It's The Twenty Ninth of February

Happy Leap Year!

I...Don't Even

This is the second time I've seen this and I still don't think I can do it justice here. It really is one of those things you have to see.

And even then, it's kind of...well...odd.

Ok. I want you to imagine two twenty-something year old guys at the gym. Maybe one of them has a sleeve tattoo, or an earring or something, it doesn't really matter. They're attractive guys, they obviously work out and are fit.

Now, the gym I go to is a really mellow gym, and is a real mix and is generally not about how you look (which I understand some gyms are.)

And I'm sure it's possible there's something I'm missing or not understanding and possibly this is a very important technique and my wanting to giggle every time I see it is just proof of how little I know.

These two guys, go to one side of the cardio workout area, and do a synchronized free weight lifting...thing.

I mean, like, they both go through this series of moves, with their weights, at the same time. Together. Synchronized.

I can't begin to explain to you how funny I find it.

Seriously. Imagine, if you can, these two guys, and now, they're not just standing watching each other do pushups or situps or bicep curls (which is what usually happens, they watch each other so one's resting while the other's working) they do it at the same time. EVERYTHING!

I can't even describe to you how their workout goes because I can't watch it! BECAUSE IT'S SYNCHRONIZED!

Like, really. Picture a hot twenty something year old guy doing ten lunges. And now picture another good looking guy next to him also doing ten lunges. At. The. Exact. Same. Time.

I don't even know what to say.

I'm trying to be logical. Maybe they're on a sports team and this is part of their training to learn to work together? Like maybe they're rowers and it's important that they synchronize their efforts so they can do better? Right? Cuz otherwise it's...kind of .... odd.

But whatever the reason, the gym twins make me giggle.

C-C-C-C-Changes

When I got to my most recent breaking point with my weight one of the things I really didn't want to do was track my food. But I think I so strongly didn't want to do it because I knew I had to.

I told myself that all I needed to do was track my food. I didn't have to try to change anything, just keep a track of it and that that would help steer me in a better direction.

So I've been using a food tracking app on my phone for just over a month now. And it's been fine.

I set up the app to guide me towards losing a pound a month, but the number of calories it suggested I aim for seemed low and when I talked to some friends at work, they told me it seemed low to them as well so I aimed for just under 2000 calories a day, and I tracked.

I did pretty well, hitting my goal most days, and noticing I needed more protein and less sugar.

But a month in, I'm the same weight I was, so I did some more research and it turns out that I will need to further reduce my calories.

In other words, I need to eat less if I want to actually lose weight.

So I'm going to try.

The app I'm using is really helping and I'm hoping that knocking off a few hundred calories from my daily intake is going to be manageable.

My plan is to eat more filling foods, and more protein, and more vegetables. And? I need to cut back on my snacks and sweets. But I'm not going to push that one too hard. Not yet, anyway.

This last month has made me more aware of what I'm eating, and I haven't been very aware of my food since the whole Celiac/stomach pain thing started. (And yes, I have been with Weight Watchers in the past, and yes, I'd recommend them.)

And yesterday, I used Captain Google and I went and bought some lean ground beef, and I added a few spices and garlic and I cooked me up some taco salad beef! Me! I cooked it! And it was super easy!

So while I may balk at change and dislike it, when I take the pressure off myself, and ease into things that need to happen, I manage.

Here's hoping the next month is as easy and positive as this last month and that I come out of it a little bit lighter in pounds.

I Could Use Some Hugs

I've been feeling pretty low this week and, perhaps predictably, this has turned into me feeling really poorly about how I look, and that spirals inevitably into the thought that I'm going to be lonely and alone forever because if even *I* can't find myself attractive, then no one ever will.

And even knowing that I was low didn't help my mindset, and after struggling with it all week, I called my Dad.

Now, I don't know about your parents, but mine will usually give it to me straight, even when/if I don't necessarily want them to, so I knew if I called and told them how I was feeling, there'd be some sensible advice. And I hoped that that would start to snap me out of the funk I was in.

I told Dad how I was feeling and he said he could only imagine how hard it must be for me to be alone and that they both felt sad for me at times.

Then Mom came on and I told her that I felt like no one would ever want to see me naked and that I wish I'd met my husband back when my body was lean and fit and how she was lucky and could she imagine if Dad had met her now? He wouldn't want to see her naked!

"Yes he would!" she said. "Because he'd be single too!"

And, of course, I laughed, while crying, because if I do ever end up with someone, he won't have the same body he would have if we'd met a decade ago, and there may be wrinkles or missing hair or other things he's not so fond of on him.

My parents then went on to tell me that I am still very attractive, and that their friends tell them as much as well.

And it meant a lot to hear that because my parents wouldn't just say that just to say it, you know? I mean, sure, everyone thinks their child is gorgeous, but my parents are also able to tell us kids when we need to smarten up or dress in a more flattering way or maybe watch what we eat or whatever. So while I still spent a good half hour after I talked to them crying on my couch, I felt a little bit better knowing that I'm not as ugly and unattractive as I talked myself into feeling this week.

I don't know if it helped to say it out loud and have someone listen and tell me I was wrong, or if it helped to hear that at least someone out there thinks I'm attractive.

Even if it's the sixty-something year old friends of my parents. This week? I'll take it.

Riiiiight

You know that moment where you go to sit down and then remember that you did squats at the gym yesterday?

Yeah.

Ouch.

Oh!

I forgot to tell you the other hilarious story from the gym the other day!

So, there I am, leaving post yoga class, feeling proud of myself and collecting my things from the change room.

There's a conversation going on in one half of the change room when something starts buzzing.

It sounds, at first, like someone's cell phone going off on silent mode, but it keeps on buzzing.

Quite loudly.

And the two women who are having the conversation notice it and wonder what is is that's making that noise in someone's bag.

"It's really intense" says one woman, which makes me giggle, because my mind has already figured out that it's *not* a cell phone and I can really only think of one other thing it could be, and I don't want to assume someone would have *that* in their gym bag.

"OH!" says the woman, going through her backpack, "it's me!"

"It's my electric toothbrush, it must have gone off!" she explains, and the entire locker room cracks up in laughter, the woman a few lockers down from me shrugging and raising her eyebrows in an amused kind of way.

Turns out, I wasn't the only one there whose mind had already decided someone's ahem, cough, cough, had been accidentally turned on in their gym bag.

Good thing she let us know it was just her toothbrush. Scandal averted, hilarity ensued.

Oh Man

One of the things my physio and rehab people have recommended (as I continue to try to find a way to live pain free from the accident) is yoga. And while I used to enjoy yoga before the accident, the idea of it has made me nervous until very recently.

Which is why I found myself at a beginner's yoga class at the gym last week.

It took a fair amount of nerve to get myself there, it being something new and unfamiliar and "new and unfamiliar" being two things I generally do. not. like.

But once I'd sat there stretching for a few minutes before the teacher arrived, I was happy I'd gone and interested to see what this instructor was like.

Turns out, she was a woman with a slight eastern european type accent.

Which wouldn't have been a problem, except when she told us we'd spend the first ten minutes focussing on our "breast."

Which, was, unfortunately, how she pronounced "breath."

Which....shouldn't be a problem.

Unless you're me.

And you realize this is giving you the giggles.

Especially when she says "now tuck your chin towards your chest and focus on your breast" and I'm sitting there staring at my breasts and telling myself that I had really really really better not start giggling.

Especially since no one else seems to be hearing her say "breast" and then thinking about that fact makes you want to absolutely not laugh which make it even harder to NOT start giggling.

But, I managed to pull it together, and soon enough we moved on from the focus on our "breast" and got on with the rest of the class.

Why do I gotta be so immature?

Close Encounters of the Chad Kind

I was in the grocery store later than usual last weekend on my way home from the gym.

(I tell you this, so you can envision me with my glasses on (because it was dark out and I need them to see when I'm driving in the dark) and my hair pulled back and my gym clothes on. Not my best look really.)

It was the weekend before Valentine's Day so the store was very pink and as I was scrolling my mind through my grocery list, I stopped at the strawberries to find a good box.

And, glancing over, I saw Chad. Just casually going through the boxes of strawberries too.

And I wanted to run far far away.

Which.... there are a few ex-boyfriends (not that I can really call him an ex boyfriend but still) that I'd not want to talk to if I ran into them in the grocery store, but most of them I'd say hi to, and a couple I'd really want to catch up with.

Apparently not Chad.

My brain's thought was that he was buying strawberries to make chocolate covered strawberries for his new girlfriend for Valentine's day and that just set me off down an imaginary road.

I know some of you might say that I should have just said hi. That maybe if I'd said hi he'd be so happy to see me and he'd tell me how he regretted letting me go and we'd get back on track and blah blah blah, but I disagree.

If he'd regretted letting me go, he would have remedied that at some point in the last six months. The reality is that yes, he probably has moved on, and yes, he probably has gotten over his fear of "being in a relationship" or whatever it was.

So maybe he was buying strawberries as a treat for his girlfriend on Valentine's day, maybe he was just buying them because they were a pretty good deal and who doesn't like strawberries.

But, yeah. I nearly ran into Chad in the grocery store and I really really didn't want to talk to him.

Go figure.

Ack!

Oh ugh, I forgot to tell you... I went for a wander last weekend to drop off my dry cleaning at this place in town that does "wet" cleaning, which is apparently more environmentally friendly.

But, that's beside the point.

I was wandering along, when suddenly it felt like something was in the back of my throat.

I tried to ignore it, but I must have swallowed a bug.

Or rather, a bug must have flown into my mouth.

Yuck.

To make it worse, I then started to kind of choke on it. Not exactly "choke" because it just felt like a tiny little speck of a thing but I was coughing and now, in retrospect, I wonder if the thing went down the wrong tube and my lungs were literally trying to cough it out.

Ugh.

So anyway, there's me, trying to drop off my clothes for cleaning, while coughing away and not wanting people to think I'm sick, I say "I think I just swallowed a bug and now I want to die."

But then I noticed a little kid there and thought that was an overly dramatic thing to say so I kind of mumbled about not really wanting to die and it wasn't really a big deal just that I couldn't stop coughing mumble mumble.

But still. I'd rather not think about it too much in case I gross myself out, but you guys I nearly choked on a suicidal mini-bug.

Ack, ack, ack, gross yuck!

Imagination

So I was at the gym the other day when I noticed a gentleman who fit the description my friend has given me of the guy I'm to (hopefully) meet one of these days.

She hasn't described him in more than a general way, but this fellow could have been the guy.

And because my brain tends to go on vacation at the gym (one of the reasons I like it, it tends to be very mellowing for my mind) it decided that it would be funny if this *was* the guy and my mind went on to think that it would be hilarious if the two of us then showed up at my friend's house together, having already met.

See, it's funny, because as hilarious as I think it is, I can already tell that typing it out? It doesn't translate as funny out loud as it does in my head.

But my brain's funny thoughts aside, wouldn't it be weird/cool/funny/something if I met this guy and it turns out that we both workout at the same gym and had nearly run into each other this week?

I don't think I ever really lost that child-like level of imagination I remember having as a kid.

Whoops

A co-spy and I snuck out at lunch the other day and as I was buying my lunch (and treats) I heard a sweet "is that Victoria?"

I turned around, and behind me in line, pushing a little boy in a stroller was a girl I went to University with, and haven't seen since we graduated.

We hugged and caught up and I asked her about her son and how things were going. She knew we had to get back to work, having trained as a spy herself, so she asked for my number and email so we could catch up.

I pulled out a piece of paper and wrote down my name, phone number and home email and gave her a hug and headed back to work thinking about how she didn't look a day older and how lives sometimes just go in separate ways.

I got an email at work later that day (being a former spy, she'd managed to track down my spy email) from this person letting me know that she was so so sorry, but as she was getting her son into the car, the slip of paper flew from her pocket and away across the parking lot.

She said she hoped no strange person would find it and start prank calling me.

Which, so far, so good.

But still, it did make me feel weird knowing that somewhere out there, a perfect stranger might just find my name, email and phone number and decide to pull a prank or something.

Hopefully it'll just end up in the recycling and I won't have to screen my calls or anything.

Sometimes my life's like a movie and has plot lines you wouldn't believe are real.

Maybe Next Next Time

Well, ok.

I was all freaking out Monday because I was going to have that dinner at my friend's place (to meet the guy) this weekend, but she let me know yesterday that we have to postpone again; this time due to her husband needing to fly somewhere for work last minute.

So I guess this may never happen, or it might and I just might not be as worried about it because you can only worry about something that doesn't happen so many times if you know what I mean.

I mean, sure, if it ends up that next weekend (the new proposed dinner night) works out, I'm sure I'll be nervous and anxious, but I might not spend quite as many days being nervous and anxious.

And my friend's going to have me over for dinner this weekend anyway, so that's nice and gives me something to look forward to. (And will still give me something to be nervous about because hello? Something new? = nervous.)

So, yeah. Still haven't met the guy my friend would like me to meet, but maybe next next weekend.

Or not.

Happy Pay Day! (And cheap chocolate day... an excellent combination, no?)

Tuesday

I was just going to skim right over the fact that today's a Valentine's Day. I feel like I summed up my V-Day thoughts pretty well last year, and this year I'd say the only difference is that maybe I'm even less bothered by things.

I've sent out cards to some friends and family, and I don't expect any to come in the mail today, although it would certainly make me smile if one or two did.

I've bought a couple of cute, small treats for some people at work and will look forward to passing those on.

Sure, if I'd met someone a month or two ago, I'd be hoping for roses or something, but I didn't, so I won't. I've learned that once you're out of high school, there really aren't secret admirers just lurking in the background any more.

So, yeah. Happy Valentine's Day or non Valentine's Day or chocolate day or fancy dinner day or "This is Too Commercial" day or whatever.

And, most of all, happy Tuesday, and you never know, maybe there is a little cupid hovering over you, just waiting to shoot an arrow through your heart.

All Good Advice. But... How? Because Now I Can't Stop Thinking About It.

Just don't think about it.

No, really. Don't think about it at all, just like this! See? See me not thinking about it?

It's easy, just remember to not think about it whenever you might find yourself thinking about it and trust me I'm the expert because it's not happening to me so I'm not thinking about it at all.

I mean, it's not even that big of a deal so why are you thinking about it?

If you think about it, you're over thinking so just don't think about it and let it happen. That way you don't have to think about it.

Make yourself so busy that you don't have time to think about it.

Just let it be. Don't even think about it.




I'm probably maybe this time actually going to my friend's house for dinner this weekend.

I'm really trying not to think about it.

Little Fluff Balls of Cute

I was chatting with some people at work a few weeks ago and we were talking about how we loved waking up on Saturday mornings knowing we didn't have to be anywhere (read: work) and that even going to sleep on Friday nights had that joyful feeling of knowing there were two days off to come.

We also talked about how sometimes waking up on Sunday morning was disappointing and how going to bed on Sunday nights wasn't much fun at all, knowing you had to get up the next day.

Last Sunday, I woke up and had a little hit of the blues. So I decided to think about what I had to look forward to this week and in my half asleep dozy mode, I ended up thinking about puppies.

Because puppies are cute and make you smile and I was half asleep and somehow puppies became the happy thing to think about.

Lab puppies, to be specific.

All piled up on top of each other on a pink blanket.

Apparently my brain is pretty specific when it comes to teh cute.

30 Days

I get panicky and overwhelmed by things.

If I haven't made that clear over the years of writing here, allow me to apologize.

Things freak me out. Especially those I feel like I can't get out of.

That may be literal, like being in a very small space and knowing I can't get out for a while (I had to breathe myself out of a panic attack last time I went on a charter flight and saw how close the seat in front of me was) or it may be figurative, like the idea that I may be in the same career until I'm sixty five and that thought makes me feel like someone's standing on my chest and I can't breathe please get off.

So when I come to committing myself to things, I have to frame it carefully.

Sure, I'll take a photo every day for a year (Project 365) again but I probably won't actually do it every day, so maybe I'll just do it for the month of January. Yeah, I can do 30 days. Plus, I can probably just quit if I have to. Or, like, skip a day or whatever. (Breathe in, breathe out, breathe in, breathe out. Repeat.)

The thought of buying a house freaks me out so much that I can't even look at MLS listings without feeling dizzy. Add on to that the massive financial commitment and is it any wonder I'm quite happy in my nice, but less than perfect rental apartment?

Sometimes, if I let myself, I can freak out at the idea of a relationship that doesn't even exist yet.

What if he moves in and is messy or he wants to have kids and I'm not sure (and oh lord don't even get me started about the freakout that is the thought of having children because YOU CAN'T BACK OUT OF THAT ONE FOLKS)

Even writing out these things has me feeling panicked and overwhelmed.

So it seemed quite brilliant when C-Dawg pointed a site out to me that was suggesting you commit to doing something for 30 days.

I could do that! (Probably!)

I chose four or five things to commit to for the first thirty days of the year, and quickly realized that this was too many.

So I stuck to spending 10 minutes at the end of each day reflecting on what went well.

And I have to say, I think I've seen a positive change from this.

Sure, some days it's been hard, and I've found myself in a funk at the end of the day struggling to say anything positive about the day, but most days I've enjoyed thinking about the fun or funny or great or good moments in the day, and I think it's shifted my mindset somewhat and I'm going to keep doing it.

I don't think, if I'm honest, that I did 30 days in a row, but I certainly did well and made the effort.

C-Dawg chose to read a chapter of a book every day for 30 days and she's mentioned that she's really enjoying it and that it feels like a better use of her time than watching crummy tv in the evenings.

They say that it takes 40 days to change a habit. Or to build one, I suppose. So in January, I spent time looking at what went well in the day. I got back to taking my camera everywhere and making sure I took at least one good photo every day and uploading it to flickr for accountability and positive feedback. I've been listening to a not-quite-meditation CD that the psychologist I saw about my Dad gave me forever ago and I've started tracking what I eat.

And I feel good.

So I'm probably going to keep doing these things during February. So, for another 29 days. (Cuz it's a leap year!)

But just one day at a time, right? So really, I'm just going to do these things today.

And really, I'm probably only going to take a photo today.

('Cuz I started to panic there a little, so I'm giving myself an out so I can breathe again.)

Out of Just Me, Really

You know that saying about how "assuming makes an ass out of you and me"? (you know, 'cuz "assume" has u and me and ass in it?")

Yeah, well, I think it just makes an ass out of me.

I am (almost) always well intentioned. And when it comes to people I care about, I try to do what it is they'd most appreciate even if I'm just guessing, or assuming, what that is.

Like my friend here (in our building) who just had a baby. I ran into her in the hallway and she said "drop by any time!" and I said "well, I don't like to just drop by on people who have babies in case they're sleeping or I interrupt quiet time or something."

"I have a toddler," she replied "there IS no quiet time!"

So my assumption that I would be interrupting if I went and knocked on their door to say hi and get some baby snuggle time is... apparently wrong.

And makes me feel like an ass.

I go through an especially hard time when my friends have babies because I don't know how to interact with them. I don't want to call in case it's a bad time. I don't want to stop by in case I wake up the baby. I don't want to accept an invitation to come over in case the baby ends up having diarrhea or the family is overwhelmed and exhausted but just too polite to cancel.

So I have some friends I haven't seen in years, because babies turn into kids and now we can't just do something on the spur of the moment because someone needs to watch the child and I feel bad for even asking.

People keep telling me they're pregnant and there are a lot of my friends who are going to be having a baby or have already had a baby or are about to have baby number two and I feel socially awkward in that I don't know how to be their friend anymore because I don't want to interrupt or annoy or irritate or anything.

But, yeah. That's the most obvious example I can think of how my attempt to do what I think/assume you'd want me to do doesn't necessarily work out in the best way, even though it's with the best of intentions.

So I'm trying not to assume.

Or, at least, I'm trying to assume less and less.

I'm not going to assume that you'll ask me over if you want me over, because maybe you're sitting there in your house assuming that if I wanted to come over I would come over and man now we're all confused and sitting home alone.

And I'm going to try to not assume I know what people are thinking about me because that doesn't end up anywhere good either.

Maybe it goes back to what I keep hearing people say to their kids; "use your words!"

Maybe I can keep working on saying what I think/feel/wonder and can hope that everyone else is trying to do the same.

Or maybe that's just another erroneous assumption?

Sigh.

"Ass out of me" indeed.

Nothing. Absolutely Nothing

The Bachelor is one of my "I know it's terrible but I'm going to watch it anyway because it's pure escapism" tv shows. (And yes, I've talked about it here before.)

What I've noticed this time around is that quite a number of the girls who get asked to leave (read: kicked off) ask themselves (via the camera that's meanly watching them cry at the moment of their rejection) "What did I do wrong?"

And I have totally asked myself that same question after a breakup; what did I do wrong, why doesn't he like me?

The interesting thing watching this show (and yes, I know it's all edited to heck) is that they didn't do anything wrong.

He just likes someone else in a more romantic way.

Sometimes the "feeling" is just not there. You don't have to have been a horrible person or have done anything wrong, the guy just isn't as interested in you romantically as he is in someone else.

And maybe that's part of what's horrible about the show (like train wreck can't look away kind of horrible.) As a (manipulated) viewer, you can see the girls this guy likes. You can see the two or three he gets all a flutter around and you can see the one he just wants to sleep with and so when he's sending someone home you see that it's not because she's unattractive or annoying or anything, it's just that he's gaga over someone else and the game of the show is that he has to keep some and let others go.

So over the past few weeks as I've watched the girls get sent home and cry in the limo asking what they did wrong, I've wanted to be able to transport them into the future so that they can see that they honestly didn't do anything wrong, it just wasn't in the cards for the two of them.

And this is why it's so easy to comment on relationships when you're not in them, but really. . .

They didn't do anything wrong.

He just, unfortunately, liked someone else more or in a different way and that's really really hurtful and really really sucks.

So ladies? What did you do wrong?

Nothing. Absolutely nothing.

Different

I had another moment of clarity this weekend that I'll need to figure out how to keep in my brain and actually move forward with rather than just realizing it and going back to the way I've always been.

C-Dawg gave me a call on Saturday to talk about something or other and she was on her way to a dinner with her boyfriend and his parents after having driven a couple of hours (both ways) for a big family birthday party earlier in the day.

For me, one of those things would have been more than enough. I would not have made both plans for the same day as I would have been tired out by the drive and family gathering and wouldn't have wanted another "event" to go to the same day.

Heck, I might not have even wanted another one that same weekend.

Rather than beat myself up for not being as good as C-Dawg for doing both these things, the thought hit me that we were just different.

I'm sure someone with a PhD beside their name could analyze the why's of our personalities and it would probably end up saying something about an introvert vs an extrovert or something along those lines, but the fact that I cringed at the idea of her having the two big events on one day doesn't mean that she did. And it doesn't mean that I'm wrong for not wanting to do the same.

It just means I'm different.

And that I need to stop comparing myself to other people because they have different minds and mind sets and personalities.

My friends, family and co-workers aren't me. Perhaps there are some that are a bit similar to me, but most of them are not and that just makes them different. Not better or worse. Just different.

My Saturday involved getting a bunch of errands (that I've been putting off) done and then spending the rest of the day mellowing on the couch.

The end.

A Flutter

When someone comes into our spy cave unannounced, I'm often sent to intercept them. Partly because I can be quite charming when I need to be and partly because I can always use my spy moves to make them forget they ever were there in the first place.

So last week, when someone came wandering through our cave, I went out to intercept.

"Hey there, you look lost, can I help you?" I said, all smiles and perk.

And I was a little taken aback to discover that what I'd thought was a woman (longish black hair and shoes that had heels) was rather an interesting looking man with an obvious artistic flair.

He introduced himself as a son of one of my co-spies and as I reached out to shake his hand, he took my hand in both of his and looked me right in my eyes and I think I fainted.

Well, no, of course I didn't, but my brain did and my legs went a little jelly. In that moment, he became sexy. So very.

I maintained my composure and helped him find where he was trying to go but damn if I hadn't been struck by one of those moments of attraction you just don't see coming.

I don't know if it was the confidence or the artist or the performer or what but had he asked me to meet him after work for a drink and some not-at-all-innocent pillow time I would have happily gone.

I assume it happens to everyone, but there are just some men that get right through my defenses. They are instantly sexy and attractive and I want to sleep with them even if they are not particularly any of these things. I can't explain it logically. I suppose it's my own version of the "X factor" or something.

I couldn't stop thinking about this guy all day or all night.

And I think I can honestly say it's been a while since I've had that intense of an attraction to someone.

Musicians, damn it...they're my kryptonite.

I Really Have No Other Thoughts

HAPPY WEEKEND!

HAPPY WEEKEND!!!!!!!

HAPPPPPYYYY WEEEKEND!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Also? This is my new favourite thing:


Kristen Bell's Sloth Meltdown 

I love her and how adorable is she and also? I live in the same emotional scale and always just thought I was weird. Now I'm not!

Yay Happy Weekend!

On Being Levelheaded

I'm thinking ahead to a future meeting of my next serious relationship.

(Man, you've got to love it when I write a sentence that is that terrible.)

I just mean, I'm thinking about how I might approach things the next time I'm starting a relationship, or the next time I find myself dating someone.

My parents have been married since the 60s, and I'm sure they'll both tell you that just like life, their marriage has made them both happy, but has also taken work, and probably still does.

But something else my parents would probably tell you is similar to a story I've heard from some of my other friends' long term married parents, and it's more a story of choice than of lust.

What I mean is that I feel like in my previous relationships I've met someone, felt that initial powerful connection, slept with them and been madly head over heels in love with them and therefore wanted to be with them forever.

Without actually knowing them.

Whereas I feel like that can't be the basis of a long term relationship anymore and I know that wasn't how my parents' relationship started.

My Mom has talked to me before about how their deciding to get married wasn't a surprise; they'd talked about it and both knew this was what they wanted and how she knew that Dad had the qualities and behaviours she wanted in a husband.

(Plus, she really liked his voice. And she realized she was nervous when he was running late on a date, and this nervousness made her realized she liked him.)

In some ways their courtship and engagement could be seen and broken down to being almost business like. They were compatible. They liked each other. They had things in common. They got along. They suited each other. It was a good match. And so on and so forth.

There was none of this Hollywood style "love at first sight, I can't resist him/her, my breath was taken away, I've found my soulmate" type of thing.

And I think maybe I'm ready to try a relationship that's not based on that "googly eyes, heart pushing out of my chest cartoon style" thing.

Because I do love the rush of being madly, deeply attracted to someone and falling passionately into BEING with them, but I want something more than that.

And I don't think I used to believe that there *was* anything more than that.

But I want to spend the rest of my life with someone who is a best friend. I really really do.

And when I look at my friends who are happily married, that's what I see. I was talking with my friend at work the other day and she was showing me a video of her husband, on the really snowy day we had a few weeks ago, skiing his way to work. And you should have seen her eyes sparkle.

"You're really in love with him, aren't you?" I said.

She smiled and nodded and told me that she's constantly reminded of that.

My other friend at work who tells me stories of her husband and kids always has a smile on her face when she talks about her husband.

I don't know if that kind of solid friendship based love can come from a lust filled beginning.

Now that doesn't mean I don't want to be attracted to my next partner, I do; I think it's terribly important. It just means that I don't want to be run over by the feeling.

I want to be able to step back and see if we are compatible, if we have things in common, if we suit each other, if we'd be a good choice for a relationship.

It took me nearly a year and a half to buy my new car. I had to psych myself up to spend that much money for one thing, and I had to do the research and be sure it was something I wanted to do.

And yet, I've slept with guys I've barely known.

Maybe I won't take quite as long to choose to sleep with my next boyfriend as I did to buy my car, but I want to take my time and think and see and grow.

It takes a long time to get to know someone and it should take a long time to get to know if you love someone and want to be with them long term.

It'll be interesting to see if I can figure out how to be different this time around; how to be more like the people whose relationships I admire.

I'm Awesome

I just set off my car alarm (for the first time ever mind you) while sitting in my car.

Yes. Yes I did.

I was going to get groceries, but C-Dawg had just sent me a text so I was responding to it before I went shopping.

I took my keys out of the ignition and was half holding them while typing on my phone and I must have accidentally pressed a button because things flashed and I figured I'd unlocked the door.

So a couple of texts later, I opened the door to go shop and BEEP BEEP BEEP BEEP (repeat times a lot) and at first I wondered whose alarm it was but within a nanosecond I realized it was mine and that I had no idea how to turn it off.

So I pressed all the buttons on my key fob until I hit the correct one and then I got out of my car as if I'd meant to do that the whole time.

"Oh who me? Yes, I always like to set my car alarm off while sitting in it. I feel it tells potential criminals not to mess with me."

Ahem.

Yeah. I'm awesome.

I set off my very own car alarm WHILE INSIDE MY CAR.

Apparently My Brain's On Holiday

I made a weird mistake this weekend.

I have two friends from high school I keep in touch with. While I consider them both very good friends, one of them is one of my best friends of all.

Both of these friends have children and I always send a birthday card on the kids' birthdays.

So when my reminder came up that it was one friend's daughter's birthday, I got a card, but I kept forgetting to send it and I wanted it to not be late.

So this weekend, I addressed the card, signed it, and stuck it in a mailbox so it would get there in time.

A couple of hours later, I was deleting the reminder and that's when I realized my mistake.

I'd sent the card to the wrong girl.

I'd completely written, addressed and sent a card to the wrong friend's kid.

I'm not even sure how my brain managed to do that except that I must have somehow just confused the friends or something.

It made for a rather embarrassing email.

"Hey, I just sent your daughter a birthday card even though it's totally not her birthday. Could you, like, just pretend this never happened?"

Sigh.