Guilt. Is there anything you can’t do? We’ll be right back.

The following excerpt is a comment on my last post:

Guess what tomorrow is? The one month anniversary of your last post.

AAAAAaaand, if you don’t post next week, there will be no posts in March!!!

Let me show you a data point of scientific data:
April 2007 (1)
February 2007 (1)
December 2006 (3)
September 2006 (1)
May 2006 (1)
April 2006 (2)
March 2006 (1)
January 2006 (2)
December 2005 (1)
October 2005 (3)
September 2005 (1)
August 2005 (4)
July 2005 (1)
June 2005 (1)
May 2005 (2)
April 2005 (3)
March 2005 (1)
February 2005 (3)
January 2005 (6)
December 2004 (2)
November 2004 (3)
October 2004 (3)
September 2004 (8)
August 2004 (2)
July 2004 (4)
June 2004 (6)
May 2004 (7)
April 2004 (12)
March 2004 (13)
February 2004 (8)
January 2004 (7)
December 2003 (7)
November 2003 (10)
October 2003 (19)
September 2003 (12)

This blog started off healthy enough – and then there were no posts in November 2005! The following months were a write-off (if there were any posts at all) and only a few entries later, it was all over!

Even if it has no illustrations, even if its not your best work, some people need to read new blog entries and not see them head down the haunted path to non-existence.

I failed on the one-month anniversary front, however, I win with a post in March. Go me. I do, however, have one issue with this comment. Let’s face it, I likely have many, many issues with this comment, but I’ll limit it to just one. This commenter is trying to convince me to post using statistics and although it appears to have worked, my issue with it is this: You can prove anything with statistics; 14% of people know that.

So, why haven’t I been posting? Well, I got a new guitar and although she’s really pretty, she’s quite demanding of my time. If I don’t play enough attention to her, she sits in the corner and looks sad. And, I can’t have that.

Also, school. I fear that next semester (also known as the semester from hell where I’d rather curl up under a rock than deal with all the responsibilities and deadlines) will only make things worse. I’m taking three classes. To some, that may seem like a cake walk, to me, it’s a life ruiner. Literally.

I’ve also been spending a lot of time on the outside. It’s a wonderful place with fresh air and animals and stuff. I take my brother and his dog for a walk every week. (which reminds me I should have called to remind him that’s it’s doggie day today). I’m slowly but steadily moving my way up into ‘favorite aunt’ status with his dog. That makes me ridiculously happy.

What else makes me ridiculously happy? Ice-skating. It makes me feel like a cross between a child and a divorcée. Odd combination? Not if you think about it. I feel like a child because I get super giddy when I’m skating. I glide around with (what my brother calls) my shit-eating-grin on my face. I laugh pretty much constantly. High on life – OH! That’s what those after-school-specials were talking about. I wish I discovered this before I discovered drugs and alcohol. I feel like a divorcée because even though I’m living life and having fun, I’m really truly afraid of falling and getting hurt, again.

I think that’s about it. My apologies for sucking it up in the writing arena and big thanks to Gorm for giving me the kick in the pants that I needed to post something. I suppose he’s right, illustrations are not absolutely necessary and this wasn’t my best work. Thanks for that. Happy reading. Yay – new post! 🙂

I second-guessed every comma in this post

Well, I have 4 school deadlines over the next week and a half and really should be working on at least a couple of them. Instead I wrote this post. Gorm says I should always write posts when I’m procrastinating; I take that as my last post was my best work. Boo-yah! Anyway, here’s the latest installment of “I’d rather do anything besides schoolwork”.

I was recounting my weekend to a friend at work the other day; I was telling her about the Saturday night I’d just had. A guy I know, pretty well spent the whole night hitting on me and whispering sweet nothings in my ear. It was quite something really. Don’t worry, I’ve known him for long enough that it wasn’t creepy or anything… and I haven’t known him for so long that it was creepy or anything.

Anyway, at one point he said:

Which immediately made me think:

And then that made me think about what it would actually be like to own the moon and the stars.

Not exactly something I’d turn down given the chance. Once I got to the end of that little tale, my friend burst out laughing:

Me: I know! Who says these things, right?

Her: Um… … every guy?

Me: What?! No way!

Her: Yeah, totally. You’ve never had a guy say this shit to you before?

Me: No, I haven’t… Have you?

Her: Tonnes of times!! Not any of your boyfriends? Not even your long-term boyfriend?

Me: No and no.

Her: Wow.

Me: I know! That’s why it’s so exciting!

Her: That’s not what I was thinking.

Me: What were you thinking?

Her: You’ve dated assholes!!!

Apparently every guy that she’s ever dated (or has ever wanted to date her) has said these things. She also suggested that this is what every guy says to get in a girl’s pants. Not to say that that thought hadn’t crossed my mind in the moment. In fact, a childhood conversation with my dad flashed before my eyes.

However, I immediately dismissed it as a possibility and allowed the sweet nothings to continue being whispered in my ear. Maybe I’m easily swindled by it because no guy has ever been (or even feigned to be) romantic like that before. Or perhaps the world is different than the moon and the stars. Not likely

Big thanks to EliseArt for providing the illustrations

It feels like 5 mins when I’m alone… 20 mins when I’m car-pooling

I’ve been single for some time now. Rather than doing math and becoming depressed, I’ll leave the actual number out and stick with ‘some time’.

The first while, it was fine, interesting actually. ‘Finding yourself’ and having ‘me time’. But it all gets very old, very fast. Over the last while I’ve found myself wanting someone, anyone, more than before. Not because I’m unhappy or unfulfilled or anything… I’m just tired of being alone. Also, I need to get some.

So despite my better judgment, I decided to embark upon the internet to help me find a match. After a ‘bad experience’ on a free-dating website, I quickly thrust my credit card into my computer, shrieking “Take my money, just so that doesn’t happen again!!!!!!!!”

For the past 5 days, I’ve been living the paid-dating-site lifestyle. It’s really not that much different than the lifestyle I was previously living except that now my credit card is being billed and I have something less interesting to look at on the internet.

So, a couple days ago, I get a ‘match’; it’s a guy named “CJ”, he’s 25 and lives in Vancouver. I immediately thought of this guy I went to school with last year that has the same name.

Side story: Me & CJ had a class for 15 weeks together this time last year. During the first few weeks of class, our preferred seats got closer and closer together, until we sat next to each other every class, no matter what. Eventually, people wouldn’t even take that seat beside me because they knew that CJ was going to want to sit there. But because I’m a moron, I wasn’t really sure if we were into each other. I asked him out for a drink, he accepted, we went out, but it all seemed buddy-buddy. We emailed, talked on the phone, went and watched a movie together and that’s about where it ended. Every so often he’ll call me or email me and we’ll talk and then it ends. Very mind-gamey. But because I liked him, I’ve always kinda held out hope; this hope is rekindled every time I get the email or the phone call from him.

So anyways, I get matched up with CJ, 25, Vancouver. I immediately think of CJ from class. Even though I know CJ from class is 8 years older than me (I’m not 17) and he lives in PoMo. I was disappointed when I opened CJ’s profile and, alas, it wasn’t him.

So yesterday, I get an email announcing that I have a new match “CJ, 39, PoCo”… Immediately, I thought, hey, maybe it’s CJ… ya right… he doesn’t live in PoCo and he’s only 8 years older than me. But when I logged on and looked at his profile it was him. I burst out laughing. I didn’t know what to do. So I logged off and went out, as planned, barely thinking about him all day.

Like most dating sites, “who viewed you” is an option on this site, so I knew that he would know that I looked. I was expecting something. I get home late after volunteering all day, check my email and nothing. Log onto the site and he hasn’t viewed my profile. I was slightly disappointed.

This morning, I wake up, check my email and I have a notification. This site has a way of ‘sending a match a message’, without having to ‘send a match a message’. It’s a way of ‘saying I’m interested’ without having to ‘say I’m interested’ and worry about what they’ll say in return. It’s basically a drop-down menu and you select the message you want to send. Wink! I like your pics. We live close, let’s chat. I like you, let’s meet up. Let’s get to know each other, slowly.

So I log in and the message is one of these drop-down messages and it’s from CJ and it’s the “let’s get to know each other slowly” option.

I think he’s fucking with me.

Ramdon Thought

So I was sitting in class today and the teacher is explaining how the environment and culture that we grow up in can influence the kind of people we grow up to be.

His examples:

If you grew up in a church-going home you are more likely to go to church, think stealing is bad, think lying is bad etc.

Whereas if you’re raised by a family of thieves, you are more likely to grow up and steal.

In other words, you are likely to grow up and become like the type of people that raised you.

My immediate thought…

“I was raised by assholes”

Hey – you don’t believe in wearing sweat pants out of the house… some of us like to have a good time!!

I’m chronically honest. I am pretty much incapable of lying. Why? I don’t really know. It makes me feel like I’m deceiving people and the guilt brings me down. I’m truely honest to a fault. Luckily, that, however, is my only fault.

When I was growing up, my mom always told me that if I lied about something I would get in more trouble than if I told the truth in the first place. Because she would find out if I lied. At the time, I thought this was complete bullshit. Ya right, Mom, you’re going to ground me, regardless. As I’ve gotten older, I’ve come to realize that she was right (just don’t tell her I said that!). Do something wrong and admit your mistake and the other person involved will appreciate your honesty (although will still be disappointed). Lie, and they find out, well now, that’s grounds for dismissal. Or so I assume. I really haven’t found myself in that situation before. Why? Because the guilt brings me down and I always fess up before anyone has any opportunity to ‘find anything out’.

However, every so often, I decide that my guilt complex has held me back far too much in life and I throw caution to the wind and do dishonest things. So far, Karma, Murphy’s Law and/or the Spite Gods have struck me down everytime I decide this is a good idea… thrusting me back into my “honest to a fault” default. Bastards.

A few weeks ago, I was celebrating my birthday. I went to a pub and got nice and liquored up and then decided to go to a club to dance… well, the club was one skytrain stop away. I get to the station and go towards the ticket machine with the intention of paying (because not paying would be dishonest!)… and my friend says “We don’t really have to pay, do we? I mean, it’s one stop!”… and I started to say “Oh, yes, yes, we do.” But then I said “You know what, it’s my birthday and I don’t have to pay on my birthday, let’s go!!!”.

We start riding the escalator up to the platform, I felt pretty confident… and then the guilt started getting to me. Halfway up the escalator, I turned to my friend and whispered “…There’s a cop… at the top…”. Her response: “No there isn’t. You’re paranoid”. So as the escalator reached the top, I see a lady standing there, in a uniform that can only be described as cop-like. She looked me in the eye and said “Ticket, please”.

I didn’t know what to do. I couldn’t tell her the truth and say I didn’t have one… so I start searching, in vain, through my empty pockets, even going so far as to open my coat and look inside…

…as if I’m one of those “street vendors” that carries watches inside the coat, but instead of watches it’s valid train passes. There weren’t any. My friend looks her straight in the eye and says “I’m drunk. I didn’t think to buy one” so the nice lady says “Okay well, go and buy one”. So we did. No harm, no foul. Things don’t always work out like that.

I go to school. I go to school in the evenings basically next door to my work. I park at work, because it’s free. But the other day, I was really running late so I decide to park at school. I mean, I was running so late, I had to eat my dinner in the car. Not too bad, everyone eats while driving right? Ya, sure. But my dinner was a pork chop. I’m serious.

Anyway, a friend of mine goes to school with me and she tells me that for the past 9 weeks she’s been parking at school and she doesn’t buy a ticket because she figures that the stall has been paid for for the day. And she hasn’t gotten a ticket so far, so she figures her logic is sound. So when I decided to park at school, that was my thought process.

However, when I parked, I realized that would be dishonest, so I should just pay for a ticket. But I had like 50 cents in cash and parking is $4. I could put it on my VISA, but that seems like an ordeal and I’m running late, so I’ll just throw caution to the wind and go to class. Afterwards, I come out and see a little something on my windshield. Dammit.

I owe $57.70 for parking illegally; $47.10 if I pay within 7 days. All that because I was running short on time (heaven forbid I’m almost late for class!) and didn’t have cash. I did go there with the intent to park illegally, but then the guilt brought me down and I was going to pay, but all those other circumstances forced me to be dishonest. Bam!! Spite-God-Powers initiated.

Moral of the story, it’s a bit easier (and cheaper) just to fricken pay. Why? Because there won’t always be a nice skytrain cop at the top that’s willing to accept “I’m drunk” as a reason for dishonesty.

Big thanks to “EliseArt” for providing illustrations