All good things must come 2 an end

Last night I saw Miami Vice, with my pseudo sugga daddy, who is moving to California next month. Sigh, must all good things come to an end?

It had all the ingredients of what should be a successful movie:
Action
Love and supposed to be ‘steamy’ sex scenes, that didn’t quite work since Collin Farrel and the woman (whose heritage was supposed to be a mix between Asian and Spanish, but only resulted in a very distorted accent) had absolutely no chemistry, on the other hand Jamie Fox’s new body is rather scrumptious. Um Um good….
Possible tragedy, but then everything works out nicely in the end
Last but not least, the big bad guy got away…..do I smell a sequel??


On another note, Fathead, my seventeen year old brother, celebrated his one year anniversary with a girl I affectionately refer to as Baal. He took her to the CN tower. Now since I can’t say (since I have yet to celebrate an anniversary with someone) but at seventeen isn’t Jack Astor’s enough? I mean CN tower is a rather lavish affair. And what’s with the year celebration? They are seventeen. The whole thing is rather irksome. Oh Gosh I am one of those annoying and over protective sisters.

At least once a day, my cell phone that I keep near my computer makes every electronic device in the room buzz loudly for no apparent reason. I think it is like the hiccups. It buzzes every time someone is thinking about me, picks up the phone to call, but gets interrupted by life. (Yes my vanity knows, no Limits!)

Onward and Upward!

Went to see a condo last night, which was a cozy closet. Actually I am quite confident that the entire condo was the size of my current room and closet. Everything was tiny, the bedroom, the sauna, the gym. It was like a building built for midgets. My exasperated realtor kept hinting that if I continued to want to live in the area I would have to accept the size and price. Perhaps, but I saw a ton of apartment/condo buildings along the way. And since I have tons of time, why not keep looking. I must be the most irritating type of client to have, one with just enough money to be taken seriously, who has the most impossible demands and who seems willing to wait indefinitely. Little does poor realtor know, but my goal is to move by next summer and not necessarily next month. Poor chicky.

I just read the most disturbing book, called Ghost Children by Sue Townsend. It was about the choices various characters had made about having children and the obsession it became afterwards. The most disturbing part is the description of this fellow punching out a fourteen month old, that makes you want to reach into the book and snatch his neck and shake him. The saddest ironies of life is that sometimes the ones who are having children are the most thoughtless and neglectful people out there, and those who have the desire to be caring and giving parents are often childless. And the lack of children itself becomes an obsession that takes over them and their lives.

The weekend was non eventful. I did nothing and avoided the outside world. Instead I watched a couple of documentaries the first one on Tornado chasers, about people who live on the edge. The next was on Noam Chomsky and the media. I had heard about Noam Chomsky before in passing. I knew he was a sort of leftist softie, against the usual American Policy stance, which the documentary confirmed, he is. But I do think he is a little more complex, like most leading figures. He rightly points out that things like the civil rights movement and India’s battle for independence were not events carried out in isolation by one man (Ghandi, Martin Luther King.) There were a million unsung/unheard of heroes that did the work.
After all no matter what we think, no ‘revolution’ is ever free from ugliness and bloodshed on both sides. Of course Mandela was a pristine leader, sitting in his cell quietly contemplating emancipating South Africa, his wife was outside leading the change, and inevitably got her hands dirty. Anyway I digress. I find Chomsky interesting, not for his political views, (those seem rather common place) but for his willingness to at least purport that he will listen to both sides of the story and to stand up for what he believes (defending the fool’s right to freedom of speech even though he was claiming that gas chambers did not exist in WWII.) I am also interested in figuring out whether Noam is suggesting we live in a state of civilized anarchy?

And now a final word on Draconian. Anyone reading this blog may think that for quite a bit, it has been all about him. In a way it has been. I met Dracs at a time in life where everything was muddy. The life I had planned for myself had failed to take shape. Even though he obviously does not realize it (or perhaps a better word is ‘care’,) he has been a huge part of my life for the last two years. He has been present in everything I did and part of many of the choices I made. I didn’t plan it that way. Frankly I planned it quite the opposite. It is always the one you 'plan' not to fall for that you ironically fall the hardest for. Dracs is the most fascinating man I have met. Part of his fascination is his expert ability to be as cold as he needs to be to protect himself from anything that would hurt him. Or maybe that is just me being fanciful. Either way, though I probably will not mention him again, I miss him and his spirit hangs over me like a shadow I long for. I can not be sorry I met him and I know that I will forever be sad that he left. And even though I know he does not feel the same, I won’t help it.

Now onward and upward!

About Jarwegians and the real thing

Thursday night I saw Dracs again after ages. It was inevitable (so please stop with those sounds of scorn.) It was like old times. It was exactly what I needed. Sitting on his balcony with the spot light beaming down on me, having a long drawn out debate about whether it is possible to take everything away from someone…I laughed and realized how incredibly comfortable I feel with him. He’s like home. Yet some things have changed and I couldn’t have felt it more. On the Up side, my toothbrush is still around and the D seal is intact. (I know, I know)

Yesterday the Jarwegian calls again, so I finally agree to have dinner with him. Now all u boys out there listen up, if you’re taking a girl out who is above the age of eighteen and if you want to impress her, you got to have a little bit of suvave going on. The boy was sweet, but a boy. He had no game plan, no conversation and hesitated over the cheque. Three strikes and your out.

I am getting a little harsh these days.

In other news, Pluto has been downgraded to a sub planet. Now Pluto has been around for a while, we have Disney characters and little children named after it. How could we allow these nerds to get together and let them strip Pluto of its planetary status?? On behalf of Pluto I am deeply offended. I got your back P!

Things I will do when I buy my own place:

Sleep, walk around and do select chores all natural!

Make my balcony a hippie haven, complete with cheesy Chinese lanterns

Have a million paintings and colors everywhere….

Learn to cook

Have only a bed for the first six months

Somehow steal/buy the amazing colossal painting from Nawlins

Throw a party, a mega party, and invite everyone I know, have ever known, and want to get to know (have a nutty theme, may make people wear togas….always wanted to know what the fuss over togas was about.)

On Sunday afternoons, open all the windows, let the sun stream in and take a nap listening to some amazing jazz

Guiltlessly have an hour long shower

Throw weekend parties, and only invite friends that can play an instrument and love to drink wine

Have someone make me breakfast in bed….so as to make use of the silly breakfast tray I bought needlessly from Ikea

Wait till I have no underwear left to do laundry

Accidentally leave lights on and have no person to yell at me about it

Recruit for a snobby intellectual circle, (with at least one member, who has long scraggly hair and thick black rimmed glasses,) and talk for hours about hypothetical/random things, that have no bearing on reality

Stock the fridge with tons of Juice, and enjoy the fact that it does not disappear instantaneously

Going Public

As a novice blogger (and computer user in general,) it has taken me forever to figure out how to link other blogs to mine (or put up pictures or do anything more advance than edit/post on those prefabricated templates.) One of the greatest things about being a true procrastinator is that even using the help menu can be a ridiculously demanding task.

Thanks to my non demanding job (because slacking off on your on time just ain’t right,) I have had the pleasure to stumble on many entertaining blogs. A few (two actually The Company Bitch and Mad Bull’s) I read religiously. Both are part of my mandatory reading for the day. A day just isn’t complete without a bit of saucy humor from CB or a view of the luscious pics on Mad Bull’s site. (I would hyper link you guys over but jeez, it took me an hour to figure out how to link them to my side bar.)

Anyhoo I finally figured it out, and am bravely attempting to link others to this whinny little blog. Since I am finally in the flow of posting on a semi regular basis, maybe someone (other than the woman offering to send me a hundred grand from my social insurance number) will comment. Or maybe Ill be taken into the fold of the blogging community and be invited to the snazzy blogging shindigs all over the world.

One must have goals.

I feel like a drug addict in recovery.

I have all the symptoms:
Crazy vivid dreams
Emphatic vows never to go back there
Strange compulsions & Moments of pathetic weakness when I just need one more ‘fix’
Instant regret at even thinking of getting one more ‘fix’
Moments of euphoria at suddenly being free
Followed instantaneously by utter depression at being ‘set free’

All these and I keep reciting the serenity prayer.

People on the subway are starting to get alarmed. That’s when you know you’ve hit a new low.

Small Things

It is three o’clock and it is pouring. I haven’t bought an umbrella. Dang it.

The weekend was eventful. Friday night the harem arrived a half hour late to watch Lord of the Rings, the play. The play was visually gorgeous. The uniforms were rich and elaborate, the set was amazing for its details. Sadly the play itself was a bit of a bore. Lot’s of folksy little songs, and frankly if you hadn’t watched the movies you would be quite lost. It was nice and cool in the theatre and I had the most wonderful nap during the second act. Later we went to Cervaja, this little ratty Brazilian bar on College Street. We went to Meet S’s very smoking man. Congrats So, the boy is so very pretty.

Saturday kicked some ass at TKD. I was fantastic (if I might say so myself.) I finally remembered all the patterns and for the first time in four weeks, managed to not look like an idiot. I could be the next Bruce Lee. Call me Little Lee. Later went to our supposed book club gathering. I think it is about time we dropped the sham. All we do is eat and drink. I am the only person who consistently reads the book. We had it at this girl’s condo complex. This complex is amazing it has an indoor and outdoor pool, a bowling alley, a theatre, the works. The outdoor pool was fantastic. There we were on a Saturday afternoon in our little bikinis, soaking up the sun, munching down some yummy BBQ. Felt like we were on Montego Bay rather than TO.

Sunday was all about the family. At the party a little boy, well he was eighteen-ish and rather hot for a baby, tried to put the moves on me. The chile was even running his fingers down my back, and licking his lips as he spoke. Shame! He kept whispering in my ear how I should take it upon myself to teach him things. I was mildly amused, and also mildly horrified. Finally, felt what its like to be Jerry Hall. Definitely something to keep in mind for the future, darker days.

The most fabulous news of all is that my crazy aunt and uncle are gone. Hurrah!

Just found out my little dream condo was sold yesterday.

Ahh dreams are so flighty.

To Keep On Rolling

I am in the analysis stage of getting over dracs.

I analyze first thing in the morning, because as soon as I wake up it hits me hard, that I can’t call him during the day and I won’t be seeing him again.

I analyze last thing at night. I remember all the various fights and it comes down to the fact that I never trusted him. Perhaps that was my fault.

Then his words ring in my ears. About how he isn’t ready to settle down, how he wants to see do other people, and in my head I imagine seeing him around the corner, casually enquiring how all his whoring is going. Is it working out for you?

Ugh, getting over people is such a pain. Wish I could go to a memory eraser, like in that movie ‘Eternal Sunshine.’


In other news, I have found the ‘theoretically’ perfect condo of my dreams.

It’s in the right area, it’s huge, in an old building which I find charming, but most people would find cruddy, it’s a huge space, huge living room and dinning room….a proper dinning room that I could make into a library. I am to see it Monday. Most likely nothing will come of it, but jee wiz it has been fun to dream for the past couple of days.

It is scary though, learning about co-ownership rules, property taxes, and the cost of hydro! And then the inevitable ‘what if’ questions arise. What if I lose my job, what if I am poor and destitute, what if I get lonely. Worse what if I become one of the million single women who get so used to living by herself that she ends up all alone. (I am seriously going through a needy phase!)

Then again life is all about chugging forward, and the most exciting times of life are usually the ones where you have everything to lose.

A Case of 'Tabanka'

I had lunch with some of Dracs friends. I tried to avoid it, but I couldn't find a way out without seeming petty, so I went.

Turns out I am suffering from a case of 'Tabanka,' which is trini speak for grieving over the end of a relationship, the part where you conveniently remember only the good times, listen to sappy songs and somehow manage to apply it to your situation. Me gots a serious case of Tabanka. Though I wouldn't admit it to anyone but an anonymous blog.

So in honor of my 'Tabanka' here are some corny quotes from my Fav Corny show, Grey's Anatomy:

"Hurts less if you don't see it coming."

"George, the pity thing? Not good. If you want crappy things to stop happening to you, then stop accepting crap and demand something more.The road to hell is paved with good intentions."

"You can waste your lives drawing lines. Or you can live your life crossing them."

"She wanted you to know that if love were enough, she'd still be here with you."

Caribana Weekend

I jumped Up. I wined Up. I did my part to keep the festivities going. I met my so called boyfriend at a fete, and decided to give up all pretenses. We are over…like a four leaf clover. (I know that is silly and doesn’t make sense, but the lines been in my head all weekend long.)

I took my baby brother out with us this weekend. He isn’t such a baby really, almost eighteen, three times my height. And he is downright scandalous. He was chasing the women down like a hound hunting deer. At one point two little pickney’s caught him and let him have it. All while his bigger sister looked on in amusement and horror. What happened to my sweet little boy who followed me around like a shadow? Ek.

Carnival in Yuh Backyard was hot. Met the goddess boy from my birthday. I was a little starry eyed from one too many rum and cokes. He was a hottie. As I was leaving he says email me Tuesday. Alritee then.

So I take the train down with alien hands this morning and he tells me that goddess boy doesn’t drive, out of choice. He is my age and never felt the urge to get his license. Now I suppose most of you might find this shallow, but who in Canada doesn’t feel the need to get their license. I mean it is one thing not to have a car, it is quite another not to ever have gotten your license. Hello, when you are at the bus stop freezing your nuts off, it must cross your mind at least once.

Fate is being cruel to me.

Oh God, CHFI is playing 'soca' in honor of Caribanna....GUESS which song they played: The Dollar Song......Oey Vey!

A summer Evening

Last night E calls up, says he’s got free tickets to see a comedy show. The word FREE should have been my warning. Instead I say good stuff. He says oh, by the way, it is going to be taped. I say wohoo! I may be on TV. You know one of those people in the shows that gets picked on for wearing something too bright, or having a peculiar nose.

What the comedy show was actually about: it was a taping for one of those sketch shows on the comedy network. Alright, I kept an open mind. So we get in line, and it’s the oddest people. How did they all hear about this? We walk into the studio, and it is amazing, they’ve got four different sets, set up parallel to each other. There is one decorated like a bachelor pad, complete with dry ice lava lamps, and a nifty D hung up in the center. Interesting I thought. Then I see the seats. Ten rows of fifty seats, so close together. Ugh. I end up sitting between E and a humongous woman, with an obvious asthma problem. Double Ugh. So the sketches start, and none, not one, was funny. Serious Lame O. Worst part was that they shot everything twice. So you had to pretend to laugh even harder the second time. After four sketches I had enough. I had to escape. But we were at the far end of the audience. I spotted this cute boy who I had made mooney eyes to in line, stealthily walking out. I was convinced it was a sign. I ordered E to get a move on. Apologized to a zillion knees as I bumped my way out. And finally Freedom!

So we went to Nawlins. Now you may not know of Nawlins. And I pity you for it. Nawlins is a little bitty jazz bar on King Street. They serve some gorgeous Cajun food. The Gumbo Soup is heaven, seriously the best in Toronto. What I love best about Nawlins, is the size. It’s a small narrow hall way. The walls are filled with amazing paintings and photographs of all the greats. There is this amazing one of Billy Holiday with a rose in her hair bellowing her heart out. And another of a musician strumming one of those great big guitar looking instruments whose name I can never remember. It is so tiny, yet has the most amazing acoustics. Plus the band is right in your face. Last night David Rotund was doing his Bluesy Jazz thing, with his harmonica. And I drowned three glasses of shiraz.

Well worth the pounding headache and red eyes this morning.