Once a cheater, always a cheater.....

If there’s one thing I hate ( and belive me, there are actually many, many things I hate, it’s when someone creates a quip or a saying that isn’t really true but gains popularity because of it’s punch or cuteness. Like “let sleeping dogs lie” Why do you have to let a sleeping dog lie? What if it’s sleeping in the street? Supposedly you are not supposed to wake alseeping dog because it might bite you but dogs are cute when they are waking up not vicious unless it’s like some rabid animal to begin with and then why are you around it anyways?

Or what about the saying “There’s plenty of fish in the sea?” So does make me some kind of ocean predator? I should dump my so-so boyfriend because there are plenty of other fish in the sea? Well what if I don’t want a guppy or a minnow? What if I have like a west coast salmon and I want to know what other salmon are in the ocean? If the news and state of the environment are telling us anything it’s that there are not that many salmon in the sea. Stick with your slightly dwarfed salmon or risk having to settle for a tadpole as your date for the next 10 Saturday nights!

I could go on and on about this. Don’t even get me started on the phrase “at the drop of a hat?” You might as well say whenever mood strikes you. Nobody really wears hats and if they drop it they are certianly in no hurry to pick it up off the ground and put it back on their head. Floors are dirty! Hats are where our hair is… See, where I’m going with this?

But the whole reason I thought to write this rant, was because I herad the phrase “once a cheater, always a cheater”, on the radio. I thought arcaic thoughts like that went out with “the woman belongs in the kitchen.” Saying something like once a cheater always a cheater assumes that people never evolve and never learn anything from their previous relationships. That’s saying every partner is essentially the same person and you are basically re-acting every relationship with someone else over and over again.

The truth is some relationships are bad. Some relationships are good. Sometimes you or your partner do something stupid or mean or inconsiderate. And sometimes you don’t. You shouldn’t be branded with a Scarlet letter just because once you cheated on your ex when you were trying to dump him but didn’t have the guts. You shouldn’t be branded as a cheater because you met someone amazing when you happened to be dating someone not so amazing.

Cheating sucks definietly. It’s cowardly and shady and ultimately dangerous for both you and your partner. But there’s ususally a reason behind cheating and comes from two people, not just one cheater who will always be a cheater.

What about the type of person who always gets cheated on my her/his partner? How come there’s no catchy saying for the pushover that lets her man two-time her all the time and pretends to live in oblivion? Once a doormat, always a doormat? Does that work here?

I’m not a cheater and I never have been and I don’t think I ever will be. I’ve definitely been cheated on. It sucks and hurts not only your morale and your self-esteem but also your ability to trust. But it’s something you get through. It’s something that defines a part of you and you bring into your future relationships whether you are the cheater or the cheatee.

I guess I just find it kind of condescending that people throw out these little single ladies catch phrases like once a cheater always a cheater or there’s plenty of fish in the sea or like whatever is the chic lit catch phrase du jour. It totally minimizes the intelligence of single people and what we can learn from relationships. Relationships are complicated and messy and can’t be understood through bumper sticker slogan or colloquiums. Life is all about relationships and if you could compartmentalize them into these weird slogans then life would be very dull and generic.

I prefer to see relationships as indefinable. Some are easy, sure; some are hard. But like snowflakes each one is different with jagged and smooth surfaces. Each one can melt away in second or grow into something more substantial.

Must Have Monday: GAP 1969 Denim

I’m not an especially big fan of the GAP. I like when their stuff goes on sale super cheap but I rarely covet anything from the GAP. The last time I was like OMG I love this stuff at the GAP was when they were shilling the chunky cable knit turtleneck sweaters of 2002.

But now I am totally under the GAP spell.

Patrick Robinson, the GAP’s creative director has outdone himself with the new line of premium denim 1969. This line brings the quality of $200 designer denim to the masses without sacrificing quality or design. When I went to try on the premium denim myself I was skeptical. I mean I am not interested in sorority or fraternity style denim. Boyfriend jeans? No thanks! Uh ripped jeans? No thanks!

But when I tried on a pair from the Long and Lean line I was smitten. I have never worn denim that was so soft! The last time I even tried on denim that came close to the smoothness and comfyness of the 1969 line was when I tried on a pair of Paper Denim &Cloth jeans. Those were soft but definitely did not have the same amount of stretch as the 1969 line.

And I love the cuts and colours. The one’s with the zippers down the sides are next on my hit list. But for now I’m rocking the light denim long and leans and feel like I am in my pjs. Then are dressy casual. Like today I am wearing them with my runners and a white button down Henley and a stripey cardigan but when I go home, I’ll put on my frye boots and my boyfriend blazer and be ready for a night of patio service and ginger mojitos.

I love my 1969 denim even though the ad is such a rip off of American Apparel.

Favourite Frenchie Friday... Marion Cotillard

There are many reasons I love Marion Cotillard. She was a massive mess as Edith Plath in La Vie En Rose. She was such a crazy mess as Edith that she won a BAFTA, a Golden Globe and an Oscar, becoming the first person to win an Academy Award for a French Language film. She was such a crazy mess that I didn’t realize that she was pretty until awards season, when she stole the show in her Jean Paul Galliano fish tail dress. It was amazing.

Not only that but she is a spokesperson for Greenpeace and even lets them hold meetings in her Paris apartment. She and her director husband are dubbed the French Bradgelina. But somehow she still doesn’t seem annoying.

What really got her in my good books was when I heard that she appeared in two Hawksley Workman videos. Like WTF? Hawksley Workman, for those of you not in the now, is without a doubt, the most underrated songwriter in all of North America. He is Canadian and passionate and writes the most tragic and earnest love songs that make Rufus Wainwright sound like he is singing about chocolate cake and potato chips. Oh Wait that is what RW sings about! ZING!

If you are not familiar with Hawksley Workman, youtube or download Jealous of your Cigarette and you will see what I’m talking about.

Supposedly Marion and hawksley have worked on a bunch of songs for her upcoming album. AMAZING.

She’s also going to be in the movie musical NINE. AMAZING.

She’s also in Public Enemies with Johnny Depp. AMAZING.

She always seems so happy and giggly. AMAZING.

I <3 Marion Cotillard and she is my favourite Frenchie for this Friday!

week in the knees wednesday.... Brandon Reilly of Nightmare of You.

So this week, I am staying with my rocker theme and picking the shaggy-haired, mumbling lead singer of Nightmare of You as my Week in the Knees Wednesday winner.

Brandon Reilly always looks like he will eitehr kick you in the shins or burst into tears. I like that. A lot. I’ve almost forgot aboutr him until I was going through my Itunes and found the precious gem, “I Wanna be Buried in Your Backyard.”

Oh 2002, how I missed you. Blogs were actually interesting. I actually felt like if I dropped myself off in the LES of NYC Ultragrrl and all her friends would invite me to live in their house with the big red door and pose like a heroine addict in front of the infamous wall at MisShapes.

“ For I haven’t slept a week since you’ve been gone/Now I want to be buried in your backyard/And when the flowers grow just know you’re still in my heart”… I used to listen to this song on repeat at work all the time. Imagining that there was someone out there who was sensitive enough to be so outwardly vulnerable, so grandiose and so earnest.

That is Brandon reilly. Tortured, skinny and rarely cracking a smile, he is a rockstar without the glamour, a hipster without the overwhelming irony and a regular guy without the regular.

He is a screw up and a romantic and his songs make me think I am in the 80s listening to the Smiths or the Commitments or some English band that has a really tortured lead singer with a non-chalant gay vibe.

I love you Brandon Reilly and I miss 2002!

Must Have Monday.... Green tea Ginger Ale...

I love me some pop. I know, it can be bad for you, what with the caffeine and the asparmatame and the glucose bi-carbonate, but pa-sha! I love me some zero cola and I don’t care what anyone says zero carbs, zero sugars, zero calories equal plenty of goodness for me. But then one day I was at the good ole Petro Can and I was like why should I buy a zero when I have zero at home? So I bought something else. Something different. And something magical happened. I discovered… Canada Dry Green Tea Ginger Ale. It is so good.

Now some of you might say Green tea pop is everything that is wrong with our consumerist culture. To you I say… Have you tried it? I can’t belive no one made green tea pop sooner. It’s AMAZING ( imagine me talking in my white girl drag queen voice) AMAZING!

I never really liked Ginger Ale. I used to think it was like th pop that those girls drink that are like oh I never have any sugar! (FYI these girls are the same ones who get tipsy after sucking on wine gums!) Or Ginger Ale is what you are forced to drink when you are sick and you’ve been forced to gargle with salt water for 3 minutes straight! (eek! Elementary school flashback!)

Whatever my deep psychological reasons for shying away from Canada Dry, I’m right on board with Green tea Ginger Ale. It’s so yummy and I have a feeling there might have to be a dance battle in my mouth between zero and greentea to see which is my tastebuds’ favourite.

Oh yeah! The gaunlet has been drawn!

Canada Dry Green Tea Ginger Ale is my first Must Have Monday.

Favourite Frenchie Friday.....Vanessa Paradis.

So why do I love Vanessa Paradis? Is it because she has a funny shaped head like and egg and a gap-toothed grin? Noo… but that is definitely part of her charm. She is the woman that has finally tamed Johnny Depp and together they seem to live this fabulous bourgeoisie hippie life on a farm in the South of France.

Actually my fascination with Vanessa Paradis began in the early 90s when she was dating Lenny Kravitz in his “Are you Gonna Go My Way” days and was the spokesmodel for Coco Perfume. She released a U.S. albulm to little fanfare except all the cool NYC girls in Jane magazine were in love with her; and so I was too. Download “Be My Baby” and you’ll see why. She’s child-like and bird like and a little weird. She has hardly aged since the 90s but she still manages to look her age.

She’s an accomplished actress in many French films including like the only one that I really know well, La Fille sur la pont ( the Girl on the Bridge). If you haven’t seen these movie. You must. It’s about a suicidal girl who becomes the target girl for a travelling knife throwing act. So. Good.

She always whispers in interviews and says her biggest vice is bubble gum. Hello? You are with Johnny Depp and you biggest vice is bubble gum?? Oh Mon dieu!

C’est la vie. I guess that’s what he’s into. Johnny Depp eats roaches ( it’s true… look it up) and Vanessa Paradis chews too much bubble gum. It’s a match made in weirdo heaven. And I love it. Vanessa Paradis is my first Favourite Frenchie Friday!

Thursday: You are a Robot if….

Today’s you are robot if features one of my favourite new singers, Taylor Swift. Sure she’s young and supposedly country.

But her diary confessional lyrics and her bouncy curly hair make me like her.. a lot. I bought her CD! Not ashamed to admit it. I sometimes cry when this song comes on my Ipod. A bit ashamed to admit it.

But I mean come on she relased this video around Mother’s Day. She says her best friend is her mom! It’s actual home movies of her and her mom!

I don't know who I'm gonna talk to now at school
But I know I'm laughing on the car ride home with you
Don't know how long it's gonna take to feel okay
But I know I had the best day with you today.

This video is so cute and heart warming and if it doesn’t make you cry or a bit teary-eyed or want to call your mom, then face it… you are a robot!

Weak in the Knees Wednesday - Kings of Leon’s Caleb Followill.

When the King’s of Leon’s lead singer, Caleb Followill sings the opening lines of Use Somebody: “ I’ve been roaming around, I was looking down at all I see/ Painted faces fill the places I can’t reach” I fall in love over and over again.

Even though that song is on every radio station every 20 minutes and without fail at 8:10 am every morning when I am first logging onto my computer at work. I still love it. His voice sounds so tired and aching and scratchy and sexy.

Caleb and his brother Nathan formed KOL in 2000 in Nashville TN. Their father was a Pentecostal evangelist minister and they named their band after him and their grandpa. I have never seen Caleb without his requisit scruff face and when he sings he moves his head around all cute like Stevie Wonder.

They play just regualr rock and don;’t try to get all fancy with hipsters or the sceney crowd in London, NYC or LA.

When they opened for U2, they said it was dream come true ( how many hipsters would admit to having a dream?)

Caleb has some model girlfriend but whatevs. He is supercute and once said his dad was his role model. AWWW!

Caleb Followill is the first Weak in the Knees Wednesday.

Put a Key on It

If you like it, then you should have put a ring on it! That’s the stern command that has become an anthem for all the single ladies everywhere. But I beg to differ. If you like it then you should have given a key. That’s how I roll. I’m not ready for the ring on it but I’ve dabbled in the put a key on it arena. And there seem to be some misnomers out there. Allow me the honour of providing this PSA on Put A Key on It Etiquette.

A key doesn’t mean you can come over whenever you want after work or during the day when I’m not there. Key of convenience or key to the heart. Everyone has a cell phone. A quick heads up to let me know you’re coming over will allow me to wipe of my facial hair remover cream and close the door to the bathroom when I’m “making a deposit.” While I probably won’t put on a bra or shave my legs. I promise you I will he moustashe-free and there will be no potatoe-chip residue on my face ( well at least when you first get here).

There are two types of keys you can give or receive: a key of convenience or a key to the heart.

A key of convenience is a key given at any point during the relationship. It’s a “Here’s a key” kind of thing. No long prologue. No declaration of what the key receiver means to you, no vague far off plans of sharing bathroom shelf space or drawer real estate. It’s just a key so you can feed the cat; so you can come in late without making me get up and let you in; so you can sleep in while I trot off to work. It’s a key of convenience. A key of convenience is like a library book; it need not be returned right away but you should always ask for a renewal: not keep the key forever and secretly come over without warning or invitation. That is NOT good key of convenience etiquette. You also should not invite people over without asking. That is also not good key of convenience etiquette.

A key to the heart is different. Given after too many nights being shuffled out of the bed early to accommodate the early worker and too many missed late night rendezvous due to lack of key difficulties; the key to the heart is a step towards something more. It usually involves some kind of affectionate exchange. Some sort of inkling that the relationship seems to have a future beyond next weekend.

Sometimes a key of convenience can turn into a key to the heart. Sometimes a key to the heart can revert to a key of convenience. This is usually when the relationship is snowballing down from a potential future to a certain death.

But it is very bad key to the heart or key of convenience etiquette to keep a key longer than the relationship. Always return the key. I repeat Always return the key. Especially if it’s a girl’s key. It’s really creepy to hear someone fiddling with your locks when you’re huddled under the covers after watching back-to-back episodes of Law and Order SVU. Are you really conceited enough to think that you are the only person I would ever want to give key to? Or do you think I’m some hussy that just gives out keys to every man I meet?

It doesn’t need to be a big production. Just return the key. In the mailbox. Under the matt. A quick email setting up a drop off time. It’s not that difficult, but the more time that passes the more awkward it gets.

Just. Return. The. Key.

P.S. Joe Fresh, I love you!

I don't know if I could really love SuperStore more if I tried. Their shopping carts have a little holder for your latte. Joe Fresh, the Brainchild of Joseph Mimran the uber designer who created Club Monaco (remember when it used to be cool and interesting all the time, not just at Christmas time and when you feel like buying sweaters), has taken Canada by storm and made heading out to Langford a monthly occurrence. And now there's Joe Fresh Beauty. Cheap, chic and cute.  I bought a pink lip stain for only $6! And the best surprise was, when I got home and opened it up I realized that the lip stain is shaped like a little felt pen. You just colour in you lips and voila! Perfect pink pout. It smells clean  and fresh (duh) and is super moisturizing! 

Okay my public service announcement ends here. 

Momma, can you Hear me?

The relationship between mothers and daughters is tenuous at best. At the root of it is that both mothers and daughters assume different roles at different stages in life.  At times my mother has been my enemy, my protector, my enabler, my friend, my prison guard, my co-worker, my gossip buddy, my evil twin, my partner, a stranger and everything in between.  I'm sure she has seen me as everything under the sun from an innocent child to a brazen hussy to a complete failure at everything to a success at everything I touch. 

My mother is the queen of hindsight and the queen of blissful ignorance and the queen of I-hat-you-today-and-love-you-tomorrow-let's-never-talk-about-that-again. It can be a bit hard to keep up, especially when you are out of practise.  

A couple of weeks after I got home my mother and I got in a big row and I kicked her out of the house.  We both stewed it over for a few hours and in the end she called and apologized. Case closed. Hurtful words successfully swept under the carpet and forgotten. Well, for her at least. 

Her words have clouded every conversation I've had in the last two weeks. This time for some reason, her cruel words were not as easy to shake. 

Then today we had a conversation.  Innocent enough.  Nothing new or interesting was said really.  I said I was having a hard time finding a job and that I was sick again.  She said I shouldn't have gone to Vancouver because I always come home sick and that I shouldn't have quit my job in December. (See what I mean about Queen of hindsight?) So I innocently said, stop criticizing me when I am depressed. And she was all apologetic and sweet. She said she didn't realize she had been criticizing me and then asked me if I needed some money. 

All these years, I've tried all these underhanded, backwards ways of teeling her things or how I feel and now I realize that all she needed was a basic direct approach.  Be nice to me, I already feel bad enough! 

Boy that would have saved me gallons of tears if I had figured that out 15 years ago! 

The Art of Couple Walking

Okay maybe this is a mute point for you you old married types, but when you are dating someone or getting to know someone or whatever, finding the right couple walk is a a very slippery slope. There are many things to account for  the size of both practitioners, where you are walking ( a couple walk in the park could be very different from a couple walk on a busy downtown street), the speed with which you both walk.... 

 

It's complicated Business and sometimes if you pull yourself out of an awkward couple walk it can send the wrong message to your new and timid couple walking partner.  While you may just mean the break in union as a chance to see the new window display at She She Bags, he may take it as a silent reprimand against his claustrophobic clutch around your shoulders. 

So please men, take this a guide to what your subconscious declaration of your property or your innocuous display of affection can mean to women and how it can affect the all important factors of trying to keeping our bags on our shoulders or our jackets from falling down or our necks from developing serious kinks in an attempt to let you seem taller and shrinking into your arms. Women, please take this as a sign.  You are not alone.  You aren't the only one who finds these situations awkward and unreadable.  And if you have never gave this kind of thing a second thought: remember: I don't have a job right now! 

There is no walk more annoying than the backpocket jeans double walk.  Like why don't we just tie our ankles together and enter a potato sack race at the local Smith Family Reunion? Ugh! First of all, jeans fall down, easily. They fall down all the more easily when there is a hand in your pocket dragging them down. I'm all for a free feel in public, but please just give it a quick squeeze and then carry on to the destination.  Once at home, we can squeeze whatever until your hearts content, but walking like this makes me feel like a conjoined twin and the two arms always get smashed together and then on top of that you have to keep your steps in time.  It's weird.  I think after like grade 7, this type of walking needs to be outlawed except maybe if you're in a field of daisies or like maybe if you have had a big fight and are walking on the beach after making up.  Those are the only two circumstances, though!
I'm all for the arm over the shoulder walk.  It's cute.  It's comfortable.  There are a few issues though.  Like your bag. You can't really hold your bag on your shoulder in this couple walk. It'll fall down if it's any bigger than a notebook.  So then you have to hold your bag down at your side, which I find so annoying.  The bag loses its cuteness when its way down by your legs. Plus it's way easier for your bag to get snatched if it is down at your side instead of on your shoulder.  Also this walk is so cute and comfy but it does take up a lot of sidewalk space. Like if you are downtown, be prepared for  people to bump into you and give you angry looks because you are walking slow and taking up all the space. 
This is a variation of the arm over shoulder walk a.k.a the hug walk.  It's okay, I guess.   I feel like it's  such a drunk walk. Like the girl can't stand up so she's hanging off the guy to stumble into the car. It is definitely a very helpful walk when you are drunk, but when you're not.... not so much.  My arms are short, sometimes I can't reach that far around the guy and then it's like where should my hand go.... Backpocket? NO! This photo also illustrates the dangers of couplewalking when both practitioners are about the same height. She won't be able to lean into him for long or she'll get a huge hump on her back or a kink in her neck. 
I like the arm in arm walk.  It's comfy.  You don't have to be the same height or walk in time or anything.  Although I guess it looks a little formal but whatevs. I feel like this is a drunk walk also. More like a happy drunk walk before you have to be helped to the car at the end of the night. Although the more I think of it, it's not exactly a walking downtown walk.  It's more of a here I am making my entrance to the debutante ball walk.  Maybe that's why I like it so much. 
Oh hand-holding.  You are so cute.  You are so normal. Sure maybe a bit grade school but it's good nonetheless. It's cute for anyone from kids to grandparents. It lets people be different heights; walk at different speeds; not get in the way of people trying to get by downtown (unless you're one of those couples that makes people walk around you so you won't have to let go of your hands for even a few seconds and in that case.... you're lame). 

 Yes hand-holding, you are my favorite.  An oldie but a goodie. But that's just me. And every couple walking partnership is different.  So who knows what will happen next? 

Sometimes I hear you, Sometimes I don't

Okay, I feel like a self-absorbed tart saying this, but is there some kind of weird joke going on at our local Starbucks's? Is there some random drunk photo of me nabbed off facebook or flickr that has been posted in various coffeehouses with instructions for barristas to handle me with extra care and build me up with extraneous compliments?

I've been to Starbucks maybe like 6 times since I've been back ( I know, I know, a bit excessive considering I don't have a job, but whatevs... simple pleasures) and every time the barrista has given me some strange unwarranted compliment.  One guy called me beautiful, one guy said he loved my hair, one guy said i had a great smile. 

I was like OMFG is it that I am now this old maid that the young barristas feel they have to go out of their way to give me some random compliment for fear that I will go and fling myself off the nearest highrise with the remnants of a Grande non-fat sugar-free hazelnut extra hot latte clouding the crime scene and creating a PR nightmare for the Starbucks brass. 

I finally swallowed my apprehension over sounding like a) a conceited twat who wants everyone to know she once got six compliments in two weeks b) a hopelessly insecure dweeb who cannot even take a compliment easily c) a drone who cannot let a haphazard nicety go by without making into a total incident and asked my coffee cohort what she thought of this undeserved and unexpected occurrence. 

She said I was dumb.  She said that lots of people get random compliments from people; it's not like a marriage proposal or someone asking for your phone number. She said don't be dumb. She said I always get lots of compliments from strangers both at Starbucks and other places. She said you're being so dumb. She said I smile a lot and play with my hair. These are obvious things to compliment or make small talk about. She said I'm such a dummy. She says maybe in my old age my hearing is actually getting better and I am actually paying some attention to what's happening around me.  

She makes a lot of sense. But she calls me dumb a bit too much for my taste. 

Vacation Coma...

I don't think I really understand how people have vacations properly.  Okay maybe I get it when you go off with your friends, family or loved ones and then you come back to reality and you share inside jokes about funny things that happened and random homeless people you met on random drunk nights.  

But I don't get it when you go off on your own and meet such cool people everywhere and have so much fun and then come back and no one knows what you are talking about and you have no job so you just kind of sit at home and surf the Internet and hang with your cat and think about what happened just two short weeks ago. 

It was fun. Yes.  That has been established.  But what now? Where now?  I mean I'm back from vacation but I'm not really back. I'm not at work. Not going out.  Barely talking on the phone.  I don't feel like myself. I feel like someone watching my old self.  It is really weird and I can't tell if it's the result of some big shift in my personality or just I am really bored and at wits end so I am making all this up in my head. 

I mean I've been sick.  And that has put a damper on things.  And I turned the big 3-0. But I'm not sure that is what it is.  As much as I try to surf for work and work on my writing I find myself browsing Expedia and TravelZoo.ca looking at cheap flights and daydreamingly planning trips. 

Obviously, this is not a good time to go anywhere.  My Dad is in India and I'm not sure if you've heard, but there's this thing called the economy and it's in the shiter and that means I should try and not live on credit and get a job. 

But I can't stop my daydreaming!

How a 42-year writer is like a 108-year old vampire that is a bit manic depressive and might kill you if he has sex with You.....

Okay, I know, I know I have become way too obsessed with popular vampire fiction. But you know what? I don’t care! I like it. It’s dangerous and sexy and hot and tragic. And it helps me get through my humdrum days of boring, un-dramatic relationship problems when I can imagine I’m actually caught up in some sexy vampire werewolf love triangle or am spending my last moments with my vampire soul mate before we are both killed by the Volturi; or am innocently trying to seduce my vampire boyfriend while he tries to be “good” and not drain my blood.

I think it’s like that whenever you read a lot of first-person narrative. You start noticing things the protagonist would notice. You start comparing things in your life to things in the protagonist’s life. Now I know 42 is nothing close to 108 but since I seem to talk and act like I am 15 years old, at times it can feel like a monumental difference. He says some funny expressions that sometimes makes me think that he has lived through the black plague, the civil war and the women’s suffrage movement. Like the other day I was just like petty mad about something and he tugs on my arm and was like “Why are you acting so cold?” I totally had to bite my tongue, but inside I was like “what is this 1881?” And that tiny quick-witted quip starts me on another daydream. It is 1881. I am a suffragette and an carrying a parasol and wearing petticoats marching through the streets of London when a dark-haired stranger with a huge widow’s peak and an heavy gait saves me from being pelted with pebbles from the angry throngs of pig-headed men. It’s all confusion and chaos as a riot breaks out and I am disoriented amongst the masses. But he leads me through the crowds and down a dark alley where he grabs me by the shoulders and.... you know.... like drains all my blood. And then I look up and he’s like “What’s wrong with you? Now You’re giving me the silent treatment too?” I can’t very well be like oh I was daydreaming you were a vampire in the 1800s again. I already have reached my threshold of teen girl teasing from this one. There is no room for any more.

The Daydreaming happens more often than I’d like. I’d say for the last two months, if I’m not with him, I’d reading about Vampires, talking about vampires, talking about him, thinking about vampires, thinking about him, googling vampires (like the stars of the movie, the behind the scenes stuff about the authors and movie and TV shows... nothing like how do I actually become a vampire, I’m not that far-gone!), or like with my parents or at Bikrams. The two were bound to collide in my small pea-sized brain someday.

Sometimes when he is lecturing me about safety or rudely making me nervous about my trip by creating crazy What-if scenarios and sending me horror-stories of women raped and beaten in Buenos Aires, I try to not stomp my foot like a 10 year old or do the whole Nyah Nyah Nyah Nyah thing with my fingers stuck in my ears, but imagine that he is nervous about my safety because he is so old and he has seen so many terrible things and he sees himself as my world protector (although the whole he won’t carry my groceries anymore in an attempt to prepare me for lugging my backpack around Argentina for 15 days doesn’t really jibe with this particular daydream). Sometimes I imagine that he was a poet laureate in WW1. So as the battles at Flanders Fields were being fought and the battles on the Western Front were being waged, he strolls the sidelines watching young men getting shot at and blown to bits and he quietly writes down his reflections like a fly on the wall unable to help or engage with the soldiers in any way. He enters the barracks and sees the cruel hazing amongst comrades and feels the undercurrent of fear and loss through everyone. But he isn’t able to help them through their pain or even tell a few fresh jokes to clear their heads for a few minutes because he is not one of them. He sees all the pain in the world; he sees the worst of humanity but remains disengaged from it all.

The daydreaming is fun for the most part. I almost always “awake” back to reality with a smile on my face. But the Carl Jung part of me would say I am obviously subverting my personal fears for the relationship behind a superimposed heightened reality in order to save my psyche from acute self-awareness. (thank you damned 3rd-year Psychology elective). I don’t really want to deal with the problems we have. So I imagine we don’t have those problems. I imagine we have the problems that can be resolved in a 600 page novel (well a four-part series, is more accurate I guess).

I guess it all stems from wondering if he really likes me. Who is the chasee and who is the chaser? I thought I was the chasee at first and I would say like 60% of the time I still do. But in the most important times, I feel like the chaser. Like a very inadequate chaser that stumbles around in the dark and falls asleep with a kitty cat at her feet but wakes up with a birds nest on her head. So I dream. I dream about what it would be like if early to bed really meant early to bed because if we stay up I might have sex with you and kill you by accident. I dream that t is enormous self-restraint that keeps us apart not lack of attraction or the building piles of work waiting for him the next day. I dream that one day there will be broken bed frames and holes in the walls and bruises and fang marks all over my body. I dream about it all. And then I wake up.

TV Placement killed the Video Star

There was a time when song and video went hand in hand. What is Teen Spirit by Nirvana without the iconic image of the anarchy cheerleaders and the chubby janitor headbanging away? What is The Scientist by Coldplay without the images of the backwards car crash? These were both iconic songs and iconic videos. But nowadays the only songs that really have videos that stick in your head are those few that get overplayed so much on radio you are ready to murder the tuner. I mean I love T.I.’s Live your Life song as much as anyone and even like Katie Perry’s Hot N Cold but I swear those are the only two music videos I ever see on TV anymore. Let’s face it. Music videos are not on music video channels much anymore. MTV will show a few seconds of new music videos if you’re lucky and Much Music will basically only show you Jonas Brothers or Simple Plan music videos or shows making fun of music videos (I love you Video on Trail but you are on like 20 times a day).
Today new music is brokered not through the dead radio format or the newly buried music videos; it’s found through television shows and commercials. At one time it was considered selling out but these days artist have few other choices with both radio and music television refusing to embrace new genres and take risks. For new artists it is a great opportunity to get their music out there and up their MySpace hits. For television shows it’s instant cool cache. The more indie the featured artist is, the more allure he/she hold for fans eager to find something new and already crowned cool by the tv execs who manufacture their favourite show.

When’s the last time you saw a Bright Eyes video? I would say maybe never? A quick Youtube search shows that he has plenty but I’ve rarely seen any. But I’ve downloaded over 20 of his songs and he routinely sells out 3,000 seat venues in minutes wherever he tours. I mean who can forget the first “Chrismakuah” episode of the O.C. with Blue Christmas by Bright Eyes? Or when “Lover I Don’t Have to Love” by Bright Eyes was featured in that hawt make-out scene between Marissa and Volchuk in Season 3? Or where would Snow Patrol be without “Chasing Cars” in Grey’s Anatomy at the end of Season 2 when Denny Ducette dies and Izzie is so upset in her pink prom gown?

I’m not sure what show started this trend, but I definitely know which shows do it best: Any Josh Schwartz-produced show, (The O.C., Gossip Girl, Chuck), Greys Anatomy, One Tree Hill, So You Think You Can Dance, Brothers and Sisters. Actually any melodrama works well.. Come to think of it, I think I even remember learning new music off the original 90210, like in the later years when they had the Peach Pit After Dark and like Toni Tony Tone played there, and Brian McKnight and Christina Augerila, and R.E.M..... Now none of these acts were really indie darlings or new discoveries by any means but they all hit a new cache of cool when they appeared on the hit show and I am definitely from the school of anything cool that happens on teen serials happened first on 90210.

All in all I think it’s for the best. Finding new music through television shows forces you to go out and find music as opposed to radio and music video channels that just spoon-feed you everything you are supposed to like. Undoubtedly by searching out an artist’s MySpace or downloading their featured single on itunes, you are exposed to more of their music and maybe even other artists similar to them if you are perceptive enough or so inclined to follow the consumer bread crumbs.

It’s a bit sad though. I mean there are a lot of artists still making very interesting videos like the Ting Tings, Radiohead, Rosin Murphy. But their videos get little play on music television. So your choice is either watch new videos on Youtube or just create your own music videos in your head. Just don’t be surprised if your mental music video contains steamy scenes from last week’s Gossip Girl.

Um... Like You Should Be a Writer or Something!

Wow! What a novel idea! OMG NOBODY has ever suggested that to me! Actually all my life I’ve wanted to be a secretary. I used to write next to my goals in grade school right next to wanting to be a princess and wanting to be the head coach of the Canucks.
Hey buddy, here’s an interesting idea how about you take your preconceived notions about what makes someone a writer and shove it! It’s not the 1980s anymore. People aren’t defined by what they do from 9-5 pm. I’m a sister 24 hours a day and nobody ever calls me that ( well except of course for my sister).

A job is a job. And I shouldn’t be judged on whether I seem too smart for the job or what my motivations are for the job. I should be judged on whether I can do the job. And you know what? I can. It’s not brain surgery. Don’t try to cram everything you learned in your three-week Human Resources workshop into a series of juggling acts for a basic admin job. Get over yourself. It’s not that hard.

Humpfh!!!!

I Can Make Love to A Crocodile

I’ve never liked ‘the oldies.’ They bug me and a lot of the time it all sounds like the same droning mid-tempo elevator music. Gives me a headache! But lately I’ve developed a new appreciation for the ‘oldies.’ At least some of them. I like the blues. I like the down in the gutter; going to shoot myself with a bb gun and make you watch blues. I like the I’m so poor, so desperate so drunk that I can’t even keep my words apart blues.

Have you ever heard of Koko Taylor? She sings this song called I’m a Woman and it so raw, so gutter, so real. I love it!
Here’s a sampling of the lyrics:

When I was a little girl Only twelve years old
Couldn't do nothing
to save my dog gone soul
My mama told me.
the day I was grown
She says "Sing the blues child, Sing it from now on".

I'm a woman,
oh yeah
I'm a woman, I'm a ball of fire
I'm a woman, I can make love to a crocodile
I'm a woman, I can sing the blues
I'm a woman, I can change old to new

I also decided I love It’s a Man’s World by James Brown. Now the James Brown I know was all hip shaking and hooting and hollering. But this song shows a desperate and vulnerable James Brown. It is so sexy. (It doesn’t hurt that I first heard this song when Nico and Arrasay danced contemporary to it on SYTYCDC).

My next favourite right now would have to be Van Morrison. Now I am not so dim to have never heard of Van Morrison. I promise. I knew who he was. I knew he influenced everyone from Elvis Costello to Jay Z. But I only was familiar with his big hits like Brown-eyed Girl and Moon Dance. The best song of his has to be “Do Go to Nightclubs Anymore.”

I'm not a legend in my own mind

Don't need booze to unwind

Don't have no reason to pretend

Ain't got no huckleberry friend

Alcohol was too big a price

That why I said hey no dice

When it comes to men or mice

Don't go to nightclubs no more.

I bought four new CDs online on Monday but I’ve barely listened to them (although I have listened to 808s and Heartbreaks a lot and it is so genius! Oh and the Virgins EP is so infectious I feel like shaking convulsively every time it comes up on my iPod.) I am obsessed with my oldies favourites right now.

Does this mean I am officially getting old???

30s the new 20, yo, I’m so hot STILL!!!

I don’t know why I always hated my birthday when I was younger. Actually I do, but that’s a story that involves a trip to the Shrink’s couch and some 2-ply tissue. I want to talk about fun stuff today.

I think maybe when I was about 28 I started being like OMFG my birthday’s coming! Where are you taking me? What nice things are you going to say to me? What are you getting me? Not out loud of course, that would be rude and presumptuous. But I love the idea of people taking you places and being extra nice to you and you know loving you long time.

This year I will be all by myself on my real birthday. Away from my friends and family and my cat. But I don’t know. It doesn’t exactly sound scary to me. It sounds exciting; adventurous. Maybe I’ll be travelling across the world’s biggest waterfall on my birthday. Maybe I’ll be at a boca juniors football game on my birthday. Maybe I’ll be tangoing on the cobble streets of Buenos Aires on my Birthday. Maybe I’ll be getting spa treatments and getting shitfaced in the hotel bar on my birthday. I don’t know exactly what I’ll be doing but I’m sure it will be fun.

And then when I get back I hope to celebrate over and over again with everyone I know and love.

Traiga en el 30s sucio!!!

Top Five Reasons I’d Rather Sleep with me Cat than HIM!

1. The cat may scratch my arms and legs in his sleep but at least he doesn’t burn my face with his three-day old beard or rip my hair out with his damn Mexican silver rings that he won’t even take off at bedtime.

2. The cats only wakes me up once at 7:30 am wanting to be fed, while he wakes me up intermittently to ask random questions about his latest article/story/upset feeling in his tummy.

3. When I wake up from a nightmare, the cat either runs away or stares up at me quizzically. I prefer that over the pseudo-Freudian mumbo-gumbo that makes the possibility of getting anymore sleep that night almost nil.

4. The cat likes to cuddles and then goes away to its own section of the bed, while he flops on top of it all and claims the bed like a conquering explorer ploughing over everything that was there before.

5. The cat may sniff at something funny but I have yet to hear him ask when was the last time I washed the sheets!


**DISCLAIMER** This is about no one in particular, more like an appropriation of many men exaggerated for effect! I love you long time!