and i'm the one who's single, vol. 1

I've said it before and I never tire of saying it: my workplace is a freakshow.

Last week, a colleague begged me to come by so she could show me something. I popped in and (surprise, surprise) she shoved a hand overflowing with bling in my face. And here is the conversation that ensued:

Me: Wow, congratulations. I didn't know you were dating anyone.

Ms. Bling: Well, I wasn't. Two weeks ago, I was just like you, thinking that there would never be any hope for me [note that no such conversation was ever had], when everything changed one night. My friend Dave called and invited me to his house to hang out and eat Chinese take-out. When I got there, he had already eaten and was watching the Olympics. So I sat down in his kitchen and ate my food, and when I was done, I asked him if there was any dessert. Well, he didn't say anything; he just got up and went upstairs. When he came back down, he was holding a box and he asked me to marry him. Isn't that amazing?!

Me: So he was just a friend?

Ms. Bling: Yes.

Me: So had you ever dated before?

Ms. Bling: Nope.

Me: Ever kissed?

Ms. Bling: Nope.

Me [unable to avoid sounding incredulous at this point]: Ever even thought about him as a possible significant other?

Ms. Bling: Not really. I was so surprised, I didn't really know what to say. But then I said yes. So you never know, one of your guy friends might propose to you all of a sudden and then all of your single woes will be over.

Me [confused, possibly even disoriented]: Ummm, OK, but the thing is, I don't think I'd really say yes. If I wanted to be with a guy friend of mine, I think I'd already have done whatever to be with him. The friends of mine who are friends are really just friends, not sort of friends who could be something else.

Ms. Bling [beaming with excitement]: tat-tat-tat, you never know!

And here's all I have to say: I'm the one who's single?!

apparently you can can anything

Today I was doing some work research and came across this. It's possible this is the greatest product I have ever seen. I don't think I would ever eat it, mind you, but I am amused all the same.

I'm not sure who came up with this genius idea but I would love to meet them. It's possible they could save the world from everything. I wonder what else he/she has up the sleeve?

Here's a question. Do you eat the canned cheeseburger cold? I'm assuming that if you are resorting to eating a canned cheeseburger, you don't have any way of heating up food. Also, what condiments are on this cheeseburger? Are there different options in case you want ketchup and not mustard? So many questions.

SunnyShine
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RainyBow note: Germans.

oh no

I got a note from Sunny early this morning. For any of you that may not know, she's been pretty darn ill and far away on vacation.

She's definitely on the mend now, but she still isn't able to get out of bed and do too much without getting tired quickly. So she read all the books she had and could get her hands on (that is, all of those in a language she could actually read). Today, after running out out books, she resigned herself to reading O magazine (that's what they call the Oprah mag, right?). When writing me the note, she was in the midst of an article called, "Is your handbag killing you?" A buying guide for bags.

Hell finally has frozen over.

thanks, i'll pass on the fetish party

Every girl needs to have at least one great gay male friend. I think that's a codified rule somewhere, although it may only be in some creepy yaya sisterhood. One of my faves is my hair stylist, who's been cutting my hair for about nine years. Said hair stylist and I usually spend all of my appointments laughing so hard we're crying, which means my hair has a tendency to turn out a wee bit lopsided. But it gives me character.

I have gone out with hair stylist in the past. He is great fun and exposes me to situations I don't normally encounter in my relatively sedate straight world. However, there are always two drawbacks: first, he forces me to wear makeup (ick) and second, he'll always ditch me as soon as he spots a hottie. This second drawback is another one of those codified rules: when you go out with a (normal) woman and she meets a hot guy, she'll say, "Oh, my friend is here, I have to make sure she gets home OK." When you go out with a gay guy, the minute he locks eyes with the hottie across the room, he's already forgotten you exist.

Two weeks ago stylist buddy sent me an email that said merely, "Fetish party Saturday?" Sadly (?), I had family obligations. So when I got my hair cut this afternoon, I asked how the party went. "I lined up to get spanked," he said. "The party was life-changing." He queued for a spanking?! I pondered this for a moment, then decided answers to any of the obvious questions couldn't possibly be satisfying. Instead I asked why the party was life-changing.

Apparently he walked in, alone, and made pathetic conversation with the first hot guy he saw. Hottie was wearing a kilt, and--of course--the conversation went to what was under the kilt, which--also obvious--was nothing. "Nothing" was explored, apparently for several hours. After all of this nothing, hottie said to my gay man, "You have to meet my boyfriend. He's upstairs." So they went upstairs. And a threesome ensued. And it was life-changing. I will spare you the details.

Stylist friend ended this story with, "So you see? Next time you should come."

What, pray tell, do you think I would have been doing at this party? I have no words.

RainyBow

my weekend in the house of hell

So this weekend I decided to do a good deed. A close friend is on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Just to give you an idea, here are a few of the stressors in his life:

- a wife who's got a "disease" (sorry, I can't help myself because it's one of those diseases only recognized by crazy people), is addicted to Demerol, and hasn't worked a day in seven years because she's too sick to get out of bed. She doesn't do anything. Really.
- a small child <1 year old which the aforementioned wife does little to help raise
- a brother who's addicted to various narcotic substances and is currently in jail for a litany of charges that are too disturbing to explain
- parents who've decided they want nothing to do with said brother, one of whom is an alcoholic and insists on driving drunk--while the other has decided it's not worth trying to stop her
- 2 large dogs (one 70 pounds and one 95 pounds) and 2 cats, one of whom is losing his fur from stress himself. Wife does little to take care of them either.
- a massive mortgage carried on one crappy salary
There's more but you get the picture.

I decided to be a good friend and tell him and his wife to get out of the house and away for the weekend. Yes, the wife is one of the biggest stressors, but I couldn't really get her out of the equation without being an ass, so this would just have to do. Here's how the weekend went for me:

Sat, 4pm: arrival. Cats and one dog are restless. Second dog (my little buddy) is so thrilled to see me he will not remove head from my knee. Child is amusing self with paper envelope.

4:30pm: Doing once-around of house. Terrified. The place reeks, the kitchen table has disappeared under mound of random junk, the kitchen counter is completely covered with dirty dishes (while the dishwasher sits empty), the sink is full of brown, standing water, and the fridge contains things that move. There is dinner for me in the stove and I am terrified of heating it up within that den of grime. The bathroom makes me gag. Wondering how human life can be sustained here. Briefly consider hiring cleaning person to come in for day as Christmas present, but realize that he or she would need to come for a week or two to even put a dent in this. Insanity.

5:00pm: Child and I are playing mind-numbing game. I make shapes pop out of game, she pushes them back in. I make more shapes pop out, she pushes them back in. She does not tire of this. May lose my mind.

5:30pm: To distract child from I.Q. sucking game, have now retrieved toilet paper roll from garbage and am balancing it on nose. Child appears to believe this is funniest thing ever. Belly laughter. Note to self that must come over and do this whenever self esteem is low.

6:00pm: Pack up child in Baby Bjorn. Child appears to be teething and unhappy. Am now covered in drool. Leave house to take dogs on walk. 95 pound-dog tries several times to tear my arm off. 70 pound-dog takes pity on me and gives her crap. Passersby find scene highly amusing.

6:30pm: Exhausted from 1/2 hour walk. Feed dogs and cats. Dogs gorge themselves and one cat munches disdainfully. Other cat refuses to eat. I take pity and huge chunks of fur come off in my hand. Cat is clearly very ill. Feed child. Thankfully, child appears to love food. No games are necessary, nor is much wiping. Joyous moments.

7:00pm: Place child in play area. Smaller dog approaches and pukes next to leg. Briefly consider not cleaning up puke since with house in this state, friends may never notice. Then dog begins to eat own puke so I retrieve cleaning implements. Strangely, they are not hard to find.

7:30pm: Back to playing mind-numbing shapes pop-out game. Contemplate whether my repetitive role in said game may cause carpal tunnel syndrome. This could lead to "disease" where could lie in bed doing nothing for years. Interesting option.

8:00pm: Child poops, changing child. Child apparently prefers to be naked. Changing proves to be more difficult than jigzone.com 108 piece swirls puzzle I tackled the night before. Stressed-out cat hisses at dogs. Dogs are frightened by apparition of furless, crazed cat and start barking. So much barking. Kill me.

8:30pm: Give child bottle, put child in bed. Much fussing.

9:00pm: Dinner, movie, snacks. Cat on lap, dog's head on knee. Send text messages to ensure sanity is intact.

11pm: Dogs restless. Strap on baby monitor and take dogs out to pitch black, creepy backyard. Neighbour decides to open back door while am outside and I practically crap my pants. Find amusement in fact that I am supposed responsible adult in this situation.

11:30pm: Alcohol. Needed some.

12:00am: Read some of book, drink tea. Cat back on lap, dog's head back on knee.

1:00am: Hit the sack. Concerned about level of cleanliness of sheets, so am wearing lots of clothes. Ick.

2:00am: Wake up. Eyes on fire. Run to bathroom and see in mirror that eyes are blood red and bags under eyes have swelled to give appearance of ogre. Eager to scratch eyeballs out. Would scream but am afraid to wake child. Dirtiest house in the world has caused massive allergic reaction (I know it is not animals as I have been tested and came up negative). Rummaging through bathroom drawers, looking for allergy meds. Panicking as it is late and cannot pack up child to drive to 24 hour pharmacy.

2:15am: Text any friend who may be awake at this time of night, hoping one will be bored, sober and take pity. One calls immediately and offers to deliver Benadryl. Fantastic, life-saving friend who I will cherish until the day I die.

2:30am: Thank friend profusely, tell several stories about evening, go back to bed.

3:00am-6:00am: Restless night. Little sleep. Bitterness level very high.

6:00am: Child screaming. Eyes have improved but still want to die. Need to get out of house of hell. Pack up child and dogs and head out for long walk.

6:30am: @^%$ cold. Cannot feel butt. Must go back to house and find warmer clothing. Am afraid to wear clothing as it too cannot be clean, but must preserve warmth to remain alive.

Wow, huh?

When my friends returned in the afternoon, I pretended all was well, as any good friend would do. They had a nice little weekend while I struggled to stay alive in their house of hell. Good deeds truly don't pay.

RainyBow

you wanna ride?

When I travelled on business the other day, I had checked in online and printed my boarding pass. Because I had checked in early, the gate number was not printed on the boarding pass. When I got through security, I walked to the digital screens to see which gate I had to go to.

As I was looking, I heard someone behind me say "You wanna ride?". I didn't pay much attention cause why would someone be asking me this in an airport terminal. I then heard the same question, only louder. I turned around to see a middle aged woman on one of those carts they use to drive older passengers, sick people, and unaccompanied children. She asked me again. I laughed and told her I was just looking for my gate and I was ok. She then commanded me to get on the cart so she could drive me. Commanded is the best word I can think of cause it didn't seem like I had a choice. Quite frankly, she scared me.

So here I am - perfectly capable of walking - being driven down the terminal by this crazy woman. I was mortified enough as it was and then she started honking the horn. Beep beep. Beep beep. She was making people jump out of the way during the entire ride. I was completely petrified that I would see someone I knew - EVERYONE in the terminal was looking. I'm sure they were wondering what terrible ailment I was suffering from. She pulled up and did a u-turn right in front of all of the people waiting at my gate. I saw a few smirks.

SunnyShine
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RainyBow note: I wish I could say that I called ahead to arrange this.

tax on the poor

Yesterday, I went to a variety store to buy some mints to mask my garlic-laden lunch. There was another customer ahead of me at the counter; a man in his seventies or perhaps early eighties who was buying lottery tickets. I wasn't really paying much attention until the cashier told him it would be $122. I couldn't believe my ears. The man paid with a $100 cheque (already filled out) and $22 in cash.

Now, I don't know where you live, but here, you can't just walk into some place and pay with a cheque. I don't even think I could name a place that accepts personal cheques. This leads me to believe that this is a regular weekly visit for him and he has something worked out with the store owner.

Thinking about this man breaks my heart. Lotteries always prey on people who have less than others. They use fancy adverting to show you how much better your life would be if you won millions of dollars and could live on a yacht. You can't win if you don't buy a ticket. Hey, even better to buy several tickets to increase your chances. This is how the cycle starts. So, a man who is on a fixed income is spending $500/month on a dream. Is he skimping on food or heat to afford this? Ugh.


SunnyShine

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RainyBow note: If only you didn't despise gum so much. If you were a gum aficionado as I am, the wide selection you would have with you at all times would have precluded this yucky convenience store experience.

Just sayin.'

better not set my house on fire

I know people who have lost their homes and all of their possessions to fire. Fortunately, this has never happened to me. I did nearly set my kitchen on fire a few weeks ago when I set a piece of paper towel on top of a candle. Stupid is as stupid does.

I hadn't realized how much of a bullet I had dodged until I read this article. Apparently, fire is big business in China. I wonder if there is an a la carte menu of favours? How much to ensure that they show up when my house catches fire? Enquiring minds want to know. Perhaps I would be lucky enough to get the one corrupt official who does not require sexual favours.

SunnyShine

i'm in hell

I am currently (right now as I type) on the phone helping a good friend of mine answer the eharmony questions some dude sent her. It's hellish. She wants me to compose the answers for her so she sounds witty and interesting. I think the point is to be yourself. This is lost on her.

We are embroiled in an argument about whether she would prefer to attend a) symphony/ballet/theatre b) a sporting event c) a movie in a theatre d) don't remember this one. The answer is c but she insists that it is a. As long as I have known her, she has been to the theatre once. That once was because I bought tickets to a play and made her come with me. She hated it and was disappointed that it wasn't a musical. I had never said it was a musical so I have no idea why she would have thought that it was. She just informed me that she has been to the ballet once and has never been to the symphony yet she insists that the answer should still be a. sigh

Soon, she will move the conversation into a discussion about why I am not on eharmony and how I should be because youdontwanttobealonefortherestofyourlife.
I'll take the risk. I'm not joining eharmony.

SunnyShine
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RainyBow note: OK, in a moment of boredom, I just went to the eharmony website. Here are two samples of what you can find there:

1. An actual advice column letter: Dear Dr. Warren, I am trying to be very open to the eHarmony process. But am struggling with not taking things too seriously and getting too attached to matches too quickly. Can you help?
This person should not be dating.

2. An article titled "5 Bad Habits that Tank First Dates." And here are the five bad habits:
- don't monopolize the conversation
- don't "over-share"
- don't try to be someone you're not
- don't ignore cues
- don't propose
Don't PROPOSE?! They actually need to give their members this advice for a first date?!

Run away, Sunny. Run far, far away.

scraping the bottom of the reality barrel

Today, I was surfing Sunday afternoon television and happened upon a dating show which featured a bisexual woman looking for love among a bunch of straight men and lesbians. The men and women are competing against each other to be the last man/woman standing. Does it get much worse than this?

At one point, the men had to prove they had a feminine side by parading around in high heels (note: men in high heels are not so attractive), and the women had to prove their strength and manliness by doing pushups. Riveting television, I tell ya. There was even a guy - competing with lesbians for the love of a bisexual, don't forget - who is still a virgin because his beliefs won't allow him to have sex before marriage. I'm not sure how he reconciles his beliefs with what's happening on this program but I'm sure a good confession will take care of that.

If I recall correctly, I think there was even a reality show where a bunch of men competed for the love of a transexual woman, except that they didn't know she used to be a man. The winner found out at the end. Wow.

I really wonder what these people go on these shows for. Clearly, they are not serious about looking for love. Is it the 15 minutes of fame that is appealing? Is it the possibility of winning some kind of monetary prize? I'm not sure how much money it would take to get me on one of these shows. Come to think of it, no amount of money would be enough.

It never ceases to amaze me how people are willing to degrade themselves to compete with 20 other people for a guy or a girl. It would make me feel so good to know that the guy I am dating is also dating 10 other people. And, you can't tell me they are not sleeping together either. Don't these people have any self respect?

You dodged a bullet, Rainy.

SunnyShine

how about doing some work

Why can't people work for things any more? Have the days of saving your money to buy what you want gone away? Here is yet another person who wants something for nothing.

Is having a Coach bag going to change her life for the better? Why not go for the something of some real value, like a condo or a piece of land? If you're going to ask for something for nothing, might as well aim high.

I should try this and ask for a few mortgage payments. I need to retire. Maybe I should rent out my forehead or offer to wrap my car in a tobacco ad. Damn, too bad I don't have any breast milk handy.

SunnyShine
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RainyBow note: OK, the breastmilk story is fantastic. I don't know where WHO news is from, but I want to read it all the time now. I love John Bachman, with his delightful combination of fake tan and spray-on hair, and I especially love that they choose to spell 22 not twenty-two, but twenty-2. Them's some good news there.

the aliens have landed

I took this picture in the middle of the summer, so this is not a Halloween special.

I'm not sure if a ufo landed and the creatures decided to disguise themselves as mannequins to blend in, but it's not working. Kinda hard to picture yourself in that outfit, non?



SunnyShine

this tasted way better than straight ice cream

I took this a couple of years ago in Nepal, shortly before I got parasites. One thing I learned: ice cream, gay or straight, is definitely preferable to parasites.

RainyBow

and here's where you poke a severed foot

I went back to acupuncture today. The good news: although they seemed to have no idea I was supposed to be there, I still got to see my guy. The bad news: despite all of my not-so-secret prayers, I didn't get any more needles than last time.

I got put in a different room this time and this one had a poster of the human body on the wall. Check out the severed foot in the bottom right.


I feel reassured that if my foot should ever get detached from the rest of my body, my acupuncturist will still know what to do with the needles.

RainyBow

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SunnyShine note: Do they make you strike that pose before you get stuck?

i hope never to utter this sentence

After hot yoga on Friday (three times this week - yay), a woman was discussing which package of classes she should buy. (During your intro week, you can buy a package at 25% off the regular price.) She was explaining that she was suffering from back problems ever since carrying triplets and that this yoga was the only thing that made her feel better. She also had another child for good measure. She went on to say that it was difficult for her to get to a class because her husband had to be home to stay with the kids and he was always tired after work. Pobrecito. I'm sure that taking care of 4 kids all day every day is tiring too.

The instructor explained that she should get the package before Sunday so she could take advantage of the discount. At this point, she said the following:
'I have to ask my husband for money'.

Kill me now. I hate the thought that some women have to ask their husbands for money. I would be humiliated. That's probably the idea.

There are women I work with who have no clue about finances or bills or bank account balances. What happens when there is a divorce, death, or serious injury? One even listens to her husband who says not to put money into a tax-sheltered retirement fund. I want to give her an intervention.

My mother (who is crazy) always told us to never be financially dependent on a man. I never will be. It's unfortunate that not everyone can say that. Sigh.

SunnyShine
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RainyBow note: I'm reading Girls of Riyadh right now and I had to put the book down today when I hit the part where one of the main characters (a Saudi girl) agrees to a marriage contract but is unable to actually sign her name "because the Sheikh doesn't want it that way." While her husband signs his name, as a woman, she has to put just her fingerprint in the register.

In a part of the world where women actually get to sign their name, it seems terribly wrong that they don't. Sigh indeed.

i'm sorry, i don't know what "gum chewing" means

A friend of mine went to gospel roller skating last week (yes, as in they play gospel music and you skate). She was surprised to find that the rink had a large number of rules posted, including "no swearing." Even though I wasn't there, I had to steal this image.


Does anyone really need the illustration? Perhaps their research shows that gospel roller skating attracts a recent-immigrant-or-tourist-who-doesn't-speak-any-English kind of crowd?

RainyBow


______________________________

SunnyShine note: Can I get that on a flash card so I can pull it out at any time? I hate gum. I hate gum snapping. I hate gum chewing; it's so undignified. I was even at a wedding recently where a bridesmaid walked down the aisle chewing gum. We're all going to hell.

funeral to be held as a wedding - never beautiful

OK, here's an embarrassing revelation: one of my favourite sources of entertainment these days is laptop bride. I never tire of the masthead with her in that shiny dress with the dead flowers and the creepy lace-o-rama veil. I don't know what this says about my sense of humour, but I think it's some fantastic stuff. Especially when it's far, far away.

But recently she posted some unfunny stuff with this title: Funeral to be held as a wedding -- beautiful. For those of you who are too terrified to view her blog based on my description above (and I imagine that's most of you), the ADD summary is that this 19-year old was dying of cancer in Australia and she met a 20-year old who was also dying of cancer. When the 19-year old took a turn for the worse, they got married in the hospital. Then she died.

OK, so far just a sad story, right? Take a deep breath.... the funeral is going to be held as the proper wedding ceremony she never had. She's going to be taken to her grave in her wedding dress, barefoot (since apparently she wanted to be married barefoot). And the funeral wedding celebration will have six bridesmaids, six groomsmen and a dog carrying wedding rings. Is the dog going to chuck one of the rings into the ground with her?

I really don't know what to say other than thank god for all of this, because really, no woman should be buried without being properly married off. I think I will re-write my will now and leave proper instructions on how my funeral wedding should go. Suggestions are welcome.

RainyBow


______________________

SunnyShine note: I'm speechless.

______________________

RainyBow note: .... because you're crying so hard from the emotion of this story. I know your mushy kind.

______________________

SunnyShine note: I dream of such a wedding. sniff sniff.

why?

In case you can't read what this says, here it is:

Animal Blessings
Sunday, October 14
On the lawn
Bring your pets
All are welcome

I wonder if the animals need to be blessed before Halloween? I can't come up with anything else. Can people bring snakes? What would the priest do if someone showed up with a deadly viper? I am completely against snake blessing. I hate snakes.

No, I'm not bringing Jethro. Yes, I am going to drive by and take pictures.

SunnyShine

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RainyBow note: I'll come by with a random assortment of pets and pick you up. I wonder if my neighbour would lend me his parrot that has an obsession with the phrase "up yours."

______________

RainyBow update: He won't.

'next blog' strikes again

If you are not using the 'next blog' function on blogger, you are missing out. I'm serious. Get on it. (Check the recent post from Rainy.)

Tonight I found this. An entire blog about mashed potatoes???!!! I'm laughing so hard right now. The profile says that he is a 'mash enthusiast' and he has 'random helpful tips'. OMG.

SunnyShine

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RainyBow note: Omg, this is fantastic. A good example of what too much mash can do to your brain. My favourite is that he's actually provided a translation function for the blog, so you can instantly translate all content--recipes and tips--into all kinds of languages, like Mandarin. Because I can just see some guy in mainland China thinking, "wow, this mashed potato phenomenon in North America is so huge and I wish I too could have mash, but I have no idea how to make it." Then he would (of course) know enough English to do a search online, find this blog, and be the happiest person ever when he realizes that he can get an instant, incredibly bad translation of it. Good times.

elimiDATE can eliminate a second date

Like a lunar eclipse or a sighting of Halley's Comet, I meet a guy I deem worthy of a date only extremely rarely. But for the last few weeks I've been having a little email flirtation with a cute boy from out of town, and the emails turned into a date on Tuesday. And the date was a winner. Said cute boy was suitably charming. Potential was definitely there for second date, etc.

Before you stop reading, thinking this is turning into one of those mushy-girl-raving-about-cute-boy posts, let me just cut to the chase: potential blew up in flames today. You see, said cute boy said he had a "funny story" about the "unique experience" he had while a contestant on the show ElimiDATE five years ago.

Now, if he had:
a. told me this story as something he had done when younger and stupid (a la "I can't believe I did that")
OR
b. told me that he had been on a reality tv show without the same shkank factor, e.g. The Dating Game or The Amazing Race or even Survivor,

I'm sure I would have been OK with it. But ElimiDATE?! I am having a tough time trying to think of anything more demeaning.

When I confronted cute boy and told him how I felt, he freaked a bit and said that I was attacking his character (to which I responded that I have no issue with being friends with someone who was on the show; I just don't want to date someone who doesn't understand my issue with it). According to him, I jumped to conclusions based on what the show is like now; he says that at the beginning of the series it was a lot more like The Love Connection than what I'm imagining.

So this weekend I'm going to review some of the early episodes of ElimiDATE, just to be fair. I have a hunch none of it will remind me of Chuck Woolery. We may need to rename cute boy something more like delusional boy.

RainyBow

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SunnyShine note: I'm with you. It's not like this was something he did when he was 21. It wasn't a frat boy dare - he was 30ish. The fact that he would bring it up on a first date is suspect as well. Too many things wrong with the whole thing in my opinion.