Fortune's fool

My girlfriends and I went to a psychic on Sunday.

So...of course next year is going to be better. It can always be better, but better than deaths and heartache? I'll pay double just to hear that again.

It's almost like a drug…ummm more like a placebo. We believe what they say We believe so much that we know what they say will come true.

Self-fulfilling prophecy?
Fortune-telling?

I was told I need to quit my job. I've never had anyone tell me something so concrete and urgent before. Nothing will happen until I quit, allowing myself to focus on what I want to do. He said 2 months tops and I'll have what I want. Provided I quit. How much weight can I really put on the words of a stranger? Is my need for a safety net negative energy, doubt? or is it smart practical living?

Instead of cards or the palm.
I wish I had a DeLorean.

Yup!

I did it.

I bought a condo…or simply the promise of one. It doesn't exist yet, which is a little inconvenient but there are certainly benefits. The main one…I have time to sort out my employment situation. And an exciting plus is that I am able to choose all of my finishings. Floors. Cupboards. and Countertops. Oh my!

I struggled with the decision beyond the far-off closing date. I feared being on the wrong side of gentrification. My new neighbourhood is my old neighbourhood. What will become of it? With the appearance of a Starbucks a few years ago, the neighbourhood has been progressing from dirt-town hipster mecca to gallery-heavy yuppie town with a steady pace. But this condo...the first in the hood, will bring with it an influx Young Urban Professionals in one fell swoop. It'll be the YUPpie invasion.

Hide your lululemons. They're coming.

Yup. I'm one of them.

Taking responsibility

So there I was writing a post. A post about my current struggles with remaining positive. My impatience with those things just out-of-reach.

What a downer.

Then I noticed that Stacy, my favourite blogger, mum and distributor of champagne had contributed to her blog. You could jump ship and follow the link or if lazy has invaded, the punchline is simply,

You are personally responsible for everything in your life, once you become aware that you are personally responsible for everything in your life.

Her blog is sometimes like the red bull of life philosphy.

Gives you wings.

Rent-a-family

Family dynamics…diverse and evolving.

My family was like an island. No extended on this side of the ocean. I really never knew what it was to have grandparents. Aunts. Uncles. Cousins. I've got, but in a distant kind of way.

Now, as five has grown to eleven in a short time, all of those roles so foreign to me are ever-present in members new and old.

My parents have revelled in fleeing the empty nest. My brothers have started their beautiful families. I'm left…looking for a family portrait to creep.

Don't feel sorry for me. Really. I like the independence. I LOVE the love I have for the babes. It's simply another reality of being the youngest by quite a few years. Too young to play. Watching and waiting. Not rushing.

Learning.
Loving.

Aphrodite cooks?

Months ago, in an effort to take the bull by the horns I suggested to E that we take a singles' cooking class. November felt so far away…and yet last Friday feels like yesterday. It was a superb experience.

We paid $100. And saw every penny in value.

The night began with white wine sangria served to us by the resident mixologist. While the chefs prepped the kitchen, we were encouraged to socialize donning aprons that frankly, made me look like a Keebler elf. So much for giving any thought as to what I was going to wear.

We were divided up into 3 teams…I lost my crutch in E. Although, I had a fun group. We were charged with the pumpkin-stuffed canneloni, braised kale and shaved brussel sprout salad. I scooped pumpkin, boiled pasta and rolled canneloni. I could have done more but the warnings of lost appendages due to sharp instruments guided me to the more blunt duties. Blunt and I…we're friends.

One chick went a little far with the whole damsel in distress routine and actually sliced off some finger. I hope it was worth it!

Prep area turned into dining room as we enjoyed a great meal prepared by our fellow singletons. We followed dinner with drinks at a local with some of the male "chefs". No sparks, but there was beer, pool and Celine Dion on the jukebox. Good times.

www.aphroditecooks.com

Baby love

I have a new nephew today.










This is the fourth baby in my life. How lucky am I? I love being AUNT. More than friend. Sister. Daughter. Co-worker. Girlfriend.

I always wondered how a parent could love the second child as much as the first…and so on with those that follow. How does that game not get old? Love.

Let me tell you that with the birth of each of these kids I could physically feel my heart grow bigger. Never choosing, simply making more room.

Thanks brothers…and sisters.

Mazel tov!

Not-so-lonely planet

We're going on a trip!

K and I have booked our tickets to an exotic locale. Much needed, but a ways away.

Just the other night I was freezing on my friend's balcony, just reflecting and feeling good, I looked up and saw a plane. I felt that thing. That thing people feel when they want to go. Go far, far away. Everything here is fine, but sometimes you need to step back to really appreciate. This step is roughly 8,600 kms away. More like a really big leap, yes?

We have 3 months to psych ourselves up, and trim ourselves down. By then, our lives will be so amazing the escape won't be necessary...just a really nice alternative to snow and minus degree wind chills.

¡Vamenos!

Supply & demands

Last night was my third attempt at buying a home. Each time, each place I have been a little more smitten than the last. This one though, was special. "Most unique find in Toronto"...thanks MLS. And to make matters worse, I was close.

I'm not sure where I stand in the spectrum of difficult buyers…I'm sure if you ask my agent she'll tell you. Seriously though I'm a girl of simple tastes. I have 2 pocket turn-offs about these new modern buildings:

1) The waterfall in the lobby - These maintenance fees are absurd and I'm paying for a waterfall…no thanks! Especially one that I'll see and cringe at everyday knowing I'm subsidizing such a ridiculous extravagance.

2) The bowl sink - You know, the bathroom sink that sits on top of the counter like a bowl? How dated is that? So what you're saying is I'm paying all this money for this uber modern unit, only to have to re-do the bathroom in five years when I want to sell? They might as well have avocado green appliances in the kitchen.

I certainly have my wish list though, and the 2 things that top it are location and balcony. Neither, am I willing to settle on. With location, I have become a little more open-minded since the hunt started, but will not veer outside my bubble. With balcony, the bigger the better. Everything else is negotiable.

It's a really competitive market right now in Toronto. Lots of buyers. Few sellers. Multiple offers.

Broken hearts.

Thanks Bob

"You may not be her first, her last, or her only. She loved before she may love again. But if she loves you now, what else matters? She's not perfect - you aren't either, and the two of you may never be perfect together but if she can make you laugh, cause you to think twice, and admit to being human and making mistakes, hold onto her and give her the most you can. She may not be thinking about you every second of the day, but she will give you a part of her that she knows you can break - her heart. So don't hurt her, don't change her, don't analyze and don't expect more than she can give. Smile when she makes you happy, let her know when she makes you mad, and miss her when she's not there."

-Bob Marley

When there's nothing left to burn, you have to set yourself on fire

So as many of you know I've left Facebook. I've been impressed by the response. Praise. Anger. Concern.

It's a social experiment in a way. Our friendships have gotten so lazy…I don't need to interact with you, the person, anymore because I interact with you, the facebook profile, daily. I don't need to hear about your trip to New York because I already saw photos.

Soon after letting my friends know about my grand exit. Some I talk to everyday. Some I haven't spoken to in years. All I love. I received some truly warm messages, and woke some friendships that had gone into a Facebook coma.

Thanks for the concern…but I'm doing alright!

By the by, I do acknowledge the irony or possible hypocrisy of preaching the good word of one-on-one communication using a blog, but hopefully this tool serves as a stimulant for good conversation rather than a substitute for it.
________

P.S...N, you're right, you do make a good blocker.

Beer pressure

Last night I went on another date.

This meeting was heavily anticipated amongst my girlfriends…they take an active role, which is why I love them. Usually on a Wednesday night, they help vet the inbox…and sometimes they develop crushes and push certain suitors over others. This guy was a crowd favourite. No pressure.

We've been chatting for a little while now and just haven't nailed down a meeting. Finally we settled on this Thursday. Although he had apparently double-booked which threatened the sanctity of our date. No problem, we would meet before his prior engagement.

He never made it to the other thing. I'm that good.

Beer helped on both ends. Him to talk less, and me to talk more. Hard to believe, I know.

Second date material. Yes.
Weekend-worthy. Not yet.

The F word

I'm a bit of a passive online dater.

I sign in every few days to vet my PoF inbox. I go through the messages and cull the fat…my standards are somewhat tyrannical. If the salutation includes a 'sweetie',' hunny', 'babe' they are cut without remorse. Any sign of moving emoticons or 'gifts' such as virtual roses, CUT! As mentioned previous, if the message does not include a reference to my profile…strike, but in that case if the guy is cute I will forgive this transgression.

If their message passes all tests…and doesn't give the sense of desperation or over-confidence I will look at his profile. Now, looking at a profile is a wee bit dangerous because they can see who has creeped them out…and yes, that has led to dejected messages in my inbox when I don't contact them upon peeking at their info.

So if the message and profile leave me thinking "why not?", I will send them a cute but short message including my msn address, so we can chat further without the tackiness of the PoF interface. One piece of advice that I have been given was to not chat too much online…after screening out total weirdos set up a face-to-face right away. You don't want to have too firm of an online rapport…a person can rely too heavily on emoticons.

That being said, I did not waste any time with my first 3-D suitor. He messaged me moments after creating his profile on Sunday. We ended up having drinks on Thursday night.

The meeting itself was good, especially for my first experience. We had lots in common. He's from Ottawa, I lived there. He works in TV, I like TV. He's the youngest of 3, me too!

He was not afraid to tackle subjects like religion, politics and exes. I yadda yadda'd religion by speaking to my love of jew culture. I gave a hold no bars stance on Canadian politics…meh. And completely avoided past relationships, even changing the subject when he brought up his. Too much too soon, my friend.

Friend. Yes, that's how I felt about this guy. Really nice, pretty smart, no edge. No spark. I'd love to get together for drinks again, but totally as friends. I got the sense he's that guy. Sounds like he may have quite a few platonic girlfriends…it didn't turn me off, I simply knew why.

Off the track and into the lion cage

So last night my girlfriend and I went to a social networking event for young professionals. Sounds like a wild time, yes?

We knew there would be wine, canapes, and Eternity. There was that…and lots of women. I would say the ratio was 3:1.

The organizer made her way through the crowd taking photos. She asked a group to the left of us. To the right. In front. Behind. Each time excusing her way past us. We began to develop a complex. The pattern then became obvious…she was targetting men. We later learned she wanted to present a gender-balanced impression online to attract more men. That logic is certainly lost on me. Most guys I know know a little bit about gambling…they like 3:1 odds.

We looked around careful not to make eye contact with the wrong person. Oops. Too late. One fellow approached us wearing a blazer 2 sizes too big and with cooldude oakleys on his head. Quickthinking E excused herself to the ladies' room, and I in toe. He was not a fair sample of the male attendees, but possibly offered the best material.

We mingled. We sampled. 3 wines and their pairings. Although, 2 of the 3 canapes were not kosher, and so E turned out to be a very hungry young professional. Alas, after we lost the door prize draw of the Calvin Klein Eternity gift pack (I was robbed!) we bee-lined it to our favourite sushi joint and soaked up some more good conversation.

I'm glad we went. I suppose we could have skipped the entry fee, gone to a bar and ordered-in sashimi, but where's the experience in that? Trying new things is what this solitary life should be all about. This is about me. This is about defining who/what that is. Not in the context of another.

And that, my friends, is the moral of this story. Kinda.

The axis of survival

I feel like I've spent a lot of my life searching. Job. Home. Love. The axis of survival. The trinity of happiness.

Since leaving school I've been on a series of job contracts. Some impressive, some simply necessary. I'm good at what I do…maybe just not as good at the game. On the hunt for satisfying full-time employment.

Since leaving home I've rented a series of apartments. Some outstanding, some simply shelter. I've had a wonderful roommate for 3 years, but now it's time to go it alone. On the hunt for my condo.

Since forever I've mostly been single. Mr. Canon was an exception to my consistent status of solitaire. I liked the digression, but he wasn't IT. On the hunt for a good guy with a mean piggyback.

The parallels are scary. Having an idea of what I want but trying to keep an open mind. Waiting for that feeling. Finding the 'one' and then losing it to someone else. Security being the prime motivator.

I'm on the market. I'm in the market. I'm over the market. The market doesn't stand a chance!

Foreign affairs

The newest addition to our 'sorority' is not from here, although we try not to hold it against her. She's on exchange from Denmark, and naturally, as it were, has befriended other international students. Male ones.

If tall blonde swedes aren't your thing, there's always the scruffy carefree aussies, or the fair-haired chiseled danes, or the...well you get the idea.

Now, to someone with different motives than myself this would appear to be a super opportunity to play. Play with really attractive foreign boys with temporary interests. I say boys because they are on average 23 years old...5ish years my junior.

Unfortunately for them I'm not interested in anything short-term with anyone younger than me. So...playing to me remains pg-13 and a great way to spend my nights out.

Skål!

File under Y for borrrrrrrring

Last Wednesday, coupled with our seemingly ritualistic Top Model night, the girls and I did me up a profile. Wine was drank, a profile was created and the inbox started blowing up. A week later the inbox has slowed down some. I suspect the PoF regulars have virgin notifications and they systematically message the newbies. I'm old news now :)

I don't think they realize the frequency and sameness of their competing messages. They all say the same thing, "Hey...read your profile...would like to get to know you. Message me back if you're interested." YAWN! borrrrrring. Call me demanding, but make an effort to get my attention. Say something about my profile…say something different.

Anyway, that first night 2 profiles struck my interest so in the spirit of proactivity I messaged them. One of them has since deleted his PoF account. You think he liked me that much?? Or he's just not in the online game anymore. I think the latter is more probable.

Who knew I was monogomous in online dating? One at a time, guys…this girl cannot multi-task!

Toeing the line

Mr Canon and I broke up 2 months ago. 2 years gone...and in the past, yes?

The time has come to begin auditions for the new man in my life. Queue up fellas! I'm a hot ticket and won't stay on the market long. Hah!

I've decided to go online…works for finding apartments, used furniture…why not love? I'm certainly no stranger to the worldwide web…checking facebook multiple times a day, everything-blackberry, and well…I keep a blog. BUT online dating is something I've never been able to embrace entirely.

Years ago upon graduation I signed up after working my way through my social network :) and then my roommate admitted he had seen my profile online days ago and thought not to mention it. People I know can see me?? Forget it!

Then, last summer Mr. Canon and I had broken up for a little while (I could tell then it was true love…hah). Four weeks in, thinking that was a sufficient moratorium I signed up for LavaLife. The next day he called me saying he had seen my profile and it was unacceptable that I used a photo he took of me. We got back to together soon after…and well we all know how that worked out.

Here's to different results!