Oh, I am this bored.

2008 in Review:

1. What did you do in 2008 that you'd never done before?
I travelled outside of Canada and the U.S.. Got out from under my former manager's thumb.

2. Did you keep your new years' resolutions, and will you make more for next year?
I don't remember making any last year; I usually don't.

3. Did anyone close to you give birth?
Yes, a few of them. Damn reproducers.

4. Did anyone close to you die?
Yes, my Grandpa.

5. What countries did you visit?
Cuba, the United States.

6. What would you like to have in 2009 that you lacked in 2008?
My masters' degree. Less debt.

7. What date from 2008 will remain etched upon your memory, and why?
I can't believe I didn't think of this first -- November 21, date we signed the papers to buy our first house.

8. What was your biggest achievement of the year?
Finishing the research paper at the same time as buying and moving into the new house. Oh yeah, I like to stack all of my stresses together at once.

9. What was your biggest failure?
Scraping my dad's car against another, resulting in some good damage... and holy shit, I just realized I forgot to pay my ticket on that. Fuck.

10. Did you suffer illness or injury?
Just colds.

11. What was the best thing you bought?
The Dear Boyfriend's love. Or a house.

12. Whose behavior merited celebration?
The DB and I, for moving without any fighting whatsoever. His cousin and friend, for helping us move (again), without any complaints.

13. Whose behavior made you appalled and depressed?
My own, for a few epic breakdowns (though there was only the one when we moved, so that was awesome). A friend or two, for stuff I won't put here.

14. Where did most of your money go?
Bills, debts, the house.

15. What did you get really, really, really excited about?
Buying the house (notice a theme?), although I'm honestly still a bit mellow about that. It'll sink in when I have to pay something major on it. Finishing the research paper, though again, I'm mellow -- it ain't done until I see the official statement that it's been accepted by all the right peeps.

16. What song will always remind you of 2008?
No clue.

17. Compared to this time last year, are you:
i. happier or sadder? Happier overall.
ii. thinner or fatter? Oh, fatter, certainly.
iii. richer or poorer? Richer and poorer; higher salary take-home, slightly increased expenses.

18. What do you wish you'd done more of?
Sleeping, crafting, focusing on school and debt repayment.

19. What do you wish you'd done less of?
Spending on stupid things, slacking off.

20. How will you be spending Christmas?
I went home for Christmas.

22. Did you fall in love in 2008?
I didn't fall, but it certainly grew. Little moments help -- like last night's kindnesses, despite my initial crabbiness (though I did try to keep a lid on most of it).

23. How many one-night stands?

24. What was your favorite TV program?
CSI, House, Reaper, ER and sort of Pushing Daisies.

25. Do you hate anyone now that you didn't hate this time last year?
Naw, I'm too tired to hate anyone new. Doesn't stop me from getting pissed off at people, though.

26. What was the best book you read?
Most of the stand-outs I think I read in years past. I'm sure I read something this time around I loved, but I can't recall.

27. What was your greatest musical discovery?
My musical tastes declined this year, so I'm not sure I want to share. I've been listening to a lot of crap the last few months, mainly because it keeps me up and going. Otherwise, I'd say perhaps Symphony No. 3 'Organ', 4th Movement" by Saint-Saëns.

28. What did you want and get?
The end of my research paper, the house, a flat-screen tv (I'm shallow, shut up), my books unpacked and organized (still in progress).

29. What did you want and not get?
Some people know the answer to this. All in good time.

30. What was your favorite film of this year?
Iron Man.

31. What did you do on your birthday, and how old were you?
I'm now an ancient 28, and I threw a barbecue on one of the few nice days in August at our first place.

32. What one thing would have made your year immeasurably more satisfying?
Confirmation I graduated, vindication against my past enemies, possibly the answer to a previous question.

33. How would you describe your personal fashion concept in 2008?
It classed up a bit work-wise, now that I've cut back on my jeans. Outside of work, it varied between lazy-slob (at home in the evenings) and cover-up-the-fat-oh-god-there's-so-much-of-it.

34. What kept you sane?
The DB, the cats, leaving my last job.

35. Which celebrity/public figure did you fancy the most?
I've reignited my love of Dean Cain.

36. What political issue stirred you the most?
The Canadian election, since I monitored it fairly closely through work.

37. Who did you miss?
Some of my friends who moved away ages ago and suck at keeping in touch.

38. Who was the best new person you met?
The majority of my coworkers are pretty great. I hit it off with a classmate pretty well.

39. Tell us a valuable life lesson you learned in 2008:
If you don't think you have enough space to move the car somewhere, you probably don't. Treasure your family and/or friends, they can disappear in an instant. Someone who can stand you through some pretty epic breakdowns is probably going to stick by you for the long haul -- provided they're the exception and not the norm, I would assume. Kitties are cute and funny.


Dear person sending me work,

There is no point in telling me that you don't need something posted until next week when the email below yours indicates that the text hasn't been sent to you because it is not yet final.

It's all well and good to tell me that 'next week is fine,' but I hate to break it to you -- updates to the Intranet are not something I'm waiting on tenterhooks to do.

I don't know why, some of this just rubs me funny.

Also, I'm wondering if the summer is too soon to go back to school. I may have a sickness.


I've come to the conclusion that my cats may be slightly spoiled, and they may know this, too.

I was looking for candles the other day, and came across the pyjama string that, for many months, represented Venus' favourite ever toy (though the laser pointer comes close to tying it). She has now taken to demanding play time in both her passive and aggressive ways; either by sitting by it, staring at it, until someone caves and starts playing with her, or by telling you that she wants you to play through varying commands. She also loves to sit on my lap desk while I'm trying to cross stitch, thereby blocking me from seeing the pattern and ensuring that I can't really do much other than pat her.

Then there's Thena. In the mornings when I shower, I don't bother closing the door all the way. Thena generally comes in sometime between when I get in the shower and when I shut the water off, and she's perched on the lid of the toilet waiting for me. While I do my morning preparations, she likes to climb into the sink and lie down in it, meaning I can't do anything that involves water (like washing my hands after doing my hair). However, the previous owners did put some kind of directional spout addition on the tap, so I can point it slightly away from her and fill a glass at least. Anyhow, I'm convinced Thena knows how unlikely I am to disrupt her, because the other day she was in the sink with the smuggest expression on her face... although this is the same cat that twisted her head upside down and stared at me with her tongue sticking out, so maybe I'm giving her too much credit.

And for the record, I'm not the only one that spoils the beasts; the DB said last night that he hoped Venus would give him more leg room in bed. When I suggested he could push her off the bed, he said that would be mean -- which is usually my response, but clearly I am turning him to the dark side as well.

That all sounded better last night when I was thinking about it. I fail at entertaining writing.

Anyhow, work this month has been crazy. I've logged over 20 hours of overtime in less than three weeks, and that's nothing compared to many of my coworkers. I took some of the time in leave and some in pay, and I was going to possibly use the money to pay for an iPod Touch, but I'm going to simply put it towards the new flat-screen television we purchased the other day. It's nothing terribly over the top or fancy; there was a good deal via the DB's store for Sony Bravias, so we opted to go for the middle one, 37". It fits nicely in the living room without looking ridiculously large, and now that I have HD cables, it looks good. The cables themselves were discount ($10 marked down to $4), so the quality is lacking overall, but they'll do for now.

Otherwise, Christmas was a pretty decent time. I was apparently rather lacking in sleep, since I'm pretty sure that's all I did every chance I got. We have a small sitting area set up in/off the kitchen (it makes sense if you see the arrangement) near the fireplace, and I spent many hours sitting in our laz-y-boys with the laptop, the fire going, and more often than not, a Thena sitting on the foot rest. I'm choosing to believe that my narcolepsy was out of need and not gas leaking, and it was quite lovely.

I also brought out the cross-stitching again, and I've been working on a Christmas towel (with about 10 minutes left of backstitching to do before it's finished), and an overall larger piece that I've had for some time. Combined with the Reaper season 1 box set I picked up after Christmas and the reading light from the floor lamp, and I'm usually quite content. At least until Venus comes along and sits on the pattern.

In other news, I hate twitter. I hate that some of my friends have resorted to doing twitter updates in lieu of actual detailed updates that provide context. I'm sure I'm thrilled for you that you're stuck in traffic, but what am I to do with this exiting tidbit? How about the twitter updates that are directed at someone else -- thanks for sharing, I'm sure, but why not simply text message or call that person directly? I don't know, it's your blog, do with it what you will, but at the same time... I just don't see the point. Then again, maybe that's because I use way too many words to say something simple.

"My cats are spoiled. I slept a lot over the holidays. I'm crafting. @bob: OMG that's so unbelievable that she did that."

"At concert. Musician is awesome and loud! Can't wait to post pictures. Stupid person is stupid."

Woo Twitter.

My city is in day 20 of its transit strike (yes, I just gave away my city and location. Stalk on, you crazy four fans of mine, three of whom live in my city already), and it's driving me insane. I actually had a dream a few nights ago that I was back on my regular express route and having a conversation with one of the regulars. I've had sad dreams before, but that's a good one.

They're saying in the news today that they might get Ambrose and Baird to use their federal powers to force a vote from the union on the city's last proposal; the only thing is, even if the drivers do go ahead and vote, there's no guarantee that they'll accept the proposal. It's a ridiculous pissing match between a businessman-turned-bureaucrat who has probably never ridden a bus in his life, who is, according to reports, anti-union (and appears to be ridiculously bullheaded) and the unions, who have not done well in the PR battle.

I support the drivers in this battle, but my pocketbook is hurting. The nearest parking lot to me is $18/day (higher if I'm there past 6 p.m.), and that doesn't include the cost of gas, the stress of the drive in heavy traffic, and the stress of driving in bad weather conditions -- of which there have been many this week. Sure, when I'm driving I don't have to wait for connections, but I don't exactly enjoy the thrill of sliding on icy or snowy roads or driving in first gear. Not to mention, I know the DB isn't exactly thrilled about having to lend me his car for days on end -- especially on days when I'm stuck at work late. Add to that my inability to do anything downtown after work because I have to get back home before the DB's day is over, and it's not exactly a blast anywhere.

I didn't vote for the mayor, and I think after his huge mishandling of last year's snowclearing, and this year's transit battle, he isn't likely to see another term. I hope he isn't going to see another term. Though I have to admit, I can't recall another mayor who had as many pejorative nicknames as this guy has... that at least has been entertaining.

I've been spending a lot of time these holidays catching up on the Comics Curmudgeon website. There are some great bits in there, if you haven't ever read the site. I only have a few minor grumbles about it, but one of the major ones is that I now want to add Mary Worth and Apartment 3-G to my daily lineup so I can keep up with the storylines when he doesn't talk about them. It's also leading me to want to go and critique For Better or For Worse, especially the reimagined strips that were published after everyone's story tied up... some of them really do show she hated her husband early on. Of course, I doubt that I could do as well as Josh does, so it's unlikely to be something I do regularly (especially as I dropped the strip in frustration some time ago).

I was going to go on about passive-aggressive tendencies in relationships and my frustrations with some of my friendships at the moment, but I think I've blathered enough. I don't even have anything exciting to report on my paper, though I will probably be hosting it as a pdf for those of you who really want to read through it once it gets approved. Thrill to my mastery of the academic language, and glory as I try to shoehorn in references to semiotics, Jung, and Joseph Campbell!


I'll be more verbose later, but for now, Merry Christmas everyone.


Well, I don't know what it says about me, but before heading out for the fire alarm, I locked up the ATIP package I was examining. Clearly, I am a public servant.


Ah, progress. Progress is my middle name -- re-elect Mayor Goldie Wilson.

Erm, sorry. I'd been wanting to watch Back to the Future again recently, so the DB and I had thrown it on Sunday night to watch with dinner. Family Guy actually referenced it at one point, so it had been stuck in my head for awhile thereafter, and I have to say, I still have lines and their deliveries memorized. I was nice and didn't quote as we watched, though.

I think what keeps me watching Family Guy is twofold; one, to see what new shocking thing they'll try, and two, to see what other pop culture reference they'll make. Say what you will about Seth MacFarlane, he enjoys musicals and drops references to them in his show regularly enough to keep me entertained... or the opening credit sequence that spoofs Police Squad. Sure, the show is regularly fairly goofy, and the plot usually veers off into a totally different direction from where it started, but there are some neat throwaway references that I can appreciate. There are also some gags they beat into the ground, like the chicken fight, or the knee gasping, or the ipecac... but at the same time, I loved the Vaudeville guys, and I'm sure they weren't everyone's favourite.

I also love whenever Adam West appears on the show, 'cause he gets the most ridiculous things to say, and the man does it. While I don't watch American Dad, I love that Patrick Stewart appears on it and also says goofy-ass stuff.

I have no idea why I just went off on Family Guy as long as I did. I'm simply enjoying some peace and quiet for a change, I think.

I did the first draft of changes to the paper last night and sent it back to the prof. The end is in sight, provided he's okay with what I've done. I may have to add more, but I'm hopeful... urgh. My classmate has been pretty awesome through this experience, and I'm thinking of picking her up a small gift for the holidays as a token of thanks. She's Jewish, so if I can do something that has an 8 theme (or even 8 of something) and related to school, I'm golden. Hannukah starts pretty late this year (December 22nd, I just checked), so that also gives me some time to think about this.

Anyhow, we haven't done any more unpacking since the weekend of madness. The DB's parents were in town from Friday to Sunday, and we had a fairly nice visit. We went out shopping Saturday afternoon and bought our washer and dryer set (the washer was the Christmas gift from them), and those will be delivered this Saturday -- due to the delay, Sunday the DB did some laundry at the old house before we returned the keys and bought some new bedding (which we can't wash until the weekend). Apparently they don't do much in the way of set-up, so I just hope that the damn things are on wheels or something so that we can move them around.

This Saturday is also the DB's Christmas party, and Sunday the 14th is the dinner with my friends. The holidays this year look to be fairly quiet, which will be great. We get to spend Christmas Eve in our home together, and then Christmas Day we'll do presents and dinner with my parents, sister and her boyfriend.

It's one of the first years that I'm slow in buying Christmas gifts, but I'm not terribly concerned about it at this point. I've ordered the DB's main gift online, and in all honesty, I just don't have as many people to buy for this year as in years past. It's the DB, his parents, the sister and her boyfriend, my parents, my Nanny, my aunt Dorothy and my uncle Billy. Maybe I can get away with doing a lot of it online.


Just a quick one, since I still have some things I want to do today (like perhaps eat some breakfast), but... as vain as this is going to sound, I like the mix of abilities I have. For example, I just trouble-shot my internet connection (particularly my router issue), and I'm about to go bake some cookies. I've been decorating the new place with some of my pictures and artwork (finally!), and at some point soon, I have to go change the oil on my bike and get it properly ready for winter (although who knows what'll happen this season).

And I'm also finishing up my masters' paper, but that's more of a HUGE MAJOR STRESS than any real skill. What does it mean when December looks to be the most relaxing month in some time?

So yes, the big news -- we bought a house. We still have one bookcase to bring back (and I'm sure it was nothing subconscious on the DB's part that *that* got left behind), and a few small cleaning supplies, but otherwise, we are moved out of the old place. This place doesn't feel quite like *ours* yet, but it's always taken some time for me to get that to sink in whenever I move anyhow.

Fortunately, I've held my hysterical crying fits to a single one, shortly after I scraped another car with my dad's car. $1200 damage to Dad's car, about $500 to the other -- so really, I got lucky. Only paint transfer, nothing worse. Except for the ticket that I got when the other driver went through the police station because he was told to by his insurance... blah. Last time we moved, I spent about $600 on Venus when she got her UTI; this time around she got comfortable in the house a lot more quickly, but instead I get to spend on car work.

And we possibly get to pay the management company of our old place to repair some plaster damage to that house, done when we moved the couch out. The DB's dad might do it for us, since it's not a lot of work, but we'll see. The painter said if he can convince the management company to repaint the whole house, we won't have to pay for it. We'll still have to pay to have the carpets cleaned, but that was part of our lease agreement, not because of anything we did. Though I laughed when the agent called me to request that we vacuum the house and clean the appliances... my passive-aggressive side was tempted to respond with something like, "We fully intend to leave the place cleaner than when we got it" -- but of course she left me a message and I only thought of that cutting remark much later. It's rare I'm smart on short notice.

We'll be getting a washing machine and dryer this weekend, I believe; the washer is to be a Christmas gift from the DB's parents, and the dryer is to be our own investment. I'm not sure what we're getting, but I do hope I have a say in the selection. :/

I'm definitely glad that I took this week off from work, since I think I might've cracked otherwise. It's been a long week of pack/move/unpack/repeat ad nauseum. And then the late night trips over to clean. And then set up and unpack more. The place looks great, if only because three-quarters of our stuff is still in boxes. I'll be taking some pictures later that I'll probably post -- friends and relatives want to see the place, so I'm sure I can share them here, too.

The other fun part of this week was the mini-physical we underwent as part of our insurance coverage. I learned that I'm about 20lbs over what I thought I was... so soon the DB will have to start rolling me through doorways. I always said the diet/exercise regime was going to start in January, and if that number on the scale isn't incentive enough, I don't know what will be.

A shame, 'cause I do so love my goodies. :( And here I am, off to bake... 'cause that's how I roll. And leftovers go to the office.


Two days down, no fights of note and nothing broken (that I know of, at least). This is good, and shows we move well together.

Though I really do hope we won't be doing it again for some time yet.

I've gotten rid of a bag of clothes and about three-quarters of a box of books. My colleagues were kind enough to remove some of them (well, once I took them in to work), and the rest I'll perhaps try to sell on amazon or something, as well as the DVDs that I have duplicates of. I figure given that I work across the street from a post office (again), it can't be that hard to do.

Progress on the paper is going ... probably not quite as well as it could be, but certainly about as well as realistically expected. Let's face it; I am a procrastinator -- as is the DB, which is why we're packing as we're moving -- and I'm even procrastinating a bit from writing now. I've gotten about 3 pages of the 17-19 page analysis done, and something tells me it's going to run long. I feel as though there's so much I have to say, and when I try to think about how to fill the 17 pages, I can't do it, but when I get going writing, and then think about the other authors I've cited that I can throw in... suddenly 17 pages doesn't feel like nearly enough. I'm taking this to be a good thing -- it's just a matter of making the time between now and Wednesday to get it the fuck done.

I was originally scheduled to be off from work Wednesday-Friday for this move, but as it turns out we were doing most of it up front, so I booked off Monday and Tuesday as well. Monday I'll be on my own for hauling stuff, as the DB has to work, but I'm going to hopefully balance out moving, packing/unpacking and writing. If I only get stuff boxed up, that's not so bad. I should probably spend some time putting away some of my clothes, as there's currently a nice pile on the floor of my bedroom (as always).

Tuesday the boys will be coming over to do the major furniture, and aside from the monstrosity that is the couch, that shouldn't be too hard. It may take two or three trips, but given that we're really only going 2km at a time, it's very little hassle at all.

I've been trying to decide at what point I should bring the cats over, so as to minimize their stress as much as possible, and I've come to no real conclusions. Last time, Thena did fairly well, but Venus was a mess. So far, they've been handling the disruption well -- Venus has been a bit extra-sucky, but that's often the case when one or both of us is home all day anyhow. They haven't seemed terribly phased by the fact that things keep leaving. Last time I brought them over before we had a lot of the boxes and furniture in place, so it was very much a scary new place; I'm hoping that by having familiar things around them, even if the surroundings themselves are unfamiliar, it might minimize their overall stress... and the fact that it'll be the second move for Venus (and the third for Thena, the old pro), might help. If nothing else, we have a veterinary clinic at the end of our street now, and I'm off the rest of the week (aside from some miscellaneous appointments like hair, doctor, and cable/internet hookup).

At some point it'll sink in that this is ours (mine!), but not yet. I guess because I'm still living out of the old place and much of my stuff is still here... it's been 'fun' living out of the two locations, not that we're really living out of the second yet -- just missing things now and again. Like Saturday night, when we were trying to decide on dinner and talking about nachos... and realizing that if we were to make nachos, I'd have to remember to bring back one of my cookie sheets, since I'd already moved those over. Or talking about watching a movie (since the television in the living room has been moved), only to realize that all of the movies are at the new place ... although I did have a number from my trip to Nova Scotia for my grandfather's funeral, so we watched some of <em>Stranger Than Fiction</em> while soaking in the tub... and listening to Venus wander around outside, crying for attention, and dragging her feathers on a stick back and forth. So, business as usual around here.

I think I've just written more here than I have for my paper -- and it's a toss-up as to which is better. Back to it for a bit before bed. At least I remembered to grab my Maalox from the new place, as I don't feel up to waking up again in the middle of the night with acid/stomach pains. I guess I really am stressed, who'd a thunk it?


Though I know it's technically a misquote, I understand why Shakespeare called for death to all lawyers.


And here is how the DB complements me well.

I'm kind of a pushover when it comes to talking about money. I don't like to haggle and I don't like to negotiate. If I'm asking for a price for something I own, I will lower the price if it benefits the other person or if it seems I'm asking too much; by contrast, if I'm buying something from someone, I will offer more money if it seems to sway them.

The DB, on the other hand, has some 11 years experience in business, and feels more comfortable in these discussions it would seem.

Case in point -- when we gave notice to our management company that we intended to move out, they insisted we provide 60 days notice. Okay, fine. Then, they stated that even if we were to give notice on September 15th, for example, we would be held as tenants until November 30th; I think so that they wouldn't have to split rent months. Okay, fine. Annoying, but whatever.

However, this lack of willingness to negotiate on their part has meant that we've become a little more... shall we say, set in our ways on issues where they need us to do things. Property viewings to prospective tenants? No, those have be after 6:30 p.m., when one or both of us is available. A daytime showing is not acceptable -- after all, we both work 8-6 (give or take). I previously ranted about that situation, so I'll move on.

Next was a move-out viewing; they wanted to do Thursday the 20th -- well, we won't have started moving anything at that point, so how would Monday sound instead, when it's a bit easier to see things? I mean, we could have furniture blocking holes we've put in the walls (we don't, but it's possible). No problems. No, we won't insist that one of us has to be there, just please watch for the cats.

However, just now was a fun one. We have the property until November 30th, a Sunday. They don't get the property until 12:01 a.m. December 1st. The new tenants would like to start moving in on Saturday, November 29th -- is that doable for us? We'd change the utilities to reflect us stopping payment of them on the 28th instead, as the new folks would be responsible for them as of the 29th.

As always, I said I'd have to speak to the DB. I call him up, he's of the opinion that this isn't going to happen -- after all, they wouldn't let us out of our lease early, nuts to 'em. Will they give us back two days' worth of rent? We were going to use that weekend for cleaning -- do the new tenants want to do the cleaning instead?

I tell the DB I can call them up and just say we're still planning on using that weekend to move. I mean, hell, aside from the comment I made to the other property management person about how we're going to be doing some moving this weekend, as far as they know, we don't plan on budging a single possession before the 30th.

The DB, knowing my pushover tendencies, offered to call them up and talk to them about our options... after all, the previous tenants really didn't clean the place, and the management company didn't do anything about that. So, we'll see the outcome... I'm just glad it's him making that call and not me.


So. Freak-out time:

My deadline for submission, with supervisor's acceptance, of my research paper is December 1st.

We take possession of our new place November 21st, and we are moving from then until the end of the month (more or less). I'm off November 26th-28th (Wednesday-Friday).

I sent my professor my second chapter yesterday evening -- this one dealing with the research framework/methodology. I'd previously sent him my literature review, and he said he'd get back to me ASAP. These two sections form the groundwork for my analysis, which will comprise 17-19 pages; if they seriously suck, it's going to be a hella lot of work to replace (yes, this is how I write academically, too).

I got an 'Out of Office' reply to my email saying that my professor will be out of the office until November 25th.

So... I basically have to have everything to him before then (do-able) so that he can provide me with comments and notes that I can then take into consideration for re-writing my paper for December 1st. Arguable do-able.

If he hates it and I have to do a lot of re-writing? Challenge.

Extra-challenge? The appointment to switch the internet over is November 28th; so I may be sitting on the floor in an empty house for two days, writing on the laptop.

It's true, I didn't have enough stress before this... I'm so happy for this 'opportunity.'


Okay, so the following is a snippet of history/stupidity from the DB and my history. This conversation came about nearly two months after we’d met for the first time (though we didn’t meet again for nearly another two months after this conversation). A conversation on me drinking somehow degenerated into a conversation on how I should seduce myself (excuse the typos/spelling and homonym mistakes)… and don’t think I’m the only one in this relationship who’s seduced herself – another conversation we had dealt with him seducing himself. He needs wine and candlelight, apparently.

(I'm in italics)

just don't slip any roofies into your own drinks
party time....awwwlllll right!

*rofl* But how else am I supposed to take advantage of myself?!

be smooth
be charming, a gentleman and don't stare at your breasts

Aw, that *never* works!

your right
but it sounds good anyway

*sigh* I'll see what I can do

maybe if you catch yourself by surprise

Yeah, the hand up the thigh sometimes can work

use some cheesy pick up line

Yeah, if I make myself laugh, that'll work

humour breaks the ice

and gets her smiling at you, important first step

make eye contact

I don't usually reveal my flexibility this early on, but okay

ask questions, but don't reveal too much about yourself
mystery is the spice of life

Okay, be interested in what I have to say, good, good

no more advice, thats usually where I stall out

Aw, poor baby
Should I flash a big wad of cash?

hey, this is all for you
well, if you take yourself to be a golddigger, it may work

The idea of someone to pay my bills is tempting, but I usually wind up dating people who make less than me

which is like, everyone
govt employees.....sheesh

Hah, I have debts out my wazoo, my daer

doesn't mean you don't make a lot, it means you like to live a generous lifestyle :)

Well, I have to romance myself properly!


I have to treat myself in the manner to which I'd like to become accustomed

you just can't expect to take yourself home if all you can afford is cheap dates

Although cheap dates can be fun, too

sometimes more fun
trolling for pennies is a fun date....it serves too purposes.....having fun and saving up for future dates

*laugh* Wow, you take cheap dates to a new extreme !:)

the ideal date is coming home with more money then what you left with, or even a new mansion of some sort

And here I thought you'd settle for sex ;)

well, when one isn't happening, move on to the next best thing
swimming in a pool of 100s

*grin* I want your life!

so do I

Clearly, this romance is the modern-day equivalent of Shakespeare -- though not one of his tragedies. I got shit to do before I die.


I am running out of November very quickly, and it's not yet totally stressing me out, but I'm getting there.

I've transferred over all of the main services -- hydro, gas, water/sewer, taxes, cable/internet -- as well as set up mail forwarding via Canada Post as of the move date, so that should catch the bulk of it. We'll hang on to our mailbox keys for the current place, so anything that doesn't get forwarded over the first week will still be pick-up-able.

What pleases me about the Canada Post mail forwarding system is that you specify the names to forward, so you don't get stuck with all of the other crap that gets sent to that address. As an example, I lived at my last apartment from August 1st, 2004 to (technically), November 30th, 2007; I was *still* getting mail from the previous tenants up until I moved out. We're in the same situation right now -- and I look forward to getting away from that.

People don't realize how much crap their name gets added to, or how much crap they sign up for, until the next person to live in your apartment or home gets stuck dealing with it.

Then there's all the crap that companies send out just because you already have two or three of their current services and they want you to buy more. NO ROGERS, I DO NOT WANT YOUR HOME PHONE. Argh.

My only real complaint about our neighbourhood, aside from the semi-sporadic bus service in the evenings (once an hour after 9:00 p.m. until the last route at 11:15 p.m.), is that there are a metric fuckton of flyers, pamphlets, trade papers, etc., that seem to find their way to our home. I never got around to it here, but I fully intend on putting up a sign at the new place requesting that no flyers be delivered. Alternately, I'll put the black box on the front porch with a sign and an arrow down to it asking for people to put the flyers in there... 'cause I know we don't read 'em.

Anyhow, aside from the joys that moving always brings, especially a move that's going to take place over a week and a half instead of in a single day... on the one hand, more convenient, on the other hand, irritating because it's going to mean sort-of living out of two places. The DB plans on having all of the furniture moved over early on, so we'll be pretty much living out of the new place as of that point, but I had thought to be moving stuff towards the end of the week... so who knows? It really only affects borrowing my dad's car and the fact that we won't have cable/internet at the new location until later on, which isn't the biggest hardship in the world.

Anyhow, add on to that schoolwork, with the December 1st deadline looming near and dear... At least I got the literature review sent off yesterday, and I hope that'll pass some muster. The hardest part of doing a literature review, in my opinion, is not making arguments when you're putting it together -- it's a simple presentation of the material of relevance. Funny thing? I shared this comment with Markuk and my mom, and both of them told me that the reason I found it so hard is because I'm so used to arguing. :/

I need to get the methodology section done quickly, and it'll be tough because it's theoretical in nature, which is my biggest downfall, but it's only 5-6 pages (and not the 12-14 I'd feared), so I'm hoping that it too will be okay. After that, 17-19 pages of analysis, 3-4 pages of intro and 3-4 pages of conclusion, plus 150 abstract and add on the bibliography, and it's done.

And the best part of doing a research paper in place of a thesis? Not having to defend it. A load off my mind... provided they don't completely hate it.


A few notes: next time you're in need of a lawyer, vet them a little more thoroughly. The guy you pick from the phone book, though he may have convenient offices to both your home and work, may also be senile... and somewhat condescending/patronizing.

I'm sorry that I don't have as much money as you think I should; this is what happens when you're young and have been paying living expenses for some time. Yes, I'm aware of the extra money you believe I'm "losing" -- the same fees that anyone else in my situation would have to pay. Yes, I'm a little frustrated that you're asking me the same questions that I've answered from you on more than one occasion. Now I have to wonder if what you're putting together is even valid legally, let alone accurate.

Lately I'm inclined to believe that one or both of the kitties is either in training to be or actually has become a ninja. The reason I believe this is because someone has, at least on one occasion, constructed a nunchuck using only her poop and some yarn. I think she forgot she left it there, since I found this device when I went to scoop out the box one day. I don't normally study their poops particularly closely, but this one definitely gave me pause. And a moment of weird pride, I think.

I'm at home sick today because the darling DB gave me his cold, and I spent the weekend sick as a dog. Just... awful. At least today I finally seem to be feeling better. I haven't been sleeping very well the last week or so, and I've been having a number of dreams as a result (I seem to dream more when I don't sleep very deeply, which often happens when I'm too warm at night). Earlier this week, I was in a semi-dozy state for about 20 minutes before my alarm actually went off, and I was composing and revising media lines in my head -- part of my job description, and not something I generally like to dream about. That said, it beats the dream that I had while employed under my previous manager, which involved my coworker and I wandering, lost, in a fog ... one of the first times I've had that I can seriously point to my subconscious as reflecting my life.

I've had various dreams about pregnancies and such over the last while, but I'm not putting much stock in those. I'm in no rush to be reproducing, and there are enough people around me doing it. I'm quite happy in my child-less lifestyle for now, and I'll make the necessary adjustments when the time comes. And I'll still be able to talk about other things than babies. ;)

I had a dream the other night that the DB was lying on top of me, and I was licking and scraping my teeth on his neck and he was getting really turned on. This isn't something that works for him in real life -- rather, it's a nice trigger for me, though -- so it was an odd dream choice, but whatever.

Last night, though, I had a fairly vivid dream about my First Big Love, who I've mentioned a few times over the years on these pages. I haven't seen or spoken to him in years (though I did add him via facebook, ooh), so it was odd that he popped up in a dream like that. There wasn't anything racy or particularly exciting about it; I think we were at some kind of car racetrack, and I know I ended up in his parent's place at some point, but there wasn't much more than that. I think we just caught up and enjoyed one another's company.

It's nice now and again to think about my past with him. Admittedly, we had a horrid ending the second time (as a refresher -- we dated for a year when I was 14 and he was 15, then for a little over two years when I was 18 and he was 19), but despite all of the heartbreak, he was the first person that I can point to that I genuinely loved in a romantic sense, and he was a good first (and third) boyfriend. Sometimes I miss aspects of that relationship... he introduced me to comic books and certain musical groups, as well as in some ways video games, and we just had ... I don't know. That connection that you have with a first boyfriend or girlfriend, I guess, especially when you both still live with your parents and are in high school and everything. It's very intense and significant, and personality-/life-forming.

Maybe I'm putting too much into this, maybe he never gives me a second thought, or maybe he feels differently than me, but I still remember the first time we exchanged "I love you"s, and a few of the other firsts. I think it's pretty good that what stands out for me are the things I loved about him and us -- the way he smelled, the way he felt we cuddled, the happy moments -- as opposed to the pain and misery that formed the endings.

I want to be able to say something insightful and significant here, but I really don't have anything good to go out on. Basically, I had a dream about a long-ago boyfriend, and it kept him in my thoughts today. Once upon a time, I thought I could see myself with him forever, even though I also didn't think I could be with him forever, if that makes sense. He was allergic to cats, I wasn't maybe as strong with him as I should've been, and so on, but that was then and it helped shape who I am now, as have all of my relationships (for better or for worse). He's someone that I sometimes wish I still had a relationship of sorts with, but who knows if we'd have anything whatsoever to base that on? Probably not, and hey, maybe that's just how it's supposed to be. Maybe I just miss what that relationship represented, which was probably tied into being in high school and having little to no responsibilities or concerns... not like nowadays.

He's also responsible for my semi-crush on Jeff Goldblum, 'cause I always thought he sorta looked like the actor. Goldblum's roles in Independence Day and Will & Grace helped keep me in love with the actor -- the first because I love a pining story (given that I've lived it out a few times myself), and the second because it was just so ridiculous.

Anyhow, on that nonsensical note, I leave you with another one for the stupid things Jen has done file: last night I left the carton of ice cream out on the counter, which I'd half-suspected I'd do. I put it in the freezer this morning, and I had some not too long ago. I'm still alive, so it can't be too bad, eh?


Based on the conversations I had with two of my female coworkers at work this morning, I have to wonder if the three of us spent equally rough weekends, mentally/relationship-wise. Mind you, since one of them is currently in a long-distance relationship, I'm not sure that's exactly a fair guess.

Not to say that there are problems, exactly, in this world of mine... simply stresses equating to a shorter internal temper and things bothering me a bit more than is usual for me. It will pass, and all will once again be well.

Now we're into November and the real deadlines start. I have roughly a month to finish up the paper, and that includes finishing some of my reading -- fortunately, the end is in sight for that. I need to get my literature review off to my professor ASAP (or, honestly, several weeks ago), and then continue writing as I wait for his assessment of the crap I spew. Not to mention all the move organization that comes, and all of the paperwork that has to be filed, the cheques that have to be written, the organization that has to be done, the packing and purging that has to take place... if it weren't for the fact that winter can be damn cold up here, I'd just find myself a comfy cave, toss my shit into it and be done with it.

R and N had a Hallowe'en party on the weekend, so I made an appearance with the DB. As with most social gatherings lately, the first little while felt awkward and I was toying with leaving almost as soon as we arrived; fortunately that time passed once I started chatting a bit with a few of the guests and relaxing a bit more.

It's interesting to note how I've changed somewhat since I moved out on my own and then once I moved in with the DB; my grandfather's funeral drove that home a bit more clearly. In short, though I've always been an introvert who enjoys social gatherings on occasion, I really have gotten accustomed to my quiet time and space. Sure, the DB and I share a townhouse, but we often spend time apart when we're there; he's downstairs in the mancave playing Xbox, whereas I'm in the living room watching tv, cooking in the kitchen, or playing on my computer upstairs. Sometimes I'm video gaming or taking a bath, but overall, we have dinner together, then do our own thing until bedtime. Granted, there are days that I'm not as fond of this division, but overall, it's nice to have -- it's relaxing being able to decompress and do our own thing.

Admittedly, my grandfather's funeral was a time of high stress and heightened emotions and other sensitivities, and maybe at times like these we're supposed to want to surround ourselves with family, but for the most part, I wanted to smack mine around -- at least the closer ones. It was somewhat similar at my Puppy's funeral; I wanted to be alone and not have to be around my family, especially considering my family at that point was cousins with whom I really share nothing... and sorry, but I'm not really into children as a source of entertainment overall. Give me somepne's pet, and I'm pretty well off, but watching a toddler isn't really how I clear my mind of sorrow.

Yeah, I'm not really providing context, it's true... Bah. I'm looking forward to being able to set up a better study space than what I have here. I like this place, but I'm looking forward to personalizing my space more and making my own refuge -- because despite what the DB tries to say, the kitchen isn't my refuge, and I don't decompress through baking him pies. :)


Oh yeah... I found the following picture in a Farker's profile, and while I admit the guy's kinda goofy-looking, and the shadowy face is weird, the sentiment behind the picture is really sweet and something I can understand:

As an unintentional case-in-point to my last post, I had a confrontation with my dad this weekend and cried. *sigh*

I borrowed my dad's car to get some furniture I bought from a coworker as part of our GCWCC auction. No damage, no problem. I took the car back on Sunday night when I went over for our delayed Thanksgiving dinner, and as I did, I brought some paint supplies that I had bought to repaint a chest of drawers that's going back to my parents.

I put the bag on the seat. Something leaked.

Now, as it turns out, it wasn't the paint supplies -- and I hadn't thought it would be, given that they were all sealed and had been kept in the garage the whole time, up against the house. Rather, I hadn't realized that some of my bike supplies were in the bag, so we thought it might've been one of the bottles of oil (there was one that had been opened, the rest were still sealed). Didn't smell like motor oil, didn't smell like the fuel stabilizer... so best guess is that it's lock de-icer that had also been in that bag. That stuff stinks, but at least it's not turpentine.

I scrubbed the seat, and as I was doing so, my mom came out to see how I was doing. I told her I was crying because I'd been sick all weekend and hadn't had a decent night's sleep. She asked what was really bothering me, I reiterated that, and also said that my dad just gets so pissed over things, and that I know I'll be hearing about this one for the next twenty years. The part that I didn't say, though I was ready to, was simply that sometimes I think my parents wait for me to fuck something up just so they have something to lord over me and use to pester me... not a fun way to be.

But that was last night, and today I'm more or less better off. The DB and I are still having fights over what stuff of mine is going to get pitched, and this and that. I repeated what I'd told him when we first moved in together -- that at that time, there was stuff I was ready to get rid of, and for this move, maybe there will be more. But I have to be ready; and he said he's kinda the same way.

I've long said that I don't mind getting rid of stuff, but I don't like to throw out something that still has use, whether for me or someone else. So when we get rid of our worn-out bedding, it will be going to a vet clinic or the humane society, not the garbage. Light fixtures, necklaces, books, whatever -- they go to Value Village, or someplace that can make use of them. The DB has said he'd be willing to lend me his car, without requiring I put gas in it, if it's because I'm getting rid of stuff... so win-win for me, really.

I do need to get moving on the various preparations that go along with moving. I have made a few phone calls, and we're moving things along. Fortunately we have a week to move in, but that doesn't mean I want to leave things to the absolute last minute. Although I do seem to be getting more and more procrastinatey each time I move... :/ At least this one should be the last one for awhile.

In general we seem to be moving along fairly well, relationship-wise. There are some issues that do crop up on occasion, and we had a pretty good conversation last week going over them -- and by conversation, I mean that I did a lot of talking, and he didn't say much, and then when he came home from work, we talked a bit more and that time he did say stuff, and I felt better.

I've been bugging him to open up more on things that I believe are important to our future; not with the intention of making carved-in-stone plans immediately, but to get ideas of what he sees and when. Given the fact that I'm 28 now and hope not to be having babies when I'm 40, these are the kinds of things I'd like to have at least discussed at this point. Kinda scary to be at that point in my life, but it's a reality.

I've asked the DB if I'm sad to be getting excited over furniture shopping and home accessories. He said I am, but he also likes to have opportunities to take shots at me, as do many of my friends and family members. It gets frustrating sometimes when you're trying to have a serious conversation with someone who cracks jokes all the time, especially when I can be the same way and I recognize that. That said, I don't think I make jokes when someone's trying to talk to me about something they feel is important to them... but maybe I'm mistaken. It happens occasionally. ;)


I can't decide if it's sad or not that I'm proud of myself when I get through a serious conversation -- or one that deals with things of import to me -- without crying. It's not that the subject matter itself is upsetting to me, I just have a difficult time sometimes getting through serious conversations without crying. It's frustrating, because I feel it takes away from my message or what I'm saying, and I feel weak as a result.

It seems to vary depending on who I'm talking to, too; I was never able to fight with my dad as a kid, 'cause I'd end up crying. My mom? No problem -- although if we're talking about something that's upsetting to me, like people or pet death or something, then the waterworks will happen, too.

I guess sometimes I'm just more of a girl than I want to acknowledge. :P


Well, the default crab mode I've been in is somewhat improving, but slowly. I have days where I feel fine; then I have days where I'm just frustrated and upset by everything. I try not to get too upset, but I know comments have snuck out here and there.

I'm frustrated with our housing company, for one. They have requested showings of our place a few times during day hours; fortunately they seem to have gotten the hint that the DB and I WORK during STANDARD WORK hours, and are not available before 6 p.m. Sure, there are days that the DB is off during the week, but because they wouldn't let us out of our lease early (that is, if we gave notice September 15th, they would keep us in our lease until November 30th), our attitude is screw 'em.

So, they scheduled a showing while I was out of town; the tenant was a no-show, though the agent did turn up. No worries, it happens. They requested another showing last Friday at noon; when I said that wasn't possible, they offered up 7:30, and said the same agent would be present, and apologized for the no-show.

We did some cleaning and basic tidying up, and held off on dinner since we weren't starving. At 7:15, the doorbell rings, and it's the agent with a prospective tenant. The agent clearly knows nothing about our place -- I'm having to identify the fixtures and features that come with the house, she doesn't know where light switches are (understandable), but seems really ... not competent.

Then she mentions she has another appointment coming -- and a couple shows up to look around. Okay, no problem, I chatted with them about the house, the neighbourhood and so on. Then another woman comes, and looks fairly comfortable with the agent, so I assumed she was another employee of the housing company -- no, she was another prospective tenant. Away she goes with the agent... and then another couple comes for the tour.

In all, there were four appointments when we were only told of one, the agent was 15 minutes early (which to me was rude -- what if we had a prior engagement or went out to run an errand and weren't there when she arrived? Would she simply have let herself in, as the housing company had previous verified that the agent wouldn't need keys, since we were going to be present?), and she didn't know what was going on. She just struck me as ill-prepared and unprofessional.

For the record, we pretty much sat on the couch and kept to ourselves while everyone was wandering around. I kept watch over Thena and kept prompting people to push on the front door to shut it; it doesn't latch properly, and I didn't want it popping open. The agent tried to tell me that the final couple who came in had shut it behind them, when I could clearly see it was still open. I would have felt quite comfortable showing the place off myself, and when we looked at it it was the tenant who showed it to us -- I don't know why the need for an agent, but whatever.

The final couple to come through had a baby, and we offered to let them leave her downstairs with us while they explored (she was in a car seat, and they can be somewhat cumbersome). They declined, saying she'd cry (and I said that we'd understand if they preferred not to). The agent then asked where our little one was, saying that she noticed toys around the house.

For the record, the toys are clearly cat toys; catnip bags, balls with bells in them, feathers with a stick on them, and so on. Not to mention, there is no nursery in our townhouse: there is a master bedroom, office with two computer desks, and a spare bedroom with a double bed and a shelving unit. There are no cribs, playpens, diaper pails, changing tables, plastic children toys, or anything that would appear to indicate the presence of a child... and having been through the house with prospective tenants *three* times already, she should have realized this fact.

And finally... the other thing I discovered about our house that cheezed me off about our rental company involves our rent. When we started leasing the place, rent was $1295/month plus utilities. A few months before I lease was up for renewal, we got a lease renewal package that showed our rent was due to go up to $1313/month (plus utilities). I was nosy and checked out the listing on the rental company's website for our place -- new tenants come in at $1295/month plus utilities.

Struck me as awfully douche-y of them...


Okay, so in the end I didn't end up posting anything to LJ. Maybe I shall, but my mood appears to have improved somewhat for now. I still have issues that will need to be addressed, but there's an awful lot going on in the meantime already.

I've definitely enjoyed having things be quiet for the last while at work, what with the election and all. I was working on analyzing a lot of the coverage, so for a change I felt moderately informed as to all of the party platforms. Of course, that got somewhat derailed when I took off for a week for the funeral stuff, but for the most part, I felt good heading into the polling stations.

It's completely predictable how your priorities change when you're going in to vote at various periods in your life. Even when I was a full-time undergrad, I rolled my eyes a little at the students protesting tuition hikes; after all, it's that much worse if you're attending school in an unsubsidized place (like the U.S.), and every student is poor, broke, and so on. Students that aren't working or paying their own way only have so much of a leg to stand on, in my judgemental opinion.

Now that I'm old and crabby, my priorities have turned more towards household taxes and the cost of living in my city. The DB and I were lying in bed the other night, talking politics, and he pointed out how we were showing our age.

Anyhow, in lieu of actually continuing this stalled train of thought, I'm going to post another picture. This image is the one my housing management company uses to showcase the master bedroom in our current place. As you can see, it really helps show you the dimensions of the room, the features such as the ceiling fan, walk-in closet and window overlooking the street (and no, I don't know why this file name includes 'wince'):


I needed that.

Yesterday was rough. I was morose, I was annoyed, I was frustrated, I was definitely not wanting to spend the night hanging around the house.

I had to return some DVDs and the weather was good, so shortly after I got home, I went out on the motorcycle. I planned on just cruising around afterwards, maybe stopping someplace for dinner -- no real plans. When I finished my errand, I found a text message from JR telling me about plans to go out and celebrate RJ's last day in the city. The weather held out, so I joined up with everyone and had fun.

It was a small group, but contained people whose company I enjoy and hadn't seen in awhile, so it was perfect, and I left in better spirits.

On a separate note... I understand people who become stressed from school, work, home life, etc. I suffer from it as well (although apparently my body likes to demonstrate its stress through things like acne breakouts -- thanks body!). Sometimes I have a shorter temper and snap at people, but I do try to apologize when it happens. Most of the time, I get told not to worry about it.

That said... if you spend literally months on end snapping at people, being short-tempered and drinking to deal with your stress? Maybe you need to re-evaluate your coping mechanisms. It's not fair to put your issues on others' shoulders, and people will quickly get fed up and possibly cut you out of their lives, stop inviting you out, whatever, as a result.

Just a complaint I've been holding on to for awhile. I have some relationship-related stuff to post, but I think that's going to be saved for LJ. Though as an amusing side-note (okay, amusing to me):

I wore my cupcake underwear for the wedding we attended in Wawa. The DB gave me a hard time about it, saying I could've worn my fancy-lacy underwear or some such -- 'cause after all, everyone's underwear gets examined at a wedding for appropriateness (also, I should point out that the only time he says or used to say anything about my underwear is when the bra and underwear don't match -- which they never do, as I'm a rebel like that).

So, not only did I wear my cupcake underwear to the wedding, but I wore them as well to my grandfather's funeral (and yes, I washed them in between this) -- and after the funeral and the condolence-line, I discovered that my fly had been open the whole time. I'm the model of appropriate behaviour at funerals... flipping off my dad at Puppy's funeral, telling my mom to stop hitting on me at this one... I'm awesome.


I wish it were possible for me to just turn off my brain and/or get over things, I really do. I'm not much of one for astrology, but there are certain aspects to both of my signs (I'm born on the cusp, and have traits from both Leo and Virgo) that seem to affect my brain sometimes -- and seem to apply to a friend of mine, R, that shares my Virgo side as well.

It seems to get worse as I get older; either that, or the many years of being on the pill have affected me. Quite possibly it's a combination of the two.

It's almost funny to me how I can practically chart what issues will arise and overtake my brain and when. Oh look! It's approximately a week before I come off this cycle of pills, time to obsess over issue X.

And the greater challenge to all of this? Dating someone who feels that discussing issue X once or twice means that it has been covered and since there's really nothing new to say about it, we don't need to keep talking about it.

But my style is different. I talk things through to understand them, or I write about them (publicly or privately) to figure them out, either through the input of another or just through reasoning it through on my own. From my perspective, if there hasn't been a solution or an explanation for issue X that I can understand, then it's not resolved and it's going to keep nagging at me.

Sure, sometimes even if there has been a resolution it may come up again, but I can either recant that resolution for myself and move on, or if something new has arisen, I can return to the issue and hopefully resolve it once more.

And yes, I overthink things and I keep thinking of things after they've possibly been concluded for their other party(/ies). That's just how I am, unfortunately. Sometimes it works to my advantage, but sometimes it just means I dwell on things longer than perhaps I ought. See above: I'd love to just dismiss it and move on, but for some issues, particularly if I haven't seen a resolution to them, voilà, I can't.

*sigh* Add in a healthy dose of insecurity that likes to crop up now and again, and you have a great party in my head.

And so I resolve to myself to just not bring it up anymore, but that doesn't really work, either. Sometimes I'll bring it up, hoping for an explanation I can understand, but get nothing in return -- because of course, we've talked about it previously, and there's nothing new to say. I know in the past I've been frustrated by conversations that keep coming up and have no new aspects (hell, I still go through some of those with exes), but at the same time, I feel sometimes as though the answer I'm getting is nothing more than, 'Just because,' which really doesn't help me any -- and at least I try to provide more than that.

Maybe I don't succeed, I don't know. Sometimes, certainly, we can't give any better answer than 'it just is' -- but sometimes that's all the answer I've given to someone because I didn't want to chance hurting their feelings by saying more. I guess I fear that that's the case in this situation, even if 99 of the other 100 clues are saying otherwise.

It's a great party in my head, I'm telling you.


Well, I'm now back from the funeral and associated joys that such an occasion brings.

Observations? Well, at several times during the trip down and time there, I could've cheerfully tossed various family members out of moving cars or available windows. Ah, how stress benefits us all.

Otherwise, life carries on as per usual. I have nothing really to report -- I did have some ideas for a posting earlier today or yesterday, but now I've forgotten it completely. As usual, my cats are adorable, my boyfriend is pretty solid (when he isn't driving me nuts), and I haven't had nearly enough sleep to be coherent in any way, shape or form.

Not to mention, I appear to be riding a full-out babble lately. Fun for everyone around me, I'm sure.

I also appear to have developed narcolepsy, or I'm having a delayed reaction to the fun of the last week. Saturday I passed out on the plane immediately after finishing a cup of coffee, Sunday I passed out mid-can of pop, and yesterday I passed out before dinner... but after a few glasses of wine, so I can be forgiven.

The DB and I made the trip to lascivious Wawa, Ontario last weekend, a trip to rival the debauchery to be had in Las Vegas, for the wedding of one of his good friends from high school and thereafter. I keep raving about how nice and friendly everyone was, and what a good time I had, and it's true. Sure, I was a tad extra-goofy because of the full bottle of wine I had with my meal and the reception, but for the most part, I geniunely wasn't horrendously drunk, just happily so -- but it lead to gems such as the following:

Oh, I am indeed one classy broad.



End of May, Greg and Madeleine get married. I find out at the wedding that a good family friend died. That week, I graduate university, attend his funeral, and then go to my cousin Sally's wedding. (So that makes two weddings and a funeral in one week).


Beginning of October, DB's friends get married. I find out on the way home from the wedding that my (paternal) grandfather has died. This weekend, my cousin Colleen, Sally's younger sister, is getting married. So if I hadn't already declined to attend Colleen's wedding (for other reasons), I could once again be going to two weddings and a funeral in one week.

If either of those cousins divorces and remarries, I'm not going to the second marriage.

Either my mom or dad seemed to be saying that I could still choose to go to the wedding, but since I've already changed my attendance from "yes" to "no," I don't think it would be kind of me to say "yes" again.

Plus, going to a wedding after a funeral? Not fun. Did it once, don't want to do it again. Also, would rather just come home and hang out with the kitties afterwards instead of hanging around the Maritimes until my folks were done and ready to go -- especially when I don't have the time off to do the second (as it is, I'm taking this week off for the travel/funeral stuff).

*sigh* My dad's family likes to die at Thanksgiving -- my grandma died at Thanksgiving in 2001, her brother died at Thanksgiving a few years ago, and now my grandpa has died at the same time of year. Add on top of this that my Puppy (mom's dad)'s birthday is next week (and he died about a year and a half ago, not at Thanksgiving), and my aunt (dad's sister)'s birthday is also next week (she's not dead), and this is a wonky time of year for the family.

Also, I had a long car ride home from Moe's friend's wedding yesterday, feeling nauseated the whole time for reasons I don't know (though I'm blaming the Timmy's breakfast sandwich), and we're doing a long car ride to the Maritimes tomorrow, and I'm just glad I have a good boyfriend, understanding boss, and snuggly kitties -- Thena's nuzzling me as I write, or was.

So, how have you guys been? Keeping the place tidy, I hope?


For all that I'm outspoken and often confident in my beliefs, as unpopular as they may at times be, there is still so much I keep to myself and don't share.

And sometimes... I just want to yell it to the heavens.

Other times, I do say it, and I just don't seem to get heard -- so what's the point in saying it?

Though it does make me wonder just what I'm not picking up on.


As may be expected from my research for my masters' paper, I've been doing a lot of reading of articles about Spike, Spike and Buffy's relationship, and other related themes.

First, I'll acknowledge that, given the nature of the material and the sources I'm using (a lot of material from Slayage Online, the International Journal of Buffy studies), there's a very incestuous nature to that which I'm reading; authors cite one another fairly regularly, and some quotes turn up in more than a few publications. This is both a benefit and a negative -- benefit because it means I'm getting a pretty good notion that I'm doing a good job of covering the field; negative because sometimes it'd be nice to hear new voices (and I have found some as I've read more). Another positive is the possibility that I could be contributing to what is a fairly small group. This will eventually help me in my quest to become e-famous, such as it is (non-existent).

Anyhow, what has come up a few times is the idea that Spike attempted to rape Buffy in season 6 because audiences were becoming too supportive of his relationship with Buffy and were too sympathetic to him as a character. Now, I am in no way condoning, supporting, embracing or any other positive label-ing the attempted rape. I am a firm believer that even if you are at the moment of penetration, and the girl then says no, you are to respect her wishes and stop. Period, full stop, etc. Let me just get that out of the way. I will readily admit to having rape fantasies -- I think there's nothing wrong with this and it represents a healthy sexual fantasy. I was sickened and disgusted by the rape scene in Showgirls (I'll admit it, I watched it), which convinced me that I wasn't twisted or wrong with my rape fantasies, that I really was against rape.

I'm also well-aware of the murky grey area that exists in the land of, "Well, I didn't say no... but I didn't really want to" in sexual relationships, because an unfortunate number of my own experiences have fallen under that uncertain region. Would I say I was raped? No. Would I say I had sex against my will? Yes. It's a difficult distinction to make, and one I'm not always sure everyone understands (can I be potentially sexist and say men don't understand? I'm not sure; I'm guilty of not always being able to understand men in the same manner I feel I understand women, so I'll hesitate from officially making that declaration, but I'm not erasing it at the moment).

Anyhow, to get myself away from all of my conditions and caveats, my original point are as follows -- even as someone who is opposed to rape and so on, I was able to feel sympathy for Spike in the context in which the rape was presented. There've been two excellent articles I've just read by Gwyn Symonds, "Solving Problems With Sharp Objects": Female Empowerment, Sex and Violence in Buffy the Vampire Slayer, and "Playing more soul than is written: James Marsters' performance of Spike and the Ambiguity of Evil in Sunnydale, that discuss the rape scene and re-present it in ways that I was trying to mentally articulate and couldn't. (It's cases such as these that depress me as a scholar/writer). The first article illustrates how the scene is filmed and talks of the different camera cuts, angles, visuals, etc., as well as actors' deliveries and such that alternate viewers' sympathies between Buffy and Spike. As a sympathetic viewer and one who is admittedly, a Buffy/Spike Shipper (that is, supporter of the relationship), my sympathies were with Spike before, during and after the scene -- not for the actual actions, but I felt that Marsters' did such an excellent job of bringing Spike's motivations into the scene, that I couldn't help but.

That is to say, Spike was trying to show Buffy that she cared for him, and he knew that she felt it during their sex life -- so he was trying to bring back those emotions, draw them back out from her. Now, maybe it isn't fair of me to use this line of reasoning, as I'm sure that many disturbed individuals have done similarly, but as Symonds points out in her second article, viewers come to the show with a tremendous amount of media literacy, and we don't automatically condone the immoral actions of real-life people simply because we do so for characters on the screen. Certainly many viewers have felt that the murders or vengeance killings of characters in films and television shows was justified within the narrative frame of said show or film, but how many of us actively and/or routinely condone murders or vengeance kills in every day life?

And yet, my original point was not just this. My frustration in some part with the writers and producers that have gone on record about the attempted rape narrative arc, such as Marti Noxon and David Fury, because ultimately, as writers and producers, they form some of the responsibility for the growth and redemptive narrative arc of Spike. Spike was originally introduced as a disposable villain, and because of audience admiration and the talents of James Marsters, he was kept on, and continued to grow and evolve throughout the series (which forms the basis for my research paper). Now, other beloved characters that were introduced were disposed of -- Jenny Calendar, Tara, in some ways Jonathan -- and yet, even with fan complaints (as I'm sure there were), the storylines were there. I'm arguing that the writers and producers had the power to kill off Spike at any time. They could have kept him from growing as completely as they did, or evolving/reverting to a more human state. Certainly, he was the bad boy, the Big Bad, and I don't believe that someone who has spent two hundred years murdering people is necessarily good -- but we were to believe such of Angel, who did his fair share of murdering before his soul was restored to him. He certainly was merciless when his soul was once again removed.

What I find interesting was that, unless my memory fails me, even once Spike learned he could physically hurt Buffy after her return to Earth, he only did so in the one episode prior to their first sexual encounter; he could have killed her at any time and didn't, because he loved her and because he was on his way to remembering his humanity.

But it feels as though these writers and producers who are essentially defending or justifying the attempted rape scene are almost washing their hands of it at the same time -- like, "You guys were starting to like this character too much, you didn't realize that he's supposed to be this awful guy, so we're going to have him go out and try to rape Buffy... but no no, it's not our fault that you like him, even if we're giving him lines and motivations that make him nicer and more likable. Sure, we neutered him and rendered him incapable of harming humans. Sure, we made him kind of a pathetic little puppy stuck out in the cold. Sure, we made him start to do good because he wants to be accepted, good, and be, in his mind, worthy of Buffy's love. But it's not our fault that you guys like him! We'll have to change that!"

It's just... frustrating, and I have to wonder if it wasn't ultimately a lot of PR work to keep controversy high and viewers interested in the show, or what.

And yes, as you can see, I'm extremely relevant and topical in my choice of discussions. A show that ended five years ago is totally up-to-date to analyze and get worked up about.
It’s interesting how quickly you can get up to speed on an issue when the need is there. I won’t claim at all to be an expert, but certainly, I’ve learned a lot.

About what? That information will come.

It’s also interesting getting into conversations with people and realizing that what you’re actually hearing is a lot of ignorance from sources you’d previously assumed were well-informed, or at least more so than you. I’ve learned a lot from observing people as I age, and realizing that some people I used to admire or respect for some subjects are actually not as intelligent about things or ways of going about things as I might’ve originally thought.

Which isn’t to say at all that I’m way up there in the smarty-pants realm; not by far. Just interesting to be able to go, ‘Wait a minute… you’re talking out your ass!’

Maybe I’m just crabby because I’ve been hearing my dad’s Forceful Voice a lot this past week. He seems to think that if he doesn’t use said voice, I don’t listen to him – though what he doesn’t always realize is sometimes he’s saying the exact same thing three different ways… or he’s been telling me the exact same thing every time we speak. I love my dad, and we get along well, but the fact that we have the same personality means that we tend to get frustrated with one another somewhat quickly – and probably explains why my mom sometimes seems to get frustrated with me faster than perhaps with my sister. Then again, I don’t necessarily see it first-hand, so maybe I’m just being whiny and resentful. ;)

The weather this weekend was actually rather nice for a change, so I was able to toss the cats outside. It worked well for Thena, who spent most of both afternoons out, but not as well for Venus. I spent much of Sunday bringing her feathers-on-a-stick toy, which is twice as long as her, downstairs to the DB (after she brought them from the basement to the upstairs where I was), or bringing her downstairs for him to play with, or just cuddling with her and talking to her. She was in crazy-suck mode, including flaking out on his lap while we watched television after supper.

Thena, on the other hand, was in protector mode this weekend. Sunday she had a neighbourhood cat 'trapped' under the deck; I say trapped in quotes because my two go out on harnesses and leashes, so their range is limited, and the cat wasn't at all at risk of a fight if/when she left. Saturday, I saw Thena poking at something on the deck, and when I went out to check on her later realized she had a giant dragonfly in her mouth. She wasn't actively chewing on it, but its two forward wings were a bit damaged, and she was really into poking at it and so on. I helped it escape.

Later, she was staring at what I think was a bee, and talking back to me when I was trying to explain that bees and wasps are not tasty bugs. I did tell her that spiders are quite delicious, but I'm not sure how convinced she is.

And finally, she was trying to figure out how to eat a crane fly that was on the inside of the screen door, while she was on the outside. My cats, they can be quite sweet, but aren't always that bright.

Although Thena is usually fairly well-behaved, crabby, jealous and demanding... while Venus is like dealing with a small, stubborn child.


Urgh. I hate hate hate thinking about money. I’m not worrying about it so much – just trying to come up with ways to better manage it… and I keep thinking about all of the different ‘necessary’ expenses that repeat but aren’t daily or sometimes even monthly – haircuts, cat food, cat litter, birth control pills, and so on. Back to burying my head in the sand, I guess.

I opened up a zip.ca account the other day, and got my first disc in the mail yesterday – disc 1 of season 1 of Lois & Clark. I loved it when it first aired, and I had my crush on Dean Cain. My friend Quynh (whose name I can no longer remember how to properly spell) was in love with Jonathan Brandis, of SeaQuest DSV fame. I’m so going back to my marginally embarrassing childhood days.

It’s also interesting watching the show now, contrasted with other shows that I’ve been watching in heavier rotation – House, Firefly, CSI, and so on. It definitely shows its age via the special effects and the outfits, but I’m finding that’s the case even with the pacing of the show. Granted, at this point I’ve only re-watched the pilot and a bit of the second episode, but it’s odd to be in a position to watch it with this critical eye and mind, which I never thought I had… though a classmate laughed at me when I said as much.

Anyhow, time to run, but hopefully I shall have cool news to post shortly.


Okay, short observation with an explanation.

As you may know, I'm doing my masters research paper on Buffy the Vampire Slayer; more specifically, I'm studying the bi-gendered nature of the character Spike and the hero's quest (as defined by Joseph Campbell) he undergoes throughout the series -- with possibly some observation of him as Buffy's Shadow (as defined by Carl Jung).

All of that to say, I'm reading a bunch of articles on the series, as well as some background stuff on Campbell, masculinity, etc.

All of that to say, this particular line in the article "Fan Readings of Sex and Violence on Buffy the Vampire Slayer," by Dawn Heinecken, amused me greatly:

"[Shippers, i.e., those that are fans of the Buffy/Spike relationship] interpret Spike's interaction with the Buffybot, his robot sex toy, as evidence of his concern for Buffy's pleasure, since his first act with it is to perform cunnilingus."

I'm both amused, and now that I'm thinking about going back to watch the episode again, kinda fairly aroused... My first draft of my thesis proposal involved talking about dildos; I'm wondering if I can manage to work cunnilingus into my actual research paper.


I suppose I could continue my previous day's ruminations, but at the moment, I just don't have it in me.

I'm feeling a vague sense of dissatisfaction or unease or disquiet. It's hard to define it, and it's frustrating to be hit with it now, especially when I'm making some progress in other arenas. I guess as usual, I haven't had enough sleep, so I'm left with the crabby that often seems to accompany my day-to-day life.

I also learned recently that my caffeine intake has increased enough that I suffer when it decreases -- i.e., Saturday evening a migraine starts to take hold, and by Sunday it's in full-force. So Sunday I dope myself with some pills and a cup of coffee. Kinda sad, but it seems to do the trick.

Some of you may recall that I went to Vegas a little while ago. If I can give anyone advice, it's try not to go in August. It's hot there, and while I thought I could handle it, it was pretty draining. Even my feet were winding up in pain each day because they were becoming swollen from the heat and the walking, and my comfy sandals just weren't cutting it the way they usually do.

That said, it was pretty cool to go. We stayed in the Flamingo Hotel/Casino, and checked out pretty much every major casino along the Strip -- so now when I see movies or tv shows that feature the Strip, I recognize the buildings and can identify where they are and what they looked like inside.

We flew out of Toronto to save some money, and our flight down was direct -- leave around 9 a.m. EST, land around 11:30 Vegas time (I forget the time zone and I'm too lazy to check). 3 hours behind, 5 hourish flight, nothing too exciting about it. I always hate going through American customs, 'cause they make me feel like they seriously doubt I'm a government employee or something, and I feel like if I give the wrong job description, they'll toss me in a cell. That said, I passed without problems.

Flying back we had to transfer planes in Winnipeg. We left Vegas at 11 p.m. local time, landed in Winnipeg around 4:30 a.m. local time (so we're now one timezone behind Ontario), and then left Winnipeg around 6:00 a.m. to fly to Toronto for 9:30ish a.m. EST. Got that?

The DB and I did the best we could to sleep through the flight, but I kept waking up to pop my eardrums -- which are crazy sensitive to the pressure changes -- and because I was cold, uncomfortable, etc. I'm pretty zonked and feeling punchy, especially when there were only two/three customs agents processing people through (understandable, given the hour). I'm being more verbose than usual to help set the stage. Jen = tired, punchy, dumb.

I finally get up to the customs agent and present my declaration, passport, kidney, etc. The guy looks over my declarations (nothing right down the list), and asks if I have anything to declare. I say no, he asks why not.

I, in all of my brilliance and excellent sense of self-preservation, state that it's because I didn't win enough money to buy any drugs or guns.

Yes, I said it.

No, he didn't violate my bum.

Instead, he kinda laughed and said deadpan, good, I'll write that on here -- no drugs or guns. I thanked him and said that that would help me get processed faster. He said no, actually, it wouldn't.

And I'm still alive to tell the tale.

Moral? Probably not a good idea to fly with me on a red-eye. I'm dumb and I spend even less time thinking before speaking -- which is a scary thought in and of itself.


I've been told by a few people (okay, two) recently that I need to blog more. So, here's the effort to do so.

The thing is, I don't often feel I'm especially funny in text. Off-the-cuff remarks, angry rants, sure, I seem to amuse that way. But in text? Much more challenging. I don't know, some people seem to relate to what I have to say, and goodness knows I like to hear myself speak -- metaphorically speaking.

I had coffee with the girlfriend of a high school acquaintance yesterday (how's that for unwieldy explanations?). She's commented on here a few times, so I don't feel too guilty if I use her name, Sarah. I'm trying to make this as simple as possible.

Anyhow, we had a good chat, covering all kinds of topics, including but not limited to relationships. I then had another conversation about relationships with a coworker today, so suffice it to say the subject matter's on my mind. Add this to one of the songs that came up on my playlist, and I figure I have a subject to discuss.

For those who are curious, the song was Cupid's Chokehold -- the singer is telling his dad about the girl he's in love with, and there's a line to the effect of "I know you've heard me say I've met The One before, but this time it's for real"; I can relate. I do think that his saying that his girl has her very own ringtone on his cell as an example of Tru Wuv is a bit goofy, but hey -- it's a song.

So, how do you know when you've met The One? And how do you remind your fingers where the characters are on a QWERTY keyboard when you work all day on a French keyboard and your muscle memory has both stuck in there. Kinda cool, makes me wonder how I'd do on a Dvorak keyboard, and is a slight deviation from the subject at hand.

Relationships. The One. Is there really a One for anyone, or do we end up just settling? Where do the compromises get made?

I have a number of friends in committed relationships of differing types: some are married; some are married in an open relationship; some are living together but not married; some are living together, not married, and don't plan on getting married; and some are in a long-term relationship but not living together. In essence, they cover the basic spectrum of heterosexual partnerships (yes, I'm limiting myself, but I just don't have that many gay friends at the moment, curse my luck).

I've always been open about my support for all kinds of different pairings, and I try to be honest about what would work for me. In the past, I was openly dating two guys at the same time; in the past, I was also not-openly dating two guys at the same time. In the present, I'm living with someone with whom I share a committed, monogamous relationship. I've also had friends with benefits.

I have found, through trial and error, that what works best for me, provided the relationship is good, is the situation in which I now find myself. However, in the past, when I was in relationships that weren't good, it was not unknown for me to ... alter the circumstances (see above re: not-openly dating two guys at the same time). In short, yes, I cheated. I don't condone it, I don't feel it was the best course of action at the time, but it was what it was and that was that.

The motivations behind the actions were varied, and often tied to sex (duh, right?). I had a lot of bad sex in my past. Unsatisfying, boring, with partners that couldn't seem to learn regardless of the direction, and so on. Sometimes, I was just looking for something different.

At one point, I discovered that someone that I was spending time with (who shall remain nameless, unless he wants to out himself), had similar kinky interests to my own, and we explored those together. I was open with the DB about my kinky interests (without going into gory details of who and what, a policy we've kept with regards to past relationships over all), and one evening on a drive home, he basically asked me if I was going to want an open relationship to allow me to explore my kinky interests, which he doesn't share.

Because the DB doesn't share these interests, an acquaintance who is kinky called him boring. I guess in that regard, he could be perceived as such. However, on the grand scale of relationships, one must weigh what one's priorities are in regards to said relationship -- and even on a personal level, how highly said priorities rate.

I was a fairly curious sexual adventurer, and as such tried a lot of different things. My overarching philosophy was always one of, "how can I know I don't like it unless I try it?" -- with some limitations for things that were simply a flat-out no from the start. Through trial-and-error I learned what I find to be a turn-on, and what I feel works best in fantasy.

Now, combine fantasy with my tendency to ... romanticize, for lack of a better word, elements of sex -- leaving out the awkward parts, the uncomfortable moments, or the times when I was just plain bored -- and I can come up with some pretty hot scenarios. Maybe my more kinky tendencies would be enjoyable were they to take place with the right person, someone I feel committed to, cared for by, in love with, whatever, but my experience taught me that a lot of it was just more enjoyable in my brain than in real life.

Lots of things were still very hot in real life, in case you're wondering.

So, do I want to go elsewhere to explore my kinky side? No, I really don't. Am I unhappy with my sex life? I have my grumbles of which the DB is aware, but overall, I'm pleased.

If we return to our original subject matter, the question of The One -- how do I feel about that? Do I believe there's one special person out there for each of us? I honestly don't know. I think there are a small number of people with whom we're compatible, and therein lies individual choices about the sacrifices or priorities we have to make.

For some people, smoking is a total deal-breaker, for example. For others, it's not a selling point, but it's tolerable, and the last group, it's irrelevant to their decision. Sex lives are also like this -- some people just don't have a large sex drive, whereas others do. Individuals have to determine for themselves whether they can tolerate having more or less sex than their own personal preference.

And now I've rambled enough that I feel I can get into some more salacious information without getting into too much trouble.

I've seen a number of my friends pair up. I readily admit that the aspects of the relationship I see will a) be coloured based on my worldview and/or knowledge of the couple/individuals; b) never be the full picture, even if I'm speaking to one member of the couple about the details of said relationship.

I can say this because we do have a tendency to complain more than we praise our partners, in general. And when we do tend to gush about our partners, it generally evokes something similar to a gag or vomit reflex in those unfortunate souls subjected to said gushing. I experienced this with a new hire at one place of business -- she went on about how her and her partner were SO in love (a direct quote) and how it was just as passionate as when they first started dating, etc., etc., complete with effusive hand gestures and the clasping of the hands to her ample bosom. I wish I was kidding. She was also only one year my junior. She was later mocked fairly mercilessly by myself and another who were subject to this display -- and it was shared and reenacted for others. I've never claimed to be especially nice, particularly when I'm being egged on by others with similar opinions.

So yes, it can be challenging to speak in glowing terms on a regular basis about our chosen victims. Especially because ultimately we're all human and we do get on one another's nerves. I've lived with the DB for nearly a year now, and there are plenty of times that we piss one another off -- do notice I said that's mutual behaviour. And sometimes, we feel the need to vent about our partner's behaviour(s) to sympathetic ears. Sometimes, said sympathetic ears may get the wrong impression of our significant others, and may start to question just what it is that you, the complainer, sees in such an aggravating person -- so venting can require balance.

Or, the sympathetic ear has to weigh the complaints and the frequency of complaints if they're going to say something. Some sympathetic ears simply recognize that they're only getting one small piece of the puzzle, made grander by the immediacy of the frustration, and say nothing. That said, some people are more inclined to take sides and, especially if they are only ever hearing one side of the complaining, refuse to believe that the person being complained about has any redeeming qualities. Not that I'm bitter at all, no, of course not. Good riddance to that so-called friend, certainly.

There are some complaints that warrant action or concern -- namely, abuse. Physical, mental, emotional, even abuse of pets or children in place of the partner; these are major concerns. I have a male friend who related to me an instance when his girlfriend attempted to throw a lamp at his head -- I told him to get out and not look back. I listened to him attempt to explain the situation, tell me how his girlfriend was being overly emotional and didn't mean it, etc., etc., and I asked him what he'd tell me if this situation was playing out in reverse. Sure, maybe I was being too cut-and-dried, maybe she really was affected by medication she was on and all that, but seriously -- if someone tries to throw a lamp at your head, it may be time to rethink the relationship.

I have another male friend who used to relate to me domestic tales that were extremely overwrought and over dramatic and so on. I used to ask how things were going in crazytown, and other equally supportive questions (I'm a peach). He once told me that yes, while his partner was crazy, she wasn't as crazy as his past partners, so it was good. Again, let's change this up a little -- if someone tells me that yes, their partner is abusive, but not as abusive as their past partners, I'm not sure I'm telling them that this relationship is an improvement. And yes, here was a case where I was definitely only getting one side of the story and in select pieces, but... I've never claimed to lack for opinions. And contrary to popular belief, I share only a fraction of them.

Oh yeah, people would have trouble in my head. :/

Sometimes, opinions are formed just from exposure to or general knowledge of the couple. Even in long-term relationships, outsiders can form and share the opinion that the people in the couple either aren't meant to be together or just shouldn't be -- either because of how they interact as a couple, or maybe from genuine dislike of one half of the couple. Sometimes people stay together or take steps together because it's the next thing to do on the Grand Checklist of Life -- and not because they should take those steps together. Sometimes this results in divorce shortly after marriage; sometimes it shouldn't even result in marriage.

But once again, those are outsiders looking in. I've witnessed couples who interacted as though they were barely more than passing acquaintances -- how was I to know how they acted together in private? In this instance, they pretty much hadn't had sex together in two years (and this was maybe a 2 1/2 year relationship), but for all I knew they swung from the chandeliers the minute everyone else left. I've had boyfriends who didn't care to kiss in front of others, who didn't hold my hand, who would grab my boobs in front of my friends... I've witnessed couples who probably would've had sex in front of me if I was okay with it. I know of one couple where the guy masturbated the girl to orgasm behind their friend who was using the computer; there are couples who don't even like to acknowledge to others the frequency of their sexual encounters.

My point being, sure, I can and routinely do form opinions on relationships, and maybe I'm completely correct in my belief that said couple isn't meant to be together -- but in the end, what I know amounts to a pile of very little, no matter how verbosely I may say it.

And you know what? I think I'm going to continue this mental diarrhea on another occasion. While I do have a point, and I'm trying to get at it, the little bastard seems particularly elusive this evening -- and I think I want to do a bit of reading before bed.