All Apologies

This has been one CRAZY MO-FO week in more ways than one. I won't go into the details because I like to hold off on them for awhile (as some of you know) and I simply have not had the time to blog. Not because I am so called "happy" but because I am so called "stressed" to the maximum. Rest assured I will fill you in on my hell week starting next Tuesday but until then I am going to be a busy little bee.

Plus it is the Canada Day long weekend and I am getting shit-faced on our boat. With Josh, my dad and the Object of My Affection (whom I am now dubbing Rockstar just because he is - kinda). Me and three boys (Ok, one boy, one man and my dad!) Oh, could it possible get any better?

Yes it can:



See you after the weekend!

Oh the joys of ...

I just had a most wonderful weekend which consisted of drunken antics at a rock concert, 3 AM Denny's, my childhood best friend's Staggette party (my first one ever)...

...and much-needed and profuse amounts of giddy, high-schoolesque making out. Sigh. Honestly, a lot can be said for some good old-fashioned action. None of this "let's jump down each other's pants right away" business, but just slighty innocent tonsil hockey on the side of a busy downtown street - or outside of Denny's. It's a forgotten art, I tells ya!

I would love to elaborate more (though you are probably happy I'm not because I would only make you feel disgusted) but I am afraid I am under the influence of being in a happy bliss bubble, so I will just leave you with a post about Facebook that I contributed to Peter deWolfe's blog Burt Reynolds Mustache on Friday. Enjoy!

Flattery will get you everywhere

I've never been one to accept compliments very well - but there are some that absolutely make my day. Yes, I often hear "you're beautiful" or "you're pretty," which of course is very nice to hear but in actuality it makes me really uncomfortable. Mainly because I don't believe it myself so I think these people are just humouring me. Or just being very unoriginal (but by all means, that should not stop you from saying anything!)

But to hear I am "smart" or a "great writer," well, that really puts a smile on my face. And today, I received - to me anyways - the best compliment of them all. I was beaming...like this picture of me in my elevator...with....people:




The object of my recent affection, whom I have been trying to make laugh ever since I met him because he happens to have the most wonderful smile ever, told me today that "You make me laugh so much - in all honesty, I don't think I have ever met a funnier girl."

Success! Of course, most of you are probably scratching your heads and thinking "she's funny?" But, meh, you oughta meet me. Actually, don't - I'll just disappoint you.

Of course, this compliment is coming from a guy whom I think is just the wittiest guy that I have ever met, so it really means a lot. Sigh...there I go, beaming again.

So, what is a great compliment to you? When people say you are a good person? A great singer? A sexy beast? Fill me in...

BTW - this is Josh and I at my recent party - despite what it looks like, he is not the object of my affection. Well, not in that way...

Do opposites attract...or subtract?

We’ve all heard the saying “opposites attract” but how many of us actually believe it to be the truth?

Personally, I tend to think that the opposite of opposites attract….whatever that may be. I tend to gravitate to people who are like me, who laugh at the same things I laugh at and like the same things I like.

But perhaps this isn’t what the saying means. What, really, is opposite? Is it someone whose personality is very unlike yours? Or is it someone whose interests and appearance stray from your own? For example...take Lady and the Tramp (see above, left)...the two dogs couldn't be more opposite but one spaghetti meal later and BLAM! Instant love.

The other day I was talking to a friend from work about meeting people you used to go to elementary school with. I pointed out that the novelty quickly wears out when you realize you have nothing in common with them. To that, he said, “Well what’s the fun in that? I don’t want to meet people that I am like. I want to meet people that I am Unlike. Like lion tamers…” and so on.

So when they say, opposites attract, what kind of opposite are we talking about here? And is there any truth in the matter? Or is it more of opposites attracting and then not lasting?

For example, take someone like me. I am fairly quiet (I think), I dress up quite a bit (and rarely dress down though I have my days) and my taste in music is quite particular…though I love classic rock, hard rock (of today) isn’t quite up my alley (the 90’s though, was a different story…I recently acquired Sirius Satellite radio and by far my favourite channel is the 90’s Alternative and Grunge Channel. Pure bliss!). So, for someone like me to go out with a guy who is in a rock band (let’s say, guitarist), would be quite weird, right? Wouldn’t a better match for this person be an alterna-girl with two-tone hair, cargo pants and trainers?

Or would this possibly work because perhaps we have the same sense of humour and love all the same movies and shows (and the ability to quote them endlessly and never get tired of it)? OR do you need more than that? How much do you need in common to make something work? Does it matter at all?

Looking back, everyone I have gone out with had many differences as well as similarities. In fact, my last relationship ended because we were “too different.” Apparently, this takes some people over a year to figure out…and apparently, you can think you are the same as someone, all the while they are actually thinking the opposite. And thus apparently, being “different” can be seen as a bad thing to some.

That said, the fact there were some differences opened me up to whole bunch of new experiences and things. My high school boyfriends introduced me to new music (Bad Religion, Nine Inch Nails), while my last boyfriend introduced me to football (AKA soccer), which I have actually grown to love and am SO excited to go to the Vancouver Whitecaps VS LA Galaxy game in October (HELLO DAVID BECKHAM!) and Arrested Development (which ironically, has led me to “bond” with others who like the show and thus starting a whole new set of things in “common”).

So what do you think? Is it best to pair up with people who are like you? Do opposites really attract – and do they last? What really matters in the end?

Age aint nothing but a number

First, an update on yours truly…
My new roomie: I am having a blast with Josh – he truly is the most fun, level-headed 18-year old who has ever graced me with their presence. It will be sad when he eventually goes – not only will I lose my dancing in my underwear partner but I will lose someone I can drag out to the movies and to dinner every night. He’s like a boyfriend in training that listens to me talk about boys, lets me subject him to MST3K, BBC’s The Office (season one, thus far), Extras and Arrested Development (still, season one, thus far) AND does the dishes while I am at work.

My job: Crazy good. I’m bonding with the receptionist L again (who is truly lovely), getting kudos from the execs (B patted me on the back the other day and told me I was doing a good job), writing for the newsletter (it felt so good to be writing articles again, and having complete creative control over the thing) and sharing with other employees on Facebook – including my boss. Plus one of the execs is back from her honeymoon and she is putting me more in charge of different avenues – one of which include spreading my expertise to crafting Keynote presentations. And she also just added to Facebook as we speak. Good Lord! Anyhoo, we had a photo shoot too and soon my picture will be up on the company website.

On the down side (cuz there always is one), the ex-office manager who was moved/promoted to a different position, has been micro-managing me. My own boss is aware of this and is pissed about it because it in her words, “I don’t f*%%#^&* micro manage you, who the F%#$$ is she to do that to you?” Apparently it’s not just me though, she treats L like her bitch, giving her a million things to do a day that she could easily do herself. It got so bad that L has been bursting in tears at work and had to write the girl a letter – which did not go down too favourably. There is some bad blood now-which I, thankfully, am not involved with. Still, I’m a bit wary. I appreciate that the ex-office manager wants me to succeed (as she says in her frequent and LONG emails to which state everything that I should be doing in my job), but I do not appreciate that she also sends these emails to my boss, as if to say “if Lusty isn’t doing this stuff then she’s not doing her job.” Luckily, my boss doesn’t appreciate the emails either.

Life in general: Is fabulous FINALLY – and I’m not exaggerating or saying it for the hell of it. Maybe it’s the Bible, maybe it’s reuniting with old friends, maybe it’s just about time, but I’m finally at the point in my life where I am waking up in the morning with the most excellent smile on my face. I’ve been in the most buoyant, joyous state, which I first thought was a good mood but now I realize it is just me. And I love me! The darkness has finally past and June has-so far-turned out to be s’wonderful and s’marvelous. Yes, there have been a few moments of pain but they never linger, never last and before you know it I’ve forgotten about it. It just seems like an old, vaguely remembered life that I have closed the door on and now I’m just so excited for the here, the now and what lies ahead. My heart is healed, I feel complete and I am moving on. Things always work out for the best and this is no exception.

Anyway, my topic for today’s post is about AGE.

I have always thought that I would never go out with someone that was my own age or younger. This is usually because of the adage that girls mature faster than boys, as well as the fact that everything is still inexplicably linked to high school. It compartmentalized ages into neat groups and you were usually chastised for stepping out of them (case in point: my first boyfriend was 16 and I was 14…and I thought I was soooo cool. However, if a girl in grade 11 went out with a guy in grade 9…well that would be so “Harold and Maude”).

And even in our adult years, it is still somewhat of a novelty when a woman goes out with a younger man. While the reverse is accepted and actually encouraged, the woman usually gets the label of “cougar” (see Demi Moore, Cameron Diaz etc).

Again, I guess it’s because the assumption is that older men are more secure, successful and mature while younger men are just boys. Yet, there are 28-year olds who live like they are in a college dorm. There are 30-year olds who think their idea of an investment is a $10,000 television and still work at their high school job. And I know women who will only date 40-year olds, lulled into a false security of “maturity” when they are plainly ignoring the fact that there is a reason a 40-year old man is with a 25-year old girl.

So, is it unfair to exclude a guy just because he is younger? Does 16 months make that much of a difference? What if the guy is amazing, with a wise, sweet soul, feels warmly electric when he touches you and makes you laugh like no one else can? What if he not usually your type – do opposites attract (AAHH, ignore that question, that’s for a future post).

Or does age really matter in the end…I know the heart doesn’t know age, but our minds and logic do. Are younger guys just for “fun” or are they a risk worth gambling on? Your thoughts – Women, would you and have you dated a younger man? What happened? Men, have you dated an older woman? Pros and cons?

Disclaimer: before anyone jumps on their horse about this, I would like to clarify that I am NOT talking about Josh (he does read my blog, btw, and says hi) because, good heavens, 8 years is a big difference…I’m just talking about a few years here, and, also, I am not necessarily talking about anyone specific. I am just curious, ‘tis all…

Tall, dark and handsome? No thanks...

I would like you all to note that I actually wrote this post about a month ago. There are some corrections to be made, mainly the facts that at the time I wrote this, I really wasn’t ready to be in a relationship and the guy actually gave me an underlying creeps. Which is probably why I wasn’t attracted to him. Upon our second encounter, my opinion was only solidified. The guy really isn’t all THAT good –looking, combined with the creeps and a general feeling on wariness are all perfect reasons why I wasn’t attracted to him. But I thought the whole point about the scenario was still valid so I decided to still post it below…

What equals attraction? I know this topic has been all over the blog world, with people such as Rachel and Indy putting their two cents in. I have given my two cents already. I stick by it:

First of all, it comes down to chemistry, a spark between people – usually brought on by several characteristics: similar sense of humour (very important), kindness, loyalty, intelligence, a passion for life, ambition and thoughtfulness. This is my list mind you and everyone has a different one. And I still stick by my vote that MONEY is not important to me in the least. Yes, says Indy, this is probably because I have money. But so what? It just doesn’t matter to me – ambition does, but that is not ruled by the all-mighty dollar. I want a man to have goals for himself and his life, to want to strive to get there – whether these goals mean selling his paintings on the street or what have you.

Looks are important – this is always stressed by everyone. But what about them? ATTRACTION is important, not looks. I can be attracted to the strangest people (Conan O’Brian, or Jack Black anyone?) that are not conventionally good-looking just because something else they possess pulls me towards them (mainly humour, fun, good-spirit etc).

So, thankfully, the homeliest guy can be found attractive to me if there are other factors that surpass that and add up to the thing called “chemistry.”

But can the most handsome guy be found bland if the chemistry lacks?

Or maybe, just being TOO attractive can render someone unattractive.

I met a friend of a friend for drinks the other day – while I knew what he looked like and had been talking to him for a while, I was SHOCKED to meet him face to face.

He was tall – 6’4”, in a snazzy pinstripe suit and tie, shiny aviator glasses, nicely browned from recent days in the Indonesian sun. Oh and he looked like a BETTER looking version of James Franco. A 6’4” James Franco look alike.

My first thought, “I think I’ve seen this guy on the cover of GQ” followed by “he is WAY too good-looking to be seen with me.”

Maybe I am just easily impressed – a suit and tie does do it for me everytime (love that old-fashioned glamour), I suppose because I very rarely see guys my age wearing one (GQ was 30 and had to wear one for work). I also notice that I rarely see any guy that I would consider “hot” – maybe because attraction for me always happens after I get to know them. So when I see someone who would – by Hollywood standards – be considered “gorgeous” - it’s a bit of a novelty.

As we walked down the street to the Freehouse bar overlooking English Bay, I couldn’t help but feel like I was with a celebrity. This guy had every woman on the street turning heads. Suddenly I felt like laughing my ass off – I felt like the dumpy female with the hot guy and imagined all the women going “how did someone like her get someone like him?”

It was a turn-off, actually. I want to make clear to you all that this was NOT a date of any sort, this ridiculously good-looking dude was in fact a friend. And that could be why- even though I and everyone else on the street could plainly see he was extremely attractive – I was just not “attracted” to him. I didn’t want to see him as anything more.

As we sat down and talked for hours, I did note that there were things that would come into my whole list of things that I find attractive – we did have a similar sense of humour, especially when it came to quoting The Simpsons and Caddyshack. We both loved Classic Rock and were going to the Police concert at the end of the month. We both paid our dues at Vancover Film School.

But alas, there just wasn’t a spark. Which was fine with me because I honestly did not want there to be one. I just want to make friends, meet new people and have some fun.

It just struck me as kind of odd though, that the main excuse I was using for why I didn’t “like” this guy was because he was too good-looking. But it’s true. Because being ”really, really ridiculously good looking” means a lot of bad things in my books (Blue Steel is the least of these).

Maybe I am unfairly putting GQ guy into a box but in my opinion and experience, really good-looking guys are unfaithful. They cheat. They can’t be monogamous. They have no sense of loyalty. They are conceited. Vain. Shallow. Arrogant. Uncaring. Unkind. Flaky. Bad in bed (according to Samantha from SATC because “they never had to be good”). Have roving eyes. Expect perfection from those with them. They are fake. They have no faith. You can never trust them. They are good liars. They induce insecurity.

GQ was also actually an actor, looking to get into modeling. An actor? No thanks. Again, I am stereotyping but usually, actors aren’t the smartest cookies. Their ambition and passion (when present) I admire but….

And then I think, who is the shallow one here? Here is a guy that most girls would be interested in for shallow reasons, and then I find I am not because he’s not good enough for me…in other ways. Can shallowness just be about appearances or does it extend to someone not being smart enough, funny enough, kind enough – or are all these factors just a matter of what floats your boat?

Can you ever be too good-looking (males and females)? Is it too much of a good thing? Do really attractive people sometimes face the same problems as really unattractive people? Can something that is so highly praised in this shallow society we live in, actually work against you? Or is it just me – I need more than just a pretty face…and I don’t care if that makes me shallow or not.

Just some nonsensical nonsense

To copy the great old Indy (erm, I meant old in the wise sense…not in the physical sense…but sense you’ve been holding out on us via a picture –although I have seen a picture of you once mwahahaha – you really could be like 80-years old) anyway, where was I? Oh yes, I do not lack of things to blog about, in fact I have many interesting, hopeful and joyous things – for example, I have discovered, through certain avenues, that a great deal of joy has returned to my life...well, that or my intake of Matcha Tea lattes have increased ten-fold and thus I have spent my days bouncing around like a kid on a pogo stick and shouting friendly obscenities at the world. I have NOT had a Matcha Tea latte today, for your information, which might explain why this blog is making little to no sense whatsoever. But I have had a few chocolate covered espresso beans…or more than a few.

But I digress….to what, I am not so sure. OH YES! About Indy, well it’s not about Indy but a certain thing he does on his blog which addresses questions some people have googled which have then lead them to his blog. I heart Sitemeter for just this purpose.

*One will always stick out in my mind: “My boyfriend likes to wear my garter belts”

Now, I am not sure how they got turned to my blog since this has never happened…not my knowledge at any rate. I think I would have noticed if I had showed up at a boyfriend’s house and he was resembling Dr. Frankenfurter. Or perhaps just the whole act of wearing one’s bra on their head might through you off.

So to this person, I say, “Good for you for wearing garter belts. It is a lost art (which I have talked about on Blogtalkradio with the once infamous Wombat), and one of which I am not fully embracing at the moment since summer is on its way and bare legs take precedence. BUT when your boyfriend likes to wear them, that may be a problem. Look, I am all for the kinky stuff but even I draw the line at your bf wearing your underwear – garter belts are just a bit too far. But to each his own….or your own, as it were.”

“There is always that one that have your heart”

This made me sad to read…mainly because the grammar is really picking at my brain. To them I say, “I had hope the person that have your heart ain’t a grammar liking type of people therefore you aint never got it back.”

“A quiz to find out if you have an overbite”

This one freaked me out, mainly because I had just had a discussion with someone over overbites and how practically everyone has one. He argued that I did, I pointed out that so did he and then came to the conclusion that how on earth can you eat properly if your front teeth line up on top of each other? Aside from that though, I don’t have the words "overbite" on my blog anywhere so I have no clue how they get directed to my blog but anyway. To this person I say, “You don’t need a quiz. You have one. Unless you look down and all you can see if your lower teeth. Then you probably have an overbite. Or are missing half your face.”

“Smile, it makes people wonder what you are thinking”

Yeah. After they label as you as an escaped mental patient. Who doesn’t wonder what mental people think?

And last but not least, “I want to be successful but I am not getting anywhere.”

Amen. Please, if you have found some tidbit of advice somewhere on my blog, do let me know. Though, I really hope it doesn’t involve muffins in any way, shape or form.


I was going to end this blog here but then I decided that I should probably fill you all in on the scenario with the 18-year old boy because some people have the Mrs. Robinson theme ringing in their ears and I would really like to put a stop to it (PS if the ringing doesn’t go away, you may have tinnitus).

My friend Kelly’s brother is staying with me for a few weeks. He is 18, his name is Josh and he is from New Zealand. Now, I know what you all are thinking so SHAME ON YOU, YOU PERVERTS! Josh, as I remember him, was a tall, gangly, goofy, pimply-faced 15-year old who loved Broadway showtunes. So get your heads out of the gutter…I mean, I was already with Kelly’s older brother, what kinda of girl do you take me for? I’m not gonna tag team her whole family.

Anyhoo, yes the lad will be staying with me in my tiny, 430 sq, foot apartment starting Friday night. He’s on a one-year working visa and just needs a place to crash until he gets a job and a place of his own. Now, I realize it may take a while for him to do so but I also know that Josh is as responsible and trustworthy as a guy can get so I have no doubts that he will accomplish everything he is setting out to do. Besides, he will probably want to be out of my apartment pretty fast after he finds out I like to blast Faithless and Lily Allen at 6:30 AM and dance around in my underwear.



Reminder: Remember to put on pants.

The Police Were Arresting

Or so that would be the headline if I was back in Journalism school, crafting out one cheesy headline after another.

The Police kicked off their reunion tour last Monday in lil ol' Vancouver at GM Place. I was fortunate enough to snap up tickets way back when (I couldn't tell you when), only because they added a second show. Stupid me though, landed two tickets together and I gave them up because I didn't like the seating. After that, I was never able to get a pair again (a similar thing happened with Justin Timberlake concert - that and the fact that ticketmaster.com's verification words screwed me up for about two minutes - seriously, why do they start out hard and then get easier? Shouldn't it be the opposite?).

Anyhoo, I had the two tickets which were on opposite sides of the stadium and over the course of the last few months I was trying to sell them. No such luck (the fools). Someone even suggested I give them to charity - and I kinda did. I gave the nosebleed one to fellow blogger Kass and saved the more expensive one for myself (hey, I'm already pretty generous!).

Kass and I before the concert, thinking about Sting's hot peice of ass

Best decision ever (and I am sure Kass can to attest to that). The Police were utterly amazing. That concert was up there with Damien Rice...and Coldplay...and The Who...man, I have seen a lot of good concerts!

Nonetheless, it was fucking awesome (pardon my French). I found I knew all the lyrics, sang my heart out to every song and almost cried at some point (I'm afraid I'm very emotional and yes, I cry when I am happy or having an out of body experience). The fact that I was sitting (standing, rocking out) alone didn't bother me at all. I wonder why some people have such problems with doing things by themselves, like going to concerts, movies, dinner alone? It can be utterly rewarding.

Anyhoo I am not going to give you a play by play of Sting, Andy Summers and Stuart Copeland's genius show because I am sure any review will tell you how awesome they were (and how Sting's ass cheeks can crush walnuts in those tight black pants of his). And how Elvis Costello, Diana Krall and Trudie Styler all walked past (imagine, they were 20 rows back from the stage! But I guess Trudie see's enough of Sting's arse at home). But I will display some of the footage from my video camera which I tucked into my bra and snuck into GM Place.

PS I swear to God that is not me singing along....honestly....









Every little thing she does is magic...


A really shaky version of Can't Stand Losing followed by Roxaaaaaane (which sounds better, except for that person trying to sing along)...