Sometimes, I Just Want to Bitch Slap Myself.

Wow. I came home last night, after a mostly perfectly pleasant and uneventful evening at The Pub, and the second I got in the door, turned into the biggest sourpuss, poopypants I've ever seen. It was a good night, overall. Cousin Mike took me out to supper, and then we went to find GQ and Delores. Other than GQ's rants about how the world is against him, it was a nice quiet evening. I didn't have a panic attack when we ran into the ex-boyfriend, and the sight of all of the pregnant waitresses only pained me for a moment, when their beautiful bellies and their proud, smiling boyfriends got me thinking about how that just isn't going to be something I will experience in life. When it was time to leave, Delores and I lucked out and got the most amazingly funny cab driver, and I got out of the cab laughing hysterically, and applauding myself for making it through the night, drama free.

Maybe it was my choice of music. I headed to my room, put the CD changer on random, and Radiohead, Hayden and a sad and lonely Beck, began to sing to me their woes. Their problems reminded me of my current problems, and problems that have long been solved. I broke my carnal rule, of not blogging after the bar, or when I have been drinking, and started to write things like:

The feeling that you aren't worth it. Worth the trouble, worth the time, worth anything. You aren't special enough. The knowledge that you, just being yourself, is the problem. Your best friend, your lover, that person who said they wanted to get to know you, and then changed their mind,your whatever it was, you weren't good enough for anybody. Good things that are said about you, can just be deleted, and compliments to you are somehow ignored by you alone. Now that's a horrible feeling. If I could just be who they wanted me to be, all the time, everything would be Ok.

Thank god, I fell asleep before I posted it. Not only is that just plain horrible writing, but I was feeling pretty OK with myself, and that depressing bullshit seemed to come right out of left field. Believe me, it got worse after that. Had I posted it, and it was read this morning, said reader would be sitting there wondering if I had just offed myself in the night.

Today is a new day. I feel rested and relaxed, even though my body yet again refused to let me sleep in. The sun is shining, I only have to work for 2 hours, and my DJ gave me the hugest compliment out of nowhere and then made me promise to come and dance for him tonight, and let off some steam.

It will be a good day, a good night, a good weekend of fun. I can feel it.

It's a Meme Kind of Day

It's just that kind of day. I have loads to say, but no motivation to write it down. I feel an illness of some sort coming on, I've only had a couple hours sleep, and I've got to get some things done around the house before Cousin Mike gets here from ToonTown. Thus, the reason why I am doing this meme.

Happy Friday everyone, hope the weekend treats you well.

10 FAVORITES

# Favorite Color: I like to wear 'earthy' colors, and be surrounded by bold color.
# Favorite Food: Today it will be Steak and Mushroom pizza with Cheezy Cheddar dip from Panago. Mmm....I've gots the munchies.
# Favorite Month: July, or maybe April?
# Favorite Song: "Harvest Moon" by Neil Young
# Favorite Movie: That's a toughy. I don't think I can narrow it down to one. But gunning for first are "Breakfast at Tiffany's", "Lost in Translation", "Pulp Fiction" and "The Maltese Falcon".
# Favorite Sport: Thanks to Hobbsley, I am now addicted to soccer, and I watch hockey if it's the playoffs or the Olympics or something like that. I don't play any sports anymore, unless Frisbee and speed-walking through the 'hood count as sports.
# Favorite Season: Spring!!!
# Favorite Day of the week: Sunday. The day of relaxation, BBQ's and beer. Oh wait, that's everyday for me.
# Favorite Ice Cream Flavor: I worked at an ice cream shop one summer, and became addicted to Cookie Dough with a lump of Maple Walnut.
# Favorite Time of Day: Whenever I am finished work, on any given day.

9 CURRENTS

# Current Mood: I'm mad. I'm sad. I'm happy. No, I'm MAPPY.
# Current Taste: I smell like a swimming pool, so I'm guessing I taste a lot like chlorine.
# Current Clothes: dark brown yoga pants, black tank top.
# Current Desktop: you can see it here.
# Current Toenail Color: At one point, I think they were supposed to be a nice peach color, now they just look like they're caked in beach sand.
# Current Time: 9:41 am.
# Current Surroundings: piles of reciepts, photos, laundry, garbage. I really need to clean this room, pronto.
# Current Thoughts: "Yay! Cousin Mike's coming!", "Did they look at my resume yet?", "Maybe I should go outside for some fresh air?"

8 FIRSTS

# First Best Friend: Chad. Wonder what he's up to now?
# First Kiss: I really can't remember. Probably some boy at the lake, I'm guessing.
# First Screen Name: Nitemarehippiegirl.
# First Pet: I don't remember him, but there is photographic evidence that I had a dog named Snoopy.
# First Piercing: Earlobes.
# First Crush: Neighbor boy, who was like 10 years older than me. Oh, that mullet...
# First CD: Beck's "Mellow Gold".

7 LASTS

# Last Cigarette: About 10 minutes ago.
# Last Drink: Pint at The Pub about 12 hours ago.
# Last Car Ride: Taxi home from The Pub, about 12 hours ago.
# Last Kiss: Obligatory 'good-bye' kiss from The Unknown Poet.
# Last Movie Seen: Wow, I haven't watched a movie in ages. I think the last one would have been "Say Anything" at the library, unless I have blocked from my memory all movies that I watched after that.
# Last Phone Call: The Cookster, calling from work.
# Last CD Played: "The Bends", Radiohead. Classic.

6 HAVE YOU EVERS

# Have You Ever Dated One Of Your Best Guy/Girl Friends: Sure have.
# Have You Ever Broken the Law: Underage drinking, driving while impaired,breaking and entering, theft under $5, drinking in a public place, stealing road signs,speeding, parking in handicapped zones, etc. Yup, I'm a rebel without a cause alright.
# Have You Ever Been Arrested: Not to my knowledge.
# Have You Ever Skinny Dipped: Living at a lake every summer? Of course I did.
# Have You Ever Been on TV: Technically, yes I have. I've been in the newpaper loads of times though.
# Have You Ever Kissed Someone You Didn’t Know: Sure.

5 THINGS

# Thing You’re Wearing: pants, bra, shirt, necklace, spectacles.
# Things You’ve Done Today: Yelled at the cats, had a shower, typed up a cover letter,made coffee,made my bed.
# Things You Can Hear Right Now: Cars driving by, the plaintive wail of my horny kitty, my stomach growling
# Thing You Can’t Live Without: Friends who love me, who I love right back.
# Thing You Do When You’re Bored: Go for a walk.

4 PLACES YOU’VE BEEN TODAY

# The bathroom.
# The kitchen.
# The living room.
# That's it...dammit, I've gotta get out of the house.

3 PEOPLE YOU CAN TELL ANYTHING TO

# The Cookster.
# Delores.
# My mom.

2 CHOICES

# Black or White: I hate white. It gets dirty too fast. So, black.
# Hot or Cold: Hot. Hot baths, hot coffee, hot sex,hot weather, it's all good.

1 THING YOU WANT TO DO BEFORE YOU DIE

# Go to Africa.

It Had To Happen Sometime I Guess....

My horoscope for March 27th, 2007: There is no time (or reason) to mull things over. Just get it done. This rough patch of your recent history is, believe it or not, a great opportunity to learn how to change things for the better. Stop bemoaning your fate. Figure out the divine lesson in these events.

I woke up this morning, called in to work and said I wouldn't be in, looked out the kitchen window, and thought "Hey, did I park on the street last night?". I quickly realized that I did not, and that my car was fucking stolen. Probably by the neighborhood hooligans. Maybe some karma, for not going to work when I should have? I don't know. I can't do my job without a vehicle anyways, so now I'm not exactly sure what's going to happen, if the cops don't find it. The Cookster doesn't have a car right now either, so maybe we can both just ride around on my bicycle, and tow our autistic participants in a little red wagon behind us to all of our jobs and outings.

I was worried about not having enough gasoline to do all the driving that my job requires this week, and I guess that now, I don't have to worry about that. Now I just need a whole new car. Jokes on them though. They couldn't have gotten far on a quarter tank, all the CD's in there were burned discs and totally un-pawnable, and the brakes are going, so I hope they didn't try to go too fast, cause they'd be fucked when they tried to stop.

I hope they just took it for a joyride and left it somewhere (in the city, preferrably) when it ran out of gas. I hope the only damage is the window and the starter, and they didn't bust up the steering column too bad. I hope they didn't take it out to the middle of nowhere and light it on fire, because all of my camping gear was in the trunk, and if you fuck with my camping supplies, I'll fuck you up. I hope the cops catch them before I do, because I don't need an assault charge. Actually, moneywise, I'd probably be better off if they totalled the car, because I don't think I could afford the repairs.

In reality, the damn car is gone. It'll be a cold day in hell, if they find it. (Oh wait, it's snowing!It must be my lucky day!) I am going to go through a hell of a lot of bullshit with SGI, and in the end, I'll have no car, no money, and a royal headache. I took the day off, so I could get things done, but now I can't leave the house, because I have to be here when the adjuster calls, if they do.

My horoscope for the day has told me to find the 'divine lesson' in all the recent shitty events in my life. I don't know about anything else yet, but when it comes to my car, I guess that the lesson would be to put a club on the next one, and park inside the house, so the little fuckers can't get at it.

Have a good day everyone!


Update:The cops found my car, everything in it is gone, and they say it looks like it'll be a right-off, windows and steering column are smashed, among other things. They fingerprinted it, and sent it to SGI. Now I just have to wait until my adjuster calls me back to tell me if I'm getting any money back for it, which could be 2 to 7 days. Yippee. Now, I just have to figure out what to do about work.....sheesh. What a pain in the butt.

Money, Money, Money, Money...and Sunshine!

I am twenty-eight. Twenty-eight. What a boring number. It doesn't make me feel old, like twenty-five did, but it also doesn't make me feel young and carefree like good old twenty-seven. Oh, twenty-seven, rock and roll death age that you are, how I adored you. Twenty-eight just makes me feel boring. Oh, who am I to blame a number for being bored with life? That's just crazy talk.

I need some change in my life. Change is but a new job away for me at the moment. Been handing out resumes, and have planned to take the day off from my day job tomorrow, to get some more printed out, and do some schmoozing, before heading to my night job. Although I love where I am at now, good people, good fun, good learning experiences, and excellent hours and holidays, I just can't live off the wage they are paying me anymore, and there is no way I can get more money out of them, because there isn't any. Just one of the joys of working for an agency that deals with the handicapped.

Financially, it's been a rough few months. Sure, I get by. If I never spent any money on myself, for example, nights out, new clothes, take-out, cigarettes, movies, craft supplies, film developing to name but a few, I'd be flush. Paying rent, loan payments, mutual funds, car insurance and all that wouldn't even faze me. But, I like having money. I like the feeling I get when I look at my paycheck, and just know that everything will be covered, and I'll have lots left over for selfish little me to spend and save.

Saving money is a talent that has always eluded me. I have never been very good at it, unless a wonderful reward will come of it, which for me is usually travelling and concerts. However, it is something I would really, truly like to start doing, in order to bring some more change into my life, and only a better paying job will do that. I want to do road trips this summer, I want to move into my own place, I want to fix my car, I want to save to go on a trip next winter. Shit, I want to fix my cat, go see Willie Nelson, and buy new glasses.

It's a shame that I am going to have to leave a job and a workplace that I adore though. If something better does come up, and I have to give my two weeks notice, well, that's just going to be hard. This employer took me on, without an interview, without following any of the rules of hiring that they do with other people, just because I asked for a job, and they knew me from long ago, and thought I was pretty right on. They found a position for me, that I required little training on, and they just put me to work, and have let me do my own thing ever since, because they trust me, and they know I do my job well. It makes me a little sad. But, money makes the world go 'round, and they don't have any for me.

But hey, it's Spring. Loads of change is bound to happen. So far, it's been a great season. Have been walking 'round the lake everyday, haven't worn socks or a coat in over a week. We fired up the BBQ for the first time this year on the weekend, and then got the old firepit going Saturday night. Started picking up the garbage that blew in over the winter and raking the pine cones in the yard on Sunday, and the V-Man is building a table for us to sit at while we're enjoying the sunshine.

So, I guess Spring makes life good and hopefully it'll make it more exciting as well.

24 Things I Thought Would Be Fun, But Weren't (as stolen from Schmutzie)

I love making lists. But this list, was a doozy and a half to do. I have done alot of stupid things in my life, but it took me awhile to think of something that I regretted in some way. Even my stupidest moments, I see humour in, and to me, they were fun when all was said and done. It would probably be easier to write a list of "101 Things I Thought Were a Good Idea at the Time, and Would Work Out in My Favor, But Were Just Plain Ridiculous, and I'm Still Glad I Did 'Em", which I guess in a way, is what this list is. Well, enough of my jabbering on, let's get to the list at hand.

1. Dating that guy, just because he had a house and a car and pets, because I thought that's what a grown up was supposed to do.

2. Bleaching my hair with Blonde Issima at that bush party, and forgetting to rinse out the dye until a few hours later, because I was busy making out with my boyfriend in my car.

3. Showing up for my last day of work at an old job, on zero sleep and drunk as a skunk, thinking, "Fuck, what are they gonna do, fire me?"

4. Piercings. Abigail + Any kind of Metal = Allergic Reaction.

5. Accepting gifts and favors from someone who I thought was just being a good friend, but turned out to be a stalker.

6. Going to Paris with enough cash to buy a one euro bottle of wine and some melba toasts.

7. Arriving in Halifax on Halloween Night.

8. Doing drugs in a cemetary.

9. Bringing a hamster to a friend I was visiting in the psych centre, against my parents wishes.

10. Making out with that hockey player who promised he wouldn't tell anyone at school.

11. Drinking half a watermelon full of vodka and 6 beer at a party, when I had never drank before and had to go to school in the morning.

12. Tearing the labels off of some "Dad's Root Beer" bottles, and driving past the "look-out", so when the cops pulled us over for drinking and driving, I could stick it to the man.

13. Spending a winter vacation at a friends cabin, with no change of clothes, living off bologna, tequila and Butter Ripple Shnapps.

14. Filling that canoe with water, just to see if we could get it up from the bottom of the lake when it sank.

15. Hooking the GT Racer to the hitch of my car.

16. Stealing chocolate bars from the bible camp and then putting them in the holes of the playground apparatus at the beach, so kids who really deserved them could enjoy their chocolaty goodness when they came out to play in the morning.

17. Screech.

18. Shaving an undercut into my hair, so I could have that cool (at the time) "bald with a pony tail" look.

19. Taking the old Fire Guard road to the lake in the spring, so I wouldn't have to pay to get in the park.

20. Calling all those cowboys at the bar during Agribition "posers".

21. Stealing my cousin's clothes and burying them in the mud, because I hated her so much.( I wasn't alone in that endeavor, you know who you are)

22. Rigging up that rock on a rope, so we could catch people that trespassed in our fort.

23. Jumping through the gap of 2 burning bales, wearing baggy old man polyester pants, because the boys dared me to.

24. Eating that big bowl of popcorn an hour ago, when I wasn't even hungry.


* If you want to do your own list, go right ahead, but just go back and link it to Schmutzie's post, in the comments. Thanks.

Marble Losing, 101

I constantly feel like I'm on the verge of a panic attack. Well, I shouldn't say constantly, because that's a bit of an exaggeration, but this feeling is becoming almost a daily occurance, and an annoyance. During the week, it happens in the evening, on the weekend, it begins the second I wake up. Heart beating rapidly, butterflies in my stomach, shaking, loss of appetite. Out of nowhere, I feel like I need to cry. Just when I think that the anxiety attack is coming, all the symptoms stop, and the body returns to normal, but that nervous feeling in my chest and stomach can still linger. It's almost as if I feel like something big is going to happen, but I just can't put my finger on why it is bothering me, or what is bothering me, for that matter.

Things that I enjoy, and do all the time, have been plagued by the anxiety. Going to the grocery store today was terrifying. I ran into someone I knew, and when he stopped to chat, I felt flustered and nervous, when normally, I'd yell "Hey!" and talk his ear off. All day, I wanted to walk downtown, have a coffee and read a book, but all of a sudden, it all just seems like it would be too much, and I don't want to go alone. Normally, I would relish the thought of having an afternoon to myself, reading and relaxing, and keeping an eye out for someone interesting to talk to.

This really is starting to tick me off. I love crowds, I love wandering about town by myself, I love people, I generally just love life. I have no major fears, and I can handle anything life throws at me.

Is the sky falling? No. Am I crazy? I sure hope not, but I'm guessing no. I just don't know what is wrong, and what is setting off this feeling of anxiety. I want to figure it out, I want to go back to feeling laid back and anxiety free. This is not me. This too shall pass. I hope.

Dear St. Paddy's Day,

Ah, St. Paddy's Day. Back so soon? And on a Saturday yet.

You must be under the assumption that I am prepared for the chaos and mayhem that is this day of yours. I tried to prepare, I really did. I stayed home last night and watched hours of TV and ate pizza, before falling asleep on the couch at a very early hour. Because I fell asleep so early, I was awake quite early as well. This was good, as I need time to shower, drink my instant coffee (blech, but thank the Almighty Jeebus for camping supplies) and find some green clothes, and possibly go out and buy a silly hat for this occassion.

As I look around the room, I notice that I haven't even thrown out the doo-dad's I acquired from the last St. Paddy's Day, and I realize that time just goes by too darn fast. I have more Guinness paraphanelia than a girl could ever need, especially a girl who doesn't normally drink Guinness. I'm guessing that I'll be the proud owner of yet another Guinness T-shirt and possibly many black balloons before the day is done.

Because you have landed on a Saturday, I can't even enjoy a day off in the comforts of my own home. The Pub is open for business already, and the queue will begin in the early afternoon. I made a hasty promise to my friends, that I would meet them for "breakfast" and help them secure a table for the day. I don't think I will make it on time, and it looks like I will spend the night sitting on top of the table, or squished into a railing, just like every other year.

Yes, I sound like a big whiny baby. I'm sure that will change though, once I walk downtown, sneak in past the crowd and join my friends and accquaintances, who are no doubt much more excited about this day than I am at the moment. We will drink and sing and be merry, while pipers walk amongst us, belting out "Amazing Grace" and "Danny Boy".

It won't be so bad. With any luck, I'll be on my way out the door, as soon as the first fist fight starts, and be long gone before that guy who dresses up as a leprauchan every year decides to start doing stripteases on the tables for horrified 19 year old girls.

So here's to St. Paddy's Day, the day of Guinness, extremely large crowds of drunk people who wish they were Irish, and peeing in the back alley, because the queue to the bathroom is 8 miles long.

Cheers!

My Visual DNA, (via Saviabella)

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Weekend Re-Cap

Just a few random thoughts I had over the weekend.....

It now takes me 48 hours to recover from 8 hours of fun and games.

Dancing in polyester for 6 hours, is not only uncomfortable, but makes you smell like dirty, rotten socks.

After the DJ calls you over to the DJ booth to do the Wild Thing with him, all the little girls that were pushing you around and glaring at you earlier, now look at you like you're God.

Just because you aren't interested in them, doesn't mean it isn't a compliment. (Thanks Cookster, that one is yours.)

It can take months to create something, but only seconds to delete it from your life.

If I drink 2 extra-large, extra energy cups of coffee, I can zip around the lake in 45 minutes, and have the shakes for no less than 5 hours.

Due to the incessant bleaching of my hair all those years ago, hair dye only lasts about a week.

I can't wait to ride my bike.

Depression and anxiety gave me a good head start on my weight loss plan.

Getting your confidence back, is sometimes as easy as going out for coffee late on Friday night.

The ability to go outside in the sunshine without a coat, makes everyone happy and scrappy.

I've still got it.

Spring Has Sprung!!!

Friday, Mar. 09, 2007

Thank you Mother Nature, for the sunshine, the above zero temperatures,extraordinarily huge puddles, the slush, the horribly deep tire ruts on the side streets, my dirty as hell car, and my wet sloppy shoes. I am extremely grateful for it all.

It is an amazing feeling, being able to walk out of the house, without a heavy coat, or mitts or a toque. I love not having to start my car a half hour before I leave for work in the morning. I love that I can now spend my afternoons walking and laughing in the park, soaking up all the Vitamin D I possibly can. I love that there was a grasshopper spotting today, and everyone I see is shitting sunshine and rainbows.

But mostly, I love the fact that sitting at this computer, writing this silly entry, while the sun is shining and kids are splashing about in the puddles, makes me anxious to grab a coffee, and just go frolic about town with my MP3 player, and go looking for adventure.

Which is what I'm going to do. Ciao.


If this was an acceptance speech, I would also thank SPRING, and the weather it brings, for the ability to smoke outside without freezing, crazy people who sing as they march down the street, the BBQ we're going to light up ASAP, and for giving me the ability to see change as a darn good thing.

I'm Getting There, Thanks for Your Patience

I walked into work today, in my sweatpants, grunting about coffee, rummaging for change in my bag, so I could partake in the greatness that is our coffee machine in the hallway. I had gotten about 2 hours sleep, due to turning into a raging psycho in the safety of my bedroom at about 11:00pm, and not being able to bring the adrenaline rush to a halt. Nobody yelled "Good Morning Abigail!!", like they normally do, and I noticed that as I was standing at the coffee machine, the others in line were just hanging back a bit, like they were watching a volcano slowly erupt, and wanted to watch, but only at a safe distance. One of my most favorite co-workers, walked past as I was heading to my locker with my coffee, and said "Hey sweety, that heart of yours feeling better yet?". I blew.

"What the fuck is wrong with me?!?", I yelled as I slammed through the room, signing my timecard and putting my things away. As people (all female) came in and out of the room, they all had some sort of advice that I had heard already, like "You can't just get over it in a day", "It'll take some time, don't worry, you're normal", "You're doing better than I would be", or my least favorite, "He's an asshole, because you're great." Hate the negative comments most, especially when they come from people that hardly know me, but they mean well, I'm sure. The Cookster arrived at work shortly after all of this, and told me that her and Badu have decided that what I need is to hook up with a younger man, it's worked for them. "Might as well", I thought, "I always joked that I was going to be a cougar one day, so better start practicing now."* :)

Once the room cleared out, and I was a bit calmer after my little temper tantrum, I turned to my "token male" co-worker (as he calls himself), and asked him straight out why he thought girls took longer to get over break-ups than guys. I've seen it with all the male friends I've had over the years, one day, they're heartbroken and want to end it all, the next day, they're banging some chick they met at the bar an hour earlier, and a few days later, they're with someone else entirely, getting that re-bound relationship out of the way. Sure, girls do that too, I've done that myself, but it really is much more common to see the females taking their sweet time getting over whoever it was that broke their heart. He didn't seem to know why girls did what they did, which surprised me, as he's really close to his sisters, but told me flat out, that if I wanted to hear why guys did what they did, he wasn't going to sugar-coat it for me, and he was probably going to hurt my feelings.

"He was over you, before you even broke up.", he said matter-of -factly.

"But...." I started.

"No, we all are. We made the decision long before we dumped you, and then choose to do the dumping at the most inconvenient, well convenient for us, moment, just to get it over with."

"But why do you have to move on so fast?", I whined.

"I just told you, we're already over you. I met, and started dating my current wife, the day after I dumped the last girl I was with. I was done." He shrugged his shoulders.

"Well, what I'm gonna do then, is just go out there and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck and fuck!! I'm done with dating!" I giggled, then slammed my head down on the table.

"Now, that disturbs me. Alot."

"Oh shush, I'm just being a girl."

I really started to think hard about all this. Handsome Joe had told me something along the same lines just last week, only it sounded a bit more harsh at the time, but maybe that was because he was telling me everything in 'list' formation, while counting off his statements on his fingers. Every guy I've talked to, says "sometimes things just don't work out", and then points out someone I could hook up with instead. All of them have been logical, cool-headed and harsh sounding, but they give me a hug and a compliment before they continue on their way. Not to say that the girls in my life haven't been logical either, and they've been the first ones to step up and give me shit about shitting on myself.

By the end of the day, I was thinking a bit more logically, and all the thoughts running throught my brain were less candy-coated. What happened to me? There was a time, when I loved myself, and in a way, I did act like a guy. I drank like a guy, I socialized like a guy, I fucked around like a guy. I could be loud and brash and girly and flirtatious all at the same time, and with the exception of those PMS- fuelled, but hornier than hell, low self-esteem days, and the deadly aftermath of a couple nasty burns, I truly was perfectly happy, going out, getting attention, and coming home alone to bask in the glow of the ego-trip, if that's what I decided to do. For the past week or so, every single person I've run into, friend or not, has come up to me, complimented my clothes, my new hair, my face, told me I was funny or that they loved my laugh, or couldn't wait to hang out with me again, or said I could call them any time if I needed anything. I've heard more "I love you's", than a person could ever hope for,from friends as well as some people I would least expect it from. It clicked today, that no one I give a crap about thinks anything bad about me, I'm the only one who thinks I'm not a good enough me. Anyone who has a problem with me, I don't care about anyways, and I brush it off.

It's time to let this healing continue on it's natural course, stop impeding its process by asking "Why?", and get myself back to who I want to be. Because, you're right Mr. Head, there isn't much time left, and there's no need to waste what time I have wallowing in self-pity. It's not sexy. :)

* Note: I do not see any of my friends that are currently dating or married to younger guys, as cougars.

If Winter Doesn't End Soon, I'm Gonna Kick Mother Nature in the Box

It amazes me how quickly and easily I slid back into my old single life. I was worried about what I would do with all my free time, now that it isn't filled with a boyfriend, but I just bounced right back into the life of an old maid.

Going to work isn't such a horrible thing anymore, because I figure I've gotta do something productive in my day, and taking on extra shifts at my second job, just gives me something extra to do at night. Working keeps my mind off of my troubles, until I get the craptastic paycheck at the end of the month. When at home, I spend my time cleaning the kitchen and folding blankets, or sitting in my bedroom watching fuzzy CBC television, half-ass listening to whatever happens to be on until "The Hour" comes on, and then I actually pay attention to the TV. At the same time, I'm drinking copius amounts of tea (with the exception of those special days, when a glass of wine or three is in order), while playing multiple games of Scrabble online and surfing the interweb. Of course, there will be the days, when I am feeling spunky and the living room will be empty, and I will spend the day making jewellery and sewing, while watching CSI re-runs.

When I go out, to the same old place, I'm charming as all hell to strangers and people I rarely see, and the looks on their faces give me a bit of an ego boost. When I talk to them, I know I've still got it, and when I let it show, I've got one kick ass personality. When it's just my friends, and I feel comfortable letting myself go a bit if I'm in a mood, I will whine and complain about how bored and lonely I am, and ignore their comments about how I can do anything because I am so damn wonderful, and the right person for me is right around the corner, if only I'd just put myself out there.

Once this winter weather finally leaves us, and the warm sun starts to melt the snow, I will spend my alone time going for walks, and reading in the park, eventually ending up at the patio of The Pub, laughing and drinking and singing and playing frisbee with the summer friends ,as well as the regulars. It will be fun, and I will have many hungover mornings at work, because I just didn't want to go home, or go inside, or leave the laughter and merriment that only happens in the summer in The City.

Don't get me wrong, it isn't a horrible life. It's just a bit irritating, how easily I can predict it.

3 Topics, 3 Paragraphs, No Particular Order

All weekend, no matter what time I hit the hay the night before, I have been waking up at 7:17am, then forcing myself to go back to sleep for a few hours, and then finally waking for good at 10:27am, with extreme anxiety. I wonder if during the night I am living some type of "Amityville Horror" type life, and maybe some event that I can't recall is happening at 7:17am, and ends at 10:27am, forcing my body to snap out of it's trance.

So, today began with bitter, irrational thoughts. Maybe it's because I woke up grouchy, walked into the kitchen and realized that I forgot to buy coffee, and for the second day in a row, have been forced to drink tea. While the kettle was boiling the water this morning, I sat in the kitchen thinking about what he was doing this morning, which quickly jumped to thoughts about who he was doing this morning, and if it was going on on my duvet, and sent a telepathic message to him that I could have gotten laid too last night, but I just didn't put in the effort. I mentally slapped myself back to reality, and blamed it on the fact that I spent a sober night at The Pub watching people around me throw their morals out the window, just to feel validated in some way, as well as listen to a couple of my dearest girlfriends talk about the bullshit that they are going through, and realized I am not alone in the "I feel like a fucking loser, and why doesn't anybody love me, there must be something terribly wrong with me" department. Which, evil as it sounds, makes me feel a tad better.

Last night, when it clicked in my brain that I have friends that are feeling the same as I was, I snapped out of my funk for a few minutes. "These girls are fucking fantastic," I thought to myself, "And any asshole that doesn't see that isn't good enough for them anyways." Amazing how you can be so confident about others and they're wondrousness, but still think that you're a piece of shit on a shoe.

Little Miss Lonely Pants

I just feel sick.

No, not in a I'm-puking-my-guts-out-and-feel-like-crapping-my-pants kind of way, although having that leftover taco for breakfast wasn't the best idea I've had in my lifetime. I awoke this morning with a horrible feeling of anxiety, even before I realized I was awake, and I haven't been able to shake it. I've been wandering about the house, feeling nervous,depressed and jumpy and it's getting worse as the day goes on.

I really don't know what is going on with me. Maybe my friends are right, I'm in a state of grieving, and it's going to take some time to get through all the steps. But, it's been a week since the break-up, and although I feel like my anger about being dumped, and my anger and pity for myself is subsiding, other not-so-nice feelings and emotions are just taking the place of the anger and frustration.

One of my first thoughts this morning was that, all of a sudden I have more free time than I know what to do with. After tonight, I can't afford to go out for awhile, and I'm going to need to stay in. Normally, this wouldn't bother me so much, and I know that I have alot I can do around here to stay busy and be creative, and a few nights at home will be good for my sleep deprived body. But, I haven't been doing so good, being alone.

I was alone for years. For the most part, I loved being by myself, having no one to answer to, going out when I felt like it, enjoying being an independant spirit. But now that I've had a taste of what it's like having a partner in crime of sorts, having that someone to just hang out with, laugh with, and talk to everyday....that comfort, that you are not alone in the world, and you have someone who is willing to jump in and help you in any way you need it.....well, it makes it hard to want to go back to being alone. It makes the thought of now having all this "free time" somewhat unbearable. I have proven to myself, that I can take care of myself, and everything will always work out in the end, but the thought of having to start all over again, once this depression subsides, well, that's when the anxiety sets in.

I shouldn't feel lonely. I am surrounded by good people all day long. My girlfriends have been amazing, putting up with my incessant phone calls, my ranting, my crying, my self-loathing. Everyone has been carrying out their duties as friends and family to a tee, listening and consoling, and even giving me supreme shit if necessary, just like I would do for them if they were in this situation. Although I love them for that, and I do feel lucky, I just can't shake this feeling that I have, this fear of being on my own. Not yet. But, it will come. Right?

Annoying Rambling on a Friday Night

Over the past few years, I have become more of a Saturday Night person, than a Friday Night person. Maybe it was because of my group home job, and the night shifts that came along with it, but I really started to relish the thought of laying on the couch on Friday night, watching multiple episodes of What Not to Wear, and eating a big bowl of popcorn all by myself. When I have my way, Friday is my night to wind down, and veg out, while Saturday is my night to shine, and burn some energy dancing and drinking and socializing.

Last night, after a gruelling, emotional rollercoaster of a day, I kicked myself out of the house, and headed to The Pub. I had just about had it with my own self, and needed to get away from reality for a bit. I was lucky enough to run into some of my more laid back friends, and we had a wonderful evening, just chatting over a couple of pints. Since it was a weeknight, we all headed home early, and made plans to meet up again tonight, and really tear it up, and as Becks said, "Just get fuckin' stupid." It seemed like a great idea at the time. Get together with some fun, intelligent people and have a rip roarin' good time.

So, here I am. Friday night, a half hour after our agreed upon meeting time. Showered and ready to go, if only I could muster the energy to put on some clean clothes, and get the courage to walk out the door and head downtown.

Tonight would be the perfect night for me to stay home and veg out in the living room. Roomies are out for the night, I've got a 2 litre of beer in the fridge, and popcorn in the cupboard. But the thought of being alone with my thoughts, scares the shit out of me. I have spent my week trying in vain to distract myself by talking on the phone for hours, or heading to The Pub, hoping that after a night of talking out my problems and having a couple pints will help me sleep at night. Of course, it doesn't work, and my time alone is spent over-analyzing, re-playing recent events and crying about them on my bed. Sad, pitiful, and mentally exhausting.

So, what's a girl to do? Spending time with the group from last night is mighty appealing to me, as I know that they will be patient with me if I get into self-pity mode, and most likely, they will be the best distractions of all, being the conversationalists that they are. However, then there are the others. The boisterous, Friday Night People, whom I haven't seen all week, and will want explanations, and will say they're sorry for my troubles, and basically just get me depressed or grouchy all over again. They mean well, I know they do, but can I handle it? If I'm going to go out tonight, I would rather not talk about myself all evening, I can sit at home and talk about myself, to myself, if I want to stay crazy in the head.

I have spent more nights at The Pub in this past week, than I have in the past month. It sickens me. I can't be alone, but I want to be alone. I don't want to try and drink my troubles away, because booze is a big factor in why I am in this sad sorry state in the first place, but if I am going to see my friends, that's what they are doing, that's where they are. It's sad, and comforting all at the same time. Drinking is a way of life for all of us, but at the same time, I have more friends than a girl could ask for, just waiting to show me a good time (or attempt to, anyway), and cheer me up.

Arrghh!!!

To be perfectly honest, what I really want to do, is lay on the couch and eat popcorn, and enjoy the quietness of the house, until he calls to tell me he is off work. We would go back to his place, watch TV, cuddle and laugh at the cats. Unfortunately, that just isn't going to happen. I need to get that through my head, but it's going to take some time.

Until then, Becks just called to say that she's waiting for me. So I guess I'm going, off to face the madness that is Friday Night. With any luck, I will sneak out early, and come home in a better mood, tired and ready to let myself sleep. I'm crossing my fingers.

Thank You, Mr. Grand

The first time that I met my friend Mr. Grand, I had just broken up with B-Rock a few hours prior. I was a horrible, snot-covered mess when he showed up with my roomate to hang out on our deck and meet us all. They invited me to come out and sit with them and have a beer. Mr. Grand and I launched into a long discussion about relationships and love and all the pain that comes with it. Although it was a nice distraction from the day's trouble's, the whole time we were talking, all I could think about was going up to my suite, bawling like a wee babe on my bed, and never coming out. He knew it, and called me on it. I told him that I was sorry, and apologized for my mind being somewhere else. Mr. Grand then told me he had some advice for me.

"Go up to your room, find all the songs that remind you of him, throw the CD's in the stereo. Lay on your bed, turn the music on, and play those songs over and over and over, until they don't mean anything to you anymore."

He told me that it could take a few days, maybe a few weeks, but I was to get up there, and get the crying over with, and get all the pain out.

I did what I was told, and in a few days, those songs didn't make me cry. I was still hurting, but I felt like I had released a good chunk of sadness and pity from my body and my soul, and getting through the day, did become easier. Those songs were suddenly just music to me, no longer great works of art that spoke for me, said what I wanted to say, what I could not put into words.

This past week, Mr. Grand's advice came back to me, as I was sitting on a friend's couch, crying my eyes out about my most recent botched relationship, while we drank beer and listened to music.

My friend asked if I wanted to make a break-up disc, and proceeded to let me go through the thousands of songs, until I found the perfect combination.

I went home, popped it in the stereo and let the tears flow. That mix of music has come with me everywhere this week. In the car, in my mp3 player, on the house stereo, those songs have not left my side. I have let out bursts of tears while stuck in rush hour traffic, at the gas station, in the kitchen, at work, and while sitting in the Dairy Queen drive-thru.

But, I'm feeling a bit better. My tears are not continuously flowing, and if I am not paying attention, these songs just play through as background music to my life.

So thank you for your advice, Mr. Grand, and if you ever come back to town, remind me that I still owe you some beer from all those years ago on the Embassy deck.