May 31, 2007


When it comes to dating, does age really matter? That seems to be the question of the week for a whole lot of the single women I hang out with. Most of us are pushing 30, or already there. When we think of relationships, we think of them in the long term, because we are growing up, and are sick of wasting our time with one night stands and those annoying one month relationships. We feel that we are too old for guys in their early 20's and too young for someone who is in their mid-thirties. And guys our own age seem to be almost non-existent. If you are dating someone who is older than you, you worry that if you stay together, he won't want the same things as you do, because in his mind, it could be a 'been there, done that' situation. If you're dating someone younger, you run the risk of not being able to move forward, because, just like you were at their age, they just aren't ready for any kind of commitment, and have a lot more growing up to do.

We go on and on about how we're too old, too young, too mature, too immature.

But ladies, I think we need to stop it. If that person makes you happy, if they treat you well, and possess the qualities that are on your little mental list of what you are looking for in a mate, then just go for it. No matter how old he is, or you are, there are going to be some issues and some bumps in the road if it turns into a full on relationship. Deal with those things as they come, don't dread the issues you are afraid of, because when you do that, you turn it into a self-fulfilling prophecy.

And hey, it's spring. Spring fever is in the air, and we all deserve some cuddling on a rainy night. Does it really matter if you can see yourself with that person for ever and ever? Go forth, and have fun, girls, and quit worrying about how old you are. I did, and it's working out for me.

May 29, 2007

Woo Hoo!

10 Things That Are Exciting to Me Right Now

1. As of right now, I have 2 days off from work!

2. The Canada Day camping trip plans are coming together nicely, and I can't friggin' wait to get out to the lake, and out of This City!

3. The Arts Festival went extremely well, and was a super duper funtastic day, and it gave me some motivation to get creating!

4. Mosaic is this weekend, plus, the JukeBox Hero is coming to visit!

5. Cable T.V rocks! Not only did I get home just in time to see Deadwood, I can set the timer on the guide so I don't miss Twitch City! Oh, Don McKellar, how I adore you!

6. For under $15, I bought 2 new books at Chapters tonight. Although I am already reading 3 books, I am going to start them tomorrow, as I drink overpriced coffee.

7. The Golden Dogs are playing at The Pub in July!

8. I purchased a really cute 2 piece bathing suit, that not only makes my boobs look boobtastic, but I am refusing to wear it to swim with the special people at work. It is just for me! (Believe me, this is the first time in years that I have been able to afford to buy 2 bathing suits, one for work, and one for play!)

9. My new digital camera makes me happy. I am learning that sometimes, it's okay to live in the 21st century.

10. My shitty mood of the past few days seems to be subsiding. Maybe it was just hormonal. Or maybe things are starting to look up.

May 25, 2007


Ok, I'm not one of those girls that watches "Sex and the City" and goes on and on about how I am just like so and so, or is convinced that my life is so similar to who and the what now. However, when I arrived home tonight from a night with wonderful friends and my Cheesy Bites from BK, turned on the television, and witnessed at least three eerily similar situations that I have been through in the past year in 22 minutes, well, I lost it. I knew exactly what those characters were going through, and how they felt. I contemplated throwing something through the bedroom window, just to hear the smash. I wanted to scream, and throw things about my bedroom, but realized that the few things that I own, really are important to me, if only for the very fact that I don't want to have to go out and buy them again. I wanted to take my savings, and just run so far away from here......

But, of course, I didn't. It would wake the roommates, and I would have to explain what was going on, and give V-Man money for the window. I would scare the cats. Although the fireworks the kids are setting off a block away are much louder, the neighbors would be more disturbed by the crazy lady screaming and smashing glass. I would have to call my mom, from some far off place, again, with no explanation as to why I was there. But it would feel good, damn good, to let loose on inanimate objects, and take off to fucking anywhere and start all over again.

Why do I feel so weak and ugly, when everyone around me tells me, every day, that they respect me and love me because I am so strong and beautiful?

The Weekend Has Arrived......

I can't believe it's Friday already. This week really has flown by. I haven't had a week that flew by in well, I can't remember when. This most likely has to do with how busy I was this week. For someone who only worked 2 days this week at her 'day' job, I sure have been a busy bee, getting ready for this festival.

So, I am relishing this last hour of relaxation I have today. I am going to drink coffee, and watch Law & Order. Once it is over, I have to hop in the shower, pack up my car, and get my butt over to Knuckle Toes' place, so we can spend the afternoon running around picking up mannequins, bank floats, shower curtains, business cards, and all the other last minute goodies we need for tomorrow.

Although it's been a busy week, it hasn't been bad in any way. Sure, I woke up this morning with something that is hopefully not pink eye, and I haven't had time to sleep for more than 4 hours a night, but other than that, it's been A-OK. I did a happy dance when I saw my bank account on payday (unlike last payday, when I called my boss and told her I thought they had made a mistake with the direct deposit!). I'm ecstatic that I now have enough money to buy a new camera, and a new stereo and back seat for my car! Work was super productive this week, and I think I am falling into place as the big boss lady quite nicely. I realized that every single guy that works in my field, is H-O-T, and had the pleasure of meeting a whole shwack of them over the past couple days. My brother the JukeBox Hero, has gotten the Canada Day camping trip plans under-way, and although we don't get what we want this year, he has been patient with me in making other plans, and I am confident that it will all work out. After this festival is over, my priority will be getting the camping trip plans finalized, and tracking down the elusive filmmaker that has my tent. Yay, camping!

And on that note, I need to get my butt in gear, and get this day over with, so I can sit and relax some more, on a hopefully sunny patio, with the ladies and enjoy and beer or two.

May 24, 2007

Going to the Psychic

I have been putting off going to a free psychic reading that I earned for 'giving out good energy', for months now. I know the psychic personally, and I respect her, and believe that she knows what she's talking about. Many of my friends have gone to her, most of them more than once, and everyone is amazed by what she knows, the things she tells them, and also how blunt she is when giving her readings.

I don't know exactly why I have been putting off going for my own reading. It's free, and free is a good price. She wants me to come and see her, and apparently has something important to tell me, or so I assume. She tells others who have gone to see her for a reading, that I will be okay, especially now that I have discarded a certain 'evil' from my life (her words), and she is happy and relieved that I did, because she was worried about me.

The fact that she has been mentioning me to others when they are getting their readings, has peaked my interest. Why does she care so much? What is it that she knows that I don't know? Why was she so worried about the 'evil'? Do I need to know what she knows?

The first few times that I met her, I thought that she hated me. The way that she looked at me, she would almost glare at me, and stare right through me. I mentioned it to the Cookster, and she told me that the psychic was listening to my spirit guides, or maybe looking at someone else that may be around me. That freaked me out a wee bit.

I think that one of the big reasons why I haven't gone to see her is that I'm afraid. A chicken-shit, if you may. What else does she know about me? Does she know all my secrets, all the bad things I have said and done? Will she bring up such things in the reading, reminding me of what a horrible human being I have been at times? What if she doesn't see a light at the end of my tunnel? What if she tells me things that I already know, and doesn't give me any hope for the future?

I know, I know, that all sounds ridiculous. But really, having a glimpse into my future, is a bit scary to me. Maybe because at the moment, OK, let's be honest, for a long time now, I have had no hopes, no dreams, no goals. I live life as it comes, and have never really thought of a goal I would like to achieve in a very long time. I can't see where I'm heading in life, so I have a hard time believing that she does. And what if I don't like what she has to say?

But, I think that I will go see her soon. Why not? Might as well bite the bullet, and see what she has to say. It can't do any real harm, right?

May 23, 2007

Eight Random Facts Meme

I should be away from this computer, and sitting at my sewing machine, or getting ready for work, but alas, I have been tagged by the Almighty Schmutzie , to tell y'all eight random facts about little ol' me, and I am going to comply, if only to procrastinate just a wee bit more.

1. I love watching and reading about ghosts and spirits, ghost stories, the supernatural and all that jazz. I like to think that there are people/spirits all around us, keeping an eye on us, and watching over us. At the moment I am watching Sylvia Brown on Montel. She is the only reason I tune into Montel, ever.

2. When I have chewed off all my fingernails, and there is no more nail to bite, I'll just chew the skin around the nail. Yep, I know you think I'm sexy.

3. I am still afraid of the guys in the white suits that quarantined poor little E.T.

4. Although I am Ukrainian, and love perogies, cabbage rolls, kielbasa, and all that yummy stuff, my favorite meal is still my mom's pork chops and rice, with a side of green beans from her garden.

5. In the past year, I have sat on, and broke, at least five picture frames.

6. Whenever I'm feeling down and out, and am not seeing the light at the end of the tunnel, I sit down and read "Oh, the Places You'll Go!" by Dr. Suess.

7. No matter how hard I try, I cannot for the life of me, get a tan on my legs.

8. I say some pretty horrible things to my alarm clock in the morning, as if it can understand me. If it was a person, it would never want to be my friend.

Ok, you're turn. In following the rules of the game, I am tagging 8 people to participate in the '8 things' meme as well. Do it, or not. Let me know if you do.

1. Dawn

2. Madame Diva

3. Wench

4. Knuckle Toes

5. Juke Box Hero

6. Jenifer

7. Typical Quirk

8. CupCate

Ah! The Festival's Coming!

One good thing about all this rain we've been having this week, is that it is keeping me at home, and forcing me to be productive.

As of right now, there are only 3 more sleeps until the Arts Festival, and I have about 20 different things I need to do to feel as if I am prepared. Like find my stapler, get a float, iron everything that's been sitting in bins all winter, price items, and so on. None of it will take all that long, thank goodness, since I'm back at work tonight and tomorrow, and Friday will be spent with Knuckle Toes , gathering last minute supplies and getting ready for set-up on Saturday morning, so today's the day to get 'er all done.

I have been bouncing between my sewing machine and the coffee table the past two days, busting my butt, trying to get enough bags and jewellery created as to make it look like I actually have some stock to sell. I didn't do much all winter, which would have been a perfect time to do such things, and here I am, week before the festival, driving myself mad. I really need to work on being less of a procrastinator. But not now, maybe another day.

I spent all day yesterday worrying about the amount of items I have to sell, but an email from Knuckle Toes this morning made me stop worrying so much. She reminded me that I always think that I don't have enough stock, and that the festival is only for one day, and I definitely have enough for one day of sales. So the worry is starting to subside, and the excitement of hangin' at our booth all day, selling our wares, and chattin' it up with customers is starting to kick in.

Now, if only the weather man can be wrong about the forecast, and let it be bright and sunny on Saturday, and retract his statement that there is a possibility of rain and snow, it'll all be good.

May 19, 2007

Saturday Night's Alright for Dancin'

My original plan was to stay in all weekend, due to having to work every morning, and having a bazillion things to do in order to prepare for the Arts Fest next weekend, but shortly after I arrived home from work, I decided 'fuck it', and decided it would be in my best interest to go out and get plastered tonight. Apparently, others had the same idea, because when I checked my messages, that seemed to be the consensus. It's gonna be a cold May Long Weekend Saturday night, and the patio will not be warm enough to sit on, but luckily, my favorite DJ is spinning the tunes tonight, so we can all get sweaty inside on the dance floor.

Plus, I just found out that my once attached girlfriends are now newly single, so I'm going to drag their butts out with me too. I haven't been dancing with the ladies in quite some time, and dancing by myself, while the boys talk hockey or whatever, has become a bit pathetic. (Although I don't think I'm as pathetic as the guy who dances by himself, and then tries to hold my hand throughout the night. He creeps me the fuck out, with his mute hand-holding.)

So watch out emo kids and young slutty bar stars, the cougars are coming out to play, and you better stay the fuck out of our way. We've got some steam to let off.

May 17, 2007

High School Reunion

Last week, I recieved an invitation to my 10 year high school reunion. Actually, my aunt had forwarded it to me in an email, but it was intended for my cousin, who graduated the same year I did. I started to laugh, thinking about how I never recieved my own invitation. I got a sly little smile on my face, thinking about how whomever is planning this little reunion probably either doesn't remember me, or has no idea where I am or how to find me. Just the way I wanted it.

By the time I finished high school, my mind was set on getting the fuck away from that town and those people. I started hanging out with my own little group of misfits, all younger or older than I, and basically shunned my graduating class, with a few exceptions. I was a popular kid, right from the get go. I was different than everyone else, but everyone liked me, and school was actually pretty fun for me. I knew everyone, I was in every extra-curricular activity I could fit into my schedule, and although I didn't go to class very often, I still graduated in the end. So, I don't really know where my contempt for my classmates came from. One day though, I just woke up, and decided I didn't want anything to do with any of them. I wanted bigger and better things. I wanted to travel, start my life and have adventures and misadventures. I am sure they did too, but I didn't care what they wanted. I was afraid of getting stuck there, being some drunken farmer/hockey players wife, and working at the diner for the rest of my life.

I don't think anyone really expected much from me. Teachers thought I was a problem, and were worried about the road to nowhere I was on. My former friends just didn't get me anymore, and although we were still polite to each other, and whatnot, there really wasn't any bond. It wasn't until Graduation Day though, that it really hit me that I didn't have anyone in my class that I even knew anymore. It was a bit sad, but by the end of the big party the next morning, I was content with my decision to cut them right out of my life. I can't remember why.

When I finally did leave town, there were only a few people I considered friends left there. Now, I have lost contact with almost every single person I grew up with. Sure, we can shoot the shit, and make small talk when we're back home for holidays and run into each other at various town functions, and it's all good. But the thought of spending a day golfing and a night eating steak with these people does not appeal to me in the least. I don't care what you're doing, or how much money you make, or how many kids you have. If I did, I would have kept in contact with you in the first place. I don't want the pressure of having to make myself sound uber-fantastic, when I show up there alone, 75 pounds heavier, without any of those regular old milestones under my belt.

So, I'm not going. I doubt anyone will notice, and that's fine with me. I've got better things to do that weekend anyways. The Folk Fest is going on, and I've got a booth to run, and live music to watch. My first love is getting married that weekend as well, and a road trip to ToonTown very well may be in order, and I will see all the old friends I actually give a shit about at the wedding.

Sorry, old high school chums. Enjoy your golf and your steak and your phony small talk, but I've got a life to live, and in it is no time to relive my teenage years.

May 14, 2007

Praying For a Not-so-Manic Monday

Whoa doggy, am I tired. I am almost (almost, I said) happy that I have to work until midnight the next couple of days, because I need to be forced to be a good girl, and give my body a rest.

I was supposed to get up early this morning and go for a walk, as I have been neglecting the exercise routine I was into for a few weeks, for about a week. However, I just could not get out of bed this morning for the life of me. I finally dragged my arse out of bed nearing noon, realizing that I had much sewing to get done, and only had a couple hours to do it before I had to get to the group home.

After a half hour of swearing at my sewing machine and cursing my inability to sew in a straight line, I decided just to drink more coffee, and hang out with the television for awhile. I told myself that it would be a good idea just to relax today in the little time I had to do it, and start fresh tomorrow. Re-energize. Get my head together.

I've been on a bit of a bender. A bender with an itinerary. It all started last Monday, when I contacted all the girls and we got together for drunken Scrabble on the patio in the sunshine. Tuesday, Mr. Hobbsley was back in town, and I felt it was necessary to get out and see him, since I haven't talked to him since Xmas. I got up early on Wednesday, to get some sewing done, and Wednesday night, I had to work, but still came home and stayed up until dawn by my lonesome. Thursday brought some bad news from a dear friend, five minutes before I went to work. As soon as I arrived at work, I started working on getting out of there to be with her, and a couple hours later, I was back at The Pub, for an uber-emotional night of drinking. By Friday, I realized I hadn't eaten in a couple of days, and didn't have any food anyways, so I forced myself into an afternoon of grocery shopping and housecleaning, before heading back to the frickin' pub, to meet up with friends, and head to the Reverend Horton Heat show, where I drank too much, danced just enough, and had a grand ol' time visiting with old friends who were drunker and more stoned than I. Saturday morning was spent tracking down the people I had made plans with during the week, but they were nowhere to be found. Knuckle Toes
and I finally found each other, (at guess where? The Pub!), and headed off for an afternoon of shopping for fabric and such, before returning downtown and joining friends for drinks and sunshine. After a few hours in the sun, I headed home to eat, take care of my new sunburn, and get ready to go out to a cabaret that I was to go to that evening. By the time I dragged my sorry ass back to The Pub, I had already decided to skip the cabaret, give away my ticket, and head home early to sit in front of the television. Well, I gave away my ticket,and sent the boys on their way, but shortly after I arrived, I met a couple of interesting people, and ended up sitting and talking with them for a few hours, as friends that I had been with in the afternoon started filtering back to the patio, as I had. I eventually put my foot down on myself, and headed home, knowing that if I didn't leave at that instant, I was going to be in for a very huge hangover the next day. I still ended up staying up all night, talking on the phone, and on Messenger, til almost dawn. Sunday was a productive day. I spent the majority of my day at the sewing machine, using up almost all of the fabric I had bought on Saturday, but there were more plans to be followed through on. Delores and I BBQ'd some supper, watched a movie, and then gave in to the many phone calls I had recieved all day to come back out to that black hole of a pub. We ended up playing pub trivia with the boys, even though we vowed that we wouldn't, and somehow we won a round of free beers, thanks to our knowledge of all things sexual, and who can turn down free beer? Not us.

So, I am welcoming Monday. I am somewhat grateful for the busy week at work that I am about to have, as it will keep me out of trouble, and sober. Not that last week wasn't fun, I had some great times, and good laughs, and was overjoyed to witness how well my group of friends can come together, and get along, when one of us is in need of just that. I love you all, with all my heart, but I need to give my liver a rest.

See you Wednesday then? ;)

May 11, 2007

New Career, Maybe?

I don't know why they would ask me to work for them, or what they got from my blog that made them say "We need Abigail on our team!", but hey, I guess it's flattering nonetheless. And definatly the most interesting email I've recieved so far today, no offense Bob Lefsetz.

Dear Abigail,

I came across your blog - very nice and interesting. It was a pleasure to browse your blog. You have very expressive and interesting writings on your blog, and I wish you all the best in your further blogging.

I am so and so, from company, may I hope that you've already heard about it. Our store is selling adult toys and gifts, DVDs, erotic books, and lingerie; we also have special categories for gay and lesbian community and an educational section, containing useful info on sexuality, intimate life, dating, relationships, and homosexuality. We even have a whole site dedicated to educational and funny sexy material at

We would like to establish a relationship with your site for better serve our and your visitors. This can contain simple link exchange, and I hope our customers will appreciate if we can give them a note about such quality resource. We will also appreciate a link from your blog to our site.

We are also looking to expand our essays section as well as other editorial content. needs people who can write well and be creative with our products; which requires a great deal of sexual expression and awareness. If you are interested in becoming a reviewer or writer, please email at (email addy removed) and submit a writing sample or link to your blog.

Please mail us your decision, or any other ideas, as we are definitely open to any good ideas-such as promo actions, events, interviews and so on.

Best regards,

So and So
EdenFantasys Team

* names and email address have been removed.

Cleaning House, Emotionally.

People really don't change. Not all that much, anyways. Sure people grow, and mature, and change their ways when they need to, but really, you are who you are, and there's no getting around it. Or maybe that's just me.

During the process of moving this blog over, I read a good chunk of my entries from over the years, basically just to see what I had written. I haven't changed all that much in the past three years. I still have low self-esteem, I still want to lose 20 pounds, I'm still lonely, and I am single once again. I still hang out at The Pub, I still live at The House of Pain, I still drink too much, I still stay up way too late. I have the same type of job, I still want more adventure and am willing to get the fuck out of here in a flash to find it.

It was a tad depressing to see that I could write the exact same entry today, as I did in 2004 or 2005. I didn't like feeling so boring.

After the blog entries were moved over, I decided to go through my email, and empty out my inbox. I hardly ever delete anything, and I had emails in that inbox dating all the way back to 2004, and folders full of emails dating back to 1998.

In the emails, I found evidence that I wasn't all that boring. Sure, there were the usual back and forth arguments between friends and past lovers, trying to figure out some issue that must have been important at the time. There were emails from and to my mom and dad, that were basically filled with worry about my brother, recipes, and apologies from me for not making it home for a holiday or other family event. But amongst all the emails that proved to me once again that my life hasn't changed all that much, were some wonderful memories. Memories and stories and adventures written out in detail. It was like finding an old journal that I had forgotten about, and some of those memories, truly had slipped my mind.

There was an email from a friend who I have now lost contact with, telling me that I was crazy for running away to Vancouver without telling anyone.

There were letters from B-Rock, telling me about all his adventures on his first trip to Europe almost 10 years ago.

There were many "let's keep in touch" letters from Small Town friends and people whom I had met travelling, and I felt a twang of guilt, knowing that it was I who had not put any effort into the keeping in touch.

I found loads of emails I had sent while I was in Scotland and England and France, and they were written in such great detail, that anything that I was unsure of, or couldn't quite remember about those travels, all came back to me, and I just had to sit back and reminisce about those adventures for a few minutes.

There were some wonderful emails from friends and family sending me their condolences after my dad died.

I was reminded about how excited I was that my partner in crime and I had been accepted into our first Arts Festival.

After reading emails about my various trips to Montreal, I almost packed my bags and headed to the bus depot, so I could get right back there.

There was a heart-wrenching email from only last summer, telling someone I had met travelling that I wasn't sure about them coming to visit anymore, because a boy had just told me he loved me while were sitting on the swings.

The emails went on and on. Birthdays I had missed, concerts I had gone to, tales of boys who had screwed me over, friends announcing they were moving away, getting married, or coming to visit. Photos of babies who are not babies anymore and I haven't even met them yet. Pleas for me to come and visit so and so wherever they were at the time. Camping trip stories, family reunions, love letters, arguments long forgotten, they were all there.

After sifting through the mass of emails, I realized that although my life may not be as exciting as I would like it to be, I have had some great adventures, I have found great love, and I have met some of the most wonderful people on the planet in my 'boring' life here in The City, and beyond. And hey, life isn't over. There is still time to experience even more.

I need to see the good things in my predictable life, and embrace them. Something of interest happens to me everyday. It may not be big and grandiose, it may be good, or not so good, but my life is far from boring. Every single day, I laugh, I cry, I meet someone new, I live through something that just gives me another story to tell or another lesson to learn.

I think that because I have had some great adventures, and good fun, and some hard times, that when there isn't anything big going on, I feel that I am not doing enough with my life, and fall into a rut. I daydream about running away on a moments notice, and in the past, that's just what I would do. But, there are ways in which I have changed. I know that I can't travel like I used to. I want to be financially secure. I want to have some form of stability in my life. I want to plan and organize and make sure things are going to work out in the end, before I do anything too spontaneous. Maybe that's just a sign of growing up. Instead of daydreaming about things I can do with my life here in The City, I've learned to just go out and do them, and am learning to be more fearless in plain old everyday life.

So sure, I haven't changed all that much, I'm still me, I still do the same old things, but I have grown, and I have learned a few life lessons and I'm ready for more. Life ain't so bad, and only I can make it better.

May 10, 2007

90 Days

Many weeks ago, when my days were filled with analyzing and tears, lying in bed immersed in depression and anxiety, wondering when it was all going to be better, I received a comment from someone.

She told me that going through a break-up can bring about actual physical responses in your body, and that you are going through a withdrawal, just like you would with anything else. It was going to take some time to get it all out of my system. In conversations with other friends about the same topic, they agreed that it takes your mind, as well as your body, quite a long time to heal, and there is no rushing it, people heal when they heal, and some take longer, especially when it comes to a broken heart.

However, because I couldn't stand the thought of being messed up over him indefinitely, I took the last part of her comment quite seriously. She told me that a friend of hers gave herself 90 days to completely get over a break-up. Ninety days didn't seem that long to me. Time flies, even when you aren't having any fun. I figured I'd pay attention, and see how it goes. My own little psychological experiment on myself.

After a few weeks of feeling like absolute shit, fighting anxiety attacks every day, and searching for my self-esteem and confidence all over the place, I started to feel better once the spring came, and I truly do credit my much more positive attitude to the weather. Spring fever was in the air, and I was reminded time and again that being single really can be fun when the weather is warm, and when you're out with your friends. You only have to worry about you. You can do what you want, and any consequences are your own. I didn't feel that I was mentally healthy enough just to run out and find someone else to date, or even jump into bed with for that matter, but knowing that I would be soon enough was a comforting thought. The knowledge that I had matured enough to know that I wasn't healthy enough to be with anyone, and I was just going to have to go it alone until I was, also made me feel much better about myself.

It wasn't until about day 60 or so though, that my thoughts were not consumed with that annoying little voice that kept telling me that maybe it could all work out, because I loved him. I stopped worrying about running into him, I stopped analyzing every little problem in the relationship and within myself, as much as I was. I still felt extremely lonely, but I could see all the good in my life, the positive changes I had made. I made big strides towards getting my self confidence back, without even realizing it, because I felt so low. I sang into a microphone that wasn't in the comforts of my own home, and am still getting compliments on my singing weeks later. I am selling my wares in an actual store, and they are flying off the shelves, and I am afraid I won't have anything left to sell at the Arts Festival in a couple weeks. I nabbed a job that pays well, and I truly enjoy. I started acting like myself again, and that brought about many wonderful compliments from friends and acquaintances, and young men who just wanted to dance with me, buy me a drink, and who just said all they wanted was to know my name, so they could explain to their friends who they were ogling.

But of course, despite all this good, when I was home, and alone, I was always wondering how he was doing. I was wondering if he was thinking about me. I waited for an email, a phone call, some sort of interaction. I wanted truthful answers, or even explanations that would be good enough, so I could put my mind at ease, but I didn't get them, and knew that I probably never would. I wanted him to be hurting just as much as I was, even though I knew that he wasn't. Above all else, I wanted to be able to be his friend, and keep things light and fluffy and kick my emotions to the curb so I could do just that, even though I was told time and time again that until I truly didn't care about him, that wasn't going to happen.

Around day 70, I started to think that friendship could happen, one day. When we talked, it was light and fluffy for the most part, with an air of uncomfortable phoniness. But no matter what I tried to tell myself, I still had feelings for him, for some reason that I couldn't put my finger on. Sure, I wasn't spending my days pining for him, shit I've got better things to do than that, but there was still something in the back of my brain and in my broken heart pestering me to be at my best and on my best behaviour, just in case he cared right back.

That all changed on day 73. I learned that he had moved on, long ago. Every thought I had in the 72 days prior, all of a sudden, like a kick in the face, came flooding back. Everything became clear, the wishful thinking, the horrible thoughts I had about myself, disappeared in an instant. With a clear head, I looked back on it all. I was embarrassed, and angry. Upset at the secrets kept from me, upset at the thought of all the lies, whether that is rational thinking or not. Upset at the feeling of being duped.Upset that I had been right all along, and should have just listened to my gut. Upset that he was right, I could do better. But mostly upset with myself, for not thinking I was good enough. And I was tired, tired of the tired game.

So here I am, at day 75. Angry, for so many reasons, but it's a healthy angry. I awoke today with a clear head, and a positive attitude, and a knowledge that I know what to do now to make myself better. Life isn't so bad when you're single, especially in the summer time. I have no interest in dating, I have no interest in getting my heart broken again. I don't deal with it very well, it's too hard. But at least I know who I am, and what I want, and most importantly, what I don't want. I'm ready to just get back to being me, and moving on, and just enjoying the company of friends and lovers.

Not that I'm all better. I am still hurt and damaged. I can't help but feel that the universe has played a little joke on me. But, day ninety isn't so far away anymore, and I can't help but wonder if the whole "it takes 90 days" theory isn't just bang on.

May 9, 2007

Welcome To Your New Home, Blog

Surfing The Interweb Tide

I should be doing, oh say, about 25 different things about now, but instead, I just came home from work, (yes, I did have to go in on my day off), and sat down at the computer and started surfing the neverending Interweb. Oh, and of course, I'm having a beer, while listening to my new Serena Ryder disc. So, really, I'm not being totally unproductive.

I had never heard of it until today, but found out about this movie via Madame Diva, and just had to find out who my own demon was.

Retrocrush, caught my attention for an hour or so, which is pretty amazing, as I have a short attention span when it comes to this whole Interweb. I especially liked their list of "100 Worst Cover Songs".

The Single Guy's Guide to Dating, and his description of his ideal woman, made me almost pee my pants laughing.

I need to go grocery shopping. While searching for a recipe that could help me spice up my insane amount of ground beef I have to use, but don't know what to do with, I came across this.

I signed up to recieve The Lefsetz Letter after seeing Bob Lefsetz on The Hour, and although I like to hear what he has to say, I think I need to unsubscribe from his email list, now that I realize he has a frickin' blog. Seriously, this man sends me like 3 emails a day, that I don't have time to read.

And speaking of "The Hour", how excited was I to find out that there will be a segment on fainting goats tonight. Damn, I loves the fainting goats.

Heebie-Geebie is some good reading.

Although I like to just fly by the seat of my pants, sometimes, I do need a little direction. That's why I am loving Instructables.

And on that note, I have a shitload of sewing to get done tonight, in order to get ready for the upcoming Arts Festival, and I need to iron a bunch of bags and skirts so I can make some more money over at the newest Angel Shadowz healing centre.

Check ya later, have a good one.