Let me take you back in time if I may.
The date is April 29th, 2005. The time is 8:30ish. Bea is late for work and the roomie, bless her good soul, offers to give the old girl a ride to the subway station. It's one stop east from Dundas West, the one she normally uses, but as she is travelling eastbound anyway, it's all good. Bea arrives at the Landsowne and Bloor and walks a half block to the station. It's a beautiful day in the Big Smoke. The birds are singing and the sun is shining. People are walking with a bounce in their step.
As Bea arrives onto the platform, the subway magically appears. No wait necessary. And Kaloo Kalay... the cars are practically empty. It looks like Bea will have a seat on the way to work. What a glorious day it is indeed. No bus AND a seat. Sweet.
Dum dee dum dum dum... What the? Bea doesn't remember being able to see above ground on the way to work. Oh, yes she does... but that is going northbound. Is she going northbound? Already? That was quick. And why are no people getting on? Is today a holiday? Is everyone taking today off? Why does this subway stop say High Park?
West---High Park-Keele-Dundas West-Lansdowne-Dufferin- Ossington-Christie-
Um. Yah. Biggest idiot EVER!!! However, I do recognize that it was really only a matter of time before this happened. I'm surprised it took this long. Almost a year (omg, I have been here for 11 months exactly... Next month one year. Holy Shiitake Mushroom!). And although I have come close a few times, I have never missed my stop and had to backtrack.
The lesson for today:
If your morning routine deviates in any way from the norm... make sure you pay extra attention to what the heck is going on around you. Oh, and knowing the difference between eastbound and westbound might help.
That is all.
So, the Lucky Spinster was kind enough to give me something to do on this crappola of a TV night. Thanks girl!
The way it works is thus. I got this list. I responded to five (you can do more) and then added three (you can do more) of my own. The chosen few that I tagged, you must now take the new list, answer 5 (you can do more) , add three (you can do more) of your own and then tag 3 (you can do more) people of your own. Get it? Good. Here goes.
If I could be a scientist...
If I could be a farmer...
If I could be a musician...
If I could be a doctor...
If I could be a painter...
If I could be a gardener...
If I could be a missionary...
If I could be a chef...If I could be an architect...
If I could be a linguist...
If I could be a psychologist...
If I could be a librarian...
If I could be an athlete...
If I could be a lawyer...
If I could be an innkeeper...
If I could be a professor...
If I could be a writer...
If I could be a llama-rider...(by Ogre)
If I could be a bonnie pirate...(By Teach)
If I could be a servicemember...(By Jeremy)
If I could be a business owner...(By Blue944)
If I could be an actor... (By Blue944)
If I could be an agent...(By KelBel)
If I could be video game designer...(By KelBel)
If I could be a comic book artist...(By Stoli)
If I could be an exotic dancer...(by LuckySpinster)
If I could be a mental health professional...(by LuckySpinster)
If I could be a nail technician...(by LuckySpinster)
If I could be a character in a movie...(by Beatrice Petty)
If I could be a beauty queen...(by Beatrice Petty)
If I could be an enlightened despot...(by Beatrice Petty)
** If I could be an agent, I would be a Secret Agent. My "alias" would be Pettricia Beatrova. I would be a master of disguise and would specialize in getting in and out of hot spots... geographical hot spots you pervs.
** If I could be a painter, I would sneak into pre-schools and steal all the children's art and pass it off as my own.
** If I could be a missionary, I would only go to places with hallucinogenic toads.
** If I could be a bonnie pirate, I would have flower boxes all over my pirate ship, to give it that feminine touch. Oh, and I would also grow vegetables and fruit to combat scurvy. It's my firm belief that a lack of Vitamin C was what made pirates so mean. I would be a nice pirate. Oh, but I WOULD kidnap Orlando and he would be my little cabin boy. I wouldn't want to be a depraved pirate.
** If I could be a psychologist, I would be a pet psychologist. I would diagnose every animal I saw with "severe psychological disorders", the only cure being that they must come see me twice a week for the next 2 years at 500$ a pop. What? You gonna argue with the Pet Psychologist? You want your pet to get better right? OK, glad we are on the same page.
Alright, that's all she wrote from me... let's see. Who shall I tag... What sucker... oops, I mean... what truly delightful individual can I tag. I tag The Roomie, Cascadia, and the Guy with the Hat... Mwahahahahaha.
I mean... Have fun!
Oh, and if I didn't tag you and/or you don't have a blog, feel free to comment below. I'm dying to know what people would do if they were an enlightened despot. Always lookin' for ideas here folks!
The end is near. The very FACT that Constantine got voted off American Idol last night, while both Scott Savol and Tracheotomy Boy Federov are still on... With SS being in the Top 3 no less... I am convinced that he is one of the Horsemen of the Apocalypse...
Other reasons why I think the world is going to end:
1) SS/TB Victory as mentioned above
2) Stephen Harper and his new Bloc Quebecois friends seemed poised to take over the country. Bye Bye Quebec. Thanks for being a part of our country.
3) I have run out of Odor Eater powder. Grab your children and flee to the high hills above.
4) Britney Spears is procreating. Am I the only one frightened by this?
5) Richard Gere is STILL making movies
6) America's Next Top Model is, like, the FUNNIEST show on TV. How could a model not know how to look "aloof", or even know what "aloof" meant? Don't they spend half of their lives looking aloof?
7) Last night, had a dream where I legally changed my name to Beatrice Petty. Whether that is a sign of the apocalypse... not sure... but it might be a sign that I am blogging too much.
PS. What do whoreish flight attendants, Scott Savol, Keebler elves, The Pope and Starbucks have in common? All keywords people have used to find my blog.
"Six Degrees of Kevin Bacon" be damned. Last night I attended a "Six Degrees of Separation" singles party at this place called Laide. They have pornographic movies playing on the wall. Despite being mostly asexual these days, I attended the event for a few reason.
1) It got me out of the house.
2) There was a slight chance that something blogworthy MIGHT happen.
3) I promised a friend that I would meet her there and I had no way to get a hold of her to bail.
So I went, and I stumbled upon a whole little subculture that I knew existed-- after all, I have been on Lavalife for many months now-- but had never been thrust into to such a degree. A lounge filled with nothing but horny single people there for one purpose: To meet the man/woman of his/her dreams.
It was packed... filled mostly with metros and suits, but there was a pretty good mix of all sorts of people. Now, being a plank of wood at this particular moment, none of these fellas were drawing my attention in any way shape of form... except one that is... I'll get to that in a bit.
But my friend J was doing really well for herself... some Lawyer dude who reminded us of our "overloaded with personality" friend Timmy, but without the adorable freckles seemed very sweet on her. But man o' man, it was like pulling TEETH to get this girl to go talk to him after he went back to his friends...
Bea says "Just walk past him on the way to the bathroom. He's right on the way. You don't even have to say anything, just do a walk by. He'll stop YOU"
"But I don't have to go to the bathroom" replies J
"That's not the point J. I'll tell you what, if you walk past him "on your way to the bathroom" and he DOESN'T stop you to talk to you, I'll buy you a Kinky Kitty martini at 14 bucks a pop" urges Bea
"I just don't know. He knows where I am sitting, he should come over" J says, whining slightly.
"Guys are dense sometimes. If you are so sure that he won't talk to you, you should at least be excited at the free martini... C'mon J, you can doo eet!!!"
This exciting exchange went back and forth for the next half hour before she reluctantly agreed that she had nothing to lose. Long story short... I never did buy J that martini. Her and her corporate lawyer chatted for the rest of the night AND he walked us to the subway when we left. I can't even believe how much I rule!!!
As for me, well, planks of wood are hardly built for flirting... but I did go up to my guy just before I left and uttered the very words with which I began this posting.
"Excuse Me, but has anyone ever told you that you look like Hugh Laurie?" says Bea innocently
He wasn't impressed. Oops.
On to the next adventure...
Alright, I need someone to explain to me exactly WHEN having respect for our fellow human beings fell by the wayside? Dating woes aside... Seriously, I'd like to know.
So, this just very recently happened to a friend of mine... although why it has managed to not happen to me yet... by the grace of god... anyway:
Girl meets Boy. Boy lives in Colorado, girl in TO. Girl and Boy have a 2 month long-distance relationship. Despite Girl's reservations about said Boy (a child, no job to speak of), Boy manages to convince Girl that he is all that and a block of cheese. Boy relentlessly plies Girl with compliments, pleading with her not to date other people before they see each other. Boy cancels planned trip to Toronto for "work reasons". Boy convinces Girl to drop everything and come down for a visit. Girl relents, with Boy promising to pay half of flight. Boy continues calling, all the while with further declarations that he and Girl are MFEO. As Girl presses Boy for confirmation on a date to fly down, Boy conveniently encounters "crisis" in little home town of Winchestertonfieldville, Colorado (evicted from living with gay roomate because he "dissed" the neighbour who was relentlessly pursuing him after he slept with her and then the woman told landlord he molests small children, oh, and all the other women in town are in love with him). Boy tells Girl to hold off on the flight as he is heading to sister's place in another part of the state for the weekend to regroup. Boy tells Girl that all accusations are a lie and that things will be sorted out shortly and that he cannot wait to see her as they are still MFEO. 2 days later on MSN, Girl jokingly asks if the reason he hasn't called is because he has met someone. Boy hesitates. Boy tells Girl that he has hooked up with a friend of sister's over the weekend and that THEY are MFEO. Boy tells girl that he never meant it to happen. Boy tells Girl it he couldn't help it. Boy turns things around on Girl and argues that it is all her fault that she fell for him. So that he doesn't add insult to injury, Boy asks girl if she would still want to see him when he comes back to TO to visit his child. Girl tells Boy to go FECK himself. Boy tells Girl he doesn't like her tone. Girl throws phone out the window.
So, help me out folks. In what way can this "Boy"... and I use that word on purpose... how can he think that his behaviour is in anyway acceptable? It was just cruel for the sake of being cruel. And why have I heard tales from both men and women, of similiar goings on? I totally get that you can feel one way one day, and then have things gradually change. No problem. You cannot like everyone right? It just seems that there were a million and one ways this guy could have handled the situation and none of them involved an msn "I'm sorry, it just happened. Oh and by the way, it's all your fault for not having come down sooner". Yikes.
First off, I would suggest to this fella that he choose his words more carefully next time. Sometimes, us women really, really like to hear compliments about how cool, fun, pretty, adorable, witty we are. Sometimes compliments can make us feel really, really good about ourselves, especially when we've been having as rough go of things. But compliments and flattery in the wrong hands can be very dangerous. Very dangerous indeed. And in the hands of someone who is a tad unscrupulous... scary.
And it sucks... it totally does. Some men I've met wonder why us women are so weird about certain things. Why some of us don't like compliments (I hate compliments... I am mildy offended by them... unless you are telling me how funny and brilliant you think I am and then I am all over that... doesn't happen often though... sigh). We try and try and try to open up and trust men. To trust what they mean what they say to us. To trust that they aren't dating/sleeping/saying the same things to other women behind our backs. It is really really hard to do sometimes, especially when events such as the one detailed above happen to the people close to you. I've also met guys who have experienced their fair share of unscrupulous behaviour at the hands of women and are leary to trust wholeheartedly once more. I know it goes both ways.
"Duped again" was what this friend said after the whole thing had gone down. That totally broke my heart. No one should ever have to feel "duped" because they believe that the kindness of others is genuine and given without any ulterior motive. And it really is just too bad, that a few bad apples mixed into the bunch are enough to spoil the whole barrel. An experience with a bad apple stays with you far longer that one with a good apple. A good apple goes down just right and when you are finished with it, you go merrily along your way. A bad apple will make your tummy upset, give you gas and/or the runs. In some cases, it can send you to the hospital and incapacitate you for days. Sometimes a bad apple will turn you off of the fruit completely. At the very least, it will make you reluctant to eat another apple for a while... which sucks, because apples are good... especially granny smith apples. Yum.
Unless you don't like apples. In that case, please finish this sentence by inserting an analogy that speaks to you: A few bad ______ are enough to spoil the whole _____. I don't really know what the moral of this posting is except... Well... Do unto others, I suppose. Sorry about the rant.
Meet Charles. Charles was at our party on the weekend. Charles was the most annoying party guest you could ask for. He was the party guest who wouldn't leave... After horribly offending and annoying pretty much everyone at the party...
This aside is brought to you by Absynthe... now with the wholesome goodness of Wormwood... Mmm, hallucinogenic... That's good Absynthe...
So Charles gets this idea in his head to take a photo of some of us girls. None of us actually WANTED to have our picture taken by Charles... but that was irrelevant to Charles... and with the camera on his cell phone no less. After complaining about our lighting (no, we cannot RE-POSITION the spotlight so that it points out and not down...) and our other guests trying to give him some ideas... He stopped his hovering and exclaimed "JUST let me take the picture. It's WHAT I DO!!!" OK Charles... Cu-ckoo.
2:30 and everyone had left, Molly to bed... I can't remember why I was still up, but I was... and then a knock on the door. Ooh, who could that be?
UH OH... It was Charles... left his cigarettes on our counter. No Probs, here they are... Good night... Um... easier said than done. For the next 10 minutes, Charles talked. He talked and talked and talked and talked and talked and talked... I couldn't tell you about what, because the only thing I was hearing was my brain working overtime (a lot of effort when you've been partying for 7 hours) to come up with a way to politely get him out. So, after 10 minutes of not being able to get a word in edge wise... I had a brainstorm of an idea... Why not just take a step towards the door? Say nothing, but walk ever so slowly towards the front door. How "out of the box". Could it work? It won't... It's too easy...
Praise the good lord above... IT WORKED. For every step I took forward, he would take one step back. It was like a tango of sorts... a very poorly choreographed and entertaining only to me tango. He left when I opened the front door but he continued talking to me all the way down the hall. He can't wait to hang out with us again.
Bye Charles. Thanks for coming to our party.
PS. Anyone know how to get a hold of those rude flight attendants from that SNL sketch??? Buh-Bye.
... Of this patio I got! Isn't it swell? And a timely photo too with the train in the background. Once the weather gets warm... none of this bull crap evil rainy stuff that we had this weekend... but once it gets warmer, the roomie and I pretty much live outside. My day is never complete until I see at least one happy little Limestone Slurry car chug-a-lugging past my doorstep... Sunday is the mostest fun day of all. That's Hazardous Material transport day. Nothing makes me feel more safe than watching cars upon cars of sulphuric and hydrochloric acid pass literally 20 meters away. Yikes, yikes and more yikes!!!
Anyway, today is Monday. Ick. Great weekend though. The roomie's birthday party was very fun except that I over-estimated the amount of people I was going to know. 2 was apparently a little optimistic... No one from my camp showed... stupid Irish folk. But it was fun nonetheless.
Speaking of Irish folk. It turns out that the Irishman was good for something afterall. A while back, the roomie, and I along with her friend M were at Bar One when the Irishman showed up with some of his roommates. One of them TOTALLY hit it off with M, and they've been happily dating ever since. He was there on Saturday. Very nice guy. They are completely adorable together. He gave me the skinny on the Irishman... and it turns out that he'd been having some visa problems and he "knew he was going to be leaving soon and didn't want to become too attached to me and have a painful goodbye"... Right. I KNEW it had to be SOMETHING like that... Because it wasn't POSSIBLE that he just wasn't into me. But seriously, if that's what he is telling people... I'm not going to argue...it's kind of sweet.
And now that the roomie's obsession with our Greek God of a neighbour seems to be turning into less of an obsession and more like a mutual attraction (yay)... everyone seems to be taken care of boy-wise. Except yours truly of course, and that's just fine thank you very much.
For the first time in a long time, I just want to be free. Free as a bird. Free to be me, without thinking af anyone else. I'm a right selfish bugger right now. I'm a reflective bugger right now. Time to withdraw and ponder... It can't be a coincidence that I'm completely mojo free right now... so completely 100% outrageously, FANTABULOUSLY mojo free.
I'm like an upright plank of wood. A plank of wood, who wears make-up and skirts and a long brown wig. A plank of wood who takes the subway every day and who is now sitting at a computer and typing. A plank of wood who wants to know whether the roomie took that chicken breast from last night to work today and if she didn't, does she intend to eat it for dinner tonight otherwise I'll make some rice with it. Apparently a plank, despite a lack of mojo... a plank that's pretty well functionning for just a plank of wood. Not a lot of planks could actually grill up a piece of chicken and make a nice dinner of of it to boot. Although, I guess it would depend on what species of tree you came from. If you were a plank of Oak, well, I always thought that Oak trees were highly intelligent as far as trees went. Not like Alder trees... Aren't they the ones who leave all that stupid sap on your car and it eats away at your paint and you have to get a new paint job? Alder trees are both unintelligent and inconsiderate, not unlike many of the guys I've dated.
Molly says "Morning Bea, how was your date last night?"
"Dude, you have no idea... he like started every sentence with 'So, I literally' and then he like made me pay for dinner" replies Beatrice".
Molly says "Dude, that guy was sooooo Alder"
"Like, the Alderest" replies Beatrice.
Spring... new beginnings, renewal... Time to regroup and spend a little more time hanging with ME. Anyone know a good wood conditioner?
It's raining and Uncle Herb is on his way. I still needed a reminder:
|You Know You're From British Columbia When...|
|You know the provincial flower|
You consider that if it has no snow, it is not a real mountain.
You can taste the difference between Starbucks, Blendz, and Tim Horton's.
You know how to pronounce Squamish, Osoyoos & Nanaimo.
You can tell the difference between Japanese, Chinese, Vietnamese, Korean and Thai food.
In winter, you go to work in the dark and come home in the dark - while only working eight-hour days.
You have no concept of humidity without precipitation.
You know that Dawson Creek is a town, not a TV show.
You can point to at least two ski mountains, even if you cannot see through the cloud cover.
You notice "the mountain is out" when it is a pretty day and you can actually see it.
You put on your shorts when the temperature gets above 5, but still wear your hiking boots and parka.
You switch to your sandals when it gets about 10, but keep the socks on.
You recognize the background shots in your favourite movies & TV shows.
You buy new sunglasses every year, because you can't find the old ones after such a long time.
You use a down comforter in the summer.
The local hero is a pot-smoking snowboarder
The local wine doesn't taste like malt vinegar
Your $400,000 Vancouver home is 5 hours from downtown
You can throw a rock and hit three Starbucks locations
You've been to a deforestation protest
If a cop pulls you over, just offer them some of your hash
It's November, it's raining, but you're still wearing birkenstocks
You go broke just paying rent.
You don't own a heavy winter coat
You can't figure out why Manitoba is considered part of Western Canada.
You wouldn't be caught dead on Vancouver Island or Vancouver without your umbrella and plastic shoes.
You actually get these jokes and pass them on to other friends from British Columbia.
More cool things for your blog at Blogthings
So, the bad news is that it looks like I will know about 2 people at our party on Saturday... Most of my stupid friends have bailed... I can't really get mad though. Some of them are Jewish, and it IS Passover afterall... a holiday not usually celebrated by getting completely trashed at someone's house party. I guess 2 is better than 1... you know what they say about the number 1...
But seriously, it'll be fun. I'll play spin the bottle in the corner with the Plato the fish and the two cats.
But the good news is that I RULE!!!
Moments ago I got word that my contract in my cushy job in high-performance sport is going to be extended for at least another year... and with a promotion no less... No more of this Operations crap. It's so beneath me now...
I'm moving into Communications. Somehow, a rumour got started around the office that I can write all good and shit...
My Cat has issues. She's been doing this since I put her on a diet. She's kind of a freak. I must assume that her attitude has now become:
"Hey, why should I stand and eat, when I could flake out and enjoy my food at a more leisurely pace. If you are going to give me less food now, I'm going to eat it on my own terms Dammit!!!"
Good for you Oreo! You know what you want, and you don't let others mocking you get in your way!
My cat rules!
In no way do I find this season’s Bachelor attractive. He looks like a cat. Like a stray tomcat who was picked up by the dog catcher and thrown into a cage with a bunch of pitbulls. His brother on the other hand… me-ow.
Speaking of boys, I FINALLY met our polkaroo of a next door neighbour that my roomie had been spotting almost on a daily basis for like a month now… I really was starting to believe that she had completely fabricated him… He's pretty cute. He has 2 cats. He wears funky Adidas sneakers. He does not have a lisp.
I knew an Angelo once. He had a lisp. He was Italian and 5’2” with long curly hair down to his butt. He wore tank tops that highlighted his hairy Italian chest… super, super nice guy though…
Henceforth, all Angelos who come into my life will be divided into two groups: those WITH lisps and those WITHOUT lisps. Should the roomie decide to pursue this Angelo "sans-lisp", I am behind her 100%. I’ll even go so far as to give him the official Be Petty Seal of Approval. Go Molly Go!!!
PS. Completely off topic… but The Good, The Bad and The Ugly… really great movie!
That's me in a nutshell today folks. I've just had word that my Calgary friend KS is not able to come to town this weekend... Poo.
I'm pissed for a couple of reasons. The first being that KS is a hoot and he was destined to be one of, if not the life of the party (no disrespect for anyone else at the party intended). Rarely have I come across someone whose storytelling skills can engage an entire room of people the way that KS's can... anyway, he will be sorely missed on Saturday.
The second reason... and this is something that stings a little more, is that I was so looking forward to seeing the big guy. Typically when he comes into town for a visit, he ends up spending most of his time with the "boys". At times I feel like an after thought... like "Hey, maybe we should give Beatrice a call and let her know what's going on". Sometimes I don't even get the call. It kind of hurts.
This weekend, some of the "boys" are out of town, so it was just going to be the two of us hanging out, doing what we do best... mellow stuff: movies, chilling, chatting etc... It's been a really long time, like years and years, since I've had a chance to hang out one on one with a guy who used to be closer to me than pretty much anyone else on the planet. Obviously, when a friend gets married, your friendship has to change... that I can deal with, as it has happened quite frequently of late. I can count the number of single friends I have on one hand... I digress.
I know I am just being selfish. I'll get over it. But it does make me ponder about what I really would like most here in this town... some good old-fashioned male friends. I love being friends with guys... you get the same kind of "protected and adored" feeling that you get from a boyfriend without all the potential bullshit and games that can come from a relationship. A guy friend is there to protect your honour. A guy friend will tell you that you look pretty, even when you don't. A guy friend can pretend to be your boyfriend when some loser guy is hitting on you. A guy friend thinks it is hysterical when you accidentally break wind.
I'll say it again. I really miss having guy friends. Don't get me wrong, girlfriends are awesome too... just different and I love them just as much... just different. I also thought that all guys had girls as friends and that it was no big deal. Apparently I was wrong. I have yet to meet any boy in this town who has any. It seems that my best guy pals are unique in that they are capable of having a non-sexual friendship with girls... Where are all the other??? There must be others out there dammit!
WHERE ARE YOU???
echo, echo, echo
Or is it???
Now, it might just be me, but the new Pope... Benedict XVI, looks an awful lot like Ernie the Keebler Elf. Come to think it, has anyone SEEN Ernie lately?
"Achieving your goals and dreams are my priorities. I am well educated, healthy individual. I have accomplished all my goals and I am very satified where I am to day. Do I want more improvment and changes? the answer is, Yes I want.
I live alone with %100 authorties about,what I do and how I do it . But, when you are with me, it is totally new ball game. You have %51 authority compare to my %49. You tell me, how would you like to achieve your goals and dream and I support you all the way. I will never try to change you, but to accept you just the way you are. If a year from now, you are not happy about your life and happiness, it is because, I have faild to help you. I am sorry.
If you have children, they are gift from haven and they are well come to my heart. In this situation authorities changes within the family. Children have %51, I have %24 and guess your authority. We will help them with all aspect of lives.
I have good news and bad news. First the good news: I would like to meet with you for a cup of coffee. We may respectfully agree to disagree and wish each other a good luck. But, What I am hoping is, you go home, call freinds and call your mom and tell her " Mom, I found him,I found him, I knew I could do it, I did it, I did it, I knew, he was there ,some where" Now, the bad news. you are non smoker and you are a female who believes in one man-one woman longterm commitment. I wish you good luck with all my heart."
I think that this proves, once and for all, that I have officially lost my Mojo for the time being. With no real luck on Lava for sometime now (and because I was so freakingly stupid bored this weekend), I decided to try Yahoo personals. Barry, 42, 5'4" was my very first contact. Barry put A LOT of effort into figuring about the percentages involved in a relationship. If only he had put that much effort into learning how to spell and punctuate (I'm such a bitch). He's also putting A LOT of stock in that first coffee date... I'm lucky if I can get a guy to call me again, let alone call his Mommy and say that he's found the one. Yikes! I wish him luck with all my heart.
Lesson learned UNIVERSE!!!
I am off Yahoo Personals.
Off to find my groove...
While I work out the kinks in my Blog-reno. I'm such a technotard so it might be a while.
The only somewhat, even remotely but not really interesting piece of news I have to share with y'all is that it looks like I have successfully usurped my Irishman's friends. This means that we should have a fairly healthy Irish contingent at the party this Saturday... And, my crazy Calgary friend KS will be in town as well...
KS+ Irish People+huge patio+booze+Uncle Herb(maybe)= A Fecking Good Time!!!
The thought had also occured to me to invite some of my former lavaboys, to pad the attendance. With the exception of Jeff, who now hates me, I left on pretty good terms with all of them. Would that be wrong? Or would I just being opening up a can of worms? I've got no interest in dating any of them at this point... but I would love to hear, from just one of them:
"Damn, what a cool loft. And the patio? I think I've creamed in my pants!!! And to think, I could be dating the chick who lives here. Too bad I am such a metarded loser"... and now, Bea returns to reality.
8 Mini-goiters that grow on the side of your nose should not be allowed to happen. Who gets zits in the side of their nose for crying out loud???
8 Strange men sitting on the side of the street shouting "Hey Lady. Lady. LAAADDYYYY. Come here! Come over here!" are not attractive. Has that ever worked? Has a woman ever actually gone over? I want to slap that woman.
8 It is IMPOSSIBLE to not notice that you have lost your underwear on the floor of the subway station. That is all I have to say about that.
I'm borrowing from the Lucky Spinster. First off, let me give the photo credit for the above picture of Colin to the roomie. Yes, this was taken by her at the Toronto International Film Festival last year. She got the honour of lurking about on the red carpet awaiting his arrival while Bea sat in the theatre holding the seats. Don't ask me what the movie was called... It was so freaking bad that my brain booted it out as soon as it could. The film was irrelevant anyway as we were really only there to see the Firthmeister in the flesh.
The roomie got the chance to get up close and personal with him (and yes, she even got an autograph) because she did her "waiting" duty a few evenings prior as we tried to get into the Orlando Bloom premiere... of course, there was no way in hell that we were going to get in as every single teeny bopper in Toronto had also come downtown hoping to get in... but I did get a chance to see my little Legolas in person... he was adorable. And while I didn't get a pic or an autograph... I was so very impressed with how gracious he was to all his little fans. I was even more impressed, for the next day, I had the chance to meet his rep and the director of the film that we never got into. They were very nice and of course I just had to say how impressed I was with the way the handsome young actor handled himself in front of hundreds of screaming girls...
In my fantasy celebrity boyfriend world, his rep went back to Orlando and told him how he had talked with a VERY cute Canadian girl who was so very complimentary on his personality and not his looks and that the ONLY reason why Orlando didn't call me was because he had no way of getting a hold of me. Next TIFF, I'm getting cards printed up!
Anyway, back to Colin... Molly came back to the seat and was mildly disgusted with how blah Colin was on the red carpet. I felt bad. And in truth, he isn't as adorable in person as he is in his romantic comedies... maybe it was because he didn't even attempt to crack a smile. I guess you can only put up with middle-aged women shouting "Mr. Darcy" for so long before you lose it. At any rate, despite his unfortunate in-person personality, he is still one of my CBFs... as is Orlando.
Clive Owen, Gerard Butler, Vince Vaughn (I have sex dreams about Vince a lot... Vin Diesel and Brendan Fraser too, but I don't consider them CBFs. Besides, the roomie would kill me), Oded Fehr, Alan Rickman (not as Snape), Christian Bale, Russel Crowe (ahem... Gladiator), Ben Affleck (I know, laugh if you must), Jeremy Northam, Jude Law, Hugh Jackman (as The Wolverine in X-Men), the other Hugh (now that he doesn't look like my brother anymore)... The list could go on and on but I won't bore you any longer... have this nagging suspicion that I've forgotten some key CBFs.
Now, if only I could find a real man...
Clive, call me!
I know who Cascadia will be voting for in the next BC Provincial elections in May... In fact, I think she should run as a candidate... Only in BC would there be a Sex Party... Now, if you were to combine the Sex Party with the Marijuana Party... and then thrown in a hitherto non-existent Rock and Roll Party... Damn, that's some politics I could get in to!
Kind of felt I had to blog, if only so that the first thing you saw wasn't Scott's Savol's unfortunate mug.
Kudos to people who know who this is. One of the earliest computer memories I have is from grade 5. A couple of times a week, we would come down from class into this new thing called a "computer room" (quotation fingers). In it were about a dozen or so huge things called "computers" (quotation fingers again). You know, the ones whose disks were "literally" floppy. And while we were sent down there to learn how to use these new fangled devices, what we did in actuality, was play games. Of course, they were nothing near what exist for kids today.
One of the games I remember playing was hysterical. It was called called Lemonade Stand or something like that. You old-timers MUST remember that one... where you had to decide how many glasses to make for your stand based on the weather forecast, how much to charge, how much sugar to use etc... A totally retarded game but fun when you are in grade 5 and thought that computers were the coolest new invention EVER! I digress...
The other game that we got to play is one that I has stuck with me even to this day. "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego" was a freaking blast and a half. Based on geography clues given by Interpol, you had to track down the thief Carmen Sandiego. The fewer clues you needed to find her, the higher you climbed in the ranks of Interpol... so much fun. So, that was grade 5... cut to...
Present Day-ish. I still love playing Carmen Sandiego on the computer, except now they also have "Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego" which, as a total history dork I had to try. Of course now the graphics are much better-- no more blackscreens with pumpkin orange or pus green graphics.
There also used to be a Carmen Sandiego cartoon (which I watched when I could... that was about 5 years ago) AND "Where in the World is Carmen Sandiego" game show with uber annoying Rockapella singing the theme... Carmen always stole really big things like the Eiffel Tower, or Buckingham Palace... Come on... how could you steal those... impossible!!! No wonder Interpol's been relegated to investigating the "unauthorized copying of video tapes" (more quotation fingers) ... I took great pride in whipping the pants off the kids on the show. There was also a "Where in Time is Carmen Sandiego" game show, but by the ripe old age of 27, I felt the time had come to move onto to some slightly more challenging kids shows, like Magic School Bus (beepbeep). Don't get me started on Inspector Gadget.
So there you have it... yet another little nugget that makes me look like a weirdo... or as I like to call it... "Special" (no more quotation finger, I promise).
Bea is Outtie!
It's not his weight. Goodness knows, Bea could stand to lose a fair bit O'weight herself... and it really isn't his swine-like appearance. Actually, at the beginning... like the first show, I was all like "yay, let's have a non-metro/anorexic Idol...
But then, his personality started to shine through... and when I say "shine through"... What I really mean is "leach out"... Ugh... most unfortunate personality ever.
Reasons Why I Dislike Scott Savol:
1) He beats up women... not nice
2) He thinks he is the shit... he isnt'
3) He has no social skills.
4) He thinks he's the shit... he isn't. I'm just waiting for him to decree "I am the greatest of all time!!!" He's not.
5) The songs he picks are stupid. FYI, he's not alone in this faux pas... don't get me started on Anwar... Ick.
6) He gives me the heebie-jeebies.
7) He plain looks evil. I've heard he has a tail.
Let's all work together so to prevent this guy from making millions and millions of dollars when he in no way deserves it!!!
Things that have happened to me so far today:
1) My alarm didn't go off.
2) 168 Slumington bus reeked like mothballs. I hate mothballs.
3) Pan Flute player was under the misapprehension that commuters WANT to hear the pan flute first thing in the morning.
4) Package I sent out yesterday to arrive first thing in Montreal did not arrive as scheduled.
5) Package that eventually arrived in Montreal was actually meant for Ottawa. Early morning package to Montreal sent to Ottawa???
6) Lost my long-distance pass code.
7) My fly won't stay up.
8) Heat in office broken. My half of office sweltering, the other half freezing.
9) Have no clue what I am actually doing.
10) Grand and Toy didn't have the name tags I needed in stock. Ordering them for tomorrow is no good as they need to be in Regina for tomorrow morning.
11) CBC Newsworld incessantly droning on about the Sponsorship Scandal.
12) Finally ate lunch at 3pm.
13) Package due to arrive in Montreal early morning that was sent to Ottawa arrived in Montreal in the afternoon... Which IS actually a good thing. Would have been better if entire morning had not been spent FREAKING OUT and putting a new package together.
14) People in Ottawa think I've been sniffing glue.
15) Have nagging thoughts that the "Montreal Package" fiasco will lead to my termination... or at the very least, a good talking to... frown.
Sigh. Is this day over yet?
"A massive hunt is underway, after a six week old disappeared from a Children's Aid Society office at the Dufferin Mall. The infant was having a supervised visit with her mother when both mysteriously vanished. They had been separated shortly after the tiny girl was born.
Those fears are now intensifying with the news one is believed to have run off with the other."
As you all know, Bea is a kind-hearted gal... I would never make fun at the misfortune of others, but I have to tell you... whoever wrote this article is an idiot.
With the news ONE is believed to have run off WITH THE OTHER.
Now, am I to believe that it is possible that the baby absconded with the mother? I'm so confused. Who ran away with who? Don't leave me hanging. Should I be on the look out for a giant baby driving down the highway in a convertible?
God damn it... as if I didn't have enough to worry about, now I gotta watch out for giant, evil, kidnapping babies!
PS. See? See what you get when I lose my mojo? Kidnapping baby rants? Lord help us all!
Nothing good can possibly come from an email like that...
Sigh... my Irishman is no more. Sufficed to say, I couldn't have been more shocked if I was George Bush and I had woken up with half a clue. This came out of no where... not a week ago, he had mentioned that he was excited to spend the next two weekends together. Proof that once again, Bea has not one iota of a clue about men...
They act like they really like you, but they don't... They don't act like they like you, but they really do... What the Fuck!
What was it that the Gypsy Fortunte Telling Cards say? Something about not appreciating something when we have it, having lost it, we cry... or something like that. I'll have a read when I get home...
No doubt I am just pouting... annoyed that I didn't do it first. After all, I've known for sometime that we I wasn't thinking long term... and that if something better came along that I would have jumped onto that bandwagon... but still, the thought that I won't be seeing him ever again or hear any more funny stories from his friends leaves me a little saddened. Silly Beatrice.
And still nothing from Sasha... From someone who seemed SO excited to meet me, he sure has a heck of a way of showing it. Too bad, so sad... Next.
So from FEG, to Irishman, to Sasha... it would seem that the luck that I have experience of late has finally dried up... much like Adrian Zmed's career.
Citius, Altius, Fortius,
Ok, so he may not be Ted L. Nancy... who I just found out is Jerry Seinfeld... who knew... But I am starting to wonder about my potential new "friend" Sasha. We were supposed to have gone out yesterday but, as I alluded to yesterday, it didn't end up happening. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't pissed at all... a little disappointed maybe. It's bizarre. The more we chat, the more and more we have in common, which is weird considering that he is just some random guy my friend from Victoria started chatting to one night.
So I fired of a quick "sorry we missed each other" email before heading off to bed last night... fyi... getting closer to choosing the new Pontiff... I'm thinking Latin America...
Here are some excerpts from his response:
Jennifer, I am really really sorry I never got back to you yesterday sweetie. I had a horrible day. I just got in the house a few minutes ago.
Even though I never saw u, I still miss u, Sash
Hmmm... interesting no? Now, here's what I'm thinking. I'm thinking that this guy has more than just "friends" expectations from this whole affair. Although he is european... they do things a tad differently over in those parts... Yeah... that's it.
Anyhoo, he did a very legit reason for not meeting me (family tragedy), and he still says he is going to send some pics (he hopes I like), so we'll see. I just wish the whole thing wasn't so eerily reminiscent of Stalkergate from a couple of months back.
Out to enjoy the sun!
Ok, so I may not be a "perv"... But I am going straight to Hell.
The big excitment these days... Who will be the next Pope?!? With the success of our March Madness pool, we at the office thought "why stop there?" And thus, the "Pope Pool" was born. 5 bucks get you in... winner takes all.
So now I have to come up with who I think the next Pontiff will be... Like, this is SO my area of expertise... Of the last 3 times I've been in a Catholic church, I've passed out twice. I took that to mean that "God" doesn't want me trespassing on his turf. I GET IT, THANKS!
Luckily my "could possibly be a god, but could also be a total freakmonkey" supposed date for today Sasha was a no go... thus giving me loads of time to do my homework... I'm up to my eyeballs in Cardinals, Archbishops, Prefect Emeritus' and Patriarchs. Who knew there were so god damn many...
Am I crazy for meeting a guy who is so reluctant to send me a picture of himself?
For all you "friends of Wee" who read this. For people who don't know, Wee is one of my oldest and bestest friends. We met in Uni. waaaaaay back in the sands of time; in the year 1991 C.E. I don't get to see her much, especially now that I live across the country... A crying shame really.
I don't know what made me think of this particular incident today... Oh God, there are many, many more like this... but this one time... not at band camp... at this little place we liked to frequent back in the day called Cactus Club. We were there one evening, on the raised dance floor... My recollection is as follows:
I was being hit on by some wasted loser guy when Wee piped in... as only she can do with a "She doesn't like you, get away from her". Of course, this guy was going no where, but that didn't deter Wee at all. She continued with "She doesn't like you, I don't like you... even you friends don't like you"... which appeared to be true by the way... She's so perceptive... little drunken Wee.
And yet still, this fella wouldn't budge. Frustrated that her slew of insults were leading no where, she took it upon herself to rid us of his presence a little more forcefully... Before this guy even knew what hit him... a little push from Wee, and down the stairs he went. He got the hint after that. Good Times.
Thanks Wee, you were my hero that night! Of course, it's entirely possible that a) I missed many parts of the story or b) I have it completely wrong... but hey, it's my memory.
Funny Wee stories... Anyone? Anyone?
So, it's official; "funny email guy" is no more. Mostly. I think. He got back to me a short while ago with something along the lines of:
"I guess I haven't gotten back to you in a few days... I hadn't really thought about it, but I guess I'm not really that into you if I haven't gotten back to you in a few days... talk to you soon"...
or something like that. It was ambiguous. It was weird.
But here's some news. Sasha sent me a picture last night... of his Dog. If a guy sends you a picture of his dog before he sends one of himself. Well, let's just say that I also find that weird.
What's up with guys being so weird?
Speaking of guys... who else besides me thinks this picture is the funniest thing ever? The guy second from the right looks particularily horrified... but he would, seeing has how he has the biggest... ahem... "package". Yikes!
Actually, I should qualify something. Shasa is aware that he hasn't sent me a picture of himself and has promised to send one to me today at some point. Something to do with it being late and not wanting to resize pictures right then and there. I'm such a tecno-tard!!! Does that mean he's going to Photoshop himself to be skinner? Maybe he's like the former PNB and has an unusually large head? I guess only time will tell.
But, from the "sometimes boys DON'T let you down" files, my Irishman came over for a wee spell last night. He really is very odd. My favorite thing about him is when he attempts to give an opinion on a subject that he knows little to nothing about. Good times!
Stupid busy at work today... sorry about the crappy posting today.
True, he may be a wee bit more "metro" than I normally do, but I could have lived with that. A nice little change from my hopelessly fashion-challenged Irishman actually... Yikes... do they not GET TV in Ireland? Fashion mags? Anything?
But, it's not about "ME" thinking there is anything wrong with "HIM" or "ME" not wanting to go out again with "FEG"... oh my gosh... too funny... Nope, as always, it's about "HIM" not being into "BEA". Granted, he did call the next night, and returned my message promptly the next day. Very nice. Although, he has yet to return a message I left (calling upon his instructions, by the way) on Sunday night... He even sent a quick response to an email I sent on Monday morning. But nuttin' since. It's like he dropped off the face of the earth... Reminds me of another date I recently had with a certain boy whose first name rhymes with his last name...
And so, I have no other option but to "assume"... you don't have to say it, I know what "assuming" things leads to... But I have to assume that despite his call on Saturday, which I believe was the little metro (bless his heart) simply being courteous and gentlamanly... that he has no interest in getting together again. Too bad, so sad.
Oh, but don't think that Bea will let things go at that. Just a short while ago, I fired off one of my patented "had a great time, looks like you aren't interested, good luck with all your future endevours" super, happy, positive e-mails. Actually, I mostly sent it so I could weasel some *ahem* contact information out of him, so that good old Beatrice could ... um... long story. So we'll see. Perhaps he will surprise me... but likely not. You will all be the first to know if he does.
But I still have my Irishman. And the new Sasha as well. He phoned me last night. He seems nice. He's Yugoslavian, or Serbian now... or is it Serbia-Macedonian??? I've never known anyone from the former Yugoslavia, now Serbia-Macedonia before. He lives in the boonies somewhere north-east of Toronto so that might prove to be a bit problematic. Also problematic is that I have yet to see a picture of what he looks like. I'm scared. I sent him some pics of me in the first email I wrote... he thanked me for sending them but did not offer to reciprocate. One would think that if one did not have horns growing out of one's head, that one would not have a problem sending a picture or two without being prompted. Asking just makes me sound like a beeyatch. I'm meeting up with him on Saturday afternoon for coffee regardless of what he looks like, but I would just like to be prepared for any physical abnormalities that he might have, ie. horns et al. That's not asking too much is it?
Cheerio for today,
So, true story... Was chattin' on da MSN with my good friend Cascadia this past weekend, and she's like "Hey, I found a boy for you". And I'm all "Really? In Vic or T.O."? And she's like "In T.O." and I'm all "Cha, like really? Like how"? And she's like "On Yahoo messenger. Do you like, want me to give you his e-mail'? And I'm like "Like, whatever. You can give him mine if you want".
And then I promptly forgot about it.
Until today that is, when I checked my e-mail and there was this email from a guy named Sasha... titled "Hey You"... Now, I get A LOT of junk mail in my yahoo account... For this reason, I don't bother checking it everyday. I also get a lot of junk email from complete strangers with normal names and subject lines like "Hey" and "Long time no see" which, when opened are typically trying to sell me young hot virgins, viagra and the like. So, I almost didn't open the email... having been fooled too many times before. And while I am not against young, hot virgins per say... after all I was one myself once upon a time... Well, I digress.
Anyway, surprise of all surprises... this one was actually not junk. In fact, it was a very nice email from a complete stranger that Cascadia had passed my information to. What exactly she said to him about me, I have no idea, but he seems very keen on getting together. He sounds like a pretty neat guy too:
I'm about 6'2, green eyes, fit guy, smarter than the average bear, cuter than the average bear (although when in the company of pandas, everyone gravitates toward the pandas so.....)and I believe I have a reeeely nice sense of humour which is why I like being me most of the time.
I think I can live with those qualities... And in the wise words of Lavalife (if he had smiled at me on Lavalife)... "I like his style. I think we could have a lot of fun". More to come on this late breaking story soon.
Before I sign off... an update on the other boys in my life is in order. No word from "funny email guy" since him having phoned on Sunday... and writing me a quick email on Monday... I'm trying not to be hasty Molly... but, well, old habits die hard. And my Irishman... I've decided that I'm not ready to get rid of him just yet... especially after all the musings from the gals on LS... I would hate to look back and think "what if".
Although not a religious person per say, I would like to pay my respects to Pope John Paul II. I may not have agreed with his conservative religious views, he truly was a great humanitarian who worked hard to try and bring some peace into this crazy world and to end the suffering of many underprivileged people around the globe. I hope he has gone to a better place. At the very least, I hope he is no longer suffering like he was in his final hours.
While we are on the subject of the Pope...
I had a dream last night that the Pope was my Grandpapa. It's true. He was my Dad's dad and we went to the Vatican to see him lying in state... except the Vatican was not the "Vatican" that we all know... it was actually this dodgy nursing home on Saltspring Island called Greenwoods. Anyway, in the dream we never made it past the parking lot. Sufficed to say, parking was at a premium on this particular day... but I remembered thinking that it was very cool that my Grandfather was the Pope, or "Papa John" as I called him. No relation to the pizza chain I don't think...
I also remember thinking that I hadn't really milked that relationship for all it was worth. I mean, being the granddaughter of His Holiness should have been good for something. At the very least it should have scored me a few more popularity points in high school. I never did receive any birthday or Christmas gifts. He wasn't a very good Grandfather. I vowed from that day on to let it be known to the world that I indeed, was John Paul the Great's favorite (I could have been) grandchild!
OK, I know that this dream is flawed on many, many levels... Too many to actually even go into, so I'll just leave it at that... and head to the other slightly more realistic happenings in Bea's life.
So, big apologies for underestimating "funny email guy" from Friday night. He did call. He called the very next night. Unfortunately I was unable to take the call as I just so happened to be out with my Irishman and some of his friends. A grand old evening of hanging out with half a dozen crazy Irish ex-pats. A night of stories from the old country such as: Grandma getting a sample of maxi pads with wings in the mail and mistaking them for insoles and putting them in her shoes and walking around town with the wings hanging out of her shoes all proud of her new insoles... things of that nature. Of course writing it here doesn't do it justice... much funnier told by a native Belfastian. A really, really fun night.
And so here I am on Monday morning, still a wee bit knocked out by the time change... contemplating what I should do. I really like my Irishman, but I'm not sure if I want to date him. No, it has nothing to do with "funny email guy" as I doubt that is going to go anywhere... it's just that to date someone just because they are Irish seems like the wrong reason. It is also wrong to date someone because you like their friends and want to hear more stories from the old country. Also, when you are my age and decide that dating a 25 year old is OK and not completely cougarish... it should at least come with some "benefits". Benefits that only a 25 year old should be able to provide you with. Sadly, the "benefits" in this case are somewhat unreliable... very frustrating for the old girl... if ya know what I mean... wink.
How do you keep someone in your life who really, really likes you, but who you no longer see a future in a romantic relationship with, but still really want to hang out with? I have some ideas, but am open to suggestions. Anyone? Anyone? Bueller? Off to see a chick flick after work tonight... perhaps some ideas there. Fingers crossed.
I know. Weird ain't it? But lately it seems to be the norm in my life. I had my big date with "funny email guy" last night. It was an interesting evening to say the least. To be honest, for much of the evening I had the impression that he was not diggin' the old gal. Body language is a very interesting language indeed and one that I understand about as well as I do Chinese... but in my limited capabilities, I was picking up a "I like you but"... vibe. Oh well, whatever... We were still having fun.
But then gradually, things started to change. A little bit of a "lean in" to say something in Bea's ear... A hand at the small of the back... a touch on the arm. But still... just not sure.
And then it happened. Walking down busy Friday night Bloor... while I was nattering away about this, that and the other thing, all of a sudden my little metrosexual (yep, full on metro!) date grabbed me like they do in the movies... and planted a soft and passionate kiss right on my lips.
Sufficed to say, I was quite shocked!!! I continued to be quite shocked for the next half hour, as we made our way down busy Friday night Bloor, stopping every few feet to publicly display our drunken affection for each other. But of course, the evening was destined to end in the oh so romantic location that was the Bathurst subway station... him eastbound and me heading west. So we parted ways... after one last passionate embrace... "talk soon" being the last thing uttered from his adorable lips... and then home to bed for Beatrice.
In short, I had another amazing date with a great guy... and it is almost certain that I will not hear from him again... yet another norm in Beatrice's life. Sigh.
PS. What the $#*&$ is up with the weather today?!?!?!