I'm tired.
Baby's mother made me pink and white slippers and, for the first time in days, my toes are warm!
The W chapter is closed. I finally got my book back this afternoon.
The wedding might be off. I'm indifferent and that makes me a terrible person.
I bought shoes. Instead of tires. That makes me an irresponsible person.
Pilates class has been moved to 6 pm. Which will make it that much harder to get to class every week.
I might actually be too tired to stay up past midnight to watch the season premiere of Chuck. That makes me lame. And old. And decrepit.
Monday, September 29, 2008
Sunday, September 28, 2008
Pour que tu m'aimes encore
I have a new favourite Celine Dion song! The concert was awesome. I danced and laughed and even cried. We went for dinner at the Loose Moose on Front Street before and the three martinis helped my mood a great deal. I only wish I hadn't spent half the night standing in the rain waiting for Baby and Delorean to get their car out of the Roy Thompson Hall parking lot and then walking halfway home in the rain because traffic was so damn bad. It didn't help that I left my umbrella in their car. Sigh. But nothing can ruin my mood tonight. Not even Minnesota guy hitting on me but not asking for my number. Seriously, you would think that the third time a girl returned to the bar for a drink he would have asked instead of saying "well if Celine Dion doesn't work out we'll be here". Granted, I probably should have lied when he asked which concert I was going to! I enjoyed talking to him about the restaurant business. We even ended up leaving the restaurant at the same time and both turned around and looked at each other as we walked away from each other down the sidewalk. If only...
I also have a Wiggles update. After leaving him a voice mail on Thursday afternoon reminding him to please return my book, he sent me an email this morning letting me know that he had unintentionally deleted my email containing my address. My bitchy response to him went something along the lines of "Wow, Wiggles, serious case of premature deletion hey? I wouldn't expect that to be a problem at your age."
Oh yes, I also had mind-blowing sex with Grey last night. And I stayed over because I was ridiculously high and parked at the dark and scary outside parking lot. He's at a wedding in London tonight. At one point when I was on top (not that that's relevant at all) I fantasized about him and a peachy, pouffy bridesmaid in the coat room. It's probably a good thing I didn't drive home last night!
I also have a Wiggles update. After leaving him a voice mail on Thursday afternoon reminding him to please return my book, he sent me an email this morning letting me know that he had unintentionally deleted my email containing my address. My bitchy response to him went something along the lines of "Wow, Wiggles, serious case of premature deletion hey? I wouldn't expect that to be a problem at your age."
Oh yes, I also had mind-blowing sex with Grey last night. And I stayed over because I was ridiculously high and parked at the dark and scary outside parking lot. He's at a wedding in London tonight. At one point when I was on top (not that that's relevant at all) I fantasized about him and a peachy, pouffy bridesmaid in the coat room. It's probably a good thing I didn't drive home last night!
Thursday, September 25, 2008
Oh God. When I first started boxing back in 2002, I'm pretty sure I remember thinking I was going to die. Or puke. Or both. It turns out going back to that sport 6 years later was a bad idea. Everything hurts, including my head. I'm exhausted and, if I don't sleep tonight, I will be a wreck tomorrow. I'm considering drugs tonight. Of the ibuprofen variety. I really hope I can move in the morning. I don't think I'm going back. If I'm thinking of going back next week, somebody physically restrain me. I'm begging.
Ouch
I went to the gym this evening. Not because I want to be a skinny girl who has straight legs, a concave stomach and can fit into a size 4 dress (because, let's face it, girls who wear 0 and 2 have no boobs and I like my boobs. They're actually very nice boobs, and significantly larger than they appear to be when I'm wearing clothes. I digress). The reason I went to the gym tonight is because I went to sleep at 4 something am yesterday. It was definitely after 4.11 am because that was the time of my last facebook status update. And I know that I didn't fall asleep right away because I remember thinking "why I am lying in bed awake?" And then I didn't sleep through the night because I remember being awake at various points. Although that might have been the night before. I went to the gym because I need to sleep. I need to sleep now and I would like to get at least 8 hours and wake up before noon. I have a lot of work to do, some of which involves a client deadline. Granted said deadline is not until next Wednesday but I want to not work this weekend. It is now 1.07 am and I would like to go to sleep now. So I am going to attempt that. Because, if I don't fall asleep very soon, all I will be left with after a very intense trip to cardio camp class will be sore hips, sore knees, sore ankles and sore feet but no size 4 body. Possibly sore abs and shoulders in 24 hours but those are okay because they're good sore not achy like I'm eleventy years old and my joints are breaking down and I need some Advil or Aleve or glucosamine chondroitin. It bodes well for me that the pain is making me incoherent. Maybe it will make me sleep too.
Mother of God life is an ironic bitch! Less than 9 minutes after posting this and my leg is asleep! Am I asleep? NO! But my leg?! Asleep!! Crap.
Mother of God life is an ironic bitch! Less than 9 minutes after posting this and my leg is asleep! Am I asleep? NO! But my leg?! Asleep!! Crap.
Wednesday, September 24, 2008
Empty
A left on Monday night. It was all very hectic. I met her on Queen Street for some last minute shopping and to pick up sushi from Crispy Roll and then we went back to her place to have dinner with her parents and another friend. At 8 pm, I had to pack her suitcase. I even went through her dirty laundry. Ick. She left at 9.30 pm and I drove home the long way. She called from the airport at 11.30 pm and it was all I could do not to cry. The void is back. It is big and dark and empty. I just spent 02:04:21 on the phone with her so I suppose I shouldn't complain too much.
It has been two weeks since I emailed Captain W about the whole facebook deleting thing and I still don't have my book back. I'm debating leaving a voice mail about mid day on Thursday when I know he will be at school. It will go something like this:
"Hi Captain W. It's [me]. It's been a couple of weeks since I asked you to return my book and I still haven't heard anything. I'm assuming that the reason you haven't returned it is that you broke both your legs and that the reason you haven't let me know when you're planning to return it is... you broke both your hands? It would be good if you could get someone else, say, your brother perhaps to send me an email letting me known when the casts are coming off? It's just that it was a gift from a friend and has some sentimental value attached. Also, I need it back so I can pick out the gentlemen from the duds. Thanks."
I wake up every morning overwhelmed at having to spend another 6 months at grad school. Realistically it could be substantially less than that. But I'm scared that I'll be in debt and freezing in March, unable to afford groceries or chocolate grappy and that all of my friends will have abandoned me in my misery.
I emailed The Kid yesterday and came up with this. It might have been an epiphany.
I feel as though I should have been more productive but actually I threw together a Table of Contents and an outline for my experimental methodology section and fired those off to my supervisors. Sometimes I wonder whether thinking about my thesis counts as actually sitting at my desk working on it. Most of the time, I feel guilty that I'm just sitting and thinking and watching mindless CSI reruns instead of actually sitting here forcing myself to spout words from the ends of my finger tips. But I'm starting to realize that's a major part of the writing process. I could be a lot more disciplined about my approach but I find that walking away from something and letting my subconscious work on it for a while is often much more efficient than sitting here staring at my monitor and facebook stalking my friends while pretending to work. I think the consultant mindset that requires me to produce something tangible in 15 minute increments is counterproductive to thesis-related work.
And I have a plan to turn off my conscious mind at least twice a week. Without Grey or his herbs. I'm thinking about signing up for the shoe tag fitness classes at the gym. With Cardio Camp on Monday or Wednesday and boxing on Thursday, that should be at least two nights a week that I pass out before 4 am. I went to pilates today but, although I was very sweaty, I'm not exhausted. And yoga, while fabulous, is more energizing than relaxing. I'm scared though. I haven't boxed since 2002. I wonder if I still have my wraps.
It has been two weeks since I emailed Captain W about the whole facebook deleting thing and I still don't have my book back. I'm debating leaving a voice mail about mid day on Thursday when I know he will be at school. It will go something like this:
"Hi Captain W. It's [me]. It's been a couple of weeks since I asked you to return my book and I still haven't heard anything. I'm assuming that the reason you haven't returned it is that you broke both your legs and that the reason you haven't let me know when you're planning to return it is... you broke both your hands? It would be good if you could get someone else, say, your brother perhaps to send me an email letting me known when the casts are coming off? It's just that it was a gift from a friend and has some sentimental value attached. Also, I need it back so I can pick out the gentlemen from the duds. Thanks."
I wake up every morning overwhelmed at having to spend another 6 months at grad school. Realistically it could be substantially less than that. But I'm scared that I'll be in debt and freezing in March, unable to afford groceries or chocolate grappy and that all of my friends will have abandoned me in my misery.
I emailed The Kid yesterday and came up with this. It might have been an epiphany.
I feel as though I should have been more productive but actually I threw together a Table of Contents and an outline for my experimental methodology section and fired those off to my supervisors. Sometimes I wonder whether thinking about my thesis counts as actually sitting at my desk working on it. Most of the time, I feel guilty that I'm just sitting and thinking and watching mindless CSI reruns instead of actually sitting here forcing myself to spout words from the ends of my finger tips. But I'm starting to realize that's a major part of the writing process. I could be a lot more disciplined about my approach but I find that walking away from something and letting my subconscious work on it for a while is often much more efficient than sitting here staring at my monitor and facebook stalking my friends while pretending to work. I think the consultant mindset that requires me to produce something tangible in 15 minute increments is counterproductive to thesis-related work.
And I have a plan to turn off my conscious mind at least twice a week. Without Grey or his herbs. I'm thinking about signing up for the shoe tag fitness classes at the gym. With Cardio Camp on Monday or Wednesday and boxing on Thursday, that should be at least two nights a week that I pass out before 4 am. I went to pilates today but, although I was very sweaty, I'm not exhausted. And yoga, while fabulous, is more energizing than relaxing. I'm scared though. I haven't boxed since 2002. I wonder if I still have my wraps.
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Drinking chocolate grappa sex
I had this whole rant in my head about how men are useless with words. However, it has disappeared. Partly because I'm pooped. And more because the three men that read my blog occasionally are not useless with words. So posting a rant about how men are useless with words here would be useless.
I was talking to A about all the things we have been told by men in relationships. And how useless all of those things have turned out to be. But I was lying on the couch in the dark with my feet higher than my head so those factors may have contributed to my wobbly brain.
Also, I had two drinks right before my painkiller so I could be high in addition to being exhausted. The martini was decent but OH.MY.GOD.CHOCOLATE.GRAPPA is my new FAVOURITEST.THING.EVER! It was like drinking sex.
It is more accurately known as Bottega Gianduia Grappa.
Let me be clear. This stuff is not like the horrendous creme de cacao. This was like drinking melted chocolate with flair. Imagine yourself drinking fondue from a shot glass and getting a little unexpected extra.... Yes ladies, it was sex in a shot glass!
Tomorrow morning I am going to the liquor store to buy me a bottle. Or seven. Then I am going to Home Depot to pick up light bulbs and a new faucet for the bathroom sink. I'm told that it's a great place to meet men on Sunday morning.
If I come back with CHOCOLATE GRAPPA, I will be happy. If I come back with a good looking and useful man who will replace aforementioned light bulbs and faucet, I will be ecstatic.
I keep typing CHOCOLATEGRAPPY. I must be high.
I was talking to A about all the things we have been told by men in relationships. And how useless all of those things have turned out to be. But I was lying on the couch in the dark with my feet higher than my head so those factors may have contributed to my wobbly brain.
Also, I had two drinks right before my painkiller so I could be high in addition to being exhausted. The martini was decent but OH.MY.GOD.CHOCOLATE.GRAPPA is my new FAVOURITEST.THING.EVER! It was like drinking sex.
It is more accurately known as Bottega Gianduia Grappa.
Let me be clear. This stuff is not like the horrendous creme de cacao. This was like drinking melted chocolate with flair. Imagine yourself drinking fondue from a shot glass and getting a little unexpected extra.... Yes ladies, it was sex in a shot glass!
Tomorrow morning I am going to the liquor store to buy me a bottle. Or seven. Then I am going to Home Depot to pick up light bulbs and a new faucet for the bathroom sink. I'm told that it's a great place to meet men on Sunday morning.
If I come back with CHOCOLATE GRAPPA, I will be happy. If I come back with a good looking and useful man who will replace aforementioned light bulbs and faucet, I will be ecstatic.
I keep typing CHOCOLATEGRAPPY. I must be high.
Saturday, September 20, 2008
Independence Day
I have decided that I am unwilling to cede independence to a mere mortal man.
I like living alone.
I like sleeping alone.
I like that my sheets are always clean.
I like not sharing a bathroom.
I like being able to put on pants and leave the house to meet friends whenever I feel like it.
I like being able to walk around the house pantless.
I like being able to sit at my desk in my underwear and turn on the space heater.
I like knowing that the dirty dishes in the sink aren't actually that dirty.
I like knowing that all of the stray hairs around the apartment are mine.
I like that no-one knows when I'm talking to myself.
I like that the only underwear I have to pick up is mine.
I like not having to justify, or even rationalize, my spending habits.
I like that my stuff doesn't get wrecked.
I like knowing exactly how much junk food I have in the house.
I like having all of the closet space in the apartment to myself.
I like being able to leave things lying around and knowing they'll still be exactly where I left them when I go back to find them.
There are a handful of things that I don't like about being single.
I miss human contact. Sometimes my nerve endings tingle because it's been so long since I touched another living creature.
I am a little bit scared to take out the garbage and the recycling.
I get frustrated with all the food that goes to waste because I can't finish it but can't buy lactose-free skim milk in less than 1 L containers.
I hate preparing food for myself.
I get lonely when I wake up from a screaming nightmare and there's no one to curl up to.
I like stealing body heat from furnace-like men.
I would prefer to watch TV with company.
I avoid watching movies alone unless I have seen them many times before.
I love sharing the weekend newspaper with someone else.
I wouldn't mind having a go-to person with whom I could share dim sum and take-out sushi.
I think the first list is still longer. And, let's face it, the second list is pretty easy to work around.
I like living alone.
I like sleeping alone.
I like that my sheets are always clean.
I like not sharing a bathroom.
I like being able to put on pants and leave the house to meet friends whenever I feel like it.
I like being able to walk around the house pantless.
I like being able to sit at my desk in my underwear and turn on the space heater.
I like knowing that the dirty dishes in the sink aren't actually that dirty.
I like knowing that all of the stray hairs around the apartment are mine.
I like that no-one knows when I'm talking to myself.
I like that the only underwear I have to pick up is mine.
I like not having to justify, or even rationalize, my spending habits.
I like that my stuff doesn't get wrecked.
I like knowing exactly how much junk food I have in the house.
I like having all of the closet space in the apartment to myself.
I like being able to leave things lying around and knowing they'll still be exactly where I left them when I go back to find them.
There are a handful of things that I don't like about being single.
I miss human contact. Sometimes my nerve endings tingle because it's been so long since I touched another living creature.
I am a little bit scared to take out the garbage and the recycling.
I get frustrated with all the food that goes to waste because I can't finish it but can't buy lactose-free skim milk in less than 1 L containers.
I hate preparing food for myself.
I get lonely when I wake up from a screaming nightmare and there's no one to curl up to.
I like stealing body heat from furnace-like men.
I would prefer to watch TV with company.
I avoid watching movies alone unless I have seen them many times before.
I love sharing the weekend newspaper with someone else.
I wouldn't mind having a go-to person with whom I could share dim sum and take-out sushi.
I think the first list is still longer. And, let's face it, the second list is pretty easy to work around.
Thursday, September 18, 2008
Parental units
I was a big ball of anxiety for most of the day. While I couldn't motivate myself to actually get out of bed and do some real work, I did spend the better part of the day worrying about not finishing my thesis on time, running out of money, moving out of my fabulous apartment and having to endure enforced curfews and meal times at A's parents house.
Okay, I'm being facetious. They have been very generous in their offer to let me stay as long as I need to and I may very well take them up on their offer in January. Ideally, I would stay here until I am finished my thesis because I am a giant control freak and also a huge fan of complete, utter, buzzing silence. I haven't lived with another living being for the past 4 years and I don't want to start now. Especially my best friend's parents and another high school friend (who moves in whenever they go away for the winter). I'm grumpy and I like my freedom to be grumpy whenever and however I like.
I talked to my parents for 45 minutes on the phone about this and we've come to a decision. I have to give 60 days notice to vacate so I have until November 1 to make a decision. That means I have 6 weeks to work like a mad woman on my thesis and also work as much as humanly possible while working on said thesis to make some money. If, by November 1, I feel that I can submit my thesis and defend by the end of the year, then I will give notice to leave this apartment at the end of December. I will put all of my crap in storage and move into A's parents house for whatever time I need to spend here in January.
If, on November 1, I cannot defend this year, I will make a decision based on my finances. I will hopefully know by then whether or not I can afford 55% of my monthly rent. The parents have agreed to contribute 45% of my rent for January, February and March if that happens. I have already paid the last month's rent so that will either take care of December or April. If I can't afford to pay for my share of the rent, the same decision will apply.
So, barring unforeseen tire contingencies, this is the plan. Work my ass off until Halloween and hopefully buy myself either a thesis defense for Christmas or another semester in this apartment.
I'm not sure how I'm going to manage Baby and Delorean's wedding in November but that appears to be under control for the most part. There is a bridal shower and bachelorette party to organize but those shouldn't take up that much time, hopefully.
I actually feel better having talked to my parents. I can safely say that this is the first time in my adult life that I have felt this way. Perhaps I had only to admit that I'm not infallible, that I was worried and anxious and didn't know what to do.
Okay, I'm being facetious. They have been very generous in their offer to let me stay as long as I need to and I may very well take them up on their offer in January. Ideally, I would stay here until I am finished my thesis because I am a giant control freak and also a huge fan of complete, utter, buzzing silence. I haven't lived with another living being for the past 4 years and I don't want to start now. Especially my best friend's parents and another high school friend (who moves in whenever they go away for the winter). I'm grumpy and I like my freedom to be grumpy whenever and however I like.
I talked to my parents for 45 minutes on the phone about this and we've come to a decision. I have to give 60 days notice to vacate so I have until November 1 to make a decision. That means I have 6 weeks to work like a mad woman on my thesis and also work as much as humanly possible while working on said thesis to make some money. If, by November 1, I feel that I can submit my thesis and defend by the end of the year, then I will give notice to leave this apartment at the end of December. I will put all of my crap in storage and move into A's parents house for whatever time I need to spend here in January.
If, on November 1, I cannot defend this year, I will make a decision based on my finances. I will hopefully know by then whether or not I can afford 55% of my monthly rent. The parents have agreed to contribute 45% of my rent for January, February and March if that happens. I have already paid the last month's rent so that will either take care of December or April. If I can't afford to pay for my share of the rent, the same decision will apply.
So, barring unforeseen tire contingencies, this is the plan. Work my ass off until Halloween and hopefully buy myself either a thesis defense for Christmas or another semester in this apartment.
I'm not sure how I'm going to manage Baby and Delorean's wedding in November but that appears to be under control for the most part. There is a bridal shower and bachelorette party to organize but those shouldn't take up that much time, hopefully.
I actually feel better having talked to my parents. I can safely say that this is the first time in my adult life that I have felt this way. Perhaps I had only to admit that I'm not infallible, that I was worried and anxious and didn't know what to do.
Wednesday, September 17, 2008
Continued
The sex with Grey continued this evening. We also watched the season premiere of House which was less exciting that I had anticipated. We had dinner - leftovers which were as good as anything he cooks - and watched a new show, Criminal Minds. I think it was the brunette whose truck got blown up. At one point he said something about relationships being hard and I laughed and explained to him that this is not in fact a relationship. The sex was fabulous, more fabulous than usual in fact. And we smoked a j which I really enjoyed. My body was tired and achy and now it isn't anymore. I'm going straight to bed. I hope tomorrow will be more productive at school. I'm having dinner with J and we have much to catch up on.
Tuesday, September 16, 2008
Setback
I have suffered a major setback this morning. I woke up at noon after finally falling asleep around 5 am and got an email from my thesis supervisor. He would like me to stay an extra semester to write up and defend. He has offered to pay my tuition in exchange for my training someone on the method I have been using. I won't be able to live in my condo anymore so A's parents have generously offered their place as long as I need it.
I emailed my work supervisors almost immediately about coming back to work full-time, or at least three days a week, this term. I can't imagine spending all of my time writing up my thesis. I'll go mental if I have to do that.
It also means a major curtailment of travel plans. I had planned to spend a couple of weeks in Hong Kong and India followed by at least two weeks in Australia ogling cute surfer boys. While I do have to go to HK and will likely end up spending a few days in India, I think the Australia travel plans will have to be postponed indefinitely. That makes me very sad.
But there's no point getting all weepy about it. I will definitely be needing another pair of longjohns though. The thought of spending a third winter in Toronto makes me want to weep for joy.
I emailed my work supervisors almost immediately about coming back to work full-time, or at least three days a week, this term. I can't imagine spending all of my time writing up my thesis. I'll go mental if I have to do that.
It also means a major curtailment of travel plans. I had planned to spend a couple of weeks in Hong Kong and India followed by at least two weeks in Australia ogling cute surfer boys. While I do have to go to HK and will likely end up spending a few days in India, I think the Australia travel plans will have to be postponed indefinitely. That makes me very sad.
But there's no point getting all weepy about it. I will definitely be needing another pair of longjohns though. The thought of spending a third winter in Toronto makes me want to weep for joy.
Monday, September 15, 2008
Mr Snuffalupagus
I just met a very nice man. Someone who has known A for 11 years and who has been my fb friend for almost as long as I have been on fb, who works down the street and who knows many of our mutual friends. He endorsed our love of shoes and even the amount of money we spend on them. I'm not sure why A isn't with him as he is outrageously good looking and also very nice. He tried to convince me that all hope isn't lost in love. That I should have faith in relationships. He didn't succeed but I hope that they both find what they are looking for. Maybe even with each other. Then she could move back here and we could all live happily ever after.
On a totally unrelated note, red wine makes me horny and I want to call Grey. Actually, what I want is for him to booty call me so that I can decline because I have a long lab day planned tomorrow. Then I could suggest tomorrow night. But I don't want sex that badly. Yet.
Oh, and on yet another unrelated note, I was served flaming saganaki (Opa!) and an Opa martini by a fireman tonight. We had dinner at Christina's on the Danforth tonight. I told them I would write that in my journal tonight and it is worthy of mention.
2.30 am update
He seems less nice now. Or perhaps I'm just too cynical. He finally told her that he has feelings for her. Apparently it was obvious to everyone except her. Even though I told her today that he was hardly likely to declare his undying love for her if all the girlfriends were there. Turns out I was right. It gives me little comfort and, for the first time, I find myself unable to be honest with her.
I feel cheapened on her behalf. Like all the things he said to her were laced with ulterior motive. That, all the time he was helping her get through her break up, he was being less than truthful and so now all of his good intentions and helpful thoughts and strong words have less meaning somehow. I'm frustrated with myself for feeling this way. I said earlier that she couldn't help attracting all the men in the room; that they were like bees to honey. And it's true. It's because she's good and kind and compassionate and gentle. All the things that I am not. She is truly the yang to my yin and that's often one of the few things that props up my self-esteem. Because, if she's my friend, I can't be all bad. Right?
I keep telling her to be bitchier, that she's too nice. That people, especially men, take advantage of her. But, more and more, I see that women mistreat her as well. So I will continue to bite my tongue and not let her know that I feel this way. It's not what she needs to hear right now. I don't think that she needed to hear a declaration of undying love from a man she considers a good friend either but perhaps I'm projecting. I wouldn't have wanted to hear it right after a bitter break up but clearly she's stronger, and less cynical, than me. I should be more like her.
I feel very lonely right now.
3.30 am update
I really wish she hadn't called me and woken me up less than an hour after I had fallen asleep. I'm too exhausted to work but wide awake and can't even just lie in bed and relax. I know sleep won't come again tonight and I don't know what to do with myself. I want to cry and yell with frustration. I hate myself for wanting to call her and wake her up right now. I'm so lonely and have no-one to talk to. What I want most is to walk in front of a fast-moving train, bus or tractor-trailer.
Almost 4.30 am update
Dying alone used to be my biggest fear. Now living alone is my biggest fear. I live with it every day. Rather, every night. Because every night, when the lights go out, the monster comes out to play. I try to forget about it by being busy. For the most part, that seems to work just fine. When I'm exhausted, the monster seems smaller. Tonight, I'm lying in the dark thinking of ways to kill myself. (Un)fortunately, I rule them all out in sequence and then start over again. I cried so hard I hyperventilated and almost choked. I went through half a box of Kleenex. I tried to think of all the people I could call or email and ruled them all out. I even thought about calling my dad or emailing my mother. That's how bad it is tonight. I don't know how to ask for help. Or maybe I don't know who to ask. The monster is making me cold so I'm going to hide under the covers. Maybe my pillows and bunny will protect me now.
On a totally unrelated note, red wine makes me horny and I want to call Grey. Actually, what I want is for him to booty call me so that I can decline because I have a long lab day planned tomorrow. Then I could suggest tomorrow night. But I don't want sex that badly. Yet.
Oh, and on yet another unrelated note, I was served flaming saganaki (Opa!) and an Opa martini by a fireman tonight. We had dinner at Christina's on the Danforth tonight. I told them I would write that in my journal tonight and it is worthy of mention.
2.30 am update
He seems less nice now. Or perhaps I'm just too cynical. He finally told her that he has feelings for her. Apparently it was obvious to everyone except her. Even though I told her today that he was hardly likely to declare his undying love for her if all the girlfriends were there. Turns out I was right. It gives me little comfort and, for the first time, I find myself unable to be honest with her.
I feel cheapened on her behalf. Like all the things he said to her were laced with ulterior motive. That, all the time he was helping her get through her break up, he was being less than truthful and so now all of his good intentions and helpful thoughts and strong words have less meaning somehow. I'm frustrated with myself for feeling this way. I said earlier that she couldn't help attracting all the men in the room; that they were like bees to honey. And it's true. It's because she's good and kind and compassionate and gentle. All the things that I am not. She is truly the yang to my yin and that's often one of the few things that props up my self-esteem. Because, if she's my friend, I can't be all bad. Right?
I keep telling her to be bitchier, that she's too nice. That people, especially men, take advantage of her. But, more and more, I see that women mistreat her as well. So I will continue to bite my tongue and not let her know that I feel this way. It's not what she needs to hear right now. I don't think that she needed to hear a declaration of undying love from a man she considers a good friend either but perhaps I'm projecting. I wouldn't have wanted to hear it right after a bitter break up but clearly she's stronger, and less cynical, than me. I should be more like her.
I feel very lonely right now.
3.30 am update
I really wish she hadn't called me and woken me up less than an hour after I had fallen asleep. I'm too exhausted to work but wide awake and can't even just lie in bed and relax. I know sleep won't come again tonight and I don't know what to do with myself. I want to cry and yell with frustration. I hate myself for wanting to call her and wake her up right now. I'm so lonely and have no-one to talk to. What I want most is to walk in front of a fast-moving train, bus or tractor-trailer.
Almost 4.30 am update
Dying alone used to be my biggest fear. Now living alone is my biggest fear. I live with it every day. Rather, every night. Because every night, when the lights go out, the monster comes out to play. I try to forget about it by being busy. For the most part, that seems to work just fine. When I'm exhausted, the monster seems smaller. Tonight, I'm lying in the dark thinking of ways to kill myself. (Un)fortunately, I rule them all out in sequence and then start over again. I cried so hard I hyperventilated and almost choked. I went through half a box of Kleenex. I tried to think of all the people I could call or email and ruled them all out. I even thought about calling my dad or emailing my mother. That's how bad it is tonight. I don't know how to ask for help. Or maybe I don't know who to ask. The monster is making me cold so I'm going to hide under the covers. Maybe my pillows and bunny will protect me now.
Sunday, September 14, 2008
Prosecco and dancing chased by Advil and naps
I had a very, very good time at the wedding. Granted, I only started to have a very, very good time after my fourth glass of Prosecco but I refuse to let my hangover taint my memory of last night. I think I was only outrageously, embarrassingly drunk when I drunk-dialled my former Valentine but he deserves it for being such a... I was going to write "jerk" but I can't. I miss him and still shed tears about how things are between us now. It's such a fine line.
The wedding was at a U of T college church and was lovely. Short and sweet and touching. Both the bride and the groom cried; the groom started it. There were some funny moments. The reception was at the Gardiner ceramic museum. I had no idea it even existed. The room overlooks the ROM crystal and the light made it seem as though the sun was perpetually setting. The catering was Jamie Kennedy and the service was excellent. It was a very cool wedding. The DJ was really good and I meant to ask for a card for Baby and Delorean but they're probably way outside their price range. The venue was gorgeous, the wedding was fun, the speeches were funny and I had a surprisingly good time. While I still think that love and marriage is crap, and that marriage should be a business arrangement first and foremost, they're a good couple and I hope it will last.
The only dicey incident was ending up at the bride's brother's apartment afterwards and the ensuing bedroom-balcony peep show photos that are likely to end up on facebook. Fortunately, I don't think I'm actually in any of them. A might have some problems with the bride over those. Her brother is very cute and gives great hugs. If he wasn't her brother... actually no, he's not my type. But still, very cute.
One of the cousins gave me his card and an open invitation to NYC. I've never been to NYC. I just never got around to going. I would really like to spend a few days though. Maybe next fall after I've saved up a bit.
I think I need to go back to bed and wait for the Advil to kick in. By the time I walked home at 4 am, I was stone-cold sober, in pain from walking around in ridiculous heels and ready for sleep. But A's mother called me and, stupidly, I answered my phone. She sent me back to collect her daughter at 5 am so I had to go pick her up and drive her home. I bet she's glad she doesn't live in the city anymore.
The wedding was at a U of T college church and was lovely. Short and sweet and touching. Both the bride and the groom cried; the groom started it. There were some funny moments. The reception was at the Gardiner ceramic museum. I had no idea it even existed. The room overlooks the ROM crystal and the light made it seem as though the sun was perpetually setting. The catering was Jamie Kennedy and the service was excellent. It was a very cool wedding. The DJ was really good and I meant to ask for a card for Baby and Delorean but they're probably way outside their price range. The venue was gorgeous, the wedding was fun, the speeches were funny and I had a surprisingly good time. While I still think that love and marriage is crap, and that marriage should be a business arrangement first and foremost, they're a good couple and I hope it will last.
The only dicey incident was ending up at the bride's brother's apartment afterwards and the ensuing bedroom-balcony peep show photos that are likely to end up on facebook. Fortunately, I don't think I'm actually in any of them. A might have some problems with the bride over those. Her brother is very cute and gives great hugs. If he wasn't her brother... actually no, he's not my type. But still, very cute.
One of the cousins gave me his card and an open invitation to NYC. I've never been to NYC. I just never got around to going. I would really like to spend a few days though. Maybe next fall after I've saved up a bit.
I think I need to go back to bed and wait for the Advil to kick in. By the time I walked home at 4 am, I was stone-cold sober, in pain from walking around in ridiculous heels and ready for sleep. But A's mother called me and, stupidly, I answered my phone. She sent me back to collect her daughter at 5 am so I had to go pick her up and drive her home. I bet she's glad she doesn't live in the city anymore.
Saturday, September 13, 2008
Unexpected
I had sex with Grey. It was outrageously fabulous, as always. And I'm going to the wedding with A. The bride invited me this evening. Not sure if I'm looking forward to it. I'm glad she invited me to it but I'm starting to dread weddings. At least I'll be able to say I went to her wedding when she's uber famous.
Friday, September 12, 2008
Golden oldie
I don't feel like writing but I can't bring myself to get up from my desk and go to bed. I'm exhausted. Crap, my sheets are still in the laundry.... augh!
All is not lost. The sheets are dry and the pillowcases are in the dryer. Hopefully they'll be done by the time I have finished writing this.
I'm hungry so I'm eating a bowl of wheat bran and yoghurt. At the risk of providing you with too much information, I'm wondering if it's possible for wheat bran to go bad? Sometimes I find that it acts as a binding agent more than its supposed helpful properties. For the most part, it has been helpful. Ever since I started eating 3 tablespoons a day, I have had less stomach pain, less nausea and I don't feel as uncomfortably full after I eat. It also seems to mitigate the adverse effects of accidentally eating eggs (to which I have developed an allergy) and lactose (to which I have slowly developed an intolerance). When my GI specialist first told me I was constipated, I thought he was a quack and looked around the room for his medical degrees. Because, you know, I really think that's something I would have noticed! However, the word is apparently misused and the bran has helped so he was right. To an extent. That's probably my fault for not taking it religiously. Some days I can't stomach that much wheat bran and yoghurt and it's hard to find other food vehicles in which to put it. Let me tell you, 3 tablespoons of anything is a lot of food. Except for maybe fondue...
Damn old age. Although, I felt pretty good tonight when a youngun talked to me. He may even have been flirting with me. We were at the James Joyce Irish pub on Bloor Street (stick with me for a Wiggles-related aside) and there were "old" people on the "dance floor" in front of the band. The youngun sitting next to me made a crack about how that's okay when you're 40 and don't care what people think anymore. When I told him that I was closer to 40 than to 20, he did a double take. We swapped driver's licences and he turned out to be a ripe, young 22-year old who just graduated from the finance program at my "University". Since I will never see him again, I can tell you his name was Taylor and he was damn cute for a youngun. Normally I go for the silver fox look but I might have made an exception if he had attempted to number-close.
Anyway, it felt good to tell him that I was 31. I guess if I looked "my age", whatever that means, perhaps I wouldn't feel the same. But I actually think that I do look my age. I certainly dress age-appropriately, even if I don't act it! The bartender actually asked me for ID tonight and it took me a moment to understand what he was saying. Ha.
The Captain W aside: I was nervous to go to this particular pub as he has mentioned it is one of his watering holes. They have Guinness on tap. But I was pretty confident that we arrived well after his bedtime. It was after 10 pm.
All is not lost. The sheets are dry and the pillowcases are in the dryer. Hopefully they'll be done by the time I have finished writing this.
I'm hungry so I'm eating a bowl of wheat bran and yoghurt. At the risk of providing you with too much information, I'm wondering if it's possible for wheat bran to go bad? Sometimes I find that it acts as a binding agent more than its supposed helpful properties. For the most part, it has been helpful. Ever since I started eating 3 tablespoons a day, I have had less stomach pain, less nausea and I don't feel as uncomfortably full after I eat. It also seems to mitigate the adverse effects of accidentally eating eggs (to which I have developed an allergy) and lactose (to which I have slowly developed an intolerance). When my GI specialist first told me I was constipated, I thought he was a quack and looked around the room for his medical degrees. Because, you know, I really think that's something I would have noticed! However, the word is apparently misused and the bran has helped so he was right. To an extent. That's probably my fault for not taking it religiously. Some days I can't stomach that much wheat bran and yoghurt and it's hard to find other food vehicles in which to put it. Let me tell you, 3 tablespoons of anything is a lot of food. Except for maybe fondue...
Damn old age. Although, I felt pretty good tonight when a youngun talked to me. He may even have been flirting with me. We were at the James Joyce Irish pub on Bloor Street (stick with me for a Wiggles-related aside) and there were "old" people on the "dance floor" in front of the band. The youngun sitting next to me made a crack about how that's okay when you're 40 and don't care what people think anymore. When I told him that I was closer to 40 than to 20, he did a double take. We swapped driver's licences and he turned out to be a ripe, young 22-year old who just graduated from the finance program at my "University". Since I will never see him again, I can tell you his name was Taylor and he was damn cute for a youngun. Normally I go for the silver fox look but I might have made an exception if he had attempted to number-close.
Anyway, it felt good to tell him that I was 31. I guess if I looked "my age", whatever that means, perhaps I wouldn't feel the same. But I actually think that I do look my age. I certainly dress age-appropriately, even if I don't act it! The bartender actually asked me for ID tonight and it took me a moment to understand what he was saying. Ha.
The Captain W aside: I was nervous to go to this particular pub as he has mentioned it is one of his watering holes. They have Guinness on tap. But I was pretty confident that we arrived well after his bedtime. It was after 10 pm.
Wednesday, September 10, 2008
Hurt
He said:
Hello there. Sorry to hear you're busy, stressed and exhausted. Although it is my last wish to add any sort of negativity to your day, I must tell you that I don't have your phone number. Being a facebook-snob, I deleted you from my friends list because I hadn't heard from you and assumed you'd moved on.
That said, if you'd still like to get together, we could aim for Saturday.
I sincerely hope all is well.
w.
Hello there. Sorry to hear you're busy, stressed and exhausted. Although it is my last wish to add any sort of negativity to your day, I must tell you that I don't have your phone number. Being a facebook-snob, I deleted you from my friends list because I hadn't heard from you and assumed you'd moved on.
That said, if you'd still like to get together, we could aim for Saturday.
I sincerely hope all is well.
w.
AUGH
I need new tires. The mechanic really didn't want to let me drive away after he rotated them. But I don't really have a choice. I have no money for tires right now. I have my registration renewal and Drive Clean emissions test coming up on my birthday so I'm taking my car in for servicing tomorrow. Hopefully that won't add more money to the VISA bill this month. Basically, I'm working to pay for the stinkin' car. I might ask my parents to buy me new tires for my birthday this year. They didn't do anything special last year so I don't feel so bad asking this year for something so important. In the meantime, I'll be on foot.
I emailed W and asked him to call me. I told him I was free for dinner on Friday and Saturday because A will be at wedding events both nights. For some reason, I woke up this morning not mad anymore and realized that I need to work on the way I deal with disappointment. It's the only feeling that continues to make me feel more frustrated than is necessary. I've learned to loosen my grip on most other aspects of my life so this should be easier too. I can't remember at what point in my life I became such a control freak.
Anyway, I think it's going to be leftover dim sum for dinner tonight.
I emailed W and asked him to call me. I told him I was free for dinner on Friday and Saturday because A will be at wedding events both nights. For some reason, I woke up this morning not mad anymore and realized that I need to work on the way I deal with disappointment. It's the only feeling that continues to make me feel more frustrated than is necessary. I've learned to loosen my grip on most other aspects of my life so this should be easier too. I can't remember at what point in my life I became such a control freak.
Anyway, I think it's going to be leftover dim sum for dinner tonight.
Lonely limbo
I still haven't replied to W. I flip flop back and forth between wanting to see him again and my usual relationship strategy ie panicked flight response.
I didn't see A today although I spoke to her briefly on the phone. She's at a bridal shower tonight. I talked to a good guy friend today about W and he said to be gentle with him. Somehow getting advice from a man doesn't seem quite the same. Especially when said man is super-sensitive, funny, good-macho-manly and happily married. I need to talk to a girlfriend but I feel alone tonight. Even Baby didn't call me back today and Delorean is working tonight so I'm not sure where she went.
My silver capsules arrived today so I spent four hours rolling my filters into tiny little balls. Hopefully my supervisor ships them off to Cornell tomorrow and the results will be back before mid-October. I'm not sure how I'm going to defend this year.
Work tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it. I know I'm not going to sleep well tonight and it's going to be a long, exhausting day. I just want to stay in bed and watch Pride and Prejudice - the second DVD - and pretend that the world doesn't exist. Maybe I'll do that on Thursday.
I didn't see A today although I spoke to her briefly on the phone. She's at a bridal shower tonight. I talked to a good guy friend today about W and he said to be gentle with him. Somehow getting advice from a man doesn't seem quite the same. Especially when said man is super-sensitive, funny, good-macho-manly and happily married. I need to talk to a girlfriend but I feel alone tonight. Even Baby didn't call me back today and Delorean is working tonight so I'm not sure where she went.
My silver capsules arrived today so I spent four hours rolling my filters into tiny little balls. Hopefully my supervisor ships them off to Cornell tomorrow and the results will be back before mid-October. I'm not sure how I'm going to defend this year.
Work tomorrow. I'm not looking forward to it. I know I'm not going to sleep well tonight and it's going to be a long, exhausting day. I just want to stay in bed and watch Pride and Prejudice - the second DVD - and pretend that the world doesn't exist. Maybe I'll do that on Thursday.
Monday, September 8, 2008
RSVP?
A is on her way into town. I'm very excited in a relieved sort of way. She was here not too long ago but I wish she was around all the time. In fact, I wish I could put her in my pocket and take her everywhere with me.
On a totally unrelated note, W emailed me just as I was leaving work about an hour ago. I'm not sure how to proceed. Should I agree to dinner and tell him how I'm feeling in person? Should I ask him to call me to discuss plans and ambush him with it then? Just ignore the email for a couple of days and then tell him how I really feel on, say, Wednesday night?
Just when I was starting to get used to the idea of being celibate for the remainder of the year... Actually, at his geological rate of progress, I will be celibate for the remainder of the year!
On a totally unrelated note, W emailed me just as I was leaving work about an hour ago. I'm not sure how to proceed. Should I agree to dinner and tell him how I'm feeling in person? Should I ask him to call me to discuss plans and ambush him with it then? Just ignore the email for a couple of days and then tell him how I really feel on, say, Wednesday night?
Just when I was starting to get used to the idea of being celibate for the remainder of the year... Actually, at his geological rate of progress, I will be celibate for the remainder of the year!
Sunday, September 7, 2008
Anniversary, of sorts
I want to call Grey. Or email or text or whatever. But it won't make me feel better so I won't. Instead, I am choosing to mark an anniversary of sorts.
On September 7, 2007, we got together with a mutual friend and ended up very drunk and fooled around. On September 11, he emailed me that I had left my earrings on his ottoman and I went over there to collect them. We slept together. On the 12th, he called me from work in the evening to talk to me before he got too tired to be coherent. He was trying to make B look bad. It worked. He was paying attention to my words. My heart melted just a little bit. We slept together on the 13th, 15th and the 18th. Then he left for Calgary for a few days. When he got back on the 21st with a new crackberry, he texted me thinking it was the other girl he was sleeping with. On the 22nd, I ended our brief but torrid acquaintance for the first time.
On October 6th, he called me again. We went out with one of his friends. He told me that he ended it with the other woman because "it wasn't going anywhere". On the 8th, we went for a walk and he held my hand. The following two weeks were comfortable. We celebrated his birthday but he was sick and I looked after him. He took me to a gala at the nicest hotel in town the following saturday. He told me I looked beautiful. Twice.
Two weeks later, we celebrated my birthday. On November 12th, he went to Vancouver for a week. He called me every day, more than once. Usually several times. It was lovely. At that point, we were spending entire weekends together at his place. He still had not been to mine. Somewhere in there, things started to deteriorate. By the time we went to the hockey game on the 17th, he had started to be more of a jerk than a gem.
I look through my day planner for last year and it's not as though I had morphed into him. I had my own life. I was very busy. With school, with work, with friends. Wedding dress shopping and baby showers and marking and presentations. Maybe he started to resent that about me.
On December 10th, I got food poisoning after having dinner at his house. He wouldn't bring me soup. The tetra pak organic chicken broth sitting in his cupboard that I bought him when he was sick in October. Because that would be too much of a "boyfriend" thing to do. I ended things again for the second time.
I'm tired of men telling me I'm beautiful and funny and intelligent and awesome and superfabulousgreat. The words are hollow, their import devoid of any significance except "I wanna hump you from behind over the living room couch". It makes me hate myself for being unable to fill the void. I need affection and tenderness. I want hugs and cuddles and kisses and spoons. I crave meaning and longevity. Is this so much to ask?
I won't call Grey but I think I will change out of my pyjamas and have a cigarette. It's more (or less?) self-destructive.
On September 7, 2007, we got together with a mutual friend and ended up very drunk and fooled around. On September 11, he emailed me that I had left my earrings on his ottoman and I went over there to collect them. We slept together. On the 12th, he called me from work in the evening to talk to me before he got too tired to be coherent. He was trying to make B look bad. It worked. He was paying attention to my words. My heart melted just a little bit. We slept together on the 13th, 15th and the 18th. Then he left for Calgary for a few days. When he got back on the 21st with a new crackberry, he texted me thinking it was the other girl he was sleeping with. On the 22nd, I ended our brief but torrid acquaintance for the first time.
On October 6th, he called me again. We went out with one of his friends. He told me that he ended it with the other woman because "it wasn't going anywhere". On the 8th, we went for a walk and he held my hand. The following two weeks were comfortable. We celebrated his birthday but he was sick and I looked after him. He took me to a gala at the nicest hotel in town the following saturday. He told me I looked beautiful. Twice.
Two weeks later, we celebrated my birthday. On November 12th, he went to Vancouver for a week. He called me every day, more than once. Usually several times. It was lovely. At that point, we were spending entire weekends together at his place. He still had not been to mine. Somewhere in there, things started to deteriorate. By the time we went to the hockey game on the 17th, he had started to be more of a jerk than a gem.
I look through my day planner for last year and it's not as though I had morphed into him. I had my own life. I was very busy. With school, with work, with friends. Wedding dress shopping and baby showers and marking and presentations. Maybe he started to resent that about me.
On December 10th, I got food poisoning after having dinner at his house. He wouldn't bring me soup. The tetra pak organic chicken broth sitting in his cupboard that I bought him when he was sick in October. Because that would be too much of a "boyfriend" thing to do. I ended things again for the second time.
I'm tired of men telling me I'm beautiful and funny and intelligent and awesome and superfabulousgreat. The words are hollow, their import devoid of any significance except "I wanna hump you from behind over the living room couch". It makes me hate myself for being unable to fill the void. I need affection and tenderness. I want hugs and cuddles and kisses and spoons. I crave meaning and longevity. Is this so much to ask?
I won't call Grey but I think I will change out of my pyjamas and have a cigarette. It's more (or less?) self-destructive.
This is how I really feel
W
I was disappointed when you canceled our date without a reason, or even an apology. I expected you would call with an explanation. This is the very least I would do if I had to cancel plans with a friend.
Then, when I got home on Saturday night and discovered that you would rather spend the evening posting youtube videos on facebook than with me, it was hard not to take that personally.
I would like to believe I deserve better. What I would really like is to be with a man who wants to talk to me every day. Who is excited to see me. And I would prefer that excitement not to fade after a handful of dates.
Perhaps that's too much to expect but I don't think I can settle for anything less.
I would appreciate if you would return my book before the end of the month.
Me
I was disappointed when you canceled our date without a reason, or even an apology. I expected you would call with an explanation. This is the very least I would do if I had to cancel plans with a friend.
Then, when I got home on Saturday night and discovered that you would rather spend the evening posting youtube videos on facebook than with me, it was hard not to take that personally.
I would like to believe I deserve better. What I would really like is to be with a man who wants to talk to me every day. Who is excited to see me. And I would prefer that excitement not to fade after a handful of dates.
Perhaps that's too much to expect but I don't think I can settle for anything less.
I would appreciate if you would return my book before the end of the month.
Me
Saturday, September 6, 2008
Also
If you're going to blow a girl off, at least have the brains to stay off facebook for the evening! At least I know he isn't on another date. Idiot.
Just not that into me
It has been an exhausting few days. Last night I finished what was hopefully my final experiment. I have some analysis left to complete but it shouldn't take more than a couple of days next week. I also have to go to Montreal to run some samples there but that may not happen until the end of the month. So, other than having craploads of glassware left to wash, I feel pretty good.
I woke up this morning happy that I didn't have to get up and go somewhere. That felt good. So I checked my facebook and did the other things that are part of my daily constitutional. And then I went back to bed. I've been reading Maureen Jenning's Detective Murdoch mystery series and it's nice to read without falling asleep and losing track of the plot and characters. If Baby doesn't call soon, I'm going back to bed again.
While I was lying in bed reading, I got to thinking about Captain Wiggles. Since he canceled our date on Thursday evening, he hasn't emailed or called (unsurprising) or even commented on my many facebook status updates which have been about my trials and tribulations in the lab. Granted, nobody else has commented or checked in either so perhaps my expectations are unrealistic. Then I was thinking that, four dates in, and the man can barely bring himself to touch me. Respectful distance, my ass. I want to be with someone who is struggling to keep his manly, assertive hands off me. Someone who won't tell me that he's debating holding my hand or giving me a kiss. A man who will just do those things because he can read my body language and can sense that I'm into him enough that I won't object to his affectionate proximity. Even Grey managed to maintain a respectful but sexual-tension-filled nearness until I finally succumbed to his masterful seduction.
Clearly Wiggles is just not that into me.
I woke up this morning happy that I didn't have to get up and go somewhere. That felt good. So I checked my facebook and did the other things that are part of my daily constitutional. And then I went back to bed. I've been reading Maureen Jenning's Detective Murdoch mystery series and it's nice to read without falling asleep and losing track of the plot and characters. If Baby doesn't call soon, I'm going back to bed again.
While I was lying in bed reading, I got to thinking about Captain Wiggles. Since he canceled our date on Thursday evening, he hasn't emailed or called (unsurprising) or even commented on my many facebook status updates which have been about my trials and tribulations in the lab. Granted, nobody else has commented or checked in either so perhaps my expectations are unrealistic. Then I was thinking that, four dates in, and the man can barely bring himself to touch me. Respectful distance, my ass. I want to be with someone who is struggling to keep his manly, assertive hands off me. Someone who won't tell me that he's debating holding my hand or giving me a kiss. A man who will just do those things because he can read my body language and can sense that I'm into him enough that I won't object to his affectionate proximity. Even Grey managed to maintain a respectful but sexual-tension-filled nearness until I finally succumbed to his masterful seduction.
Clearly Wiggles is just not that into me.
Friday, September 5, 2008
Brush off
I was given the brush off today. I'm disappointed. I attempted to be sensitive with the result that Captain W canceled Saturday plans altogether. I got the distinct impression that he was a little hesitant to have me over so I suggested we postpone Conan and do something else. He said he needed this weekend to "catch up and clean up" and suggested that we plan for next week instead. Curses. I wrote out a long-ass email about how I lead a very busy life as well and that I'm going to be swamped for the next couple of weeks and that, if he wants to see me again, he'll have to get over his phone-phobia and start calling me to show that he's interested.
But, when I was walking home from school at 3 am, I talked to two friends. Male, in Vancouver which is why they were still up. They said not to send the email. That I should be more elusive and unavailable. Let him do the chasing. Snort, Captain Wiggles has no game, by his own admission.
So yes, the email remains unsent. I hate playing games. It's excruciating. I was really starting to like this guy. The irony is that I used the same brush off on The Kid a couple of weeks ago. Dating karma is a bitch.
But, when I was walking home from school at 3 am, I talked to two friends. Male, in Vancouver which is why they were still up. They said not to send the email. That I should be more elusive and unavailable. Let him do the chasing. Snort, Captain Wiggles has no game, by his own admission.
So yes, the email remains unsent. I hate playing games. It's excruciating. I was really starting to like this guy. The irony is that I used the same brush off on The Kid a couple of weeks ago. Dating karma is a bitch.
Wednesday, September 3, 2008
Exhausted
Today was long and exhausting. And we didn't finish. There was some discussion about me going back to the site tomorrow but I put it off until early next week to give me some breathing room. The next two days will exhausting be as well as I'm really feeling the crunch to get the lab work finished. I'm going to set up my final final (!) 24 hour experiment tomorrow. I'm hoping to start it very early Friday morning. That means it will go til very early Saturday morning. I'll probably be a wreck on Saturday evening for Conan Night. Oh yeah, that's been postponed as well. He said Thursday was too soon and he needed some more time to get his place in order. Perhaps this is not going to turn out well.
Anyway, bed now. Tomorrow, school.
Anyway, bed now. Tomorrow, school.
Ow
Date 4 was pleasant. Dinner and coffee and then home. He did squeeze my hand today (and I squeezed back) although he refrained from a kiss on the subway which is a good thing. I'm a major prude when it comes to public displays and that would have made me very uncomfortable.
Date 5 is likely to involve sushi and Conan the Barbarian. His favourite guy moovie. Perhaps Thursday evening. This whole getting to know someone before I sleep with him is quite nice. I think I might actually like him as a person! Granted, I need a martini to relax but I think that's just me. He said that he was surprised how quickly things had proceeded. Four dates in three weeks. That usually he doesn't get past date 2. I laughed and told him that I've had four dates in four days but it never ended up well. So "slow" is good.
He also mentioned that his father is a very strict RC. Sigh. I refuse to borrow trouble but it's worth bearing in mind that there is a potentially huge hurdle coming up. I've been here before. Twice. Three times if you count the Muslim guy I dated briefly and misguidedly. In my late teens. I know this is different but I'm not sure I want my children to be baptized. If I even want to have children.
Work-wise, tomorrow is going to be painful. I have to be up at 6 and in the car by 6.30 but my stomach is killing me. Probably stress and lack of sleep. I got home at 11 and then got on the phone to Baby to coordinate our schedules and find out when I could see Captain W. By the time I checked my email it was almost 12. I got an email from the project manager asking me to review and summarize some documents. Hence the late night posting.
I hope my stomach cooperates in the morning. Okay, I know it won't. I'd better get up a half hour early to deal with agonizing cramps, nausea and cold sweats. Yay.
Date 5 is likely to involve sushi and Conan the Barbarian. His favourite guy moovie. Perhaps Thursday evening. This whole getting to know someone before I sleep with him is quite nice. I think I might actually like him as a person! Granted, I need a martini to relax but I think that's just me. He said that he was surprised how quickly things had proceeded. Four dates in three weeks. That usually he doesn't get past date 2. I laughed and told him that I've had four dates in four days but it never ended up well. So "slow" is good.
He also mentioned that his father is a very strict RC. Sigh. I refuse to borrow trouble but it's worth bearing in mind that there is a potentially huge hurdle coming up. I've been here before. Twice. Three times if you count the Muslim guy I dated briefly and misguidedly. In my late teens. I know this is different but I'm not sure I want my children to be baptized. If I even want to have children.
Work-wise, tomorrow is going to be painful. I have to be up at 6 and in the car by 6.30 but my stomach is killing me. Probably stress and lack of sleep. I got home at 11 and then got on the phone to Baby to coordinate our schedules and find out when I could see Captain W. By the time I checked my email it was almost 12. I got an email from the project manager asking me to review and summarize some documents. Hence the late night posting.
I hope my stomach cooperates in the morning. Okay, I know it won't. I'd better get up a half hour early to deal with agonizing cramps, nausea and cold sweats. Yay.
Monday, September 1, 2008
Singled out as solo
I went to Dream in the Park this evening. It was A Midsummer Night's Dream with a modern twist. It was hilarious. I won't write a review because tonight was the last performance. I'll just say that I have a new, and thoroughly unattainable dream: to play Helena.
Actually, I might have mentioned Dream last week. Captain W and I were supposed to go last Thursday but we decided not to on account of impending rain. So, this afternoon, I decided to go by myself. Why should he have all the fun up at his cottage while I sit and stew in my sweaty pyjamas on my couch? I thought I could benefit from lying on a blanket under the sun for a few hours reading before the play started.
Not so much.
I left late because my joints were still aching despite the Advil. Plus, I felt guilty about driving instead of taking the streetcar. When I eventually decided to just deal with the guilt and drive, it was after 6 pm. I'm really glad I did drive because it was pitch dark when the play was over and it would have sucked to take transit home at that hour. I digress...
I arrived in High Park and totally lucked out by finding a parking spot immediately. Woo hoo! So I walked in to the venue and paid the $20. I was asked by one of the volunteers if it was my first time. After I said yes, he mentioned that I could go right in since I was obviously meeting people there. When I said that I was alone, he said he would send me to another volunteer who would find me a kick ass spot up front. Sweet, right? Again, not so much. Although she was fairly discreet about signaling to a third volunteer that she was looking for a spot for one, he belted out, "just one then?" which drew stares from everyone in the immediate vicinity. Instant mortification. And when I said to the girl next to me, "I guess a single girl can't sneak in inconspicuously!", she laughed but said nothing to me for the next 3 hours. Neither did the man to my right. Shakespeare snobs.
Anyway, the play was good. Excellent, considering it was only $20. Definitely, Bard on the Beach in Vancouver is exponentially better but you also pay significantly more to attend. The grass at the Canstage Theatre was hard and lumpy. The concrete against my back was cold. The venue was overfilled to a capacity of more than 1,000 people. I was literally knee-to-knee with the snobby people either side of me. And I couldn't stretch my legs out. Thank goodness for my oversized blanket, butt pillow and fleece. Plus, the play is billed as kid-friendly. It's too bad the kids aren't. Ugh, definitely "adult" plays from now on.
It would have been much more fun if I had been there with Captain W. It might even have been warmer, if I could convince him to put an arm around me! Maybe I'll actually get a hug on Tuesday. In the meantime, I'm taking Detective Murdoch to bed.
Actually, I might have mentioned Dream last week. Captain W and I were supposed to go last Thursday but we decided not to on account of impending rain. So, this afternoon, I decided to go by myself. Why should he have all the fun up at his cottage while I sit and stew in my sweaty pyjamas on my couch? I thought I could benefit from lying on a blanket under the sun for a few hours reading before the play started.
Not so much.
I left late because my joints were still aching despite the Advil. Plus, I felt guilty about driving instead of taking the streetcar. When I eventually decided to just deal with the guilt and drive, it was after 6 pm. I'm really glad I did drive because it was pitch dark when the play was over and it would have sucked to take transit home at that hour. I digress...
I arrived in High Park and totally lucked out by finding a parking spot immediately. Woo hoo! So I walked in to the venue and paid the $20. I was asked by one of the volunteers if it was my first time. After I said yes, he mentioned that I could go right in since I was obviously meeting people there. When I said that I was alone, he said he would send me to another volunteer who would find me a kick ass spot up front. Sweet, right? Again, not so much. Although she was fairly discreet about signaling to a third volunteer that she was looking for a spot for one, he belted out, "just one then?" which drew stares from everyone in the immediate vicinity. Instant mortification. And when I said to the girl next to me, "I guess a single girl can't sneak in inconspicuously!", she laughed but said nothing to me for the next 3 hours. Neither did the man to my right. Shakespeare snobs.
Anyway, the play was good. Excellent, considering it was only $20. Definitely, Bard on the Beach in Vancouver is exponentially better but you also pay significantly more to attend. The grass at the Canstage Theatre was hard and lumpy. The concrete against my back was cold. The venue was overfilled to a capacity of more than 1,000 people. I was literally knee-to-knee with the snobby people either side of me. And I couldn't stretch my legs out. Thank goodness for my oversized blanket, butt pillow and fleece. Plus, the play is billed as kid-friendly. It's too bad the kids aren't. Ugh, definitely "adult" plays from now on.
It would have been much more fun if I had been there with Captain W. It might even have been warmer, if I could convince him to put an arm around me! Maybe I'll actually get a hug on Tuesday. In the meantime, I'm taking Detective Murdoch to bed.
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