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Tuesday, 9 April 2019


Oh, where to start? I have many different thoughts and feelings around why I, at my age and for the first time in my adult life, find myself single/unattached/consciously uncoupled/completely on my own.

First off, let me just say that I don’t dislike being single.  Quite the contrary; I mean, you can’t beat the freedom, and I do love my freedom.  It’s VERY IMPORTANT to me. I do whatever I want, whenever I want to do it.  Nothing needs to be “run by” anyone.  It’s pretty fantastic, not having to answer to or consider anyone else in my daily life. 

On the other hand – that pesky other hand – there is the loneliness.  I have no one to chat with over dinner, no one to have those curled-up-in-the-chair-after-a-long-day conversations with, no one to turn to and smirk at when something particularly inane is on TV, and no one’s shoulder to bury my face into while watching a scary movie.  I was watching a program about the 1992 LA Riots awhile back, and spent most of the program in tears.  I could have used a hug, but there was no one there to hug me.  There never is. 

But it gets a lot more complicated than simply answering the question, do I want a boyfriend or don’t I?  In a perfect world, I’d have a gay boyfriend.  He’d be clean and neat, have amazing skincare products, a great wardrobe that I could dig into from time to time, and it would be NBD if he caught a glimpse of me naked, or vice versa.  I think that David Rose, in all of his high maintenance and screechy glory, would be the perfect roommate for me.  HE wouldn’t judge me because I have more eyeshadow than any girl or queen could possibly need or want.  HE would totally understand ♥

I also can’t ignore the fact that it wouldn’t be easy for me to find someone to date at my age. I’m a 62-year-old woman, y’all! And while I think I’ve held up reasonably well and look fairly nice most days, let’s be real; my traffic-stopping days are behind me.  Unless, of course, I literally throw myself in front of traffic. 

Then there’s the, “I’ve been burned before and I’m not dumb enough to do that again” thing.  I think, for me, this is the BIGGEST thing.  My last romance ended badly, and while I can sit here and tell you that I am 100% over it, I can’t say I’d be willing to risk my heart again.  I mean, for what?  In purely pragmatic terms, the risk is too great and the return on investment is simply not there.

So, I’m staying single, and I’m not unhappy about that J  It’s the right decision for me…at least, for now.

Thanks for being here with me. XO.

Thursday, 20 April 2017


I’m just going to admit it; I’m not a happy person right now.  I’m on edge, I’m irritated, and I’m taking it out on fruit.  And here’s why.

I moved into a condo last summer and life has been pretty pleasant there, until last week when I discovered there was a water leak in my happy little place, due to a structural problem with the upstairs balcony.  My management company has assessed the situation and confirmed that this repair is their responsibility, yet, it hasn’t been fixed yet!  And why not?  Because they haven’t received the quote for the repair from their contractor.  Apparently the contractor is “very busy”.  Well, maybe the contractor needs to be made to understand that I AM FREAKING OUT OVER HERE.  It’s pouring rain today and all I can do is imagine the flood I will be going home to later.  I don’t see myself handling that situation well on any level whatsoever, so I’m having some suicide pills overnighted to me, just in case L

That fresh fuckery aside, life in Toronto is pretty pleasant these days.  Spring is here, the snow is all gone, and people are happy to have survived yet another Canadian winter.  For those who haven’t been to Toronto, one of the things you need to know is that most people here are exceedingly polite.  I often go to a little coffee shop near my office for lunch on weekdays, and in the entire five-minute visit, I will hear the phrases, “excuse me”, "I'm sorry" and “thank you” at least 10-20 times.  Canadians abhor rudeness in general, and we actually pride ourselves on the fact that people abroad can always tell us apart from Americans because we are so polite and respectful, as opposed to rude and pushy.  And please know that I’m not SAYING that; I’m just REPEATING it, okay? So before anyone gets mad at me for profiling Americans in this manner, I will just quote the writer David Sedaris (an American himself), who refers to Americans as “the trumpeting elephants of the human race”.  Come on, that’s damn funny…and you know you laughed, ya damn Yankee J

But in fairness to Americans, I will concede that although yes, they can be hellishly loud and fairly rude, they’re also very, very friendly, and always happy to assist tourists and educate us on the wonder that is the U.S.A.  New York City – which I love, love, love – is a classic example of this.  The place is an assault on the senses, it truly is. The crowds, the lights, the noise, the traffic, the hordes of people; it moves at a pace most people in Canada are just not accustomed to.  But I’ve always been able to get someone to point me in the direction of the nearest Duane Reade, even as they nearly decapitate me with their briefcase and race by me to steal my cab.  Floridians are so very helpful when they tell you not to worry about the sharks in Daytona Beach or the murder rate in Miami.  And Californians, bless them, will always pat your hand and reassure you – “it’s just a small one” – as the world starts to move side-to-side, sirens go off, the dinner table dances across the room and paintings fall off of the walls.   America J  Already great, if you ask me!

And as it is 12:19 now, I think it’s time to lose myself in a slice of pizza and maybe a bag of Cadbury Mini Eggs.  I thank you for taking the time to read my blog, and until next time….CIAO.

Monday, 17 April 2017

Six Years Later...

Star date: April 17, 2017 and here I am, finally picking up my baby which I abandoned nearly a full six years ago. Much has happened in my life these past six years and I feel like I am different now, yet not.  Life experiences always shape us and I've had some major ones these past six years.  Let's recap, shall we?

  • I am employed again :)  I was fortunate enough to be hired by an amazing company in November of 2011, and I've enjoyed every day I've been there.  All the stars lined up for me on this one, clearly.  It's close to home, it's a Canadian company, the work is fun and the people are fantastic.  I got so very lucky landing this gig, really!  I'll work there until I either a) somehow come up with enough money to be able to retire (giggling and shaking my head as I ponder that) or b) die. 

  • I am single again. Fully single.  And there are details, rather dirty and awful ones, behind the events that led to my resuming single status, but I don't think I'll get into it right now.  I will, though; I promise I will as I believe that might lead to further healing for myself.  Said healing being necessary, because while I do feel like I've moved on, my psyche rudely and abruptly informed me a couple of nights ago that is NOT the case as it plunged my brain into a terrible, awful dream about terrible, awful people and the things they do.  Or did. To me.  Yeah, the terrible, awful things they did TO ME.

  • I have relocated my life.  My ex and I sold our house last April - and that whole process is something I will get into in more detail in another post - and I moved into my own little place the following June.  Life here in my condo has taken me through so many emotions; at first I felt displaced, terribly lonely, and hopeless about the future.  Drama-queening it up, as I do ;)  But as the months passed by, I started to shed the painful layer that was my past with Andy, and began feeling safer and freer every day in my own little house.  Partly because my Mom is here with me, but she can only be here sometimes, because she's an angel now and has my other siblings to tend to as well. 

  • Yes, my mother died :(  In November 2015, just a couple of weeks after her 80th birthday.  It's been a shock to me just how much I wish she was still here.  I assume it's safe to say that all people who have parents also have an awareness that their parents will die someday, especially as every year goes by and we all get older.  But the feeling of not having a mother, of being an orphan, and of just wishing she was still can't really prepare for that.  It's life-changing, obviously.

  • And finally, I am facing the fact that I am mentally ill.  I could be bipolar, or have a mood disorder, or just plain old depression....I really don't fucking know.  What I do know is something's going on and I have to finally face it head on and deal with it.  DEAL WITH IT.  What that will entail is kind of a mystery to me, but I know it will start with a visit to my doctor and probably some sort of drug therapy.  It's scary, but I have no choice.  If I were alone in this world it would be different; I could drive myself off a cliff a la Thelma and Louise and call it a life, but I'm not alone.  I have a fantastic family, a handful of truly great friends, and I have two cats who depend on me.  So, I can't peace out, as much as I'd like to at times, because to do that would be to leave my kitties homeless, to leave my family wracked with guilt and sadness forevermore, and everybody else wondering, who's gonna post all the kickass shoe pics on Facebook now?

So this is me and this is today. I'm going to try and get back in here once a week and keep this ball rolling because, in my wildest dreams, I am a writer :)  Wish me luck and send me love <3 ciao="" for="" nbsp="" now.="" p="">

Friday, 15 July 2011

"WTF?" is the New Black

Just to clarify for those who are scratching their heads over the title of this post, The New Black is a term used by the fashion industry to describe the latest fad, trend or style.  You see, kids, when it comes to fashion, black is always in style, so to label something as “the new black” is to say it’s the hottest new thing (or thang).  Which is why I’ve bogarted the term for this post, because it seems to me that public profanity has reached such a level of acceptance in our society that it’s achieved “new black” status.  Like, seriously…WTF??

Don’t get me wrong; I’m no prude by any stretch of the imagination.  I’ve never hesitated to let a good curse word fly when the situation calls for it, and I may or may not be known as someone with quite the filthy mouth.  I’m not offended by the use of profanity I’m hearing out there in the world.  I’m just surprised by it.  Like, when did it become okay for people to freely drop f-bombs at work all day long?  Or for kids playing in their own backyards to curse and swear without seeming to care if their neighbours or even their parents can hear them?  I’ve definitely seen an increase in the use of the “F” word in print lately, such as in magazines and newspapers, and even my 67-year-old mother-in-law used the word “cocksucker” recently to describe a friend of her husband’s!   It’s just….weird.  Swearing is now mainstream and you know what?  That kind of sucks because swear words were a lot more fun when they were BAD WORDS.  But how bad can a word be when old ladies and little kids use it on a regular basis?  Not that f-ing bad, I guess...*lol*

So what else is going on with me?  Well, I’m still unemployed and am NOT enjoying that.  It’s really, really, really boring, you guys.  I mean, I always try to look at the bright side of all situations, and I do believe that I will find a great job….but when???  I’m now at the 20-weeks unemployed mark, and according to a recent statistic on unemployment in these recessionary times, that’s not unusual nor should it be cause for alarm.   Well, I’m a bit alarmed, mofos!  And also a bit tired of talking/thinking about it, so….I’m changing the subject….*oy*

I was at the mall earlier today, not to shop but to *data gather* with my friend.  She has a cool idea for a business venture and we’re going to see where that takes us.  ANYWAY…as I was walking around, I noticed that absolutely everything in the place is on sale, and I also noticed that a couple of stores had some fall merchandise in already!  THIS is something that makes me oh-so-very-happy J  So much so that I want to <squeal> and kick up my heels J J J  Summer’s half over and nobody’s happier about that than I am!  However, we’ll have some scorching hot days to endure before it finally wraps up; this coming weekend is forecasted to be hot, humid and hellish.  I intend to spend it in my basement, reading the August issues of InStyle, Marie Claire and Lucky, which are all featuring fall fashion previews :)  *DROOL*

And that brings us to the end of today's post.  I apologize for not posting as frequently as I should, and I apologize for the uninspired content of this post.  I’m not my usual *shining star* self these days, but I know it’s temporary.  Thanks for all the love and support, kids J


Friday, 17 June 2011

The Bee's Knees and Chocolate, Please...

Happy Friday J 

So this is me, posting on my blog two days in a row, because I’ve been urged by one of my fans(?) to post daily.  Well, I hate to be a big fat bubble-burster, but I really don’t see that happening, mainly because I have no life and therefore not really much to talk about!  But believe me when I say, I appreciate the request J  It tells me that at least one person is enjoying my writing, and that’s what this is all about.

Anyway, this particular *fan* is one of my neighbours, and she has asked me to post my brownie recipe here.  Very briefly, I live on a beautiful street with the best neighbours in the world J  Now, I can’t actually quantify that statement; I haven’t done the field research and I couldn’t PROVE, say, in a court of law, that they’re the Best Neighbours in the World.  But my gut tells me that they are, and my gut, much like Shakira’s hips, don’t lie….

So this is for Sil, lovely crazy lady that she is; my super easy brownie recipe!

Go to Costco and buy a box of Ghiradelli’s Triple Chocolate Brownie Mix.  Follow directions.  And there you have it.

Also, in browsing the news online this morning, I came across this rather interesting piece:

I'm not really sure how to comment on this...?  Maybe…let’s spare a moment to pray for the bees, shall we?

A phrase I never in my life thought I’d be uttering J

Ciao babies.

Thursday, 16 June 2011

Diary of a Bored Housewife

Kind readers, please note - this post is entirely stream-of-consciousness, so I'm not sure where it's going to go but I'll try to make it interesting for you and cathartic for moi :)

So here it is, June 16th already, and I'm not sure where the past couple of weeks have gone.  I know I spent a good portion of it sitting outside with my cats and doing Brain-Teaser puzzles.  What a full life I lead!!

Pardon the sarcasm (it's just my nature) because I really am grateful for all that I have.  I'm out of work but I'm not hungry (as if!), I'm not homeless and I'm perfectly healthy.  Some would say I should be skipping in the street and throwing my beret up in the air, because I have it all!   Well, okay.  I have a LOT, I will concede to that.  But what I want, what I really, really want, is a job that I enjoy and feel fulfilled in.  And apparently, I may as well wish for a pet unicorn, because it just. ain't. happenin' least, not if I stay on the path I've been on, lo these many years.

I search daily for jobs, using the usual resources, and it's not really getting me anywhere.  The greatest problem I have, though, is I'm not excited by any of the prospects I do find.  I'm starting to realize that I need to get outside of my box and figure out a) what it is I really want to do and b) a way to make a living doing it.  Because here's my conundrum - I'm middle-aged and I can make a good living doing what I've done for the past 20 years, which is industrial sales.  IF anyone will hire me, that is!  I mean, I've been on a few interviews and the feedback is always extremely positive, yet...I don't get hired.  So what's the X factor here?  Am I simply at that age where I'm considered "undesirable"?  A friend of mine is convinced that's the case, but I'm not ready to accept that (plus he is, quite frankly, a TOOL).  I still firmly believe in the *wonder that is me*, and am honestly, sincerely surprised when employers decide not to hire me.  Meaning I am either extremely confident or extremely deluded, I suppose.  OR....and here's where it gets the Universe trying to direct me to boldly go where I've never gone before?  I kind of love that idea and I want to have faith in it :)

Anyway, I found this link through a Facebook post, so I'm going to try the simple exercise recommended and report back.  Here's the link:

Wish me luck!  And if any of you have discovered your own life purpose, I'd love to hear about it :)

OK, I'm going to lighten up now and note three great things about being unemployed:
  1. I finally have the time to make a paste of baking soda and vinegar and use it to clean my plastic AND cloth patio furniture.  You can't imagine the satisfaction and enjoyment derived from seeing all that dirty build-up simply slough away, as if by magic.  So rewarding!
  2. I also have plenty of time to sit and consider my next move.  For example, I'm thinking of going for a pedicure today.  Now, I've been thinking about this since yesterday, so at this point, I've invested roughly TEN WAKING HOURS just thinking about it, and I still haven't come to a decision!  How fortunate am I to have the luxury of time-suckage like this?  Very.
  3. I am going to embark on an estimated three-day project, whereby I'll do a full inventory of my beauty products and then catalogue same on an Excel spreadsheet.  I'm sooo not kidding about  Actually, it could easily stretch out to five days, if I allow for the inevitable interruptions such as repeatedly checking the Weather Network, opening and closing the fridge door, or running up and down all the stairs in the house for no apparent reason.  OH, and sitting outside with the cats and doing Brain-Teaser puzzles.

Thursday, 2 June 2011

Season of the Bitch

I’m a little bit cranky (and a little bit rock ‘n’ roll?), because today is the 1st of June, which in my world, is officially the first day of summer.  To me, all of the seasons start on the first day of the month – December 1st starts winter, April 1st starts spring, June 1st starts summer and September 1st starts fall.  Solstices and equinoxes mean nothing to me, renegade that I am.

So yeah, it’s summer in Canada.  Notice I’m not *woo-hoo-ing* or *yay-ing* or expressing any delight or glee in the fact that it’s summer, and that is simply because it’s the one season I truly despise.  Sure, in my tanorexic youth I loved it, but I was an idiot (aren’t all youths, really?).  But these days, as surely as the Griswalds whistle zippity-doo-dah out of their assholes, I mutter *bleepity-bleep-bleep* every day that I wake up, look outside and see the sun blazing AGAIN.  Although, to be fair to the sun, I do have a modicum of affection for it; after all, it sustains life on this planet and that deserves respect.  But the HEAT….ugh, the heat L  That’s the dealbreaker for me.  What’s to enjoy about being hot, sweaty, and for far too many, SMELLY all the livelong day?  *bleepity-bleep*

Even my cats hate summer.  They’re not outdoor cats, so they really look forward to and enjoy the time I allow them to play outside each day.  As soon as I open the door and yell, “Outside???”, I hear a loud *BA-BUMP* from the top floor of my house as they hurl themselves off my bed and come flying down the stairs. Yet in summer, their elation quickly turns to sorrow as they’re faced with a blast of heat in their furry faces, and their favourite spots on the lawn are too hot to walk on, let alone loll in.  So they slowly saunter over to my neighbour’s concrete, shady porch and flop themselves down and stare at me.  They remind me of lions on the Serengeti, eyeing their prey and knowing they need to kill it, but are so parched and feverish that starvation seems like a less painful option than actually attempting to move about in the boiling heat.  *bleep*

I read a survey last year that claimed 48% percent of Canadians declare summer to be their favourite season.  Hmmm.  Interesting. I would have guessed at least 75%, based on the sheer number of jubilant humans I am forced to endure every time it’s hot and sunny outside.  So what’s happening, I suspect, is that there are more summer-haters out there than will openly admit to it.  After all, it is a controversial stance to take, especially here in Canada where so many claim to hate winter (beautiful, clear, crisp, cool I yearn  for thee!).  Well, I’m not afraid to say it and I’m not afraid of annoying the summer-lovers (some are members of my own family, bless their cray-cray little hearts).  Perhaps by openly expressing my hatred of this most unpleasant of seasons I will encourage the closet summer-haters to come out and be bitchy with me!  It would be cold comfort (ha!) but better than none at all.  In the meantime, I bitch alone. *BLEEP*