A Mi-Chemin Toute la Semaine

And now it is time for the comedown. Happiness in my life is typically short-lived; nothing I do to bring myself down, I suppose it is just Murphy's Law.

It is Hump Day, I have the weekend in my sights and I'm searching for party lights. On a good note, I drove to work today in my new car! I am getting the hang of the clutch-gas relationship, and I stalled just once. I am really enjoying this piece of machinery!

The thing that is bringing me down is that I haven't heard from Mr Hottie since my last blog post. I am trying not to overreact, but it seems to me that if he really is interested in me, shouldn't he be messaging me back, trying to set up a date? Or phoning me? Or something?

I'm not sure why I let these things get me down, but I sure do. I attribute some of it to running out of antidepressants for almost a week and then taking two in one day; I have experienced some rough ups and downs in the past. But for the most part I think it's just a wounded heart. For some silly reason I actually believed that he was into me! Gosh!

I go for some time between boyfriends, and even dates for that matter. I try to find logic in things, and really I should just let them be. I would take some of the blame for this particular letdown if I had sought out Mr Hottie, be it online or in the bar. However, this was a complete fluke meeting, and I am now wondering why on Earth I had to even lay eyes on that man.

I have had very few relationships, and I honestly believe I am meant to be single. I hope to never hear words that praise my worthiness, or promises that I will find someone, "Someday." Perhaps not everyone is on such a path, maybe I am one of the unlucky few who must plan a future alone. I'm sure there is nothing wrong with that, but it definitely isn't something I was aiming for.

There is a chance that Mr Hottie is legitimately busy and will get back to me soon, but how can I know for sure? Should I really give him the benefit of the doubt and go on a date, just to set myself up for more agony later?

I shall now be Ms. SingleMama.

Nuage Neuf

I'm pretty sure the translation of Cloud Nine is mangled in my blog title today, but I just don't goshdarn care today!

My day didn't start great, being Monday and all... The kids were late for school (transit failure, big shock), and I still hadn't heard from Mr. Hottie. A friend of mine text messaged me asking about him, and when she found out he hadn't responded, she told me to text him again. I thought about it for a while, and got a second, third, and fourth opinion (oh my!) and decided finally that I should do it just in case yesterday's didn't make it to him, and then leave it up to him forever. I sent a message saying I had a great time, and just wanted to make sure he got my message. That was before lunchtime. No response.

My inner bitter self came out, and I swore off men, and swore at myself for being such a fool for misreading his signals. I wanted to take a break from dating altogether, and just hang with the girls.

After work I made a call about a car that someone recommended to me, and although it was Standard, I dearly wanted it. So now I am the proud owner of a 1996 Sunfire! One of my favorite cars! I had to get a friend to agree to teach me to drive a stick, but I own a vehicle once again! Once I get the hang of it, no more relying on public transit and their dependable failures.

In the midst of all the vehicular excitement, I got a wonderful text message from Mr. Hottie. I was stunned! He apologized for not answering my texts right away (no need, really), told me he had a great time dancing with me the other night (oh I will melt!), and wants me to pick a night to get together again!

All in all, it was a great day! The pessimist in me is waiting for the bad news, but I am trying to force that out and enjoy the goodness!

Possibly by this weekend I could be driving my gorgeous new car to see my new hottie man! Mon dieu!

Cette Semaine

I haven't blogged in almost a week, which is a first since I began this blog. I'm not sure why I didn't post a new entry. I think I partly wanted to allow grieving for Patrick Swayze before I bumped his memorial from the top of the page, and also I have been busy and tired.

The good news is that I started back at work last week! Hooray! It is a tad boring for me right now because there isn't much work for me to do, but the paycheck makes me a happy girl. It is nice to get back into the routine we had before school was out. I had a nice reception when I returned to work as well, which was an awesome surprise.

Montana found out which teacher shall be hers, and the best part is that she is in the same class as her best friend! I was quite worried, but it was for naught. The two girls have been together since the friend transferred here in late Kindergarten, so it is nice that they are still together.

The bad news is that nine years after graduating high school I am still stuck in the midst of girl drama. I have the best group of friends any gal could ask for, they have been there for me for the past year, and I enjoy their company immensely. Last night was one of our planned outings, and the details changed so much my head nearly imploded. I attended the house party, had a great time, and then headed to the bar with my dear friend. In doing this I stepped on another friend's toes without knowing it. I will not reiterate the conversations I had this weekend, because really it would take the whole blog. I hope at this point it is all resolved, however.

Despite the drama, I had a wonderful time at the bars. Yes, bars. We started at one, but it closes early so we headed to another. At the first bar we made a new friend--she was a bundle of energy and adopted us on the dance floor! It was buds at first sight, and I hope to get together with her again! At the second bar I met a guy. I haven't actually done that in years--my last two boyfriends were met online. We kept bumping into each other on the dance floor, and started dancing together to solve the problem. I was inebriated just enough to have the courage to initiate it, and I'm sure glad I did. We danced for the rest of the night, and he kissed me. He was wonderful! He gave me his card, and kissed my hand before we said goodnight.

The ugly part is that I text messaged him today and he didn't respond. I am confused because of the way he acted last night, and I'm holding onto the hope that he was just busy and will contact me soon.

A combination of good/bad/ugly today was that I had my tattoo touched up. I needed the white redone because it didn't hold the first time; apparently my back was too traumatized. So now I have to go through the whole healing process again, but I know it will be worth it! I'm already planning my next tattoo.

Oh and the great part today was that I may have a car soon! My brother's friend offered to help me find a working, reliable car, and after a month I'd all but given up on him. Today he phoned to see if I can drive a standard, which I can't, but I said I could learn. Apparently there is a Sunfire for sale, and that is one of my favorite cars! Oh I was so happy! He is contacting the seller and will let me know.

I believe that is the entirety of my week, the bloggable parts anyhow. I hope this week keeps going well!

Le Meilleur Moment de Ma Vie

I was six the first time I saw Dirty Dancing. My mom's friend decided to put it on while she was visiting, and I was glued. By the time I was seven I was planning my wedding to Johnny Castle. My girlfriends and I would act out THE DANCE every time we had a sleepover, I knew it step for step. To this day the last dance of the movie is still my favorite scene of all time, out of any movie. It brings tears to my eyes.

Twenty years and many movies later, Dirty Dancing is still my all time favorite. I am thrilled to have a daughter to share it with, although she does not have the love for it that I did at her age. She does enjoy it, however, and we watch it often.

The death of Patrick Swayze has devastated me in a way I cannot explain, although I am sure most women my age will understand. Dirty Dancing will never be the same, to say nothing of Ghost, or Road House, or any of his other titles.

Goodbye Johnny, I will forever carry a watermelon for you!

Here is THE DANCE, dedicated to the man himself:

The Time of My Life

RIP
Patrick Swayze
August 18, 1952~September 14, 2009

9/11..Je m'en souviens

September 10, 2001

Such a glorious day! I was eight months pregnant with my baby girl (gender unknown at the time), and this was the day I went crib shopping. I was so excited! It meant the child was real, that I would soon be a mother. I was overjoyed. My mom and I went and looked at all the beautiful cribs, and I chose a pretty white one. I envisioned it made with a crisp new sheet and covered with stuffed animals. For weeks after I set it up I would stare lovingly at it, counting down the days until it would hold my little bundle. For one day, the drama in my life was put on hold; everything was right in my world.

September 11, 2001

Merely 24 hours after my wonderful dream-like day the world came crashing down--or so it felt, to me anyway.

My pregnant routine started at 10 in the morning, every weekday, when I would drag my tired body out of bed and watch The Price is Right. I relied on that show to begin my day, so much so that Tristan--then less than two years old--wanted to name the baby after the show! I slept with my radio playing, and this particular morning I remember wondering hazily why there was no music, only talking. At 11:00 my mother came in to tell me that my favorite show was pre-empted. I was quite angry--got to love the pregnancy hormones! She explained that the World Trade Center had been hit, but this meant nothing to me. I didn't understand the severity of it; I wasn't familiar with the towers.

Once I was up and lucid, I saw the horrors on television--every channel was showing the same terrifying images. I couldn't believe my eyes, it seemed like a terrible nightmare. I think I was in shock the entire day, replaying it over and over. Seeing those people jump from 100 + stories sickened me, and to this day it breaks my heart to think about.

My enthusiasm plummeted on 9/11. I suddenly felt guilty! I knew it was unwarranted, but it was out of my control. How could I have been so excited about something as trivial as a baby crib when people were dying? When a potential war was in the works? Not only was I fretting over my selfish glee, but I had new worries: How could I bring an innocent baby into a warring world?

Pregnancy in itself can be quite unsettling. As new mothers we all have concerns and second thoughts. I felt overwhelmed: I was a 19-year-old pregnant single teen, and had recently moved from one province to another. I had no money, no job prospects, and no furniture! September and October became quite stressful for me with this new fear.

I did gradually let go of the fear and focus on my new blessing, set up the crib, and enjoyed her first cries. She reminded me that there is good in this world, and I am grateful that she came into my life at that time.

That crib became a memento for me, something that I will always connect to 9/11. It represents happiness and hope.

I cannot believe it has been eight years since that frightful day. Although the world is not as scary as I predicted at the time, I will forever remember those innocent New Yorkers that experienced a case of Wrong Place, Wrong Time.

RIP
9/11

Mon Poids 9/10

When I found out I was going to be off work for a while I decided to start up Weight Watchers again. Two years ago I started WW and lost 25 lbs overall, in probably a six month period. Then I started working. It is said that anyone working there would gain 20 lbs because of the lunches we had, and the lunches we bought. It was true; I gained back all 25 lbs. So I figured, what better time to start it up again than when I'm not working?

A week ago I weighed myself, but I did not measure my waist. I was at 162 lbs, which is normal for me, I fluctuate between 159 and 164 on a regular basis. So from now on, every Thursday, I will weigh myself and measure my waist and blog about it.

I haven't been doing WW but I have started using the habits I learned while on it: Portion control, no eating at night, drinking water, etc.

Here are my results:

162 lbs - total loss 2 lbs
39 inches

En Arrière à l'Ecole

You know how teenagers are thought to feel invincible--that nothing will ever happen to them? I realize now that I may have been guilty of that. However, it wasn't my life that I saw as unchanging; it was my daughter's. Montana was born almost eight years ago, and for some reason I built a little bubble around her and myself in which she would never change nor grow. When she started Kindergarten I saw her as a grown-up little woman; a baby who didn't need me anymore. That was three years ago. Today was Montana's first full day of Grade Three. Imagine my grief! Every year she grows closer to independence and farther from my protection. It isn't that I want to shelter her forever (lie) or keep her from aging (bigger lie) but I wish it would slow down just a smidge!

Montana has attended the same school since Kindergarten, and has had the same best friend. The two girls have been inseparable for two years, always having the same teacher. This year there may be a chance they won't be in the same class, and I worry! Montana had a good day today but was disappointed that she wasn't in the same group as her friend, and I would hate to see her sad going into this grade. We will know by the end of this week, and I'm keeping fingers crossed!

With a new school year comes change of routine, change of seasons, and change of moods. This afternoon Montana played a game on Playstation 2, one that frequently tests her patience. I always wonder why she continues to try this T-for-Teen rated game. I voiced my confusion by asking her why she plays this particular game. Her response: "Because I like it." Yes, I can tell by the tears rolling down your cheeks, dear. Oh the next few weeks will be a thrill.

I hope third grade brings her much joy and challenges despite my mixed feelings. She is a fantastic reader, one of the best in her Grade two class, and I hope she finds enough to sate her appetite.

When she was in Kindergarten I realized that Montana did indeed still need me, and I know that won't change for years to come.

Repose en paix

When my aunt was in school, she met a girl named Karen J, who interestingly had the same last name as my grandmother--my aunt's mother. They became best friends, and remained so for the next 40 + years. My mom also became friends with KJ despite their nine year age difference, and because of this I have many memories of her. My mom told my brother DW and me that KJ tried to convince her to name DW "Harpo," and even had a T-shirt made when he was a baby!

When I was eleven, we spent a week and a half with KJ. She had moved 12 hours away from us to a lovely town where she had a house so big I thought it was a mansion, and even owned part of the lake abutting her property. I was very impressed, and had a great vacation there. I even earned money by brushing KJ's hair every evening!

At the time KJ was a foster parent, and was taking care of a little girl named Melissa. I was told by another girl my age that Melissa was an annoying brat, but I completely disagreed after spending time with her. She had many issues, but was a sweetheart and she and I bonded immediately. One night KJ had to go out and I was in charge of putting Melissa to bed, and from that night on she called me "Mommy." I was thrilled.

We found out the horrors Melissa's "parents" leashed on her, including calling her a "Little Cocksucker," leaving her in diapers for days at a time, and having sex in front of her. She was behind developmentally, and had other issues as well that I cannot remember now.

It was difficult to leave; I cried, and was quite sad for some time after saying goodbye to Melissa. A couple years later, KJ adopted the little girl, and I knew she would have a wonderful future. KJ was her angel.

A few years ago KJ got sick. Cancer. I hadn't seen her in a decade, which from what I hear is a good thing; apparently she didn't look quite the same, she was very ill.

My grandmother called this morning to tell us that sadly, KJ passed away. She was admitted last night and died this morning.

Our family is heartbroken. Heaven definitely gained an angel.

RIP Karen J
1959-2009

Here is KJ's obituary:

KJ May 9, 1949 - September 6, 2009 With rum and coke in hand, smile on her face and a mind to conquer all - KJ joined the big conga line in the sky leaving a huge hole in all our lives. From Bohemian roots to mother to all, KJ was the driving force behind so many. Born 17 months behind sister Alex, KJ spent her youth surrounded by all things theatrical and literary. Well-loved and well-learned she took to the world and explored England and Europe, making lifelong and lasting connections everywhere she went. Upon completion of her and Wally's log house she opened house and heart to those who didn't have either. KJ fostered kids for days, weeks, months, years and subsequently a lifetime. After moving, she built her lakeside haven, leaving the front door open, the fire burning and the wine flowing, where she and Melissa soon found each other, grafting their own branch to their family tree. KJ's endless supply of generosity and love soon brought Donny, Terry and Joey to live with them. Fulfilling her lifetime dream of living in Mexico, KJ spent the majority of this past year living "la vida buena" in Mazatlan. Somehow, during all this, KJ's competitive and stubborn nature drove her to become a writer, pine needle basket weaver, rock painter, sailor, consummate dieter, stained glass artist, memory-maker, irreverent card buyer and Boggle-Crib-Crap on your neighbour Scrabble champion, among many. Above all, KJ was sister, mother, aunt, stepmother, and forever foster-mother. KJ held an unbroken bond of friendship with too numerous to list. Also cousins in the USA, and friends worldwide.

Le Fait de Permettre Va

~~Letting Go~~

Love at first sight
A phrase so trite.
I look to fate.

Together we're not
My love in thought;
my depression, innate.

Year after year
I lived in fear
you'd turn me away.

With age came bravery;
much-desired flattery
In words you say.

Just a taste
of your loving embrace
I'd give my life.

Your yes and your no
Tell me stay, tell me go
An inner strife.

Too long I try
Alone, I cry
Empty inside.

You'll never know
I'm letting you go:
THIS
is my last goodbye.

Exposition Nationale Pacifique

Yesterday I went to the Pacific National Exhibition in Vancouver with my mother, Tristan, and Montana. We had an awesome time, which was to be expected :) For those who are unfamiliar with the PNE, it is a 2-3 week event at the end of summer. From April to October, Playland is open, which is just a regular amusement park. The PNE adds much more: More rides, more food, more fun! Every night there is a concert, and last night it was Tom Cochrane, which is the reason we chose yesterday to go.

We arrived before 3:00 PM, and grabbed some grub so our stomachs wouldn't interrupt our fun later on. Then we moved on to the rides. Montana is finally big enough for most of the rides, something we have all been waiting for! Our first ride was called The Music Express; this is the one ride Montana has been dying to go on. She LOVED it!!

Another ride we went on was the Tilt-a-Whirl, something Montana has been on several times in the past few years, and loved it. This particular TAW went so fast our cheeks were sucked backward to the seatback, and she started crying. She also went through a glass house and ran into a window, giving herself a fat lip and red cheek, the poor dear!

After the rides we visited the petting zoo, saw some horses and bulls, and the kids even experienced a mini farm day! They had their own buckets with which to collect fake eggs, milk, and hay. Once they finished their tour of the farm and hayloft, they "sold" their goods to the market and earned a treat!

When we exited the barns, we heard the music of Big League floating on the wind. Panicking, we rushed to the stage to see Red Rider performing a sound check sans Tom Cochrane. It was only 6:15, and the concert was scheduled to start at 8:00. We decided to sit and reserve our seats, knowing we had almost two hours of nothingness while waiting, and also knowing it would be totally worth it. About an hour into our wait, Mom and Tristan ventured off to find deep-fried oreos (surprisingly yummy!) and an old man moved up a chair and stretched his giraffe-like legs across the grass where they had been sitting. I politely mentioned this to him, and he went ballistic. Why this shocked me I don't know--it seems any time I open my mouth someone shoves nasty down my throat. When the two hunters returned, Montana and I moved over enough to make room, and ended up with an awesome view of the stage.

Tom Cochrane did not disappoint. He was amazing, as always, and this was the closest I've ever been to his stage--I had seen him 5 times before this concert. Yes I have met him, and yes he had his arm around me, but I'd never been so close to him while he was singing. It was fantastic!

The concert ended at 9:30, so we headed back to the rides; we expected the park to close at 11:00, and planned to stay until then. I promised Montana we would go back on The Music Express, so we stood in the line, which was long as always. Once it was our turn, the worker claimed he couldn't see Montana's hand stamp and told us we had to go to the main gate and have her re-stamped. I was livid! The park was to close in 20 minutes, and he was turning my 7-year-old away like some scamming teenager! We made the trek to the front of the park and back within ten minutes, and I went to the front of the line to ask if we had to wait yet again, after all that. He said no, but then forgot about us! It was a lovely woman standing in line who brought it to the worker's attention and got us on the ride!

We went on a few more rides, and the park ended up staying open until midnight! We didn't get home until almost 2:00 AM, but it was well worth it. The kids had a wonderful time despite the few negative points, and I will never forget the concert! Hooray for the PNE!

Here is the video for my favorite Tom Cochrane song, the one that had me running around collecting all his albums, and eventually pushed me into the tattoo parlor to have Ragged Ass Road inked onto my back: I Wish You Well.