Commuting Calamity

I think it's fair to say I am being laughed at by the cosmos, and all I have to say to that is hmph, really? Okay so I have to say I didn't feel that way when I looked to my right this morning, there he was, afternoon bus boy, the one I actually have flirted with. This was only after I finished off my large serving of bran and organic yogurt right from the large tub (it was not the whole tub, just a convenient usage of the remainder). Each other's presence was acknowledged and there it was left, left with us sitting on either ends of the train, waiting, only to realize we get off at the same stop. The creepy thing was that is was in act the self exposure of ourselves. It is one thing to get on a bus at a major loop with trains and bus converging, we could have been coming from any which direction possible, however it turns out we both make the same one hour commute to the same stop. We daily get on and off at the same stop an hour or so from our respective home bus stops. Maybe it's surprising to say that I find that new information in both of our data banks more invasive and revealing than the bus ride back before Christmas we spent pressed into each other (packed bus, nothing more).

Oh well, Happy Tuesday and on that wonderful note a theme song for this week,

Boys with Instruments

According to the local urban/folk/indie paper I missed the boat. I missed getting on the I have a huge crush on you boat. See my favorite drummer, who happens to be non-tattooed (shocker for me because well the sleeve or half sleeve is normally a trump card for most men), his band is breaking out of the local scene. Yep, I have pined for years for this man and never felt I was in a place to pitch a proposal of dinner, drinks or Rook in any self respecting, I'm awesome, fall in love with me kind of way. And now, now I'm only a groupie, I can only every be a groupie, so what I've been head over stilletos for the man long before I could walk properly in them. So on that note, best of luck K and Eldorado, go forth and find her, because I don't see the stars changing on this one anytime soon or ever.

On to my new love, KOL, I could use one of them like a hole in my head, but hey, let's call that hole a fashion statement, I think we can work with it.


Use Somebody - KINGS OF LEON

I Couldn't Reach the Stool or My Confidence

I will confess I believe the cosmos has a sense of humor. I managed to get out of work early last Thursday and so hustled my tired self home. I had a premonition that gum and a little touch up was a good thing - so I did. AND low and behold who'd I see - my missed connection who I've never been able to track down since before Christmas - I honestly think we both looked a little shocked when we turned to each other - or my face could have had an Oh S@#$ what am I supposed to do now? And there in that moment I fell off the horse, bar stool or step stool I was on. He didn't do anything and as I waiting for him to get off the bus, who gets off before him Morning Bus Boy and I was like Oh of course - the two men of the #16 bus on at the same time and I'm here looking cute and yet nothing. I could pry my lovely self off the seat, but really? Isn't it the time for the men to do something? There I go being picky again.

For no other reason other than sometimes we need these kinds of songs to get back into the swing of things, I mean Pat Benatar isn't quite the ideal, love might be quite the fight, but seriously we're going for easier here.

Back on the Horse or the Bar Stool?

JJ and I are both stuck, we've been on the horse before, we've also been on bar stools before and neither it seems have been good times. So now that we are racing towards an age we won't mention, with very little in the way of prospects we're trying to figure out if we have gotten something fundamental wrong in this whole process. We know what we want and we know that is more than likely not in one of the downtown restaurants, but maybe we don't need them. Hear me out, maybe we just need to get the game out of the rust factory it's in, get a free drink, a wink and smile and get the ole hottie mobile in gear. Who cares if they never call, never really looked at your face and just memorized your rack, maybe that's all we need for that brief fleeting moment to pursue that which we really want. In JJ's case a blind date with a hottie MD she spent one fleeting night in conversation with a party years ago, and me? A friendship with a boy who knows to keep his hands to himself and his honesty consistent would be fabulous right now - give the whole fact that I got bucked from the horse and royally smack my head, I think I've got to walk the horse a while before I try the jump.

Photo http://www.flickr.com/photos/grimjaw/322726896/

Walk Tall

As I look back on this year, and the fact that I went through three online relationships - one of which resulted in an engagement and a subsequent relationship, I wonder why I get hot flashes and heart palpitations at the thought of going on a date. Maybe because I'm still stuck where Torres is - it's towards the end of the clip. For all those struggling to get back in the game, up on the horse or whatever the case maybe - Walk Tall and while you're waiting for him to call enjoy some Grey's or just get out there and talk to someone else if you can stomach all the stomach curdling joy of it...

The Skinny on Singleness

I like let's say 98% of women in North America (those over saturated with magazine/Hollywood culture) don't like something about their bodies. While I will say I work out, I am actually attempting to run a 1/2 marathon in April and a full in October, but great scott I SO don't, nor will I ever look like Jessica Biel or one of those tarts for a million different reasons. But anyways - the issue is for me, one that I continually have to re-examine is - does it matter. My size that is, is average good enough? I try and talk myself down off the panic stairclimber with this - what the hell happens when I can't train, have babies or something else happens and I gain weight and either look like me at this exact moment (pre-extensive running) or heavier. I mean we say his love won't change and yadda yadda - but really?

Then again what do we average girls do? Do we settle for the boy with the beer gut 'cause he's the only one who finds us foxy or keep holding on to the belief that our male counterparts are not so brainwashed by all the airbrushing in the latest Maxim to realize that a really woman, with curves, flaws, but really awesome hair and a kick asparagus recipe for ____ (I've got more than one recipe to fit that blank) is a far better catch than the girl with the 8 pack they've been leering at...

All that being said I prefer to step away from all this relational angst because I can - and go with what my roomie said - what the hell would I do with a man - good point, right now I can't do anything with one, other than make my life unnecessarily complicated.

Photo:http://www.flickr.com/photos/ooyanioo/2237200757/

It's Monday, it's Snowing and I haven't had any coffee or caffeine

I hate snow for two reasons - I hate commuting in it and I hate that when I'm at home stuck all I can think of as I see if falling down, it's so romantic. Where and when that idea got stuck in my noggin I have no idea, but I need to fish it out and ditch it with all the other oh that's so romantic notions, like being serenaded, secretly admired and manhandled.

Tootles I'm off to coffee room to hide from my staff and all their issues.

F__ Friday

While I am still diseased with my perma-cold and I'm not looking forward to having the motherboard replaced on our terminal server today, I decided to make today one of those days I say F It (it being all the stress). To aid in that oath of positivity, the FRAY have announced concert days, the sun is shining and I gave into my leave from coffee and am now cuddling a beautiful triple shot vanilla soy latte. But really, none of that has any baring on the beauty of today. No rather a couple of smiles from a ring-less Mr. Big look alike on the train this morning put a skip into my step.

I think all of us need a smile from an attractive stranger - and the emphasis is on the attractive - to make us put down the I hate my hair, I look fat today, I can't believe I haven't been to the gym, or that I had McDonald's for breakfast or whatever and say, I'm cute, I'm fabulous, or Hallelujah the drought has ended!

However I do have to confess I had a moment of terror - I mean it's one thing to smile at someone from across a train car - it's another to do anything else. And I with an empty seat next to me panicked - I mean could I for the next 40 minutes be talking to someone batshit crazy - and I have to say given my luck this would be the case - or would I be seduced by some serial flirt. So I chickened out, relished the smile and hauled out my Blackberry and got my ass on to Facebook stat.

So to all of you out there feeling a little out of the TGIF loop, FLIRT with the cutie barista so young it's probably not legal or the guy on the other end of the train, you might just feel better.

Deal Breakers

We all have them, reason not to like someone, not to date someone or to stop dating someone. Some of them are small and some of them are huge (well at least I think so). This whole issue arose after I was perusing someones pictures on Facebook, I queried my roommate - "Is it so wrong that I write off a guy if he's got chest hair, I mean like more then a few, like more hair there than I have on both my legs combined?" She tilted her head and I paused - "Okay so what about back hair?" She cringed. Bingo! A universal deal breaker. Other than that my pickyness used to include that he had to be a vegetarian, even better a vegan. Now granted that I don't live in Middle America that one should have been easy. In many ways it was if I was cool with constant usage of illegal substances, avoidance of deodorant or the love of women's jeans. All of the above I am surprisingly not cool with, especially the last one. But I gave up my need for a veggie when I started therapy. I figured I had to lessen the number of deal breakers coming my way. I mean it's one thing for me to be picky, but it really only works if I am "available" to anyone - and no not in the Paris Hilton kind of way of availability.

So what is my list?

No back hair

No chest carpet, especially the kind that comes over the shirt

Not a smoker, I can handle the drink and smoke thing - not appreciated but whatever

Preferably not more of a potty mouth then I am

Likes kids but is ambivalent towards that whole "ISSUE"

Socially conscious and not in the I buy RED products kind of way

Clean - in general doesn't smell, has no lice or scabies or something like that

A funny drunk who transit's/cabs it when he drinks

Someone who does not look better than me, especially when it comes to wearing the women's jeans - I relent I will allow it - as I have a thing for Geek Chic, but try to not look better then me...

Photo:http://flickr.com/photos/renefragoso/2404749616/

Oh Why, Oh My

Somedays I wonder what will befall our next generation of single women. According to Cindy Guidry, the men have already become women and the women we've not really become men, we still need men - most of us. The reason I pity our upcoming generation of single women is not that I already lament our generation's pick of men - who knows maybe the next crop can pull it out of the bag, though given the scene that unfolded outside the Art Gallery on Friday night, likely not.

Now I have to preface this by saying I always find it amusing when men try to pick me up, more accurately I find it embarrassing, mortifying and normally find myself dumbstruck as to the reason and the method - which comes out as me laughing.

J and I were leaving our post dinner movie and walking to our respective bus stops when there was a group of young, and I emphasize young men walking closely behind us. Their encroachment combined with their subtle chatter about us started us giggling.
The convo went down like this:
"Do you ladies smoke" Okay so it's beyond the year 2000, but anyways
"No"
"Well that's a shame" - Is it? I mean the last time I checked I was preventing numerous cancers, gross nails and smelliness.
Silence
"What are your names" - I can tell J's getting antsy, me - well I see the corner ahead.
"J" silence, then "J" - From the silence I could tell they were trying to decide if we were lying about having the same names.
J in desperation whispered "I'm too old for this."
I whispered, "Maybe we should tell them we're in therapy"
J retorted - "What like Couples Therapy?"
Of course I had to respond "Given their age I think that will backfire"
Thankfully we were at the corner and could make our respective breaks for it.

Now bless their young hearts for making me doubt my usage of Botox and anti-aging products, I mean maybe I look too young... Then again as I said to C that night - I don't get it, they saw all of what? The back of our heads and the side of my face. They don't know anything beyond my fabulous taste in handbags and that I'm taller then J. You know I understand a guy approaching a woman in a restaurant/bar or other social setting, but 11pm at night on a street when all you've seen is her bundled up backside, that's when you've lost me.

You want to know what's even sadder - I've had more pick ups from behind than from in front - I guess I manage to style my hair well in the back, even though my arm length makes using the flatiron difficult.

Photo: http://flickr.com/photos/23017963@N00/114390867/