State of affairs

Last time I checked in, things were looking promising for a dating story. Well, as jillstories tend to go, this one had a rather abrupt and mysterious ending.

When we last traded messages, Facebook Flirt and I were supposed to meet for a bike ride sometime. That was on a Thursday. He changed his Facebook status the next day but apparently hasn't been online since. It's been two weeks.

Jill: Sure. We could ride sometime. Can we get ice cream too?

Facebook Flirt: ya foresureee babe sounds awsome i'd love it,,,, should i change my status to in a relationship:P

Jill: No no, don't do that yet or I'm not showing up!

Facebook Flirt:jk calm down sweets;)

Yes. You'd think I'd be the one playing Houdini. Well, that's what I get for thinking I can outwit, outlast, outplay. I can now only speculate. I've decided there is a 50% chance he is simply unable to get online. He hasn't blocked me on MSN or Facebook, and in fact there hasn't been any updates on his FB page when previously he was adding applications and changing his status daily. This optimistic view is my Princess Bride theory. Remember the scene on the hill when Buttercup realizes the Dread Pirate Roberts is actually Westley?

Westley: I told you I would always come for you. Why didn't you wait for me?

Buttercup: Well, you were dead.

Westley: Death cannot stop True Love. All it can do is delay it for a while.

The other option is that FF really was just a flirt, or perhaps he was actually a 55 year old divorcee who gets thrills out of picking up 20-something year-old girls by using a picture of his nephew, in which case I'd be fortunate that he's disappeared. For a really interesting yet crazy story like this, go here.

I'm going away for the long weekend. I hope to spend a lot of time by myself, reading, riding my bike and watching clouds go by.

Prince Charming and Little Miss Not-so-Much

I know, summer is winding down, days are cooling off. Did you read any trashy novels? Did you have that summer fling with the hottie at the beach? No? Well, neither did I. But I do have another one of my infamous boy stories for you.

About two weeks ago I had a random guy add me as a friend on Facebook. I figured he was random but I played coy and asked if I knew him. The Facebook Flirt replied,

this is a random hello sweetheart ;) sorry we do not know each other yet

I checked his profile closely. He is good looking, kind of Colin Farrell like. He has a big interest in horse racing and doesn't enjoy reading. There was mention of a long term hospital stay and something about drinking. Trouble incarnate was my first impression.

I noticed that he had a large number of Jills and Jillians in his friends list. I had to wonder if I was part of some new collection he was starting. Jills, or at least this one in particular, do not enjoy being part of a series. We like to stand apart. We are very competitive.

I questioned his intentions to which he answered,

noway, you are just way cute. i wanted to try and converse with you

I could tell this boy had it in his head that he could make me swoon. While the idea of a cocky and flirty boy is appealing, they never seem to have much going on past their arrogant outer shell and really are best left to the girls who want attention, not connection. However, I wasn't about to take lightly the fact that he thought he could play me because frankly, I know his game and I think I can play it better. He wanted a conversation? I was going to call his bluff. I replied with,

Online communication and internet based social networks have changed the way people build and maintain relationships. Discuss.

I figured he would give up right then and there. If it was an easy connection he was looking for, I was obviously not going to be the one to give it to him. He had added several other Jills after all, surely one of them was finding herself smitten with his charm. But he did not give up, he did not give in to my request either though. He asked for my MSN name so we could chat and presumably, discuss.

Still looking to prove my point, I gave my info to him.

The other day he caught me online. I asked him if I was going to get my conversation. I had to remind him of the topic, but he came through actually and we had a pretty good chat. He's really kind of sweet and says he's looking for a special girl. I told him he was a charming flirt and he was shocked.

"I find you extremely likable but not so much charming. See, that wasn't flirty," he said.

I laughed. I have never been so flattered and amused by a criticism. I took no offense as really I wasn't being my typical sweet self. Not this time. Not with another flirt. I had music on and at the time Stone Sour was playing an acoustic cover of a Chris Isaak song.

No I don't wanna fall in love
[This love is only gonna break your heart]
No I don't wanna fall in love
[This love is only gonna break your heart]
With you

Chris Isaak -- Wicked Games

***

I rode my bike to my parents that night. I really enjoyed the ride so when I came home I changed my Facebook status to "Jill is loving riding her bike again." Facebook Flirt right away sent me a message saying we could ride bikes together sometime. I replied today and agreed, on the condition of also stopping for ice cream. So I think we're going to meet up next week sometime. Who knows what may happen next.

"Better get that looked at"

I came home today to a weird noise. It was like a cricket trying to break a Guinness record for longest chirp. I managed to trace it to the basement, somewhere around the furnace and hot water tank area. I looked around, not sure what exactly I was looking for, and then the noise magically stopped. Satisfied, I went back upstairs. Of course, the noise came back and has continued to intermittently sound throughout the night.

Tracy called me around 5pm to ask if we were still on for tonight. I had promised her I would cook dinner and then we could watch The Hills season 3 premiere. I had really been looking forward to the evening. Ask anyone at work, I told them all about my plans. I’m such a dork! So yes, of course we were still on.

I had taken out pork to thaw with plans of trying a recipe for Pork Mango Salad. It was super simple and tasty looking.

When she got to my place Tracy had to vent about work and the parents. She just bought a new bed for herself but mused that maybe she should have bought a futon to put in my spare room. We’ve always been close but it seemed especially nice that I can now offer her a place where she can relax a little but still feel at home.

My salad turned out great and Tracy was impressed. We headed out shortly after 8pm for Dairy Queen so we’d have a cool sweet treat to enjoy when the show started.

Just before we left I complained about being itchy.

“What’s your problem?” Tracy asked.

“I don’t know! I’m just crazy itchy!” I said, wondering if my Poison Ivy Paranoia was coming back.

As a joke, while I was on my way out the door and she was already jumping in the car, Tracy called out loudly, “Better get that rash looked at!” Then she noted more subtlety, “oh whoops, your neighbour is right there.” We just smiled and waved.

“You have to tell me where to turn,” Tracy said on our way back.

“I don’t really know…”

“You don’t know how to get to your own house?”

“I don’t usually go this way!”

We did make it back in time, having found the right turn-off (remember the Co-op gas station). Back home in front of the TV and between commercial breaks we talked about friends and guys. I was once again comforted when I realized how well my sister knows me and how she’s not afraid to give it to me straight instead of being diplomatic.

As she was leaving she said, “Yeah, that noise is definitely coming from the basement.”

“That’s one persistent cricket I have down there.”

“No, you know what it sounds like? Like when a belt in your car is going, y’know?” No, I didn’t know. Tracy’s the expert on driving dud cars (I’m sorry, but it’s true). I didn’t really want to hear that it sounded like something from the basement no less, was going. I haven’t had the air conditioning on for a week, is it just trying to remind me that it’s still there? I hope I can worry about it later. I was planning to get the furnace checked and cleaned in the fall.

If I can block out the noise and get a decent sleep tonight, or even if I can’t, it will still have been an absolutely wonderful evening.

Mac n'Cheese

There is a new guy in my life and it's about time I officially introduce him. His name is Mac.

Before I moved I was researching my computer options. I wanted a laptop because I liked the idea of portability. I like having the freedom to work while sitting on the floor, or with my feet tucked up in the chair, or while lounging on my bed. Someday, when I have the financial means to travel again, I will want to blog and connect with the people back home while on the road. And so, the laptop seemed the obvious choice.

After a month or more of talking with the guys at the computer store my dad deals with at work, I finally decided on the PC laptop I wanted. I had looked at Macs but never considered them seriously as they always seemed out of my price range. A few weeks ago, when I went into the store to order my computer I got distracted by a flyer showing a Mac laptop for only $100 more. I was intrigued. The guys brought one out for me to see, touch, admire. I went home that night decidedly undecided. but it didn't take long before I convinced myself to take the leap over to the Mac world.

Mac is definitely different from what I'm used to. I worked a bit on Macs in college and used Vince's affectionately named PoBo a few times when I visited him. Between him and my graphics designers friends in the Artshoppe at work, I figured I had enough help at my disposal.

There are still some things about Mac I just can't figure out but I have all my basic needs taken care of. As long as I can blog and go on the net I'm happy. My favourite non-essential perk is how very Carrie Bradshaw I feel. Yes, I agree, Mac and I were made for each other.

My yellow wallpaper

Oh my God. What are those spots? Were they there before? I’m itchy. I’m itchy. I’m itchy all over. Is that a rash? I’m itchy. Make it stop.

This is my paranoia. No, I’m not in detox for a crack addiction. Not even for a Facebook addiction. This weekend I went out to see my parents who were camping near Carmen, MB at Stephenfield Provincial Park. The place has more Poison Ivy growing than grass. I have never suffered from a Poison Ivy reaction, but I’ve seen my mom with her eyes swollen nearly shut as a result of a casual encounter with the stuff. I’m pretty sure I am one of the lucky ones who just isn’t sensitive to it (I can’t understand why, my skin is rather sensitive otherwise) but I still worry that one of these times I’m going to get it. On Monday night I even dreamed that I developed the red, bumpy rash while at work and I got sent home in case it was contagious.

I think I just need a vacation. I’ve been working myself up into a tizzy worrying about things, even more than usual. I’m not sleeping well. I am actually cursing the short work week because I just don’t have enough time to do what needs doing before Friday.

I’m itching for some time to relax.

There are things in that paper that nobody knows but me, or ever will. Behind that outside pattern the dim shapes get clearer every day. It is always the same shape, only very numerous.

Charlotte Perkins Gilman, The Yellow Wallpaper (1899)
http://www.library.csi.cuny.edu/dept/history/lavender/yellowwallpaper.pdf

Words to live by

It is 8 pm and a comfortable 25 degrees. There is a breeze that is only noticeable when I look up and see the trees move. I have found the perfect spot to sit and think, read, blog. I'm sitting on the front step of the house with my back against the door. The overgrown cedar and pine hedge provides an effective screen from the traffic on the front street (not that it's that busy). I finally have some time all to myself but I am happy to share some of it with my friends.

This morning I was reviewing some articles at work--editing for grammar, style and mechanics. The articles were written by financial advisors and submitted for approval to send for publication. usually the pieces are pretty dry and not well written. Sometimes I learn something about investing or money management. Today I came across the word intestate. I had never seen the word before. I first thought it was a typo but spell check didn't seem to have issue with it. So I looked it up.

Intestate: to die without a will.

Actually, the formal definition is, to die without a legal will, and the origin of the word dictates that it be taken in the context of last testaments, but I prefer the more simplified version because it allows for some interesting thinking (I think).

Intestate: To die without a will...to what? A will to live? To die? To honour? To love? To fight? To learn? To believe?

Your financial planner will tell you that you don't want to die intestate because it will mean that determining the distribution of your assets then becomes the responsibility of a probate court. By my definition of the word, I wonder if it is possible to die without being intestate. If you're dead, you've given up the will to do something, haven't you? But who cares, you're dead! The bigger concern I think is if you're living intestate, because if you're going through life without a will, good or bad, where does that leave you?

You're never too young to plan for your death, and you're never too old to find a new reason to live.

Not exactly noble or anything, but here's one reason to live: live for days when you come home wondering how exactly you're going to pay all those bills that come with moving only to open your mail and find a cheque for $820.58 from your lawyer's office. I phoned my parents and told them I won the mortgage lottery.

The cash is a refund of sorts. Before taking possession I had to write a cheque for the rest of the down payment plus property taxes, lawyers fees, and an estimate of the interest due to cover the period between taking possession and my first mortgage payment and a bunch of other stuff. Or something like that. Anyway, usually they over budget so once the paperwork clears you can get some money back. I had completely forgotten about this until I saw the cheque. Tie that with the surprising news that my $0.20 off/litre gas card does not expire this month (as it says on the back of the card), with only half the limit used, but in fact will be of use until August 31, 2009 and I am feeling pretty lucky. Maybe I should take that cheque to Vegas. Or do I put it in my will? :P