Monday, January 28, 2008

Call me crazy

On Friday I read in the paper that, "a study has found that when people are feeling socially isolated, they attribute human characteristics to their pets, or even to electronic gadgets". The article offered the relationship between Tom Hanks' character and Wilson, the volley ball in Castaway as an example.

Today marks the second anniversary of the day I drove Truck home. To honor the special day I picked up my sister and we went through the McDonald's drive-thru for raspberry pies. On Friday I also treated my shiny metal friend to a wash.

"In the first, volunteers completed a survey about four gadgets, including Clocky, a wheeled alarm clock that "runs away" when you try to turn it off, and Pillow Mate, a pillow that can be programmed to give "hugs." They also completed a loneliness questionnaire.

Lonely people were more likely to assign the gadgets humanlike traits such as having "a mind of its own," the researchers found."

The defense rests her case.

Hey Wilson, pass me the ketchup! Loneliness can lead people to humanize pets and objects. Shannon Proudfoot, The Winnipeg Free Press. January 25, 2008

Sunday, January 27, 2008

Super Sunday

Another fabulous day. Here are the ingredients:

  1. Sleep in
  2. Eat leftover ham and pineapple pizza from Casa Grande for breakfast
  3. Pilates class that is not too hard, not too easy
  4. Sunshine. Lots of sunshine and -5 temps
  5. Drive to the mall and even dare to roll the window down a bit. Mix well with good music.
  6. Shop like I don't have a mortgage
  7. Garnish with a new pair of boots

Saturday, January 26, 2008

Shoegal steps out

It is 1:33 am on Saturday*. I just got home from meeting Mr. Blue Eyes. I had been thinking about the meeting a lot during the week going between fits of nervousness and excitement. By Friday I was ready for anything.

I wore my black, long sleeve-off-the-right-shoulder top with dark wash Guess jeans and round-toe black boots. I decided it might be nice to give myself a manicure. Manicure was completely destroyed after wrestling with the straps of the special bra required for wearing an off the shoulder top. I removed all traces of nail polish and departed.

Mr. Blue Eyes was there first. When I arrived I looked forward and thought I saw him, but wasn't sure. Then I looked to my right and he was walking towards me. I was glad I was wrong with the first guess. Blue Eyes is tall, but I knew that. His profile said he was 6'5. I do not encounter many people an entire foot taller than I am, so before the meeting I held a ruler to the top of my head and tried to imagine what this would look like. It looked very high.

Shortly after we sat down, three girls he knew walked up to say hi. He told me they were just trying to embarrass him, because he usually does it to them. I felt like I was being sized up. I tried to sit taller.

We ordered the nachos and drinks. I stuck with regular iced tea because I didn't want to end up sleepy or overly chatty. He went with beer. He seemed nervous, which made me relax a little. He was cute and agreeable. Very open and frank.

The conversation was sporadic but not painfully awkward. I was surprised at the number of interests we had in common, but I was getting frustrated with myself because I couldn't seem to remember details to anything--basic stories, favourite movies, books. Everything seemed to come out flat or anti-climatic. Further complicating things was the fact that it was so loud in there it was hard to hear and I started to lose my voice. I had switched to water and was sucking up the melting ice cubes to try to soothe my throat.

By one we were both tired. Magically, the waitress reappeared and left us the bill.

Outside, I deeply inhaled the cold air and we walked toward his car first. He offered to drive me to my car, and so for the third time in my life I accepted a ride from a person I barely knew and lived to tell about it. I am sure there cannot be a fourth time.

The car ride was my favourite part of the night. Finally, it was quiet, and some how I didn't feel like I had to say something interesting or funny. I relaxed completely and I think he did too.

He plugged in his iPod and searched for this funny song to play for me. I'm not sure what made him pick the song, but I thought it was kind of nice he had a soundtrack in mind for the end of the night.

I had parked about four blocks away (I always manage to find the farthest possible parking spot).

He pulled right up to Truck and put the car in park. He offered his hand and said, "thank you" and then he asked for a hug. I said, "sure," because it seemed appropriate, but I think he thought I was agreeing to be polite.

Neither one of us said, "see you later" or anything to suggest that we'd see each other again, so I'm not really sure what will happen.

I came home, changed out of my pretty clothes and into my pjs, and started up Mac, knowing that Vince and Rob, and you guys too, would be waiting for the story.

I realize now that online dating is kind of like setting up your own blind date. It's asking a lot to put together two people who have never met before and hope that they can find some way to connect and capture one another's interest. Then again, attraction can take a while to develop the old fashioned way too.

Imagine instead that the cute singles had met while out with a group of mutual friends. They might have been surprised and intrigued by the new face at the table. After deciding that the new person seems to be friendly and quick with a good comeback, maybe they start stealing glances or trying to engage one another in a one-on-one conversation. And maybe, if the personalities were agreeable, a spark would fly, and the two people would go home with a secret smile and the hope that they will meet again soon.

Maybe next time I'll bring my friends.

*Note that I edited and added to this post a few times after publishing it.

Thursday, January 24, 2008

Sounds like a plan

After feeling blue on Monday, I decided to book this Friday off. Here are my plans for a fabulous Friday:

  1. Sleep in
  2. Wash Truck
  3. Get Hair cut
  4. Hang out with some friends
  5. Meet Mr. Blue Eyes for nachos

Monday, January 21, 2008

When it hurts to laugh it means that it was worth it

I hurt. Self-inflicted pain, mostly. I knew it was coming. On Saturday I went skating at the Civic Centre arena. It had been a while since I last laced up my skates. I had two goals: don’t fall, and don’t take out any little kids.

One out of two isn’t so bad.

I tripped on my toe picks. (Yes, I still use figure skates and no, I didn’t get the toe picks shaved off. What if one day I decide I want to do a double toe loop?) As I was falling I could hear Moira Kelly calling out “toooooooe piiiiiiick”. I fell forward, which some how seems better than landing on my back side. But I bruised my knee.

On Sunday I had Pilates. We were working with some new equipment and trying new things. Usually it takes about 24 hours for the stiffness to set in after a tough work out. I was feeling it already on the way home and I can still feel it today.

Thursday, January 17, 2008

Self Love 101*

(*Dear God this is going to attract a lot of dirty-mind traffic.)

I wanted to write this post yesterday, but I didn't have time.

One hundred (and one) days ago I visited 43things.com and made a list of things I wanted to accomplish. One of my goals was to be open to love. After some self reflection I was feeling that I was trying harder to stay single than I was to find a relationship. So I called the goal, "I am open to love" and I set up a daily e-mail to remind myself everyday to be open to love. Here is the note I wrote for myself:

Dear future self,

Remember to love yourself. Remember that people love you.
Remember to glow. Love will find you.


Sincerely,
Your past self
I read that note everyday for the last 100 (and one) days. Some days were harder than others and I did not want to read my note. I wanted to tell myself, "I know, I know, love is all around, yadda yadda". Some days I read the note out loud (quietly, as I usually read it at work). Some days I would read it slowly and kind of meditate on the words. I really like the word "glow" and I really like the last reassuring sentence. And I really like that I started the whole thing off with "remember to love yourself".

Anyway, so what were the results? Well, after 100+1 days of self love, I think I did find some love. Okay no, Prince Charming did not bang on my door on day 100, but some other things, and not all romantic things, seemed to show up that really made me happy and glow-y.

Thank you.

I love you.

You know who you are.

Sunday, January 13, 2008

Going fishing

Readers, I know, the blog has been rather dry lately. Where, you ask, are the embarrassing moments, the Jillisms, the boystories? Has Jill been living under a rock lately?

Since coming off of the holidays season the story mostly, it seems, has been work. And that's really not a terribly interesting story so I've been restraining myself from mentioning it here.

This weekend I decided to do something about the slumping plot line (heh, maybe my writers went on strike too). A couple of my guy friends were encouraging me to put a profile on a dating site. Last Saturday I even boldly suggested we have a race to see who could get the next date, and then the next relationship.

One of the guys is already far ahead. He was chatting with a girl for a bit and now they have a date lined up for this week. My friend has a new glow about him. It's really nice to see him in such high spirits.

On Saturday morning I checked out some of the profiles on the site. It didn't take long for one to grab my attention. He had the most beautiful ice blue eyes...

So I signed myself up in the "looking for people to hang out" category. I'm still not really comfortable with the online dating thing. I just don't think it allows for that casual, in-person kind of interaction you have with someone offline that allows you to get comfortable with him and figure out if you actually find him attractive more than physically. I am always open to meeting new and interesting people and then hey, who knows, so the "hang out" category seemed best.

I got a fair number of hits in the first 30 minutes. The first thing I noticed as I checked out profiles is that there are some old looking 27-30-year-olds. I looked at them and thought, wow, I don't think my friends look like that. I guess for starters, my guy friends are all very lucky to still have good heads of hair. But then again, it's hard to see how the people you've grown up with have changed over the years.

Once I had my profile set up with pictures posted, I sent a message to Mr. Blue Eyes. He wrote back with some questions and I responded. Then I went out for the night.

When I got home I checked my mail. No note from Blue Eyes and the number of new guys sending me notes had diminished drastically. Hm. So I decided to add more info to my profile.

Sunday morning came. I had some notes back from a few other guys I had written but still nothing from Blue Eyes. Boo.

I scanned some more profiles. It seemed that a lot of guys were on there looking for an escape from "drama, mind games, liars and cheaters". Wow. There must be a lot of shallow and fickle women in the city. How sad. There also seemed to be a number of guys who obviously spend a lot of time at the gym (which seems to me like a good place to meet like-minded people, but apparently not). Although I don't usually go for this type, I messaged one who was working on his masters in economics. He wrote back and wants to chat sometime.

Sunday night, after doing all the things that needed doing to get ready for Monday, I checked my mail again. Mr. Blue Eyes wrote back! He's asked lots of questions and sounds so friendly. I will take some time to consider my response.

Monday, January 07, 2008

Materialistic, or something

I am concerned that I am a tad, a wee bit, that I show tendencies, on certain occasions, towards being materialistic. I love things dammit! I don't love acquiring things, I just feel very attached to the things I have. Sigh.

Tonight I was dishing up some chocolate mint-chip pudding. This pudding is only available in America and it is very tasty. I spooned some pudding into a small cup, which was actually a Chinese or Japanese (uhg, now I'm an ignorant materialist) ceramic tea cup. My mom gave me the tea set when I moved out as it was only sitting on a shelf in the basement at her house. I don't plan to have any tea ceremonies, but the cups are very cute, especially as small bowls.

Anyway, so I put the pudding into the cup and then moved the cup to the corner of the counter. Not paying attention to what I was doing, I placed the cup at the edge of the counter and it slipped off, hit the floor, and broke into many pieces. Pudding splattered on the floor, cupboards and the mat in front of my sink.

I was upset, but I couldn't decide which I was more upset about:
a) That the cup my mom gave me broke, and that now I would never ever again have a complete set of 8
b) That I lost 1/2 cup of the best tasting, only-available-in-America instant pudding
c) That I had a huge mess of pudding to clean up on my kitchen floor and floor mat
d) That poor children in North Africa will likely never know the joy of chocolate mint-chip pudding

I will learn to let go
(after ensuring that the object I am letting go of will not fall to its untimely death)