Monthly Archives: November 2007

An englishman in New York

Earlier this week I experienced speed dating. My biggest fear was that I would meet someone I already know, or actually pay money to meet someone I already know. And, as if I had attracted it, when I arrived at the restaurant, a friend of mine was there having dinner. She asked me why I was there. I asked her again how she was. Then I came clean. She thought it was a pretty cool thing to do.

Never one for punctuality, I was oddly the first to arrive. I met some nice women and ordered a big glass of Goats Do Roam. The coordinator was very interesting with a long list of career activities. I wondered if her pre-dating gig was like working in real estate. You know, showing someone a house you’d really like to have yourself.

Four men and six ladies showed up, which means I get a credit for another event. It was fun to sit and talk to new people and I found it enjoyable. Following the Manslator’s advice, I brought no expectations and was completely relaxed (the Goats helped). I laughed a lot, especially with one guy who, although we probably won’t entertain any romantic furtherings, has become my favourite personality right now. Who can resist being friends with someone who loves life, takes chances, and rises to the top. That is, of course, if his story is accurate. For all I know he could live in a box, no offense to anyone living in a box. Seriously though, he’s an awesome person who has the ability to make me smile just by being himself. He’s offered to be my wingman in exchange for introductions to all my hottie 20 and 30 year old friends.

Will I use my credit? You bet. And, Susan, no one who looked like Sting.

Comparing this to online dating, I have to say this was way better. I’m not particuarly photogenic and my personality doesn’t always shine through the pixels, so I’m thinking online dating is as flat as my computer screen. I am, however, learning a lot about interacting with others, blockers aside, and I’m less fearful to contact people.  Although one guy blocked me tonight after I sent a second picture. Not sure if my unphotogenicness was the problem or I was just wearing too much clothing. Here comes my great attitude…his loss, he didn’t even get to hear me laugh.

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I did good Dad…

It worked! The video explained everything so well, I wasn’t scared at all. I had to introduce some Pampered Chef tools into the mix, but I had the tank off in no time. I even checked to see if my plug was leaking. It wasn’t. The steady run of water has stopped thanks to simply turning down the water flow a bit. The wallpaper is gone. Next step is filling in all the holes and smoothing out any dents. Then, I’m back to the paint store for tester paint. I want to make sure I don’t regret my colour choice for the next 10 years.

I bet my Dad is smiling. He would have been 81 today.

I was thinking about the dialogue that would have ensued had I not been by myself. Something like:

“I need to get the toilet tank off to remove the paper behind it.”

“I’ve got a buddy that’s a plumber.”

“But he’s not here. Can you do it?”

“Probably.”

“I found this video on-line that shows you how.”

“Don’t believe everything you see on-line. They always make it look easy.”

“Why would they lie?”

Jokingly, “Can’t you just leave it, no one is going to see it.”

Hairy eyeballs. “Oh, and it will have to come off again when I paint.”

“Well, can’t I just take it off when you’re ready to paint.”

“If you take it off this time, I’ll do it next time when you paint.”


How to repair a toilet…

This weekend KD, JB and I took down the wallpaper in the powder room. The paper had been there since I moved in over 10 years ago. It was nice, I guess, but it had to go. I need to take back my mansion and begin renos that inspire me to entertain. The next to go is the lace and topper on my front door…also left by the previous owner, who luckily for me, had pretty good taste…10 years ago.

So the boys helped all day on Saturday. JB took the first shift while KD played on Webkinz. Not that I want child labour after me, but for a four year old, he put in a solid two hours and worked hard to do a good job. Not once did he display the usual JB drama he’s so famous for. While I was cleaning up after lunch they both went in and started working. JB dropped out in favour of finding his Diago shorts and t-shirt, but KD hung in there and we made some real progress before his afternoon playdate.

JB and I went to the paint store to look at colour chips. Isn’t it funny how in the absence of toys, kids will find anything appealing, especially soft paint rollers, wallpaper books and new paint brushes. Is it just my kids that think they must leave every store with something? A quick trip to HomeSense nearly ended in disaster when JB decided he wanted to touch all the carefully placed glassware. The young store clerk stood paralyzed with fear. He started to meltdown when I told him we’d have to go, but then I gently took his hand and whispered, “Mommy went to the wrong store, this isn’t the one with all the good toys.”

There’s this fish and chip spot near me called, Freddie’s Fantastic Fish House. We had it Friday night and the kids wanted it again on Saturday. Lips bigger than their bellies and my weekend diet has now consisted mainly of FFFH morsals, save for my toasted tomato and avacado sandwich for breakfast.

After supper the boys played “nicely” on the computer while I continued to strip the paper and JB returned for a second shift. Luckily they were both off duty when water hit the lightbulb and it blew apart all over the bathroom.

This morning I finished removing the rest of the wallpaper…all but behind the toilet.  I was sure there must be a way to get the tank off so I googled it and found this video. I’ll let you know how I do. Actually, I could use some new toilet gear, but for now I just need it out of the way so I can celebrate with a cold corono, the last piece of fish and 60 minutes of yogalates.


Athletic? When?

In the distance two deer crossed four lanes of highway, one stopping mid way to wait for the other. So free and alive. They were friends or maybe doe and fawn, it was difficult to tell. The scene brought freedom to my soul. I do hope they escape the savage bulletry of the season. That is my wish for them as a thank you for sharing their beauty with me.

Overhead an eagle flew, landing in a low-lying tree to devour its nourishment before soaring steadily upward. A powerful metaphor for our setbacks and disappointments in life, filling us with hope and strength for the future.

These natural moments, if we choose to experience them, are powerful. Strong enough to erase bad first meetings with people who aren’t exactly as they describe themselves and assume you are ready to go the distance, just by showing up.


The good advice continues

Funny man Jeff Mac over at Manslations has once again answered one of my questions. Be warned, if you click through, you will learn some things about me you probably didn’t particularly want to know. Having said that, I still think I’m pretty normal, just more honest and open in this completely public forum.

Doesn’t it feel like Christmas? I love that feeling. I remember that’s how I described how I felt when my husband and I were first married. Back before being Santa Claus was so expensive.


Disappointed Mom

Today my kids decided they wanted Gameboys instead of a Wii for Christmas. I begged them to change their minds. But they also want a guitar and a set of drums, so that’s exciting. I hope they aren’t the worst gifts I ever wanted them to have, like their bunkbeds. Which seem like such a normal, fun thing for two brothers to share, until I have to change the sheets in the middle of the night without waking the dry one.

Today they were discussing girls. KD was looking at JB’s valentines from last year. “This one is from Jessica. Look, she put love and kisses and hugs. Is she still at you at school?” Note to self: don’t be “at” anyone.

“I’m throwing away all these valentines from girls, but not Olivia’s cause she’s my favourite girl,” JB responded. At which point I interjected with, “Don’t set your heart on just one girl cause it will get broken too easy. You’ll meet plenty of favourite girls in your lifetime.” Great. Now I’m raising players.

“Don’t worry Mom, he can’t read and I’m not telling him which ones are from girls,” said KD.


Darlings

I woke up this morning and the power was off. I lay there for a few minutes trying to remember what day it was. I panicked a bit thinking there was someplace I was supposed to be. Was there hockey this morning? Was today the day I started my new job?  Was I late?

I had good reason to panic. Yesterday I woke to my alarm at 7:00 and fell back to sleep until 9:15. I was supposed to be at the hockey rink at 9:00 to see KD on the ice for 9:30. I jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes I had laying around, washed my face, brushed my teeth and grabbed my favourite ball hat. I made it by 9:30, just in time.

This morning’s panic subsided when I realized there was no place to be, time irrelevant. It was my birthday.


Coming in from the storm

Water splattered against the window and lapped away the grime from years of neglect. Wind massaged the surface, leaving only remnants of the past. Nature’s housekeeper struggled to scrub away the pain and sorrow, fighting against the dry, fallen leaves empty of their life force.

The synonomy was apparent as she stood there inviting the wind to remove all memory of toil and heartache. Promise filled each drop of rain, each gust of wind. She let her intention direct her. She didn’t feel brave enough to let go of the past, but as the wind and rain grew stronger, she succumed to its inevitable release.

Cleansed and powerful she moved forward. A smile curled her lips. The sparkle in her eye told the tale of a woman infused with possibility, hope and desire. The storm had awoken her passion. Her shoulders were empty, her step light. Years of should haves rolled into the overflowing drain. Tomorrow was now flooded with her dreams.