hangovers

This morning I dragged my ass to spinning and attempted to sweat out my hangover. A technique i've never tried before, not because I wasn't curious as to whether it might be the miracle cure, rather, the 'lie in bed and/or on the couch and eat copious amounts of sodium rich fast food' has typically always held greater appeal.

well i tried it, managing to hold the hangover at bay for the duration of the class....but no sooner had I stepped off the bike, it returned.

so now, experiment over, I'm returning to bed with my Starbucks and the trial size bag of Kernals popcorn i got last night at the charity event (which has been less then charitable to be this morning) to get rid of this beast the good old fashioned way.

"best friends"

I don’t have a best friend.

I have a lot of good friends and who I know and know me very well…but there is not that 'one' person, who is my soul sister - the one I turn to for everything, who knows me better then anyone else, the one I share all with. My best friend I realize, ends up being the guy I'm with yet rather unfortunately, I have yet to find the one I'm destined to love, share, grow and learn from for the rest of my life. So inevitably when the relationship dissolves, so too does all the work I've done and all that I've invested.

It's not like I turn away or lose touch with my other close friends…I don't think I'm that type. It just seems my friendships and circles have evolved as I have through the different stages of my life…but I worry that my inability to develop a connection stronger then any other, with that one other person (who is not also my lover), means something bad…that there exists, some deep seated issue I've yet to discover or tackle.

hmm.

the "holiday" for tramps, sluts and hoes.

I know i'm not the first to comment on this phenomena...but what is it about Halloween that makes women want to dress as sexy, naughty and as vixen-esh as they possibly can? Why if it is our deepest desire to crank up the little red riding hood, nurse and schoolgirl act a few notches, don't we unleash the tart that lives in so many of us all year round?

Even as a child i never wanted to be a witch or something utterly ghoulish...it had to be the ballerina, the fairy princess, the genie..anything that made me cuter or prettier. Dad did win out for a few years when it was too cold to go the tutu route (god forbid i ruin the look with a pair of snow pants under it) and I paraded about town as dice, a rubix cube, a computer....the man had a thing with boxes.

This year, it's "little miss smartie pants" (a clever little costume consisting of a pair of pants covered in smarties and smartie boxes...and as cute and innocent as that sounds..i'm sure as hell gonna find a way to tart it up

- tricks and treats all around boys;)

my calling in life...

some people know what they are supposed to be...or at least, want to be when they grow up.

to love what you do and know why you do is something that has, thus far, evaded me.

i put up with what i do...because i've yet to find the thing that inspires me...i think i know but have some work to do to get there...and knowing me, i'll change my mind when i do.

but i'm okay with that. i'm definitely goal oriented..my goals just seem to keep changing and i'd rather experience a bit of everything and never find 'my calling' then put up with doing a lot of something and always wonder what if.

"boy" friends

it has dawned on me as of late, that men find it difficult, or rather, are oblivious to the fact that actually, some women just 'want to be friends' and are not looking for anything more then that from them. Shocking to the ego perhaps, but true nonetheless.

A friend of a friend, N, is going through a divorce. N, who is quite nice, is not my type. definitely not my type and truth be told, i very much wonder if women in general are his type if you get my meaning.

What is factual is, N lives in my neighbourhood, is having a bit of a rough time and I did happen to make a big pot of homemade butternut squash soup last sunday. It all amounted to what i thought was a nice gesture on my part, to give him a call and see if he wanted to come over for dinner and veg out in front of the tv. An honest, friendly gesture from one single, understanding and still slightly broken friend to another. He was busy but took a raincheck. Fair enough.

Here is the unfair part.

I was out last night to help celebrate yet another 30th birthday and N was there. while N was off wandering the bar, my friend A began to quiz me about the invite and what it meant. I was clearly dumbfounded, shocked and didn't hesitate to clear up the confusion immediately. That clarification has yet to be made with N directly unfortunately.

After giving N and his friend a ride home later that night I proceeded to recieve a 1:20 am SMS and what I only imagine was a "drink & text" message reading: "next time invite yourself over. I have plenty of wine here."

this whole episode has cleared up a few other situations with some other male friends that I never understood fully as to why they were so weird. It's all becoming painfully clear. They think i want more. And I do, but not the way they think.

The fact is, I have great female friends but I'm the kinda girl who really likes to have guy friends too. I like hanging out with boys - it gives you a that little bit of attention from the opposite sex to keep the ego boosted, but can be much less complicated then hanging out with the girls. Too much estrogen sometimes is stressful.

Of course, given the current situation I'm in, sometimes way too much testosterone can be too.

the kermit in all of us

Last night at my weekly Monday night dinner and gossip fest with the girls (I should also note, last night also turned into a bit of a wine fest - this morning wasn't fun) J, who is separating from her partner of 10 years told this amazing fact about frogs. it was one of those hit you over the head moments.

If you drop a frog in a pot of boiling water, it will immediately try to get out. Duh.
But ---if you place it in a pot of lukewarm/cool water and turn the heat on low, it will float there quite happily. As the water gradually heats up, the frog will continue to be lulled into a tranquil stupor and before long, with a smile on its face, it will unresistingly allow itself to be boiled to death.

Hmm. It made me think about how many people out there don't know the temperature in their own pot nor notice how it changes, merely adapting and accomodating - and end up suffering the same kind of fate.

lakeshore II

This one too.

Lakeshore

This was taken a few weeks ago one evening on lakeshore in the west end of Toronto. I had just bought a new polarizer for my lens and wanted to play around with it....

blast from the not so distant past

a dear friend from years ago just emailed to share some pics of his darling new daughter - a friend who i have such a great history with and who's email couldn't have been better timed.

in a period where I find myself striving to remain present and figure out what is important to me at this stage in my life, his note made me realize that while the past may be the past, and many of the roads i've travelled with people have broken off into different directions - in a blink of an eye or a drop in the inbox, it can all lead back to now.

thanks B.

flower power II

this one too.

flower power

thought i'd mix it up a bit and start adding some shots....click on the pic to enlarge it. this was taken in high park on a friday afternoon this summer. or actually, maybe on lakeshore on queen's quay. somewhere in t.o at any rate;)

why buy a mattress anywhere else?

To bring you up to speed...last week I bought a new mattress at good old Sleep Country's mix & match sale.

I hated it from the moment I laid down on it when it arrived and I can't understand what i was thinking when i first picked it. But at any rate I went back tonight to exchange it.

Spent about 1/2 hour trying out a few alternatives and as i was doing so...a very cute man walked in - also in search of a replacement mattress for the one he bought recently and also decided he didn't like.

My screamingly homosexual sales associate proceeded to jockey between the two of us as we tested out our mattresses...some of which turned out to be the same (though unfortunately never at the same time). Cute guy and i had a few joking exchanges and my screamingly observant sales associate picked up on my interest. While I was paying the difference for the exchange he asked if I wanted cute guy's phone #. I said no, but that he was free to give him mine.

If only for the funny story do I hope he calls. That, and he was really really cute. Though if he ended up choosing a different mattress it probably is doomed anyway.

driving home

After spending a great weekend up a friend's cottage (tanning on the dock in October..what beats that?), I had the most amazing drive home, captivated by the way the late afternoon/early evening sun managed to drench all that it touched in a wonderful golden and silky light. pure magic.