At heart

Stupid effing pinky finger.

Is spontaneity lost with age? Do you have to be young in order to be reckless? A child to have hopes and dreams? Naive to be optimistic?

How do you argue the truth? How do you debate against responsibility? When the pros and cons weigh in, how do you begin to sway the unbalanced scale? How do you convince the answer to be grey when it's evidently black?

What is the worth of a loved one's smile?
...

"Where is Your Heart? - Kelly Clarkson

I don't believe
In the smile that you leave
When you walk away
And say goodbye
Well I don't expect
The world to move underneath me
But for God's sake
Could you try?
I know that you're true to me
You're always there
You say you care
I know that you want to be mine

Where is your heart?
'Cause I don't really feel you
Where is your heart?
What I really want is to believe you
Is it so hard
To give me what I need?
I want your heart to bleed
That's all I'm asking for
Oh, where is your heart?

I don't understand
Your love is so cold
It's always me that's reaching out
For your hand
And I've always dreamed
That love would be effortless
Like a petal fallin' to the ground
A dreamer followin' his dream

It seems so much is left unsaid
So much is left unsaid
But you can say anything
Oh, anytime you need
Baby, it's just you and me

Song of the Moment: "If I Fell" - The Beatles

If I fell in love with you
Would you promise to be true
And help me understand
'Cause I've been in love before
And I found that love was more
Than just holding hands

If I give my heart to you
I must be sure
From the very start
That you would love me more than her

If I trust in you oh please
Don't run and hide
If I love you too oh please
Don't hurt my pride like her
Cos I couldn't stand the pain
And I would be sad if our new love was in vain

So I hope you see that I
Would love to love you
And that she will cry
When she learns we are two
Cos I couldn't stand the pain
And I would be sad if our new love was in vain

So I hope you see that I
Would love to love you
And that she will cry
When she learns we are two
If I fell in love with you
...

Listening to the "Across the Universe" soundtrack, it turns out this is such a deceivingly beautiful song.

Last one

It's so much easier to do the things you're not good at--the things you don't like to do--when you're doing them for someone else.

Growing pains

Am I crazy? When did love stop being so romantic? When did being in love mean heart-aches all the time? When did love begin to instate bouts of insomnia, curable only by exhausting tears? When, love?

When it gets to that point, does that mean you're in love, or does it mean you should be out of it? No longer high-school rules, you're forced to consider, think, mull over, analyze and calculate what love is; but that's not what love is about. My heart still yearns for the romantic--the mornings filled with flowers and the evenings scattered with petals. I can catch glimpses of such, but they're ever elusive and never consistent. Promises of futures that have always been too far away. Novels dwindled into stories shortened to paragraphs abbreviated into sentences leaving only the skeletons of words. He who fights for her who wants nothing more but to come back.

Perhaps my biggest mistake is having grown up still believing in fairytales, dreams come true, and happily ever after.

But to not believe means you've given up; I'd never forgive myself for giving up on love.

Sandler?

    "'It's always in the last place you look.' Well, of course it's always in the last place you look--once you've found it, you don't have to look anymore, idiot."

I think that line was circulated in an email ages ago, quoted from a comedian's act--maybe Adam Sandler or the likes. But it fits.

I swear I looked *there* a million times...

...I found my camera. Still no name, but I'm happy to have her back. And just as I'd just given her up for lost, and had almost resigned myself to "having" to buy a new SLR for myself.

In this house

Somehow, Brodder and I got onto the topic of how the strangest things happen in our home. I think it had something to do with the idea of stumbling onto scenes at random--like the night he walked into the living room to find Boo and I on our backs, stretching out our shoulder blades; or the afternoons you could walk into the kitchen to find mother doing the "flinging water" tai-chi stance, full-strength.

Anyhoo...

    "So, the other day, I'm doing stuff upstairs while mom and dad are cleaning out all the crap in the basement. I think they started because I threw a bag of reject stuff down there and they wanted to sort through it before getting rid of it. Anyway, I'm doing my thing, and I hear this *pop* sound. Just like that: *pop*...*pop*...*pop*... So I walk downstairs to check it out...and find dad standing there, wearing a yamaka, a harmonica in one hand, and a cap-gun in the other. *pop*...*pop*...*pop*"

Needless to say, I was on the floor laughing.

Mega-lost

*sob*

I can't find my camera... :'( I didn't name her like I did Jenny, but that doesn't mean I don't love her as much.

Last seen: taking footage of hitting practice Thursday night...and I TOLD myself to make sure I put it somewhere safe. I KNOW I did, but now it's just so safe even I can't find it.

*sob*

Quote of the Moment:

    "Failure's hard, but success is far more dangerous. If you're successful at the wrong thing, the mix of praise and money and opportunity can lock you in forever."
    --Po Bronson

Absolutely. It's called "getting comfortable." It's the bane of many young workers who get comfortable in their first jobs because they get good at it, the pay's alright, and really, who wants to look for a new job when you don't need one? While it took me 6 years to leave my first job, I also had at least 2 or 3 other jobs while working there. Now, despite fear of failure, I've ventured into this job at which I'm still working myself in to. I'm learing as much as I can about anything I can. While people strive to get into their work and get comfortable in their positions, I dread the day that that content falls over me; I fear the day is coming too soon.

If it were easy, everybody would be doing it.

Talk about clocks

After this weekend, having been to a friend's housewarming and then to my cousin's new place for dinner, I'm overwhelmed with the idea of buying a house. That's not to say that the idea daunts me or intimidates me--not in the least; it's that now all I can THINK of is buying a house. Site after site, link after link, specs after specs...I'm in over my head with all of this excess information about real estate in the GTA (because heaven forbid I move to Mississauga or the likes. And the calculations!

If the property costs x dollars and I have y dollars for a down payment, that leaves z to be mortaged, coming to be about b per month.

And then the realization.

Faaaaaaack.

But I want it.

The way it should be

Met him on Sunday
Loved him by Tuesday afternoon
Woke up on Friday
Changed my whole life to make some room.
    --"Everyday is a Holiday (With You)," Esthero
...

The song itself is just so bright and bouncy, you feel like you're in love too. Just what I needed to get me through the last bit of this shortened week Wednesday. Well, some love of my own couldn't hurt either...

More power to the left

My office desk setup is now sure to drive any stranger crazy should they sit down and try to use it. Already my officemates are disgruntled at the fact that I had chosen to go out and buy myself a natural form keyboard that’s not only curved and split down the middle, but also propped up on a rest that angles all the keys away from the user. If ever given the choice to use anyone else’s computer, no one ever chooses mine.

Now, to make it even MORE aggravating to foreigners to my workspace, I’ve decided to try to make my keyboard/mouse setup more ergonomic. With the number-pad and the mouse to the right side of my keyboard, I find that I have to keep shifting myself a little to the left when I’m ready to type. While I’ve seen keyboards online that fix this problem by having the keypad on the left of the alpha-keys, I don’t want to have to buy another keyboard (out of pocket!), and I don’t think that my left-hand is actually smart enough to have any accuracy with punching numbers.

And so, I’ve switched my mouse to the left side of my keyboard, and actually, this is working out quite well. Not only is my workspace more centred (I don’t have to shift back and forth between clicking and typing), but now I can tell when someone comes along to touch my stuff!

“Alright, WHO moved my mouse BACK to the right side of my keyboard?!”

It’s already happened once so far...

Yes, I am a nerd. I am a nerd and proud. I am a nerd, I am proud, and I am ergonomic!!!

Scaramouche runs rampant

I was thinking how sweet it might be to be given a pet name as bizarrely unique as Scaramouche (à la We Will Rock You), but then I discovered that besides being the name of a French restaurant, Scaramouche was (is) the name of a roguish buffoon character and was all disappointed. But then I continued reading and learned that the novel of the same name started with a great line: "He was born with a gift of laughter and a sense that the world was mad" and all was redeemed.

99.8% of the nicknames people have given me are all derivatives of my actual name, either first or last.

In the last 6 months, I have almost written as much and more than I have written in entire years of my blogging career. Funny how easily you can agree to run away with your dreams when the right inspiration hits you. Also funny how what inspires me also pulls me away from my writing sometimes. You don't hear me complaining though.

Level up.

I want to read and write and perhaps do a bit of house work. While the witching hours never kept me at bay before, I suddenly find myself comfortable in my own bed, the idea of sleep winning over any of my usual nocturnal compulsions. I'm amazed at how a person's habits can change with just the right type of persuasion.

I am falling asleep pondering the notion that everything happens for a reason; every meeting has its purpose; every action causes a reaction. I will dream, wondering of what tomorrow may bring.

Office Tip of the Day:

When taking a nap at your desk, turn the screen-saver off so that the flying MicroSoft flags aren't a dead giveaway of extended idling. Also, you should try to keep your sleep twitches to a minimum so that should you be clutching your mouse during a spasm, it does not fly up into the air only to clatter excruciatingly loudly onto your keyboard--also a dead giveaway.

High-backed executive office chairs definitely do not help the cause of trying to stay conscious. Neither does the white-noise whine of a full office of computers.

Definitely makes the list

Ahhh...lunch break. These are totally, retardedly, me.

And while I'm sharing, here's the 100 Must-Read Books: The Essential Man’s Library. Funny enough, I own and have read about a third of all of these already...I think I'll chalk it up to wanting to know more about rare species. :)

Down the lane

Two pieces of what seems to be a past life of mine collided today and so I spent the rest of my evening reminiscently peering over my shoulder. Conversations melted into comments morphed through links meandered through photos mused through profiles. Did everyone grow up? Did I stay the same? Did I fail to notice? When mother smartly pointed out that I was being overly nostalgic, I agreed but didn't care. Regardless of how I'd been introduced to them, of how we were related, they were more than just people to me once; they were friends.

They were all the same familiar faces, just as warm, fun, and friendly as I remembered them. I was happy to see that though some relationships had come to an end, most had stayed together and a few had even become engaged after a period of coming around eight years. Eight years...where does the time go? And still, I love the idea that even after so long, even after such a long absence, even after such a loosely knit acquaintance, the pieces can still come together and click, just as they always did.

Happy Anniversary to you too, Shopaholic!

Oh, boys...

    "I'm going for a run."
    "You have to go poo?"
    "No, a run."
    "You're going to do errands?"
    "No, I'm going for a run."
    "You mean, like, jogging?"
    "Yes."
    "Oh, okay."

Commitment made comical

Brodder introduced this to me. It's my innate fear of serious relationships and commitment put into pictures and words in a hilariously morbid way.

Because really, how do you know?

So she says

    "I just want to put him in my pocket, take him home, and do naughty things to him!" she said to me about the bartender mixing our drinks for us. I laughed. Despite her little crush on him, why was it that her crass humour was all lost when she finally spoke a line to him as he was spraying down the bar with a strong cleanser at the end of the night?
    "I can smell that, you know."
...

    "Seriously, what were you thinking when you said that?"
    "Honestly? 'Smooooooooooth.'"

Means of Communication

On your way in, you pass your friend on the way out. A brief eye-contact and a mumbled exchange is your casual greeting. The moment past, you close the door, only to notice that your friend left something slightly personal behind. How do you let said friend know discreetly enough so that no one else will find out? Text message of course.

You left a floater.

Quotes of my Moment:

Quotes from The Mexican:

    "I have to ask you a question. It's a good one so think about it. If two people love each other, but they just can't seem to get it together, when do you get to that point of enough is enough?"
    "Never."
...

    "A lot of people are under the impression that you get to choose who you love."
...

A while ago, I wrote a single sentence claiming that "You can't choose your family, but you can choose who you spend your life with," and yet here I am agreeing with the fact that you can't choose who you love either. But it's true.

When you find love, it hits you like a runaway train and the best you can do if you survive the initial impact, is hang on tight for the ride. Because when you find that love--insofar as it finds you--it doesn't matter what sort of trials or tribulations you're going to encounter. It could feel like the entire universe is conspiring to keep you apart, and yet you're still going to be in love. Love may not be all that you need, but sometimes it's all you've got. And try as you might to cut and run, you'll only find yourself turning around and sprinting right back to the one from which you came.

You don't choose who you love. You can't control how your heart aches after them. You can try to convince yourself otherwise; you can try to marry someone you don't love, or you can try to run from the one you do, but in the end, you're only fooling yourself. No matter how well you cover up that fact, you're still going to know, and even if you're the only one to know that, it's going to ache just as badly as if everyone had tried to fool you, because you've only betrayed yourself.

Life isn't fair. Love isn't easy. If it were easy, everyone would be doing it.
...

Continuing with Quoting Love
    "And then there's an invisible, unexplainable gravity between two people, or as I like to describe it: the inability to walk away from one another regardless of how logically 'retarded' the situation may seem."

(I'll cite the source once I'm granted permission to.)

What's the point in running away when you know you're just going to be coming right back? When you're in love, you not only revert to the feelings you felt in high school but you become the restlessly impossible child that runs away every other weekend, only to return before the week begins again with the sullen admission that you could never have gotten very far on your own anyway.

Song of the Moment: "Come Undone" - Di Johnston

Your eyes are closed and I don't wanna wake you
I won't whisper in your ear
All the places that I wanna take you
When you're finally here

These days alone have made me stronger
All these hours apart more brave
But the truth is I am my own weakness
I am here for you to save

I can't sleep without you
I'm coming undone
When I sleep without you
I'm tossing and turning all night

With my eyes open I lie thinking
There's the dawn outside draws nigh
I know it's wrong but I can't help it
Wishing time would pass me by
So you'll be at my side

I can't sleep without you
I'm coming undone
When I sleep without you
I'm tossing and turning all night

It's the nightmares I'm afraid of
Please help me know
That no matter how far I am
Your soul won't let mine go

I can't sleep without you
I'm coming undone
When I sleep without you
I'm tossing and turning all night

I can't sleep without you

Shriekingly Silly Segueways After a Second Cup

save me
from the shrieking baby.
i'm gonna go crazy.


RE: save me

You'll survive. You rock. I rule. :D

Sing the Koodo theme to yourself to drown out the sound. That'll make you feel better...


love it.

that's the most awesomest tshirt. i wish i could wear those tshirts at work now..dammit!!
koodo..
koodo..
so you remember the guy i worked with? the "hey hey you you, i don't like your girlfriend" guy?
turns out that he knows the boys i grew up with going to church and stuff - and some other boys of family friends..weird..small world.


RE: love it.
Bwahahahahahahahahaha

Next time I see these shirts in the states, it's all about you. We're never going to kick the graphic-tee thing.

Small world and it just keeps shrinking.

Did you feel better after you sang the song? I know I felt better seeing it. Ahhhhhhhhhhhh. I taught the girls about the whole dark roast=taste, light roast=caffeine thing. It was fun. Then they made fun of me about how I was limping last week when I wore your shoes. Dammit.


segueway?
so i'm here by myself until 1pm. sucks ass. cuz it usually gets busy around 12. isn't that great?
my 12 o'clock relief called in sick. can't begrudge her - she's in the hospital right now.
but still.
lol.
and soooooo sorry about my shoes busting up your feet last week. they feel fine for me. but like i said, i just have messed up feet, and the callouses are already there from my steel toe boots. hot.
so where's the segueway between telling the fun story about dark/medium roast and making fun of your poor limping feet last week?


RE: segueway?


Segueway? Who needs those? George Bush managed to tip one, did you hear that?

Hospital? Definitely not allowed to begrudge. Lutka just short of stripped me in the office just now, because I asked her to check (through the NECK!) if there was a stray hair straggling down the back of my shirt on the inside. Lovely. There are so many women in this office you can practically TASTE the estrogen when you walk in.

That and there are PMS pills scattered all over the place. Bodner's a walking pharmacy for women.


tipped?
he managed to tip the untippable segueway? only dubya.
and tell lutka only i'm allowed to strip you. that and the pink flower guy.
lol.
mmmmm, estrogen...yummmmmay.


RE: tipped?
Yup, only dubya. Boss said that he tried one once at a mall, and try as he might, he could NOT tip it! To re-iterate: only dubya.

I just intercommed Lutka to tell her what you said--she said she'd fight for me. I think we can make money off of this event. Money off of Golddawg at least. Hahahaha.

Is it 5:30 yet?


my money's on the mom
just cuz kids are tough to deal with..and lord knows i don't know how to handle them.

as for dubya - i'll bet the segueway tipped good ol' georgie because it didn't want the dumbass to make segueways look stupid.


RE: my money's on the mom
Bwahahahaha. I dunno, I have faith in your viciousness. Take it as a compliment. :)

Doesn't tipping him make him make them look stupid? That's too glass half full/empty for me to think about today. I'm just whiling down the hours until the day's over and I get to see y'all who I LURVE again|! Vomitus, I know, but you were included in the lurrrrrve count, just so you know.


my coffee isn't working
who knows about what looks stupider: the segueway or dubya. either way, we know for sure one half of that duo is stupid.
as for my viciousness, i do take it as a compliment. booyaka...sha!

so vomitus, but i'll take it.
i'm easy like that. i'll just take the love wherever it's being handed out. does that make me a...lurvve slut?

ps: the subject title- just to prove it, i had misspelled coffee and had noticed it just before i was about to send it.


RE: my coffee isn't working
When I pick you up today, can you just climb in the car and say that: Booyaka...sha! :D

Stupid is as stupid does. And he did. OOOOOOH did he DO.

To be a lurvve slut, you have to be the one handing it out for free. I think that's the way it goes anyway. To be the one who loves to accept free things, I think that makes you a lurvve Lush. Yeah? Accepts the free lurve and gets high off it and easy to manipulate?

This morning's coffee run was the best of them all.

In the Office

Handfuls of these were being passed around the other day; there's a full complement of females at the office, and well, we apparently share everything.
...

"You know you've got it bad when your best friend tells you you do."
...


I sent a pat on the back...


...and got the Pinky Finger of Logic in return.

    "BWahahahahaha! I didn't realize your hands were so hairy!"
    "hey can you send me my hand......I never got to see it..."
    "Loser." *attaches image*
    "wow....the hairs do show up....I'm definitely surprised....hey do you need a hand? HAHAHAHAHAHAA!!!!!"
    "I repeat: Loser. Hahahahahahahhahahahahaha."
(the emails may not exactly have gone like that, but I'm at home without the originals now...and my version's probably better anyway.)

**UPDATE - the emails are now correct...and to be honest, I wasn't very far off the mark! *pat on back* :)
...

Having had Indian food that night with her new boyfriend, she was conscious of the fact that she had to hold in any gas building up inside all night; the relationship was still a little too new for her to be so comfortable with her bodily functions around him yet. When they finally climbed into bed, she was relieved; aside from some mild stomach discomfort, she'd made it through the night without letting anything slip. In the middle of the night, not long after they'd fallen asleep, she was rudely snapped out of her slumber--by the sound of her own fart! Horrified, she turned to her boyfriend to find him still peacefully asleep. Further relieved by then to find that he'd not been awakened by the same thing that had woken her, she (still slightly embarrassed) slipped back to sleep.

After a spell of time had passed, she shared this amusing story with a co-worker of hers. To her amusement, not only did her co-worker convince her it wasn't a big deal, her co-worker returned with a story of her own!

In her recollection, she had also just begun a new relationship, and, similar to her situation, had climbed into bed with her new beau after an evening of mild stomach discomfort, credited to a probable build-up of gas. However, her co-worker hadn't quite been alarmed at this build-up since the blanket she shared with her beau was described to be heavy and sure to muffle any moderate passings of gas. However, somehow through the night her co-worker had managed to roll over so that she slept on her side and the comforter covered everything but her back, and, consequently, her rear. And so, when the moment happened that she woke herself by farting exquisitely loudly, there was nothing to muffle it and she panicked because it was so startlingly loud AND her beau STIRRED in his sleep next to her. Absolutely mortified, she pretended to have slept through the entire event, and ever had the courage to peek (or later ask) if her beau had been woken.

In a fit of giggles by now, they discussed their situations.

    "Seriously, Indian food wasn't a good idea--I'm just so glad my boyfriend slept through it all!"
    "It's been a while now though, hasn't it happened yet? I mean, aren't you guys comfortable with that sort of thing?"
    "Not just yet. I mean, I guess one day it's bound to happen that we'll fart in front of each other, but the first time won't be after Indian food. And just be glad that even if your beau heard you do that that night, he didn't get up and make a big deal out of it or make fun of you for it."
    "Yeah, I guess. I guess he could be sweet, or now he thinks I'm just some strange girl that saves it all the time and just farts explosively in her sleep."
...

The words just had to come out...I was on such a roll of sleeping early too...

My moments

Sometimes, so that I'll have a copy of things at home, I'll use my Gmail account to send such things to myself. Soon after I click send, I'll think to myself: "that's done and done," and go on about my work. Moments later I'll see I have new email in my Gmail inbox and since I LOVE getting email, I'll be thrilled to go and check...only to realize it's the same damned email I just sent myself.

Everyone has their moments, and this is one of mine. It's mine every time I send myself an email. Every time.

In a situation

Last Wednesday, I received a beautiful bouquet of a dozen pink roses, the sender's name absent from the card. Since then, it has been the mystery of the office. For me, I've just been content. While it would be lovely to be able to share with all of the girls the identity of my sender, I'm happy with keeping him to myself and just having the fact that they made me smile that day. They made me smile, they made me blush, they set me daydreaming for the rest of the afternoon. They made me believe in romance again.

Just the night previous to receiving the flowers, I'd been a hair's breadth away from musingly posting the following song:

"Soulmate" - Natasha Bedingfield

Incompatible, it don't matter though
'cos someone's bound to hear my cry
Speak out if you do
You're not easy to find

Is it possible Mr. Loveable
Is already in my life?
Right in front of me
Or maybe you're in disguise

Who doesn't long for someone to hold
Who knows how to love you without being told
Somebody tell me why I'm on my own
If there's a soulmate for everyone

Here we are again, circles never end
How do I find the perfect fit
There's enough for everyone
But I'm still waiting in line

Most relationships seem so transitory
They're all good but not the permanent one

Who doesn't long for someone to hold
Who knows how to love you without being told
Somebody tell me why I'm on my own
If there's a soulmate for everyone
...

Who doesn't long for someone to hold? Maybe he's right in front of me. If you are, thank you for the flowers.

Priorities...

...want...to...blog...over...coming...need...to...take...care...of...responsibilities...

"First comes the ring clock, then comes the baby clock."

Quote of the Moment:

"It is human nature to think wisely and act in an absurd fashion."
    --Anatole France