So … I’m listening to this book …

I really love Laurel K Hamilton. She writes about all sorts of interesting things, vampires, witches, magic, lycanthropes, polyamorous relationships, fairies and goblins and on and on. I tend to listen to the books on audio on my longish commute (about an hour each way). I’ve picked up her books all out of order, but she writes so well, I can enjoy each story individually without being too concerned about the long term story line.




The one I’m currently listening too is called Obsidian Butterfly. It’s got the main character (Anita Blake) in New Mexico hunting some preternatural being. I’m happily listening along when Edward (sociopathic monster hunter) introduces his two backups on this job. Bernardo and Olaf. OMG I almost drove off the road. I actually had to stop listening to book for a bit to calm down. It’s the most creepy of coincidences … and I seldom believe in those.



I grew up in Burlington, Ontario in the 80’s & 90’s and the names Bernardo and Olah were infamous. Two horrific killings in my upper-middle class neighbourhood. It stole some of our innocence … and forced many of us to know that there were monsters out there, not just the ones under my bed.

To further the coincidence, when I went google surfing to ensure that the book (published in 2000) and the crimes (committed early 1990’s) were not timed too closely together, I found a blog post about it … Ter's Blog and you know what? That’s a friend of mine. I looked at the images on the top of the bog and went “crap, that’s Emma” … “oh and there’s Natasha and Joanna”. It affected a lot of us, and it weirds me out a bit when this giant world, a super highway of internet, global reach through technology, and I see blog posts, 2 decades later of some of us still battling our demons.



Perhaps LKH heard the stories, heard the terror and thought they’d make names for two bad guys. Thanks for freaking me the phuck out!

The new age of women.

Ok, so I’ve been thinking lately about the feminazis and traditional roles, etc.   When the oldest gift and I were at the YMCA this week, I was encouraging him to open the doors and ensure he holds them open for everyone.  I think manners are important and these types of things are often lost in today’s busy pace.   The other women at the Y (typically older ones not also distracted by herding their own children around) seem to enjoy watching this and encouraging him too.  I’m a pretty modern girl, most would view me as a feminist, and a forward thinking “I can do for myself” person.  Being raised by a single mother who constantly told me I could do WHATEVER I wanted gave me a great sense of self, but I admit, I’m very impressed when a man holds a door for me, or opens a car door, or helps me with my chair.  I’m sorry chivalry seems dead, but I’m going to do my part to bring it back with the gifts!

On the other side of the coin, I have some male friends (closest being my best friend) and I’m watching these “good guys” be used by women who do it, mostly because they're selfish and self-centered and know they can get away with it.   One I know does it because she’s not paying attention to the impact of what happens beyond her own skin.  She’s a good person at heart, but she’s immature and selfish, and she’s hurting my best friend as a result.  He knows that I’m ready to shred this chick … but I hold my tongue (well not here obviously) and I’ll simply try to be kind to her.

The other guy is a relatively new friend.  He’s got a whole host of issues.  The one that bothers me the most is that his ex-girlfriend, is a total ho-bag.   He’s got a lot on his plate.  He takes care of his twin brother who suffers from brain damage from being a hockey goal (could have gone pro), he was recently diagnosed with epilepsy, so he can’t drive or work at the moment, he had a horrific childhood with his parents (makes mine look like dear old dad was Mary Poppins), and that’s just scratching the surface.   He recently fell for this girl, who we’ll call ho-bag.  She didn’t tell him she lived with her boyfriend, she was cheating, and treating my friend like dirt.  He wears his heart on his sleeve so she took advantage of that, and him.

Yesterday she calls him, she’s miserable, threatening to harm herself if he doesn’t see her.  She’s not good for him, but the “good guy” in him can’t say no, and he likely still has feelings for her.  He waits for her … and waits … and waits … she blows him off.  B!TCH

She calls him this morning, saying she met another guy last night, spent the night with him (yes, she still has her boyfriend), and could he loan her some money so she can hang out with this new guy some more?  WH0RE!

My direct words to him are:

Ignore her.  Do not respond.  Hang up.  Delete emails … do NOT feed this troll.  You deserve better.

Seriously … when did the girls turn into playa’s?  I’d say absolute DOGS, but dogs are more loyal and caring.  When I was growing up (yes, I’m old) the GUYS were this type of slime and the girls got screwed.  When did it reverse?  When did these girls become predators to my “nice guy” friends? 

I now, completely, understand the term “b!tch-slap” because I’m dying to do it now.

bamboo and a four leaf clover

I learned by the end of yesterday is that all you need to turn your day around is some bamboo and a four leaf clover.  They're both symbols of good luck, and combine the two and you have a force that can skyrocket you into the stratosphere.

Thank goodness for my own private diary to work things out ...

Not that anyone reads this, so I get to mentally purge here ... it's my safe place.


Right now I'm struggling.  Obviously this week didn't start well (per yesterday's post).  I'm facing one of my best friends leaving again.  Just because it's not the end of the world, doesn't mean it doesn't suck, and it doesn't hurt. But while I'm working on that, an number of other things are bugging me.


Husband ~ I love you, I REALLY do ... but the next time you take a pot shot and call me my father, I may punch you in the face.  I get that you're mad at me.  I get that I'm pissing you off.  I get that I'm not perfect ... but sweetheart ... have a peek in the mirror and perhaps you'll understand some of how I'm feeling.  Try participating in our life ... it's not a spectator sport ... or worse yet, something you can get the highlights on at your convenience.


Wine friend ~ I love you too.  I understand you've recently made a large and dramatic change in your life.  I know the recent diagnoses of your oldest gift is an adjustment.  I know that things are different for you now.  But you need to speak to me without being a royal flaming bitch ... or I'm just going to stop talking to you.  I need to surround myself with positive people who add to my life.  I stopped walking on eggshells 4 months ago when the psycho left, I'm not willing to start it again.


To the girl trainer ~ ok honey, I really care for you ... but I'm not "smitten" with you like the others are ... so when you're a spoiled little brat, I just want to tell you to fuck off and grow the fuck up.  You're NOT reaching out to people, you're throwing a tantrum ... better than the littlest gift even does.  Your threats of "I get bored with people" are fine with me.  Don't threaten, grow up and realize that people care for you or be a baby and continue on your sporadic, directionless waste of a life.   You can be a beautiful, brilliant, talented, charismatic woman ... but right now ... your not any of those things.  Your choice, I'm leaving you be until you grow up.


I'm trying to do a lot right now.  I'm trying to get over a cold.  I'm trying to get healthy.  I'm trying to stay off the cancer sticks.  I'm trying to reduce my alcohol intake.  I'm trying to rock my job.  I'm trying to be a wife, a mom, an employee, a friend ...

A little piece of my heart is leaving ....

“Twenty years from now you will be more disappointed by the things that you didn't do than by the ones you did do. So throw off the bowlines. Sail away from the safe harbor. Catch the trade winds in your sails. Explore. Dream. Discover.” - Mark Twain

I’m having a hard day. My dear friend, my rock, my conscience and often the missing part of my brain is leaving. I’m not sure if she’s a gypsy, a sailor or simply too stubborn to settle down, but she’s decided to move to the other side of the world … again. She left a few years ago for a job opportunity in Argentina. It was a big step, as she was not only changing her location, she we forging ahead into a life that not even she was 100% that she was ready for. But in her typical strong, brave and elegant style, she sauntered into the sunset to follow her dreams. She was gone for what seemed like forever but was less than 2 years. She came back to visit a few times. We remained close on email, and eventually she came home … a changed woman, for the better.


When she was back, we grew even closer. I introduced her to the rest of my life, and with as much trepidation as there was, I think it was a good thing for both of us in the long run. I showed her, that she could be view as simply a beautiful woman to a very “leave it to beaver” kind of family; that as different as she may be, she’s simply my beautiful friend, and my family came to cherish her too.


She’s my sounding board. Often trying to point out the blatant obvious realities I so often miss seeing. To settle me down when I get too rambunctious, and pick me up when I wallow. I know we will continue to be friends, be close, whether we’re 100 kms apart or 15,000 kms apart she will always be part of my life, always be part of my heart and always be in my soul.


I’ll miss seeing her beautiful face … but at least my glassware is safe for a while.


I love you Michaela, enjoy your adventure, but hurry home.






Sailors pray,
For fair winds and a following sea


The smell of salt in the air,
The feel of their skin as it's touched by the spray


An albatross soaring above,
Dolphins in the ship's wake at play


To witness a work of art that only God can create,
The sunset at the end of day


At night a million stars in the sky,
Safe anchorage in an islands lee


When the time comes to die as for all it must,
To awake in Sailors Heaven where nothing ever rusts


And always there would be,
Fair winds and a following sea

My latest addiction

I have a very addictive personality; this is no secret to those who know me. I’ve battled the coffin nails (cigarettes) for most of my life (I’m 3 months clean and going strong). I also addict to food; back when I was working as an Assistant Buyer for a classical music company, I ate a ham and cheese sub from the SAME sub shop every day for 1.5 YEARS. To this day, that’s still my favourite type of sub.




I also someone addict myself to people. If I find someone that I REALLY like, that I get along with REALLY well, then I want to be around them as much as possible. I smile every time I hear “This Afternoon” by Nickelback, because my favourite line is “from the moment I wake up, I just love being with my friends”. It rings so true, when I’m not working and not sleeping, all I want to do is hang out with my friends and family. My trainer (Shawn) has become a good friend and I love not only hanging out with him at the gym but just about anywhere else, he’s an awesome guy and a blast to hang out with.



But my latest addiction is working out. My facebook friends warned me it would become an addiction. I didn’t believe them, even knowing MY addictive personality. But it’s true. Here I am on day three of not working out and I cannot WAIT to get out of here tonight and get to the gym (shame Shawn’s on nights so I’m on my own). I went to an AMAZING concert on Tuesday and then out for a birthday dinner with an old friend (older now ;-) last night, so there hasn’t been time. I’m tired today, my throat’s sore, I should go home and sleep, but ALL I can think of is “I wonder if I can cut out a tad early and hit the gym for a bit longer”. Yep, I’m hooked.



That and my SACW (Super Awesome Co Worker) just had a 10 minute conversation on the best vibrators and lubes … ahhhhh I love my addictions!

*sigh* another great weekend ...

Even though we lost the hour this weekend ... it's a great one.  I spent some time with my mother, sister, brother in law and nephew.  It's awesome to see the gifts play with their cousin.  My sister apparently has been commenting to my mother about my weight loss.  She's impressed ... aka jealous.  It's not to take away from my success, but rather wishing she had it too.  How do I know?  Because that's exactly how I felt when she was 50 lbs lighter and looking spectacular.

Although my friends may not come over for Sunday night dinner tonight, he's got a migraine ... it's still a great weekend.  House is looking good, gifts are being great, I've even had a chance to soak in the tub.

Of course, I'm not too pleased with the 8:00 communications meeting tomorrow morning ... oy, that's going to be painful to get to and endure.

Enjoy yourself. It's later than you think.

The title is a Chinese Proverb

I had one hell of a reminder of this today.  Here's the back story ...


Last night, on my way home from work, I decided to head to a walk-in clinic instead of my typical after work workout.  When I arrived at the walk-in clinic I was amazed it was only going to be an hour or so (apparently they'd JUST reopened from a closure to clear the backlog) ... it's my lucky day.


I see the Dr, she's kind, but I explain what she's looking at has affected me for almost 30 years ... it's just another "spell".  I'd given up wheat over a year ago, that seemed to help, but it still goes on ... still persists.  The nice doctor, reviewing my chart prescribes a certain medication ... but comments it could be an issue with my allergies.  I informed her I'd been on it previously (about 6 months ago) without any side effects.  So, she writes my script and I toddle off.  I'm feeling rather lucky that my clinic visit only ate up an hour of my night, not the normal three hours.


This morning I wake up, feeling a bit out of sorts.  I'm dizzy, slightly foggy and my lips are swollen and purple.  I'm not making the connection, I just think I'm coming down with something ... so I jump into my car and drive the hour drive to work.  When I get to work, I decide to google "side effects" of the medication I was prescribed.  Of course my symptoms come up ... but under the "Allergic Reaction" section.


CRAP


So, I figure I'll just stop taking it, and see if I can get into my Dr later in the afternoon and get a new med ... then I think ... hmmmmm .... perhaps screwing with an allergic reaction isn't the best idea ... so I call Telehealth Ontario ... and things happened pretty quickly.


After 10 minutes on the phone with an RN, she's transferred me to 911 and they're sending an ambulance with lights and sirens.  I send an interoffice IM to my HR manager:


Hi .... I'm sitting in my office upstairs having an allergic reaction to medication
They're sending an ambulance with lights and sirens
If you'd be kind enough to let them in, I'd appreciate it.


Needless to say she was at my door in under 30 seconds ... I was still on the phone with 911.  I didn't really want to disturb the workplace, so she and I went downstairs and waited for the ambulance ... when it came, everyone came running out, I'm waving them back in yelling "relax, it's for me, I'm okay" ... stopping them from pulling out the gurney and hopped in the back to talk to them.


They informed me that they couldn't kidnap me, but the STRONGLY recommended that I let them take me to the hospital ... this is the first time I felt fear.  Yes, perhaps it was a good idea to hang with the medical professionals while I was in this state.  


At the hospital they fast tracked me (kinda a bonus having an allergic reaction that could be life threatening) ... and I finally saw the doctor.  He not only prescribed the right meds to resolve the allergy, but he actually diagnosed what sent me to the walk in originally.  HOLY HELL, I've been SUFFERING from this for almost 30 years.  Seen countless doctors and "experts" and no one could tell me what it was, or what caused it, yet this doctor FINALLY did.


So ... while it was a tad embarrassing to be whisked off in an ambulance, it's worth FINALLY getting the diagnosis I've hoped for, for so long.  


Time to heal, and enjoy myself!    

Friends, relationships, schedules, expectations ....

I have a very busy, and sometimes complicated life.  My groups of friends are diverse and dynamic.  I tend to have girls weekends, wine weekends, get away weekends, party weekends ... like I said I'm busy.

A complicated situation came up this weekend.  A friend unknowingly (rather obtusely) blew my plans to hell this weekend, and I had to scramble to save a night I'd been looking forward too for a while now.  Ok, it wasn't going to be quiet what I had in mind, but it would still be a good time.  Then, this morning, the same friends tells me that it's changing (again) .... oy.  She wants me to involve myself into her personal affairs to change the dynamics of this weekend, yet again.  She wants me to take on a responsibility, I'm not sure if I'm comfortable with and to really go out of my way for her.  Normally I'm the "shirt off my back" type person for a friend.  I'll drop everything and do anything I can to help a friend, because that's what my friends do for me.  However this "friend" is more like the "friend of a friend".  She's been nice, but she's rather self absorbed and I don't know if I want to walk this landmind for her.

What I'm struggling with is saying No.

♥♥♥ Bésame mucho ♥♥♥

♥♥♥♥♥♥♥ Tomorrow is Valentine's Day ♥♥♥♥♥♥♥

One of my favourite romantic things is Diana Krall singing Bésame mucho

May you enjoy some loving kisses with the one you love tomorrow!

Wild animals in a restaurant

 So tonight we took the gifts out for dinner.  We haven't been out to eat anywhere with the boys other than McDonald's in goodness knows how long.  We always find we spend more time trying to get them out from under the table and begging them to eat some of the food than actually enjoying ourselves.

Today was different, while there was some time spent under the table, and the french fries were consumed faster than anything else, we went to an appropriate place.  Where there were parents all around of with children their age and the kids would play peek-a-boo with one another, when the parents laughed.  Instead of sweating the "having perfectly behaved children" I just cherished the fact there was no screaming, the lil'est gift asked to go to the bathroom (three times) ... and since he's potty training, that was a GREAT thing.

We had a lot of fun, now we're all just crashed out and I'm trying to not get frustrated with Husband's new website.  grrrrrrrrrrrr.

totally conflicted ....

Ok, so I've become completely addicted to Netflix.  I love that I can watch seasons back to back on my iPad, then over to the TV, then off to the phone if necessary.  The series I'm starting with is Drop Dead Diva.  I've affectionately referred to it as "Fat Ally McBeal".  Premise in a nutshell, 24 year old dizty blond model (Deb) gets killed in a car accident and comes back in a 32 year old overweight smart lawyer's (Jane's) body.   Granted I like watching the progression of "Deb" learning what she can do in Jane's body, but where I'm conflicted is the love story.

Grayson, the super hot mid-twenties almost fiance of Deb's works at Jane's law firm now ... was hired right after the accident.  He "loved" Deb, she was his "soul-mate" ... but he doesn't know that Deb is really who is in Jane's body.  Okay, I'm almost at the season finale of season two, and Grayson is now dating his second girl since Deb's death, and none of them are Jane.  Isn't "soul-mate" what's inside?  Shouldn't he be drawn to Jane's personality, instead of chasing more barbies?  I get that it may be "Jumping the Shark" for him to fall for Jane, but what type of message is it sending?  That it really is the packaging, and not the product?

I like this show, it's cute, mindless fun, but I'm a little frustrated by the message ... and my excessive use of quotation marks in this post!

I HAD to HAVE her!

After another fun night with friends and having the Exceptional M with us again, it was time to fall in love (apparently). I saw her in the morning, spotted her on line, and instantly fell in love. Michaela and I took off, I had to find her, I had to HAVE her. There was no stopping me, no wild horses or force of nature could stop Me from OWNING her.

We found her, her soft skin under my touch simply BEGGED to be caressed, subtle and elegant, it was warm to my touch, aching for more. I took her in My arms, knowing we'd never be apart again.

My beautiful Penelope, I love you, more than I should, more than is right, I know, it was fast, it was impetuous, but it was destined to be, and I'm complete with you hanging off My arm. I love showing you off, and when Russ finds out how much you cost, you'll be bequeathed to Michaela, because he's going to KILL me.

:-)

When out of the blue ...

So I took the youngest gift shopping today.  We were at friends for a Robbie Burns day party (yes I ate haggis and yes I enjoyed it) and he left his plastic Super Mario doll there.  He ... was ... devastated ... until he fell asleep and forgot all about it of course.

Today I decided to go to the Gates Of Hell (aka Walmart) and replace it for him.  I had to return something I purchased the day before and get an HDMI cable to see if we can fix the TV downstairs.  So ... after doing the return, groaning as I see the only cable they have is a Phillips for $39 or a Monster for $39.50 I know I'm over a barrel but it'll be cheaper than a new TV.  I've been in the industry, I know the retailers are buying the cable for $10 and selling for $40.  I know the manufacturers are landing them here from china for $1.50 and selling then to the retailers for $10.  I remember the profit cables put to my bottom line, now I'm the sucker paying for it.

As we're standing in the toy aisle looking for a new toy for the lil'est gift, a guy (about my age) standing there with a boy about 5 asks me how much the cable is.  I tell him and he replies with "can you watch my son for a second" ... and literally takes off.  Ummmm okay.

He returns in about 2 minutes and hands me an HDMI cable from the dollar store $2.00.  Apparently he's an AV Tech and hates watching people get screwed.  I was gobsmacked.  Offered to give him money, he just said his payment is watching someone not get hosed.

Yes, I believe it, people are innately good.  Pay it forward!

So ... I have this friend

who's smarter than most, and certainly knows me better than most people.  She's very tall, strikingly gorgeous, freakishly smart and has a scary level of insight.  Fortunately I love her, or she'd simply scare the hell outta me.

I went to her today with something I was chewing over.  She knew exactly what I was looking for, an honest an clear assessment of the situation.   She didn't blow smoke up my skirt, she gave it to me straight up.  One of the few with the balls to do it.  As usual, she was right, and she helped me make some good choices, even if they weren't the easy ones.

Funny thing is, as I was executing the actions to make the good choices, a good little piece of news slid in the side.  It made me smile, knowing it was a sign I was doing the right thing.

Thanks Michaela, I don't know what I'd do without you!

Day 21

They say it takes 21 days to break or form a habit. Here I am, day 21 and I enjoyed a drive down a back country road today. Choosing to have the window down to feel the crisp wind on my face because it smelled good, rather than having to have the window open so I don't choke.

That I can hang out at my leisure, not jonsing for my next fix, trying to figure out timing for the next smoke, figuring out the logistics of addiction.

I had a nap curled up in my favourite chair by a roaring fire instead.

Here's to day 21!

People lacking morals

Few things irk me more than people who don't take personal responsibility. People who mooch off the kindness of others, that don't pay for what they owe, who simply figure they're off the hook, and they can screw people over with no repercussions ...

I can't WAIT until Karma catches them ... she's only a bitch when you are ... and boy do you ever have a tab to pay.

Day 14

So here I am, day 14 of my quit. I've done this a few times now. Last time was 5 years ago. I figured that out when I reactivated my quiters profile on the Ontario Cancer Society's support line. I fell off the proverbial wagon this past summer. Then, the stress of the fall / winter, had me smoking almost a pack a day.

I had to fess up to my family that I was smoking again, when I was ducking out on Christmas day for a coffin nail. It was embarrassing, more than anything else.

So, there I am ... New Years Eve day, sitting on the back porch smoking my last one. I was toying with the idea of going to the store to get a small pack, so that I could smoke all night, but then I just said |to hell with it| I just wanted to stop, so I slapped the patch on my arm and didn`t look back.

So here I am, 14 days into my quit. It`s not too bad. I`m a tad stressed right now with the final move out of tbb tomorrow. I`m still sad. Honestly, I miss my best friend, but every time I think of her being around, I want a smoke. That in itself, makes me realize, it`s a good thing ALL of that is over.

One more week until a new habit is formed ... one more week!

Waiting for the passing ....

Sad news. Dear Uncle Joe, who's currently 94 years old is currently in the hospital, his kidneys are failing and they've decided not to intubate. For my mother-in-law, he's her only living sibling left. She's a spry 83, but will be the last of 9 children when Joe passes.

Joe was always the quiet one. The spinster bachelor. Has never married, no children, simply lived with his brother George and his wife Wilda and worked the farm for his entire life. He's a hockey fan (Chicago) and a very soft spoken, shy soul. We named the youngest gift after him (a middle name) to honour this sweet man, and to have a piece of him carry on. He seemed so strong, so everlasting, but now we're just waiting for the call.

I love you Uncle Joe. Your absence will be felt by many, but we'll carry you on in our hearts forever.

Trust ... and learning a lesson

Having learned a recent and painful lesson, one that many go through, I've been reviewing my theories on ... well ... people. I'm usually very trusting by nature. I believe that there are invisable forces in the world working together to make me happy. I'm a "glass is half full" (unless it's wine, then I'll drain it) kinda girl. I believe the best in people, regardless of what other people say.

Recently I opened my home, my family and my heart to a "friend". She was a friend on troubled times, someone who I thought I could help. Then it got bad ... dark ... downright scary. I've discovered lies after lies. Deceptions both born of mental instability and of personal insecurity. A person so deeply troubled, that no matter what I tried, no matter hard I worked, I was doomed to be the villain ... and worse yet, eventually the victim.

Really, better than a blog, a picture says a thousand words.

Simply being afraid?

Phobia

A phobia (from the Greek: φόβος, Phóbos, meaning "fear" or "morbid fear") is a type of anxiety disorder, usually defined as a persistent fear of an object or situation in which the sufferer commits to great lengths in avoiding, typically disproportional to the actual danger posed, often being recognized as irrational. In the event the phobia cannot be avoided entirely the sufferer will endure the situation or object with marked distress and significant interference in social or occupational activities.^[1]

So the word phobia has been in my life a lot lately. Professionally I'm working on something that's called "Super Hydrophobic". Basically the main concept of it is a water repellent (fearing) product ... but the word phobic typically conjures up so many other images for me.

I have a friend, who used the word "transphobic" in an email, think along the lines of homophobic if you're unsure as to what it means. Simply people being afraid of what they don't know or cannot understand.

But I'm also have arachnophobia .... *shudders* I wouldn't say I "suffer" from it, as it doesn't prevent me from leading my life ... but I will SCREAM LIKE A LITTLE GIRL if I see one of the 8 legged monsters.

So, my musing is how the Phobia, can be clinical and innocuous, horrible and discriminating, and reasonable and respected .... depending on the context.

Ok, finally found my blog again ...

Ya ya, I suck, but life is like that sometimes. It's been a while (obviously) since my last blog post. I found THE PERFECT JOB! It's in Concord and has reasonable hours, reasonable workload and a SCB (Super Cool Boss). They thank me for doing my job, the compliment my skills, I even tossed away a chance to work for Target (as they're just launching into Canada) because I'm happy here.

Jenni came and went. It's an ugly story, she's deeply troubled. I tried to help her, but it's beyond my ability to help, so she's gone. The house is finally at peace again.

Good things abound. We just got a new kitten (Dizzy) who's curled up on my shoulder sleeping while I type this. It's a happy and relatively peaceful time in the loony bin!