news, such that it is...
I'm fed up that the only guy in my life right now is my August (I think August) quota-filler who disappeared and then came back out of the blue a month later. The last 2 months have consisted of a plethora of 2 line emails-- among them, some of the little gems word for word that follow:
Good to hear Oreo is doing well....maybe later in week...hook up....busy this weekend....football and all that...talk to ya..Time Waster
Sorry for not getting back to you on the party....working too much. Just so you know, been giving you the horn while going by your place.... So, how's Oreo? Reply when can...Time Waster
Well, good to here kitty is alive...going to older brothers tonight..parents are in town...b-o-r-i-n-g...well talk to you soon ...Time Waster
Ya...just found out parents coming up sat. e-mail tomorrow...home all day....have off...Time Waster...
Yes, yes, I have been playing along for the past couple months... The social experimenter in me couldn't help it. I finally decided to put an end to it by explaining to him what was NOT (bea was a bad girl... so sue me... but she isn't stupid... guys just don't come back for no reason at all) going to happen when and if I ever got more than a "working too much, parents coming to town, busy with football this weekend" email. Sufficed to say I have not heard back although it seems that he actually has been abusing his engineer (he drives trains or something) privileges like he says he has and blaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaring the horn as he passes ye olde loft. If not him, then it would seem that he has instructed all his train buddies to do so when they pass because all I can say is Dear Lord... I think the roommie-- who was (un)fortunate enough to be an ear-witness to such an event yesterday--put it best when she said something along the lines of... "I guess it's sweet and all... but tell him to STOP".
Here's hoping that I can meet someone who doesn't toot his own horn...
PS. Long-time BP readers will already know the story of my stalker, but for those of you who do not... or if you just want to see the fabulous art work added by the boys at e-closure, check out my contribution to the site.
So far, today has gone well... In fact, it is zipping by. It's one thing when a Monday goes by really quickly, but when a Friday does? Man, that's better than... Well, I'm not exactly sure what it's better than... but it's better than something.
... Because I am about 2.5 seconds from quitting... or being fired... or getting yelled at again. I hate being yelled at. Being yelled at reminds me of my Dad (who I love very, very much as he is the best Dad ever) who only ever raised his voice when my brother and I did something really, really bad... or at least when we maybe did something somewhat bad but the pain in his back was so intolerable that he sort of took it out on us. It happened very, very rarely but when it did... man oh man, you had better duck because when that bag of frozen peas came soaring at you from across the kitchen, they came bloody fast. And when that bag of peas missed you... because you are young and have the reflexes of a fox... and hit the wall behind you instead... well, that wasn't fun either because, although your Dad might have thrown the peas in the first place, you can rest assured that he won't be cleaning them up... and do know how many peas come in a full bag of frozen peas? I do. There are a lot. A lot of frozen peas in a full bag of frozen peas... and they get everywhere because they are round little suckers... and you had better clean them while they are still frozen because once they defrost, they get all mushy and stick to everything... so your best bet is for you and your brother to keep a straight face and clean it up, as your Dad slams the door to go for a walk so he can cool down without throwing anymore frozen food(s) at the children and/or the wall... and then go and play some video games and wait for your Dad to come back and apologize...
... Except in this instance there were no peas... and my brother is all the way in Vancouver... and I HIGHLY doubt that the CEO, peas or no peas, is going to come back and apologize for yelling at me for no reason.
I want my Daddy.
This morning, like most mornings (although I somehow managed to snag a seat at the front almost as soon as I got on) had the bus stupid full up at the front but fairly vacant at the back. The driver was not one to actually give a care, so while everyone waiting at the next stops could have conceivably been able to board and not been left behind, he made no effort to ask people to move back... and as we all know, people will not move back on their own accord AND as we did not have that adorable mentally challenged girl on the bus to remind people both to move to the back and remove their backpacks AND as my idea of using tasers, as of today, has not had the degree of support I would have liked... dozens or so people were left behind to wait in the rain.
Like, whatever... this happens all the time and I should be used to it. I am... mostly... although I find it hard to not let my empathy get the better of me. Anyway, we finally arrive at the station and I made my way to the front to leave by those doors and prepared myself to say "Thank You" to the bus driver as I always do if I given the chance to leave by way of the front. I was prepared for a "you're welcome", which is the typical answer, or even a "have a nice day", or even a "thank you" in return... I was also prepared for the non-response which I get sometimes, which I mostly take for the bus driver being too shocked that someone actually thanked them instead of yelling at them, or shooting them, which seems to be happening of late in Toronto... but today, I got a response that I was wholly unprepared for. In response to my "Thank You Mr. Bus Driver Man, for picking me up and guiding me to safely to the subway station where I can begin the next leg of my journey on the way to work", I received a "Good Luck" in reply.
Good Luck with what? Good Luck with my commute? Good Luck with my day? Good Luck with my love life? Good luck with finding an outfit for the Canada Sports Hall of Fame induction dinner tomorrow? Good Luck with...life?
Well... if the bus driver wished it... so mote it be.
Bea "rushing out to by that winning lottery ticket" Petty
So, the roomie and I went to the Psychic Fair yesterday. It was good. A little smaller than last year, but interesting nonetheless. No one there really jumped out at me so I chose to purchase just a Celtic medallion and a super fun and ENTIRELY accurate electronic horoscope, tarot, fortune telling thingy... It was so accurate it wasn't even funny... even down to hitting my amazing artistic talent right on the head... which I think my fabulous Halloween drawing proves beyond a reasonable doubt and once and for all to the entire world.
It also pointed out that am somewhat of a walking encyclopedia... my head filled with useful facts and figures that I can whip out at the drop of a hat... such as names of ancient Sumerian capital cities and the like. These are the things that everyone should know because you just never know when Ur will come up in conversation... I'm just saying that it CAN happen.
Another thing that CAN happen??? I can be wrong.
I'll admit it, although reluctantly, that sometimes... sometimes... some of the information that I have stored in my brain may be inaccurate... The most recent example? Daylight Savings. I've been reading and hearing for some time now how the US is changing Daylight Savings... to a little later in the Autumn and a little earlier in the Spring... and our government has been humming and hawing over whether they were going to follow suit... to me it seemed like a no brainer because, economic issues aside, not following suit would have been DISASTROUS for my TV watching habits. Anyway, for whatever reason... in not one of the stories I had read/seen did it say anything about this happening until 2007. So I, being the SMRT gal that I am believed that this change was to occur this year. True, I could have clued in to the fact that there wasn't as much/ANY press about it as there should have been had such a change been set to occur, but I thought that for whatever reason, I was slightly more obsessed with it that say... EVERYONE else in the country. So, like... whatever. I'm over it.
Of course the whole thing wouldn't have been a big deal had I not managed to convince the roomie that I was right and the rest of the country was wrong... what can I say, I can be really persuasive when I think I am right... long story short, I did eventually figure out that the change wasn't happening this year (with a day to spare I might add), but I would like to send out a huge apology to my roommate...
The moral of the story... I am not ALWAYS right...
PS... A big super duper Happy Belated Birthday to my friend Wee out in Vancouver whose Birthday it was yesterday... Here's hoping she didn't have to be carried home from the SUB by the bouncer again.
Lately, I have come to view weekends as mental health days. Days where I can flake out and do nothing, think about nothing, recharge etc ... and long weekends? As far as I am concerned there are just not enough of them. Why? In plain and simple terms? I am burnt out. Being on contract means that the employer happily gets to save some money and not have to give you and holiday and sick days... which is super great for the employer, but super sucky for the employee who, in this case, would be me. I can't remember the last time I had longer than just a few days off. Even last year's home for Christmas fiasco only allowed for a few days away and thanks to Jets Go and the stupid courier company who lost my luggage for 2 weeks, they were hardly restful.
I need a vacation. I need one now. I need it to be longer than just a two day weekend.
Sorry, just needed to get that off my chest. I'm shutting up now.
With active nosebleed season upon me, martini parties, work tragedies, cats falling down stairs, accidentally climbing into bed with strange men (obviously related to martini parties), new video games and the like, I have scarcely had time to breath, let alone write.
However, have had time to peruse my new favorite site, E-Closure. Why do I love it so? because, although it pains me to admit it...
I am an E-Closure...er... er.
I know, it's pathetic and I'm sure this comes as no surprise to most of you and indeed, some of you reading this have even born the brunt of my desire to E-Close matters of the heart. I don't know what to say... there is no logical reason why I feel the need to do this except that it makes me feel better somehow... or at least it is supposed to.
That being said, I have also been the E-Closure-ee... a position that at first glance seems to be the better one to be in but, well, as some of the pieces on the site can attest to, this is not always the case.
It has been quite some time since I have been the breaker-up-er and while being the breaker-up-ee really really really sucks, being the breaker-up-er really really really sucks too. I would argue that it is the worse of the two. Of course, I am referring to those instances when the breaker-up-er actually cares from the breaker-up-ee but for this reason or that feels that to be in a romantic relationship with them is not doing either of them any good... as opposed to completely despising the person and relishing in the potential joy that you will feel when you know you will break their heart when you kick them to the curb... not that I have ever done that but... well, some people just aren't very nice... anyway.
So it's hard to be the breaker-up-er... just as it's hard to be the E-Closure-ee. Thankfully, being a girl, most guys don't feel the need to have closure of this kind, so I have not been at the receiving end very often, but the ones I have received have been very difficult. I remember one though... way back in university with a sweet guy who, sadly, was an emotional vampire so he had to go... shortly after I had ended things he came over to my place when I wasn't home and left a bouquet of flowers on my bed with a letter. I burst out crying when I saw the flowers. Five years later I was finally able to read the letter. And I burst out crying... five years later. It shocked me that someone could feel that way about it me. I felt very guilty that I had hurt someone like that which is why I could not bear to read the letter in the first place... denial ain't just a river in Egypt you know. Lesson learned? Guilt can and does last longer than any pain caused by losing someone you think is the end all and be all of time.
So where the hell am I going with this? I'm not sure, except to say that my new favorite site has left me re-evaluating my need for closure... Yes, as the breaker-up-ee, I may need it to make myself feel better in the moment but from now on I am going to do my best to have a little more empathy for the breaker-up-er although in a perfect world, the next time I will be neither.
Take today for example. Left a little early so I could get to work a little early... as usual the 168 Slumington bus had other ideas as I, along with a half a dozen or so others waited patiently for over 10 minutes only to see the first bus go by mostly full, but with some room left in the back. Move to the back please people, move to the back...
A couple of minutes later another one arrived and it was practically empty so I was able to get a seat. Of course, with the first bus having passed us with nary a second thought, that meant that the next 6 stops were going to be packed with people and sure enough, the bus was full in next to no time... but the bus is never full. ever. There was oodles of room in the back. If people were just a teensy bit more considerate towards their fellow commuters and move to the back as soon as they boarded, then more people could get on and everyone could get to work on time... of course, people in Toronto tend to not be very considerate so this will never happen... but seriously, does it really matter WHERE on the bus you are standing? Anyway, that is a whole other issue for another time perhaps...
So, people will not move to the back on their own accord... this I think I have established... but what about some sort of motivation? A cattle prod for example. I think that might make people think twice about insisting on remaining towards the front of the bus.
This same "motivational" logic could be applied to a whole host of other annoying behaviours exhibited by people in the city. The cattle prod may be a tad too unethical, but what about branding people. Calling attention to their bad behaviour. Nothing works better than shame as a motivator right? Perhaps a little bird pooping on peoples heads who don't hold the door open for someone directly behind them? Or a red paintball that shoots people in elevators who don't hold the doors for someone running to catch the elevator? That way, when you see a guy/girl with poo on their head AND a red blotch on their shirt... well, all I can say is that they may think twice about the inconsiderate-ness-ocity.
The possibilities are endless...
Bea "no bird poo or red dot on MY shirt" Petty
No, I mean mid-week... Wednesday. Normally I dislike Wednesdays, far more than Mondays which for some unexplained reason fly by so quickly that I feel the work day is over almost as soon as I've sat down with my morning coffee. But Wednesdays... ugh... just AWFUL. Wednesdays are usually the days when I look at the clock at say 10am because I feel that surely it must be close to 1pm but no, it is only 10am. And then I look back at the clock like 3 hours later but it is only like 10:05am and then at like 10:30am I am starving because in my mind it is now like 3pm and I haven't like eaten and I'm like all grumpy and GOD FORBID you come and ask for something... not unless you have invented some sort of device to make time move at a moderately decent pace... because in that case MAYBE, just maybe I might consider giving you that back massage and de-lousing your children.
Anyway, so that's a typical Wednesday for me. But today, I got a chance to blow this popsicle stand for a few hours and attend the Sports Media Canada Awards luncheon, which sounds boring and would have been boring were it not for the fact that we had a former Maple Leafs hockey player sitting at our table (who will remain unnamed but knowing that he wears a giant cowboy hat with a picture of himself on the front of it should give you an idea as to what he is like) who by noon was mildly inebriated and regaling us with stories about virgins and panties and water beds. Good Times...
And I did learn a few things, in addition to getting a kick ass lunch. Chief among them that Gary Bettman, commission for the NHL is really quite a little man... from now on, I will refer to him as mini-Gary Bettman. Pinball Clemens of the Argos is also short but so completely adorable. People can have very unusual body shapes, as was proved by one of the owners of the Argos... not sure which one... the young one. People with big heads make good broadcasters. Prescription medication and wine don't mix. Not safe to assume that all 300 people at a luncheon can and will eat salmon for the main course. 2 and a half hours is a long time to be sitting without a bathroom break.
A few more hump days like today and I might have to re-think my whole opinion of them.
Also, I broke two more of the seven deadly sins. After watching the bonus features on Lost, I became enraged with envy at the creative talents of JJ Abrams and crew who seemingly put together the concept of Lost, for shits and giggles, in a matter if 2.5 seconds. Bastards. You will just have to use your imagination about the 3rd sin, but knowing that I sat around on my ass and watched movies and Lost AND played a few rounds on ye olde Playstation2 should clue you in to what it was. Sloth be damned, I love lazy weekends!
Five Hail Marys later and despite my weekend of wicked sinfulness, I find myself once again, inspired to tell a good story. It's amazing what kind of inspiration one can get from hearing about successes of others. It was also refreshing to know that I am not the only one who sits down to write without a plan. Of course, now I am going back and doing a lot of fixing up of my yarn, but the essentials and the story were originally written as if coming from no where. I would sit down and write straight for about 2 hours and then have no idea what I had put on the paper until I stopped to read it. Sometimes I amazed myself, for quite often the story took a turn that I had not envisioned. I decided not to fight it when that happened and instead, let it grow organically and ran with it. Sometimes the ideas weren't so great, but more often than not I found myself extremely pleased with the ideas that came without any forethought. It was really cool.
Sadly, the downside of becoming reliant on writing this way is that when the story all of a sudden stopped writing itself, I actually had to think about it. It was not so cool. I tried. I tried too hard. I forced the story and it started down a path that I didn't like. So I stopped. After a brief hiatus, I am now back to working on it, but only on some of the smaller, albeit important character development details and things of that nature. But of the story itself which is mostly finished but with still a wee ways to go... I want things to go back to the way they were when I first started. To be able to sit down, close my eyes and let the pencil (yep, old fashioned pencil and notebook) move itself. Until then, I will continue to look for inspiration hither and yon and carry my notebook around with me at all times... I want to good and ready when it comes back!
Beatrice "what the *#@! happened to my muse" Petty
So I did some research and it looks pretty darn appealing to be honest. I am already somewhat mostly there.
Steps to Becoming a Catholic Nun
Be Catholic or convert to Catholicism: I was baptized a Catholic so technically I already am one. So I faint every time I attend mass in a Catholic Church. So what. I'm sure I would get over it eventually. At the very least it would cause excitement among the sisters... "Oh, there goes Sister Beatrice, fainting again."
Do not get married--or divorced: You can't get divorced if you ain't never been married. I am starting to think the super luck I've had in the land of dating might have been trying to tell me something all this time. And by "super luck", I mean "horrible disaster" of course.
Get a college degree. Many religious communities like applicants to have at least a bachelor's degree before they take their vows: I have that... I have a bachelor's degree. Just when I was starting to think that it had been a complete waste of 5 years of my life (yeah, I was on the 5 year program, so what)...
Find an order, or a religious community, that suits your beliefs and personality: Doing some research, some orders seem more apt to have fun than others. I would like my religious community to be one of the more fun ones. Board games are a must.
Look for an order whose work interests you. You'll find everything from beekeeping and winemaking to teaching and family counseling. Benedictine sisters, for instance, work in education and service ministries, whereas Cistercian nuns are devoted to prayer and contemplation. You don't need to be quiet and passive to be a nun--some are antiwar protesters and others lead the fight against AIDS in Third World countries: Winemaking please! Although keeping bees would be fun too. Either one works for me.
Contact the vocation director at the community you choose. Spend some time there and ask plenty of questions: I have no special plans this weekend.
Move in for a year or two while you're still studying or working outside if that's an option. This period of residency will give you a good feel for the everyday life of the order you're considering: Moving in while continuing to work outside would alleviate the "poverty" aspect of this whole affair... kind of defeats the purpose.
Go through the novitiate, or training period, which may last another year or two. You'll spend your time studying, praying and deciding whether you really want to become a nun: Always good to have an out.
Take temporary vows of poverty, celibacy and obedience: Done, done and... um, we might have a problem with the last one.
Take your final vows. If you made good on your temporary vows, you're ready for the religious life: Here comes Sister Beatrice... Winemaking, beekeepking, anti-war protesting, AIDS fighting nun extraordinaire!!!
Wish me luck everyone!
She goes to see Dr. Doolittle for a check-up tonight. I am sure that he will be very pleased that her back legs are doing very well and she has just a little bit of gimpiness remaining. But as of this past weekend she hasn't really been eating... only soft cat food. And she barely drinks... will only take water out of a drinking glass because apparently the bowl and self-watering dish are not good enough... don't get me started on the puking.
But at the same time, she doesn't appear to be "sick" if that makes any sense. She lays there, on the couch with her eyes staring sadly at nothing in particular as if pining over a lost love. Not being able to drink out of the toilet perhaps? She was very fond of doing that but since her hind legs can no longer support her, (she gets up on her back legs, head full on into the toilet bowl and slurps water with her front paw) she now has to drink water out of the tap like the common kitties, something she has been loath to do for her entire life.
Whatever it is, it is really quite sad. I hope that it is something that can be fixed and that the progress she made when she got home the other week was not just the calm before the storm. A friend of mine postulated that perhaps she felt this way from the beginning but was so happy to not be at the animal hospital that she didn't show it because she didn't want to go back. And now that she has forgotten the hell she went through for that short time she is able to express her illness/depression/malaise... I dunno, it seemed like a good theory at the time.
A new collection of celebrity boyfriends came into my life over the weekend, and since I have sworn off dating and men for the time being, this will just have to do for now. And while the anticipation of seeing some yummy men with little to no clothes on is very appealing, I am just as impressed with the story and writing... for Lost is a very interesting program... Like another much beloved JJ Abrahms program Alias, Lost is apt to f*%$# with ones mind. I don't mind having my mind f*%$#ed with so long as I am in control with the degree to which my mind is being f*%$#ed. For example, f*%$#ing with my mind by pretending for over a month that you are going to be coming to Toronto on business and then pretending to be someone completely different when confronted with the fact... Not cool. Dude who was in a wheelchair before the plane crashed on the deserted island and then can all of a sudden walk... cool.
Am I the last person in the world to jump on the Lost bandwagon? Yes, but I am comfortable dragging the roomie through the mud to, if only so I don't feel like a total dweeb. I won't tell you just how many hours we spent curled up yesterday, being even lazier than our cats, watching as much of the first season as possible. Oh don't worry, we barely put a dent into the series.
Conclusion I came to: NOT watching TV when it is ON TV is really most excellent (also managed to fit some House in as well... ah Hugh Laurie, how much do I love you?) and that sitting through commercials is for suckers!
Immune systems are funny little things. I caught the cold that is going around at almost the exact moment that I found out that Oreo was going to be alright. Thank you immune system, for waiting until other issues died down before letting your guard down and taking some time off. The downside, or course, is that I have been Ickley McSickles all week and would love to be curled up in bed with a good book right about now.
Sufficed to say, I am probably more excited than just about anyone (I actually think that I am the MOST excited in all of Canada... It's true... if they could measure such a thing, I would win hands down) about getting 3 whole days off. My plan is to stay in my sweats as much as humanly possible all weekend... I would have worn them to work today if I could have but didn't because a) I didn't want to take advantage of "casual Friday" by being too casual and b) my most comfy sweatpants are visibly "branded" with a certain brand name that I am not allowed to wear to work.
Welcome to the land of sponsors... a happy land filled with faeries and fluffy bunnies but where not towing the line will cause the sky to cloud over and flying monkeys to swoop down and carry you off to their underground lair and force you to weed their gardens, all the while having to hum showtunes for their pleasure... and on Fridays they dress everyone up as big giant bananas and let you loose into the forest and then they all come looking for you in a game the call "Find the Human Bananas" (flying monkeys are not very creative) and the last "banana" to be found gets a day off from pulling weeds but has to massage the neck of the President of the flying monkeys who only likes to listen to Gershwin songs so boy, you had better learn as many Gershwin songs as you can because he gets pissed when he hears the same song twice...
So, yes... sweatpants it is this weekend. That's what I was trying to say, before I got distracted by the flying monkeys... I don't know why, but flying monkeys ALWAYS have that effect on me.
Interpretation is a funny thing. I learned this yesterday after a discussion with Girl regarding my talk about having "crushes" on certain people... whether it be random men on the bus or my former-PNB or countless numbers of astronomers at the observatory I used to work at, or the vet etc... We debated on what exactly a "crush" entails and I learned, that it can mean different things to different people.
For me, a crush is a small little thing, a passing infatuation if you will, that I have no intention of ever acting upon. Am I going to jump Dr. Doolittle's bones when I see him next? No. If I knew for sure sure what his marital status was (and if he wasn't like 50), would I try and take things to them next level? Again, no. For me, a crush is a way of admiring someone from a far. It usually goes away quite quickly, an "out of sight, out of mind" kind of thing.
However, that is not to say that a crush can never turn into a serious "liking". If the "crush" seemingly becomes mutual and depending on the nature of the crush and both parties are open to more, then a crush can definitely turn into something bigger.
There are also varying degrees of "crushing". Back in university (if Wee is reading this, she can attest), I had HUGE crushes on a few different boys. I would assign them nicknames based on the various clothing they wore. I will never forget "hat guy" or "vest guy" (I was somewhat less creative back then than I am now)... I admired them from afar and I admired them often. These crushes usually ended when I met said "*insert random clothing here* guys". "Vest guy" I remember in particular because we ended up being quite friendly with each other after I finally did get the nerve to talk to him (I'm sure I was in a bar... ah, liquid courage, my old friend). But my "crush" turned from butterflies when I would catch a glimpse of him to "meh" after we did meet. The crush was much, much more exciting.
So, I can admire my random men on the bus every day. I can get excited about hanging with the former-PNB. I can look forward to taking my cat to the vet. I can have all these crushes (and more to be sure) without them being any more than a passing, informal fancy. Can a crush turn into something more substantial? Yes, it can, but then it would no longer be a crush. It would then be a "liking that was until fairly recently a crush" which, with any luck, might turn into "a crush that has long since been a liking, and is on the way to becoming a love interest" etc etc...
You get the picture.
Hello, my name is Beatrice Petty and I am a crushaholic.
Oreo had a little check-up with the Vet last night and he seems very pleased with her progress. This, in turn, has now led to a wee infatuation with said Vet, who I have now come to regard as my knight in shining armour... A brave man who rushed in to save a damsel in distress and rescued her little one from the brink of death. Laugh if you must, but this was the way events unfolded. True, this could have something to do with the theme of the movies this damsel and her roommate watched over the weekend... A Knight's Tale on Friday, and MP's Holy Grail on Saturday... Whatever, that's my story and I am sticking to it!
But what is a fact and as I stated above, is that I do have a wee little crush on Dr. Doolittle. He's an adorable little man... with his little pants, dirtied by who knows what animal's discharge... and his gentle manner. Completely unattainable and that is fine with me thank you very much...
Which leads me to my newest "did she really just say that" revelation. From henceforth, until such a time that I decide that this is not to be the case, which, as we all know is completely random... I shall crush only on those people who are completely unattainable, unpossible, and unpractical. The list shall be as follows, with additions possibly forthcoming every day. For the time being they are:
Dr. Doolittle... he's married, I think... and it is highly likely that I am experiencing a form of "hero-worship" which would not lead to any sort of healthy relationship.
Celebrity Boyfriends a plenty... take you pick from any of the following: Orlando, Vince V., that guy who plays Mr. Darcy in the new Pride and Prejudice movie, Gerard Butler (I know, he is CBS's now... but I did say unpossible right?), and of course the mostest adorablest Clive who sits above... way too many others to name, but you get the idea.
The mailman at work... yeah, I saw him today, he's married... so what?
Peter Mackay... yeah, he's a right wing conservative, and I'm not... so what? He wears gumboots. How is that not sexy?
Former-PNB... he drives me crazy and goes out of his way to torment me... and has no interest in me whatsoever... but I did say unattainable, unpossible and unpractical right??? But hey, it's harmless crushing and until I meet someone else who drives me crazy and goes out of his way to torment me... and who IS actually interested in me, former-PNB it is!
3 different dudes who ride my bus... there are no less than 3 very adorable boys who I see either in the morning or evening who I enjoy oggling. Again, married... I know this because I have mastered the fine art of "eavesdropping" on the conversations of complete strangers. You should try it sometime.
More to come on this as the days go by...
Beatrice "yep, I went there" Petty
As for my little one... She came home on Saturday and despite walking around like she just downed a 2-4 of tequila and wobbling Ã la Michael J. Fox, she is doing pretty well. She even made it past the barricades I put up at the bottom of my stairs and wobbled all the way up them at 4am this morning only the freak the crap out of me by purring in my ear. Oh, how I missed that purr. She was quite proud of herself. At times I can hardly keep from laughing as she tries so hard to get from point a to point b all the while trying to remain upright. It is also heartbreaking too, as she truly has no idea that there is anything different about her. You can tell that she gets frustrated when she can't do the things she used to... that is the hardest for me to watch.
So what's the final prognosis? The doc doesn't know. She could have some underlying viral or tumor issues, but without a barrage of expensive and "won't change things in the long run anyway even if we did find something" tests, we won't know. He is happy with her progress to this point so we will just have to wait and see. But I do know that in the short time she has been at home, she seems to have gotten a little better and that is very good news for me. Yay Oreo.
That's it for today... must save what little ability I have to type (and I had very little to begin with as anyone who has ever had the pleasure of msning with me... wan tot) for actual work.
Looks like kitty will be able to come home tomorrow for the weekend. We'll see how she does not under the vet's supervision. Apparently he is impressed by her regaining some mobility in her back legs but isn't sure if she will progress any more than she already has. I say, if she has already defied the odds, she must be one strong cat. I'm hopeful. That's the end of the Oreo update for today...
On to the Speed Dating update (which sounds oddly like"allow myself to introduce... myself"...). It is now official. I suck. The deadline came and went and not one single match came back for me and although I am not surprised (nor am I even remotely offended), I do feel mildly (and by mildly, think like nano-particle small) humiliated... But I am very proud of the others who went who all had much better luck than I did. So, for next time... assuming that I a) decide to come out of the den that I shall now hibernate in until such a time that I may not suck and b) there is another 2 for 1 SD in a years' time... I will not sandwich myself between Celebrity Boyfriend Steal and Girl... Two tall and exceptionally adorable kick ass women.
If anyone is looking for me in the next little while, I will be at home... playing video games, writing letters to fictional characters and baking rice krispie squares...
And that reminds me... must try and return the Pee Pee pillow to Ikea... "It was lumpy when I took it out of the package..." all the while trying not to roll my eyes.
Bea "TGIF" Petty
Yesterday I could not bear to put a picture of Oreo up, lest I hear shortly thereafter that she hadn't made it. Today I am decidedly more hopeful. Thanks to everyone for the good wishes and thoughts you sent. It seems to have done a world good.
So what's the status? Fairly good actually. While she still cannot really walk, she seems to have regained some movement in her back legs, and has eaten and done her business on her own... and she is as ornery as she ever is in a situation that does not want to be in. People who know Oreo know here well will laugh at what the vet said this morning... "She sure likes to complain." That she does Dr., that she does.
He also brought up the fact that she twitches from time to time and while he thought that was maybe a bi-product of what had just happened to her, I assured him that she has always had a little bit of a facial tic. The tic, coupled with the fact that she does actually swear (I kid you not, you can ask Molly, who has been at the receiving end of being called an F&*#$%^ B*&#$! on several occasions when Oreo hasn't gotten what she wants, namely a treat), the conclusion I have come to as of this morning is that my cat has Tourette's Syndrome. How lovely.
Anyway, she is not out of the woods yet but the vet is hopeful that she may be released by Saturday, maybe tomorrow if she progresses to the same degree today as she did yesterday.
Beatrice "a little more bounce in my step today" Petty
It's funny how quickly things can change.
I woke up this morning (early thank goodness) to find the thing most precious to me lying nearly paralyzed on the floor. It turn out that my adorable Oreo, at some point in the night, suffered from what the Vet thinks was a cardiac embolism that sent a clot somewhere, which then caused paralysis in the lower half of her body... or something along those lines. Truth be told, I was half listening, and my ears only perked up when I heard the prognosis, which isn't good.
If she responds to treatment within the next 12 hours, she may live. If she does not, she will have to be put down. That's assuming of course, that that is the only issue. It's about a 50-50 chance he says.
Sorry to be a downer. I was really looking forward to today's posting and generously spelling out the Do's and Dont's of the silliness of Speed Dating... such as, don't go with 3 other friends when there are only 3 decent guys because it is inevitable that you will all have the same "yes" list and then it could just get awkward... or don't sit right after someone who works at the same place as you... or do make sure that you get an extra beer before the thing starts... or that 5 minutes can seem like an eternity or a blink of an eye...Things of that nature.
It's funny how quickly things can change.
Bea "a little less spring in my step today" Petty
Ode to Transit
Leave for work early
Buses leave people behind
I think we should move
On a different note, perhaps tomorrow I will present my first ever SpeedDateKu as Girl and I and some of her peeps will be attending our first ever Speed Dating extravaganza. Although there is always the possibility, however slight, that one of us might actually meet someone interesting, I think the consensus is that it is the most ridiculous thing ever. The events this evening are scheduled to unfold thusly:
"The women will choose a table & the men will rotate tables every five minutes when the whistle is blown. You will indicate on your reply card after each date whether or not you would like to exchange contact information with that person by checking "yes" or "no."
It's just that easy... yes... or no...
I must admit that I have this fear that the numbers won't be even and that I will be sitting alone at my "table" for much of the event, forever being skipped over by the assortment of gentlemen in attendance. For this reason, I will bring a book or a deck of cards perhaps, to play solitaire. Maybe I'll head home and grab one of my new pillows and take a nap on my table... bring a stick so that the guy can poke me if/when he sits... or maybe someone will have a Gameboy or something I can borrow.
Stay tuned for all the juicy deets!
Beatrice "sometimes I don't know what the hell I am thinking" Petty
At any rate, we made it and the shopping began. I won't go into all the details about our time in IKEA, except to say that eating at IKEA rocks. Is there any other place on the planet where you can get a spaghetti and meatballs meal with garlic bread and non-stop pop for 4$s? I don't think so...
So what was on the shopping list? Bedding, bedding and more bedding. New pillows, sheets, pillowcases, duvet covers. It was super fabulous. My new pillow is divine and there is nothing sweeter than brand new sheets.
New Pillows, sheets, pillowcases, duvet cover = $150
Getting a good night's sleep in one's new pillows, sheets, pillowcases, duvet cover = priceless
Did I have a good night's sleep... finally... (we bout of insomnia at the mo')... um, not really... but at least I was cozy and comfy while tossing and turning. I feel good about tonight... fingers crossed!
So as not to leave you in suspense, my date with GTTA went well. Really nice guy, lots in common etc... Jury is out as to whether there was chemisty. There was and there wasn't if you catch my drift... I'll see what the 8 Ball has to say... although so far, it has proven itself to be an untrustworthy little bugger...
So here's my next dilemma, which is not a dilemma per say... more that I need some reinforcement that I am not a horrible human being... Here's the sitch.
A while back, when I was still on Lalalalalife, I started chatting to a guy who I had dismissed as a "time waster" which was fine because, well, I've given up that particular battle. He smiled at me. He was older... like 40, which was OK... I'm not ageist, but I do prefer to date within my own age group if you know what I mean. Based on past experiences, 40 has the potential to be a tad too old for me, but I have an open mind so... Anyway, we started chatting. That was about a month ago and he has now finally gotten around to asking to meet up. Here is the story thus far, with todays illuminations listed in points 3 through 5:
1) He says he does some sort of marketing manager job thingy full time. He also has a part time sales job at an establishment that sells bed and bath accessories. A 40 year old man working in a bed and bath accessory store scares me. I don't know why. It just does. Don't judge me.
2) He stopped talking to me for about a week. I thought he had gone for good. When a person who talks to you everyday suddenly disappears for weeks at a time, it can mean one of several things. A) they forgot how to turn their computer on or B) that they decided to go on vacation at the last minute and did not mention it or C) that they have been out gallivanting around with people of the opposite sex. Assuming that people very rarely forget something as basic as turning their computer on and that most people are genuinely excited about vacations and do their best to rub everyone's noses in it... Anyway, this is neither here nor there, but it illustrates that I have not really been top of mind.
3) In addition to him perhaps losing the mental ability to turn on his computer, it turns out that he is also dyslexic and/or can't read period. Finally admitting to the fact after a month that you are not, in fact, 40 years old, but that you accidentally set the date wrong and are actually 44 years old seems a little farfetched. This is especially the case when you admittedly only date women 15+ years your junior.
4) Oh, and by the way, I know I did not mention that I have a teenage son, but I'm mentioning it now 'cause I thought you should know.
5) Sensing that perhaps I could be rattled by his additional number of years on the planet/ poor math/typing skills, coupled with having a teenage son, his next task was to convince me that he was good "BF" material. I am willing to believe this, and told him as much however... and this is proof positive that sometimes it is best to quit while you are ahead...to continue on and attempt to further convince me of your BF material-ness by detailing that you date girls my age ALL the time and they are ALL fine with him being the age he is, and that they ALL agree that he IS good "BF" material just causes me to shake my head. Because if ALL these significantly younger girls have no problem with his age and they ALL agree that he IS good BF material...
So here's my quandary... Am I a bad person for not wanting to meet up with this fella?
There's an old saying in Tennessee -- I know it's in Texas-- probably in Tennessee that says-- fool me once, shame on -- shame on you. Fool me -- you can't get fooled again.