A Conference!

So apparently I'm going to Toronto on September 12.

This is a Friday and I could in theory stay for the weekend if I paid for my own hotel. Otherwise my work will pay for a flight there and back in the same day.

As odd as it is, I have no people in Toronto. I have friends all over Canada, but for some reason none over there.

The thought occurs to me to stay the weekend anyways and wander around- but it just sounds kind of lonely.

What would you do?

xo

Fishy Men

Now before all my drama and deleting happened, you may remember that I was about to go on a date with Plenty of Fish boy.

And I know that I promised Ali to talk all about it in excruciating detail...
I've seen so many hilarious blind date posts that I was really looking forward to doing one of my own. I wanted to describe all the outrageous hijinks and have you wishing that you could tumble down the rabbit hole that is the princess's world.

But that's not going to happen. I simply cannot make fun of this guy. He was sweet, and effusive with his flattery. He showed up on time. He paid for my drink though it wasn't necessary. He told me stories and asked about my life. I cannot say one bad thing about him.

Now that being said, I want to clarify that I won't be going out with him again. As sweet as it was, there was simply nothing there. No spark, no desire to even casually touch. Nothing. *le sigh* I hope he finds a fabulous girl.

However, this does lead to a whole other topic, which actually is the real point of this post. He phoned me later on that evening and asked how he did. Now I was fine with that, as I would prefer to get the whole "yeah, there won't be a date #2" over with as quickly as possible.

However, what is it with men and performance evaluations? Seriously!

After sex, home-made dinner, massage, anything - "So how was it?"

Now I'm not an idiot. I understand that all people need validation, and may be insecure about their skills. I understand that you want to ensure that the experience was enjoyable for all parties. However, that being said - I have two major complaints with the "how was it?" question.

1. Wait a bit. While you're sitting there glowing/digesting/almost asleep you don't feel like perking up for an immediate review. It takes away from the glowiness. It wakes you up from your massaged up doziness. And if it's right after a first date? Maybe the person is still evaluating. Perhaps they were on the fence, and that question annoys them to the point where they move over to the negative side of that line.

2. Pay attention! Did the person eat the entire meal? Did they relax to the point of sleep in the massage? Were they really involved during sex, or simply orgasm-ing to get it over with?* 90% of communication is non-verbal. You should know how things went without needing verbal confirmation.

I lied- there's a #3. What if it sucked? Why put someone in that awkward position? Let them give feedback in their own way in their own time. Because I have to say, I've lied and given positive feedback after sex before, just because 2 seconds after it was over the guy immediately turned to me and asked how it was. I'm sorry, you're still naked and in my face- what else am I supposed to say other than it was fab?

*I'm aware that women have the rep for faking orgasms. But seriously, I bet if I were to be watching, I would have no problem figuring out who meant it and who didn't.

Tabula Rasa

So you may or may not have noticed that this blog was down for a day. I hope I didn't lose too many readers as a result.

I've written this post in my head 100 times now, and I still don't know what the best way is to approach it.

No one has access to my archives any longer and I am starting over. I would love to explain why, however it would defeat the purpose of deleting everything.

I know that I have at least one new reader now who will be monitoring this blog closely. The thought occurred to me to shut down this blog and start a new one. But to me that would imply that I am hiding something. I would prefer to be open about what I'm doing.

I didn't need to delete every post that I've ever written here, but I find it to be kind of symbolic of my life at the moment. As I've mentioned before, I'm beginning a new chapter and erasing the past seems like a good thing to do.

I think that people who don't blog don't really get them. They don't understand why we feel compelled to put our thoughts and feelings out for the world to see. I was going through a very bad time in the past couple of years and I found it comforting to discover that there were others out there who felt the same way. How else would I have found this kind of support?

I've made some genuine friends as a result of this blog. Some that I get together with in person. Some that I email constantly. Some that I am planning dream trips to visit. Without this glorious blog I never would have imagined that I could connect with such wonderful people in all corners of the earth.

So, I will acknowledge that I perhaps should show some more discretion in what I write about. Lord knows I'm far more conservative in what I reveal than a lot of the blogs that I read, but it seems that I still said too much. And I did go against my own rule that I created in the beginning:
This blog is my happy place. I will not overload it with complaints and negativity.

So, I have a few topics that I think I should avoid for the greater good. But since there are a million zillion topics in existence in the world, I think I'll still be OK.

Thanks for all your emails requesting to be invited in!
xo

Girls Bonding Experience...

My Dear Anon: Hello?
Princess: Whatcha doing today?
MDA: Nothing
Princess: Me Neither, wanna see if we can get tattoos today?
MDA: OK

And that's how much planning went into what I did this past Saturday.

So off we skipped to the tattoo parlour.

My Dear Anon went first, and I proceeded to distract her.
Not that she really needed it, as she seems to be under the mistaken impression that tattoos don't hurt. Apparently it's mind over matter with her, because she got along just fine.

My Dear Anon got a lovely little tree frog. She couldn't get the entire tattoo that she wanted, but she has an excellent start.

So for anyone who's never had a tattoo before, let's tell you a bit about how the process works:

Well first of all you generally have to make an appointment for a consultation, and then make a later appointment for the actual tattoo. We kinda skipped all that by going to a place that accepts walk-ins on Saturdays. It's also why My Dear Anon didn't get her whole tattoo - it was too elaborate for a walk-in.

So you go and tell the guy what you're looking for, how big and where you want it. In our case, he sent us away for an hour while he listened to god-awful heavy metal music and drew it up for us.

Then My Dear Anon lay on the bed-type-thing.
First the not-chatty-at-all guy lay down the drawing transfer onto her leg, then he inked the outline. Last comes the colouring in.

Not-Chatty then wrapped Anon's tat in plastic and it was my turn.

Now I'm not nearly as cool or relaxed as Anon is. I remember very well how much my last tattoo hurt, and like before I came prepared for the event. And I feel compelled to add that my preparation was the only thing that made Not-So-Chatty crack a smile the entire time.

Yup. I brought a stuffed animal. Not as security blanket (Although that's what Anon accused me of), but so I would have something to squeeze. Ask My Person- she knows! She gave me a teddy bear last time! *Ahem* Moving On...

Anyhow, My Dear Anon did her best to distract me as well. Fortunately it didn't really take that long. Only about 35 minutes for mine.

God do I ever look like I have a fat calf in that photo.
Anyhow, the same process - transfer, outline, colouring in.
Oh yeah, and lots of wiping off of blood. My daffodil looked pretty orange for a while...

So I got covered in plastic too. Was told to keep it on for 2 hours, then be meticulous with washing and moisturizing it. We bought some aloe too for good measure.

So far no itchiness, but I'm waiting for it to happen. That's my most enduring memory of my last tattoo.

Anyhow, aren't they pretty? Finally some flowers that won't cause me to have a deathly allergic reaction.

xo

Chiquitita & Waterloo

I don't talk about K very much. This is sad really because she's one of my nearest and dearest.

Tonight she left me a message on my answering machine. (And for the record - this is directed at YOU My Dear Anon, I was in fact out.)

K had "Karma Chameleon" stuck in her head. She decided that I should have it stuck in my head too so she sang it. Not just a line or two, but quite a bit of it. I suspect she may have been disappointed if I had actually picked up the phone.

Having just returned from an advance screening of Mamma Mia! I was quite amused and enchanted by her performance. She used to do this quite often. Although her favourite answering machine song wasn't quite as well known.

One of our favourite things to do during my University era was to up each other's answering machines and leave inane messages. (hey, I never said we were clever - just amused by our own hilariousness...)

So to you my darling readers, I'm going to dedicate my darling K's favourite answering machine song. Feel free to sing it onto some one you love's machines later on: (Choose a tune)

A big black eye has my brother Jim.
Somebody threw a tomato at him.
Tomatoes can't hurt you I said with a grin.
Oh yes they can if they're still in the tin.

xo

On Being a Dirty Whore

You know how sometimes something irritates you, and you write a post about it- but really you're pretty much over it? Or you might even be embellishing it just for the sake of entertaining your readers?

Yeah. This isn't one of those posts. I'm genuinely hurt and irritated right now.

So remember this post? Well I briefly mentioned in there that we're in a "not talking" phase right now. I'm going to talk about one of the reasons why.

You see long after we broke up and got over the initial shock/hurt etc etc we became friendly again. We would email every Friday to talk about what happened on Grey's the night before. And I told him about my blog.

He decided to start one of his own blogs. And he didn't tell his wife. And one of his posts was about my....attributes. I wasn't really flattered. I was pretty much shocked and confused and dismayed. And guess what happened? Yup. His wife found it.

Anyhow, for the sake of his marriage, it was best that we not be friends anymore. We couldn't be friends on Facebook even. There were no more email chats. I wasn't allowed to ever comment on his blog.

* * *

Now, you've all heard about D2. He's a very good male friend. Him and I would go on the occasional trip together. We would hang out and talk about everything under the sun. We would flirt, and occasionally we had a few indiscretions. On the whole though it was pretty innocent. Neither of us wanted to date.

Occasionally D2 would have a girlfriend. I never met any of them. And when he would spend time with me, he would tell them that he was hanging out with co-workers. I couldn't figure it out. We weren't doing anything wrong. When he was with a girl I would never flirt or cuddle or anything. Yet he felt compelled to lie.

It got to the point where I would demand that he tell any girl about me the second I caught a whiff of him dating someone. I don't know if he did or not. He would never talk to me about his girlfriends at all.

* * *

Then today, I found out that someone that I considered a friend deleted me from his Facebook friends as well. When I asked why, he told me that it was because his flirting with me was inappropriate. His wife should be the only woman in his life and that he had taken it too far. It turns out that he had to delete more than one girl who thought they were his friend for the same reason.

Now I met this person through some common friends. We used to work in buildings across a parking lot from each other. We would occasionally have lunch and send the odd email or text. That was pretty much the extent of our relationship.

And yes - he would flirt. Sometimes I was a bit disturbed by the flirting. He did take it pretty far. But for the most part I would laugh it off because I knew without doubt that he absolutely loved his wife. And I also suspected that he chose his flirtations judiciously. He knew that I wouldn't ever act on it, or take it to heart. It was amusing and nothing more.

But now.

Now once again I've been removed from Facebook by yet another married man.
Now I've once again been made to feel like a home-wrecker and a whore.

Why is it that, even though I've done nothing wrong, I'm made to feel dirty? Why are there wives out there who can't stand me when I've never coveted? Why are there girlfriends out there who don't even know that I exist? Why am I some dirty little secret?

I'm not the one who's misbehaved. And yet I'm the villain in this tale. I'm the secret. I'm the one who's so easily been erased from someone's life as if I meant no more to these men than a typed word on a screen - to be deleted without thought.

It's the men who have done something wrong. And yet I feel like the dirty whore.

La Bibliotheque

My father introduced me to the coolest place the other day.

Now, as previously mentioned I adore my Daddy. Worship the ground he walks on even. But I don't necessarily expect him to take me someplace new and cool.

This time he did.

A place where I could find romance and fantasy.
A place where I could meet new people and experience new things.
A place where I could really learn and grow.
And all of this I could do without spending a dime!!

The Library.

Why haven't I ever gone there before? I mean I did research and stuff to get my degree, but the thought never occurred to me to look at any book other than those dedicated to Shakespeare or Freud.

I have spent a LOT of money on books over the years.

When I would get grounded, not only would my TV privileges get taken away, I would also not be allowed to read. My parents knew this was a far greater punishment than losing the TV. (My friends at the time would look at me like I was crazy when I told them this...clearly I hadn't met the right friends yet).

And now....now I can read new authors! I can experiment with books that might turn out to be crap, because there are no consequences to it. I won't have a hateful book cluttering up my space. I won't regret the money I spent on such an inferior piece of literature. I can simply...return it. Unfinished even!

So I'm taking a poll - who else goes to the library?

xo