Monthly Archives: September 2010

Day 53: Sad Bed? Try CRAZY bed!

You’ll recall that on Day 20 I rearranged my bedroom furniture.

That decision has had consequences.

First of all, it means I’m closer to the paper-thin wall I share with my cray cray neighbours.

At around 3:45 a.m. today, I was roused from my sleep by yelling. I managed to ascertain that the girlfriend was upset  her boyfriend doesn’t love her anymore, and her life is now not worth living…or something. The girlfriend’s voice is shrill and loud, so I really only picked up her side of the story. The boyfriend’s retorts only sounded like the teacher in Charlie Brown (wah wah wah).

A few moments later I felt creepy for eavesdropping (in my defence, it’s not like I had a choice), so I found some ear plugs and went back to sleep.

An hour later, I was once again pulled from my slumber, this time by raucous make-up sex. The ear plugs were useless.

So I listened to my audiobook of The Big Short to drown it out, and fell back asleep. Until my alarm went, I dreamed about JP Morgan, Goldman Sachs and collateralized debt obligations.

My situation is pretty pathetic — I acknowledge that. But the girl next door’s situation is even more pathetic. I mean, the yelling-fucking/yelling-fucking/yelling-fucking cycle may be fun for a while, but after a few years of that insanity isn’t it just enough?

Now on to the second consequence of my furniture rearrangement:

I moved my dresser, which weighs as much as I do, to its new spot in a really ungraceful manner. Somehow the structural integrity of the piece was compromised in the process (not that it had much structural integrity to begin with, being from IKEA and all).

This morning, as I was enjoying my coffee and watching the Cosby Show, I heard a giant CRASH come from the other room.

The dresser toppled over, smushing the shade on my bedside lamp and strewing clothing, jewelry and other detritus around my room.

My life is awesome. Just awesome.

Day 52: Hipster Fail!

I walked to the bar, in my cute outfit and all. Outside there were signs saying our tickets will can be used when Hey Rosetta! come again in December, and that Hot Hot Heat aren’t going on until 11 p.m. There was another act at 10, which I hadn’t heard of.

It was 9 at that point, and I didn’t really feel like standing around awkwardly for an hour to wait for someone I didn’t know to come on, and then stand around awkwardly again until Hot Hot Heat came on.

So I turned around and went home. At least I had a nice walk on a nice, warm night.

Now to change into my jammies and watch ANTM.

Day 52: Sad hipster :(

I bought a ticket to see one of my favourite-ever bands, Hey Rosetta! (the exclamation point is part of their name, but also the punctuation mark that best describes how I feel when I listen to them).

I checked out their website to confirm the time and place and discovered their (very attractive) lead singer is sick! Poor guy! So they’re not playing after all.

My quandary is whether I go and see the headliner, Hot Hot Heat — who I’m sure will put on a stellar high-energy show, but aren’t one of my favourite-ever bands — or just call it a night and get my beauty rest.

On one hand: I have to be up at 6:30 tomorrow, I’d be going to the show alone and I’m not sure Hot Hot Heat is worth it without one of my favourite-ever bands opening for them.  

On the other hand: I’m single and I could meet cute boys, I’m antsy and want to dance, I’ve picked out a cute outfit, and I’m not sure Hot Hot Heat isn’t worth it.

I guess I’m really afraid of missing out on opportunities…to meet someone, specifically. I want to be in the right place at the right time, and I know that isn’t at home watching America’s Next Top Model (guilty pleasure).  What’s the worst that can happen if I go? I stand awkwardly by myself with my arms crossed and don’t have fun?

Fuck it. I’m going.   

Day 50: What I deserve

I have no desire whatsoever to get back together with him. I suppose I deserve props for that.

But I’m not really in a good place today.

I guess  what I’m obsessing over is why on Earth I stayed in the relationship so long. How long would it have dragged on had he not ended it — totally unilaterally —  50 days ago? How long would I have stayed in what was basically a sexless relationship before I was tempted to stray? How long would I have subverted my adventurous, outdoorsy, wanderlusty side before the resentment devoured me? Did I really prefer being unwanted, undesired and held back to being alone? What’s wrong with me that I was willing to sell myself so short? Am I that girl?

I’d really like to take what I’ve learned from this experience, and from other failures, and make sure I do things right if and when I meet someone else. But I really, really don’t trust my own judgment. At all. I have a pretty good head on my shoulders when it comes to most things in life: I’m not in debt, I keep myself healthy, I’m gainfully employed, I have good friends. But when it comes to love, I’m just utterly delusional. I always promise myself that I’ll keep my wits about me next time, but over and over again I end up crushed and disappointed. Despite his assessment of my character, I am inherently an optimistic person, but it’s getting harder and harder to stay that way.

I just don’t get how I can do this again.  I don’t get how people meet the right people and marry them and procreate. I know it happens, but I just don’t get how. I don’t know what it is to be in a happy relationship.

***

On a happier note… I went to see Arcade Fire the other night and it was AWESOME. Such a great, cathartic show. It was super fun, even though I had spent most of the day leading up to it nursing an epic hangover (that’s another story for another time). I was kind of hoping to run into the hiking guy who lent me his socks, who I knew was going. Just to see, you know? But I didn’t. There were a lot of people there. I was a little disappointed, but not overly.

Seinfeld Shoes (how he’ll henceforth be known) “liked” my Facebook status, which was something about being excited for the show. Why he felt the need to weigh in, I don’t know. And then later his status was about how he’s the only person he knows without kids who didn’t go. He’s sort of indifferent towards music. He certainly doesn’t care for live music.  I, on the other hand, am passionate about music. My entire inner monologue is set to a soundtrack. Music connects to my soul at a very deep level. So why did I think I could make it work with a guy who’s out of sync with me in this very fundamental way? At least I don’t have to avoid any of my music collection because of him…

Day 44: Never say no to panda

So he sends me the link to this hilarious, but puzzling, video today.

My reply: “Hey! That’s like me after being dumped! (he he he…too soon?)”

I know it’s catty, but I just couldn’t resist. How does he expect me to respond to these bizarre little missives?

***

Totally unrelated: I had a very powerful dream last night that I’m struggling to remember. And no, I’m pretty sure it wasn’t that kind of dream. All I know is that I woke up with this overwhelming feeling of being in love… that giddy, bubbly, warm, out-of-control feeling. It may or may not have involved a man with a beard.

Day 43: Plenty Offish

This is a major step backwards.

I was curious to know if he’s back on Plenty Offish again (that’s not a typo, but a nickname a very witty friend gave the site), so I searched for all 30-year-olds within a certain radius.  My profile is still hidden, so I don’t think there’s any way for him to know I’ve looked. Man, I hope he can’t see that I’ve looked!

Is this weird? It’s weird, isn’t it? 

Turns out he’s been online today. His profile is virtually the same. Doesn’t seem remotely as funny as it did when I first saw it, just under a year ago. There are also some mistruths, I realize now. He does not have an “athletic” build. Not at all. He does not run everyday. He runs every now and then, and not very far. He does not have a graduate degree, but rather two undergraduate ones, neither of which has any use in the real world. He is a good cook — I’ll give him that — but he most certainly does not cook elaborate french meals every day. He’s got the same two photos up, which only kind of look like how he actually looks. None of it actually seems like him at all, frankly.  

I bet he’s already been on some dates. And  I bet that they’ve been train wrecks. I bet he’s been on dates with bland, clueless 22-year-olds who bore him to tears, but who think he’s totally awesome. I bet he keeps going on these dates, because he figures he can’t do any better.  I bet he suggests going to the movies, since that’s all he ever seems to want to do.

That was a depressing exercise. If that won’t keep me from online dating, I don’t know what will.

***

In other news… I ended up going to my first Meet Up hike yesterday! It was raining like a muthafucka and freezing as hell. By the end my boots were going “squish squish squish” with every step.  However, it was fun. The people I went with were very cool, actually. The guy I carpooled with had an iPod full of amazing music. And another thing… I stupidly left my spare set of socks in my backpack, so they got almost as soaked as the ones I was wearing… so he lent his spare set! Chivalrous. Check. Good taste in music. Check. Attracted to him? I dunno. Attracted to me? hard to tell. Single? I think so, but I dunno. An encouraging sign that I’m not going to be Mopey McMoperson forever? Yes.

Day 41: How many spinsters does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

The light in my front hallway burned out about a week ago. Over and over again, I’d flick the switch and find myself still in the dark. It was a sad state of affairs.

If he still loved me, I would have enlisted his help. Come to think of it, if I had called him today, I bet he’d  have obliged. But I’m too proud for that. So I did it myself this morning.

Now, I’m a diminutive girl, so it wasn’t easy. I was standing precariously on a chair, and still the light fixture was just barely within my reach.   

I wonder if he’d have felt guilty if I had fallen to my death.

So anyway, a five-foot-three spinster can screw in a lightbulb perfectly well on her own. Thank you very much.

Another thing I did alone last night: go to a concert. There was this great band playing called Library Voices, and I tried to coax friends into coming with me. No one wanted to. So I went on my own. It ended up being a blast! It was kind of awkward between the opening act and the main event. So I just played Brick Breaker, and ended up beating my previous high score. Awesome.