what i'm looking for

Today I had my very first date since moving back to Utah. I've heard that there are a plethora of eligible young men in my vicinity eager to date, apparently not to date me. My bad luck could be due to spending most of my time with married folks with little single networking or perhaps I am just a hideous beast. I'd like to believe it's the former but only time will tell.

Anyway, to fully appreciate my situation I think it is time to come out of the closet to my readers. No, I'm not an expletive dyke, as a client called me today, I'm a (gasp) online dater. Last year I joined LDSLinkup. It's really like marijuana of the online dating world. You get coaxed in to it by the sell that "It's a networking site. Married people are on it too. You don't have to use it to date." I've not only heard this but I've said it in a vain attempt to feel better about my choice. However, I believe that all single people, and perhaps some not so single people, have perused that site looking for a potential date. I have to admit that two good things have come out of it... Ange and David. After some time being on the link, I decided to start phasing myself out of it. I was on the verge of pulling my profile when my married friends came up with a "bright" idea. They not only thought I should stay on it but I should take the online thing further. Their stance was that this form of dating had become more and more accepted. They believed that plenty of normal people were on such sites and that if they were single it would be the way to go. My "favourite" thing about married people is that they can say what they would do if they were single but with an automatic by because they're currently attached. My true favourite thing about my friends is that they always have my best interest at heart. So, as time wore on I started to open my mind. Suddenly that heroine didn't seem so dangerous. What harm could it really do? I acquiesced and signed on to a dating site for one month.

The first "flirt" I received was from a 55 year old man. If I thought it appealing to date my dad, he might have stood a chance. I brushed it off and pushed on. I still wasn't really in to it but saw first hand success with friends. After a few emails from one young fellow, I finally caved and gave my number. I wasn't too stoked but again, I was working on my closed mindedness. The phone call was slightly awkward but I wondered if I was just trying to find something wrong. Apparently I'm picky which is confusing to me, as it's hard to be picky when there's nothing to choose from! Going back to the date... the first red flag was when the date revolved around just a movie. The second red flag was that it was at the dollar theatre. The third red flag was telling me I was cute. I typically take this as a compliment but when you've never met in person and have only talked for mere minutes, it makes for a most uncomfortable moment. I decided we needed to change the location. Dinner and movie is fine but just a movie is the most ridiculous way to get to know someone. The location was changed to Jamba Juices. I was tied up at work and at 5 minutes past the hour, he called to see if I was on my way. I thought I had at least a 10 minute window to be late but maybe he was just anxious. {For the record, I hate being late}

As we stood in line to get juice, I pondered how I got myself in to this. I'm working on being a nicer person (plus I was admonished by my father) and my blog is more to mock myself, so I won't go in to all the gory details. Bottom line is that it was awkward, I wasn't always sure how much he was listening and well, he had warts on his hand. He was nice but I have some ideas regarding social hierarchies. Theoretically I am appalled by such a thought, but realistically, we are in different castes. He asked if we could go out again and my instinct was to do the "um, well, okay" and never return his call. However, after the ministry airplane ride, I decided to buck up. I gently told him that I didn't think we had much in common and were in different places in our lives. The honesty felt good, the look in his eyes felt bad. This was my first taste with the hard drugs and I'm starting to think I need to quit all of them... even pot. Perhaps I need to give meth a try or even ecstasy but I think I may be a drug-free kind of kid.

I'm not judging online dating. I know a handful of people that have had success with it. I'm just not convinced I will be one of them. I can't fully embrace the idea and thus it clouds my experiences. As I close this post, my embarrassment dwindles. So few secrets left for my blog... Sometimes coming out of the closet is the best way to truly accept oneself. {Holds breath as she hits Publish Post}


he's a missionary man

As we know, things can happen when you fly. I've always been such a carefree flyer with little distraction but the last two times I have sat beside less than desirable plane partners. The first experience involved a married man that was just a little too sweet. He failed to recognize that the unwanted touching was not being reciprocated. Then yesterday I sat beside a young man coming back from a ministry in Los Angeles. I found this out within five minutes of sitting down beside him. Oh crap... I think he's going to want to talk to me. He asked if I could spare him a few minutes to talk and in my attempt to be nice I stated "Okay, just a few as I do want to read my book." I knew in the back of my mind that a few minutes would become the whole flight and kicked myself for not being completely honest. No, I really don't want to get in to a conversation. My book and music are more appealing, but thank you for asking. I'm going to kill Kris for checking out and putting on her headphones. That's the last time she gets the aisle seat. I was completely uninterested in the discussion as I knew he wouldn't convert me to his religion and he certainly had no interest in mine. His approach was totally off-putting. It revolved around guilt, fire and brimstone and humans inherent "badness." He wasn't too pleased when my response to "how was that for you" was "I don't really appreciate approaches that put me on the defence or attempt to make me feel guilty. I think preaching the positive aspects of spirituality get you further." He wanted to belabor his point of why it works but I was done. I ended it as politely as possible just as the plane hit the ground... longingly looking at Vinny and The Time Traveler's Wife.

I was trapped with no way out, he could not read my non-verbal cues (or chose to ignore them), his breath stunk, it was a wasted conversation and I was frustrated because I didn't just say no!

Are planes breeding grounds for getting trapped? Are there better places to trap someone? Have you been trapped or gotten out of one? I'm beginning to think me and planes might not mix.


today is such a special day

There is a great person I know who is celebrating a birthday today. Her behavior hasn't always been great, like the time she was grounded from playing Pacman on the Atari due to swearing or the time she threw a large jug of water on a kid (but he can be very bratty). She says some of her words funny, like tomato. She's taught me some good phrases like "lovely" or "just a titch" or "bloody hell" (okay the last one is a lie). Sometimes she gets frustrated with me because she'll say "that looks okay" but she really means "that looks good" and so I say "well is it just okay or is it good?" She doesn't realize that her subtlety, likely due to being British, feeds in to my neurosis. Well, she does realize it but forgets in the moment. Then she laughs at me and says "I forget how careful I have to be with you about the words I use." Unlike my one lie, this is true... it just happened this week regarding my new glasses.

She grows a mean garden and is a fabulous cook. I think her best quality is that she is loyal and devoted. Today I ate some Weetabix in her honour. Thank you to SuperTarget for carrying it down here in the USofA.

Happy Birthday Mum. I love you!

(Seeing as half of my family (excluding in-laws) celebrate their birthday within a week of each other... Happy birthday little brother that had the water deservedly thrown on him and happy birthday older sibling twins).
The cutest bird watcher I know!


one more reason...

to love my iPod.

I hate my earbuds for my beloved Vinny (aka 20GB photo iPod) because they don't stay in my ears. In my search for new earphones, I've discovered that it is likely faulty ears. I have yet to find new earbuds that stay in my ears... especially when I workout. As my search continues, I have gained a new appreciation for my originals.

It all started with laundry on Monday. I was pulling my socks out of the dryer when, in horror, I realized that I had washed and dried my earbuds. Okay, so it's a long story but I had put my iPod in to a sock when I went to Moab. Yeah, yeah, I'm weird. Anyway I had taken Vinny out but left behind the buds. I untangled the mess and plugged them in... and they worked! Now I have clean earbuds that still don't stay in my ears but I'm happy. Well, happy but still shopping around.


everlasting love

Unlike the new Pringles ad campaign, I don't think of love, let alone the everlasting kind, when I think of crisps*. I do think of my niece singing "Wraith Pinned To The Mist and Other Games" by Of Montreal. I made my sister a mixed CD and my nieces apparently always ask for "Auntie's CD." Avery is five and although she doesn't really want to go to Antartica because she thinks it would be too cold, she really likes singing that song. Now if only I could get her to sing it to me over the phone.

While I missed being a part of my family Easter festivities, I did spend the weekend in Moab for the 40th annual Jeep Jamboree. My biggest regret is not owning a digital camera. I have never seen so many jeeps and so many rednecks all in one place. The sweetest mullet belonged to a man with silver hair down to his mid-back. The front was of course cut short and neat. This was accompanied by an equally astounding grey handlebar moustache. I'm not mocking this man because I was truly in awe of him. There were those worthy of my mockery, like the beer drinking idiots that stood mere feet away from the jeep crawlers or the kids jumping off the bridge with only a narrow margin of error (incidentally a 16 year old missed it and shattered his ankle). I decided to fit in with fellow voyeurs by getting a nice sunburn on my left arm while spending a few hours at Potato Salad Hill. It took me some time to realize that people were actually hoping for a rollover. We left there to do some of our own driving and I was completely amazed at how much fun I had riding in an open jeep. It might just be everlasting love.

However, true love was spent hiking in the Fiery Furnace. It is one big maze. There are no marked trials and you are constantly coming to dead ends. It had to be one of the coolest places I've hiked in some time. Angel's Landing in Zions comes a close second. My new goal is to explore Utah to its fullest this year because when I'm outside I do find everlasting love...

*The use of crisps are my tribute to my British heritage which I also love. Crisps=Chips



It's amazing how much good Super Target can do for one's soul. It can bring to mind appreciation for what you have and rekindle fond memories. I know, I know, it's a chain store but I'm convinced it's magical.

Last Thursday I was getting my eye exam at Target as it is one of the providers for my insurance. By the way, I chose some funky new glasses that will be showcased when they come in. To bide some time after the awful pupil dilation (I think I'd rather risk eye disease then go through that again), I did a little grocery shopping. This Target carries the Skinny Cow peanut butter ice cream sandwiches that seem a rare commodity in this town. As I was waiting for my $120 grocery bill, that was really supposed to be $30, to ring through, I heard loud wailing and gnashing of teeth. I looked over and saw a distressed boy yelling at his mother about his lack of a toy. It was apparently not fair that she was buying toys for other kids but not him. He even tried to lay a few unsuccessful hits on her. She calmly headed to the register, red faced and obviously trying to keep it together. I gave her a smile as she walked him out of the store because the last thing she needed was a snide remark or disapproving glance. I thought "I'm glad that's not me." There is always someone else who is having a worse day than you, and really, life is pretty darn good.

So, fast forward another five minutes as I headed to my car, smiling, groceries in tow, grateful that I have not yet endured that kind of kid havoc. A car alarm started to sound. I was immediately taken back to an embarrassing moment likely triggered by the flustered mother. The age is hazy, but I think I was about 13 or 14, running errands with my mom in a ridiculous sports car that my dad owned for less than six months. I thought sitting in the car was a better alternative than going inside to Canada's equivalent of the DMV. Little did I know back then that government agencies move at a snail's pace. After 15 impatient minutes I wanted out. I went to open the door of that silly blue corvette (or was it black) and the stupid alarm went off. Panic set in as I realized that the doors still would not unlock and I was trapped inside a honking car. People walked by confused as to why I didn't turn off the alarm. One man even attempted to talk to me through the noise while I gestured that I couldn't get out or make the noise stop. My mom didn't arrive until long after the car alarm had gone off several times. I was sure I had endured all the humiliation a teen could, but little did I know what junior high still had in store! I had almost forgotten about that incident until that rainy night last week in the Super Target's parking lot. Yet the rain couldn't deter the laughter...

Go to Target, it might just change your night.


creepy crawlies

I've never been the type that was afraid of mice, snakes or insects of any kind. This may be due in part to my brother that is just older than me. When we were kids he would catch garter snakes in the ravine behind us and keep them until they died. We would spend some afternoons pulling the legs of Daddy Long Legs or get paid to eat ants. My brother was a genius. They don't taste like much of anything and you get enough money to buy candy at Macs. It was a much more honorable way to make a quick 50 cents to buy treats, rather than giving your ass-wipe vice principle a compliment so that he would give you a candy. Besides, when you finally reached him at recess and told him you liked his tie, he'd usually be out of candy and you'd have wasted an insincere compliment. As my brother got older, his bedroom turned into a reptilian haven. He had geckos, iguanas, and snakes. He also kept around several mice. Some were for feeding John Wayne (his iguana), others were for his rocket adventures. One particular mouse, Super Dave, managed to live through several rocket launches. Most of the other guys died before their parachute hit the ground. I suppose their heart just couldn't take it.

Out in the natural environment I'm fine with these ugly things but indoors they skeeve me out. We recently killed a mouse in my apartment and I shuddered to think of it running across my carpet. My skin crawled the other day when a centipede creeped near my foot in my work bathroom. I almost had a heart attack when a bat fluttered near my face when I was fast asleep. Who would have thought a bat would fly in to a bedroom on the 19th floor of an apartment smack dab in the middle of a downtown city? That was awful and awfully funny. My mom's response was that the bat was likely more scared than me. I couldn't give a flying fig about the bat's feelings. Now, I like dogs but the other day I saw one gnawing on a dead animal carcass. There was no one around and I imagined Rover wondering back home and licking his master's face after ravaging a dead animal. Sick, sick, sick. Animals belong in context and certain things need to stay inside and others need to stay out.


it's not always the best medicine

Last night I was procrastinating going to bed. I had the television on while I read some things on the internet and the blasted laugh track on a sitcom was driving me insane. Apparently we can take the humour training wheels off for movies and certain television shows (blessed Arrested Development, Scrubs and The Office) but for the most part we still need guidance. I'm just so thankful that television producers help me understand that the poorly written line was indeed humorous. Oh, and I just laughed hysterically at that site gag thanks to that exuberant stranger (or computer) spewing from my Sanyo 20". Thanks for all the silly canned giggles to cue my senses about something so very funny. Thanks Hugh. Graham and I have discussed our disdain for the fakeness but all in vain. ABC, NBC, CBC and FOX all fall prey to this haunting sound.

I have no data to back it up, but I think weak sitcoms are directly correlated to the laugh track. One exception to my extensive research, spanning twenty odd years, would be Seinfeld. I have this fantasy about the extinction of canned laughter. In my television Utopia there would be a resurgence of well written comedies sans laugh track. My stomach would hurt and I would need TiVo to rewind the parts I missed due to laughing too hard. My doctor would ask to me to reduce my television consumption due to his concern that I might burst a blood vessel. The rock hard abs I always dreamed of would come to fruition as they would be exercised regularly.

Coming to my senses, I finally turned off the t.v. As I was drifting off to dreamland, I pondered equally obnoxious things... ah, the cheesy commercial jingle. What ranks high on your obnoxious list?


full circle

My day on Friday started and ended with two different police officers. Once all the dust settled, I found it fairly amusing. On my way to work, an aggressive arsehole sent me in to the turning lane when he chose to take my lane regardless of the fact that our cars were parallel. It scared the living daylights out of me so I gave him a honk. His response was to give me the finger, followed by more hand gestures, followed by the finger, followed by reversing very close to my vehicle, followed by yet more finger wagging. I was silently raging, fantasizing about all the awful, horrible things I would like to do to him. He burned through the light only to cut off yet another innocent driver. I have never called the police to report this kind of behaviour but I was absolutely infuriated by him and the fact that I was now in a horrible mood. So, I took down his plate and called the local police station. The police officer was polite and understanding. He said he would give the driver a "talking to" if they managed to find him, both of us knowing full well it wouldn't happen.

I managed to shake it off, as I had some killer therapy sessions ahead of me. By the time I went to the Guster concert I was fully recovered. On the drive home, Lisa and I were discussing the concert and her impending departure when I suddenly saw flashing lights in my rear view mirror. Terror struck as I asked her "Was I speeding? Did we go through a light?" The officer came to my window and called me by name, well, the phonetic pronunciation. He seemed slightly confused as I told him he had the correct spelling but the pronunciation was different. He then proceeded to tell me my car was flagged as not having insurance. We had to open my trunk as I had left my purse in there during the concert. I showed him my insurance slip that had unfortunately expired a week ago. I assured him I did indeed have insurance but that the new slip was at home, yadda yadda yadda. It was all true but I didn't know if my sweetness and sincerity would fly. He "gave me a pass this time" and then I asked if I had done anything wrong. Apparently I lack a plate light which I didn't know I had to have. I think he was just reaching for a reason to pull this cutie over. Speaking of cute, Lisa was desperately searching for a ring on his finger. I was much relieved and drove on home. I found out later that the section of road I was pulled over in is crawling with police at night. I guess it is the bad part of town... if such a thing exists in this sleepy place.

March 31st will go down as my cop day, while my niece Parker will celebrate the day of her birth. Since being in Utah I've been pulled over twice. In fact, the only time I have ever been pulled over is in the United States. I guess Canadian cops like me or the USA brings me bad karma.