Ten Stupid Things

A best-selling book by Dr. Laura Schlessinger (yes, the Dr. Laura you hear on the radio), "The Ten Stupid Things That Women Do to Mess up Their Lives" is one of Oprah's favourites and something that you wish you could pass on to all your girlfriends. It's sort of like a survival manual to being a woman, albeit in hindsight, and I know that no matter how much you don't want to admit it, every woman reading my blog has commited at least one of these stupid things that inevitably fucked up their life in some way, shape or form.

Chapter One: Stupid Attachment

These women have no goals or dreams except in relation to a sympathetic man with a hero complex.. She feels she is nothing without him, who becomes her only reason for living. Both feed off each other’s fears of rejection, so she whines and demands while he wises up eventually and dumps her.

Too many of us do this (I plead guilty) because it is easy to do. You can easily lose track of yourself and mistake attachment and comfort for other things – you forget who YOU are when you are with him. Not good at all.

Chapter Two: Stupid Courtship

This mistake occurs because women are so desperate for a man that they don’t care what kind of loser he is. They dive in despite the telltale signs. Desperation breeds from not developing interests and goals for yourself, so the “female escape route,” aka men, is taken as a socially acceptable means of avoiding becoming an individual through attachment.

I know a person who hasn’t been single for more than a few weeks in the 10 years I have known her. She doesn’t know herself, and has admitted this, but is too afraid to find out.

Chapter Three: Stupid Devotion

A 42-year old woman listener lists the reasons why she’s still devoted to an ass of a husband: ”Number one, I don’t have to change. Number two, I don’t lose what I like in the companionship and security aspects. Number three, it would be uncomfortable making a transition to being alone or with anyone else. And number four, I guess, I would take it personally…his negative perception of me must be right.?

How many times have you heard this from women, especially a friend or two of yours in which you wish she would just open up her eyes and see…and yet sometimes, like this woman, they do see and choose “ignorance is bliss.” Very sad, but very common.

Chapter Four: Stupid Passion

These women confuse feelings of passion for the presence of mature love. They are carried away with the high of it, have sex too soon, give up their career dreams and get married out of desperation and not love. Divorce results usually.

Chapter Five: Stupid Cohabitation or “The Ultimate Female Self-Delusion”

Cohabitation (living with your boyfriend hoping that it will lead to marriage) is the "ultimate in female self-delusion," Mrs. Schlessinger says, "Dating -- not living in -- is supposed to be about learning and discerning." Cohabitation involves "no public commitment, no pledge for the future, no official pronouncement of love and responsibility. Theirs is essentially a private arrangement based on an emotional bond. The 'commitment' of living together is simply a month-to-month rental agreement. "As long as you behave yourself and keep me happy, I'll stick around."

No wonder the subchapters within this section are titled like “Cohabitation as a Lease with an option to buy?” “When hope can hurt you” and “Living in = Giving in.” But with stats like these – a Columbia University study cited in New Woman magazine found that "only 26% of women surveyed and a scant 19% of the men married the person with whom they were cohabiting”- it’s easy to see what Dr. Laura is getting at.

Chapter Six: Stupid Expectations

Schlessinger starts out talking about a couple who were her clients. At first Maureen needed help with her nervous, crying baby, but Dr. Laura suggested that her husband Kenny join them (the baby stayed with a sitter after the first nerve-wracking session) and she discovered their very different expectations of marriage caused by unresolved pain from their parents. Spouses of similar ilk cannot heal the wounds made by parents.

Women also fail to realize that relationships are hard work. So many women want to get married, or get married, or go into relationships, thinking that it's going to be hearts a fluttering all the time. SO NOT TRUE.

One of my favourite quotes is from a Maroon 5 song:

"It's not always rainbows and butterflies but compromise that moves us along..."

A lot of women (and yes men) think relationships should be easy - and they usually are - to an extent. Too many of us give up when the going gets tough, not bothering to work through the problems. No wonder the divorce rate is so high. People give up at the first hurdle and walk away. No one said a relationship - or marriage - for that matter was a piece of cake. It's a lot of work, even for the best of relationships. Women get unrealistic expectations from movies, novels, a lucky friend.

Chapter Seven: Stupid Conception – “There are no accidents, usually”

Just because a man says he loves you that does not no how mean that he wants a child with you or even marriage. Some women believe the fairy tale that she’s found Prince Charming just because “he said he loved me!” or maybe she’s trying to force marriage.

I can not tell you how many people I have known, met, heard of who do the whole baby before marriage thing JUST to ensure the marriage. It’s more common then you think – look around at the women who have kids but aren’t married. A good majority of them would LOVE to be married to the father, he just isn’t falling for the trick. Sure, there are women who don’t want marriage, or wants a child and doesn’t care so much for the father/mother relationship – but that is not usually the case.

Chapter Eight: Stupid Subjugation

An example from Dr. Laura’s show: "I’ve never been able to forget a case dating from when I first opened my counseling practice. The woman was a caller in her late twenties who had a problem with her boyfriend. He liked her well enough, but didn’t want her two little kids around at all. In fact, he was pressuring her to give them away. Her question, believe it or not, was “What should I do?”Naturally, she didn’t want to give up her kids, but she didnt want to give up the guy even more. How freaking crazy is that?

Chapter Nine: Stupid Helplessness

Instead of getting angry when guys treat them with disrespect, these women wonder if they should and if the guy gives a decent excuse for it, she accepts it willingly, even though she’s unhappy and lacking a sense of validation.

Chapter Ten: Stupid Forgiving

If you’ve ever caught yourself or heard a woman saying, “I know he’s adulterous, addicted, controlling, insensitive, violent, or fill in blank, but other than that, he’s great” then you have witnessed stupid forgiving because the speaker is attached, helpless, subjugated or deluded.

Of course we have all been there, but hopefully we learn as we get older and go through relationships, figuring out what we deserve and demanding it from those we love.


All right, so what do you think? Do you agree with all ten things? I know I sure do. Is there anything else you would add? (Personally I think there should have been a chapter on emotional spending, cuz, well, credit card debt can fuck up your life. Why do you think there are so many lazy, greedy and undisciplined bloggers out there asking for handouts from people on the net to pay for THEIR debt?)

Fiesta Friday

That's the name of the "Mexican themed" party we are having at work today.

It's in honour of two new employees, though really, my boss C is just looking for an excuse to get her drink on. I got a call at 4PM yesterday.

"Hey, so I'm gonna have a welcome party tomorrow," says C.

"Sounds good."

"Since you are the writer, do you mind writing an email to the staff and letting them know. Wait! What should the theme be? It's Friday!"

"Ummm, Fiesta Friday?" I suggested as a joke. I am all about alliteration.

"Perfect! We could make margaritas!"

"And drink Corona. With lime!"

"And eat chips and salsa!"

And so I went to off to compose an email to the staff letting them know that we will be doing tequila shots in the last hour of the work day. I signed my email with a picture of The Three Amigos.

Not a bad way to start the weekend, if I do say so myself. Should be followed by drinks downtown with co-workers too (don;t worry, we have taxi vouchers in case anyone wants to get shittered - I know one French Canadian co-worker has her eye on them). And then later tonight, a night out with the "amazing ladies..."

Oh, that's right. I didn't blog about last weekend with the "amazing ladies." Well, I won't go into details, but I will leave you with some photos in which you can create your own conclusions and write your own story of what happened.

No really. I dare you.

And BTW, the lucky guy in the pics is a fellow blogger I recently met, whom you can read about on his blog here. Only caveat: his blog doesn't have sexy pictures of crazy girls, so you will probably just end up coming back to this post again ;)

Happy Weekend!

PS - If anyone wants to see me as a ten-year old (not too different from the pics above - erm, except for the boobs) check out my other - and finally updated - blog.

A Monumental Evening

Last night was one of those nights in which you get some much jam-packed goodness out of it, you can't believe it's a Monday.

Or you can, when you wake up on Tuesday morning after three hours of sleep and go into work with a hangover.

Oh, but it was worth it.

First off, I got home from work to discover my three essays had arrived.

Yup, the ones that I wrote last Monday and Tuesday night, a mad dash scramble about historical crap which I learned about the day of. Or actually, during the essay.

The first essay (which was actually the last one I worked on), I got 65% on. According to Ross, this is amazing because the teacher's comments on the essay state that I didn't even answer the question. Yet, I still got 65%.

The second essay, I got 87%.

And the third essay, I got 90%.

90% on a history essay (The French Revolution was a Victory for the Aristocracy: Discuss) in which I wrote in two hours on material I read at the same time I was writing it.

See, why do things ahead of time if you can make zero effort and procrastionation work for you? This only strengthens my belief in procrastination. Screw it God, if you don't want me to keep doing it, then why keep rewarding me?

So that was nice. A nice start to an awesome evening: Ross and I were off to see Damien Rice.

Last week I checked his website to see if by chance he was coming to Vancouver and low and behold, he was. In a week! I snapped up a pair of tickets and started counting the days till I could hear a live version of "Blower's Daughter."

We had a few beers before the concert (dieting be damed - OK, it was Coors Light. And I HAD gotten up at 7 that morning to put in a jog before work, if you can believe it) so we were nicely toasted by the time we got to the theatre. Then we settled into our seats and got ready for some pretty and depressing music.

And this is where Damien surprised. He rocked our socks off. Yes, there were a few sweet ballads - including "Amie" as part of the encore, performed by only Damien and his guitar, no mic...brilliant. And a few tumoltous piano songs ("accidental babies"). But the majority his songs he totally rocked complete with flashing lights, driving guitar and angst-filled wailing.

Up there with Coldplay, Damien was one of the best concerts ever. He was dead-on, one of those artists who sounded exactly like he is on the album albeit better because being live it had that extra kick.

However, this wasn't just any other ordinary concert. There was a reason why I was able to get tickets to this show - the hockey game was on, thus the whole city was either at the game, or were watching it at a bar.

At GM Place, the Vancouver Canucks were in game 7 against the Dallas Stars - a home game. I totally thought the Canucks were going to lose as they were losing by the time we got to the theatre and well, I always say "expect the worst." But during the concert, you couldn't help but notice the glow from people's phones - they werent taking pictures of Damien, but checking the scores of the game.

Then slowly, one person would do a silent cheer. They would wave the score with their fingers and mouth "we won" to the next person. Pretty soon the audience was abuzz and buy the time the song ended, people started hooting and hollering and cheering. While I am sure some of it was for Damien, it was also for the Canucks clinching the 1st round of the playoffs. Um, or something like that.

During a break Damien commented on how the venue wasn't nearly as full and that the front few rows were empty. Someone yelled out "That's because everyone is at the hockey game"
"Yeah," said Damien, "and how are the Canucks doing?"

"We won!" someone cried out and there was cheering for about 2 minutes.

"Well, lucky for you people, the people who are missing this because they are at the game - well, you can take their seats."

There was suddenly a mad dash as people in the orchestra were making a mad dash to the front. I'm sure the ushers were really happy with the seat-switching, but hey, it's Damien's concert, if he wants us to have better seats then we are going to take him on it.

He was also a total performer - someone yelled out the song "Rootless Tree" and Damien asked, "Do you want me to play it on guitar or piano?" What a charmer that Irish man is - totally obliged our hockey crazed crowd AND took a random request.

But back to the hockey. The concert let out at 10ish and even though it had been over an hour since they won, the streets were a riot. Ross and I plunked ourselves down on the corner of Robson and Homer (Robson being "the street" of downtown) on a bar patio and watched, amazed, at the jubilent celebrations.



Cars drove past, waving canucks flags, people were honking non-stop - imagine horns blaring from hundreds of cars for hours and hours. Random people were hugging on the street, people were shouting, cheering, dancing in the streets. 500 people overtook the traffic at the corner of Robson and Burrard. It was nuts and made me quite proud to be Canadian. I had no clue we got so worked up over hockey, and even though I am not a fan myself, it was absolutely infectuous.

And we aren't even in the finals yet. Good Lord, imagine if we won*?

Finally, at 2 AM Ross and I stumbled back to my place where I managed to cap off the evening with an earth-shattering event.

For the first time in 15 months of dating...."it" happened.

That's right.

I farted.

Yes, I have been the girlfriend who has never broke wind in front of her boyfriend, much to his dismay (because apparently that's unatural). That's not to say I don't cuz I am quite a stinky girl, but only alone. However, last night out it came. Luckily, I was on the other side of the room.

The look on Ross's face was pure shock.

"What was that?"

He didn't even believe it when I told him. I think he was actually happy it happened, if not amazed, even though it meant my untarnished image (aside from the constant burping) is gone forever. One fart and there goes my 15 months of ladylike restraint.



BTW - If you don't know Damien, but like lyrical, haunting music ala David Grey, Coldplay, etc. please go download Damien Rice's "Blower's Daughter."

And there have been interesting (re: sucky) developments at my work - I'll fill you in later this week.

*I know what happens when we lose. We lost the cup in the final game in 1994 and we had the cities biggest riot. Angry hockey fans practically burnt downtown to the ground.

Addendum: Because no one seems to know who Damien Rice is (seriously, I've had like ten people ask) I am going to post what I think is his best song and video - The Blower's Daughter, from Closer.

Journalism Girls Gone Wild

There are two things going on tonight which at first seem unrelated but in the end might end up being one in the same.

1) I am having a night out with some of the J-Girls (drunken classmates from university whom I have not partied with since graduation last year). Remember this photo album?

Drunk College Girls

Yes, those girls.



2) The Girls Gone Wild film crew is in town this weekend and will be hitting the clubs of Vancouver.


Coincidence? I think not.


BTW - Not that I am lifting my shirt up for anyone but I am going to be bringing my camera and prentending to be part of the film crew. Just doing my part for my loyal male readers out there ;)

On the bandwagon, again

First things first.

I finally gave into Facebook.

Over the last wee while, I had been getting friend requests from various people. I ignored them, dutifully.

That is, until I read an article in the Globe and Mail, about how Facebook isn't just for the youngins. So then I figured, hell if these journalists are on Facebook, perhaps I should be too.

I mean, it's not MySpace - which, sorry, I will never join....probably because I have a blog in which to pimp myself out on and that takes up enough of my time - and now that time will become even more precious as Facebook sucks.you.in.

Seriously, last night, the hours just flew by, especially when I discovered the whole checking out people you went to high school with. Who was still hot? Who got fat? Who had kids? Who looks the same? Etc...

And then this mornings, the reprocussions of Facebook settled in.

Apparently this thing sends an email to EVERYONE in your email accounts. That's a lot of people.

Now people I haven't talked to in years are popping up, psycho ex-boyfriends whom I thought I would never hear from again (and with good reason), people I worked with once upon a time.

It's nuts.

And it's now another thing to distract me from work. Not that I need it, but man do I love being distracted from things I should be doing.


**********


Voila!


Below is the infamous picture of my leap in Kakadu National Park, Australia, in 2001.



If you want the recap, listen to my BlogTalkRadio interview (link on the previous post). Otherwise, know that I will be posting the full-version of this story on this blog or my travel one sometime soon. And know that for someone with a fear of heights, leaping over a hundred foot deep chasm was one of the scariest things I have ever done!

Ever faced your fears?

Little known love tests

It has come to my attention that there are at least three succinct ways of telling how much a man loves and/or adores you.

1) He buys you Tampons/Pads

This is usually the first indicator in a relationship of how comfortable you are around each other. Maybe in the third month or so, this situation will come up, and if he is willing to go and purchase these items with little or no hesitation, you know you have a keeper.

That said, I don't know many men who have refused to do this...they probably don't like it (although, come on, it's obviously not for THEM) but will still quietly do this potentially embarrassing favour.

2) He buys you Yeast-infection Medicine.

Depending on how long you are together, this is also one of those things that will come up sooner or later. If he is willing to run to the drugstore to pick up a tube of Monistat 7, Douche-related items or anything else that would make you yourself get red-faced over, then it's a sign that this guy is in love with you. And you would hope it would be love, because once you get on the topic of yeast infections, I think all "romantic and mysterious" ideas about you will be tossed out the window.

It's a bonus too, if you don't actually ask him to do this but he offers.

3) He buys you Hemmroid medication.

This is a tricky one because unlike the first two, this medication could be for him. It gets even more tricky when he has to pick up an embarrassingly named brand (Anusol, anyone?) and even more embarrassing when he might have to ask the pharmacist questions.

"It's, uh, for my girlfriend"

"Sure it is"

I think if you find a man who will willingly - and without complaints - do any of the above (and especially all three) you have a real keeper. This man not only adores and loves you but will stick by you through all of life's embarrassing problems. Cause, honestly, what could be mortifying than discussing "hemroids" with a loved one?

What are your "Little Love Tests?" Surviving a night of dual food-poisoning (ala Charlotte and Harry in SATC)? Willingly subjecting himself to an evening of bonding with your hard-nosed father (ala Ross and Mr. Green in Friends)? Or even allowing himself to be dragged to a showing of The Vagina Monologues?


****
Thanks to all who tuned into BlogTalkRadio and caught my interview with Wombat and Eileen. If you missed it, click here to have a listen. I haven't done this yet though because I can't stand to hear my own voice but I encourage you all to.

Though for the record, I do have some wonderbras (VS makes the best) but I only wear them on "special" occasions and apparently I made up the answer "Stirrups" because I genuinely thought that's what he was asking me. Stirrups or Suspenders? Hell, anything but suspenders.
Unless ,Wombat, you meant "Stay-up" stockings or garter belts (suspenders) and then my answer would have been...hell, that's a tough choice. I'm still gonna go with stirrups.

And I only had one Caeser (the drink).

And please, Kamloops people, refrain from sending me hate mail.

And I will post my pic of my now infamous leap tomorrow.