Chain of desire

Last night I visited one of my regular drinking spots. Due to the warm weather, I decided to ride my bike there. After a couple, my friends and I made the move to another bar. I unlocked my bike and as I pulled it away, the chain snagged on something and came off the sprockets (yes, that is what they are called, I googled it). I called to my friends 'hey, wait up, I have to fix my chain!' They stopped and made their way back to me. As this was happening a group of 3 women walked past us, on their way into the bar. One of them turned to me and offered to fix it. I glanced at her and told her that was a very nice offer but I can do it. I looked at the chain and realized my hands would get pretty greasy doing this. My cute little soft hands. I hesitated. The two security/door guys outside handed me a cloth napkin to protect my hands. I thought it strange as one of them earlier was chatting about building a bike for someone, but hey, I guess chivalry is dead. I took the napkin and grasped the chain when suddenly the woman that offered her services earlier came back out of the bar and told me to stop what I was doing. I looked at her. She was all corporate-power suit-heels-feminine-sexy as hell. She ordered me to flip the bike over. I obliged. I offered her the cloth napkin, she waved it away and grabbed the chain, pulling it over the sprocket, black grease all over her hands. In 5 seconds, it was all over. She released the bike, said 'there you go'. I handed her the napkin to wipe off her hands and thanked her. She told me it was not a problem and smiled as she handed me back the greasy napkin and went back into the bar. I, stunned, walked my bike to the next bar, a little smitten, a lot aroused and with a story to tell.

War wounds

The other morning I woke up, mouth dry, skin puffy and crying out for moisturizer, my brain scrambling to adjust to the harsh reality of afternoon. I started preparing my smoothie in my mind — blueberries, bananas, yoghurt — adding the ingredients until my mouth started to produce fluid. I got up. I stumbled out of bed and stumbled to the kitchen (what up Dolly!) and prepared my miracle drink. The whir of the blender made me stumble to the bathroom for an Advil, where I looked at myself in the mirror. Gasp. The horror. I smoothed my hair off my face and noticed a huge bruise on my wrist. What the? I flashed back to the evening before. Me sitting with a friend at the bar - drinks - oysters - more drinks - oh blahblah is here, yeah! - more drinks - hey there's blahblah and she brought blahblah with her - oh I love this song, let's dance - more drinks - let's share a smoke - ooh that blahblah is cute - more drinks - I can't believe blahblah just did that - more drinks - leave with blahblah - make out with blahblah - leave blahblah's - stumble into taxi - stumble up the stairs - stumble into bed. Hmm. I was stumped. It could have been from anything! I couldn't figure it out until I went to write an email and as my wrist touched down on the desk I realized the bruise was from hitting the bar. Drink to my lips -  drink down on bar - wrist hits bar - repeat 17 million times. Yikes, I was so embarrassed and thought I should reserve my spot at rehab! Then I thought, meh, it could be worse, it could be a bruise on my ass from sitting too much on a bar stool, I mean, at least I got around.

Friendship, cocktails, doubt, oh my!

Last night I went to my neighbourhood bar where a good friend works. I sat on my usual stool, exchanged some pleasantries with my friend, squeezed a lime into my promptly delivered vodka & soda and then took a sip. Ah. I needed that. The bar was busy, my friend had little time to chat so I got on my phone to see what people were up to. I needed to be entertained. I messaged another good friend to see what she was doing. She told me she was at another bar playing trivia. Then messaged again asking if I wanted to join them. I got sad. I felt unloved, insecure. I thought, why didn't she invite me earlier? We always went to trivia together, I thought this was our thing? By the time I got there, if I went, it would be almost done. So, I politely declined but continued to feel sad. I confided to my bar-tender friend and took comfort in my cocktail. I was in a rut and continued in this self-imposed rut into my second drink when I decided to message her again and ask how come she didn't invite me? She messaged right back saying she was with people that I didn't know, old friends and that I shouldn't be sad. And suddenly I wasn't. I understood. I wondered why I wasted almost an hour being sad, I should have questioned her right away. She sent me another message saying next time she would be more reassuring. I laughed out loud, and replied back "well, now you know better!" Then I looked at my bar-tender friend and said "Barkeep, I'll have another!"

40

The other night I met this woman. At some point during our conversation, I asked how old she was, as I inevitably do. She said 29. She asked me the same question. I took a breath, then said 40. She barely flinched, but looked at me and said 'really?' but I didn't buy it. I said yah. She bought it. I took a big gulp of my vodka soda. Um, hello? I look young...that's what everyone says. That's what everyone has said for years. How dare she digest so smoothly my 40 year oldness. pfft. I mean really. I took a breath, excused myself, went to the bathroom and looked in the mirror. How did this happen? My whole adult life people have constantly told me how I look younger than my age. I always shrugged it off, oh please! You flatter me! OH psshaw! You're silly! I mean really! Stop, just stop it! And in one night, it all came crumbling down. My first impulse was to share an intimate bath with a toaster. But I then I thought about it. I realized that this was a relief. Now I can let those white hairs that are showing up in my hairline show, I can stop doing shots at last call, I can stay home on Saturday nights and watch SNL and I could stop pretending that I understood Nicki Minaj. I was finally free! I'm 40, I feel 40 and I look probably somewhere around 35 ;)

Emoticon rescue

The other day I made a faux pas. A text faux pas. You see, I got a text from this woman, a woman I don't know well, in fact we only met once and we spoke professionally, although there was an underlying chemistry. When I responded to her text I ended it with a winky face emoticon. Yikes. I meant to use a happy face emoticon. I didn't mean to flirt. I could have flirted — I mean, I might have wanted to flirt, but I'm not sure. It was too soon, it was out of context, it was too forward. And now it's not like I can text back saying 'hey, I typed a winky face, but I meant to type a happy face, so....'. That will just make things worse. So, now I wait, wait and see if it goes unnoticed, or noticed. Maybe I will tell this story on our wedding day? Maybe this faux pas is cupid working his mysterious ways? Or maybe I will never see or hear from this woman again. And maybe, just maybe, I'm ok with whatever happens next.

Facebook cycles of life and love

I'm always at a loss for words when I see a Facebook friend change their relationship status to 'in a relationship' and immediately start gathering 'likes'. What are these people liking exactly? And why is this Facebook friend needing people to 'like' their relationship? What exactly is going on here? Is this about approval? Are they liking the fact that their friend is capable of getting a man/woman? Are they relieved that now they won't have to listen to their friend's constant moaning about how they can't get a man/woman? Congratulations, someone wants to sleep with you more than one time!! I really don't see this as a great accomplishment. And why do these people care? Does this really have anything to do with them? Are these the same people that when their friend changes their status back from 'in a relationship' to 'single' a few months later, 'like' it all over again but comment: "And by like I mean DISLIKE!" or they type a row of hearts, or "You're better off alone!" Really?...but but but you liked it when they were in a relationship. Never mind that the person they were in a relationship with was a complete ass/cheat/bore/smelled bad/talked too much/insert flaw here. It's over. But hang on, all is not lost, in a few weeks or months or days they will meet someone else and change their status back again to 'in a relationship', and you can 'like' it all over again like it's the first time you've ever liked anything.

Will work for inspiration

I am self-employed. I have been for awhile, but recent events have got me thinking it might be time to get a job — or move to Europe. One being the loss of one of my biggest clients (they hired an in-house designer). I started thinking about what I would like to do. Besides the obvious of getting a graphic design job, or something in production. I mean, what interests me, where do I see myself next? I began thinking about jobs I've had in the past and remembered some of the well, more interesting ones. Oh, you want me to tell you about them? Ok, I will. Here goes. A long time ago, a young, fresh faced Jenny answered the call to protect her community. She stepped up, swallowed her pride, put on a big security shirt and some mittens and guarded a container of frozen turkeys at the local Safeway. I was turkey security. You see, one year before Xmas, there was a scare, someone had been injecting turkeys with poison, so they hired a whole whack of young people to stand around 'guarding' these turkeys so no funny business could occur. Twelve - 8 hour shifts in a row in the freezer section later — I couldn't look at a turkey for months.
Next came this friend of mine who worked for a market research firm. Their company was studying cigarettes. They needed people to conduct a 'smoking study'. This entailed wearing lab coats, interviewing subjects that took home a pack of different cigarettes each day. Needless to say the kind of people this attracted as subjects were, well, interesting. The subjects came in and we asked them questions about the cigarette's taste, it's draw, how fast or slow it burned, etc. Of course all of us went on the study too. Hey, free cigarettes for 2 weeks AND we got to wear a cool lab coat! We would have dance parties during slow periods and of course, chain smoke — hey, we had to! I can't say I couldn't look at a cigarette again, but hey, how can you compare cigarettes and turkeys? They really have little in common. Although both jobs left me with a sore throat. Anyway, my dear blog readers, please keep me in mind if you hear of some job that is interesting, wacky or creative, it might just be right up my alley.

Social Media 1, Jenny 0

I ran into this woman last night that I've had a crush on forever. This woman is not on Facebook — for whatever reason — she isn't. So, I only know her from the last time I saw her, you know, like in the olden days. She is the kind of woman that makes you feel like a 13-year-old boy. The kind of woman that makes you feel nervous and shy and insecure, the kind of woman that feels 'out of your league'. In all my previous encounters with this woman, I've kept my distance and when we did communicate, I made sure to keep it short. One time we were on a dance floor and she danced up to me and tousled my hair and all I could do was stare at the ground like some nervous teenager. I got so shy, so soft. For those of you that don't know me, I'm not usually this way, if I like someone I will make a play, do something, make a move, put myself out there, but this girl, I don't know, she is different. But last night after some encouragement from my sober friend, I made a play for her, to no success, in fact if you were there blog readers, well, you might be embarrassed for me. I'm embarrassed for myself, but for the sake of story telling, I will go on. It was like I asked her out, then quickly talked her out of it. Yes, I had had a few cocktails at this point. It's all sort of a blur now.... So, I wandered home, tipsy and alone, oh wait, I hailed a cab after a couple of blocks because it was cold. As I stumbled up my steps, I couldn't help but think if she was on Facebook I would know more about this woman. Have some background on her that could make me more successful or if by knowing that background might make me not interested in her in the first place. And maybe I feel this way about this woman because I don't know if a cat playing with a turtle makes her smile or if she cares about shit that girls say. Running into her was the only shot I got and I blew it. I can't post something cute on her wall now, can't write something witty that makes her laugh. She can't see how cool I am, she only knows the awkward, shy Jenny I present to her. As I unlocked my door, I thought about the days before Social Media. We had to listen more. Pay more attention to in person encounters — interpret signals. And perhaps that was more interesting. Then I thought, maybe it's just me — then I ate a piece of toast and went to bed. This morning I got up, wrote this tale and posted it in hopes that you will all still love me.

DUMPED!

I  got back from Vancouver last night. I was there visiting my family for the holidays. The night I arrived, I arranged drinks with a bunch of old pals. Some couldn't come and one of my oldest friends was one of them. I was disappointed. Mostly cause I kind of got the feeling from the excuse given that this friend was just not into me anymore. This friend had moved on. I will admit this friendship has been getting less close throughout the years and neither of us have put in much effort to keep it alive. I had to accept it, what other choice did I have? But then something else happened. I won't go into detail but lets just say it made it absolutely clear that I was on the outs. In fact I couldn't believe the lengths this person went to just to not come have a drink with me. I thought to myself, how tortourous is it to be in my company, I mean, I'm kinda charming, no?

No one sleeps when I'm awake

I have trouble sleeping. I have trouble sleeping quite often. You see, I'm a thinker. Now, I'm not saying that I am an intellectual, in fact, far from it. My formal education is well, non-existent. I am not thinking about world issues or philosophical ideas, I'm thinking about, well, wait for it....myself. Now, it might surprise you to know what I am thinking about. It might surprise you to know that the most sleepless nights are not when something is bothering me, it's when I'm excited about something. Now with the upcoming holidays, I find myself excited daily. I'm counting down the days until I see my Mom, my Dad, my sister and brother in-law and my adorable little niece. I'm also excited about all the social things that are happening before I leave. I'm thinking about what I should bring for hosts, what to wear, will my crush be there? Will my other crush be there?  And don't even get me started about actual Christmas day, but since I'll be at my parents Christmas Eve, I'm sure I can scam a sedative from my mother's stash. In these sleepless moments, I try to calm down by breathing deep, I imagine clouds in the sky, moving slowly but then I picture myself floating on them like a magic carpet, traveling to far away places — oh the sights I am seeing! The new friends I am making! So then I try to count sheep, but inevitably I start naming them and cuddling them. Hey, they are pretty cute. Eventually I'm so exhausted from all this fun that I fall asleep and the next morning, I wake up, excited about the things to come.