broken barrier

he farted in front of me. It was awesome.
You may wonder why, but for me it was a new level in our relationship. We talked about it. We talked about pooping too. Which makes things less awkward and constipated feeling all around. Not like we'll go around farting in front of each other all the time now. Because that's not romantic or conducive to getting it on. Everything just feels more honest now. And really, what's love but still liking your partner even when they're stinky once in a while.

why running is unladylike

I was running to catch a light the other morning, and all of a sudden had a sharp pain on my shin. Looking down, I saw my iPhone flying towards a patch of grass and realized my bag had flown open. Looking up the path I’d been running, I realized my things were strewn all over the place and would have to (ungraciously) go and retrieve them.

Suddenly, I flashed back to a moment several months ago when I was working on a media availability with my EVP. He wanted to go see the space we planned to use and I was just finishing up an email as he was walking out the door. I ran to catch up in my heels and dress and he gave me a look like I was on another planet. “Why would you run?” he said. I was mortified.

These two experiences have led me to the conclusion that running is unladylike and should be avoided at all costs. If you want to arrive as a lady: calm, collected, put together – you walk. If you want to arrive looking like an unorganized sloppy teenager, and feel like one, you run. Just think of the image of everything flopping and the sweat slowly accumulating under your arms and on your forehead. Do you think Elizabeth Taylor ever arrived anywhere looking like that? No. She made it a point to be late. She was even late for her funeral. So, in the interests of everyone you're meeting, running should be relegated to you’re late for a plane, train or bus (that you cannot catch the next one), or you’re running for sport (i.e. dressed to sweat).

life makes me miss you

I spent two hours on Sunday night being completely annoyed by Elizabeth Gilbert’s narcissism for a third time (read the book and another one of her books) while viewing the film version of Eat, Pray, Love. The scenery however, was not hard to look at. Hello James Franco and Javier Bardem. One thing stuck with me though. There’s a part where Julia is shacking up with James as her rebound man and they’re in some studio apartment in Brooklyn spending copious amounts of time together (probably due to being broke and living in such a small place) and he says to her, “You never give me a chance to miss you.”

Lately I don’t want a chance to miss him. I miss him all day when I’m at work and I miss him nights where we don’t sleep together. Sometimes we spend the entire 48 hours of the weekend together and I worry that maybe he’s bored or it’s too much, but it doesn’t seem like that at all. We can sit around doing nothing, but we’re doing nothing together and it feels so much better that way. I’m sure we’re still in what’s called the ‘honeymoon stage’ but it just seems to get better and better. I’m going to enjoy these rose tinted lenses for now. And luckily, life gives me a chance to miss him all the time.

bits

This is the best I've felt on March 18th for the last three years. I never expect to party that hard on St. Paddy's day for a few reasons; I'm not a bit Irish, it's during the week, and I don't like green beer. But somehow I always end up with a large guilt sprial the next day, unable to get out of bed. Calling in sick every March 18th really doesn't fly after a while.

Last night, was fun, random, with lots of memorable bits:

I met some guys in line, one was wearing a denim scarf, we got to talking while we waited together and he asked me for my number before he decided to quit waiting. He said he wanted to take me on a date. This is the first time this has happened since I've been with my guy, and I tried not to make it too awkward.

me: "Ummmmm, I don't think so"
him: "How come?"
me: "I've got a man, but we could go on a friend date?"

That was definitley not a good tactic either, because, understandably, my guy didn't like that at all. Maybe just one of those moments you don't share. Except now line dude is texting me. Dilemma ensues.

Then there was the guy with a dreadlock mowhawk. Yes. Just think on that for a while. It was epic. Who proposed to me on one knee while I was waiting at the bar for a drink. Him and his buddy thought I looked just like Michelle Pfeiffer. That tells me they're old.

Then my guy surprised me and showed up and told me he loved me. Even better, he brought me advil and orange juice this morning and made me pancakes while I was still sleeping. BOOM. Love that. I'm definitley a happy girl today.

blue valentine

Happy Valentines to all the lovers out there. I think I woke up on the wrong side of bed. Perhaps the expectation that you should be feeling happy on a day like today, or that I woke up and realized that my lover was thousands of kilometres away and I was alone in bed, wide awake at a ridiculous hour this morning that really got me going. Or, the colleague who chattered in my ear incessantly about benign items after he spurned an asinine media availability that I had to be his bitch for. Or, it could be the large amount of people asking stupid questions, perhaps due to being love struck-but unfortunately, not mute at the same time.

There are a few things that make me happy inside today (which unfortunately is not translating to my face, sacre bleu, this may cause some wrinkles if I don’t lighten up).

1. The thought of drinking wine and eating copious amounts of chocolate tonight---not because I need to, because I CAN, because that seems to be acceptable behaviour for Valentines Day.

2. Hot pink lace panties I bought as a V day gift for myself. Peeing is cheerful!

3. The red travel mug my parents got me for V day. It keeps my beverages cold or hot for up to 4 hours. Nerdy, I know, but really really awesome.

4. The Reese heart one of my co workers gave me at 9 am. I would have killed someone if not for the sugar fix.

I know it’s not much, but on a day like today, one must console oneself with the small pleasures in life. The big ones don’t always coincide with a day earmarked for lovers.

mush brain

Another reason I haven’t been writing. I doubt most people want to hear the gooey shit that’s oozing out of my pores right now. It’s pretty surprising/gross, even to me. I mean ‘yay! I’m capable of these emotions’, but at the same time, wow, I have nothing hard hitting, witty or caustic to say. It’s not like I’m a different person, I’m just a ridiculously happy person right now, who thinks and writes crap like:

It’s that happy sigh; you can feel with your whole body. When you wake up and you realize you’re so close you could crawl into the other person if it were physically possible. Sleep is so sweet when it’s in perfect tandem.

Gag. Maybe eventually I’ll get my brain back to solid from it’s current mushy state.

why i've been remiss

I realize I haven't been on here for about a month. Some explaination as to why:

Because, on our first date he knew what I was about. I’d never been with a ‘good guy’ and my patience and my heart work against me even when I know it’s wrong; therefore a prelediction towards sustained emotional abuse. It gave me shivers at how well he could see me. They continue....

Because I’m deliriously happy and don’t feel the need to expel the pain through writing about it here and I want to keep it all to myself because it feels really good.

Because at this moment, everything in my life seems to be shining in a soft rosy glow due to the above, and I have nothing to bitch about.

Because I’m scared to talk about it because it almost seems to good to be true.