On the Eve

of my possible birthday, I will tell you all I am most undoubtedly a Gemini, I actually had a coversation in the Village with a shop owner who being a Gemini married one and well we had a chuckle about how that was... While I don't believe in my horoscope will have to say I know that there are qualities unique to all of us that seemingly corespond to the times in the year when we are born... but I digress the important part of all this is that I watch "He's Just Not That Into You" on the plane last night, and while some moments were cringe worthy I have to say that there are definite moments of honesty and moments where I have to say I'm just not sure. Maybe that's the point, there is no wrong or right, no rules, exceptions and standard cases. While we would like to believe that it is all in stone, that an arm punch by a male friend/acquaintence will always be an indicator of interest (in OM's case it was), it doesn't in the end mean a whole lot of anything, or on the other end of the spectrum a night of conversing and hug could just mean someone's nice - I know we women would love to have some kind of manual like what Justin Long character's dishes out. Instead I have to agree with Ginnifer towards the end - sometimes it's just about being out there, heart on your sleeve and passionate - you love and lose enough at some point you're going to win. Maybe that's my mantra for this new year, the winning will happen, just don't get caught in the willing it part.

Happy Birthday Marilyn and all the others...

The Things We Think and Do

Yesterday started out with the best of intentions - take the Subway to Ground Zero, see the financial district and so on and so forth. However the WTC stop was though marked accessible was not, so we back tracked and found ourselves in Greenwich Village and NYU territory. I have to say I always believed that I didn't need the "university experience," that I didn't need to rush and all that, and while I still don't want anything to do with the Greeks, I do want is move here, settle in the land of hunky single docs and get my masters degree in something ethical enough to settle out my lusting eye and penchant for dresses from Greenwich shops. Who knows my life could change a lot between here and then - the then being when I finish my current degree. And while I wholly doubt that I will not be finding myself over on this side of the world, given that a whole lot as occurred thus far in my life, I'm not going to rule it out. So on that note, I'm off to find my Mr Big Part Deux in Central Park, enjoy the sun and look on in shame, pain and lust at the runners wanting so eagerly to be out there but given the miles I'm putting on my feet this week, I think I'm going to have to put that on hold until I'm back home.

So It's Like the Worst Kept Secret

But I've done a hell of a lot of therapy in the last year, and what did I get out of it, or more specifically what am I getting out of it, a potty mouth. Yes apparently I swear more these days and I also indulge in other healthy past-times too - desserts and shoes. Yes I have come to the land of beautiful people and beautiful shoes and since I'm not prepared to do whatever it takes to cram a wealthy Midtown single gent in my suitcase or however I would get him home, I've decided to purchase some shoes. Some shoes to remind me that I can feel beautiful and sexy and I don't care if anyone else thinks that I am. Because between Victoria and me I know that from my head to my toes and everywhere in between the woman I am is beautiful.

Shoes!! Oh how I do love thee, and note to any future someone special - I'm an 8, and the higher the heel and more luxurious the leather, the better...

I Wanna Be a Showgirl

Or so Katy Perry made me think. Doesn't it all look lovely? Well I know it's not lovely, they don't get to wear all that silver glitter eye shadow anyways. But it made me wonder, how'd I get here? I mean not that being a showgirl was an option for me, but given that I have a "I hate my job and you can all screw yourselves" kind of job right now according to J, what went wrong? I can't seem to get a guy with an education and a backbone, they seem inversely proportional these days, until you get to a certain education level and then yes they are directly proportional once again. But those men, those men want something else all together, and well I don't run in the Bunny kind of circles, nor do you ladies. Sooooo, back to the point, I am happy with many aspects of my life, I would not necessarily change my degree and all that jazz, but the issue is more so, how do I change my future?

Online dating? Been there and done that - and while it works for some, I think it's just not for me.
Speed dating? Bwahahaha, sorry it may work for some, but it's like speed interviewing, when all I want to know in those brief few moments is the same thing: University education? Drugs? Alcohol? Criminal Record? Pets? Children?

Education no matter what it is says I can jump through a societal hoop, and maybe you'll jump through another societal hoop - like RESPONSIBILITY.
Drugs,yes I know it's Vancouver and my landlord is down with the pot usage, but I'm not, sorry
Alcohol, my sweet lova, it's all fine and good until some orders the shots, or drinks Canadian...
Criminal Record, well you'd think that's a self explanatory one
Pets - can be good and bad, shows some level of responsibility
Children - I want them, you can keep your dogs and your bro's but this ho wants some little ones...

Simple no? Apparently it's actually scary.

So then no online, no speed dating, any guys who are circulating in the friend pool are either not datable, sorry Josh, taken, or unlabelable - OM. And so there we are waiting for someone somewhere to come crashing into us.

According to a Reliable Source

According to the Globe and Mail, it is acceptable, in fact actually encouraged for women to ask men out. Have we gone so ass backwards we have to worry about that now? Next thing I'm going to be the one buying the flowers and the lingerie for myself. Oh wait I have to do that already, so I guess I'm not really having to change anything, but still! Seriously buck up all of you single men out there, while I would like to ask you out, curious things start to happen like with OM, y'all get all scared and worked up after the fact, like your the girls and I'm the guy and well honey that there should not be happening. So while I would like to ask AB to go to the gallery and maybe look a little more intensely at patient boy, I'm not going to, nope you can just stay there single until it means enough to you to get off your ass and change the situation.

So OM, AB and anyone else while you're debating that I have another paper to write and a vay-cay to pack for where who knows what will happen...

There goes the neighbourhood

and whatever possibility there was of a relationship. OM and his ex had a chat about their status, turns out she dropped him like a hot potato or something and has a new man. So OM who's spent the better part of at least two months pineing for her now has it as clear as day it's not going happen. Ouch. So how do I know this? I'm the crying shoulder apparently. Ouch. Yes I've been officially religated to female friend status, I've been defeminized or whatever. Now, dear readers I did think that I could f*ck with the situation and play up the rescuerer roll and get whatever I could get out of that, but really? For one we know it's not going to go down like that - I'll nurse him back to happiness and he'll move on and I'll have one hell of a broken heart... um no I'm too old for trying any of that bs. So there we go - he sailed the dock away from the ship somehow... I wasn't expecting that.

Just in case you're all wondering I even said I won't be the shoulder to cry on because it's not fair for me... wow sometimes even though it is right, the adult voice in me sounds so foreign.

A country song for all the broken hearted ones out there...

It's a hop skip and a few martini's to the next one...

I was awake for two hours this morning - J can verify this as I returned an email from my Crackberry at 4 something. I was awake with the questions of what does this all mean and where do we go from here? Really do I have ta, really do I have ta start cycle all over again because let's be honest it's a calculated or uncalculated risk every freaking time. Even worse when you think that there are like 3 general categories of men... yes I am aware there are subsets within the groups

1. Skeezy drunk dude type - and not always drunk, but always skeezy - the kind that need to be treated by some kind of specialised hazmat team.

2. Nice but eww boys. These are the ones most of us get stuck on, stuck with or something else stuck... Of these I have had Dr. Boy, Lawyer Boy, I play a guitar boy and OM (MBA boy) and no I don't think any of their actions are representative of their professions. I am sure I could even put my ex-fiance in there too while we are at it. They are those who have so much baggage that well you might as well give up while your ahead. They're the kind that lurve you instead of loving you despite the length of the relationship. They're clean on the outside but as malfunctioning and diseased as boy #1.

3. Nice boys you either don't want to date or can't figure out how to get it to a dating relationship. Mr. I work for a computer company and love action figures was great despite the moniker - but I was not going to be with, and AB I don't know how to get a functional friendship out of the whole thing nevermind a freaking date so that dies here and now I guess...

Type 3 boys are perfect marriage material - they're the ones who due to some stroke of luck have their hormones on the back burner for just long enough to get a decent idea of who you are - which of course leads to them sort of wanting to know you - their brains are able to channel that the whole attraction thing gets better with time or dies when you realize her favorite movie of all time is High School Musical...

But no worries plans are a brewing - they always are, no? Remember it is just a hop, skip and a few martini's and maybe a freaking awesome pair of shoes from NYC away, and maybe a dress with some rocking cleavage too... hmm no?

This song somewhat references OM... just so he knows somewhere at sometime I'm going to torture you - oh you have no idea the pain I'm going to put you through the next time you throw a waffle party...

SBucks in Hand and a Blue Dress at Barefoot Contessa

Make a day better. I have to say this current situation all of a sudden has given me flash backs to 2003/2004 when someone decided that what was on the other side seems greener and then a year later tried to hop the fence. See the problem was Mr. I Play a Guitar and Do Photography while still hot in some ways was still the same broken indecisive person, the same person who couldn't seem to truly understand me, be comfortable with me. So a year later when I gave him a shot, we fought, we fought because he believed he knew me and yet he knew nothing nor was he open to who I was. The situation with OM is the same almost word for word - I wonder if there is a book that these men are following... I think you're hot (but you wouldn't know it because I don't treat you like that) and yet there's this other person who seems to fit my missing pieces better. I am not here to: "complete" someone, to fix someone (there's therapy for that - it's good I recommend it - someone who doesn't have anything invested should be the one to deal with your emotional baggage because my baggage has been unpacked, sorted and cleaned and now I'm good to go forward), to be someones arm candy, to be anything but whoever I am growing into and if I need to I will tattoo that too on my body while I'm getting the rest of my lower back done.

So CC, J and N while three of us are still single I think we've all come to this place and likely will again and again, when it's right it will be right and the rest of the time while they just continue to disappoint we should by no means lower our standards - ya hear!!!

Just so you know

I have this email in my inbox from a person, and it's enough for me to forget my password to log in to the blog, but I feel like I must blog before I read it, I must remind myself why regardless of what the content is that I am going to be the one in charge of the result. This is what I get for being all brave, phish, his silence was SO much easier - I could believe he was a complete tool and now I don't know, I am sure he is... Don't I get the option of calling a friend? A lifeline? A email pre-reader, hey the middle ages spurned the success and or demise of food tasters - there could be a market for email readers. (Deep breath) I am not my relationships, I am me - a person who can define herself and support herself - someone who loves Wide Sargasso Sea almost as much as Jane Eyre, someone who knows vegan cupcakes are better and Chuck and Blaire are so perfectly wrong for each other. I realized walking home along the Drive last night that single or with someone the smell of the lilacs are still beautiful. The beauty in my life will not change with or without a person, whoever the pain can.

I read it and realized something - he is a tool, but well let's be honest he's somewhat of a sane tool - he saved his ass from certain death. So one more in the graveyard and onwards - yikes I'm killing them off left, right and center, the last man standing wins I guess.

I want to know how

I got a quicker more thought out response (and a friend informal movie date) from AB and nothing from OM...riddle me that one readers.


Walk Away - Kelly Clarkson

Train Lethargy

Okay so I've written this blog 3 times over and I've decided to scrap it each time and share instead a momentary chuckle from the 50's. So I don't know who this person was - in other words if I did get a name I sure don't remember it, but well he still left an indelible impression. He entered AB and my conversation around the early/middle part of the night - fair enough, I can't even remember how that happened - we talked Youtube and Rocky and something else, and then after I was already getting creepy vibes, I get introduced to his girlfriend - this frail looking, though beautiful, but likely not too self assured girl - whom he proceeds to patronize in front of me. I'm not sure how mocking your girlfriend, nameless girlfriend works in your favor. That wasn't the last time he chose to mock her and her "lame friends." At the end of the night, slightly intoxicated and high the creep vibe came back when he once again injected himself into the conversation.

I had to laugh at it all though to be honest it kind of made me want to slap him. He was about my brother's age if I can guess based on the living at home and the very young looking girlfriend, so even more so, where do you get off thinking that you have endeared yourself in anyway - you're likely chocked full of STI wonderfulness - since I doubt you're faithful, never mind the fact that when a relatively sober (one nursed Tom Collins) is picking up the creepy vibe from an evidently impaired individual - it sure makes you feel lucky, don't it?

Pre Writing

I have a paper to write on my lunch break which apparently is now, and I have an email that needs to be sent, but well as much as I was able to get it completely perfect in my brain last night while I was awake for 3 hours dealing with the effects of this round of drugs I'm on. Right now words fail me and I am tempted to just go for it - screw making it coy and a literary work on par with trashy fem lit.

OM,

I realize that this might seem a little blunt, but well I think that's the only way to go given the current situation. While I am fine with waiting for you to feel emotionally/mentally ready to go on a "date date," I am not fine with waiting for something that seems is not going to happen. So here's the deal you're either interested, or you're waiting to see if there is something better on the horizon. There might be someone better, someone who can't cook, someone who is okay with being part of the harem, someone who isn't tattooed and someone who it's going to expect you to get your shit together. You're free to choose, that's the wonderful thing about life - I just want to get that out there before I choose a new direction for myself.

Thanks,

S&P

I have to say writing while listening to Kelly is likely not the best idea, and I know it sounds a little angry, but I feel like given Saturday that I have no intention of even going ahead with any of this, it's all complete b*llsh*t. Either you're willing to pursue me or you're just stringing me along. So don't let me stop you - because I don't think I'm going to give you a second thought if anyone else steps up.

Photo: Fight between the city girl and the country boy, you don't know how appropriate that is: http://www.flickr.com/photos/idathue/2919129508/

50's Have Come and Gone

After getting all tarted up a la Elizabeth Taylor, I spent the entire evening talking to ABIWUOCDIAH (Artistic Boy I Would Under other Circumstances Date in a Heartbeat) and enjoyed every minute of it. What I didn't enjoy was the response when asked how I knew our host - knowing OM is apparently one of those things - he's tolerated, excessive flirt that most of the women know will manhandle them, flirt with them or even possibly have dated his way through their social group. The other thing I didn't appreciate was the rampant heart rate that appeared when he appeared. I felt like yelling at myself, what the hell, why do you feel this way still, after all of this. And so the night in the end went down like this, to use a score card.

S&P = 2 a full evening of awesome convo with ABIWUOCDIAH and looked fabulous

ABIWUOCDIAH - 2 for being plain awesome - helping me up off the couch, warming me outside, and trying to share his birthday cake with me (too much dairy I had to refuse), nevermind the great conversation

OM - 0 for the odd gropey hug, the flirting with everyone but me, the reaction of the girls - but while that should put him in the negative, but gosh darn it he was hot.

Oy Vay

You know I didn't think I would ever come to this kind of ephiphany at this age about someone I was potentially interested in, but you know what I think this song suits OM, eh? (sweet another regional slang word, so on a roll today)

It's like Bloody Hell, Y'all

I was going to try and mix one more slang reference in there, but oh well. My buses didn't show up this morning, I was without coffee and at the end of it all I realized I am way way too busy to have a man in my life, it's that or get rid of running - one keeps me sane and healthy, the other one makes me feel prone to violent outbursts. So for the near future I'm going to sniffing the library dust, and the pollen and leaving OM to get his life sorted out. In the end I doubt the sorting will help much but who knows. I'm not going to hold my breath.

How's life for you?

Update: I have a new love, my poli sci class - ahh to be in the warm embrace of feminism journals and UN reports and statistics again... to make this day even better I'm off to buy some new paper, some post it's and a few folders. Tonight I'll clear off more shelf space - oh lordy this is almost better than a date, actually at the risk of staying single for life, it is better. I love to write, and even more about things I'm passionate about... so tootles OM until the books start to overwhelm me, by then maybe you'll have things figured out.

I wonder if you ever

Get used to this feeling? Or any of the feelings around relationships? And while yes I guess I'm referencing all those happy feelings, I am specifically in this moment talking about that old as ways of communicating feeling issue. Even back when Tweets were just a glimmer in some super computer's eye and those too were a glimmer in some silicon's eye - girls, ladies, women waited to be called, written, talked to or whatever mode of communication was the accepted norm and of course the easiest for the man involved. So me? I'm waiting for an email, I've ruled out a text or a phone call despite the fact that yes OM does have the ability to do so. It's going to be fast approaching 48 hrs, and yes while granted I guess I shouldn't care, I do. It's a feeling you don't get used to, the slow rejection. Maybe I'm really a girl because I like to talk it out, to know the hows and whys and sometimes that's not an option. In this case I want to know what the hell is going through his lovely bald head. Yes, No, Not Now, She's kind of odd (Yes I am, I remember an ex saying I am as complex as a 8 sided Rubik cube), OMG she's got a tattoo - I wonder where it is and what it is of (You'll see it in due time, most of the world has), I don't think there is chemistry (Humph! I'll show you chemistry just hand me the vodka), I can't believe I didn't kiss her on Saturday (I can't believe you didn't either for the record). I just wish honestly that I could get a shot to show me - you know on my terms - cook for him or do as I did with BIWHMBHWTMK (Boy I would have married but he wasn't the marrying kind), we spent an entire day doing what I wanted and in the end he chose the movie... I can tell you I know he wanted to kiss me that day, again he didn't either... damn it. Oh well he's got a girl and a little boy and as happy as a clam or something like that. Where were we, feelings - so no hopes high here.

The 50's are approaching...

I hate time travel, it messes with your sleep schedule more than regular travel. I have a 50's party to attend on Saturday, really because OM and a swag load of other potentials are there... now big problem. One I'm poor - I'm not going to buy a 50's a la Grease dress for over 100 on the vintage sites because I'm apparently a large busted, large waisted gal compared to those Olivia Newton John types. So what then - curse my curves or go all Marilyn/Audrey/Dita (our semi modern 40/50's interpreter). So the dress above in black is what I have to work with - it's closer to my knees and more curvy looking. So then, I'm not wearing pumps primarily because I would rather not, I'm wearing a Orsay heel - black - not quite 50's then again I don't what isn't 50's when it comes to shoes.

Hair and makeup will follow in this vein:

The dress will be accompanied with pearl stud earrings, and possibly a pearl necklace. I have yet to decide if I'm going to add a ribbon belt and accent it with a broach instead or something like that. I would like to as I Freudian slipped this week to AR (Aussie Roommate) be like a naughty housewife. I've roughly got Marilyn's body but not her swagger or wardrobe... I'm worried I'm in the end way out sexing the entire party and not looking iconically like anyone... HELP

Good Gracious

If you've watched the full episode you'll understand me when I say - I don't know if I need the heat on in my office right now... so not what I should be watching given the state of affairs.

It worked the last time

Okay ladies we need to combine our collective efforts to get to the bottom to the OM (he so deserves a better nickname - I'm open to suggestions) situation.

So here are the facts - we had a mediocre date date, but it wasn't that, so was it a good friend date - on comparisons I would say it had a heavy dose of AWKWARD - I mean did we think it would be anything but - it's like an interview for an undefined job - the position may or may not be open and criteria are sketchy at best.

Dear OM (or new nickname - tbd),

Saturday was great, vegan waffles (which you should totally have taken credit for choosing - serious you missed big brownie points), coffee, cherry blossoms, spring rain and everything that could have been swooningly romantic. And yet despite the fact that I felt like I verbal diaherria and was apparently speachless post "date" when I called to give an update to my eagerly awaiting friends. I wonder what happened? I guess maybe I should try a less literary approach.
What I know:
1.I know that you are just coming off a relationship.
2.I know that you have expressed that you do not wish this to be a rebound.
3.I know that these things - rebound periods are ill defined - for some there is a set grieving period, for others it depends on the context of the previous relationship. In your case I don't need to know details, time frames or anything like that.

What I want you to know:
1. You get to decide where this goes - so based on the previous statement since you are the person on the rebound, you get to say Go, and the whole if and when of Go is for you to determine and lead the way.
2. I am going to give you the space to feel like you can come to decision apart from my influence.
3. I am still interested in seeing if we can get over some of awkward parts of Saturday which I am going to attribute to clash of the definition of the activity and some of the emotions involved.
4. Yes I was engaged -scary huh, that ended a long time ago and we could hash through all that now, but I guess I'm just going to leave it at that, it was a mistake, I have no issue taking responsibilities for my mistakes be them small like choosing the wrong shoes for an event, to choosing the very wrong person to get engaged to.

Lastly this where you let me know whatever you want:

Thanks, S&P

Non-Date Results

Well I guess what happens at the end of a non-date is as ill defined as a "non-date." For some bizarre very S&P reason I have spent the afternoon in this haze of ___, call it confusion, apathy, hurt and conscious emotional distance. I know that OM is not ready to date, and yet OM is physically interested (sorry I don't know how else to say that) and me? Me? Well I'm unsure in that while I am "physically interested" I don't know how emotionally invested I would like to be. It's not a place of any type of security. Who knows the when, where and whatever whenever he decides, if he decides to move forward.

In the end he may not even have the basic short list of requirements. I am not talking about those he must love Krispy Creme doughnuts and Dirty Dancing "requirements." I am actually talking about: religion, kids and marriage - not in that order. But really I think that's what it comes down to at this age - do we believe the same thing (roughly), do we have the same view on kids (yay or nay) and do you have any intention of getting married. Because in the end if it's no to the kids and the ring then what in sam hell am I doing hauling my tired ass out of bed at 7am on a Saturday to see you? But of course you can't ask those questions on a non-date. No, on a non-date you dance around the hormones, the pheromones and the oh no's and rather awkwardly converse. flirt and leave poor S&P feeling well sad. Sorry folks I thought I would be excited but rather I'm just a little confused and sad. I'm sad that this couldn't be clearer, that I'm sitting in limbo and I'm not really sure what to do with this mixed bag of emotions. Those thoughts like, would he even date date me or is there really just platonic feelings? Am I waiting for something that will never come.

Nevermind the fact that despite how complimentary we are, I just wonder what the next step is. I know that my door isn't being knocked down by Barista boy or anyone else, but I guess I feel like this should be clearer.

Sure I can give you a run down of the non-date: hug, vegan waffles (which I have to say was awesome), coffee, photo, flowers (not for me - around us), views, conversation, and well a somewhat end to the date, sorry the non-date. Then again what are my options - a hug to further awkward the communication, or even worse (or better) a kiss. Hey I wouldn't have minded but to be honest I think it would have spelled disaster, then again I wonder if this whole being friends who are interested in each other thing could spell disaster two. Put two people with conflicting feelings and propriety together long enough and someone ditches the propriety and it all implodes emotionally.

Maybe in the end Kelly's right, "boys will be boys they don't want to define it"

Oh Why, Oh Why

Why does OM cause me to have verbal diarrhea? Really folks, why and even worse I'm all chirpy and flirty when I email him. I had that realization this morning - who the hell sends those emails because last time I checked I don't do that, or do I? Sure maybe I am one to drop post ironic, outdated phrases, but all like he, he and giggle giggle like responses? I've officially lost myself, the old self to the real girly girl within or something like that or not. I'm not sure. How does it work to be all excited, and yet terrified and well excited again to have a friend date tomorrow? Sure I can say that the bubbly balloon will either collapse in on it's exhausted self tomorrow morning, or burst when we don't have a witty banter or maybe it will just stay like it is now, comfortable, fun and yet wholly disconcerting that I can't seem to close my mouth. That I can't find a way to not smile and be happy that well this day is fast approaching... I don't know folks but I think I need to be committed, sedated and then one day when the baristas weeping my fate die, be kissed by a self assured geek on a vintage bike and we ride of into the sunrise or something like that.

To add a little sugar to your Friday - all my loves - 80's music, ballet and cute sappiness


Oh help me, return me to bitter singledom please, life was less embarassing and unassured there: