Drama Down Unda

If there's one thing I've learned over the last 2 weeks, is to listen to my instincts.

From the minute I found out I was going to Australia, every cell in my body had been screaming NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Which is totally counter intuitive. I mean, I'd been handed the chance of a lifetime to visit a place I would have never imagined seeing. I should have been doing cartwheels and back flips. But instead, I was panicking and desperately trying to find a way out of it. I chalked it up to being afraid of flying. Ha, if only it were as easy as a plane crash.

My 6th sense was going completely bananas. Somehow I just knew that going on this trip would result in a life altering change.

Let's review the wreckage, shall we?

* The friend who invited me here is no longer my friend. We got into a huge fight which ended up with her going north and me (unwillingly) staying in the south for the rest of the trip. She hates my guts. And frankly right now, the sentiment is duly reciprocated.

* My boss fired my receptionist, but didn't tell me. I had to find out from her sister, who happens to be looking after my cat. I expect to catch holy hell when I get back to the office on Monday as I was the one who made the decision to hire her.

* Another friend wrote me an email to tell me to stuff my opinions about her relationship where the sun don't shine. I wrote back and apologized but got an out-of-office notice so who knows if or when she'll see it.

* I have not been able to find one damn karaoke bar down here.

* I haven't been able to get laid. (But does that really surprise you?)

What should have been the time of my life has become a living nightmare. I can't wait to get home.

And when I get home, I'm shutting it all off. My instincts are telling me to keep to myself, stay quiet and not to bother committing myself emotionally to anyone anymore. It's fucking useless and all that seems to happen is bullshit. I'm sick of bullshit. It stinks.

So I guess that's pretty much the end of this blog.

Yeah, that sucks.

I was kind of hoping for a small somewhat-happily-ever-for-a-little-while, but instead I got a big FU from the Universe. POINT TAKEN UNIVERSE. NOW STOP FUCKING WITH ME.

Oh well, at least I got to pet a kangaroo before I died.

Fatherly Advice

I was talking to my Dad tonight and he said this to me:

"Don't you go getting attached to someone down there [Australia]. It's a hell of a long way to visit each other."

I love my Dad. :)

G'day Mate

I'm going to Australia in two weeks. This trip popped up in my life because one of my best friends called off her wedding, which was to have taken place in southern Australia. She still wanted to go, but not alone. So she asked me, her would-be-maid-of-honour.

Two single gals on the loose in Oz.

Can someone give me a "HELL YA!"

Can someone give me a "CAN YOU DIG IT?"

Don't be surprised if I come home pregnant or married. Australian accents are hot.

Johnny Angel

What A Joke

I signed into Lava this morning and got a notification that I have a new smile. Out loud I said, "I bet you're 47!"

I clicked on the smile, and it turns out he's 45. I laughed so hard I'm sure the neighbours heard me when I fell off my chair and onto the floor.

Honestly, I don't know why I keep banging my face against this brick wall called dating. I suppose it has something to do with needing material for this blog.

Bah. Back under the rock I go.

Single Serving

In the ten years I've lived on my own, I've never cooked.

Okay never is a strong word. Let's just say 99.9999999% of the time, I eat out. Oh, and there were a few times I made a Maltese casserole when I was married and trying to play the part of a good wife. But other than that, it's breakfast, lunch & dinner as made by someone else's hands. Usually that of Mr. Horton, Mr. McDonald, or Ms. Thomas (that would be Wendy, in case you didn't know her last name).

The main reason behind my ineptness in the kitchen is because my Mom didn't live long enough to teach me that fine art. I also missed out on lessons in fashion, makeup, hair, tampons and just about everything else that defines women. Frankly, I don't have the patience for any of it.

On the odd occasion that I do "cook", it's usually something I toss into the microwave for 5 minutes. Regardless, most everything is sold in servings of 2 - 4. A lot of waste waiting to happen.

So I was at Loblaws tonight perusing the frozen food section and settled upon the PC brand of Shepherd's Pie. I love Shepherd's Pie. My Mom made awesome Shepherd's Pie from scratch. It's total comfort food for me. And with the hours I've been pulling at work the last few weeks, I was in great need of comfort.

As I was walking along towards the check out, I noticed a few people looking at me. Normally this doesn't faze me as I am gorgeous (insert eye roll here) but tonight, it was unusual. A few people even looked like they were feeling sorry for me. And then I realized why.

Nothing screams SINGLE like a TV dinner.

That's the last fucking time I buy only one frozen food entree.

Stupid jerks.

Welcome to Confusion, Pop. Me

I went to my friend's baby shower last month, which was more of a party than a traditional shower. Both men & women were invited and it was held at a cool restaurant in Thornhill.

One of the games we played was Pictionary, with all the words/phrases being baby-centric. Turns out I'm a freaking wizard at Baby Pictionary as I kept winning a majority of the prizes for my correct responses.

A friend of the father-to-be was on my team, and he had the unfortunate task of drawing "vaginal birth".

I thought it was bloody hilarious that this dude was such a good sport about it all. So I struck up a conversation with him. He was nice, friendly and cute. I asked if I could take a picture of him holding the piece of paper with "vaginal birth". He obliged. He then asked me if I could email him the picture. So I gave him one of my snazzy business cards so he could contact me.

Soon we became friends on Facebook and I sent him the picture, which he promptly posted as his profile picture.

One of my girlfriends had made the observation there was some chemistry happening between us. I've kept that tucked in the back of my mind until this weekend.

I was hanging out with my sister-in-law this weekend, busy moaning about that idiot LoneRanger and about the general fact that I am seemingly unable to meet any decent guys. All of a sudden, Mr. Vaginal Birth popped into my brain.

I told my sis-in-law the story of how we met and she suggested that I ask him out.

So I did. And here we go....

Paprika August 30 at 6:29pm
Any vaginal births lately? ;) Ha ha ha. How's life treating you? P :)

VB September 1 at 7:47am
Hey there .. nope.. no births of any kind.. no pictionary :) Life is good.. did some camping .. heading to sudbury for labour day. Howr you?

Paprika September 1 at 1:16pm
I'm good. I'm heading to Fort Erie for long weekend. My Dad & brothers still live down there. I was the one who flew the cuckoo's nest as fast as she could. :) Do you have family up in Sudbury or are you just going there for fun? So I'm going to be bold here and ask if you'd like to get together sometime? I really enjoyed talking to you at the shower. Feel free to let me down, just promise you'll be gentle about it. P :)

VB September 1 at 3:13pm
My mom n' dad are up in sudbury.. they live on a nice lake.. big deck, sauna.. so I'm heading up for the last rights of summer party :) hot saunas, cold beer. It was nice talking to you too.. and it may be one of my dumb moves but I'm going to decline. You seem awesome but I'm not feeling all I should to give you everything you deserve.

Geez. And I told him to be gentle about it. So much for being bold and trying something different.

Back to hiding under a rock.

Welcome to Cougarville, Pop. 1

ANGELPAINT says:
hey gorgeous!

PAPRIKA8 replies:
Hey there. :)

ANGELPAINT says:
im hoping u like younger men...wink wink lol ;)

PAPRIKA8 replies:
LOL What's not to like? :)

ANGELPAINT says:
well put it this way im looking for something casual my ex was 36 so im well trained lol

ANGELPAINT says:
just figured given the age gap it would be tough for something serious

PAPRIKA8 replies:
LOL. Thanks for the offer, but I'm looking for something serious.

ANGELPAINT says:
might we be on the same page..haha ya im bad

PAPRIKA8 replies:
My days of casual are over. Although they were lots of fun.

ANGELPAINT says:
so come out of retirement

PAPRIKA8 replies:
LOL Ah as much fun as that would be, I want to put my effort into something that will pay off in the end.

PAPRIKA8 replies:
You shouldn't have any problems finding someone who'll play with you.

ANGELPAINT says:
ya i know but i like u..haha come on it good at least until mr right comes along

PAPRIKA8 replies:
You're sweet, but like I said, I want to put my effort into a long term thing. If I'm spending my time playing, I won't be around for Mr. Right to find me.

Julie & Julia & Paprika

I went to a screening of "Julie & Julia" this evening with a couple of girlfriends, one of whom is about to give birth in a couple of weeks.

I had no expectations going into this film because I didn't know anything about either of the title characters.

It turned out to be quite a funny, yet touching film about two women, from two completely different eras, trying to find themselves. Both used cooking as a means to truly understand who they are.

I could totally relate. Well, except for the cooking part. :)

The film tells us that Julia Child was almost 40 years old and still a virgin when she met her husband Paul. The film depicted them as devoted, supportive and madly in love with each other.

In real life, they both lived to be over 90 years old. Fifty years of marriage. And fifty years of Julia's buttery cooking.

Lately I've been steadfast in my thought that it is way too late for me to find the love of my life. But after learning about Julia & Paul's love story, I feel hope again.

However, it doesn't make me feel better that she died childless. :P

Really?

Here's my horoscope for the day.

"Believe it or not your life is getting better by the day, the hour, even the minute, and what happens between now and the end of the week will prove it. Don’t let money worries blind you to the fantastic things that are going on in your world."

Oh please, oh please, oh please....

So Much For That

I'm done, again. But really, did we expect anything else?

LongeRanger duly ignored me for 7 straight days so I deleted him from Facebook last night. Short of a death in the family, he has ZERO excuse for this. The frustrating part is I know I'll never get to tell him what a douche bag he is. Because douche bags are cowards and they don't care about anyone but themselves.

I feel like I keep banging my face against the same brick wall. Somehow, everyone I know has managed to find the door, while I stand outside a bloody mess.

New Mantra

Calm down and carry on.

My DT told me this yesterday after having read my last post, and after having listened to me freak out on the phone for about 45 minutes.

I also talked to my sister-in-law last night about the same subject and she gave me the same advice - not in the same words - but absolutely the same sentiment.

I still haven't heard from Mr. Lone Ranger. And I decided to myself this morning that if by some miracle he does contact me again, I will simply let him know that I expect more. I'm certainly not expecting he contact me 10 times a day. But I do expect that if I call or email him, he calls or emails me back in a timely manner, i.e. within several hours instead of 72 hours. If he isn't willing to give me at least that, then he can gladly show himself the door.

As Steve Harvey so expertly wrote in his book "Act Like A Lady, Think Like A Man", women have to set standards. If a man won't live up to your standards, then cut him loose.

And that's what I intend to do.

Lone Ranger

I haven't written about this until now for two reasons. The first being, I wanted to keep it to myself for a while. The second being, he's pulling stupid-idiot-man-shit behaviour and you all know I can't not talk about that.

I went back onto Lava around the end of June. I figured since I wasn't meeting guys in real life, then I should at least get back online. This time though, I went in with the attitude that I will smile at everyone I thought was cute, but I wouldn't lose my shit if they didn't smile back.

I smiled and smiled and smiled and smiled. And nothing. And I was fine.

I smiled and smiled and smiled some more. And then I got a nibble from LoneRanger1972: 37 years old, lives in Oshawa, never married, no kids, freelance journalist, editor and PR guy. He sent me a nice email and our correspondence began.

We sent emails back and forth every couple of days over the course of 3 weeks, until one day he asked me for my email and/or phone number. I happily obliged.

He sent me an email soon after. And then a phone call that same evening. That call lasted almost 6 1/2 hours. Wowza. We covered a lot of ground, including my disastrous marriage and subsequent divorce.

And much to my surprise, he called me again a few days later (4 1/2 hour talk), asking me out on a date. We had our first date on July 31st. And as far as I could tell, everything went swimmingly as the date (which lasted 5 hours) ended with a smooch.

He said he'd call me after I got back from Fort Erie for the long weekend. I emailed him when I got back to town and then didn't hear anything from him for 3 days. Which made me cry. For real. I know it was stupid to get worked up over it, but the fact that we had over 11 hours of talking time and 5 hours in-person time clocked already, I was thinking this guy may be a contender.

He finally emailed me apologizing for the slow response time. He was busy with work. Okay, fair enough, he is a freelancer after all. We made plans for Date #2 - dinner and a movie.

Date #2 went extremely well, as that ended with a mini make out session on the corner of Yonge & Eglinton. I invited him to see my band play - Date #3.

My band played this past Saturday night. He showed up at the end of the first set and stayed until the show was over and we had finished tearing down. He smooched me goodnight and said he'd call me the next day.

Sunday came, and he called! And asked me out on Date #4 for that night. Movies again, which is awesome for me because that is my favourite thing to do.

So I'm standing in the lobby of the theatre at exactly 6pm, which was the prescribed meeting time. At 6:10pm I got a text saying he'll be late, well after 6:30pm which was the start time of the film. "Something came up that I couldn't get out of."

Okay fine, shit happens. I texted him back and said I'd be at the Firkin pub up the street from the theatre getting something to eat.

I grabbed a beer. Then I ordered food (shepherd's pie & veggies). Then I ate my food. Then I finished my beer. Then I got my bill. Then I paid my bill. And I was just about to leave when he finally showed up. ONE. HOUR. AND. FIFTEEN. MINUTES. LATE.

He looked sheepish walking in. He said hello. I simply asked, "What happened?" He launched into a long story about a very important agenda item being missed by him, which the client required before Monday morning. So he had to get it done, but it was a really tedious task. So what he thought would take him 20 minutes turned into 40 minutes, and well, that's why he was late.

Fine. I forgave him. He kissed me and sat down. Then I watched him drink a beer and eat chicken fingers & fries. I helped with the fries.

Instead of catching a later movie, I decided we should go see my bass player in a jazz trio playing at Gate 403.

We grabbed a few drinks, snuggled, held hands, and smooched a bit. All was fine again.

He dropped me off at the subway station. We had a full on make out session in his car. I liked the way he was kissing me. It was nice, not gross, and not sloppy. We said goodnight and he said he'd call me.

I sent him an email when I got home thanking him for the nice night out. No response (he's got a blackberry, so no excuses).

I called yesterday and got his voicemail so I left him a message. Hasn't called me back.

So here's the part where I lose my fucking mind. And here are the things that bug me.

1. When we talk, it's 90% him, 10% me. When I try to interject, he keeps talking. Methinks he likes the sound of his own voice, and he really loves using his extensively huge vocabulary, being a journalist and all.

2. He was late for all our dates. But none as spectacularly late as Date #4.

3. He's never offered me a ride home. I know he lives in Oshawa, which means he has to travel east of where we've been on dates, and I live a teeny bit west. However, he should mind that his lady friend gets home safely.

4. He has a funny walk. (I know, I'm just being petty at this point.)

5. When he says he'll call, it's daaaaaaays later. But when I'm not expecting anything, he bombards me. Case in point, Saturday morning. I was in the shower getting ready for an audition. I came out and there was 2 text messages on my phone. I went to dry my hair, came back and there was a voicemail. I put on clothes & makeup and checked my email before leaving, there was one from him. Huh zuh! Where is all this communication when I want it????

Does this guy actually dig me, or is he passing the time? Or is he completely clueless and that's why he's still single? Or am I expecting too much?

Oh, and I hadn't been on Lava since our 2nd date, but was curious today to see the last time he was on. Answer: yesterday, when he should have been fucking calling me back.

Parting Shot

I guess I spoke too soon about Woman's lack of gonads. Here's her parting shot.

-------------------------------------------------------
From: Woman
To: Paprika
Date: Mon, Aug 17, 2009 at 11:20 AM
Subject: RE: I guess I know now

Hey P,

Yes, I removed you from FB last week. Sorry if it was a shock – I wasn’t even sure you’d notice, or mind by this point.

I thought after some time had passed I would be able to keep you as friend without any problem but I find that it’s just too bizarre for me. I know you have a great big heart and also that Boy hurt you.

I know that you developed major feelings for him that were not reciprocated and also understand how his behavior might have been misleading. I wish he had not hurt you.

But what weirds me out is that you never told me about your history with him. It would have explained so much, and I would have been sympathetic and then some. But to find out so late, and not from you, and after all the times you criticized and vilified him – I believed you because, to my knowledge, you had no reason to lie and no vested interest. But I was wrong – you had both – and that changed everything. If I had known, things would have been very different.

There are times when I am tempted to give you a call and say “let’s hang out!” but then think it would be awkward and strained so I don’t.

But I do hope that you are very happy and that everything is going super well for you.

Take care and rock on...

Woman
-------------------------------------------------------

I just need to say this one more time: I WAS THE ONE WHO WAS CHEATED ON, HE'S THE ONE WHO LIED ABOUT EVERYTHING, SO WHY THE FUCK AM I THE BAD THE GUY HERE?

I made a decision not to tell her after they had broken up in February. Perhaps it was the wrong decision in her view. For me, there was no reason to drudge all that shit up because they were over. I looked at what I'd have wanted if the situation were reversed. I could only make a decision based on my point of view. I've always treated others the way I'd want to be treated, and if the situation were reversed, I would NOT have wanted to know. That is how I came to that decision to not say anything.

Seriously, when did it become a requirement that I divulge who I've slept with to my new girlfriends? I can bet you at least one person reading this has slept with the same guy that a friend has slept with. Granted my & Woman's situation was a little more twisted seeing as he cheated on me with her, and then cheated on her with me. But he told the same lie to both of us - he wasn't "with" anyone at the time, even though his actions directly contradicted what he said.

The root of the problem is that they got back together. I tried to caution her against this because I knew he was a skeeze ball. I don't like the fact she thinks the only reason I trashed him was because he hurt me. I would give the same advise to anyone who was dating a known cheater and overall douche bag. I would tell her what I know, but let her make up her own mind. Which is exactly what I did here. Obviously she chose to stay with him and I accepted that.

Their "relationship" is now at the 3 month mark, which is usually when Boy's dick leads him into another vagina. We'll see what happens in a few weeks. I don't doubt for one second he'll do it again to her. She's looking for a husband. He's looking for as much poontang pie as he can get.

Deleted

Woman deleted me from Facebook without so much as a parting "fuck you".

I hate passive aggressive behaviour. So I sent her an email to that effect. And in typical passive style, it was met without response.

I honestly and truly wish that she and Boy live happily ever after. But really, when has a Woman ever been truly happy with a Boy?

At least I've learned that lesson and am holding out for a Man.

And a Half

Today is my half birthday. I'm exactly 6 months into my 35th year of life.

I've always lived by the philosophy of finding every opportunity to celebrate. So as long as I can remember, I've always celebrated my half birthday. Of course, it's never with the extravagance of celebrating my real birthday, but I've always tried to do a little something special in honour of the half way point.

This half birthday is met with mixed emotions. I'll be 35 in 6 short months.

Thirty-five.

THIRTY-BLOODY-FIVE! I would be a liar if I said that this doesn't bother me. It. Bothers. Me. And only because I am no where near where I want to be in my personal life.

Professionally, I feel pretty good. I'm the head of something now, after having taken a hit and losing my job where I was the head of nothing. I know there will be more opportunity for me to grow in my new position and I am excited about that.

I'm in a band. That's miles ahead of where I was only 3 years ago. I've written and recorded a song. Doesn't sound like much, but that's a huge accomplishment for me. I finally got that creative ball rolling and there's no stopping it now.

Personally, I feel lousy. I'm still stuck in the same place I was when I started this blog. There has been zero positive movement. There's been a whole lot of shitbag negative movement, but who the fuck wants to celebrate that?

I took a look at a post from exactly a year ago today, and guess what? It was about me feeling sad because I had no one at home waiting for me after work. And guess what again? That fact is still true. Probably more true now seeing as at least I was going on regular dates last summer. Wow, I think I've actually made negative progress in my love life.

So now that I'm staring the big three-five in the eye, I don't feel quite so celebratory.

You know, if it wasn't for this damn screaming biological clock, I think things would be a whole lot better.

Corner Brit

I have run into the Brit twice randomly, on the same corner of the city, which happens to be right across from the building I work in.

Yesterday he mentioned he would stop by to visit my office after work. I worked almost an hour late yet he never showed up.

Any chance of going out with him has now disappeared. There's no way I'd accept his invitation at this point. It's been 3 weeks since the party where he asked me out and he's yet to actually follow through by making a date. And now he can't even follow through on the simple act of popping in to say hello.

Bah. The accent is totally not worth it.

Cold Shoulder

My new BFF still hasn't spoken to me since I told her everything. I heard through FilmFestGirl that she and Boy are still together.

Oh well.

(Long expulsion of air from deep within my lungs)

At least she knows the whole truth. And that's all I can do about it.

More power to her. I really hope he doesn't hurt her again.

Love Conquers All

Lost love letter reunites couple after 16 years (AFP)

LONDON — A British man and his Spanish former sweetheart have finally married 16 years after they drifted apart, reunited by a love letter lost behind a fireplace for over a decade, reports said on Monday.

Steve Smith and Carmen Ruiz-Perez, both now 42, fell in love 17 years ago when she was a foreign exchange student in Brixham, southwest England, and got engaged after only a year together.

But their relationship ended after she moved France to run a shop in Paris.

A few years later, in a bid to rekindle their love, Smith sent a letter to her mother's home in Spain. It was placed on the mantelpiece, but slipped down behind the fireplace and was lost for over a decade.

The missing missive was only found when builders removed the fireplace during renovation work.

"When I got the letter I didn't phone Steve right away because I was so nervous," Ruiz-Perez told the Herald Express local newspaper.

"I nearly didn't phone him at all. I kept picking up the phone then putting it down again.
"But I knew I had to make the call."

When they were reunited, it was as if time had stood still, said Smith, a factory supervisor.

"When we met again it was like a film. We ran across the airport into each other's arms. We met up and fell in love all over again. Within 30 seconds of setting eyes on each other we were kissing.

"I'm just glad the letter did eventually end up where it was supposed to be," he said, after the couple married last Friday.

Copyright © 2009 AFP. All rights reserved.

Hell Hath Thawed

It's been a week and the Brit has yet to make good on taking me out to dinner.

The day after the party, I posted a comment on his Facebook wall about a hilarious thing he'd said at the party. To which he replied, "Oh God, I don't remember".

So I messaged him and asked him what else he didn't remember. He replied the last thing he remembers was talking to me about my band. That was waaaaaaaay early in the evening. He didn't remember how he got home. I told him I'd offered him a ride but he declined. I also filled him on the fact that he gave me his number and asked me out.

When he finally responded, he told me he'd been filled in on how he got home (shared a cab with 2 other cast members) and that yes, he'd love to go out with me. He sort of remembered that.

So I wrote him back and said I'd leave it up to him to arrange for us to go out.

And I've heard nothing since.

Satan must be happy the temperatures have returned to normal down there.

Hell Hath Frozen

It must be cold for Satan these days. I can't figure out how or why it happened, but hell must have frozen over this weekend because a guy asked me out.

On Saturday night, I was at a cast party for the show that I house managed during the Fringe. I was surprised I was even invited, which I guess is a great testament of my ability to a) make friends; and b) run a tight show schedule.

During the run, I developed a small crush on the lead actor. He's tall, lanky, blonde, blue eyed and British. Oh you better believe it's the accent that I fell for. :) I also developed pneumonia, which resulted in my missing 3 of the shows.

And now, for the back story...

The last time I saw the Brit before the pneumonia KO'd me was on Monday night after the show. We all gathered at the Tranzac, as we did after every show, as that is Fringe headquarters and party palace. Each night there was some sort of dance party or special event. Monday was karaoke - need I say more?

My friend Gordon showed up and we decided to do the MJ classic "The Way You Make Me Feel" as a duet and humble tribute to the late King of Pop. Gordon got a little overzealous in his dance moves and crashed onto his knees about 3/4 of the way through. And that fucked the karaoke machine so bad it stopped dead and they had to take a few minutes to reboot it. The DJ promised he'd get us back up later.

So later turned into 2 hours later and by this point, I was feeling awful and was losing my voice a bit. I had quite a husk going on. Gordon and I were called back up and we decided to continue our tribute and do "Black or White".

This time Gordon behaved and we made it through the song. As I was coming down off the stage and wheezing a little bit, the Brit appeared before me.

"You were AMAZING!!!"

I squeaked out a thank you and before I knew it, he was crushing me in a hug. Awww. Cute. :)

After that we started dancing together. Every once in a while, he'd randomly hug me, and kiss me on the cheek. Double awww.

The time came for me to say my goodbyes as I had a super important meeting at the day job the following morning. He gave me yet another hug and kiss and said, "You are so wonderful." Triple awww.

Tuesday morning came and I ended up not at the important work meeting, but at the walk-in clinic being told I had pneumonia in my right lung. I called work and told them I'd been ordered to bed. I followed that up with a call to my boss at the Fringe informing him of my disease. So no show for me that night.

Wednesday & Thursday came with more bed rest on my part, and more confusion at Fringe. Was I coming back? How many more days did I need to rest? Would I be well enough before the end of the festival?

Turns out Friday was the magical day for me. I didn't go to the day job, and I slept for most of the day so I could make it through the shift.

When I arrived at the theatre, the cast was thrilled to see me back. Apparently all hell broke loose while I was away. The Brit was particularly happy to see me. The first words out of his mouth were, "I was worried sick about you." That was followed up with another wonderfully crushing hug. He then told me he feared he'd done something offensive to me at karaoke night and that's why I didn't show up on Tuesday. The cast didn't know why I was missing until Thursday!

At those last two shows, I noticed he was making effort to come visit me whenever he could. At one point during a costume change, he peeked his head around the corner, smiled and waved.

...long back story eh?

Sooooooo, I arrived at the cast party fashionably late. The Brit had yet to arrive. I brought some beer for everyone, which made me a mini hero of sorts. I chilled and talked with members of the cast and various friends/significant others. About half an hour later, he showed up.

Upon sight he gave me another one of his patented crushing hugs and declared how thrilled he was to see me. He also mentioned he didn't think I was actually going to show up.

From that point on, we were inseparable save the occasional pee breaks and smoke breaks (for him, not me). We chatted about pretty much everything. He asked me a million questions, one of which was, "Are you single?" I begrudgingly informed him that yes indeed, I was. He also asked if I've ever had a serious relationship. I told him about my ex-husband to which he replied, "Ooooh, a divorcee! How sexy!" That made me laugh. I've never thought being a divorcee was sexy in the least.

As the night wore on, he became more and more drunk. I gotta hand it to him though, he can really hold his alcohol. I saw him put away at least 10 beers. And the more he drank, the more he flirted with me. He sat on my lap at one point - that bugger weighs less than I do, I'm sure of it. He sat beside me and held my hand for a few moments - he's got really slender fingers. And he tried to crawl up my jeans. Yes, he tried. I was standing rockin' the bass on Rock Band and he crawled along the floor and his hands found their way up my right pant leg. He tried to stuff his head up there too but thankfully there was no room. And even more thankfully, I'd shaved my legs that morning!

Around 4:30am, I finally decided I had to go home.

I gave him a hug and said I'd had a lot of fun. As we pulled back, he looked at me and said, "We're friends now right?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, since we're friends, we could get dinner some time. Or grab a pint?"

"Yeah, that sounds good."

"I'm so happy I met you! Is it totally rude of me to be asking you out like this?"

And that's when Satan pulled on a pair of long johns for the first time in, well, eternity.

He gave me his number, another few crushing hugs and off I went. I sent him a text message shortly thereafter so he'd have my number.

And now we'll see if he actually follows through.

This Sucks

It's been almost a year since my divorce was finalized. And two things haven't changed - I still don't have a boyfriend and my bangs still haven't grown out.

Nothing I do seems to make any difference in either situation. My bangs are stuck at chin length and there are no men in sight.

I do not want to die alone with shitty looking bangs.

And if one more person tells me I have to be happy about being alone, I'm gonna fucking cut their bangs and their boyfriend's balls off.

Double Whammy

Yesterday had to be one of the most surreal days I've experienced since 9/11. Farrah Fawcett passed away at around 12:30PM, and a few hours later, the news broke out that Michael Jackson had too crossed the proverbial finish line.

Michael. Fucking. Jackson.

I was at dinner with DT when her phone rang. She mentioned it was probably her lawyer as she'd been leaving messages for her all afternoon.

I zoned out and stared out the window. I try not to listen in on conversations, even the half that are happening in front of me.

I glanced at DT and saw her eyes had opened up so huge I really thought they were about to fall out of her head.

My first thought was that someone had died.

Then her jaw unhinged and hit the table. Really. It was like a cartoon morphing in front of me.

My second thought was that someone had definitely died, and it was likely someone in her family.

Then she moved the phone away from her face, looked at me and said, "Michael Jackson is dead".

She may as well have spoken in Mandarin because my brain did not compute one syllable of that sentence.

What. The. Fuck?!

I grabbed my phone and dialled Fried Beans. She's the biggest MJ fan I know. She didn't answer any of her 3 numbers. I was freaking out. Finally she phoned me back. She'd seen the news break on TMZ.com. She was still at the office. She started running around, trying to find someone to tell who would be just as flabbergasted as she was. The one person she did find simply shrugged at the news. I told her I'd call her when I got home.

DT and I spent the next few hours walking around the mall in a daze. I just wanted to scream "MJ IS DEAD!" at everyone who passed by. A lot of people hadn't heard yet and as we were discussing it, we could see heads turning and eyes widening.

We went into Jacob to look for clothes. While I was trying on some pants, I heard DT tell the girls at the cash register the news. "OH MY GOD!" and "WHAT?!" rang through the store. Finally, the same reaction that had been bouncing around inside my head.

We went to Hallmark to buy DT's Dad a birthday card. Her father had a heart scare a few months ago. He's around the same age as MJ. She'd mentioned the similarities. "But your Dad didn't die". "Well, he could have."

At the cash, she told the girl about the news. At that moment, a lady and her son were walking past us. The boy must have been 10 years old at the most. He piped up, "Yup, he's dead."

I whipped my head around, "You heard about it too?"

The mother explained, "We were in the food court and it came on the news on the TV down there."

Then the little boy made the same noise a heart monitor makes when someone flat lines. BEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEP. He hasn't hit the age yet when one realizes they are mortal.

DT and I made a beeline for the food court and watched the news for a while. I noticed everyone around us stopping and staring at the screen. Everyone was in Shock.

After getting home, I called Fried Beans again and we watched CNN together over the phone. We mostly watched in silence, but every once in a while, she'd randomly yell NO. We talked a bit about our memories of MJ from our childhood. I had wanted that red zipper jacket so badly. My father yelled at me because it cost something like $99, which back in 1985 was a truckload of money. She told me a story about stealing her sister's MJ locket, which she later stuck into an outlet and received a mild shock.

I finally called it quits around 11:30pm, seeing as I had to get up for work this morning. She ended up watching until 4:30am.

I had nightmares about MJ all night and when I woke up this morning, I had to think for a moment. Was it real? Or did I dream it all? In those foggy moments before I was fully awake, MJ was still alive and the world hadn't flipped over on its ass.

Alas, it wasn't a dream. And the papers this morning proved it. Every major paper was carrying the story front and center. Poor Farrah Fawcett was relegated to a teeny corner on the front page of only two of them.

I guess part of the reason this is so hard for me to wrap my head around is because it's more proof that there is no escaping death. It doesn't matter if you are a famous actress or the biggest pop icon on Earth. One day, I'll join them in sweet oblivion.

It takes me back to last summer when my appendix turned on me and I almost died. I would have died alone in my apartment and who knows how long it would have been before anyone found me. At least FF and MJ had people with them when they passed on.

I guess I'm more afraid of dying alone than just dying period. Which is probably the real reason I'm so desperate to find Hubby #2 (or 3 if need be). It has nothing to do with getting too old to have children, it has everything to do with someone being there as I draw my last breath.

I'm still going to try to figure a way out of this whole stupid mortality thing. :P

It's Done

My new BFF, a.k.a. Woman, knows everything now.

Every. Last. Dirty. Detail.

I did not want this to happen. But it's all out now and frankly, I do feel relieved I don't have to carry that secret around with me anymore.

It all came to a head on Sunday. But first, let's back up a few weeks.

We went for drinks one fine Tuesday night, where she revealed that she had forgiven Boy for his previous transgressions and they are once again a couple. I tried vehemently to dissuade her from going down the same path to hell. She assured me that he's "serious" now and that she blames herself for treating him so badly before. I spent the better part of an hour waxing angrily that he will only hurt her again. She took what I said to heart but in the end, decided that he makes her happy.

One thing she didn't share with me was the condition on which she accepted him back. She told him she had to be able to trust him, and that if he had anything to come clean about, he should do it then and there. So Boy opens his big fat yap and says he had a "thing" with me before getting together with her.

Fast forward to Sunday.

I was at the street festival that I mentioned in my last post. I was hanging out with Film Fest Girl, who is also friends with nBFF. We went for drinks and nachos after we'd had enough of walking around. At some point the conversation turned to Boy and nBFF. And then she dropped this line on me, "Maybe I shouldn't say anything."

Yeah right. No one says they shouldn't say anything unless they are dying to say something!

I finally forced it out of her and that is how I found out that Boy "came clean". I use the quotations with purpose because I knew without a doubt, he only told her part of the story. There's no way he told the whole truth. I know she would have never agreed to give him another chance if she knew everything.

After nBFF and I had started becoming friends, I told Boy specifically that he was never to speak a word of what happened between us. I promised him I would ruin his life if he ever told her. As far as history and the universe were concerned, he and I never happened. He looked me in the eye and SWORE to me he'd never breathe a word.

So it goes without saying that I was all sorts of pissed off after finding out he blabbed. I wanted to take the nachos we were eating and throw them on the floor. I wanted to take my pint glass and smash it against the wall. I wanted to flip the table we were sitting at. I wanted to scream at the top of my lungs.

I told FFG that I was going to call nBFF and give her the whole damn truth. FFG begged me not to. But I really had no choice in this. nBFF at the very least deserves to know the whole story and then make an informed decision about whether or not to continue on with Boy.

I called nBFF as soon as I got home. I asked her to tell me exactly what Boy had told her. He said he and I had dated before she ever came into the picture.

I then informed her that was Lie Number One. The truth was he CHEATED on ME with HER. She gasped. Then it was onto Lie Number Two and the infinite number of Lies that followed. Most of which I've documented right here.

I spilled my guts for two hours and let me tell you, it wasn't pretty. She cried. I cried. She asked questions. I answered all of them, no holds barred.

As of right now, she's stepping back from everything, which includes talking and hanging out with me. I can't say that I blame her one bit.

I just pray that she walks away from him before he gets a chance to hurt her again. My good friend Fried Beans said this about the situation,

"Love is blind. I have seen you do things just as dumb. One day he will hurt her enough that she will move on. It's amazing how much we will put up with if we think there is a small chance."

Yep.

Blep.

Sigh.

Palm of My Hand

There was a street festival down in the Annex today. It was such a beautiful day for walking around and just enjoying what my neighbourhood has to offer. There were lots of little booths to peruse. I bought a wicked little shirt for my friend's daughter - I'm doing my best to turn her into a rock star as early as possible.

Another booth I dropped some dough in was for a psychic named Lisa Moore, who apparently was featured in the New York Times back in 1995.

The last time I went to a psychic was around 2003. That one told me I'd be married twice. I laughed in her face as I didn't even have a boyfriend at the time. Lo and behold I would be married for the first time 3 years later.

So I figured it was time again to see what the future holds. I asked for a palm reading and here's what she had to say (in the order I can remember):

* I will live a long and happy life.
* I am a kind and giving person.
* I am generous.
* I often do not receive as much as I put out there.
* The rewards I will receive will come from a higher power.
* There is going to be financial gain in the next 6 months, not to spend, but to save.
* I will be traveling over water.
* There will be a family gathering - a family member will fall ill but will make a full recovery.
* There will be a change in my career.
* I am stuck in a holding pattern, need to get rid of the negativity I still carry around.
* I have a smile on my face, but not in my heart.
* September is my love month, with a commitment coming in the new year.

I have to say, she got a lot right. The traveling over water thing is true - my boss told me last week that it's likely I'll be going to China in September with him. That's way over a lot of water!

The negativity thing is true too. I have realized over the last few months, and especially over the last few weeks, that I'm really not over what happened in my marriage. The subject of my ex has come up almost daily and when I talk about it, I keep realizing how completely obliterated I still feel. I do walk around with a smile on my face. But my heart is totally sad.

I almost laughed in her face about the September love month prediction. Honestly, I've come to my wits end on this topic. I snuck back onto PoF this week and sent 2 messages. Both were read and deleted. I just cannot for the life of me figure out what I'm doing wrong! My picture is cute, my profile is short and to the point, and yet NOTHING. So I removed my profile again. Three times and I'm definitely OUT.

I was truly hoping that by July, specifically by the anniversary of the start of this blog, I'd at least be dating someone. My DT is already living with her new beau. Everyone around me is getting married and having babies. And I've really got nobody.

NOBODY.

It's no wonder I'm so sad on the inside.

The Gift

I've tried to give this away twice. And both times, I've had to take it back. I'm hoping there will be a third opportunity. And that time, it will be charmed.

Girl Crush

When I was around 7 years old, I had a crush on a teenage black girl who lived in my neighbourhood. Keep in mind this was the early 80s, so the neighbourhoods in sleepy Niagara weren't as integrated as they are now.

She was tall with medium black skin, and her hair was cropped short. She had this amazing smile and beautiful sing song voice complete with exotic accent. I really wanted to be her when I grew up.

I can't really remember how we even met. I think my Mom may have been friends with her mom. At any rate, we spent a lot of time playing at the park near my house.

One sunny day, we went to the park and climbed around the playground equipment. There was one portion that I called the tree house, because it was a box built way up high. I had always wished for a tree house but we didn't have a tree in our yard that could support that kind of structure. So I dubbed that part of the set as my own tree house.

We sat up there with the sun and the wind. I remember she was wearing a white sun dress that had colourful stripes. The white really stood out against her skin.

I'm not sure how long we were up there. In my memory, it feels like it could have been the entire day.

At one point, and I'm not exactly sure how we got to that point, she took my hand and placed it on her breast. I didn't think it was weird at all. It felt natural to me. I remember cupping her breast and thinking how perfectly it fit into my hand. I also remember feeling her shiver, and feeling goosebumps prickle up against my hand.

We sat there for a while. I wondered when I would grow breasts. I wondered why she picked me to be so close with.

And after that day I never saw her again. I can't remember why though. I'm sure it went something like this:

I went home and my Mom asked me where I'd been. I would have told her the truth, because I wouldn't have thought I'd done anything wrong. I was in the tree house holding my friend's boob. And then my Mom would have freaked out because she was a devout Catholic and had been brought up to think homosexuality is an abomination. And then she probably would have called my friend's mom and told her what happened and that I wouldn't be allowed to see her daughter again.

My poor Mom. The things she had to go through in her short time on this planet. God bless her soul.

I'm certainly not gay. But I also know that I have had crushes on girls through out my life. The same kinds of crushes I've had on boys. The kind that make your stomach flip and produce butterflies.

My current girl crush is piano player I met a few months ago, who is in my friend's band. She's a bit taller than me (I guess I like taller no matter the sex), with long, brown, curly hair. She's so warm and friendly, you can't help but like her. She's divorced too and currently looking for love.

I'm trying to convince her to ask out the drummer in the band. I've seen the way he looks at her, and the way he hangs off every word she speaks.

The ironic thing is that I've got a crush on the drummer too. Since I know I can't be with either of them, they might as well be together. How's that for twisted Freudian theories?

In the meantime, I'll just continue to enjoy her company. And maybe arrange a jam session or two where she'll play and I'll sing. We'll make sweet music together in the literal sense.

Soldier

I had a bizarre dream last night.

I was on a cruise ship with my family and friends, on our way to Cuba. There was a lot of walking around trying to find people and figuring out what was happening.

I met up with my brothers in a state room on the boat and we were talking about potentially taking a new apartment together. I told them we had to make a decision as it was the last day in the month and we'd all have to give notice to our respective landlords. There was a lot of talking back and forth about the subject and at one point, I excused myself because I had to go to the bathroom.

I walked around the ship looking for a bathroom and I kept getting stopped by people I knew and totally forgetting I had to go pee. At one point, someone asked me when I was due. I was extremely puzzled by the question. I looked down and suddenly realized that I was about 8 months pregnant. Even after seeing my pregnant belly, I still didn't feel like I was carrying a child.

I looked out one of the windows and realized we'd arrived at the port in Cuba. I left the ship for a fun day on the island.

I still had to go to the bathroom so I started walking towards a park where I thought I saw a restroom area. I was wearing a long, tan trench coat and realized I was feeling very warm so I took it off.

I got into one of the stalls in the restroom, shut the door, and hung my trench coat on the hook. I looked down and saw how truly pregnant I was. I was wearing a pretty white summer dress. In that moment, I finally felt the baby. It felt like it took up space in my whole body, not just in my belly.

All of a sudden, I realized why I felt like I had to pee. It was actually that I was in labour. I felt the baby moving out of my body. I looked down and saw the baby's head. I thought, "Okay, I'd better catch my baby!"

The delivery took all of 30 seconds. I had the baby in my arms and was waiting for it to cry. Nothing. So I wiped the face and eyes and dug my fingers into its mouth.

Still nothing.

The baby was starting to turn blue and I started to freak out. I smacked its bum and rubbed its chest to try to get the breathing going.

Then the baby opened its eyes and looked at me with panic. Then its face started to scrunch up like it was about to cry.

Still nothing.

I dug my fingers into its mouth again, trying to clear the passage way. Its tongue came out and it was still looking at me with panic.

I remember thinking the baby looks just like me. Thick black hair, brown eyes and an olive complexion.

And then all of a sudden the baby started to wail.

Relief washed over me.

I remember thinking it must be a girl because of the resemblance. I did a quick check and yes, it was a girl!

Things get a little fuzzy at this point but the next thing I remember is being back on the ship with everyone congratulating me.

Someone asked me where little Soldier was. I responded that she was sleeping in my room. I asked the person to please refer to her by her given name.

"But Soldier fits her perfectly."

I smiled. Yes it did. She was my little Solider.

And then I woke up.

Sad

Yes, I am.

Trying to keep in perspective. But it's hard.

Because I'm sad.

Yeah, No Kidding

"I don't like being single, no. I live this fantastic life, full of all these magical things, and at the end of the day all I want to do is pick up my phone and share it with someone. The other day I'd sold a million records in the U.S. and I didn't have anyone to tell. It was actually a really lonely moment."

- Singer Katy Perry, tells the new issue of British Cosmo

True Blue

I went out with my best girlfriends Blondie & Jelly to karaoke last night, where a blue-haired, tattooed, 19 year old boy decided he loved me.

We'd seen this guy a few months ago when we were at the same bar. It was his birthday that night so being the nice girl I am, I wished him a happy one. Perhaps that laid the groundwork for the decision that we were meant to be together.

He came over to our table after I'd finished singing and said hello and gave me a big hug. Cute. He mentioned he was there alone, so again, being the nice girl I am, invited him to sit with us.

From that point on, he was determined to get me to agree to go out with him.

I have to admit, it certainly was flattering. If he'd been 10 years older, I probably would have agreed. But the fact of the matter is that I'm old enough to be his mother. For seriously.

At one point, while I was in the ladies room, he appealed to my girls for advice. He wanted to know if he had a shot with me. Unequivocally, they both said NO. But that didn't stop him!

He asked me to add him to Facebook. I said sure. He asked me for my phone number. I said sure to that too. I didn't want to break his little heart any more than we already had. We literally laughed in his face when he said he was a very mature 19 year old and that he could certainly provide me with what I would need in a relationship. This was after he asked me what it was that I needed in a relationship. (Answer: A man who is strong enough to be my partner.) Oh, and he asked me for my favourite colour. (Answer: Red.)

When I awoke from my drunken coma this afternoon (thank you 2 Jim Beams & 3 Cosmos), I checked my Facebook and there was his friend request. So I accepted it as promised. And soon after I received an email from him with the subject line "Please read". So I did.

hey.. ok well here it is.. i thought bout our chat and some other things.. unno maybe your right and maybe im right i dont know.. either way i had fun.. you and the girls were awesome keep up the singing.. but i guess i am just not what you need around you. this is not a cop out. i am jsut gonna be the smart one and back off while its nothing still.. your pretty kik azz and i had fun getting to know you.. if you ever need anything or wish to chat well you know where i am.. have a great life.. see you on the flip side... Peace

I'm not really sure what he means about seeing me on the flip side. Last time I checked, I wasn't going to die anytime soon. Maybe his blue hair tells him things about the future....

I noticed that he had removed me as a friend, as when I was about to write back, FB warned me this would allow him to see my profile. Geez, that was the shortest FB relationship I've ever had.

At any rate, this is more evidence as to why I'm destined to be alone. I certainly don't want to be a cradle robber, or be with someone who admittedly has multiple personality disorder (his words, not mine). And I really do want someone who's not only strong enough to be with me, but who has a command of spelling and grammar.

Waves of Rejection

It seems my ability to repel men extends to the waters of the Caribbean.

I went on a cruise with the New Kids on the Block. They advertised it as the once in a lifetime chance to hang with the guys I've been chasing for the last 20 years.

Now don't get me wrong, I never thought for one moment that I'd get more than 30 seconds with any of them. I went into it thinking if I happen to run into them around the ship, then cool. If I didn't, that would be fine as well.

Turns out that I did run into them randomly, on more than one occasion. The one I ran into most was Joey, who happens to be my favourite.

And that motherfucker broke my heart.

All I wanted was a picture of me with him. I ran into him randomly 3 times and each time I asked him (very politely I might add), he said NO. His reasoning? If he did it for me, he'd have to do it for everyone else.

Which begs the question - WASN'T THAT THE FUCKING POINT OF THE CRUISE?

After the third denial, I just threw myself at him and gave him a hug anyway. I felt like a rapist because I didn't ask permission, I just took it. I was so upset I actually went back to my room to cry. He stabbed my 34 year old heart and killed my 14 year old soul at the same time.

I'm sitting here crying just thinking about this again. I spent about $2000 on this trip and I got pretty much nothing to show for it. A stolen moment with someone I've loved with all my heart for 20 years.

There were other girls who were all waaaaaaaay hotter than me who got the opportunity for photos and autographs because they dressed like sluts and acted like total bitches. I spoke to a lot of other girls who were all feeling the same thing, "What's wrong with me?"

The cruise did nothing for my self confidence. I did not once walk around the boat in my swim suit. I was too ashamed around all the beautiful people. I usually don't care what I look like in a bikini but man, I was surrounded by 2,000 women, most of whom looked like they fell out of a fashion magazine.

At any rate, there was one small moment of awesome, in the form of my very cute waiter. His name was Sasa (pronounced Sasha) and he was from Bosnia, complete with the accent. He was tall, blonde and blue eyed. My usual suspect. :)

The first night that my roomie and I went to the formal dining room, I didn't even notice that we had a preassigned table. We just wanted to sit by a window and watch the water wave on by. The only window seat available was in Sasa's section.

It was love at first appetizer.

The second night I was wearing a little black dress with a ton of clevage, because we were supposed to dress up. The tour organizers made up these retarded theme nights on the boat. The first night was a PJ Party, the second night was Dress to Impress, and the third night was a White Party. At any rate, I was looking pretty smokin' if I do say so myself. And I think Sasa noticed because he was particularly chatty that evening.

On the final night, two friends joined my roomie and me for dinner. We'd met these amazingly awesome girls at karaoke on the first night. They were both tall, gorgeous and super nice so we all became buds. One was from St. Louis and the other from Beverly Hills.

The three girls were decked out in white while I rebelled and wore black again. It also happened to be BH's birthday that night, so she looked extra gorgeous in a beautiful white dress. So while everyone was placing their order, I managed to catch Sasa's eye and mouthed "It's her birthday". He winked and nodded.

Between dinner and dessert, Sasa came over and leaned in to whisper in my ear.

Now if I may digress for a moment... I cannot find the words to accurately describe the thrill of having a man that close to me. The way he leaned in, his arm touching my shoulder. The way he smelled. The feeling of his breath on my cheek. Yes folks, it's been *that* long.

So the reason he was leaning in (and unknowingly giving me an orgasm) was because he needed to know BH's name for the cake and off-key singing. I told him her name, and he said "What?" rather loudly. This got the rest of the table's attention. BH does have an unusual name, but seriously, who's he to judge SASA?! So I repeated her name. Everyone heard me say her name. Then he said, "See you at 1am". I giggled and he left.

The girls all automatically assumed that Sasa was interested in BH, was using me to gather information about her, and arranging a rendez-vous after his shift.

And honestly, I would have made that assumption too. She's tall, tanned, toned and drop dead gorgeous. I, on the other hand, am resembling a white potato more and more with each passing day.

So the surprise of BH's birthday cake and off-key singing had even more of an impact. None of them at the table had any clue that I had set it up in plain sight.

Afterwards, we all headed to the upper deck for the White Party. I kept my eyes peeled for Sasa while the girls kept their eyes locked on NKOTB partying in their isolated VIP area.

About half an hour later, my roomie finally put two and two together. "It was YOU he wanted to meet tonight."

Yup, potato-y me.

Needless to say, I never found him that night. It's too bad too cuz I would have fucked the accent right out of him.

Latin Lovers

Tonight I met a super hot guy from Mexico. He's in town for the Hot Docs festival, at which I am a theatre rep and he, a loyal volunteer. He's a documentary film making student and is here strictly because of his passion for his craft.

I afforded him all sorts of privileges that are usually reserved for paid staff such as myself, strictly based on his hotness. It's true what they say, pretty people get all the perks. I couldn't help myself. I was going to do anything to ingratiate myself to him, in the hopes he'd talk to me with his beautifully accented voice.

After the shift was over and Señor Hottie went home, I mentioned the hotness factor to my co-rep who happens to be a bodacious, blonde, Brazilian babe. She had noted that I was making googly eyes most of the night. I asked her what she thought about him. She agreed he was cute. Then the conversation drifted to my perma-single status and I asked her if she had a boyfriend or a husband. She said she had a girlfriend to whom she is engaged.

Huh-zaaaaa! I had no clue she is a lesbian! Her status is on Facebook, and clear that she is engaged to a woman. She even asked me why I hadn't noticed that on FB. Honestly, I'm only interested in guys' statuses (I finally figured out the proper plural of status) to see if they are single.

She's totally not your stereotypical lezbot. And neither is her fiancée. These girls are super hot babes with zero masculine tendencies.

It's funny that I was just thinking to myself tonight that guys have way more selection for hotties, whether they are straight or gay. The reason I was thinking this is because part of my duties as a rep involve a lot of people watching. And as people come in and out of my theatre, I've noticed that there are way more hot gay men then there are hot lesbian women.

Every lesbian I've ever met has been an Ugh-Oh-Good-God-NO! Every gay man I've ever met (aside from one ghastly disaster) has been super hot, super stylish and super awesome, making me want to have a sex change so I can hook up with these nicely manicured men.

Any any rate, my co-rep got to go home to her hot woman. And I went home sans Señor Hottie, or any señor for that matter.

Flattering

I got a call today from a friend of mine to let me know that a friend of hers wants to ask me out on a date.

I pinched myself to make sure I wasn't dreaming because this *never* happens.

Turns out about a year ago, I was over at her place when the dude came by to visit. And apparently, he hasn't stopped thinking about me since. He somehow convinced himself that I was married, and therefore, not available.

He was chatting with my friend the other day and somehow I came up in the conversation. It was then confirmed that I am in fact single. So he asked my friend for my number. She told him she'd ask.

I was embarrassed to tell her that I did not remember this dude at all. Aside from the fact that he is male, I had zero recollection of him. However, he has me burned in his brain forever according to her. He said I was "smoking hot" and had a "wicked singing voice".

So would I consider going out with this guy who apparently adores me? Of course. However, it turns out that he is a smoker. And unfortunately, that's one of my deal breakers. I told my friend to tell him thanks but no thanks. My ex husband was a smoker (along with being an abusive bastard, but I digress) and I will never go down that path again, no matter how nice the guy is.

She called up the dude and sadly informed him of my answer. His reaction? "For Paprika, I'll quit."

Totally cute and very flattering of him, but it ain't gonna happen. I told my friend to let him know he can ask me out again when he's been smoke free for at least a year. And I can bet my bottom dollar that will *never* happen. My ex husband wouldn't quit for me, and I'm certain this dude won't either.

Oh well, it was nice while it lasted.

She's Not the Only One

“I am totally confident that I am an incredible artist and performer. I am extremely confident about my body, the way I dress, the way I want to look. But I have no confidence when it comes to men. Men are a disaster area for me. It’s so weird because I believe I am super sexy. I believe I am incredible, but I have absolutely no luck with boyfriends.”

- Lady GaGa told British reporters

Still Waiting

Here is something I wrote in a little notebook that has been living in the bottom of my purse for the last 9 months. I'm still waiting for this guy to show up.

July 28, 2008

He will have kind eyes.
He will have a bright smile.
He will be loving and gentle.
He will have a great sense of humour.
He will be extremely patient.
He will want children.
He will pay me the attention I want and need.
He will be a great listener.
He will protect me always.
He will be understanding and respectful of my past.
He will put my feelings first.
He will never raise his voice in anger.
He will work hard at keeping our relationship solid.
He will appreciate the things I like.
He will always express his love for me.

New Matches

I keep getting emails from PoF, telling me there are NEW MATCHES!!!!

Whoopee.

I guess they didn't get the memo that I quit dating.

The matches I need are the kind that make fire. So I can burn everything down around me.

Chef Jeff x2

I was at a local restaurant tonight for my friend's show. I was the guest singer last week. Went to check out this week's guest performer and to check out the drummer who I think is hot.

The chef at the restaurant, Jeff (ironic!), was there hanging out after his shift. He remembered me from last week. He sat down and started chatting with me. He had blue eyes, a beard and a cool poorboy Kangol hat.

At one point I grabbed his hand to pull him closer so I could tell him something. I didn't let go of his hand cuz it felt nice. He leaned in and said, "Can we stop that?" Ouch. I let go.

I went to the bathroom to regain some sense of dignity. When I came back, he decided he wanted me. He placed his hand on my thigh. He asked me to come home with him. I said no. He said, "You like trouble". I said, "I am trouble". He said, "Prove it". I said, "I don't have to prove anything". He said, "Show it". I said, "I don't gotta show anything".

I started dancing. That gave him a semi which he had no shame in adjusting in front of everyone.

We talked for a bit at the bar where he let a fart go that smelled really bad. He owned up to it.

I danced some more and he told me I was sexy. He also told me that he watched me sing last week and he could tell how sexy I was. And that I'm well proportioned. Hmmm.

I told him I had to leave. He gave me a hug, and then made out with my face. It was nice having a man kiss me. I did wish it was the drummer though.

Kissing a man with a beard was awesome.

But I came home alone. Part of it is knowing I'd get him here and he'd pass out cold. And the other part is that I haven't waxed in about 2 months.

That saved my chastity, for tonight at least. I'll go back next week and see if he even remembers my name.

Metamorphosis

When I was married, I had a relationship status line that proudly boasted "MARRIED" on my Facebook profile.

When I threw out my husband, my relationship status changed to "IT'S COMPLICATED".

When he signed the separation agreement and moved all his shit out, my relationship status changed to "SINGLE". And after that, every time I logged into Facebook, "SINGLE" would scream in my face. That got me really mad and so I took it off my profile all together.

And in the two years since, I've watched other friends relationship statuses (stati? statii??) change from "SINGLE" to "IN A RELATIONSHIP", to "ENGAGED" and eventually to "MARRIED". I haven't seen any of them change back the way mine did.

I really, really, REALLY want to put my status up there again. I'm not afraid to say that I'm totally jealous of all my girlfriends who have been able to go through Relationship Status Metamorphosis. I want to be able to put it out there and show the world that yes, someone loves me too!

I'm sad that my status is still non existent. I'm not even qualified to call myself single, because to me, single means out there and dating and having an awesome time. Which I am not, not and definitely NOT.

I need a new status category: ALONE.

Chapel of Ugh

I'm prepping for an audition today. It's for a 60's type girl group, a la The Supremes. The audition song is "Chapel of Love" by The Dixie Cups. (Why did all 60's girl groups have such barf-tastic names?)

I've been singing this song over and over and over for the last hour and I'm ready to scratch my eyes out.

I remember that was the song going through my head the day I got married. And I actually did get married in a little chapel, in Las Vegas. It really was the happiest day of my life. The sky was blue, the birds were singing, and all that other nonsense you see and hear when you're retardedly in love.

I hope I don't barf all over my shoes at the audition. This song is really starting to make me nauseous.

Reinforcement

I went out last night with my friend and her husband for a mutual friend's 30th birthday bash. I brought along two single gal pals as the Birthday Boy is single, and the word was he'd be bringing a bunch of his single friends.

I arrived with the Married Couple and greeted the BB. BB introduced me to a few of his single guy pals. My single gal pals arrived about half an hour later and they greeted the BB and the gaggle of guys.

I tried talking to a few of the dudes, but they just weren't reciprocating. So I hung and danced with the Married Couple. I had a good time up until the strap on my purse broke. Then it was just awkward trying to hold my purse and wave-my-hands-up-in-the-air-like-I-just-didn't-care.

Single Gal #1 ended up making out with BB for the entire night. Single Gal #2 ended up making out with a friend of BB.

So there's proof again that I repel men into the arms of my girlfriends. Good thing I'm on a break from dating otherwise my feelings would have been hurt.

The Answer

For years I (and others) have been asking why men don't find me attractive. And not just that, but the fact that I'm invisible to them when I'm out at bars and clubs.

Well today I finally got my answer, from the Goddess herself, Oprah.

Friday's episode was all about sex. One of the topics covered was the unconscious attraction between men and women. These unconscious attractions are dependent on the scents we emit. Women are particularly attractive to men during during ovulation because we emit copulins. When a man catches a whiff of a girl's copulins, she suddenly becomes more attractive to him.

There was a study done which had a group of men inhale undetectable amounts of copulins while looking at pictures of women. They were asked to rate how attractive the women were. It was shown that while inhaling the copulins, the men lost all ability to truly rate the attractiveness of the women, because they suddenly were all attractive!

This is what Oprah calls an "ah ha moment"!

I haven't ovulated in 10 years because I've been on the pill. Boys don't like me because they can't smell me.

I'll probably be going off the pill in 3 months anyway as my medical benefits will cease at the end of my severance period.

Oh the irony.

Enough Already

That is it. For real. I'm DONE.

I reopened my PoF account last week. A guy messaged me a few days ago. We made a coffee date for tonight. I emailed him the address and nearest intersection, just to be clear. He messaged me this morning, confirming for tonight at 7pm.

At 7:20pm I was still sitting there alone.

JESUS H. CHRIST.

I just cannot take any more rejection.

So that's it. I'm finished for now. Alone I shall travel through this unholy hell we call life.

Drunken Cupid

I went out on Friday with my new BFF and drank a truck load of wine. (What else is new really?)

Saturday morning I had to get up early for a baptism. As I usually do when I wake up, I checked my email. I was quite hung over (read: still drunk) and through my bleary eyes, I saw a few emails in my box from OKCupid.com

WTF? I don't recall ever signing up for OKCupid. Very confused, I clicked on one of the emails. "You've got a message waiting! Click here!"

Normally I would think a message like that was junk mail, however the message referred to me as Paprika. No junk mail is that smart, so I clicked on the link and I was whisked away to OKCupid.

Apparently I had a profile there. Which I signed up for the night before. I went through the whole process of putting together a profile and uploading a picture. I have NO recollection of any of it! Methinks that's called a blackout.

Until today, I couldn't figure out how the hell I even knew about OKCupid. I was checking Pink Collar's blog and she referenced OKCupid in one of her posts. In my drunken stupor, I probably made the decision to sign up.

I really need to install a breathalyzer control on the power button for my computer.

For Everyone Else

I'm great at hooking people up.

Not so great at hooking up myself.

I ask my friends for help, and in a passive agressive way, they refuse.

I must really be awful.

*hic*

Six Words

JT and I hung out for pretty much the whole day yesterday. We attended a taping of "The Hour" and then stuffed our faces with sushi at Hosu. I gotta say, hands down, Hosu has the best sushi in the city.

After putting away our chopsticks, we took a walk over to the gigantic Chapters store that resides at the corner of Richmond St. & John St. JT and I are huge book lovers so we were in there for quite a while.

JT came across this little book sitting next to a book I had picked up. The book she discovered was called "Six-Word Memoirs on Love & Heartbreak".

I put down Obama's Inauguration and picked up Six Words. The first page I randomly flipped to read "Married by Elvis. Divorced by Friday."

Oh wow did that ever hit close to home.

For the next few minutes, JT and I read aloud the words that moved us. And a few minutes after that JT had purchased several copies of the book, one of which was gifted to moi.

We sat in Second Cup after that, each reading our copy of the book. And as we sat there reading and sipping our vanilla bean lattes, JT's phone rang. It was her ex-husband. And he had six words for her.

"We are just signing the papers."

JT has been held hostage by her ex for the last 2 years. After they split she moved out, he stayed in the marital home. The agreement was she'd sign over the title to him, as long as he secured financing to take over the entire mortgage. She signed, he lost his job but neglected to tell JT that minor detail. JT started getting phone calls from the bank wondering where the mortgage payments were. Her ex assured her he'd take care of it. A year and half of broken promises later, JT retained counsel and the ex was forced to do the right thing and sell the house.

That phone call was him informing her that the house was indeed sold.

Cue the Hallelujah chorus!

We high-fived, we shook, we shimmied. We went for drinks. I watched JT grin ear to ear. I was so happy to have been there for that moment. I took pictures! It was fantastic!!

We parted ways - she off to tell her boyfriend the good news in person, me off to my couch where I've been falling asleep to the TV over the last several weeks.

I had a dream last night about my ex husband. We were in Mexico. I think we'd arrived there separately. And when we saw each other, we fell in love all over again. He was kind and nice and gentle. I could tell that time had passed and he had healed. We laughed. We embraced. We made love. I told him how much I missed him and how I'd never stopped loving him.

And when I woke up this morning, confusion set in for those first moments of consciousness. And then six words came to my mind.

"In my dreams, you are perfect."

JT or UT

My DT and I promised each other that only one of us would have a crisis at a time. The overlapping of our divorces was not the ideal situation.

Well that promise has fallen all to shit.

I lost my job today. DT is also in a current state of unemployment.

DT shall hence be known as JT. And I ain't talking Justin Timberlake. She is now my Jobless Twin. Or UT - Unemployment Twin. I haven't decided which moniker sounds better.

Either way, we're both going through the same shit together, again.

Sheesh.

I Must Be Hideous

Just got home from ChefGeoff's place. I brought over a bottle of wine and we ordered in. I didn't know this, but he's deathly allergic to wine, so I drank the whole damn bottle myself. He drank some rye & ginger.

I flirted. I laughed at his jokes. I asked him all sorts of questions about stuff that mattered to him. I snuggled up against him while we watched 2 episodes of Friends, the Star Wars episode of Family Guy, and an episode (probably the pilot) of Married, With Children.

And in return? I got a walk to the subway and a kiss on the cheek.

I must be the most hideous creature to ever exist on the planet.

10 months until I get impregnated by my donor. That's as close as I'll ever get to a loving relationship.

Vomit

I just finished lunch with Mike. And I don't know why, but I feel like puking. He makes me want to puke. Puke! PUKE!

It could be the Mozza burger I scarfed down, or it could be him. I don't know if it's a repulsive reaction, or a reaction much like on South Park when Stan really likes Wendy to the point that he vomits.

I spent most of the lunch ranting about my crazy ex husband, who's insanity has resurfaced over the last week. And Mike sat there and listened to every last word. At appropriate times he would nod, or shake his head, or make an noise of understanding. And I just kept going and going and going...

To and from the food court, he held my hand. He gave me kisses upon arrival and departure. AND I WANTED TO PUKE.

When I got back to the office, I went to the ladies room to wash my hands and face so I could get rid of his scent. BECAUSE IT MAKES ME WANT TO PUKE.

If this is my reaction to a nice guy, then there's really no hope for me. I'm better off alone rather than nauseous.

Panic

Without fail, for the last 9 days, Mike has phoned/emailed/texted/Facebooked. WITHOUT FAIL. (Did I mention he hasn't missed a single day?)

I think the Universe has sent him to remind me what it's like when a guy is really into me. And yes, I've read the book. I've even bought the book twice. The first copy was lent out and was never returned. The second copy is currently with my cousin, but I know where she lives so I can get it back at some point.

At any rate, the Universe did not send me the antidote to the PANIC I've been feeling over said 9 days. And there's nothing in "He's Just Not That Into You" that addresses this situation.

It's silly for me to be PANICking. He likes me. This I am sure of. So why the PANIC?!

Perhaps it's because I know he's leaving, which by the way, has been bumped up from April 1st to March 23rd. Perhaps it's because I'm nuts. Perhaps it's because I human.

He called me tonight and I didn't answer the phone. PANIC.

He left a voice mail I have yet to check. PANIC.

He's taking me out for lunch tomorrow. PANIC.

I must be one of "those people", who's only happy when it rains.

Another Mike

I went out on Friday night with two of my friends, Red & KP to celebrate KP's birthday. We ended up hitting the ultimate dive of a bar for karaoke. The host called the show "Oki Doki Karaoke". Totally made me laugh!

There was a boy there who fit the bill of what I like - tall, thin, blue eyes and crazy tattoos all down both arms.

I was already a bottle of wine into lala land when we arrived, and it took about 4 more rum & cokes to gather the nerve to convince Red to approach the tattooed cutie. Remember folks, I have ZERO self confidence. It is much easier to get turned down via an intermediary rather than straight to my drunken face.

As luck would have it, the cutie agreed to Red's proposal that he come hang with us. Turns out his name is Mike (what is it with that name lately?) and he was just so sweet and adorable. It also turns out that Mike will be moving to Saskatoon come April 1st. Can't win 'em all eh?

By the end of the night, Mike had asked me for my number. Hurrah! I gave him one of my snazzy new business cards (the same one as I gave to Firkin Mike), and in exchange, I got a sweet little kiss goodnight.

When I finally awoke yesterday morning, from my wine & rum riddled coma, I flipped on my computer to find an email from him saying it was nice to meet me. I also discovered a friend request on Facebook. How very nice!

I know this will go absolutely no where, but it's nice to have someone pay me some attention.

Missing My Mom

Twenty-five years ago today, my mother passed away from breast cancer.

This was her favourite song, especially towards the end.

I love you Mom. One day we will be together again.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Y2YOGfBFAbs

Through the Looking Glass

I have to say, tonight is not what I expected it would turn out to be.

Boy asked me out for drinks with his best bud from elementary school. We'll call her Crack Lady, because she was royally FUCKED off one glass of wine. That leads me to believe she must have done CRACK before hand.

At any rate, the pub we end up at is where Woman happens to be.

At first, I'm completely uncomfortable, as per usual when I happen to be sitting across from her. But by the end of the night, we became BFFs.

She still has no clue about me & Boy. She talked to me about him, the way one would talk when looking for comfort or advice.

And the fucking sad thing is she sounded exactly like me.

Instead of running away, I faced it head on. And as much as I was talking to her, I was really talking to me.

I told us that we deserve better. I told us we are amazing, strong, intelligent, HOT women. I told us it's better to be alone than miserable dealing with Boy's retarded shit. I told us that relationships are work, but not insanely fucking crazy awful work. I told us that it's okay that Boy doesn't want a relationship, but he's a fucktard and doesn't deserve someone as awesome as us.

And after all of that, she managed to smash a glass of wine which ended up in my lap, glass shards and all. And she broke up with Boy over email.

The irony is not lost on me folks.

Who knows, maybe we were meant to be brought together this way, to light the path to our proper destinies. Or maybe it was just to be miserable with company. Either way, it was a positive experience (minus the red wine spillage).

I'm going to get a McChicken now, to soak up all the red wine.

Fin.

Lava is allowing users to see who's looked at their profile for free this Vday weekend. So I clicked on "who's viewed me" and started scrolling. Maybe ignorance is truly bliss because I discovered the following:

- The age of the youngest man to look at me was 19, the oldest 63. Seriously, 63? My father is 73. That just makes me feel dirty.

- All of the guys I've smiled at who viewed my profile did not smile back.

- Two women checked out my profile, but didn't smile at me. WTF? I am unappealing to both sexes.

- And this guy:


I was in a band of his. He is the biggest asshole that has ever walked the planet, hence the reason I quit his band. I guess his wife finally figured out what an asshole he is, hence the reason he's on Lava.
After seeing that, I felt even more gross than knowing a 63 year old checked me out.

And the level of disgust has turned me right off the whole internet dating thing, and dating period.

I just have to finally accept the fact that I am not meant to have a life partner. ChefGeoff has effectively disappeared. Firkin Mike never called back. Boy is back with Woman.

I'm done.

I May Just Have A Fucking Stroke

Looks like my ex-husband is now someone else's husband. Here's a particularly shiteous picture of him and his bride (who is Baby Mama #2).

And here's the close up of the evidence.

I fucking hate him. And I fucking hate Facebook.

Hallmark Day

DT came over to keep me company today. I helped her make a Vday card for her beau while we watched a Ross & Rachel marathon on TVTropolis.

It was nice to have someone here who loves me.

Thank you DT. ♥

Firkin Mike

He just called me on my cell. I cannot believe this guy is actually trying to hook up with me. Well, come to think of it, he probably thinks I'm easy seeing as when we met, I was busy making out with Boy.

I told him to call me tomorrow. Let's see how crazy this guy really is.

Birthday Fun

I was out last night getting wrecked with my best friend Blondie. We hit a local Niagara pub for karaoke where I drank rum & coke all night. (At a fraction of what it would have cost up in the Tdot, I might add.)

There were a lot of cute (young) guys there. But none of them seemed to notice me - even after I rocked the mic with Pink's "So What?" Blondie and I were dancing later and this one guy marched right across the pub towards me, locking eyes, and then at the last minute, spun right around and headed back to his table. I laughed out loud at that. It's like he thought I was cute from across the bar, and as he got closer, realized I was probably about 10 years older than he.

We got back to Blondie's place around 3am were I unceremoniously passed out cold on her couch. I woke up around 8:30am and drove over to my Dad's place.

My brother and Dad woke up around 11:30am and gave me my birthday present - Ugly Betty Season 1 and Lady Gaga's album "The Fame". My little bro wanted to take me out to lunch but I insisted we just order pizza and hang out.

I threw on a toque and my coat over my PJs and headed out with brother in tow to the Fort Erie Mall to pick up some pizza.

Back in the day, my brothers, friends and I would spend hours at the Mall. Even though there really wasn't much, it was our after school and weekend playground. Gino's Pizza has been in that mall ever since I can remember, and at one point after I graduated from university, my boyfriend at the time had a job delivering pizzas for Gino's.

Walking in there brought back those memories, which I honestly had pretty much forgotten about. I remembered the nights I'd go meet up with the BF and wait for his shift to be over. We'd bring home stacks of unsold slices, which ended up being breakfast, lunch and dinner for the next few days.

My brother and I placed an order for the walk-in special, which came out to a whopping $5.65. The clerk told us it would be about 10 minutes, so we decided to walk around the Mall.

It's pretty much deserted now. The Walmart down the street effectively put the whole Mall out of business. The only things left aside from Gino's is a Sears Outlet (where you pick up items you order from the catalogue), a no-name discount clothing store, a barber shop (the same one!) and Zellers.

We went to Zellers where I immediately jumped onto a floor model elliptical machine. I can only imagine how ridiculous I looked with my red coat, green toque and pyjama pants, madly pumping away.

After my 2 minute work out, we shuffled back to Gino's, grabbed the pizza, drove through Timmy's and headed back to the house.

We jammed that pizza into our heads as fast as we could and played a few rounds of Rock Band before I had to leave to make my way back up to the Tdot for the Kevin Smith Film Fest. I bought a pass as a birthday present to myself. The films were fantastic and of course Kevin Smith was damn hiliarious during his Q&A.

I'm glad to say I didn't feel lonely at all on this birthday. And I spent it exactly the way I wanted to.