Cancers are bad for your health

On more than one occasion, I have had the opportunity to have relationships with cancers. Whether they were friendships or romantic (or literal ones), they always result in the same outcome. Cancers are bad for your health.

Even though I should know this, I take things as they come, not knowing what will happen. Now, I can say I will know what will happen. Every. Single. Time.

Being the opposite astrological sign of mine (i.e. Capricorn), they embody the traits that I am not too favourable with: crazy, bi-polar, closed-off (crabs retreat into their shells), irrational, flighty, etc. Drama attaches itself to them like velcro. Basically, they're one of the most emotionally and psychologically unstable signs of astrology.

So if I don't want any drama in my life, I don't have to listen to Mary J. Blige. What I have to do is run far, far away from any cancers.

Size king

Because of what I do for a living, it’s imperative that I receive exactly what I request from suppliers. If it's background info, an image for a presentation, or a licence to kill, then I need exactly what I'm asking for.

So it comes as a rather shocking surprise that I get a package in the mail from a well-known underwear brand with three items that are not what I wanted. They sent the wrong size and the wrong designs.

What I have now are three pairs of briefs that so scandalous in design, they cannot be photographed for any publication. And what’s worse if they’re medium size and that’s too large (models are skinny).

What am I going to do? I contacted the company and asked if there is any way to remedy the situation since the items are pretty much unusable. There has been no reply (and I don’t think I will be receiving one).

I’m not a size king, but if you give me something that’s way too big for human consumption, then it's just wasteful (not to mention useless).

The size of it all

People are typically concerned with the size of their body. They’re not worried about the shape, because if it was, we’d search the racks for forms, not numbers. It seems like there isn’t one person who is happy with their overall appearance.

A friend of mine always asks me if I would consider her to be thin, average, a few extra pounds, or overweight. According to her criteria (or to be more precise, the criteria of her dating site), she’s average. After whittling down to a size 4, she's even more neurotic about her weight. She's tiny but she doesn't see herself that way.

And it’s not just women who go through this.

Men also have to put down what they think best describes their body type, as well. Many become just as self-conscious. I always describe myself as fit, but there are people who have classified me as anorexic (which I’m not; I'm just small). Does that mean I also have body image issues? I don't think so, since I don't spend time worrying about my size.

Whatever. As long as you can fit in it, who cares what size you are? That should be the end goal.

Noise travels fast

There’s this odd buzzing I hear indoors. It sounds like it’s coming from the unit beside or above mine. I’m not too sure. What I am sure is that it gets irritating after listening to it for eight hours a day.

When I take a walk outside and around the building, I want to see what my neighbours are doing. Is it a little light construction? Is it a total tear down? The people beside me have nothing going on, or the ones who live above my unit. By the time I get to the other side of the complex, I see a window open with a saw out on the balcony. It must be the unit since there aren’t any others around.

What strikes me as strange is this unit is two floors up and at the other end of the complex. There must be more than eight units between us. It feels like it’s next door. The walls aren’t paper-thin; they’re made of concrete. That’s the reason why you hear sound from one side of the building to the other: concrete is (apparently) a great sound conductor/amplifier.

Let’s hope sound doesn’t travel as quickly when my neighbours are getting it on.

Another long weekend?

There are three of us in the Audi being driven to our respective homes after our event preview. D and I are sitting in the back, while A sits in the front seat with the driver. After we announce our drop-offs, D leans forward to say something to A.

"So, what are you doing for the long weekend?" asks D.

"Oh, I don't know..." replies A.

"Wait, it's a long weekend?" I ask.

"Yeah, we have Monday off." D looks at me.

"Which holiday is this?" I scrunch my forehead. "I've been so clued out this week, I didn't even realize we had one."

"It's Victoria Day," says A in the front.

"Already? Wow. Time flies, I guess." I look out the window to the speeding traffic outside the glass.

Upon my return home, I log onto Skype and see R is online. We chat for a few minutes and I ask him what he's doing for the long weekend. There isn't one in the United States, which is odd since we share most holidays and my work schedule is aligned with my friends south of the border.

"You Canadians always have holidays for everything."

"No. We don't celebrate President's Day..." This is true, but we have Victoria Day, instead. A day to celebrate a monarch who doesn't have much (or any, by now) control over the commonwealth.

Either way, a holiday is always welcome even if I don't technically don't take it off. But, I can't wait for the Labour Day weekend. Maybe I'll celebrate that one when it comes around in about a month.