No Filter

I am sarcastic. I have a strange sense of humor. My mind is usually in the gutter. I usually try to control this at work, but once I start feeling comfortable with people, this “real” side of me comes out. And quite often, people are surprised.

This nice, sweet, innocent girl with the wide-eyed look and contagious laugh is really a dirtbag 17-year-old boy?

Sadly, yes. It’s an interesting realization when it happens. I usually end up feeling badly about something I said and then wondering if I'd offended someone. I’m never rude, but perhaps... inappropriate? Yes, I guess you could call it that.

It’s a fine line between the attitude that I’m currently carrying: this is me. Take it or leave it. If you like me for me, awesome. If you’re easily offended, this isn’t going to work. I don’t always have a “filter.” Things fall out of my mouth all the time; sometimes, I wish I could take back. I make a comment to someone that I shouldn’t have made. My questions can be too intrusive.

Or maybe this (not the fact that I know sports trivia) is the reason I’m in this perpetually misunderstood state. Sigh.

J is for ... Jumping Jack-asses!

For the MOST part, I’m a fairly patient person. I tend to give people the benefit of the doubt when they act like morons. But today? Notsomuch.

One of my biggest pet peeves is what you might call Grocery Store Check-Out Line Etiquette. If I’m in line and I see someone come up behind me with just a few things and I have four hundred things, I always offer to let them ago ahead of me. It’s a nice thing to do. I don’t start unloading my stuff until they are done unloading theirs.

Today, however, I was at the grocery store doing one of my marathon shopping trips. I was out of everything and anything, and I had to restock quite desperately. My cart was quite literally spilling over.

I started to unload my cart onto the conveyor belt thingy. The cashier person began scanning my items. I’m not 1/4 way into my cart, and the man who is behind me in line puts up the divider, starts unloading his maybe - six, maybe seven - things, crosses his arms and starts to look pissed.

Now, I still have a lot to unload and really really need the space he just took. I start to mention this to him, that maybe he could have waited or hold his stuff back a little - and he turns to leaves his items and heads to some aisle to retrieve maybe, oh I don’t know, some Good Manners (??).

While he’s gone, I move his stuff back and keep unloading.

He comes back shortly, and he gets mad that I did this. Apparently, they were out of good Manners.

I. Have. No. Space.

I’m stacking things on top of other things trying to get my stuff unloaded.

Unhappy.

All the while, I’m trying to be nice. I step over to help load my bags into the cart. He pushes my cart so far ahead now that I can’t get back to the cashier's where I need to sign my name for the bill. His arms are crossed. The man is pissed and impatient.

And finally, I joined him there and said:

“Hey, you. Excuse me, but I can see you are REALLY INTERESTED in my grocery shopping check-out experience. And since you seem to be so interested, maybe you want to go ahead and swipe your card and pay for my stuff too? Because I can’t get back to it if you’re standing there. Or, you know, you could just move back and off my tail. Finally.”

And he did.

And I was happy.

Idiot. Idiot. Idiot.

SPACE, people. SPACE. Are we really in that much of a hurry?

What do I love?

* Planning for my trip to Bangkok to surprise a friend for his birthday.
* On a related note, LOVE the lower prices for airfares.
* Falling madly deeply passionately totally in love...with a new CD!
* Paying all my bills and having a little extra left over. Doesn't happen all
that often but when it does? SWEET!
* Getting an unexpected refund check in the mail
* Wedding invitations in the mail (Receiving them, not sending them)
* Sleeping in
* Making the perfect grilled cheese sandwich
* Lays Kettle Potato chips. Perfectly crisp. Perfectly thin. Perfectly salty.
* Sleeping in my own bed
* Having my own agenda
* Being confident in my choices and going with my gut feeling on said choices
* Sunshiny days and rainy weekends
* Getting whatever NHL & NBA playoffs I can find on network TV
* My job...a little bit more, each and every day
* Being invited to a birthday party for a friend whom I've not seen in ages

So, what do you love in your life?

Tell the truth!

1. If your boss says, “I would like to talk to you about your internet usage” what would your first reaction be?

Oh fark.

2. If your best friend asks you “Does this make me look fat?” how do you answer?

Not sure if it makes you look fat, but it’s not very flattering.

3. What is one thing that you pay for, but resent having to do so?

Water.

4. A day is being created in honor of you. How should we celebrate it?

Listening to music, playing outdoors and taking the day off. Oh, chocolate wouldn’t hurt either!

5. What CD or Album in your music collection do you secretly enjoy, but would be embarrassed if others heard you grooving to it?

None. I don’t care if people don’t like what I listen to. Music is music. I am very objective and would hope others are too.

6. How long do you think you would last if you were a contestant on Survivor?

In what regard? Physically, I think I could do the entire thing. Socially? A few days before I kill the anorexic with big tits.

Second random thought for today.

Private blogs.

What exactly is their purpose?

I understand that sometimes a person will need to put their blog on private mode if they have a work scare or a holy-shit-someone-I-know-in-real-life-found-my-blog and now-knows-what-I-really-think-of-them scare.

What I don't understand, is why people take up a piece of space on the blogosphere so that only the "privileged" few can read their written diarrhea. We all know that the reason people have blogs is to become the next Dooce (seriously, who wouldn't want to earn an income by just writing about your day-to-day life no matter how mundane it may be?), so I don't understand how a private blog would get you noticed. Because,well, it wouldn't get you noticed, would it?

And if you didn't care either way about being a blogowhore and you've only given your url to say three to five people, why don't you just write mass emails instead? Because that's what a private blog would be, right? An endless stream of mass emails that are being masked as a having a tiny corner of internet real estate?

Thought of the day.

The only thing more endearing than seeing a man with a baby ...




















... is seeing a man with a pooch.















And the second scenario is always the winner because at least there's a slight possibility that the guy is single.

I is for the ...Innocent.

I saw this poster on the way to work this morning.

Somehow, it made me sad.

Trust

Trust: reliance on the integrity, strength, ability, surety, etc., of a person or thing; confidence.

You know that exercise they use in team building exercises and support meetings, the one where you fall back and the others are supposed to catch you? I have never been good at that exercise. Letting go, falling blindly into a crowd strangers makes me uncomfortable.

Trust, especially in the realm of relationships, has always been a difficult issue for me. There was a time when I gave my trust freely. Now, you have to earn my trust. My past holds too many heartaches and broken promises to trust openly. I have learned to protect myself. The walls have been built and people are granted access in stages.

I have also learned that my lack of trust can also get me in trouble. So I have been working on a balance. I think that I am getting closer to finding the perfect amount of trust to give to someone at each stage of a relationship. However, I am still waiting for that time when I can close my eyes and fall and not worry about crashing to the floor.

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Looking on the bright side...

The economy is in turmoil. There is war in the world, no one has cured cancer and baby polar bears are dying. I’ve developed a strange affection for “Private Practice”, my hair is a mess and if it doesn’t stop raining, I’m going to stomp on Mother Nature. These are trying times,my friends.

Sometimes though, when a Friday shows up, when I finish a good book, when my current favourite song pops up on the radio, when someone holds open a door for me, when I find $10 in my jeans pocket, when I get an unexpected cheque in the mail, I get a feeling of absolute happiness that I usually only experience after 6 mojitos and the loving touch of a wild and hot man in tight jeans. And I am almost overcome with the feeling that everything is going to be okay.

So despite the trying times (or maybe because of them), I hope you find one good thing that makes your day brighter. That one thing that makes you take stock and realize that you hold more aces than you thought had. Because we all could use something to make us happier and we can’t drink that many mojitos all the time.

Have a good week ahead!

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Fallen.

I found this while doing the kind of lazy, uninterrupted online surfing that one can only do when one has approximately 1,478 things to do on the to-do list. I was about write about how smoking hot Wolverine looks, that he probably is the main cause for global warming and tie it to the bits that I've been doing to help the environment. But in the end I thought I would say that I just liked this. Because isn’t it exactly how you feel when you fall?

I’ve always appreciated the fact that the world moves so fast and everyone is so preoccupied with their own lives that one is able to revel in the secret they have for as long as they can keep it without yelling it out for everyone to hear in such a manner you assume confetti is going to fall from the sky. The secret one holds close to ones heart of course being, “WHAT THE HELL, I LIKE A BOY!”. And as you know, such confessions from the heart are always of great consequence.

Happy Friday, everyone!

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H..is for

Hell, yeah! If you want me to think that you ARE different, you should probably try to BE different.

Self-Acceptance.

It’s taken me 17 years to fully accept this but I’m finally there. I don't want to be Meg Ryan anymore. Just to be clear, I never wanted to be the current Meg Ryan; I always had hopes of being the Meg Ryan of yesterday. You know, “When Harry Met Sally” Meg Ryan or even better “When You’ve Got Mail” Meg Ryan. When people see her in those movies, they throw around words like ‘adorable’ and ‘endearing’ and who doesn’t want to be that? Plus she was the poster girl for how quirky could be sexy. And when you are 5″3, clumsy and red lipstick looked ghoulish on you? You embrace quirky like a warm blanket on a cold night.

The thing is, Meg Ryan (or more accurately her character- yes, I do blur the lines between fantasy and reality on a regular basis. Perhaps this is why Brad Pitt isn’t returning my calls?), differ in one important area. Okay, if you count the ability to wake up with great hair, we differ in TWO areas. I will never be a girl who cuddles while sleeping. See, if you watch any Meg movie (or any movie geared towards those possessing ovaries) you will notice that the classic “couple sleep” pose is man on his back, woman splaying herself all over him, cuddled up like a koala bear clinging to a tree branch. And she’s always fast asleep, her face nuzzled in the perfectly groomed chest hair of a man who manages to pull off being sexy, funny and able to say exactly the right thing before the two hour movie is up.

I can’t do that. I need my space. It’s not that I’m anti- cuddling, I enjoy a cuddle as much as the next girl- but when it comes to sleep? I need some room. And not “you move one inch over but let’s still hold hands when we sleep” space. I need “stay on your side” sort of space. Legs can tangle, arms can drift- and I actually like the idea of them being close enough that I can feel the warmth of their body near mine but a whole body smashed up against mine while I’m working on getting some REM cycles? No, thank you. There are roughly 1,287 things a couple can do in bed (thanks to Cosmo for setting some unrealistic expectations for all future bed partners) but sleeping is one thing that I have to do alone.

I’ve been thinking about this lately and when it comes to actual dating- I’m the same way. I sleep how I love. I’m all for couple time but I’ve never understood the couples who have to do everything together. I cringe knowing that this cliche is going to leave my brain but I need space. I need time away, time alone. Maybe this is just growing out of a particular phase or maybe it’s just growing up- realizing independence isn’t a dirty word. But I need a world where I can sleep without being crushed by the weight of another human being. I’m a small person after all. I wish just one time Meg Ryan would have told a man she needed some sleeping room. That there’s a fine line between basking in the heat radiating off the one person you adore and feeling the crushing weight of their body while attempting to get sleep after practicing some moves learned in that previous issue of Cosmo.


I wish Meg would have said she could do a million things with the man she loved but sleep was something she needed to do alone. I wish she would have one time told a man that telling him to shove over to his side didn’t mean she loved him less- it meant she loved him enough to show him this side of her. I wish she would have said that it’s important to spend time apart- even in bed, because in the morning when you reach across the tangled galaxy of blankets and pillows and find someone on the other side reaching back for you, well, that’s the best feeling in the world.

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Overheard...

Girl on the phone in restroom stall next to mine: Sorry, I'm in the restroom. So how was the other night? (pause) Oh...I see... what do you mean you didn't do him? (pause) That guy was adorable! There's no excuse for that! (a longer pause, then in a subdued tone) Oh, he likes men.....