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.