Zombie Survival Guide

Last night Ammex and I were able to secure tickets to the movie World War Z. I say secure because it had its highly anticipated opening was just this past Friday. We have become fairly keen on the AVX theater, as we are able to pick out our seats a head of time online when purchasing tickets, and thus, making it more flexible for our arrival time to the theater as our seats are assured.

When you live in a small town that is more than an hour east of Edmonton, travel time must be taken into consideration for everything that you do, beyond visiting the worlds largest Mallard duck, cause that's just down the block.

Now I am a huge fan of Max Brooks, owning both the book World War Z that the movie was a loosely based off of and the Zombie Survival Guide. The latter got me thinking: if they can publish a book on how to survive the zombie apocalypse, why have I not been able to find a survival guide for "small town Alberta"?

Here are a few tips (in no particular order) that I have complied in the last couple of months to ease my city living lifestyle into one of a small town:

1. Costco Membership: prior to moving out to the small town, I had managed to not step foot into a Costco store. My first trip in, I was so overwhelmed that I could barely eat the countless number of free samples. Having one of these memberships just simply saves you money. You do not run out of things as fast, which in turn means less grocery shopping trips. The only downside is, if your freezer is not organized, you may forget what you actually have stashed away.

2. A Large Capacity Wine Rack: when the power goes out during a summer storm and your sitting there with candles lit, time to bust out the wine. When the neighbors farm dog that runs loose every Tuesday night, roots through your garbage that you set outside for the next morning, time to bust out the wine. When the town postie refuses to give you your mail because she has a breakdown, time to bust out the wine. When the same postie sees a pay stub from the professional team that your associated with, and bends over backwards being nice, time to bust out the wine. When its rush hour on any day of the week and the streets are eerily silent, bust out that wine cause that's just creepy. I am fully realizing that people were not kidding when they say "Small towns drive you to drink"...I am now accepting suggestions for support group locations...or recommendations on new red wines to try.

3. Commuter Vehicle: when I moved out here I drove this incredibly sexy black on black Mazda Speed 3. It had 263 ponies under the hood (turbo engine zoom zoom!), 4 doors, a hatchback, 6 speed transmission, and Bose surround sound came standard. Problem: it took premium fuel. That was written in bold in the manual, and again on the flap that covered the fuel tank. With premium sitting around $1.25-$1.75 depending on where/when I filled up, and with traveling back and forth to Edmonton 6 days a week, I was putting 1000-1200 kms per week, filling up literally every second day. The Mazda had a 55L tank. With Ammex's quick thinking, and much much convincing on my part, I sold the Mazda and purchased a black on black, 6 speed manual transmission VW Golf...its 2 full feet shorter than the Mazda, still has a hatch, 3 years newer and takes diesel. I filled up today from basically empty to the tune of $55...and I will probably get 850-1000kms out of the tank before I have to fill up again...maybe more if I actually do the speed limit.

4. An "In" with the Local Police: I have this one covered in spades, problem is I live with him. I also receive driving lessons every time we go for date night and its my turn to drive. Don't get me wrong, I am fairly appreciative of Ammex's cautions...its all about saving me money and demerit points, but its enough to make me want to drive with a  extra long curly straw in a wine bottle...which apparently, according to Ammex, is "somewhat" illegal.

5. Understanding Friends: without this I honestly would be lost. I unfortunately cannot meet up at random times for coffee or Pho anymore...it all has to be preplanned. What usually happens is that I try to double or triple up on things that I need to do (like Costco or work) and then meet people for whatever we have planned. Most times I ask if its okay for me to bring Ammex along, cause being stuck in the small town as often as he is due to work, I fear for his socialization abilities...when he starts to get the look of being feral, I book a BBQ excursion for him at a friends house that has like minded dudes that he can talk with. My friends are so understanding, that some of them are actually coming out to visit me, now this means a sleepover, and its something that I haven't done since my pre teen years.

There are a few more things that I have learned in the last few months that helps to not only ease your transition from city living to one of a small town, but ensures you keep some sanity. Cause if your not careful, you can easily become a zombie living in a small town.

Inviting Gretzky

Over the last couple of weeks, Ammex and I have decided on a number of large things regarding our wedding, most notably our venue and respective wedding attendants on both sides. A few things remain regarding the reception, but its nothing pressing.

What is pressing is getting the invitations out.

I have self admittedly become an invitation snob. I pulled out all the wedding invites that I have received in the last 5 years (holy crap there were a ton!) and I have been scrutinizing every invitation that we have received in the last couple of weeks.

Card stock, paper weight, matte or glossy finish, photo or not, RSVP & registry cards, home made or professionally printed, ribbon or no, gems, feathers, colors, font, dress codes, theme of the wedding clearly stated or no, presented by the parents or just the bride/groom...no detail was overlooked.

When doing some research on not only products but testimonials from other brides, I came to the conclusion that it would be easier to order invitations from a professional  printer...easier cost wise and labor intensive wise. I heard some outrageously funny stories about how printers were not configured to print a certain size of precut paper, and how much mess hot glue guns make when you go to actually use one. Mind you, I have heard nightmares about how brides were left scrambling when the professional printer made a mistake. I figure, if I leave myself a buffer time wise, I should be okay.

But when thinking about the invitations, who they are addressed to also cropped up. Both Ammex and I have a diverse mélange of friends. And both of us are the "black sheep" of our respective families. Each of us has maintained that with a Vegas wedding, everyone gets an invitation. Its one of those places where attendees can plan for months in advance, or just hop a plane the night before, its just that flexible.

I have however maintained that certain people from my side of the family WILL NOT be invited, namely my mother. Now I realize that this may be slightly odd for most readers, but in a nutshell, Debbie and I haven't talked or seen eye to eye on any issue, in going on 10 years now. I do not see a reason to start now.  In fact, I've given the title of "mom" over to my step mother Mary.

Now this brings me to a conversation I had with the wedding planner at our venue in Vegas a few weeks ago. I was explaining that the color scheme for the wedding is the same as the pro hockey team that is in my town, and that I have been associated with over the last 3 years. The poor lady, from Texas originally, had zero idea what hockey was or that the playoffs were still occurring. She apologized, but did ask some simple questions surrounding the game so that she could get the gist of Canada's national sport. She then asked where Edmonton was and how far north and she said it sounded familiar but wasn't sure why.

I asked her if she knew who Wayne Gretzky was, and there was an audible inhalation on the other end of the phone, followed by the response in a very hushed heavy voice "Oh my, yes, yes I do...he's an incredible talented athlete that is very attractive and wealthy...will he be in attendance?" I laughed and said "Probably not".  "Will he be invited" she asked, "I can send an invite yes" "Will he attend?" she asked "Probably not" was my response. "Well I am sure that he would love to know about your wedding, and you never know he may just show up. Oh I hope he brings Janet! Shes gorgeous" was her excited reply.

So, if I am hosting a wedding in a location where both Ammex and I agree that everyone gets an invite, like everyone and if I send an invite to the Great One himself, by etiquette standards that means I should invite Debbie. Not going to lie, I am pretty torn about the situation. What kind of a person does it make me if I am willing to invite a perfect (yet famous) stranger to a wedding and not the woman who gave me life?

Its going to cost me just under $5 to send the invitation (stamp, envelope and printing costs combined). After so long, I would really like to bury the hatchet...and meet the Great One.

Legal Age Finacially

Yesterday I had to take in my beloved Mac Book to the Genius Bar for some troubleshooting aka lifesaving first aid for my computer. I figured that the issue was either the battery, the charger or both. The lady at the Genius Bar was super chill, which helped me relax as I gingerly placed my 7 year old laptop down on the desk with all the care that I would a newborn.

I explained that the charger plug in wasn't connecting properly anymore, and the battery was not holding a charge. So she flips over my laptop, and pops the battery out to check the serial number on her little iPad program, what I was hoping for is that by some small miracle my battery was still under warranty..."Yeeeeepppppp your computer is definitely vintage, so because we don't manufacture parts for this model anymore, would you like to look at some of the new products we have available right now?" I would have loved to be in a position of "yeah, lets do it up and I will totally buy a brand new Mac Book right now with out issue", but fighting off that familiar crushing feeling that I usually get when it surrounds finances, I asked if there were other options. I left the store with my 7 year old laptop, a new charger, a converter and $80 closer to the poor house.

In the grand scheme of things, I have not ever been in a position where I have not had to budget heavily for things that I have wanted and needed. I moved out of my parents house not only being financially illiterate but also having this acute fear of anything financially related. I trusted what those people closest to me said, which resulted in me acquiring an even more unhealthy amount of fear of finances for a 20 year old and some debt.

Its been 12 years since then, and I have stubbornly chipped away at it a little bit at a time when I have been able. Because of the fear I associate with finances, I never did educate myself on what exactly was occurring. I also flat out refused to discuss anything related to finances with anyone. Call it embarrassment

Over the last few weeks, I have been facing up to the fact I suck at managing my finances, and how I can make little changes that will have huge impacts. I pulled my credit bureau's from both Equifax and Transunion. Ammex was a delight during this process...very supportive emotionally and if I started to become too overwhelmed, he ensured that there was a nice glass of Chianti close by and rid the house of fava beans and liver just as a precaution.

I made a half dozen phone calls to various companies, and sorted everything out. I made some tough decisions, the biggest of which was selling my beautiful zoom zoom Mazda Speed 3. Because of this, by the end of this week coming, I am officially debt free, and I have extra left for my previously unloved savings account.

I do not want any children I have in the future ever having to go through this gut wrenching turmoil that I have been in for the better part of 12 years. I fully plan on educating my kids on how to manage money and how it works for them or against them if they are not careful. I will tell them in detail how much easier my life could have been if I wasn't afraid.

I miss the Mazda already, but I have a sporty little VW Golf Diesel to cheer me up now. I can now afford my half of the wedding that Ammex and I are planning in Las Vegas for next April. I can work in a casual position still and not worry about covering expenses AND savings. I can go back to university to take a program that I have wanted to for a long time. When Ammex and I move next year, I will be able make a sizable contribution to the down payment and new furnishings.

I still have lots of work to do, and this will be ongoing for the rest of my life, but at the age of 32, I feel like I have reached legal age financially. Its the one oddity that feels amazing.

And Jump I Did!

It has been a little while since I last wrote in my blog, so I will bring y'all up to speed fairly quickly:

May of 2012, I had honestly had enough of trying to meet gents the "old fashioned way". I had burned through a number of set ups by friends, and I figured that I was getting pretty old for the bar scene. A friend sat me down, wine in one hand and credit card in the other and signed me up for Match.com. We created a fun and honest profile, loaded up some recent pictures (lucky for me I had news ones taken that week), drank the rest of the wine and crossed our fingers.

It was tough at first. But I followed all the tips that the website suggested I follow. If I wasn't interested, I let the gent know right away, point blank, no room for interpretation. I emailed back and forth up to a certain point and then made actual plans to go out and meet in person. I would always send a text afterwards thanking them for their time ect.

And then the email arrived. It was from Ammex. He asked if my age parameters were a hard and fast rule or if it was more of a guideline, and if I would be willing to get to know someone "slightly" younger than those parameters, but who had a plan, a career and determination to have everything in life that he could. I am not going to say that I was hooked by any means, but I kept the door open for sure.

We emailed a few more times, and then graduated to texting and finally our first date. I had an incredibly crummy day at work, my hair wouldn't behave, I didn't know what to wear, I was exhausted, the words hot mess come to mind here. Ammex said that he would be at a pub, hanging out by himself, watching the Stanley Cup final, and would be there until the 3rd period. If I came great, if not, no pressure. I sighed, and ummed and ahhh'd. But in the end I threw on a baseball cap, a t shirt and some jeans and off I went. LA won the cup.

Fast forward 6 months to New Years Eve. We are in Banff and I was incredibly intoxicated and feeling a little down and out cause Ammex and I had been doing so well, and I was honestly thinking that he would have proposed to me on the ski hill that day, but nope. I had this saying of "nows a good time" whenever I wanted to illustrate that it would be a good time to propose if he intended...it usually came up when I was irked by something he had said or done. Now, my memory is a little hazy here, remember, I am pretty intoxicated, I made my usual remark on "nows a good time" and he responded "Yes it is" and there was the ring.

I jumped. No testing the water's temperature with my big toe. No second guesses. No hesitation, indecisiveness, dawdling, reluctance or stalling. I dived head first, and am living to tell the tale. April 17, 2014 I am set to become Mrs. Ammex.

Time to Jump

Spring has definitely sprung...walks are starting to have that slight bounce in their steps, goofy grins are popping up all over the place and people are becoming twitterpainted. And in light of all of this, friends of mine and myself are not immune to this natural reaction of the seasons.

I went for lunch today with a bestie. The last time I will see her in about 2 weeks. She is headed off tomorrow with her new bf, on a one week vacation to meet his family. She is super stoked, and having met the gentleman in question, I have no real objections save one: they are driving to their vacation destination. My personal preference is to fly where I need to go if the drive would be longer than 3 hours and that includes one required pit stop that has clean running water. The rational behind this preference is simple: I can barely entertain myself for a 3 hour drive, so why would I force someone who happens to be in the same cramped/confined space to do it for me.

This bestie though has not only had some of the koolaide with regards to this new relationship of hers, but I am pretty sure she went to the manufacturing plant, and picked more up in bulk. She has been seeing this new guy of hers for 2 months. The family on her side has already been met, and by this time next week family on his side will have been met too. They are inseparable. Keys have been exchanged to each others homes. They have been open with each other regarding past relationships and how they might impact the one that now have together. Since their first date, they have not been apart aside from being at work. And for them, this technique of dating is working.

This is an entirely foreign concept on dating for me. May be it is because I have been largely unsuccessful in the dating world, that I prefer to take things slowly. "Everything is better with a lil bit of time" has been my mantra of late. Yes, in certain aspects I can admit to moving slower than a turtle walking and in others I moved at light speed.

The main contention that I have been dealing with has been an internal one. Cross my fingers, hope for the best and jump OR keep things light, whimsicle and become the namby pamby of my nightmares and hide at the speculation that I could be hurt.

At this point it is pretty cut and dry. Its time to jump.

Single + Valentines Day

I have been single for well over a year now...minus the short time I was off the market with the lovely gent from Ontario. It has been a roller coaster for sure. Trying to figure out who I am again as a singluar person and fully detatching myself from habits that I unfortunately acquired from my last relationship.

I have had a ton of fun though! Reconnecting with friends and becoming closer with those around me. I have learned to adapt and overcome just about any crazy situation that I have found myself in.

Which brings me to the next issue at hand: Valentines Day.

For singles, this is the next biggest holiday/event on the calendar that usually sends us into a darkend corner, shaking like a leaf and pulling our hair out one by one, kinda like Gomer Pile in Full Metal Jacket.

May be it is because I lack the ability to recognize emotions in other humans the majority of times, but I honestly do not understand the fuss, and subsequent mess this day commonly creates.

Urban Dictionary defines Valentines Day as a day to make lonely people depressed and loved people possessed...another day to feel like sh*t because your single...a day to celebrate Saint Valentine and my personal favorite, the reason so many people are born in November.

Apparently being single on Valentines Day is horrific, not ever having celebrated the holiday (yes, even when I was in a relationship, long story). But having done a search on Google for "single + valentines day" more than 82.5 million hits came up on how to 'survive the day'.

With that many survival tips, is it really that bad being single on VDay?

Apparently it is. I have had 2 people of the masculine variation of our species (ones that I am not dating, nor had designs to date either), literally freak out like bats in a belfry over the simple fact that I have plans already for tomorrow night, and it involves a 3 hour training session with my team. It's not that I am adverse to the idea of flowers, a nice dinner and company (chocolates are a no no...super allergic, another long story). My actions/motivations are pretty transparent though: tomorrow is Tuesday. I have practices on Tuesday's and Friday's. I wasn't told that I have tomorrow off, so I attend.  *shoulder shrug and hands wiped clean*

It is incredibly distressing to me that so many people build this day up. Incredibly high expecations are set, and if one minor detail is forgotten, or a preset notion of legal tender is not applied, the whole world is set to ruin. I would rather be shown every single day that someone cares. To have flowers randomly show up at my office, just cause. To be swept away on a weekend holiday spur of the moment, and I don't even have to leave town for this. To get a random text message from someone saying that they are thinking of me while they are out of town. To have someone show up at a race, to see me cross the finish line and to provide that all important hug (see post entitled The Runners Hug).

I guess it boils down to this: I don't expect anything of anyone on Valentines Day. The standard of treatment that the greeting card companies promote on Valentines Day is the way I expect to be addressed everyday and money need not be spent to accomplish this. I will not settle for anything less.

High maintenance? May be. But then, this could be why I am single on Valentines Day. Guess I better take a look at some of those 82.5 million survival tips.

Your Ex vs. The Crazy Stick

You met. You went out. You started seeing each other. You made it exclusive. You dated for "X" amount of time. You noticed that something wasn't exactly right. You tried to work on things. You noticed that things were still not exactly right. You ended the relationship. Enter the crazy stick.

Sometimes, people for which ever reason just have a hard time letting go. We have all been there...some worse than others.

I mentioned in an earlier post that there had been a large amount of drama in my life and my friends lives lately and fortunately enough for you dear reader is, that it has a very funny telling!

A number of weeks ago *Marigold was hit by the 'ginger fever', to which she was quite taken with a gentleman with red hair. He is hot, like Prince Harry hot apparently. They went out a number of times, and things are going altogether well evidently. Then, THE night was upon them. They started making out on his couch after a concerted attempt at watching movies. Things quickly progressed and after some articles of clothing were removed, they relocated into his bedroom. More articles of clothing were removed. A quick conversation ensued to see if this is where they wanted things to progress to. It was, and all systems were a go. Out comes the condom.

Now I have to back up the story here slightly. This ginger Prince Harry look-a-like lives on the main floor, of a gated condo complex from what I was told. To which, the shortest gate is 9.5 feet tall.

Just as things were going to be consummated, there was this incredible banging at the exterior bedroom window, followed by a high pitched screeching. The Prince Harry look-a-likes ex girlfriend had scaled the 9.5 foot fence in order to gain access to his ground floor patio, and was now having a dramatic display in minus 40 degree weather. She had obviously been struck repeatedly with the crazy stick. From what the Prince Harry look-a-like told Marigold, he had broken off that particular relationship more than a year ago, but over the last 5 months the ex had taken to the notion that they were going to get back together and had escalated her crazy-ish behavior.

To compound the situation, Prince Harry l.a.l. leaves Marigold in the bedroom, to not only deal with the crazy ex, but to allow her into his home. To which, he persuades her to leave and come back within the hour so that they could "talk". Marigold listening to this in the bedroom, couldn't believe her ears...he was not only enabling the behavior, but because the crazy lady was coming back, she knew that she had to make a quick exit. Passed over in favor of the crazy one. F*ck her life was all she could think...and then she called me on the way home and we had a fantastic laugh about it! Interestingly enough, Marigold is still seeing this Prince Harry look-a-like. Its nothing serious, but the ex has not made a reappearance much to her delight!

Now, not all ex's turn stalker. A good portion do to some scale though. Text messages, phone calls, emails, social media check ups, the random show up here you just happen to be, flowers and then the old fashioned begging and pleading.

I am going to cut some of these ex's some slack here. A lot of the time, mixed messages/signals are given to them that would lead them to believe that things could be different (please see post addressing that very thing). Having been in that very situation last year myself, I can see both sides. Not that I went crazy, but I was lead to believe that I could have a relationship back.

Currently scientists have not fully mapped the genetic code nor the brain. So, there is no way to definitively predict if someone will go crazy due solely to their genetic makeup. But, if your the one doing the breaking up, please, help a crazy out. Don't call. Don't text. Don't email. Just leave the person be to heal on their own. Do not try to be overly kind, or sympathetic. No mixed messages/signals. Cold turkey baby.

Now, simply cross your fingers and hope that the crazy stick is simply too busy beating another person ex and not yours!

*Marigold is a real person and is NOT me...honest.

The Cougar Crossover

Just about 2 weeks ago now, I was out celebrating with a girl friend on her brand new license for first aid instructing. I had mentored her through the process and she nailed on the first go around...so needless to say, a night of fake eyelashes, heels and drinks were immediately called for.

We were having a great time, and were fairly well into our cups and dancing when we pulled off to the side, to catch our breath, cool down and to get another drink.

At that juncture, over walks this dark haired, blue eyed, fairly tall young gentleman, keep in mind, I wear 4" heels at a minimum and he was taller than me in heels still. I honestly thought that he was going to talk to my friend, cause she was on one heck of a roll that night. Nope. He wanted to talk to me (score!).

He gave me his name and we started talking. Turns out that he is a triathlete (seem to be running into a few of those lately hmmmm...trend?) and was also looking to run a full marathon this year. Now, I have to admit that I had a lil geek out moment at the mention of marathons, and this did not appall him.

One exchange of numbers later, and the txts back and forth started to happen the next afternoon.

Plans were made to have coffee on a night upcoming in the week where it suited both of our schedules, and I was both excited and a little nervous. I knew that he was younger, but I was trying to figure out just HOW much younger he was than me. A few things threw me off right away. He completely his journeyman mechanic courses, and was in his last year in a teaching degree and he referred a number of times "to when I was young" in sentences. Okay, no freak out not required at this point, but put on the reserve list.

Coffee was great. Tentative plans were made for another meet up...and then I sent the "how old are you" txt a few days later. I was floored at the response. "I just turned 22. How old are you?"  "Turning 31 this year" FML. A few years difference is okay, 4-5 max. But 9?? I was going to be okay with this whole thing in the terms of just being friends, until he txtd later that same night saying that he would love to "date a hot cougar".

Oh heck no hunny, you did not just go there! I was trying not to shed tears and laugh my behind off at the same time.

One thing to really keep in mind, is that cougars are attractive, in their sexual prime, and who know what they want and are not afraid to go after it. A sizable misconception is that cougars dress cheaply, wear hot pink nail polish and adorn themselves head to toe in animal print and have bleached hair that glows under black lights. True cougars are classy beautiful creatures, who have made their successes on their own, have real brains, and are real head turners. Cougars generally do not need to sneak attack younger guys, they know that their younger mates are eager and willing to get an experienced woman who won't ask if they will call them in the morning. Being a cougar, according to Urban Dictionary and Google can and usually is a good/positive thing.

*Insert the Quagmire giggidy, giggidy here*

I asked a number of friends when I had crossed over into Cougarville and why was I not told that I was taking that off ramp. Apparently, the majority of responses were that I hadn't.

There are levels that one must complete prior to being a full coug. First there is cheetah, then puma and THEN cougar. After that there are various levels to being a silver fox and upwards. Holy hannah! Confusing! Age parameters are usually assigned to each of the various levels, just in case the genetic code of the cougar is such that you are not able to tell, or they have had enough work done to look as if they have been pumped up and put in a wind tunnel.

As I have not reached the age requirement in being a full Coug, I can rest easy. But I do have to be careful, cause the Cougar Crossover is going to happen and that I need to handle it with class, or marry the next guy that comes along as to avoid it!

Mixed Signals

Lately things have become fairly hectic in my little world. And not hectic in a good way. Usually I can attend to most things that come my way with ease, and relatively fleeting fuss. Unfortunately there has been an upswing in the drama department (specifically to others ex's...stay tuned for a post on that one!), and man oh man, do I feel at odds!

The biggest thing that I have noticed, in addition to the extra drama, is the amount of mixed signals that both sexes have been putting out lately. Shame on all of us.

According to Urban Dictionary mixed signals or mixed messages is defined as: a situation to which a person is receiving verbal or non verbal cues that seem to contradict each other, from another person. Typical reactions to this behavior are confusion, anger and a willingness to cease communication with the person.

In the last month I have experienced all 3 of the described above reactions.

Take for a example confusion: I went on a drink thing/date with a lovely gentleman a while back. The thing/date lasted for a number of hours with what I assumed was lively discourse. The thing/date ended with him saying "I had a great time, and would love to do this again, I will call you on such and such a time" ... the call never happened. I found out from mutual friends later, that apparently he "couldn't get me to shut up" ... hmmm ...confused much?

At this point here enters anger: in a completely separate situation, a close male friend really pushed my buttons not too long ago. He would always txt, and call, and do coffee or dinner or hanging out with me and Mr Ari at the dog park. Always there if I needed him, but uber flirty all the time. There in lies the problem. We would be out having drinks either by ourselves, or with friends and would literally act like my boyfriend of years. He would not allow other guys to hit on me (granted I was grateful for some of the interesting applicants that tried to, to be turned away lol). The thing that really made me angry was that it was a double standard. He could act that way, but come hell or high water if I tried to get it the way of him hitting on some lady "with a heart of gold". To have this behavior stop, it literally took me yelling at him, and not returning calls or txts for the better part of this month.

A willingness to cease communication: the last gentleman that I would classify as exclusively dating, recently tried to re-establish communications. He called, he txt'd and he emailed constantly. I gave in and finally listened to what he had to say. Now, you need to bear in mind, that with this gentleman, he lives in Ontario, and has apparently been trying to "find the perfect job and come back out west and sweep me off my feet again". In talking to him, he said that he was still trying his hardest to find that job, and move back out here. I prodded a little more. To which I found out that he was offered a job in Calgary, that would pay for his move back to Alberta, and increase his salary and the 'effer turned it down. So, the jist of the conversation was "I want you back, but not right now. But I want you to think of me like you did when we were dating and get excited that I may move back, at some point. No idea when though". Seriously? Not happening.

Now all three examples were from just me, there are plenty more where my guy and girl friends are concerned. I honestly wish that people could just move past the mixed signal/message hump, and figure out which direction they want to take things.

May be North Americans need a little more gumption. I know in Brazil (as I was told this by a Brazilian), if someone likes another person they tell them right away. No beating around the bush. If its reciprocated, great, if not, great and life goes on.

I for one will now adopt that attitude. Being straight up with people, is sometimes hard for others to comprehend, but honestly, work smart not hard. Just tell them.

3 - 5 Days

This last Friday night I went out with the girls and participated in one of their belated birthday parties. At this party, the birthday girl had invited a number of her male co-workers, to which I hit it off with one of them and had a interesting conversation throughout the evening (yes, a conversation, I was the DD lol). Prior to leaving, he jumped right in and asked me for my phone number with confidence, saying "I would love to see you again".

I happily gave him my phone number.

Now the first step towards any relationship is the inital meeting. Check. Then subsequent exhange of contact information. Double Check, and correct contact information too. Now to wait until he contacts me. But before that happens, a period of time (apparently) must be established before either that happens.

*Insert final Jepardy! music here*

In talking with the gents and ladies, there is a considerable divide in what the sexes and Google (of all things) thought was correct.

The majority of responses from the gentlemen was that it depened on the girl. If they liked her, they would usually contact her right away, or at the very least within the first few (meaning 2) days of meeting her, and a phone call would be made. If they were unsure, a text would be sent in place of the phone call. A lot of times though, the gentleman has had time to reflect (aka sober up) and determined that he would have nothing in common with the girl and thus, not contact her through any means.

The lion's share of the ladies responses was a hard and fast 3 days. If there has been no contact within that time frame, NEXT!

Google actually recomends waiting anywhere from 3-5 days, to allow for time the first meeting to sink in, and to ensure that the other person (especially if the gentleman is doing the calling) does not feel as if its a booty call.

Now, I fully understand and appreicate that life can happen at any moment, and that might delay the contact. But as there does not appear to be any hard and fast play book for this, waiting it out to your own criteria is the way to go.

As Google is the bearer of all knowledge, coupled with the fact that I am so completely inept at these types of things, this guy, technically has anywhere from tonight, until Wednesday night of this week to call. I just wonder if I have the patience for dating after all!

2011 in Review

I have been somewhat down in the dumps of late...the latter half of 2011 really threw me for the biggest loop that I have ever been apart of.

So, to help dig myself out of the proverbial hole, I wrote down everything that was positive about my year:

1. My race season was amazing. I not only started 5 half marathons, but I finished them all. Medals are hanging on the wall, and there was a hug at the end of those runs. The Hypo Half, RunWild Half, Red Deer Half, Intact Half and Melissa's Half. I may have broken my toe twice in 2011, but that's still one heck of a race season!

2. Ari Gold is still alive (woot woot!). And because of this, I have reconsidered my stance on lacking the 'mom' gene.

3. I went camping AND hiking on two separate trips. For those that know me, this is kind of a big deal. I generally do not like the outdoors, but in challenging myself, I actually had a lot of fun.

4. I gave dating a solid shot in 2011. I had a number of hilarious miss adventures over the 12 months, but in the end, I did find love. It may have not worked out in the end, but for 5 months, I had it in my hands. Which means, that if I found it once, I can find it again.

5. The Spence Diamonds radio announcer is still alive. Not that I had any real plans on removing his set of genetics from the pool, but I am sure that someone has.

6. I reconnected with a great deal of my friends that I had not seen or talked to in quite some time. Movie dates, wing nights, beers, Jersey Shore, laughs and break in adventures abounded.

7. I started to learn Russian in late November/early December, as I was pretty certain that my mind was turning into mush and was determined to combat it. My tutor is awesome, hot and single...so ladies, let me know if you would like to meet him!

8. One of the best things that happened was that uber cute my basement suite flooded repeatedly, thus turning it into Bhagdad. You may think that this isn't a good thing to have happen, and I agree. But the outcome was that I afforded the opportunity to move in with an amazing lady. One who is kind, loving and just plain fun. She has been simply stellar with Ari Gold, and we both love her to pieces.

Reading all of this has brought my spirits up quite a bit. 2011 at first glance may not have been the perfect year, but what year really is? And the fact that I was able to come up with 8 amazing points on why it was a good year off the top of my head was pretty decent.

My resolution for 2012 will be to come up with 9 points.

Numbers Game

Last night was December 23rd. Exactly one day before Santa and the Reindeer storm the chimneys around the world much like the Allies did on the beaches of Normandy (minus the loss of life).

The reason why last night was significant, was that I set up a date for drinks at a lounge downtown. The gentleman that I was meeting up with, was introduced to me by friends a number of years ago (when I wasn't single) and I had recently reconnected with him. In describing him to my gf's he was classified as the 'non starter'. Meaning, we had formulated a number of different engagements, but scheduling on either side jumbled up the plans and we simply were not able to connect.

At the time, I was excited with regards to making a Friday night drink date, but then when I was putting it into my calendar I realized how close to Christmas this was going to be. And this got me thinking.

In order to be successful in dating, it boils down to meeting as many people of the opposite sex as possible as to increase the law of averages or your odds so to speak. This may mean broadening your scope to include things that would have counted a potential mate out previously (ie: he has kids, has been married before or both!).

Through talking with friends this week, a number of them agreed on a few points:

- join an organized group activity to meet new people. Having done this before when I started going to yoga, the idea behind this is to ensure that you have something in common to talk to the person about if you 'randomly' run into them outside of the organized setting. Being mindful that you should ensure that this organized group encourages talking amongst its participants.

- current and historical statistics indicate that if you meet a potential mate through friends, you are 80% more likely to marry that person. We have all heard stories about people meeting through a mutual friend, and during the wedding reception they thank that individual for throwing the party ect ect. But this could have a negative impact as well: what if you do not have that many friends you would trust to set you up? And then what happens when you burn through all of the recommendations from your friends?

- Christmas is actually one of the perfect times to start dating someone new. So long as you do not have expectations of uber romance. The reason for this, is that this time of year is stressful. Seriously stressful. Both at work and at home for a large majority of people. I for one would really like to see how someone handles their life stresses, and this would allow me to do so. For guys, this also allows them to see the will power of the female they are interested in...meaning does she stick to her low carb diet during the holidays.

- for your first and/or subsequent second date, ensure that it is something interactive to encourage communication flow. This will verify if you have something in common with the other person. It also helps to weed out the less than stellar options fairly quickly. I have come to learn that when a guy tells me "I am not looking to score, and that I am a nice guy that can let things happen...", that is my cue to run for the the highest hill and dig in.

At the end of the day, dating is very much a numbers game. And just like in Vegas, your betting against the house. But just like Vegas, when you win, you win big.

Asking Santa

The holidays are not the best time of year for me.

When I broke it off with my ex, I had a string of lack luster holidays culminating with no gifts exchanged, no family, no friends, no merry making, no mistle toe, no tree, no decorations, no National Lampoons Christmas Vacation, no stalkings hung with care, nothing, nada, zip. I could not stand NOT celebrating the holidays anymore. I also promised myself last year that things would be different.

Remarkably, I am still facing the same type of Christmas this year, just single. I would liken this as if I was looking down the loaded barrels of a double gauge shot gun.  And I am kicking myself for allowing this to happen for the 5th season in a row.

I have had offers of movie watching, holiday shopping, being someones very last minute date to their company Christmas Party, going to yoga, coffee, ect from friends that do not want me to be alone leading up to the holidays. I sincerely appreciated all of these gestures. I have even had a friend offer to make me home made egg nog, the kind with brandy opposed to rum. "Can't drink too much of it now, not only will it knock you on your as*, but the brandy will put you to sleep" "ummm, why would I want either to happen?"  "cause you'll be too drunk and tired to tie the noose!"

I am slightly concerned that some of my friends think that I might actually teeter over the edge before the holidays hit...the days leading up to it are fine for me. Its when everyone else is occupied with activities that have loved ones and family on that singular day that I hate being both alone and that 'orphan' friend that everyone feels the need to have at their celebrations. I do not know what I find more embarrassing, sitting at home doing nothing, or hitching myself to someone elses family for the day.

In having a conversation with a close friend today, the topic of hope came up a few times. My friend beat around the bush and then outright asked if I was loosing hope. I mentioned that I had most definitely toyed with the idea. Being a single girl during the holidays, its tough. If you are not already paired up with someone, its one of the most awkward time of year to try to start something new. There is so much pressure involved I find.

About mid conversation with this friend I started to cry. For those that know me, this is something that I have never found useful and it is something that I rarely do.

I had started to cry when thinking about what I would ask Santa for this year. My response was this: one hour of time with the person I am supposed to end up with. I could meet them, hug them, talk with them. With that one hour of time, I could see for myself that I am working towards something. That I will end up with the person of my dreams in the end. That one hour of time would give me the hope to survive however long it takes being single, to be reunited with that person. I could buckle down and weather the storm so to speak.

I know that this would be a Christmas miracle, and more than likely won't happen. But then again, Santa does delivery toys to all children around the world in one night...so may be. 

1-800- I'm-Sick

Being single most definitely has its perks. I can go out with friends and the only person(ish) that will be mad at me for coming home late will be Mr Ari Gold, which isn't so bad, because his love can be won back by a simple ear scratch. I can txt my girlfriends late into the night. I can dress up or bum around in my pjs, and not have to worry about impressing anyone other than myself.

There are those few times, when I can say with honesty, that being single sucks. Like when an invitation arrives in the mail for a friends wedding, and it says "so and so, plus guest". I always feel obligated to bring said guest, just so I do not feel left out. It sucks when your the odd person out in a couples dinner party. And with the holidays coming up, people are starting to question as to whether or not I have plans with family, and the 'orphan' invites for the holidays are starting to come in (not that I really mind about these invites, a girls gotta eat!).

The last few days I have been in denial about being sick though. Upon waking this morning with a head that felt like wet cotton, and a nose that was starting to run, and a voice that really wasn't there, I resigned myself to the simple fact, that I am sick. And being single is nothing short of a ruckus when your sick.

For me, this is a nightmare. Mainly because I turn into the biggest girl this planet has ever seen, when sick. I have this overwhelming urge to be indulged. Now, please do not confuse this urge with being "whiny". I am certainly not that, even in this present state. I just would really like chicken soup, decently scripted things on tv, a dog walker for Mr Ari, someone to do my laundry without fear they will shrink it all, and a designated cuddler. Nothing of which is over the top.

I really think that there should be a 1-800 number for singles in times of crisis. "Need a date for a wedding? Press 1. Feeling under the weather? Press 2. Need a guy to a complete a 'honey-do' list around the house? Press 3. For all of the above, press 4" and so on.

If the federal government could come up with a social program for singles, like the one above, I could easily get behind it. In the mean time, I am going to drag my flannel covered derriere, out in zero degree weather (which feels like minus 40), and drive my addled brain over to the closest Tim Horton's to get myself chicken soup.

Same City Dating

Holy man, it has been a while for my musings...people have been asking where the blog has disappeared to, and frankly I do not have a reasonable answer. I could say that it was because of a "lack of dating" on my part, but that is not entirely honest.

I was dating. And breaking a guideline I set for myself at the same time. I tried another long distance relationship. For the better part of August, September, October and a little bit of this month, I was off the market. And I had never felt so manic in my life as during that time frame.

Pulled in two directions: 1) being that the guy I was dating treated me like nothing else, I had no worries when he was around. I felt safe, loved and cherished. 2) he was never around, due to his residing just outside of Toronto, so I may of had those feelings described above, but they didn't occur all that often.

I mused with various friends on the pros and cons of dating this guy for weeks, and then decided that it would be a good idea to jump in with both feet anyway. *Insert roller coaster ride starting now*

Just after Thanksgiving, I gave up in a sense. I just couldn't bring myself to carry on with something that I knew wasn't working on my end - I just did not know how to say it. *insert alcohol consumption, an email and a long distance phone call here* Turns out that he kinda felt the same, and we parted ways.

DEEP BREATHS and sighs of relief.

So now that I am "out and about" once more, I am strictly keeping my focus on my own backyard so to speak. Meaning, same city dating. An amazing concept I know!

I am currently enthralled with the idea of calling someone up and saying "Hey, the movie we were talking about is playing tonight at 9, wanna go?" and "sure I'll pop over after work for dinner and movie watching"

My definition of "normal" has now changed. No longer will I plan weeks in advance on when I will see the person next, or have to budget strictly so I could fly half way across the country to see them, or even be stingy with my vacation time so I have time to spend with him when hes in town.

Normal now means that at the end of the day, I have to face a fear of really letting a person in to my life fully - instead of bits and pieces (which is easy to do when they do not live here!).

Holy man, this is going to be fun!

Respect the Grease

Growing up, my family did not have a lot to call their own. Needless to say, I learned quickly about the value of money. It was also drilled into me the value of a hard days work. My father always commented on how that "little bit of extra elbow grease can go a long way". Two lessons I have never forgotten about.

This last year and a half, that little bit of extra elbow grease has become key in my every day survival.

Its helped me endure my first ever 16 week marathon training course...and also saw me pull through the race its self. Upright and smiling at the end, and literally begging for more races. I am not a natural runner, this is something that over the last 3 years, I have had to work at each and every time I laced up my sneakers. I have had bad, bad runs, and I have had runs where afterwards I have a surreal feeling for hours or days.

I changed career paths, from one that saw me have a sizable yearly salary, benefits and vacation pay to one that was quite literally if you don't work, then you do not get paid type of deal. By putting in that little bit of extra elbow grease, I am now back in a salary position within the new career path, with benefits, sick days and vacation. I worked my tail off almost 7 days a week, for months, to get to this point.

And I had the privilege of being picked for the first ever pro dance team for a major sporting team in town. I hadn't a lick of dance experience prior to joining the team. During practices, because I did not understand the lingo they were using I felt lost. I practiced on the sidelines, away from the main group, for more than half the season. I left practices in tears also for more than half the season. Not because the people were unfriendly, quite the opposite. I was frustrated with myself for not being able to pick up the routines as quickly as I wanted to. In the end, with persistence, I made it through to the end of the year, and rejoined the team this year.

These three aspects of my life are huge. I have had to work extremely hard at each of them. I am not a natural runner, teacher or dancer. But I gave it that little bit of extra elbow grease in all three areas, and was able to come out on top, upright and smiling.

Because I have had to work so hard at each of these things, I tend to take things "slightly" personally when someone voices their opinion of my abilities in these areas. I fully realize that I am not a fast runner by any means, Boston isn't even an option for me at this time. Having to work every weekend for months, yes, sucks, but it paid out in the end. And yes, I get to pay for a ring to commemorate my being on the dance team, silly? may be, but I earned it.

Now please do not get me wrong, people that are naturally talented amaze me to no end. I love watching naturally talented runners, teachers and dancers...or people that are naturally talented in other areas, like Anderson Silva and other MMA fighters as an example.

But there comes a time when a naturally talented person, loses their luster in my eyes, when cockiness gets in the way. Just because your good at something, doesn't mean that you are to be held in a higher regard than everyone else. As far as I am concerned, you just canceled out your natural talent when you started acting like "the bomb".

I tend to give more credit to those who have had to put in that little bit of extra elbow grease over those that are naturally talented. Personal bias? Oh heck yes. Natural talent is too often squandered. When elbow grease comes into play, it is because that person really wants what they are working towards. They tend to be more invested or passionate about it.

In the end, you cannot deny someone respect that is due, when grease comes into play.

The Lingo Part 55

Phew! Its been 8 months of singledom, and man oh man, the new lingo I am picking up never seems to cease. This also appears to be one of the more popular topics that I write about, so here are some new dating/single/seeing/relationship terms for y'all!

1. The Stand Up Guy: according to Urban Dictionary (woot woot! new fav website!), this is a Mafia term (something that is akin to my blood) that refers to a businessman that is not one to bullshit, can be trusted and will do anything for his family. This type of guy when on the dating hunt, is very very elusive. Only coming out in the daylight when all of us gals are at work. This guy is the one that we all wish we were dating, because we know that he won't downgrade our dates or stand us up, that he will return calls and txts promptly, that he wont go out and get smashed the night before meeting our parents for brunch, he holds down continuous employment, can dress himself, knows how to act accordingly in a group setting and has overall incredible hygiene. This is a much like a unicorn, but if you take a close look at your guy friend roster, you more than likely have a few hiding out.

2. The Year of Trampage: this is a year free of judgement for a lady or gentleman (then refered to the Year of Manwhore), where a person is permitted to do whomever, where ever, when ever. In order to qualify for the Year of Trampage/Manwhore one must have broken up from a significant relationship recently, and by significant, we are talking 3 years plus. If under the 3 year requirement, the year can then be reduced to 6 months for 2 years and 3 months for 1 year and so on. Friends of either a man or woman that is participating in this Year, must remember that this is a no judgement year, so close your eyes, plug your ears and smile!

3. The Downgraded Date: this is my new favorite term by far. Boy asks girl (all scenarios can easily be switched around), on a date on a Sunday. Girl accepts. Girl confirms date is still a go on Thursday. Boy then "magically" remembers a friends birthday party for the time of the date planned. Boy offers to cancel, but expresses that he still really wants to see the Girl, so "how about the afternoon instead?". Do not be confused, this IS the proverbial slap in the face. Through use of non verbal communication, Boy has then told Girl that "she is not a priority over and above drinking with buddies and therefore should not waste her time with me". Ladies, move on. This is NOT a stand up guy. Now, as an exception to most things, life does come into play, such as a death, car accident ect. But should be treated on a case by case basis. Tread lightly.

4. The Stand Up: this is a tactic employed by both guys and gals who do not wish to participate in a date, and is generally used in place of being a real person and calling/txting to cancel. People who engage this strategy are usually cowards, or cocky POS's, that honestly think that the person they made plans with is of a lower class/status than they are. What they are forgetting is that its the other way around. In chatting with a number of my guy friends, not one of them has ever stood a girl up. They have at least done their best to use any form of communication to cancel or reschedule the date. Ladies and gents, it takes 2 seconds to send a txt, don't be a namby pamby.

5. The Pimp Bench: this is a post break up or Year of Trampage/Manwhore, rotation of the opposite sex that you can have a good time with, cause they are super chill. You cycle these people on and off the bench to keep things markedly superficial. This also assist in avoiding the "rebound".

Even though I realized not too long ago that I am much better at being in a relationship than out of one, I am feeling way more at ease with dating this time around. I credit this to figuring out the lingo.

Life is Short

Yesterday, everyone around the country learned that Jack Layton died at home, surrounded by loved ones. He was unsuccessful in his battle with cancer.

When he announced this summer that he was taking a leave of absence for cancer treatment, I like many many others around the country fully believed that he would be back as promised for the fall sitting of Parliament. Hes a fighter. He has tenacity. Strength. And he beat cancer once before. No big deal.

Before learning of his death I was mulling over a number of decisions regarding my single life. Now, politics and love do not go hand in hand usually, but I am going somewhere with this, so bear with me.

I was honestly ready to throw in the towel, to say "screw you love!" and was thinking that may be I was meant to be single for the rest of my life and have very torrid love affairs instead. I was thinking that may be there isn't one person for each of us. That there isn't such thing as a soul mate. Heck, I even went so far as to name my closest besties as my soul mates to help alleviate pressure off of myself in finding that "special someone".

A lot of these feelings had been brought upon by a couple of things.

First, one of my best guys friends has been super down in the dumps for the better part of the last year, may be more. It seriously kills me when I see him like this. He has a sadness about him that is palatable. He loved his ex with a passion that I could only hope to attain one day. And now he is a shell of himself. Not happy with home, work or life really in general. He is generally one of the most optimistic people I know, always happy, excited about life, smiled easily and was so willing to share himself in hopes of finding that special someone.

Knowing him like I do, I thought to myself, if someone that had such zest for love could become embittered towards it, what hope do I have in the grand scheme of things?

The other thing was trying to determine what I really wanted out of love and how much I wanted to give of myself. In the last few months, I have been accused of "being too busy" or "working too much" or "lacking the ability to acknowledge emotional responses from people" ... its hard for me to explain that the reason I do this, is because its a habit. Not because I like it. Its plain and simply a habit. One that was formed out of necessity of not having things to go home to at night, so keep busy and by the time you do get home, its time for bed! Call it avoidance or a defense mechanism, whatever. Habits are hard to break and frankly, I have no idea what I would do with the time on hand otherwise.

And then, Jack Layton died.

I read his letter to Canadians in full. And the ending of the letter, as for most people, brought tears to my eyes. I certainly did not agree with the man's politics, but I do fully agree with his last words:

"My friends, love is better than anger. Hope is better than fear. Optimism is better than despair. So let us be loving, hopeful and optimistic. And we'll change the world"

I readily admit that I was angry, fearful and was on my way to being in despair. But life is short. Too short. I no longer have time to be angry, fearful or even think of despair. It's time to stop dipping my big toe in the water to test the temperature. It's time to just jump right in with both feet, cause hey! that's optimism right? Thanks Jack.

A vs. D

"What do you do when your seeing/dating a guy, and he is busy with work and other stuff for a lot of the time, you know your not seeing/dating anyone else and neither is he, but you know for a fact that he is not giving you his 'A' game? You know that your getting something equivalent to the 'D' Game."

This was one of my besties burning question tonight at dinner with the girls.

The A Game: this is when a guy pulls out all the stops. He calls, he texts, both of which could be late into the night, he bends over backwards to see you which can include flying across the country as an example. And if he even gets a whiff of competition, he blows them out of the water with amazing accuracy. This is something that a guy gives, when he really really likes a girl and wants to be with her. She is the only object of his attention, and he lets her know it explicitly.

The D Game: this is obviously a few levels below the A Game. Sometimes a guy can start out with the A Game, and then downgrade to a D (this is known as the Bait and Switch) depending on the time of year, the seasons, work, friends, other commitments, overall mood of the guy and how much effort he wants to put into things.

My response to my friend was pretty simple: "How long do you wanna wait around to see if circumstances change, and hope that he upgrades his game to an A? And is there a guarantee that this will happen?" The other girls concurred. My friend nodded her head, pushed around her food a bit more, and then said she had some things to think about with regards to this guy.

Over the last 8 months I have come to realize a few things. Each woman is precious. Yes, even the crazy ones. Each one deserves an A Game at least once in their life. They deserve to be treated like a princess, and have a guy sweep them off their feet and carry them off into the sunset and be happy, for at least a little while.

As much of a realist that I am, even I to a very very small degree, want this. I would love to have the feeling of being the only object of someones attention. To be made to feel special, unique, cherished.

Not being in my friends situation, I can easily become an arm chair coach to her relationship. When I was faced with the same circumstances last year, I waited around, and the A Game never made an appearance, in fact the game downgraded to worse than a G.

But that was in that one situation. And now having seen levels of the game lower than an A, I know that I refuse to settle for anything less. So fellas, word of warning: buckle up and get your gloves ready, cause I only want to see your A Game.

Tasted Like White Cake

Being on the same page as others I am finding out is fairly important...not only in the grand scheme of things, but even on a day to day basis. If your not, then miscommunication of sometimes fabled proportions can happen. Which is tragic, but entirely avoidable.

I need to be on the same page as my boss in order to perform my job duties effectively.

I need to be on the same page as Mr. Ari, so that the puppy hugs never cease.

I need to be on the same page as my banker...because apparently if Victoria Secret happens to have a sale on 2 weekends in a row, I still "should" eat in between those 2 weekends.

I need to be on the same page as my friends, cause they are my soul mates and I really don't want the universe to reach out and slap me. And because they are also my chosen family, which is significant in it's self.

I need to be on the same page with my trainers and my body...I have over an hour to shave off my last marathon race time, and I need to complete the training without becoming injured.

I need to be on the same page with the contractors who are fixing (or supposed to be) my house...I could really use my closet space back as soon as possible, cause everything is everywhere!

At the end of the day, when all is said and done, I need to be on the same page as myself. Sounds strange, I know. But with everything happening in my life of late, I feel as if a whirling dervish has blown in, and not left.

I am starting to get the hang of it now though. Finding that balance has been key...and I have to tell you, once I realized that I was starting to be on the same page as myself, it tasted like white cake.