My parents discovered the fountain of youth

As I lean forward and look into the mirror, I see every little pore and line on my face. There aren’t many wrinkles, but they’re there. The texture could be a little better, but overall my skin has improved throughout the years.

When having coffee with my parents, I begin to look at their skin. Except for a little sagginess, my mother doesn’t have any wrinkles. My father – a person who abhors sunscreen – only has a couple of lines on his forehead and around his eyes (i.e. laugh lines).

They’re almost 40 years older than me and their skin looks just as good as mine.

I want to know their secrets, but I know they don’t have any. My father only shaves a couple of times a week and washes his face with water (no cleanser or even soap). Even though my mother has sensitive skin, she only uses a moisturizer and night cream when she remembers. She also stays away from makeup.

Because of that, I know I could follow their regimes, but I know it wouldn’t result in the same outcome. Their skin is different than mine, but the environmental effects (and a hell of a lot of stress) will make my skin age at a rapid pace.

I hope I can count on genetics in case all the creams and cosmetic surgery in the world doesn’t work. My parents discovered the fountain of youth and I want to take a dip in it.

Keep loved ones nearby

There are times in life that allows one for reflection. Looking back on the days that we've already lived through, whether good or bad. Sadly, one of those times occurs when people confront the realities of death.

Last week, a friend's mother died, and I discovered a friend of mine also passed away. The first was due to a long-time illness, the other wasn't (the circumstances were truly horrific). Both were saddening in differing ways.

There wasn't anything I could do in either case. I felt rather helpless. The only thing I could do was to send my condolences. My thoughts were with both families. Reminiscing was the way to keep their spirits alive.

Even though my family has attended their share of funeral services in the past, I'm fortunate that all of my closest family members and friends are still alive. But, to quote my mother, you never know the day of tomorrow. Keep loved ones nearby, for one day they won't be.

When I met up with D, he noticed I was in a sombre mood. I tell him what happened and he consoles me with a few words.

"They're in a better place, now."

I hope so, too.

Why don't you comment when I'm happy?

It's always interesting when I get comments of the negative kind. People purposely click on the link at the bottom of the post and make an effort to write unpleasant things about when I'm feeling down. A very pleasant experience for them and me.

Although I use this form of digital media to - in a way - physicalize my thoughts into something that can be seen in front of me, I do it for me, not others. But, even though my writing is a selfish act, I wish I could know what it would take to appease those who despise me so much.

It would be nice to have someone leave their personal email to allow for follow-ups. Let me know what I really did to hurt you even though you have no idea who I am.

In a way, I wish they wouldn't say these things anonymously. Put a face to a comment. Of course, that will never happen. If they do see me out in public, I'd love it if they'd introduce themselves. I'm pretty sure we'd have a lot to talk about.

Apparently, I'm a fraud

After a late night run, I enter my kitchen and pick up my cell phone on the way to the bathroom for a quick shower. I punch the keypad and it shows I have a text. From Crazy. At almost 2 a.m. Haven't heard from that ball of insanity in over a year. As I click on the 'yes' button, I don't know what to expect...

Glad people are discovering what a fraud you are :)

Creepy.

I know this message took some effort since it was gramatically correct and there was a smiley face at the end. Also, I know Crazy didn't have my number since the switch from a Razr to a Blackberry. Since my number is private, Crazy would've had to ask around for my info. Again, proving the fact this wasn't a random message, but one deeply rooted with intent.

And I won't go into the meaning of the text since Crazy didn't wait in line when brains were being passed out, and instead was too busy eating pizza. But, apparently, I'm a fraud. Amusing. This is coming from one of the biggest phonies and wannabes I have ever (closely) known.

Big dick, no balls

It's fascinating to know those who claim to have big dicks can also have no balls.

Do opposites attract?

Opposites attract is a term that has existed for as long as I can remember. Apparently it was conjured up as a reason to explain why some people are attracted to others they normally wouldn't be attracted to.

In reality, it has been studied (time and time again) that the opposite is true: likes attract. And, if that's the case, then Lord Jesus Christ help me.

Judging by the people I've had relationships with (both romantic, and not), I have a thing for crazies, psychos, sociopaths, wackos, etc. I don't hunt them down at the asylum, but from an outsider's perspective, it appears that I might (and I don't have a rubber room fetish).

The thing is, I've been told on several occasions that I'm the sane one, the rock that people can depend on, the voice of reason. The reasons why crazies are attracted to me is because I know what I'm doing in life; I'm the "normal" one and they hope that will ground them.

In the end, I think they're the crazy ones who are attracted to me because I'm the opposite of them. So, maybe opposites do attract. But, I'd stay away from the asylum - let the crazies have their fun with one another.

Canada Day ain't no holiday

July 1st is a Canadian holiday but not for me. While many will be off (doing whatever people do on holidays) I will be working. A positive part of having your own firm is you can take time off whenever you want, but the pratfall is you have to work the rest of the time (which is always).

As much as I want to take a vacation, I can't. Holidays are a means of escape, but not for everyone. Bosses might point the fingers, but they're also culpable if those fingers don't do the work. It's not always win-win for us.

Lord knows there are people, places and things I want to get away from and I don't want to deal with. I know the world is made - and filled with people of full - of shit, but I'd rather live my life in a technicolour version of a Vincente Minelli musical, not a Roman Polanski psychodrama.

Can't wait for Labour Day... that is, if I have it off.