Wednesday, June 30

Day 10069: Divinity 101…


“You have to think about your future…”

The more I think about it, the more I think that planning for the future is a waste of time. Sure, you can plan for retirement and hope that your lifestyle allows you to live to the sweet old age of 65. Or you can plan for that humongous $2 million house you’d like to by in X number of years. But, more often than not, even the best laid plans fail to bear fruit. You’ll have a heart attack and die at the age of 45 thus, never even getting close to early retirement or your investment in that nice safe stock crashes and burns because the CEO and the CFO ran off to the Caymans with a cool $1 billion in their greedy little paws, and each other’s wives to boot.

Your past determines your future. Every action or reaction that occurs now causes something to happen in the future. It's a big chain reaction. So what if you make a mistake? You learn from your mistakes, other people learn from your mistakes… you learn from other people’s mistakes – that is how the world works. It’s one big cycle of recycled history. Though not necessarily your history, but a mismatch of someone else’s history, for sure.

If you’re constantly thinking about the future, reacting only on how each action will change or alter your future and never really living for the present, then are you really living? You can spend hours a day reading up on stocks, planning what to do when you strike it rich – the things you’ll buy, the places you’ll see. But what about the things you can do now – take some time to treasure the people around you… You can buy that perfect dream house now, and be gloriously happy but then shit happens and you lose your job. What to do then? What about the future? What future?

Today’s fortune cookie… “The best prophet of the future is the past…”

Friday, June 25

Day 10065: Traumatized...


Telephone conversation with my mother today:

Mom: So what are you doing this weekend?
Me: going to Hamilton...
Mom: When are you coming back?
Me: don't know... Sunday maybe? *thinking about the bonfire we're having Saturday night*
Mom: You're staying there the whole weekend?
Me: Yeah, I guess so... *crap! what have I just done?!!*
Mom: So are the two of you together now or what?
Me: ummm...no... yes... I don't know... I guess so... *how the hell do I get out of this mess?*
pause...silence...pause
Mom: Are you on birth control pills?
Me: NO!!!
Mom: I want you to be safe. You know you were feeling nauseous for the past month...
Me: No, it's not like that! I'm just allergic to something... Allergies... I just finished my... ummm...
Mom: We need to talk about this when you get back.
Me: Um, maybe. *Oh $#@%$#!!!!*

Telephone conversation with Triscuit:

Me: You know how wierd stuff happens to me every day? I'm so traumatized...
Him: Why? What happened today? *moving stuff in the background...*
Me: *whisper* My MOM asked if I was on birth control...
Him: *whisper* What? I can't hear you...
Me: *louder whisper* MY MOM ASKED IF I WAS ON BIRTH CONTROL PILLS...
Him: Ha-ha! That's pretty funny! Don't you talk about this stuff with your mother?
Me: Ummm... what do you think?
Him: Oh yeah... I guess not. That's still pretty funny... Ha-ha...
Me: She wants to talk about it...
Him: Good luck...

Wednesday, June 23

Day 10063 1/2: I'm Tripping...


Typical J-ism... I can't go through ONE day without tripping on something. Yesterday, I was tripping over my left foot all day - left rubber skid marks on the floor where ever I went.

Today...well... let's just say, thank God for nylons (no blood, just bruises...). Tripped going UP the escalator on the way to work. Holding a chai latte in one hand, a sausage mcmuffin, book and purse in the other, running up the escalator and somehow stubbed a toe or caught a heel - whatever. Down I go, scrape my thigh on the metal escalator teeth, latte splashes up the stupid little lid hole, splashes me right in the face, totally coating my glasses (and only my glasses). Blind and disoriented from pain, I realize that one of my shoes has fallen off. So still holding my latte and everything else, on my hands and knees, my left foot searches blindly for my lost shoe... I finally find it, put it back on and saunter casually (and still blindly) up the rest of the way...

If only I had a camera... oh wait... I'm sure Eaton Centre security is having a laugh-fest over that one... play, laugh, rewind... play, laugh, rewind...

I get sooo close to being girlie-girl and something like this has to happen.

*****************

On a better note... Picnic on the living room floor with Triscuit and his mom. Strawberry meringue birthday cake and a bottle of PJ to celebrate finalizing the beach house at last!!! It was great... :)

Day 10063: The Skinny on the Sista


I have been remiss, dear Sista. In my quest to keep you up-to-date on my going ons, I have neglected to talk about us… so here goes… ode to Sista…

Sista is beautiful. She’s lovely inside and out. She’s got the salsa moves, the surfer babe moves, and the boarder chick moves. She’s down to earth, glamorous and incredibly brilliant. She’s everything that I’m not, and everything that I want to be. Except the salsa… that’s 100% hers.

We didn’t always get along – typical sibling rivalries and jealousies. Little things, minute hatreds, occasional contempts. Things that drove us completely up the wall back then, and yet, I wouldn’t be able to remember a single example now if my life depended in it. When riled, she liked to throw things though. I think my bedroom wall still bears the mark of an orange pencil-crayon. But fair is fair… I did try to chop of her finger with a butter knife one cold, blustery winter day… and plot to kill her on numerous of occasions when she pissed me off.

But we got through our adolescence and moved on to adulthood. She was like the older sister in many ways – broke down the barriers, pushed the envelope, toed the line. I was happy being nobody… I really didn’t exist until three years ago. I dreamt through high school, and slept through university. Consciousness for me, came at the age of 24. She was the independent rebel from day one.

We spent the past three years doing almost everything together. She was my first climbing partner, the Duckie’s first pacer and even managed to drag me out to salsa classes on the very, very, extremely rare occasion. We even passed the silly CA exams together… though she did much, much better than I did (on my third time around).

Then she moved - first to Texas and then to Cali. For work, she said…to get away. So she packed up and moved with less than a week’s notice, flying home only on the rare occasion… starting a new life, new friends, the works. My gosh she’s brave. I had dreamt about it for years, gotten only so far as to start looking for a job on the West Coast, but I never followed through. And still, I don’t think I’d have the guts to.

First she said nine months, and now she’ll be gone a year and a half. Time flies. It feels like yesterday that we drove her to the airport and waved goodbye as she went into Immigrations and tried to get a T1 Visa on a Saturday morning… I was a wee bit hung over from our Halloween/Going Away party the night before. You can’t really tell from the pictures though. And yeah, I went on a pub crawl that day to drink my sorrows away…

I miss her. Miss talking to her at night and asking for boy advice. Miss stumbling out of my bed at three in the morning on a Tuesday when the dog paws at my door because she wants to go say Hi to her Yee-Yee who just got home from salsa. Miss our spur of the moment picnics… I hate coming home to an empty house – always have. And that three hour time difference – makes it really hard to talk on the phone every night like I want to, but can’t seem to manage.

She’s having the time of her life – working hard, catching the swells of the Pacifica. I’m admittedly a wee bit jealous – who wouldn’t be… sweet deal, great weather, new friends, fancy schmancy new car every couple of weeks. Fact is, even though she has it great, everyone has their own lives... life goes on. I’m still climbing, still dragonboating, still snowboarding – still doing the things we used to do together. Just doing it with other people, okay… really, doing it with Triscuit who’s become in a way, a surrogate best friend (but in a completely different way, of course).

Sure, I wish she was here – wish she’d come home more often… oh wait… I mean, wish I could go visit her more often. But this is good for her, and good for me, too. We’re experiencing different things and growing up as individuals. But yeah… the teleport idea is a good one… that way I could hop into the teleporter, catch some waves in shark infested waters and be back for work Monday morning… if only.

Tuesday, June 22

Day 10062: Teeny bopper movies make me cry…


My wedding day will be one of the happiest and saddest days of my life. There will be no traditional father-daughter dance. There may not even be anyone to walk me down the aisle. And no matter how much I’ll be smiling and laughing on the outside, there will be a little part of me inside that’ll be crying for the what-should-have-beens.

He should have been there to see me get married, should have been there to hold his grandchildren. Darn, he should be here now to add his disapproval of Triscuit to my mother’s…add his two cents, even though really it wouldn’t make much of a difference. We should have at least danced one dance together sometime during our lives, though we might have once-upon-a-time when I was but a babe, standing on his feet maybe. But I can’t remember anymore. And it makes me cry a little every time I think about it.

He wasn’t there at my graduations. He wasn’t there to see that I wasn’t really as hopeless as I appeared to be, and that I finally pulled myself together to make something out of my life. He wasn’t there this past weekend when our dragonboat caught up in the last few meters to place third in the division finals… less than 5 hundredths of a second behind the second place team, and less than a second behind the first place team.

And the worse of it all, is that I’m not sure he even knows.

I spent the night watching What a Girl Wants. A cheesy, little teeny bopper movie - of the variety that I love. Sweet, not really all that innocent, but cute. And I sobbed through it. Thinking, and knowing that at least the girl has a chance to see her father again, and to actually spend time with him. Today, tomorrow and the next day. Whereas I will never be able to hear his voice, see him smile, or hug him again.

I would give anything, move heaven and earth to have just five minutes with my dad again. Hell… ten seconds even. I’m not greedy.

Happy belated Father's Day, Daddy... I miss you...

:*(

Monday, June 21

Day 10061: Tired and Unmotivated...


Ok, people. I'm tired, unmotivated, and really have nothing left to say anymore. So, give a shout out and tell me which ones of my deepest, darkest secrets you want to know, or what topic you'd like me to rant about, 'cuz I'm fresh outta ideas. (and apparently, have been for a while)

... comments anyone? ... hello???

Thursday, June 17

Day 10058: Hidden Gems...


I have done nothing for the past few weeks except read. Actually, let me clarify this. I have done nothing on the subway for the past few weeks except read. It's the perfect place - there is nothing else to do, no distractions, everyone else around you is doing it, and a book makes for a good instrument to slap someone across the face should they "accidentally" get a little too handsy.

After raiding the storage locker for Sista's supply of books (mine are as usual, typically, unsubway worthy of course), I've been on a somewhat inspirational kick. Books written with the purpose of inspiring me to reach my full potential, telling me to dare to dream, and to be who I want to be, or how to be rich beyond my deepest desires. Books that tell me what to aim for, who to know, and how to sell my soul to the devil. Books, that when you dig a little deeper are full of the same message over, and over and sometimes can be a little full of crap as well. Books by authors that you have never heard of, but their one paragraph blurb sounds interesting and the picture looks rich/successful/stupendously wonderful...

They sell, and people buy them over and over - just with a different cover, and maybe a slightly different name. People hoping that maybe this will be the hidden gem amongst the box of fakes - that this will be the book that touches their life and changes their soul and be that one catalyst that inspires them to be someone else.

But, they're great fun! Fun to read, fun to laugh at and BONUS... they make you look smart and insightful to a car full of people who don't really care. So forget who sold what Ferrari, or who talked to who on what day - live life to the fullest and do your damnest to make sure that you don't die with regrets. No should'ves, would'ves, could'ves... just do it...

Now, it's on to chick-lit - drama queens and shopaholics - more "true" stories of... and other literary crap... it's fun, funny, uplifting and inspirational... what more could a girl possibly want.

*****

Spent the evening in the Ham last night pulling off wallpaper and plier-ing staples and nails out of the floor. Life does not get better than that! Fail to understand, though, why it took only 45 minutes to get there with rush hour traffic, but over hour to get home in the middle of the night... damn 401 construction traffic... 'course it didn't help either that I got off at Dixie and drove around in circles for a while...

Monday, June 14

Day 10055: Dear me...


The cable went out, the Internet died... no one was home and if they were, they weren't picking up the phone. I'm bored, all alone save for the sleeping dog, and listening to Gladiator in the background because I'm too impatient to sit and watch it again. It was the first dvd I ever bought - even before I had a dvd player... how strange. I don't even really like that movie. Hopefully I did back then.

The big b-day surprise for Triscuit was fantastic. I should have realized that he IS the MOST unobservant person in the world - seeing as how I had the Prince tickets on the dining room table in plain view for two weeks... wrapping is wasted on him - he's just happy to have received a box (with nothing in it...). Silly boy. Silly, silly boy... but he's my silly boy.

... dear me... I think I've fallen for him... crap.

Wednesday, June 9

Day 10050: One year...


One year ago, I sent out an email offering friendship. Nothing more. Didn't want anything, didn't hope for anything. A shoulder to cry on, an ear to listen - no comments to be made.

A lot has happened in a year. I've grown a lot. Become a lot more "worldly"... have experienced the goods and the bads, and I am the better for it.

No regrets. Ever.

Tuesday, June 8

Day 10049: Hiccups...


Have I ever mentioned that I hiccupped once for three weeks straight... no joke - drove everyone around me absolutely bonkers! Even now, sometimes I'll let out a really loud/weird sounding hiccup - just one though!

It's funny how life is so unscripted. Even the best laid plans can go awry. But as the saying goes, if life gives you a lemon, make sure you squeeze the heck out of the lemon before you throw it right back in his face...

So yesterday there were grandiose plans of huge bonfire beach parties and what not... now subdued house party in a place where I really should not be throwing a party... my momma's house - she's off to Cali to visit the Sista for the next couple of weeks. God help me if she finds out.

:)

Monday, June 7

Day 10048: Did I ever mention that I hate...


I hate planning things. I hate it, loathe it, absolutely detest it. I suck at it. I'm just plain no good at it.

I constantly look to others for "suggestions" or "ideas" but really, the truth is, I'm looking for approval. Approval that yeah, all the effort that I'm putting in is good, and that everyone will have enough to eat and that everyone will have a good time.

I stress about it. Obsess about it... rave about it to anyone who will listen. And when the day comes, I'm so apathetic about it, that it really was a waste of time and energy to have even thought about it...

That said. I'm trying to organize Triscuit's surprise b-day party. I want it to be good - something that he'll remember for a long time to come. Yeah, maybe the added stress is good for me...

Thursday, June 3

Day 10044: Downtown... part 2


...crowded subway, standing near the door, one guy's elbow already in my face. Door opens, guy squeezes in. Door shuts. Guy is pretty much pressed up against my back. I inch forward, to give him more space... subway lurches, guy's still pressed up against me. I guess he needs more space. I inch forward as much as I can - woman next to me is only four inches from my face.

... next stop people shift. I dodge the door people and head towards the middle of the car - he follows. People start streaming in. Everyone is packed in like a good dim sum restaurant on a saturday morning. This time, I end up in an even more precarious situation - I'm forced to semi lean over the woman sitting in front of me, my arm is braced against the pole so that everytime the train stops or start, I end up pushing against the pole to stay up. The guy next to me - I've already stepped on him twice. the woman in front of me is glaring at me because I keep hitting her newspaper with my book. and still I feel the guy pressed up against me.

Sure. It's a crowded subway, things like this happen. I try to shift my bag so it's between us. Every time I shift, he apologizes. No big deal, I guess... it's rush hour, it happens. I step forward so that my foot is even between the feet of the guy next to me. I've tried everything. Then it happened... the guy touched my bum. The first time, I tried to move away again and he apologized. No biggie - just an accident right? Lurch of the subway, lost his balance - these things happen. It keeps happening. We're so close now, I can't even turn around and glare at him. A couple more stops come and go - people cram in some more... no one gets off... the guy presses up against me even more - I'm already off balance... there's no where to go... he's not even making any effort to hide it now - full cuppage... just short of grabbing... I can't go anywhere... my mind is blank, don't know what to say...

... next stop Bloor - tons of people start streaming by - I practically run to the other end of the train - thank god he didn't follow.

I HATE the subway.

Tuesday, June 1

Day 10042: Downtown...


Walking along Front Street on the way to the climbing gym...
Punk-ass kid: Hey lady, can I come home with you?
Me: *imperceptibly shaking my head*
Punk-ass kid: C'mon, I'll tickle you good...

God help me, it made me laugh...