Stuff Me Up

It has been a tough Christmas this year. Parents are getting older, dynamics shifting, people growing apart; situations more forced and artificial than they used to be. Many things changing; nothing changing. And me being completely under prepared for it all.

Yes, this time something has been missing. Something has been lacking. And I think it’s the joy and pleasure. It’s also the first time I’ve noticed the emptiness. Was it due to a lack of children? I swear to God, for the first time in my entire life today, I seriously considered the prospect of having a baby. Those of you who know me, will know what a huge revelation that is. It’s all part and parcel of this massive gaping hole that has been in my life the last couple of months. One thing which living with my sister has made glaringly, glaringly obvious to me is how incredibly selfish I am. A decade spent fighting for myself and looking out for myself and no one else has done nothing to improve my compassion or empathy. And growing up in a compassionless house with a mother who showed her love through money or food, I have been horrified lately to realize that I am turning into her more and more every day. But sadly, I am not adopting any of her good qualities (work ethic, generosity, drive) only her bad ones. And that annoying quote of being careful what you wish for has been swirling around in my head for the longest while. Because I have gotten everything I’ve wished for and it has turned out to be as thin and useless as wet paper. There is nothing of substance or value or real weight in my life; nothing which is a testament to me as a person or which showcases my accomplishments or worth or purpose. It just seems all so weak and tenuous and precarious. Maybe I should volunteer. I don’t know, I just need something core-shaking to come along soon, or I am going to end up going out and getting myself knocked up. And I think we all know that that’s not the solution.

I have also realized this year that I really don’t think I’m much of a relationship person anymore. The last seven years of my life, I have been wanting and needing that, thinking it would be the end-all of my life; that I could find happiness if only I could find someone to love me. That my life would start once I snagged me a man! But the older I get, the more men I meet, the more horror stories I hear of the shoddy way we all treat one another, I can’t help but think, why bother? Time and again this year, I have poured my whole self into so many men who don’t deserve it, and been left bruised and battered. Why on Earth would I want to keep putting myself through that? And lately, now that I am having phenomenal sex with a no-strings man, I am happier than ever. Maybe I should become a confirmed bachelorette? Maybe I should run down the street and throw my hat up in the air like Mary Tyler Moore…

Great, now I'm a modern-day Murphy Brown.

So is all this emptiness coming from the lack of relationships in my life? And my solution is too fill it up with no maintenance ones? Hm. And maybe this is all just a knee-jerk reaction to a Christmas which was less than fulfilling. A time spent watching my dad slowly and quietly disappear, a mom lose her zest for life and a brother lose his wife. The title of this blog should be, ‘Love, What Is It Good For?’

Christmas seemed like more of a chore this year; an obligation; something to get through. And the things which I USED to thoroughly enjoy no longer do the trick. Stuffing myself up with mom’s homebaked goods—although delicious—don’t satisfy me in the same way they used to. This is a good thing, of course. But it’s also kind of sad. The end of a long and buttery era. These days I’d honestly rather have a salad! And THAT is progress, my friends. And you know what Bill Heslop says, “You can’t stop prawgress.”

So you know, that’s my little nugget of hope. A place in which to start over again. The New Year is just around the corner. And the great thing about that is that every January first is a Clean Slate. Another chance to pick yourself up, dust yourself off and start all over again. Stuffing yourself up with whatever you need to make it through; stuffing yourself up with bullshit and false bravado until you start to believe it, until you start to make it. Until you stop needing anyone else to do it for you. And THAT is the relationship which needs to be nurtured and tended.

Three cheers for the clean slate, people. Hip, hip hurrah!

My Own Private Amazing Race...

I'm a big fan of the Amazing Race. And part of the thing that's so great about it, is that at the end of a long, hard leg, the contestants get to jump onto a mat where a handsome man named Phil gives them a welcome, a ranking (first, second, third place...) and sometimes even a prize.

And the last episode of the show is even better because they have all the previous contestants (which they have already beat out) lined up and clapping for them as they victoriously run to the finish line. And Phil yells above everyone else's screams and cheers and joy: "So-and-so, After 28 days, 14 countries, 4 continents and over 72 000 miles around the globe YOU! ARE! THE WINNERS! OF THE AMAZING RACE!!" And then they get a million dollars! Man, what a sense of accomplishment they must feel! Talk about taking care of business! I was just sitting here thinking how much more productive we would all be if we got that sort of recognition in our own lives.

And winning the million dollars aside, talk about the value of having someone else not only appreciate all your hard work, but categorize it so succinctly like that... The truth is, don't we ALL need a Phil to greet us at the mat?!

Well, I'm on the homestretch. Only a few long and agonizing days until the end of THIS leg of my own private race. Am I pregnant? In the hospital? Waiting for a heart transplant? No. I'm a teacher and it's only 5 days until Christmas... And on Friday, when I finally make it onto my mat at home, I would really appreciate some of the love that Phil bestows upon his peeps:

"Karen Rowe: After 4 months, 108 journals , 31 book projects, 84 Dracula recipes, 36 school plays, 16 debate meetings, 5 tournaments and 70 parent-teacher interviews... YOU! ARE THE WINNER OF...NOTHING AT ALL! A PAYCHEQUE AND TWO WEEKS OFF WORK!!!

There are no free trips, no free all-terrain vehicles, no opportunity to see the world, get to know your partner better, or have the experience of a lifetime. No, most of us are the unsung heroes in our own lives. I'm sure it's the same for you too. You stay-at-home moms out there don't have people clapping and announcing all of YOUR accomplishments. '259 diapers changes, 54 disasters averted, 32 spills cleaned up, 14 fights broken up and...."

Well, all I'm saying is, wouldn't it be nice to have a mat we could jump onto victoriously and people to cheer us on? So to all the unsung heroes out there, HANG IN THERE. You're certainly the winners in SOMEbody's eyes, whether or not they ever say it, or ever even acknowledge it.

Merry Christmas, everyone!

God Bless Us, Everyone...

So reportedly, women reach their sexual peak at 32. And all I have to say about that is, BRING. IT. ON! That's only 6 months away! I think we are all well within the sexual peak window. So enjoy, ladies. enjoy...

It's Not Me, It's You...

(with help from Guest Blogger, Jane)

Dear Mike:
S’up dog? Whatcha got planned? Nothing? Ok, let’s make some unconfirmed plans and I will fall asleep and break them. Can I leave you hanging with nowhere to go, and nothing to eat or drink on a Friday night? Then later, I will see if maybe you'd like to pimp out a few of your friends or have your face kissed like it was in a car wash. Let me know how I can confuse your life, or be any more spineless and indecisive than I already am.

Call me!
Karen

Oh, Turtles...

What, pray tell, was wrong with the old Turtles packaging?! I enjoyed having the box of chocolates, off which you could lift the lid, and pick out whichever Turtle you felt like eating. Now, those suckers are like Fort Knox! They are iron clad! Why oh why did the marketing Gods see fit to individually wrap each Turtle, and put them in an upright box with a little side part that slides out?! Is it easier? Is it more convenient? No! If anything, it just makes you feel guiltier for eating so many at a time. And let's face it, no one ever has just one! It's like some sort of new-fangled 'to-go' pack. Like, 'Oh, you're on your way out the door to finish up the last of the Christmas shopping. No time to eat? Grab a Turtle and off you go!' Please. I know the truth. You are sitting on your couch watching Charlie Brown and chowing down. And if you're at a party?! You used to be able to just open the box and set it out on the table. Now, it's so high maintenance. All having to unwrap each individual Turtle. It's like some sort of new weight-loss measure, a deterrent, even. And it's so noisy and crinkly and obvious! Like there's no way to eat one discreetly. Everyone knows: you are about to have a Turtle. Crinkle. Crinkle. But, you know, you'd think the Nestle people would want easier access to their product! And in the interests of OUR ENVIRONMENT, I think they should go back to the old reliable, easy-access Turtle Box. What you gonna do, all that extra wrapping?! Call me a chocolate slut, if you will, but I'm all about the easy access! I just hope they don't start doing the same thing to Toffifee...

GUTTER BALL

I am completely disgusted. DISFUCKINGGUSTED! I am all for giving men the benefit of the doubt, and as with everything in my life, I apply to them the philosophy of aiming low. The lower your expectations, the less likely you are to be disappointed. I have successfully applied this philosophy to almost everything in life: travel, work and especially men. And I think we can all agree that I have put up with more than my fair share of shit.

So I met a phenomenal man last Friday night after our staff Christmas party. It’s only been a week. I have no expectations or delusions about a ‘future together’ or anything at all. I have learned to go with the flow and respond to their signals. And of course, to aim low. But just exactly how LOW am I supposed to go? After our initial meeting, which incidentally was like a chemical reaction—hot and explosive—we had a somewhat awkward and distant conversation, which he finished by suggesting we go to a movie. So, I waited the acceptable 4 days before calling him last night with a plan. I was a gal with a plan! And it was a good one! I suggested that the two of us go with some mutual friends to see the movie ‘Blood Diamond’ opening tonight. I thought this was perfect. A good movie, no pressure, mutual friends, good times…We had a great conversation, but unfortunately, he wasn’t be able to come tonight because he had plans to go to the hockey game already. This didn’t surprise me as it was already Thursday. We made alternate arrangements for next Tuesday, as he is going out of town this weekend.

Well, I just found out that there IS no hockey game tonight! Sale menteur! And I only even found out by accident! One of my students mentioned that he went to the hockey game last night, and I said ‘Oh, there’s one tonight too, isn’t there?’ Well, no there isn’t. I checked and rechecked about 15 times and with a hundred different sources. And I am so DISGUSTED because there was ABSOLUTELY NO REASON TO LIE. Why not just say, ‘Sorry, I’ve already got plans’ ?!? Why fabricate some stupid FUCKING bullshit story?! And after a week, I certainly don’t expect that I be the only person he is dating. He doesn’t have to rub my face in it, but he doesn’t have to lie either. So there is aiming low, and there is dating in the gutter. I am so completely unseated by the whole situation. Do I honestly not deserve better than two-timing, mean, cruel, bad-kissin, bad lyin’ sons-of-bitches?! Fucking hell.

Today, I’ve got a face like a slapped asshole. And am completely disgusted with all of mankind.

So, our lyrics of the day! Compliments of Annie Lennox, the only thing to have saved me from jumping off a bridge this week:

I don't need a heartbreaker
Fifty-faced trouble maker
Two timing time taker
Dirty little money maker
Muscle bound cheap skate
Low down woman hater
Triple crossing double dater
Yella bellied alligator...

That woman is a salve! Other soul-savers:

Lifted
Little Bird
Pavement Cracks
I've Tried Everything
Waiting in Vain
Power To the Meek
Bitter Pill
Savage
Loneliness
Erased

Are you there, Blog? It's me, Margaret.

I have always been a Passion Over Reason kind of gal. With the last guy I was with, for my own safety and sanity, I had to squelsh the Passion and look at things reasonably. Reasonably, this man was nothing other than a glorified bully. And a waste of my time. And let’s not forget that all of his issues had (repeat after me, girls) NOTHING TO DO WITH ME. So why am I having such a hard time getting over him? Why am I constantly having to remind myself about all the bad things that happened because I catch myself whimsically reminiscing about the ‘good old days?’ Like the 2 of us used to spend our time frolicking through a field full of daisies or something. Please. Get over it, already!

And I am terrified. I am terrified that I will call this man up and beg him to take me back. I am terrified that I won’t call him and I’ll never hear from him again. I am of course afraid that I will spend the rest of my days bitter and alone. I am afraid that it will all be my fault. But that’s the passion talking. The reason keeps reminding me about all those other fish.

My sister finally asked me the other day how far he would have to go before I said enough was enough. She asked me what my baseline tolerance was. I couldn’t answer her. A couple of years ago, I could have answered without batting an eye. Because a couple of years ago, I had no tolerance at all. Any sign of trouble, any whiff of a red flag, a mere HINT of bad news and I was gone, out like a flash, through the door and into the woods. No time, no time to tolerate any of your crap. It was my way or the highway, buster. Except of course it was all an elaborate wall, a way to protect myself from getting hurt. And a way to keep me single for years at a time. So, once I figured out that I was my own worst enemy, I took the wall down. But now I have completely swung the other way. And let go of most of my rules and boundaries. Which has left me WIDE OPEN for ill treatment. One of the rules I live by is that we teach others how to treat us: And lately, I’ve been telling the men to treat me badly. I might as well be wearing a ‘kick me’ sign.

And this whole thing has left me wondering, what happened to me? What happened to the opinionated, no-nonsense girl who put up with no bullshit from no-BODY!? Where did she go? Part of me really misses her. That bitch in me. I miss her courage and her fearlessness. When did I get so scared? Where is the girl who would have stomped around and MADE MEN ACCOUNTABLE?! Now I find myself forgiving men their sins and worse! Completely siding with them! So clearly, the not-having-boundaries thing just doesn’t work for me. It’s fun for about a week.

I guess that’s one of the luxuries of being young and seeing everything in black and white. It was ignorance. And that sense of having all the time in the world? That confidence that everything will work itself out? Ig.nor.ance. Because tick, tock, tick, tock, ten years later I don’t have the luxury of believing that I can leave it all in the hands of Fate. I am supposed to be living my happily-ever-after. In the meantime, here are the lessons from 10 years ago that I have needed to relearn:

Relationships 101:
# 1: You will not find a loving, committed relationship in the bar.

#2: Putting out on the first night will make the relationship (if there is one) all about sex.

#3: Men won’t respect you if you show them they don’t have to.

So yes, rules and boundaries are all your baggage disguised. But they DO serve a purpose. And that is to help you figure out which of those fish in the sea is the right one for you. I still think it’s important to have fun and not overthink things. Especially when all that fun is helping you to get over someone else. So go out, live it up, drink one-too many tequila, but girl leave that man at the front door and walk yourself home. Get his number and call him LAY-TAH! You can take a couple of alka-seltzers in the morning and the bad taste left in your mouth won’t be from shortchanging yourself of a little love and respect.

Songs for today:

‘It’s Hard Out There For a Pimp’ 3-6 Mafia
‘Use Me’ Al Green
‘I Still Miss Someone’ Johnny Cash
‘Don’t Go Home With Your Hard On’ Leonard Cohen
‘You Got Me’ The Roots
‘I Need A Man’ Eurythmics

I Am A Total Convert.

Ok. So I realize that it’s 2006. Almost 2007. But I have never been big on purchasing things over the Internet. It’s the old lady in me, who always kind of mistrusted the whole idea. Giving away my credit card number to the anonymous masses has never sat very well with me. Also, until last year, I didn’t even HAVE a credit card, so it was kind of a moot point. The usual fears of what-if-someone-gets-my-number swirled around in my head. Mostly though, it’s just been plain ignorance on my part, never ever having actually purchased anything over the internet, I just never really saw what the attraction was. Until now, that is…

First of all, it does indeed help to have a computer which runs on something OTHER than a hamster and a wheel. Secondly, it helps to have a credit limit of more than a hundred dollars. Yesterday, I did half of my Christmas shopping in about 45 minutes, without even having to leave the comfort of my office chair. First, I renewed my dad’s subscription to Time magazine. Then I went and bought a reflexology gift certificate for my mom. Then onto the Theatre Calgary website to purchase ‘A Christmas Carol’ tickets for our Christmas Family Outing. Then, dad wanted A ‘best of Victor Borge’ DVD. Which brought me to the Mecca: Amazon.ca. Where I purchased gifts for 3 more people (ie: alla you folks readin’!) Now, the clincher is that it seemed a little too easy. Is it possible to have everything that I have been looking for right here at my fingertips? All those obscure, hard-to-find items (Let’s face it, HMV does’t exactly have a Victor Borge DISPLAY or anything) and delivered right to my home in 3-4 business days? For free?! Impossible! Too easy! So, of course, I had to go find a harder way to do it. I needed to test out this new-fangled "Internet buying" idea. What if it’s cheaper in the store? Also, I am all about the instant gratification. So I thought, ‘oh, it’s not the same as going into the store and having it right away. And what if it doesn’t get delivered on time?’ So I refrained from completing my Amazon order and after work, I trudged down to my local Chapters store, where after wandering around the busy store for 20 minutes, trying to find a computer that worked or a salesperson to help me, sweating away in the overheated store, I realized I could be sitting at home drinking Baileys and watching TV. Only to discover—FINALLY!—that they didn’t have ANY of the 3 items I had been looking for, anyway AND they were more expensive than they had been on the Internet! Plus it was cold and dark and traffic was bad and it ended up being a COLOSSAL waste of my time. So, that was the clincher. I’m all for the joy of taking the time to shop and touch things and spend time picking out ‘just the right gift.’ But fuck it. I have more important things to do: like work my way through that big bottle of Baileys…

Happy shopping.