Through the Looking Glass

As I'm writing this, I'm looking out the window.

I'm looking out the window at the sunlight hitting the buildings I can see. Bright, strong, almost blinding sunlight.

And in the background, behind the building that's furthest from where I'm sitting, the sky is purple. Cloud purple. Storm purple.

Nature is amazing.

I'd take a photo, but it never comes out the way it looks.

Well, Let Me Tell You

So, what did I do this weekend, you asked?

Well, ok, maybe you didn't ask, but it's a cute intro, no? No? Oh well, never mind. I tried.

My weekend seems years ago, not days ago. It was one of those weekends. One of those weekends that stick with you for a while. One of those weekends that leave you wondering.

And hopefully, smiling.

There was bacon involved, and the calling of friends to go out and eat some with in the late morning. There was being at a pub until closing and realizing that neither of us knew it had gotten that late. There was Luminara, Victoria's lantern festival and the exhalation of held breath when I left at the end and hadn't run into my Ex.

There was catching up with old friends, realizing we've known each other almost half our lives and talking about all the crushes we had, all the parties we went to; reliving all the fun times and forgetting any bad times. There was falling asleep on said old friends' bed for a cat nap after discussing when and why guys had to re-position their "goods" and what, exactly, was so annoying about having a penis.

And then there was me, before the drinks had even been served, turning to my companion and asking if he'd ever sleep with me; if the thought had ever crossed his mind. And then there was spending the rest of the evening telling myself that just because he'd said yes, didn't give me the right to lean over and kiss him, as much as I might, in that moment, want to.

So, glad you asked?

Really Bizarre and Random Question of the Day*

Which dead rock star would you like to go back in time and sleep with?

Me? I'm going with Jimi.

*I know, weird right? There are posts stuck in my head that I need to take the time to get out. Meanwhile, this is what you get.

Um

Do you ever get that weird thing happening where you put on your mascara and it looks fine, but as soon as you leave the bathroom you realize that somehow there's a bit that feels like a blob and freaks you out when you look certain ways?

Yeah. Bet you didn't sit down to write a post about it before fixing it though.

Imprinted

These past few days have made me thoughtful; full of thought and the one that's swirling in my head the most right now is the memory from two nights ago of spotting DD in the grocery store.

How is it that after so many years, I can walk down the aisle of a grocery store, glance up, see someone's back a t-shirt, a curl of hair sticking out from under a ball cap and know, just *know* it's him?

How is it that I can have slept with other people since him, have fallen in and out of love with other people since him, and still, still I'm shaken by him showing up again?

Are there different levels of getting over someone? Or did I always know I was still missing him? And if so, what, exactly, was it that I missed?

I can't get it back, I see that now. There's no attraction there anymore and my life's not in a place where I'd put up with his sh*t anymore. But there was. And I did.

And I'm trying to figure out why it was so familiar to see him again. Why I could almost feel him when I turned down the aisle the other night.

Will I ever be able to pass him in a crowd without knowing or is he imprinted forever in my memory?

Why?

Hey, Guess What?

I didn't go out at all last night.

On purpose.

While I was tempted to push fate and see just how many nights in a row I could run into DD, I decided it'd be easier to just stay home.

And not run into him at all.

I'll have to go out tomorrow though.

Wouldn't want to turn into a hermit.

Thrice

That's three nights in a row now folks.


I'm not even kidding.


Although I kind of wish I was.


It's all very bizarre.


And is starting to be funny.


When I saw him last night I told him I guessed I'd see him tomorrow.


Ha. Ha. H..... uh.


Wait. That's not actually funny.


I have no idea what to say anymore.


I just really hope tomorrow's post is about something other than randomly running into my ex.

OK, Seriously, What The Frak*?

All I wanted was a movie. Something to finish off the night.

What I didn't want, was to run into my Ex. Again. For the second time in two nights.

Three years, I don't see this guy, and now I see him two nights in a row. Not OK. I'm not OK with that. He's invading my space. He's showing up in my territory. And, worse than that, it's all freaking me out just a little too much.

It was going to be a two minute trip; I knew exactly what I was going to rent and as I was motoring down the aisle to pick up the disc I heard someone call my name. And somehow as I turned I knew it was him. Wasn't surprised. Probably because I'd already seen him almost exactly 24 hours before that.

He'd shaved off his beard. That was the first thing I noticed.

He smelled like he'd had a few beers. That was the second thing I noticed.

He'd gotten himself a tattoo. That was the third thing I noticed.

I wanted him to both ask me out and disappear forever at the same time. That was the fourth thing I noticed.

We talked. Caught up on what he's been doing. And I can't remember if I ever mentioned this, but when I last spoke to Smith, I was irritated to hear that he was doing a lot of the things I'd suggested he do when he was struggling with things. At the time, it kind of felt like I'd had these helpful, great ideas but they weren't what he wanted. Until a year later when he suddenly came up with this great idea to do X,Y,Z, conveniently forgetting that that's exactly what I suggested when trying to "save" our relationship.

And now, I just got to have the same conversation with another Ex. He told me about how he's settling down. How he's tired of a job that takes him away for half a year at a time and how I would know better than most how hard that is. And he told me about how he's going to be wearing a suit, come fall, doing a "grown up" job. All the things he wasn't able, ready, or willing to do when we were together and I was suggesting things that would help make our relationship work.

And he asked me how the spy work was going and I told him it was good.

He asked me if I was going to an upcoming festival. I told him, honestly, that I didn't know. That I might be away that weekend. He told me he was surprised, that it was my thing, my favourite.

I was surprised that he'd noticed; that he'd known me that well.

He told me that he was doing really really well. That his friends all missed me; that I'd been their favourite. I smiled at this, he did have some cool people he hung out with... I just wish I'd known then that they liked me for who I was and didn't just like me because I was with him.

He seemed awkward, I could feel it, and that's probably fair seeing the way he ended things and the way he left me reeling and hurt. He got his phone out a couple of times and I was horrified that he might ask me for my number. In fact, when we started talking about what movies we were thinking of renting, I was scared witless that he might ask to come over and watch one with me.

I was equally scared that I might be so polite as to ask if he wanted to come over and watch one with me.

I might have, too.

And that scared me.

I told him I was sure I'd see him around and that it was good to see him. One of those things is true.

I don't want to see him around, I don't want to have to pretend he wasn't an ass to me. I don't want to pretend that I didn't love him. I don't want to pretend that I don't still think about him from time to time. I don't want to pretend that we didn't share the most magical moment I've ever had in my life; a moment we talked about later as being the most amazing connection either of us had ever shared. I don't want to pretend that he didn't leave me hurting.

But I can also see and know him well enough to know that he's not the guy who's able to have the conversation to move through all that stuff. He's not the guy to be friends with.

He's the guy, that if I do go to that festival, I'll make sure I go with friends; protection. And, he's the guy that the next time I'm out and about with Bird, I'll hope to run into. And he's the guy that I'll just let assume Bird is my boyfriend. Fiance. Husband. Lover. He's the guy I hope doesn't want to try to catch up on "old times." He's the guy I don't want to run into again because it's too much effort.

It was friendly, our meeting. I felt protective of his awkwardness; didn't want to make him any more uncomfortable than he already seemed. I was polite, friendly, kind. I think I genuinely cared. I also wanted him to like me; to be attracted to me all over again. I wanted him to see everything he'd missed out on, everything he wasn't getting, everything he'd given up. I wanted him to want me and to leave, upset that he no longer had me. So I asked all the right questions and I smiled and nodded and listened when, really, most of me didn't want to be there. Didn't want to be catching up on his life and the things he's doing.

I was surprised at the choices he's made, it seems like he's losing part of what made him so charming, and that was a little sad. I wonder what more he might have wanted to say. I caught him mumbling about how strange it was to find himself talking to me in public after five years. He wondered why it made him so nervous.

Guilt, perhaps?

Looking at a genuinely good person that you treated poorly? That'll make you feel nervous, I'd guess.

It was strange seeing him. Even stranger talking to him. Downright bizarre playing the friendly ex-girlfriend who's all pulled together and happy to see you. Pulled together, I am, and I looked downright hot (he mentioned as much). Happy to see him? Not so much.

Strange. Strange. Strange.

I burst into tears when I got home. I'm not 100% sure why. Scared of what I might let myself get pulled back into? Sad for what I once dreamed we could build together? Hurt that he gave me up for something he's no longer pursuing?

I guess I'm happy that I was polite to him and that I cared about him as a person.

I'm also happy that I was able to call a couple friends and talk to some on line after it happened. And then watch my video. And then write out a post.

I just hope that as the next few days go by I don't keep hearing things he said pop into my head like I have for the past few hours.

And I also hope that I don't run into him again for a while. If ever.

Or that if I do, I'm on the arm of a super hot guy so that he thinks I'm not single, because then I wouldn't have to cringe every time the phone rings, wondering if it's him.

Now I just need to figure out what the Universe is trying to tell me.

Why, exactly, is this guy showing up now, after years? Y E A R S. And two nights in a row too. And why has he moved into my neighbourhood. And why does he still remember so much about me? And why do I care?

What am I supposed to learn? Figure out?

Anyone?

Please tell me we're not going to get back together.

He's not even that cute anymore.

Funny how that happens.

I think I need a drink. And a nap. I'm utterly exhausted.


*I'm on Season 3.

Shaky

Just ran into one of my exes.

Like, right now.

Except, I probably won't post this til tomorrow morning, so, I guess I ran into my ex last night.

Or whatever. I'll post this. And then I won't *just* have ran into my ex, but as of right now, as of this writing, I just ran into my ex.

This one. DD, the drunk dialer. Him.

He who hasn't been seen in years. Even though he's the only one of my exes from the last few years who lives in town, I never see him.

But I just did.

I didn't talk to him, had my earphones in, saw him, smirked at him as I walked by, wondered if he recognized me, wondered why I smirked, wished I'd stopped and talked to him, felt glad that I didn't stop and talk to him and then I found myself getting a little dizzy and realized I'd forgotten to keep breathing.

Walked the rest of the way home feeling like he was following me, wondering what he was doing and wondering why he still hasn't shaved off his beard.

It's all struck me harder than I would have thought and I'm feeling a little weird. Hopefully that'll pass, and hopefully he doesn't still have my number.

Weird.

Need to shake this one off.

Limited Time Offer!

It's all gone tonight folks!

Hey

D'you know what's fun?

When you're talking to your friend about the rainshower that came out of nowhere and telling him to be careful biking home and then you go into your bedroom and remember that you put your pillows out the window that morning to get some fresh air.

Whoops!

Good thing there was time for them to dry before bed, eh?

A friend is someone who knows your song, and sings it to you when you’ve forgotten it yourself.

~ Alan Cohen

I'll Buy What They're Selling

I just got a spam message that I was tempted to forward to all my ex (and future) boyfriends.

"Make sure she achieves her climax 5 times every night"

Yes, please do!

Recent Video Watching Escapades Volume 1

While watching Cloverfield:
My friend turns to her boyfriend and says "Sweetie, the filming's not making you sick or anything? You ok?" He assures her he's having no problem with it. I, however, have to spend the next ten minutes watching the wall. Apparently you can *suggest* nausea to me and I'll catch it.

While watching the excellent Control:
I'm surprised to find myself bawling my eyes out and nearly hyperventilating when the main character commits suicide. Surprising, since this is the fictionalized story of Ian Curtis of Joy Division and I already know he's going to commit suicide.

While watching Atonement:
Me, for a grand majority of the movie: "Seriously. What is going on? "

Laughing Out Loud

So a lot of the time when I'm doing something mindless, (like showering) my brain runs off with itself and has a little affair. Sometimes I come up with great thoughts or solutions to problems in these moments, so I'll often half-listen in to my mind....ramblings.

Like yesterday.

I was getting changed at the gym when I started to think about stationary bikes. I haven't been on one in a while since it seems to make my back feel icky and I was wondering if maybe I should try it again. But that reminded me of my co-worker who borrowed her boyfriends bike and went for a long ride and ended up with a sore back. So then I started thinking about how much I enjoy the treadmill, where I can just walk and read and zone out and wouldn't it be nice if there was, similar to the stationary/real outdoor bike situation, a treadmill type thing that you could take outside and actually use to travel around outdoors. While walking.

And then I realized what I was thinking because part of my brain said "WHAT? LIKE FEET?"

And I burst out laughing.

In public.


Damn, my brain is funny!

Updated to add (because seriously!):

Found by the lovely S.

I don't even know what to say.

Really.


Treadmill Bike

Out of Sorts

Now, it doesn't help *at all* that I'm writing this post while under the (very strange) influence of a Robaxacet, (and, no don't bother reading the possible side effects, in fact, don't do medical research via Google and the internet at all ever because you will always, always end up dying of something really bad. Um where was I? Oh yeah...) but I've been feeling quite out of sorts lately.

I'm guessing it's a combination of things including a large spy project coming to an end and knowing I won't be working on it again and knowing I won't be working with some of those spy peoples again. It's bizarre to put so much of yourself into something and then let it go. But wait! I don't talk about work, so, um, yeah. Let's just ignore this last paragraph shall we?

There's also my back that went majorly weird in a completely different way than last time and my physio's away and I couldn't get any "professional" help til next week (wait, why did I put professional in quotes? I don't know either.) and that made me feel scared and old and unsure if I should rest or not rest or why doesn't this body thing come with an owner's manual anyway? I don't even know what I did, was it that spy move I did, was it going up three pounds in free weights, was it sitting for two hours putting together a photo album from two years ago? (Yes, two years. I'm a little behind. What?)

So, I have no idea where this post is going, but let it be a lesson to all you young kids out there that drugs are bad. Even the ones you can buy over the counter because, hello? One day I'm going to read this post and wonder why I let myself post it.

Summer's here, and that's good. I still hang out with Bird every once in a while and am no longer wanting to get him in my pants (it's subtly different from wanting to get in his pants) except when something sets my hormones raging.

Like this:

Sebastian Pigott - Bring it on Home to Me

Which then led me to this. Which, awesomely, COMPLETELY cheered me up!

Led Zeppelin - Bring it on Home

And that's why they're Gods. Amen.

And now this post just ends.

To The Super Hot Guy In The Blue Truck

Dude,

Wow.
Seriously.

Speechless,

Victoria

S

I know, I know, it's a dumb post title, but, really, I had to.

I realized Tuesday, that both my post titles so far started with the letter S. Then I realized they were getting smaller.

And then my brain just froze and got all weird and insisted I go from a three letter S word to a two letter S word to a one letter S word.

But there isn't one.

So here's my "S" post.

And now my brain can be happy.

Happier.

There's something significant I think I was supposed to do today, but I can't remember what it was. Eleventh, anyone?



Updated to add: No, not this. That's not what I was thinking of.

So

Remember when, a while back, after this post, McGone made the comment that I should make business cards to leave behind saying "Dude, you made my day"

And I thought "hey, that's a cute, nice idea."

And everyone else seemed to agree.

So I thought "What the heck."

And here's what I did:



Now I just have to get out there and use 'em.

Anyone want some "you made my day" Moo cards?

Say

Say Victoria,
I've noticed that you've been using a lot of videos lately, most notably, a couple of beer commercial videos. Is there something you're trying to tell us here? Are you, like, addicted to beer? Or videos? Let me know if you need help. I'm always here for you.
Your biggest fan.

Hey Blog Observer and Critic Extrodinare From Inside My Own Head,
Thanks for your concern. No, I'm not addicted to beer, thanks. In fact, I can't say I've ever really enjoyed it. Sure, I drank it a fair amount in high school (No Mom, I didn't! I'm just joking. I didn't drink 'til legal drinking age and always in moderation.) but that was because even though I preferred coolers, guys tended to buy beer and that's who I was scoring drinks from. You do what you have to do when you're underage with no job or ability to buy tasty sweet girly California Coolers.
But I digress. I've never enjoyed beer, despite my occasional forays into the Great Canadian Beer Fest and now beer's officially on my "do not consume unless you want that painful stomach thing to happen" list from the allergist. (Along with many other things, some missed, some not) So, no. I'm not addicted to beer, thanks.
As for videos, I wouldn't say I'm addicted, no. See, I was looking for a good, proud Canadian photo to put up for Canada Day and couldn't find the one I took that I was thinking of. So I started searching the internets for other Canadiana and remembered that "The Code" ad that I always thought was funny. So I put that on. But then, just like when I found the never-ending vending machine links (curse you You Tube and your "related videos" clicky links) I started watching more and more Molson "I Am" ads and found that other one that kind of makes fun of Americans and Canadians at the same time so I put that one up for the Fourth of July and now I feel like I'm defending myself which makes me wonder if maybe I *do* have an addiction to videos.
I could stop, though, if I wanted to.

Sold

I used to watch a lot of music videos. Mainly because I could. Or couldn't. See, I was forbidden to watch them while living with my parents since my Mom (quite rightly the way I see it now in my all grown up* wisdom mind you) felt they were "bubble gum for the mind" and "semi-pornographic". So when my folks were out, or when I eventually lived on my own I watched a lot of music videos.

Sometimes I find that the moment of when I first hear a song combined either with the video or the situation will cement that song into my mind as awesome. Forever. I've found some cool new artists this way and was reminded (by a trip into American Eagle Outfitters the other day, did you know they play music and music videos in the shop REALLY LOUD AND WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY I CAN'T HEAR YOU OVER THE MUSIC?) of how much I love Ben Harper.

This is the song, and video that sold me on him. I'm still digging it. And him. Rock on brothers.**


Ben Harper - Ground on Down

*All grown up? Ha! Who are we kidding?

**Please tell me Desmond will still be around next season, brother?

Sniff

Things have been a little, nay, a lot sad around here these past few days as one of my favourite husbands* has moved on.

Markus Naslund, my team Captain (damnit, now I have to say "former team Captain" Boooo!) and utterly hunky lovey dovey, has left to join another team, leaving me with no one cute on my roster.

I mean, not that my remaining boys are ugly, it's just that compared to Markus, no one's anywhere near as cute. *sigh*

I can't believe it's come to this: I need a new husband. Goodbye Markie-Warkie. Thanks for the memories. I'll settle for custody of the team in the settlement. I'll miss you!


*Please don't bring up the fact that I'm only married to him in my imagination, I don't need any more sadness right now people!

Holy Hotness Batman

I may be single, but I'm not immune to the utterly sexy:



Day Dream - Sebastian Pigott

I've got me some serious Pigott crushes.

Because, seriously? Since when did "Umbrella" make me want to get naked?

Exactly.

And, really? I don't care if I'm on my own on this one. That melted me.

I may, officially, be a sucker for musicians.

But July Lays A Hand Of Blond All Through Your Hair

What's your favourite part of summer?

PS

Molson Canadian "The Code" (Continued)


Happy Canada Day, eh?


(Oh, and? Six of these apply to me.)