Friday, February 26, 2010
After the work deadlines I've had to deal with in the past two weeks, I am exhausted to the point where I am not able to think. Everyone needs a mental holiday when they are brain dead tired. This is the start of mine.
Wednesday, February 24, 2010
Not-so-happy birthday texts
It’s J's birthday and she’s off at the cottage of Crazy’s parents with a bunch of friends. I wish the circumstances were different so I would’ve been able to go. Alas, they’re not.
Because I can’t be there to wish her a happy birthday, I send a text message. It’s not the same as being there, but it’s pretty close.
“Happy birthday! Hope you and B get to sing to each other while high on E! :)”
The E reference comes from the time I went to the same cottage with a group of people. She and B were high on drugs and singing to each other while B played the guitar. I was the only other person around, watching them with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. It was highly entertaining.
I know she receives it and shows it to everyone in the cottage. No matter how much you try to pretend I don’t exist, I’ll always be in the periphery.
A few hours later, I send a text to B, who has been on the receiving end of her affections for too long. What B doesn’t seem to realize is any bit of attention he gives her is fodder for her to want him more. Since he’s young (like everyone else in the clique), he has little, or no, concepts of relationships.
By this point I already drank a couple of glasses of wine and am little buzzed. The tone isn’t as bitchy as it is biting.
“Hope you get to do coke with J on The Sisterhood of Traveling Pants! LOL.” This text needs no explanation.
Again, I know the reaction will be the same: Everyone in the cottage will read it, but only three people know what I’m referring to. That’s the thing with text messaging; people just can’t keep their fingers off their phones.
There aren’t any replies, but I don’t expect any. Happy birthday, anyway!
Because I can’t be there to wish her a happy birthday, I send a text message. It’s not the same as being there, but it’s pretty close.
“Happy birthday! Hope you and B get to sing to each other while high on E! :)”
The E reference comes from the time I went to the same cottage with a group of people. She and B were high on drugs and singing to each other while B played the guitar. I was the only other person around, watching them with a smirk and a raised eyebrow. It was highly entertaining.
I know she receives it and shows it to everyone in the cottage. No matter how much you try to pretend I don’t exist, I’ll always be in the periphery.
A few hours later, I send a text to B, who has been on the receiving end of her affections for too long. What B doesn’t seem to realize is any bit of attention he gives her is fodder for her to want him more. Since he’s young (like everyone else in the clique), he has little, or no, concepts of relationships.
By this point I already drank a couple of glasses of wine and am little buzzed. The tone isn’t as bitchy as it is biting.
“Hope you get to do coke with J on The Sisterhood of Traveling Pants! LOL.” This text needs no explanation.
Again, I know the reaction will be the same: Everyone in the cottage will read it, but only three people know what I’m referring to. That’s the thing with text messaging; people just can’t keep their fingers off their phones.
There aren’t any replies, but I don’t expect any. Happy birthday, anyway!
Monday, February 22, 2010
They always come back
As I’m sitting in front of my laptop, working away, I turn on my msn on to see if I get any new emails. In a few seconds, I get an instant message from S, an ex. I haven’t heard a peep from S in a long time.
The conversation doesn’t feel laboured, although at times I wonder why S even bothered to communicate with me. You have a boyfriend, talk to him; that’s why he’s there. I don’t do surrogacy relationships.
A couple of days after, I get a random text from S. It’s odd because it’s in the middle of a Sunday.
Hey. What are you up to today?
My reply is that I’m out on a date and I couldn’t reply sooner because it would be rude. S’s response is that the rain is putting a damper on the day.
Go tell that to your boyfriend, I think. That’s not my problem.
Not long after, I’m chatting with my friend C about his day and he asks me about what went on in my week. I tell him and he’s not surprised.
“They always come back,” says C.
“Yeah, but why? And do I want them to come back? Is this some sort of sign? And should I pay attention to it?”
The main reason why they come back is because they want something from me (attention, affirmation, a reminder that I was the best thing in their lives before they threw it away in a fit of idiocy and irrational thought). I don't think it's random. There's a purpose behind their actions.
So what do I do? I’m not sure. All I know is my msn keeps on popping up with S writing me, asking me how I’m doing.
The conversation doesn’t feel laboured, although at times I wonder why S even bothered to communicate with me. You have a boyfriend, talk to him; that’s why he’s there. I don’t do surrogacy relationships.
A couple of days after, I get a random text from S. It’s odd because it’s in the middle of a Sunday.
Hey. What are you up to today?
My reply is that I’m out on a date and I couldn’t reply sooner because it would be rude. S’s response is that the rain is putting a damper on the day.
Go tell that to your boyfriend, I think. That’s not my problem.
Not long after, I’m chatting with my friend C about his day and he asks me about what went on in my week. I tell him and he’s not surprised.
“They always come back,” says C.
“Yeah, but why? And do I want them to come back? Is this some sort of sign? And should I pay attention to it?”
The main reason why they come back is because they want something from me (attention, affirmation, a reminder that I was the best thing in their lives before they threw it away in a fit of idiocy and irrational thought). I don't think it's random. There's a purpose behind their actions.
So what do I do? I’m not sure. All I know is my msn keeps on popping up with S writing me, asking me how I’m doing.
Thursday, February 18, 2010
Alcohol is good for you
Not too long ago, an article was written on a study that claims that champagne is healthy and contains the same kinds of benefits as red wine.
So, now I am just justfied - more so - for having a glass of something in the middle of the day because I'm thinking of my health, of course.
So, now I am just justfied - more so - for having a glass of something in the middle of the day because I'm thinking of my health, of course.
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
I'm not defensive, damnit!
At one of my past jobs, there was a to-do list of items that needed to be done at the end of every weekly meeting. One of them included purchasing a magazine that mentioned one of our clients.
Due to the fact that I worked from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., I never made it to the store in time since they close at 6 p.m. God forbid if I left the office in the middle of the day to go magazine shopping. That would be a no-no. So, this item wasn’t taken care of immediately.
When it came to the middle of the month, I stepped out for one lunch break and searched every store and newsstand I could find that sold the magazine. It was sold out. Apparently, it was a popular issue. I did end up finding one that was on display and asked the shopkeeper to remove it because I had to have it.
Back at the office, I tagged the magazine and placed it on the desk of the VP. Within a few minutes, she was passing by my desk and waving the magazine in the air.
“Steven, did you just buy this today?” she asked.
“Yes, I went down to several stores to track it down. It’s sold out.”
“Steven, don’t be defensive.”
“I’m not being defensive.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” I tried very hard not to give her the evil eye.
“You’re being defensive by being defensive.”
Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought. Is this some sort of power game? A mind game? Please, woman...
“No, I’m just answering your question. That’s not being defensive.” I raised my eyebrow and twitch my lip, as if I was saying I don’t know what you mean by that.
And, with that, she sensed I was pissed at her (with good reason). She walked away, didn't thank me for running out and spending almost an hour looking for a magazine and left me to finish off the rest of my duties.
I left work that day at 7 p.m. Again.
Due to the fact that I worked from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m., I never made it to the store in time since they close at 6 p.m. God forbid if I left the office in the middle of the day to go magazine shopping. That would be a no-no. So, this item wasn’t taken care of immediately.
When it came to the middle of the month, I stepped out for one lunch break and searched every store and newsstand I could find that sold the magazine. It was sold out. Apparently, it was a popular issue. I did end up finding one that was on display and asked the shopkeeper to remove it because I had to have it.
Back at the office, I tagged the magazine and placed it on the desk of the VP. Within a few minutes, she was passing by my desk and waving the magazine in the air.
“Steven, did you just buy this today?” she asked.
“Yes, I went down to several stores to track it down. It’s sold out.”
“Steven, don’t be defensive.”
“I’m not being defensive.”
“Yes, you are.”
“No, I’m not.” I tried very hard not to give her the evil eye.
“You’re being defensive by being defensive.”
Just what the hell is that supposed to mean? I thought. Is this some sort of power game? A mind game? Please, woman...
“No, I’m just answering your question. That’s not being defensive.” I raised my eyebrow and twitch my lip, as if I was saying I don’t know what you mean by that.
And, with that, she sensed I was pissed at her (with good reason). She walked away, didn't thank me for running out and spending almost an hour looking for a magazine and left me to finish off the rest of my duties.
I left work that day at 7 p.m. Again.
Friday, February 12, 2010
Valentine’s Day is around the corner
Valentine’s Day is around the corner and I couldn’t help but not want to turn that corner because I know what’s there. Because I’m single on this February 14, there will be nothing waiting for me. Tradition, I guess.
Last year was mostly a romantic day. It was spent in New York. The weather was sunny. Lunch was eaten at Pastis. Shopping was done in the Village. And, a massive fight was started in SoHo because of an incredibly selfish act (done by someone who wasn’t me). The rest of the day was a wash because of the argument between someone who would do anything for the happiness of another, and someone who wouldn’t acknowledge everything the other one did for them.
I don’t want that this year, but I also don’t want to be alone.
Yes, Valentine’s Day is a day like any other but the whole point of it is to enjoy it with someone you love. I have a hard time finding someone to spend my days with someone I like, but that’s another story.
There won’t be any cards, flowers, chocolates, or romantic dinners/walks/etc. for me this year, but it’s not like I’ve had that in years past. I’ll partake in the day like everyone else who is single. It’s not like I haven’t done it for over 20 years. Maybe that can be my tradition on the 14th of February.
Last year was mostly a romantic day. It was spent in New York. The weather was sunny. Lunch was eaten at Pastis. Shopping was done in the Village. And, a massive fight was started in SoHo because of an incredibly selfish act (done by someone who wasn’t me). The rest of the day was a wash because of the argument between someone who would do anything for the happiness of another, and someone who wouldn’t acknowledge everything the other one did for them.
I don’t want that this year, but I also don’t want to be alone.
Yes, Valentine’s Day is a day like any other but the whole point of it is to enjoy it with someone you love. I have a hard time finding someone to spend my days with someone I like, but that’s another story.
There won’t be any cards, flowers, chocolates, or romantic dinners/walks/etc. for me this year, but it’s not like I’ve had that in years past. I’ll partake in the day like everyone else who is single. It’s not like I haven’t done it for over 20 years. Maybe that can be my tradition on the 14th of February.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Six years old
Today marks six years that this site has been around.
Six years. Six whole years. Six whole fucking years.
Six years. Six whole years. Six whole fucking years.
It's the longest relationship I've had - the one with myself.
Why can't this be the same for other things in my life?
Happy anniversary to being me, I guess.
Monday, February 08, 2010
Relationship status
When going out with someone, there’s a point where you begin to wonder what is the status of your relationship. Are you hanging out? Are you dating? And if you are dating, are you exclusive or free to see other people while still trying to make up your mind whether, or not, you actually like this person?
I’ve been in that position before and it’s never a place I feel comfortable being in. Not only are you constantly questioning what you’re doing with this person, but you also have to bring up the whole “What are we?” conversation which inevitably ends up in me being more confused than I thought I would be.
To me, the point where this talk must happen is around the two-month point. You would’ve gone out enough times to know if you like this person. And if you still wonder if you like them, then you probably shouldn’t be having the conversation in the first place. Save it for a time when you need to be sure about taking “the next step” (forward or backward) in the relationship.
No matter what happens, it’s not as if I’m going to change my relationship status on Facebook after I get an answer.
I’ve been in that position before and it’s never a place I feel comfortable being in. Not only are you constantly questioning what you’re doing with this person, but you also have to bring up the whole “What are we?” conversation which inevitably ends up in me being more confused than I thought I would be.
To me, the point where this talk must happen is around the two-month point. You would’ve gone out enough times to know if you like this person. And if you still wonder if you like them, then you probably shouldn’t be having the conversation in the first place. Save it for a time when you need to be sure about taking “the next step” (forward or backward) in the relationship.
No matter what happens, it’s not as if I’m going to change my relationship status on Facebook after I get an answer.
Friday, February 05, 2010
Good things happen to bad people
Last week my friend, A, mentioned that someone we both know just got a job. I told A this person should be congratulated for finally getting a job after almost two years of unemployment.
The only reason why the news was interesting was because this person has no real work experience, and basically got this job for a company I have been trying to get an “in” for several years just by knowing a couple of people and by being fake and smiley when needed.
On top of that, this person is a douche and has treated me (and plenty of others) like shit while moving along in life, selfishly caring about themselves and no one else.
So why do good things happen to bad people? Because they do. Some people are just born with horseshoes rammed up their assholes.
But, I have to ask when will my break come? I know I’m not the only one in this situation, but I doubt there are many who have been treated badly by a borderline sociopath who keeps on skimming through life, without a care in the world.
I know that challenges are presented in order to be dealt with. Those who succeed become stronger; those who fail, do not.
Who am I being strong for, and why? I have to be strong for myself because there’s no one around, but it also feels like I have to be there for everyone else. It shouldn’t be that way because they need to depend on themselves - there isn’t going to be someone there every time to pick them up when they fall. But, that’s what good people do; they help others without asking.
Should I just be bad and see what happens? Probably not, because I also believe in karma. And, that’s the only thing that makes me sleep at night because I know those horseshoes are going to fall out of a gaping asshole eventually.
The only reason why the news was interesting was because this person has no real work experience, and basically got this job for a company I have been trying to get an “in” for several years just by knowing a couple of people and by being fake and smiley when needed.
On top of that, this person is a douche and has treated me (and plenty of others) like shit while moving along in life, selfishly caring about themselves and no one else.
So why do good things happen to bad people? Because they do. Some people are just born with horseshoes rammed up their assholes.
But, I have to ask when will my break come? I know I’m not the only one in this situation, but I doubt there are many who have been treated badly by a borderline sociopath who keeps on skimming through life, without a care in the world.
I know that challenges are presented in order to be dealt with. Those who succeed become stronger; those who fail, do not.
Who am I being strong for, and why? I have to be strong for myself because there’s no one around, but it also feels like I have to be there for everyone else. It shouldn’t be that way because they need to depend on themselves - there isn’t going to be someone there every time to pick them up when they fall. But, that’s what good people do; they help others without asking.
Should I just be bad and see what happens? Probably not, because I also believe in karma. And, that’s the only thing that makes me sleep at night because I know those horseshoes are going to fall out of a gaping asshole eventually.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
Break-ups are good for my waistline
As I’m walking down Queen Street one day, I pass by JT, one of the people I went out with two years ago. He’s appearing fuller than when I last saw him. There’s a bit of a gut and maybe some double-chin action going on.
But, this isn’t an uncommon movement.
Crazy got chubby (although he never was skinny to begin with) and S packed on 6 pounds of “muscle” (not my choice of words), recently. Apparently, people pack on the pounds after breaking up with me.
Yet, after break-ups, I manage to lose weight. It’s not intentional. The reason why this happens is because I don’t go out to dinner as often and I have more time to go for runs/walks.
I lost almost 20 pounds after the messiness with a certain someone. I weigh even less than when I did when I was in Grade 8. To get a sense of perspective, my measurements are comparable to a woman’s sample size (even though I don’t wear women’s clothes).
Maybe break-ups are good for your waistline. At least, they’re good for mine.
But, this isn’t an uncommon movement.
Crazy got chubby (although he never was skinny to begin with) and S packed on 6 pounds of “muscle” (not my choice of words), recently. Apparently, people pack on the pounds after breaking up with me.
Yet, after break-ups, I manage to lose weight. It’s not intentional. The reason why this happens is because I don’t go out to dinner as often and I have more time to go for runs/walks.
I lost almost 20 pounds after the messiness with a certain someone. I weigh even less than when I did when I was in Grade 8. To get a sense of perspective, my measurements are comparable to a woman’s sample size (even though I don’t wear women’s clothes).
Maybe break-ups are good for your waistline. At least, they’re good for mine.
Monday, February 01, 2010
Getting dissed by the disabled
Being single, I have to put myself out there in order to see what’s available on the proverbial dating menu. Sometimes there isn’t much to pick from and other times you end up having something to eat even if you don’t like the taste of it.
Recently, I ended up “talking” with someone who seemed to be normal. Of course, just thinking they’re normal is a sign they’re not normal, at all.
After a few messages, I get a bombshell of sorts: D is deaf. I don’t have an issue with this, but I do have an issue if D can’t talk. I tell D I don’t know sign language, so someone better know how to read lips and mumble a few words.
I know plenty of people who are horrible communicators who never shut the fuck up. Maybe this is a sign: Those who speak less are able to say a lot more.
I set up a date, but D cancels. I set up another date, and D cancels once more. Finally, after two weeks of nothing, I get a text from D at 7-something in the morning.
“Since I haven’t heard from you, I take it you’re not interested. Have a good life!”
Really? That’s the response I get after being ignored for two fucking weeks?
I blast off a couple of messages, saying I made dates which D cancelled, then said D is the sort of person that judges, is mindless, shallow and ignorant (this was said by D in one of our back-and-forth emails). How can you be interested one day and not interested the next, from Friday to Saturday?
“It’s bc ur very busy. What’s point 4 us 2 meet? I’m lkg 4 more than one-time mtg. I’m sure u understand” is the response I get.
My reply is short and to the point.
“I need to meet people at least once before knowing if I want to see them again.” And just to rub it in, I end it with, “I’m sure u understand.”
Getting dissed by the disabled. That’s a new low for me.
Recently, I ended up “talking” with someone who seemed to be normal. Of course, just thinking they’re normal is a sign they’re not normal, at all.
After a few messages, I get a bombshell of sorts: D is deaf. I don’t have an issue with this, but I do have an issue if D can’t talk. I tell D I don’t know sign language, so someone better know how to read lips and mumble a few words.
I know plenty of people who are horrible communicators who never shut the fuck up. Maybe this is a sign: Those who speak less are able to say a lot more.
I set up a date, but D cancels. I set up another date, and D cancels once more. Finally, after two weeks of nothing, I get a text from D at 7-something in the morning.
“Since I haven’t heard from you, I take it you’re not interested. Have a good life!”
Really? That’s the response I get after being ignored for two fucking weeks?
I blast off a couple of messages, saying I made dates which D cancelled, then said D is the sort of person that judges, is mindless, shallow and ignorant (this was said by D in one of our back-and-forth emails). How can you be interested one day and not interested the next, from Friday to Saturday?
“It’s bc ur very busy. What’s point 4 us 2 meet? I’m lkg 4 more than one-time mtg. I’m sure u understand” is the response I get.
My reply is short and to the point.
“I need to meet people at least once before knowing if I want to see them again.” And just to rub it in, I end it with, “I’m sure u understand.”
Getting dissed by the disabled. That’s a new low for me.