Forever

I haven't had to deal with death a whole lot so far in my life. I wouldn't say that I'm afraid of it, nor would I say that I deny that it happens. But because I haven't had to face it.

I guess I kind of have been living in an imaginary world where everyone just lives forever.

I consider myself pretty damn fortunate. Lucky even.

My grandfather lived with my parents my entire life.

I have known him my entire life.

He took care of my sisters and I while my parents were at work. He made me my favourite breakfast every morning: cheese on bread. Not the healthiest of meals, but he knew I loved it, and that was reason enough for him to make it for me.

When I was about ten, I spun myself into a glass door. He was the first one to help me. Even though his legs were bad and he couldn't move very quickly, he RAN to me and pulled me out.

Then he covered me with band aids, just because I wanted them all.

He was the paparazzi my sisters and I never had. Any time we'd be practicing singing or anything, he'd be hiding around the corner with his video camera.

Any time he thought we might need something, he'd go out and bring things home. He wanted to be a part of our lives no matter where we were, or what we were doing. Even if he couldn't physically be there.

I miss him. The house seems so empty and quiet without him.

It's hard, and I don't even know what to write to make my heart stop aching the way it is.

Needless to say, it's been a long couple of weeks.

Is This Thing Still On?

Holy. Crap.

It's been awhile.

Truth is, I just haven't felt like blogging. I would sit and try to churn something or other out and it just felt forced, and wrong, and horrible.

So I didn't post.

Clearly.

I also haven't been reading any blogs. HORRIBLE! TERRIBLE! I know. But hopefully what I explain to you next will make you forgive me maybe a little.

The cruise was lovely, relaxing and sunny. For the most part. Towards the end we experienced what I like to call, Waves of Doom, which caused the ship to rock back and forth... and back and forth... and back and forth...

I felt like I was drunk for 24 hours.

"But that's a wicked, ass slapping good time!" One might say. I am here to tell you that no. It is NOT.

Things after the cruise have been happening, obviously, as things do. My job ends tomorrow and that gives me more heart palpitations than I know what to do with. I kind of feel like throwing up all the time actually, and since that is my most least favourite thing to do, I really hope this feeling stops VERY SOON. Like riiiiiight... NOW.

Fail.

Basically I've been applying for jobs every day, all day, in my sleep, kill me now... you get the point. It's time consuming, and a exhausting, but the point is I should get an A for effort.

I expect to see them in the mail next week.

On the plus side, I DO have a job interview tomorrow, my fingers are permanently crossed, very difficult to do, but it eases that whole panic thing I was mentioning before.

Breathe. Must remember to breathe.

I also have been working on a novel, which is intense and oh so seriously time consuming, but it makes me feel happy and complete, like I've finally discovered what it is I'm supposed to be doing with my life, and that's the kind of feeling I enjoy.

So that's what's been going on with me.

I promise to catch up on your lives.

You'll be hearing from me soon.

<3

BLAH

I've been feeling very, very BLAH lately.

It sucks, and I wish I would snap out of it, but alas. Winter does nothing but make me want to hibernate and I still got, oh, about three months of it left.

If I'm lucky.

Work is also giving me a bit of a panic attack as I don't know if they plan on keeping me around much longer. Combine that with the fact that I've found the PERFECT apartment that I might not be able to afford? You've got one seriously happy camper.

The kind that likes to eat whole tubs of Ben and Jerry's in one sitting.

Now I'm going to make an announcement that may cause many of you to want to smack me over the head.

I am going on a Cruise to the Caribbean. I leave next Saturday.

I am SUPER, more than I can possibly explain EXCITED, but I feel like other things in my life are just getting in the way of ENJOYING myself.

Or MAYBE, I'm just a big whiner and should shut it because at least I'm GOING on a vacation. Also, I currently HAVE a job. Many people do not, and therefore I should be THANKFUL.

Alright my lovely readers, that is all for now. Sorry I'm not a little more chipper, but hopefully the weekend can cure me of my BLAHS!

Have a good one.

Put Your Hands Up and Step Away From the Phone

Last night I went to see Benjamin Button with a few friends from work.

It was a pretty good movie despite the fact that I thought it could have been a little shorter. This thought may or may not have been motivated by the fact that I drank about a gallon of water at dinner, and had to pee real bad like twenty minutes into the movie.

Could I have just gone to the bathroom? Yes. But the one time I did that, (I forget what movie it was, so clearly this is very important. Clearly.) I apparently missed the funniest part in life. When I came back everyone was doing knee slaps and pretty much peeing their pants themselves. Then when I asked what happened I got shushed and spent the rest of the movie trying to figure things out.

Anyway, this really has nothing to do with what I want to say.

I just feel closer to ya'll when I share things.

Aside from the whole peeing thing, what really, REALLY irritated me was the fact that every ten minutes, people were whipping out their cell phones. The bright light was SUPER distracting. In fact, at one point, six people in a row had them out, and they were texting like fiends.

It reminded my why my love for cell phones has gradually turned into annoyance.

There have been instances I've seen (and it's even within my group of friends) where I've been dancing my little heart out at a club/wherever or even eating a meal, and I turn around only to see that all my friends are standing there with their phones out, texting away.

It's ridiculous! Whatever happened to enjoying the company that you're with? Having conversations with the people who are right in front of you? When someone does that to me, I honestly find myself thinking, "well why did you even bother coming out? you clearly would much rather be somewhere else."

I'm not afraid to state this either.

Now don't get me wrong, obviously I understand that sometimes there are emergencies and so on. If it's not? Will the other person DIE if you don't get back to them IMMEDIATELY?

Anyway. I'm curious, what do other people feel about this? Does it annoy you as much as it annoys me? Or am I just crazy?

It's alright if you think I'm crazy.

Vertigo

Every winter I have what I like to call: The Biggest Fall In Life.

Basically what happens is, I slip on some ice and make a ridiculous fool out of myself as I crash to the ground in front of as many people as possible.

Yes. I AM the coolest person you know.

So.

This morning, I was walking along, completely absorbed in my thoughts. I was thinking how great my bagel was going to be because I had whipped cream cheese. And everyone knows that there's just something way more awesome and delicious about cream cheese that has been whipped. I don't know why this is, but I'm not about to question something that is just to amazing for words.

Anyway.

The next thing I knew, I saw my foot in front of my face.

I thought, "Huh. That's not right." and then I fell flat on my back, pretty much successfully knocking the wind right out of myself. I was also holding a bunch of bags so my hands were a little to preoccupied to do anything about bracing my fall.

Useless, useless hands!

Thankfully it was rush hour, so about a bajillion people saw it happen, and about the same number heard me say, in a very lady-like tone of voice "HOLY FUCK THAT HURT!"

Your Grandma would love me.

I immediately got up and wiped the dirty, dirty slush from my coat. This guy asked if I was alright, but I could see that he was doing everything in his power not to burst out laughing. I couldn't blame him. If I had seen me fall, I would have laughed too. It was just that ridiculous.

I told him I was fine and pretty much ran into my building and onto the elevator.

This was where things got EXTRA fun.

Black spots started to cloud my vision, and all I could think was "Good lord I am going to faint! I am going to faint on this elevator and fall on top of someone!" Of course the elevator was rammed. Did you really have to ask?

Finally, the twelfth floor rolled around and I managed to get out without much difficulty. Except for the whole part where I slammed into the side of the elevator. That was when someone from my floor saw me, asked if I was ok, then helped me put my head between my knees.

Sweet, glorious relief.

I'm feeling alright now, ate my stupid bagel (and glorious cream cheese) and had some tea, so I'm thinking the combination of low blood sugar and the fall kinda had a hand in the whole "what the hell, why can't I see anything but black dots?!?" thing.

I just can't wait to see the bruise. I have a feeling it's going to be the Champion of all Bruises.

I just hope I won't find myself on YouTube this afternoon.

Cause, you know, the whole experience wasn't embarassing enough.

Working on My Fitness

Last night I went to the gym for the first time in, ohhhh, about eight months.

2008 fitness level = FAIL.

I thought it was time I paid my dear friend the Elliptical a visit, considering the fact that when I was playing hockey in Montreal, the main reason my team made me goalie was because I was out of breath within about three minutes.

Apparently not running for the ball and letting the opposing team by while wheezing makes some people on your team angry.

Anyway, the gym was fine. I did a SUPER short workout of thirty minutes. I didn't have a heart attack so I felt that all in all the Elliptical and I had a nice reunion.

When I went back to the change room, some chick was standing by the locker I had used and there was a note taped to it. Apparently management wanted to see me.

My heart immediately started to pound, because for some unexplainable reason my first thought was that I'm was trouble and that the gym police were going to arrest me.

Does this make me slightly crazy?

Yes. Yes it does.

The chick sees that I'm heading to the locker and tells me that she left her wallet on the top shelf and asks if I had seen it. I had put my clothes up there because, well, that was where I had decided to put them. So I hadn't seen anything, but checked for her because I am an amazing person and thinking that your wallet has been stolen sucks.

It was there. Good news for her, but I could immediately tell by the look on her face that she thought I was pretending not to have seen it.

That just pissed me off.

Now, I don't know if all of you know, but I am

short

. Lockers are tall. I lost a pair of socks back there once and had to climb the damn thing just to get them back. There was no way I would have seen it, and it was far enough back there that I didn't feel it when I put my clothes there.

Then she was all, "Well, let me check to make sure that nothings missing."

Maybe it was PMS, maybe it was the dirty look she was giving me. Who can really say? All I know is, I kinda wanted to punch her in the face.

Really. I WANTED something to be missing at this point, as mean as that sounds. That way, I could have told her to let management look through my things. Then she would have felt stupid when I didn't have any of her crap, management would have had to give me something for making me feel like a criminal and then I could have called her an IDIOT for putting her wallet there in the first place!

Don't hassle me when you're the one who left it there for three hours. Anyone could have taken something genius!

Luckily I didn't have to get all up in her space, and when she realized everything was there, she kinda slunk away and I am happy that I will never have to see her again.

Unless she's using my Elliptical when I want it.

Then things might get really nasty.

Happy New Year!

Good lord it's January already.

I totally meant to do a Christmas post, and I was determined to do a New Years post, but alas (as you can probably tell) that did not happen.

Christmas was excellent, full of family visits and eating of chocolates.

Please don't make me decide which I liked more.

The Turducken was created and eaten and much to my delight was given away to guests on their way out. Leftovers? All. Gone. Success!!

I may have done a little happy dance.

New Years was equally awesome as my family went to visit more family in Montreal. We stayed at a Chalet and it was absolutely glorious.

Indoor pool, outside hockey playing area, (I was goalie. My team may have lost. Badly.) trampoline*, Bailey's and copious amounts of food... could you blame me for not posting?

No. You cannot**.

The only thing that started to grate on my nerves was the fact that just because I was single, I got shafted to the shittiest sleeping areas ever.

Why is it that the best places to sleep (AKA: Queen size, luxurious bed) are always given to the couples??

Fine. There are two of you, but there is also a pull out couch. One that is lumpy and creaks every time you move so that you get no sleep. One that is in a room so cold that you shiver half the night in the fetal position, wishing that morning would come soon so you can wake other people up and cuddle with them. Something you would have done earlier except you understand that interrupting "couple time" might get you a punch in the face.

I suffer so much.

Anyway. I am determined to get back on the blogging regularily track, as well as the commenting. It is my one and only New Years resolution.

Clearly, I love you all.

*Anyone remember that episode of the Simpsons where Homer sees a free trampoline in the paper? Then he freaks out and just screams random words that sound like trampoline but aren't? I may have done that the whole weekend. People may have wanted to punch me in the face.

**I missed you all! I truly did. Seriously. Happy New Year to you all!