WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON??

Alright people,

It's been a long time and I have a whole lot of crazy that's recently been bottled up.   To add fuel to that fire,  I'm two glasses of red wine in and I'm trapped at home because of a snow storm, instead of at a surprise birthday party for a friend and I'm feeling sorry for myself.

Long sigh....... Where to start....  For the last couple of weeks I've been submerging myself in the wonderful world of online dating yet again.  The holidays are approaching and I am feeling desperate and extra alone as I often do at this time of year.  Add to that, a slue of holiday events designed for couples, and the insecurity just mounts.  On top of that, a friend, who is the same age as me and, has long been on the single boat with me, has just met a wonderful guy and things are going well.  I am very happy for her, god knows she's had her fill of idiots.  Nevertheless, I find myself, ironically, alone at being alone, and it has pushed the panic button into nuclear meltdown mode.

So I started messaging a few people which quickly dwindled to two people, neither of which was ideal.  The first is a gentlemen close to my age who has a decent job and we seem to have common interest.  The down side is he is random with his messages, maybe 2-3 days before he responds, which leads me to believe is he not really that interested in anything real.  He made no attempt to ask me out or ask for my phone number, and when I finally did give him my cell so we could text, he simply said "sure I'll text you" and still there is no text.  If you really aren't that into it, don't string someone along.  Nobody wants to have their time wasted.

Which leads me to gentleman number two, or as I am now calling him, the worst date I ever had.  It was a gamble and I knew that going in.  He is a 24 year old smoker.  I was not crazy about the large age difference, and I was even less crazy about the smoking.  I figured it was worth a date, you never know.  It's like trying on a shirt at the store that you think is not your style and you'd never wear, but you try it anyway just to see.  Sometimes the shirt turns out to be unexpectedly perfect.  Other times you put it on and it turns out to be a straightjacket that's made out of steel wool.   As you can imagine from the tone of this blog, the latter was the result of my "outside the box" dating.

It never ceases to amaze me how people can be so seemingly normal online.  They can message back and forth and say the right things to make them seem so totally and utterly average, with an average job, average lifestyle and interests that compliment yours.  Then you meet them and its as though the person you've been talking too has been abducted and replaced by some clone from opposite world!  My 24 year old smoker turned out to be practically homeless.  I am not exaggerating.  He lives in boarding house with 6-8 other men at any given time.  He spent the majority of the date asking me how he could get a job with the company I work for and hoping he could use me as an in!  He actually couldn't even afford to buy a coffee, and I can only assume by his bodily odours, that the shower and soap situation at the boarding house was non-existent.  Not to mention his total and utter lack of social skills.

Now look it, don't get all high and mighty that I am picking on someone who is less fortunate them me. I didn't grow up a millionaire, my family had some major trials to over come when my dad lost his job and we had to rely on my mom's income while my dad went back to school.  These were not easy times and I have a great deal of sympathy for those who are struggling, especially in these difficult times.  I am grateful for what I have and because I have it I donate a lot of my time and my money to helping those who are in need.

The issue here is the dishonesty this person displayed blatantly in our messages back and forth.  So much so that I drove nearly an hour to meet him only to discover he had ulterior motives and totally misrepresented himself.  As if the date wasn't bad enough, when I got home he tried to message me again as though he thought there was nothing wrong with how things went.  When I politely told him that I wished him the best of luck with his career and to "take care."  He responded with "Take care, are you trying to say something by that?"  Well, no shit Sherlock!!!  Please re-evaluate your behaviour!

Now, as if that's not bad enough, tonight I got home to find a message waiting for me from a new guy.  I guy I had seen before and who, once again, seemed nice and normal and possibly a decent potential.  It quickly went of the rails when it became clear he was looking for someone to dominate him in a sexual manner.  There is nothing, and I mean NOTHING, in my profile to suggest that I am looking to rein-act any scenes from 50 Shades of Grey in reversed role.  

It frightens me to no end that these are the guys I keep meeting.  Is it a reflection of me? Do I put out some kind of crazy signal, like the bat signal?  Is it just some giant test that I have to go through in order to meet the right person? Or worse, is this all that's left?

I don't know the answer, and I'm not sure how much longer I can keep looking for it.  Here is to hoping that 2013 will bring with it a cleansing of the crazies.

By the way, Rob Ford is a dirt bag idiot and should never have been elected mayor.  Sorry, I'm watching the news and I'm all fired up now...

Cheers,

DID YOU HEAR THE ONE ABOUT THE CHICKEN CROSSING THE ROAD?

Well it has been a few days, as I predicted, since my last post.   It's been a somewhat eventful few days, and yet in spite of that, I find myself in a perplexing situation with very little to say.  It's not a situation I am accustomed to as many who know me would attest.

Saturday I attended a raw food workshop then hustled down the road to make it home in time to drop of food, grab a change of clothes and hurtle down the highway to the work Christmas party, new dress in tow.  The party was great, and I learned that dresses with sequins on them can cause armpit sequin-rash when dancing.

Last night I awoke in the onslaught of the man cold, my chest constricted, head pounding and nasal passages all but blocked.  This afternoon I am feeling that I am over the worst of it, and as I suspected, it was not the death sentence I was lead to believe.  Nevertheless, I could have done without it.  I missed my kick-boxing class last night and my trainer session at the gym tonight because of it.  If you're sick, just stay home people!  It's nice to share with your co-workers, but some things should be kept to ourselves.

I am proud to report that 98% of my Christmas shopping is done and 60% of the cookie dough/pastry has been made and frozen.  Things are seriously looking up for the Christmas rush.

You see, extremely unentertaining.  I doubt this blog was even necessary, but I wanted to post something so you knew I was still alive, and had not totally succumb to the man cold after all.

Here's hoping a more interesting calamity is soon to come may way.

FYI, the lemon cookies one the cookie poll and once I'm well enough to not be contagious, they will be the next cookie dough to be made, and I promise, I will post pictures and a few recipes.

Cheers,

THE MAN COLD

It is November, the beginning of the season of illness.  So far the flu has circulated the office and now the cold is slowly making its way through too.  I have been praying to the health and wellness gods to dodge that bullet, what with the intensely busy weekend I have coming up, I genuinely can not afford to be ill.  Sadly, Tuesday morning I awoke with a tickle in my throat and mildly stuffy sinuses.  This, I have been assured, is only the beginning.  Each morning has gotten progressively worse until tonight, when I feel like I could stick my toothbrush down my throat and scratch, it's so itchy.  Oh won't I be a site to see on Saturday at the Christmas party in my new black cocktail dress and heals with runny eyes, and a nose to match.  At least I can hope for sexy scratchy voice between fits of coughing.

My only hope is that it really isn't all that bad.  You see so far the only people I know who have survived the cold are men.   For many years now my friends and I have noted how the Man Cold is much more severe then the cold that anyone else gets.  Even as the very same virus circulates through the house, somehow when the men get it, it takes on new strength.  It becomes akin to the black plague in combination with small pox.  No one in the history of the world has ever suffered as deeply as the man under the influence of the Man Cold.  Now I'm an equal opportunist, and I can assure you that this phenomenon is not limited to the cold.  It stretches from the man flu, to the man fever, to the man headache.  It even reaches as far into the psyche as the man paper cut.  No one will ever know the agony that each of these inflictions can affect on a man.

Well that's not entirely true is it though?  I mean there is a silent victim here, and that is the women who live with the infirm or wounded.  Suddenly, these once invincible Herculean men (in their own minds) become weak and snively and act as though they've reverted into 5 year old children crying for their blankey.  Everything hurts, they can't sleep, no one understands them.  It's truly a remarkable display of pathos.

So now I sit on my couch, drinking hot water with lemon and honey to ease the scratchiness in my throat, reflecting on the very people who are forewarning me of the upcoming agony I am assured I'll experience.  The very people, who had they stayed at home and not infected everyone, and who surely claim this is the bubonic plague reincarnate.  Perhaps it won't be so bad after all...

Cheers!

BAH BAH CAMO SHEEP?

Heres a little something funny I encountered at the fair and drafted last week.  I am pressed for time, but since this was sitting in my drafts I thought I'd share it for tonight's blog.

Sheep, what will they think of next...  I am afraid he's not fooling anyone with that outfit.

One other things, please vote for the cookie poll.  It only takes a second and it's valuable information.  One lucky friend will receive a package of assorted cookies, including the most popular cookie in the poll.

Thanks!

GOING ONCE, GOING TWICE, SOLD!

Do you ever have one of those grown up moments, a stark reminder that you are now an adult who is concerned with adult things?  Yesterday I was in line at the Canada Post outlet in the Shoppers Drug-mart, shipping back my broken PVR to Bell Canada (see earlier posts re technical unsupport for details) when I noticed that the Royal toilet paper was on sale.  $4.99 for a 12 pack of TP, and me without my wallet!  The first thing that came to mind when I looked over at the sign was "man, that's a steal."  When I went back to work I shared my good fortune with my co-workers.  We were all in agreement, $4.99 was an excellent bargain for Royal toilet paper.

I reflected on this experience tonight on my way to Walmart, to buy the scrubbing bubbles shower cleaner that I swear by.  It occurred to me how odd it was that this is what my life has come too.  Sales on toilet paper illicit raised eyebrows of fascination and wonder at my good luck.  How driving across town to get the shower cleaner I like is just a fact of life.  When I was 16 I never gave a second thought about the going cost of house hold cleaner/supplies.  Hell, when I was 21 I still didn't give a hoot!  I had other priorities.  I had dreams and passions and I believed I could change the world, or I believed that the world would change for me if I asked, pretty please??  My generation was going to save the whales, bring world peace, end oil pollution in the oceans all the while handing out wads of cash to everyone in our free and equal society.  We were going to use peaceful protest to change the world.  We'd write strongly worded letters to our political leaders & our media, and if that wasn't enough we'd be the political leaders and own the media.  Now, if there's a sale on Tide laundry detergent, it's enough to make my heart skip a beat.

So what happened?  Did the world beat that passion out of me?  Have a I actually become so jaded that it takes a bargain to breathe some life back into me?  I guess the reality of it is that a lot of our youthful ideals, while noble at heart, were far to big to have been accomplished in one generation.  I still believe we can get there (maybe not to the handing out wads of cash bit unfortunately).  Probably I could be doing more to help, though I have been known to write a letter or two to various politicians & media outlets.   I suppose our priorities change as we get older, and we realize that the world will not change for us just simply because we expect it to.  So we do what we can to make our lives, and the lives of those around us better, by purchasing satiny soft TP at a discount price.  

Still, I wish I could channel some of that youthful passion and optimism somedays, even if it was merely focussed on housework...  

Cheers,

DECK THE HALLS...

It's here people, the holiday season is upon us.  On Saturday I sealed up my last free weekend from now until Christmas with another event (an art show being put on by a friend, who if she had a blog for her art I could plug here).  With that last nail in the weekend coffin, I find myself on the precipice of holiday insanity.  I took advantage of the nice weather this weekend and put my Christmas decorations out (will not be plugging lights in until closer to Dec 1) and I also started my Christmas shopping.

The largest of the endeavours is looming over head.  For some years now I have felt an uncontrollable urge to bake at this time of year.  It's like a built in baking necessity mode that I can't shut off.  Last year's baking extravaganza included 4 doz butter tarts, 3 doz shortbread cookes, 3 doz molasses cookies, 4 doz chocolate chip cookies, 3 doz Caramilk chocolate cheese cake squares, 3 doz sugar cookies & 2 doz banana chocolate chip muffins.  Its an insane amount of baking, but I just can't stop myself.  Now, with every Saturday ahead of me booked for the foreseeable, I find myself starting to plan for the inevitable mountain of baking that lies ahead of me.  I have so far established the list for this years baking, which differs only slightly from last years, in that, in place of the Caramilk chocolate cheese cake squares, I'll be making caramel apple cheesecake squares.   Also there may be a change up in the sugar cookies as well.   With that in mind, the baking will begin this Sunday, or rather the preparation of cookie dough and pastry for butter tarts.

What always amazes me, about myself, this time of year, is how I manage to get it all done.  The list of baking is a feat in itself, but there's still parties to attend, interior decorations to erect, cards to be written, gifts to be bought, gifts to be wrapped, gifts to be delivered.... It's a whirl wind of activity.  Ordinarily when I come home at the end of the day, I make lunch, make dinner, do the dishes (if it's a good night) go to the gym, and then head for the couch for some r&r before its time to get up and do it all over again.  Somehow at this time of year, I channel an energy level I never knew I had.   I chalk a lot of it up to the "all Christmas tunes, all the time" radio station.  It really puts the Christmas magic into everything I do.  I love that Mariah Carey song "All I want for Christmas is You."  I swear, it makes the butter tarts taste better.  If you cook angry, your food tastes angry, cook festive and you'll have a festive delicious treat tray.

So I will apologize in advance.  Because of all this holiday hullabaloo, I'm afraid something will end up taking a back seat, and most likely it will be this blog.  It's already started, as you've probably noticed. As a symbol of good faith, I promise to post some of my favourite, and most popular, recipes.  I will also post the various shenanigans that will inevitably ensue in the process of getting ready for the festive season.

Cheers,

WHAT AM I WEARING?

Here it is, the 8th of November, and already Christmas paraphernalia is popping up left right and centre. We are barely out of the clutches of candy riddled halloween, and now at every corner there are cookie recipes, and best pies ever books, and make a turkey that would convert even the most devout vegetarian magazine covers.  The ornaments and decorations are in full swing, including the festive coffee cups at both Tim Horton's and Starbucks.  Yes the season is truly bearing down on us like a freight train with no brakes.

Over the last week I've been bracing for the holiday throng.  I have three formal Christmas functions to attend, and three informal Christmas functions to attend.  All of this makes for busy times ahead, but more alarmingly, for the formal parties, I have nothing to wear.  Now ordinarily when I utter those words its more of an abstract statement.  I often do have something to wear, but have pooh-poohed all of the realistic options in favour of a shopping spree.  This time, however, is quite the opposite.  I legitimately do not own a thing to wear to a formal winter event.  I have many a dress for summer formal wear, but they will not suffice for this time of year.  I also have some dress pants upstairs in my closet, all of which are now several sizes too big, and, I fear, farm more suited to a job interview.  So here I find myself on quest for the dress 2012, the sequel to quest for the dress 2011 which revolved around a summer wedding and ended after weeks of fruitlessly searching high and low for something that didn't make me look like I was wearing a sack of potatoes.  I have been out once so far in QFTD 2012, and shockingly, found nothing.  Well, that's not entirely true.  I found one stunning dress that I very nearly fell in love with until I took it off and read the tag.  $230 for the dress alone, pre taxation, and I'd still need a pair of shoes to go with it.  That was way to steep for my budget of $150 all in.  I spent some time on the trusted Sears website and I have found a handful of dresses that may not be hideous.  Unfortunately, the two front runners are on back order and arrive one full week after my first function.  This weekend I am planning a pilgrimage to the Square One Mall in Mississauga in hopes of finding a, cost friendly but non-moo moo like, dress and shoes to match (I legitimately have no shoes either, everything I own for dress up is summer oriented).

I am dreading dress shopping.  There's never a lower point in ones self esteem then when you're standing face to face with your own reflection while wearing a dress that, in spite of how generous it looked on the hanger, makes you look as though you've encased yourself in sausage wrap.  It's as though the whole store is conspiring against you, the lightening makes your skin look sickly, the mirror has somehow added 40lbs, even your own clothes, that you swore looked appropriate when you left the house, begin to turn on you.  Your shirt gets all frumpy from being taken on and off at each shop you venture, hopefully into, your pants seem to get tighter and tighter making it look as though you're smuggling the big top around your thighs.   You leave the mall, dejected and debating about getting a mullet, you couldn't possibly look any worse! It's a down right disturbing time.

So I'm putting on a brave face, bolstering my self confidence, and trying to pretend all those food indiscretions at the fair the last few days didn't happen.  I'm hoping for the best, but preparing for the worst and maybe I'll end up somewhere in the middle at pleasantly surprised.

Cheers,