Saggy Bottoms and Toothless Grins

I've been noticing lately that all of my pants are now offering the saggy bottom effect. I'm sure it looks like I'm trying to fit in with the cool guys, y'know the ones, they all wear their asses around their knees. That is a little exaggerated, my jeans don't hang that low but it makes me giddy none-the-less 'cause it means I'm losing weight. I don't have a single scale in the house to verify it but my jeans had always fit snug and snugger after washing them. Now they pull on with ease plus room to spare.

Food was my #1 past time back home. I was always eating something whether it was out of boredom or just for comfort. Now I eat because I'm actually hungry. Now I can tell you exactly what I've had throughout the day when before I couldn't keep track. There's still a bag of Lays in the cupboard that Mom bought a couple weeks ago, untouched. Back home they would've been gone in a couple hours.

Not having any fast food chains around here has also helped. I can count on both hands the number of times I've had take-out in 6 months. I still drink pop, still eat chocolate but I get full so fast that everything lasts so much longer. I don't strive to finish something once it has been opened. I'm quite satisfied with a couple or a little bit which is another turn around for me and it feels amazing.

The cat came over last night. Bought me caramel baileys and vodka after those being mentioned in random conversation. Hmmm. I gave him the news. He laughed it off and gave me a huge toothless smile, his eyes disappeared behind the wrinkles (his defence mechanism?) and proceeded to go in for the kill. My poor poor neck! A friend did say the men are pushy here. I thought it was going to take a bit more work on my part to get the point across but he called earlier today to apologize for everything and make sure I wasn't mad at him.

Another feel great moment. Damn, I'm having a fantastic day!

The Sweetheart

The cat left this afternoon on another crab catching expedition. He expects to be gone a couple days longer than the last trip and while I'm happy to be free of him visually he will be calling.

The opportunity arose to give my overly rehearsed speech but I cowardly kept silent. I was never any good at public speaking. He walked over from the fish plant a few minutes before he planned to depart so we could say our ritualistic see ya's and take cares. I saw him coming and became a blubber mouth. Everything I had been repeating through out the day vanished from memory. I considered not answering the door.

In my defense it really didn't feel right to have a conversation of that caliber within a 5-10 minute time frame and then send him off for a few days in the middle of a watery abyss to replay certain moments and wonder where he went wrong. On the other hand he's gone away believing we have something going on. He'll probably tell his crew (what else are they going to talk about, they already know about me) and they'll say how happy they are for him only to have to take it back next venture.

After small talk about the weather and many tension filled silences I surrendered to the embrace but turned my cheek to avoid the kiss... my neck once again the receiver and he happily went on his merry way.

I've asked myself many times how exactly all this came about and why he hasn't picked up on the many hints I've tried to give such as the distance I've always kept between us. Huge red flag wouldn't you say? My thought is that he believes I'm shy, reserved, the good kind of girl that doesn't move too quick or move at all therefore he's taken it upon himself to determine our fate.

Yeah, I'm your typical sweetheart alright. Excellent choice in pet names, cat. You couldn't be further from the truth.

Realm of Awkwardly Awkward

The cat is obviously oblivious to the strong pulling away feeling that one would naturally encounter when the other is in a position she - in my case - does not want to be in.

After an unwillingly progressive night last night in our friendship - from the needed hand holding while boat hopping to the revealing gesture of the cheek caress, my cheek at that - tonight I have found myself to be in the situation I have been dreading. The one that requires the ever heart breaking friend-speech.

While I have been a recipient of the speech I have never been a giver. I have broke hearts but with the clear intent to break all ties. This time I honestly want to remain friends, good friends if at all possible and I've come to realize now being in their shoes that the givers before me honestly did too.

However, after the cat made his move which was a hug followed by a swift neck to lip kiss, these being the first intimate forms of physical contact we have shared, I'm not entirely sure we will ever be the same. It would explain why I am not currently friends with any of my predecessors.

The Cat Called...

before entering the harbour, before docking, before unloading, before even walking through his front door...

My prediction was wrong. The cat just called to inform me that he's on his way in.

Am I seriously going to be getting the play by plays from the friendly neighbourhood tabby?

Of course I care for his well-being but his actions are those of a significant other in a committed relationship, which is a state of affairs that I am fully unaware we are in.

Will he be terribly disappointed if I'm not outside madly waving to him like a lover eagerly awaiting his arrival? Will his heart drop if I don't run to him arms open wide?

What have I done to make him believe this is what I want? I need to know so I can reverse the charges.

The Wrong Kind of Cat

The rough and tumble Alley cat, the short haired Heinz 57, the sneaky Siamese. I've met a few cats in my day but none quite measured up.

The boys are busy at the fish plant across the street. Trucks of all sizes pulling in, pulling out, reversing, braking, parking. Bianca's Dream will be making her way through the harbour later this evening. Dodging the bergs to dock after 2 days away. He'll unload his catch, get paid, pay his crew and jump in his pick-up. Maybe he'll look my way, see if I'm watching from the window, see if I'm watching for him. He might consider phoning me then, maybe even stop by but ultimately decide to wait until after he's had a good home cooked meal and a shower, only then will he call to let me know he made it home safe.

He's a good cat, no doubt about it. The kind of cat that will sit in your lap for hours purring loudly, kneading gently but plays it safe (would never catch him climbing to the highest branch of a evergreen). He knows when to keep his distance (would never push too hard or pull too close - he may, however, squeeze a little too tight).

Unfortunately, he's the wrong kind of cat for me.

Disclosure Policy

This policy is valid from 26 May 2007.

This blog is a personal blog written and edited by me. This blog accepts forms of cash advertising, sponsorship, paid insertions or other forms of compensation. The compensation received may influence the advertising content, topics or posts made in this blog. That content, advertising space or post may not always be identified as paid or sponsored content. The owner(s) of this blog is compensated to provide opinion on products, services, websites and various other topics. Even though the owner(s) of this blog receives compensation for our posts or advertisements, we always give our honest opinions, findings, beliefs, or experiences on those topics or products. The views and opinions expressed on this blog are purely the bloggers' own. Any product claim, statistic, quote or other representation about a product or service should be verified with the manufacturer, provider or party in question. The owner(s) of this blog would like to disclose the following existing relationships. These are companies, organizations or individuals that may have a significant impact on the content of this blog. We are employed by or consult with advertiser.

To get your own policy, go to Disclosure Policy Generator.

Net Speak: Hip Amongst the Lazy and/or Stupid

Typing like a complete idiot actually takes effort for me. Maybe I'm just not in the loop or too old for the "cool" kids (never thought I would ever see myself saying that) but I truly do not understand the willingness of today's youngsters (and the not so young but wannabes) to torture and violate the written word.

Case in point: WeLcOmE To Ta DaRk SiDe oF mE. That took much longer than needed to type out. Now, I realize I'm only drawing attention to the said blog but it's absolutely, positively pathetic and honestly, it's one of the milder blogs of its kind. (It only takes 30 minutes to read a single entry whereas some take an hour or more to translate with dictionary in hand).

I do understand the need for short forms in chat or messenger simply to keep up with busy conversation but in forums or places such as Blogger there is no excuse. Personally, when I see a blog written with numbers for letters, alternating capitals, cud rather than could, etc I cringe and immediately stereotype them as lazy.

If a blogger can not take the time to properly type out a post then why should I as a reader take the time to decipher it?

$$$ - The Root of All Evil

It's been awhile since I've felt the tight grip of stress in my chest and stomach. Its fingers curled and ripping. Not a happy feeling but one I am accustomed to, or at least I was back home, especially when it came to financial situations.

I won't bore you with the details of how we came to be in this predicament as it is useless drivel - 6 months that we can not undo or change. I will tell you this; buying a home, accessories (fireplace, sofa, dining set, curtains, gallons upon gallons of paint) and trying to live while on a LOA from our jobs back home on the small amount we received from the sale of our house did not help our cause. Mom's already gone back 2 months earlier than we were expecting.

While I am still employed back home I desperately need to start working ASAP but will not find out for another couple weeks if I got the job I applied for. I have no intentions of returning to Ontario but I'm just not ready to give up that security and alas, become officially unemployed. Mom doesn't go back to work until June 5th and won't see a pay for 2 weeks after that. Bills do not stop, food does not keep and my bank account is not getting any bigger, my friends.

I am trying other avenues but the lack in traffic to this blog is really going to tarnish my chances at a PayPerPost career. Hopefully AGLOCO will pull through.

AGLOCO

I stumbled upon AGLOCO through random blog surfing and thought it was worth a shot.

Who couldn't use some extra cash just by doing what we do best? And it's FREE! There are no obligations (you can leave at any time) and no catches what-so-ever. Yeah, I probably wouldn't make it in the retail world but check it out, see what you think.

http://www.agloco.com/r/BBFB3163 is my referral link (I automatically get credit for referring you and helping to build AGLOCO) or click the image or any of the other AGLOCO links, same deal.

Help me help you and help yourself by helping me!

Win/Win situation? I believe so!

Give it a try, what have you got to lose besides the minute it takes to sign up?

Spewing Unmentionables

I have been suffering bouts of nausea the last couple days. Trying to determine the cause has proved difficult. Week old egg salad that looked and smelt edible? Town water that has been under a "boil advisory" since April 27th? Yes, I did have a glass or two in hopes that the letter stating the chlorine has reached a satisfactory level missed my mail box after almost a month. Coffee? My java fixes in the mornings always send my tummy gurgling and other things running. Too many cigarettes...? I really can not pin point the culprit but I feel like I could vomit at any given moment and how I cringe at the thought.

I don't suppose anyone really enjoys "throwing up" but I especially try to avoid it at all costs, even if I know I will feel better afterwards. I realize it's my body's way of getting rid of the unwanted but the sensation of things that are meant to stay down coming back up in my throat and mouth...well, it's understandable.

From past encounters with stomach acid and other unmentionables I will never ever try to out drink a man who is almost double my weight again. I now know my alcohol limit (no mixing!) and will never cross that line and humiliate myself in the attempt to prove I can not only hold my vodka coolers but shots of sour puss and black and white russians - because quite obviously I will fail. Subway was a waste of $10 that night! Nor will I ever eat sausages from a concession booth, especially if I am the one cooking them.

After 4 long rainy, dreary days the skies are finally clear and the sun is shining. I would love to take the boys for a walk but the nausea has me weak and I fear being too far from a toilet.

Oh the irony...

Snippets of Home

I originally thought painting was going to be an enjoyable process, something Mom and I would do together and while we did bond during this experience - in between the cursing and banging our heads off the walls of course - when you have a whole house to colour it quickly becomes monotonous and stressful.

From not only cleaning but scrubbing, to lots and lots of patch work, to priming and then the final coat (after 1 or 2 before it) it has been one hell of a metamorphosis. That's not including 34 cupboard doors (through out the house and after having 2 removed) plus 7 drawers that either needed new hinges or handles or both which often meant creating new holes. Oh, and the troubles with curtain rods! The hardware of today is just not meant for the houses of yesterday (this being a house that is approximately 100 years old).

Of all the rooms that had to be done which we started shortly after we moved in January 7th, all that's left as of today is the sun room, the upstairs hallway and finish Mom's room. Not too shabby at all. I am thankful that painting was really our only main concern. There is carpet we want to take up and have laminate put down, replace the ugly green toilet in the bathroom, do the mosaic tile on the kitchen counters, replace the kitchen floor but all in all we were lucky that we didn't have to totally gut the place.


Our lines are far from straight, there are flaws every where but I simply adore this house in all its faulted glory. Imperfect is my middle name after all.

Phantom Mom

It's been 4 days since Mom left and life on this side of Canada has continued as normal. Back in Ontario, however, it's a different story.

Mom is having a difficult time with our separation which is strange as I thought it would've been me phoning her every day just to hear her voice. I certainly felt the butterflies before Mom left. I really didn't know what to expect from solitude once she returned to Ontario but solitude has been surprisingly kind to me. I have experienced moments where around the corner I expected to find her, sitting on the sofa fiddling around on her computer as that spot she could most likely be found. Other than that it really hasn't been that big of an adjustment for me. I suppose reminding myself every day the last 6 months that soon enough I'll be on my own and I'll have only myself to rely on assisted in my adaptation.

Guilt hasn't plagued me either for not feeling any remorse for our parting ways. I do worry about her though. Apparently she can not step foot inside Wal Mart or a grocery store without tearing up as those spots we frequented together.

My Past vs My Present

I just spent an hour or so flipping through the pages of another online diary of mine that I conveniently abandoned almost two years ago (amazing it still exists). What is also amazing is seeing in written form the kind of person I was back then. I seriously pulled a 360.

I may have transformed for the better but there are some aspects of that life that I miss now. Feeling the fire in my fingertips. Maybe I'm just a little rusty but I was quite impressed with the colourful, albeit dark entries I created. Many of the great artists (Vincent van Gogh), poets (Sylvia Plath) and musicians (Wolfgang Mozart) of the past suffered from depression. While I do not miss the emotions that come with depression I do miss the creative spark.

I honestly do not know how to write "happy" entries. Everything I've known has been filled with anger and sadness - confusion and doubt. Writing was my outlet, my escape from those emotions. I no longer feel that way so a question arises... What now?

There has been many a night I have sat in front of this screen, wanting to feel alive again (as I did when I was writing) but I was blank. I am not without inspiration but happiness has been absent from my vocabulary and affections for so long I'm not sure what to do with it. Perhaps once I get to truly know happiness and experience all it has to offer maybe then the fire will return.

Until then I suppose I will experiment.

It's a Beautiful Sunset...

I'm overwhelmed by the emotions freedom has graced me with. Mom and I said our good-byes yesterday afternoon at the airport after 26 years of togetherness - the last 6 months were 24/7 - today marking the first day of the rest of my life.

Mine. All decisions and responsibilies now lie on my shoulders. Am I the least bit worried? Not at all. I've been wanting this for awhile now but I've realized I wasn't completely ready until now. Although they weren't written all that long ago, looking back on the few previous posts I'm extremely proud of how I've grown. These past few months have been nothing short of [insert positive word(s) of choice here].

This house is pure symbolism of our/my journey. For all the renovations and changes we made here I made just as many within myself. Good-byes are never easy and I will and do miss my Mom very much but this life-changing experience was the best decision we could've made.