Get it together

"Only good girls get into trouble. Bad girls know how to take care of themselves."

That was THE best thing I heard yesterday. Last night Jamie's Area held a symposium on dating. The five speakers got down to the brass tacks of dating.

Local writer Chandler Levack interviewed her grandma Gemma Fischer on how dating has changed. Granted, some values have morphed over the decades, I think people still ultimately want the same thing: To love and be loved. It's human nature, and though we may have certain liberties in this day and age, the price we pay is a more complicated way of dating.

I was already feeling pretty emotional that day, and some of the bittersweet things Fischer said made me want to ball my eyes out. She talked about how people are too choosy sometimes, but one cannot keep looking forever for Mr/Ms Right. Maybe people are too greedy and want to "play the field" but that's also where complications arise. Fischer had everyone in the place paying attention at one point. You could hear a pin drop when she told the audience about her husband and how he spent a lot of time in Quebec, and how she, as a woman, knew not to ask too many questions. She also spoke about compromise and how women usually compromise more in a relationship. She pointed out that no one is perfect, and at some point you just have to accept it. Not settle per se, but quit looking for perfection. And I almost lost my shit when she talked about finding love and not letting it go because true, true love only happens a few times in a person's life. If you're lucky. So if you find it, don't lose it. Simple words, but often a complicated and hurtful process, no? It was so interesting listening to her speak because some of the things she said seemed outdated, but if you really thought about it, it's still relevant today for most people in some capacity.

Chris Dupuis provided a queer perspective and talked about his experiences being a slut. In his dry yet humourous manner, he through a top 10 list of his more memorable amorous encounters.

Emma Healey gave us the high school perspective and laid down three rules that should be made legal when it comes to dating. Number 1 was making Ikea the must-go-to place for a first date. I can't imagine that girl having any troubles getting a date with her witty personality. She can't be as awkward as she claims to be!

Kathleen Phillips performed one of my favourite pieces of the night. She wrote a hilarious character sketch about Charlotte, the Harlot, who loved everyone she had been with.

Aaron Kopff's talk was probably the most uncomfortable of all. He was a bit all over the place as his story had numerous offshoots, and it was hard to follow at times. But everyone collectively cringed and recoiled as he recounted the story of the time he shit his pants and had to call his ex to bring him a new pair. He ended his talk with an Annie Hall reference about how dating and love is a battlefield. Sure it's easier and less painful to not date---there wouldn't be as many casualties---but we just can't help ourselves.

One, Two, Buckle My Shoe

There's something comforting about making a list. It's the beginning of a task, and it always makes you feel like you're getting something done even when all you're really doing is organizing. You may get the list done, or, in my case, you may not.

I know people who love making lists more than they love their mothers. I do not. I like lists sometimes, and I love my mom most times. However, in an effort to do more writing, I've decided to try and do a weekly list on this blog. It could be about anything...I'm open to suggestions, the key is to just have things to line up and then you, dear reader, can knock them down.

Anni suggested I make a list of things I want to do this summer. Seeing as Toronto has been lovely lately, full of sunshine and my mood has drastically improved from the despair of last week, I thought, why the hell not.

Summer's one of my favourite seasons---I mean there aren't many to choose from, but it's got a few things going for it. Namely my birthday is in the summer (now that I'm older, it's not as exciting and maybe in a few years, I'll come to hate summer because of it) and because summer is the best time to be biking around and fruit generally tastes better when it's warm out.

So, here are some things I want to do this summer:

1) Learn to fix/build a bicycle. I recently went to a bike co-op an learned some very basic skills. Bike fixing is like opening a Pandora's box. There's always more to tune up.

2) Hang out on stoops more. Nothing says fun like hanging out on a friend's porch/stoop watching people while enjoying some cold brews. Maybe incorporate a board game or two.

3) Learn Spanish. Not necessarily a summer-related activity, more an attempt to get motivated to learn a new language.

4) Visit Chicago. I have a fascination with the city and what it offers. And not because of the Obamas.

5) Bike rides and picnics on Toronto Island. 'Nuff said.

6) Hang out in parks and drink beer. Reasons to do this are similar to #2, but add in frolicking dogs and amateur baseball, and it's bliss.

7) Go back to New York and enjoy the city in all its sweaty, sticky, stinky glory.

8) Visit friendlies in Halifax and go biking to a lake. Jump in and bask in nature's grandeur.

9) Play Bocce ball and croquet.

10) More S.T.

That's it. A rather do-able list, I'd say.



*If you are really curious about #10, e-mail me.

**If you're really, really curious about whether I've accomplished this list, ask me in the fall. I may lie.

Give me my damn eggs...

I should really mention the following things each time I visit a new hairdresser:

1) Do not make me look like an ass.

2) I do not style, use product or blow dry my hair so please do not spend more time styling my hair at the end than on the actual cut itself. The cut is king. I am a lazy hair person. I do not even own a blow dryer.

3) Just because I give you a photo of the kind of cut I want doesn't mean you have to do everything in your power to make my hair look like that. As soon as I step outside that door, the wind is going to flip and toss all your hard work into one frustrating knot, making me look like a chump.

4) Do not make me look like an ass.

Apparently my latest hairdresser did not listen to points 1 and 4.

I haven't successfully found a good hairdresser since leaving Edmonton. Not only did I find one, but two, count 'em TWO! really, really stellar stylists in E-town. Surely, Toronto could step up its game and present a worthy contender. I would think T-Dot would have at least one stylist who is both friendly and able to give me a cut that doesn't make me weep. I mean, really! I've tried recommendations, I've tried cheap stylists, expensive salons both here and in Halifax. Most cuts have either left me running out of the salon screaming and fighting the urge to cry or made me look in the mirror and go "meh" or "I should have just put a salad bowl on my head and cut it myself."

Daaaaaaaaaaaaaamn. I gots no luck with the hairdressers.

Let's Dance

Ok, sometimes when I'm at work, I'll look up videos on YouTube (who doesn't, right?)

Anyway, I came across this little gem.

I'm a suckah for breakdancing anything. I've even started watching America's Next Best Dance Crew
and it wasn't because I was curious to see where A.C. Slater ended up. Admittedly JC Chasez, the Justin of N'Sync that didn't make it, seems like a pretty nice guy. He's always giving constructive criticism and quick to point out the positive aspects of a crew. And Lil' Mama with her sweet Brooklyn accent is definitely one of my favourites of the show. But I digress...

bgirldeedee, aka Lilach, does some pretty dope moves with her flexible phalanges, popping and locking, doing the moonwalk, fancy footwork and other moves. They look complicated even in hand form, so props to her for her choreography.

I wanna hold your haaaaaand...

So I gotta give a proper shout out to this blog I've been following lately. Two words: Ryan Maloney. The man is a genius, absolutely brimming with wit and humour. I can attest to that because I work with him. Not only does he bring joy to my daily editorial meetings, he also brings a winning smile, apple-coloured cheeks and a mischievous twinkle in his eye, making the daily grind just that much more bearable.

I think Julie summed it up best when she described what happens when she reads his writing: Guffaw, guffaw, guffaw, awwww.....Ryan writes about his life with the right mix of honesty, self-deprecation and raunchy humour. He'll make you laugh, he'll make you cry, and he'll make you want to regurgitate his words.

If he knew I was gushing on and on about his work here, he'd probably blush a bit more in his already rosy cheeks and say, "Aw, shucks." Well, too bad, Maloney. I'm plugging your blog, and you best be ready to rouge more.

Now, if you'll take a walk down television memory lane with me, do you remember that episode of Seinfeld where Jerry dates a woman with enormous man hands? And that scene where she rips open a lobster with her bare hands?

Well, that's exactly how I feel right now wearing my current pair of gloves. See, I HATE gloves. I hate them because I don't like the way it makes my fingers feel alienated or the way it makes my hands look ginormous or how my pinky finger is always freezing and needs to sneak into my ring finger's section like a child sneaking into their sibling's bed just to get some extra warmth. And the reason why I'm wearing them is because my old pair of mittens have great big, gaping holes in them. I'm currently knitting a new pair of mittens, but it's taking me freakin' forever. And, because winter seems to be back, I need something on my paws, so I've resorted to the gloves.

Perhaps these monolith hands will help build bigger snowmen and snowballs? Lord knows they make my snow angels look warped.

Spring Cleanup, Please

Now don't get me wrong: I love spring when things are starting to melt. I used to love watching rivers of water from huge chunks of ice run into storm drains. But there's something about the ceremonious unveiling of long-forgotten dog shit rearing its ugly head that I could do without. You'll always find smears of dog poop and mushy piles of kaka all over the sidewalks and other walking areas when the weather starts to warm up a bit. I guess it ain't spring until you step into some months-old canine fecal matter that have gone through the freezing/thawing process.

The street's barfed up construction and concrete

The last few days I've been a Moody McMoodson. Not in a terrible way exactly. I feel pretty upbeat in spite of some work anxieties and uncertainty. I am now in Edmonton, visiting the fam and just hanging out.

The universe is certainly on its ass. The weather is warmer than in Toronto and it's frickin' raining so the streets are an ice rink. My usually quiet, boring suburban neighborhood has been dug up and there's loads of construction going on. I guess the city is expanding its transit system so things are all out of whack. I can't get over how much things are being dug up and how there are piles of ice, snow and pipes everywhere.

The biggest whammy of being back is seeing my friends. These are people I've known for 10+ years, and they're all grown up now. Little partying, everyone's in serious relationships, got careers on track, buying houses and cars. It freaks me out a bit to think of our past partying days and feelings of uncertainty. There was such excitement and optimism then. Now it's replaced by responsibility and routine. I guess that's what happens when you "grow up".

But I still can't help but feel incredibly guilty for having so much fun in my life. It's like I've got a larger slice of the cosmic pie of happiness and hot diggity, am I ever having fun. My life in Toronto is so different than my past life in Edmonton. It's odd to be back to revisit bits of the old me and old haunts. I can't help but feel very relieved for leaving Edmonton, and that makes me feel kind of guilty. I mean, these are my roots, yo! It's been almost two years since I've been back to Edmonton and while I'm enjoying strolling down Memory Lane, it's completely under construction. Things are familiar and they're not. It's definitely an odd feeling.