With exception to a minor detour via the Jersey Shore (major guido!) I’ve been single for three years. I’ve been on a handful of dates in that time, the result of which was a collection of unbelievable stories (no really, you wouldn’t believe them if I told them to you!) and a firm conviction that getting a latte and manicure by oneself is the most lovely way to spend an afternoon.  I had become perfectly content with being single. However, I recently met someone who isn’t at all content with the idea of my single lady status, and he seems set on changing this. So I’ve started dating again.

I hate dating.  I hate lingering in the no-man’s land between interest and relationship. I hate panicking about what I’m going to wear. I hate feeling my stomach drop because I catch myself about to leave the house with the price tag still on my sweater.  I hate sitting across a dinner table, unsure of what the person on the opposite side thinks about me. And I hate feeling like I’m going to hurl while doing all of the above. The entire process is thoroughly exhausting.

But as it turns out, last Friday I found myself sitting opposite of  this particular chap, sharing a piece of chocolate cake, and descending into fits of giggles.  And I suppose he found me to be charming enough; we’re going out again on Thursday.  What can I say? I’m a sucker for blue eyes and witty quips.

I find this delightfully witty. And true.

Bloody Men
by Wendy Cope

Bloody men are like bloody buses -
You wait for about a year
And as soon as one approaches your stop
Two or three others appear.

You look at them flashing their indicators,
Offering you a ride.
You’re trying to read the destination,
You haven’t much time to decide.

If you make a mistake, there is no turning back.
Jump off, and you’ll stand there and gaze
While the cars and the taxis and lorries go by
And the minutes, the hours, the days.

You may recall that I’ve been waging war on the prevalent populous of skyrats in my neighborhood. I’ve neglected to post updates as we’ve parried back and forth. Not too long ago, I sat outside to do some painting and found that the dastardly creatures hovered more intently than ever, no doubt hoping to soil my canvasses. Since then, I haven’t spent much time outside engaging with the pigeons.   When I hear them roosting on the neighbor’s roof, I do take the time to pound my wall or to open the window to curse at them, but I’ve attempted, to the best of my abilities, to avoid the fallout of their constant air raids.

Then, I was shopping with Mogo on Saturday. We digressed from our plans and visited Potter’s on the off chance they had begun to lay out their Christmas wares. We were not disappointed, and left the store with decorations and candy canes. However, I’m pleased to announce that Potter’s now stocks owl decoys.

The decoy seemingly appeared in a ray of light – clearly, a heavenly gift for us – next to the cash register. The shop girl found it odd that we were so enthused about a plastic owl and made a show of raising her eyebrows in exaggerated disbelief.  We bought it.

When we returned home, I climbed out the window and placed it on the roof. Since then, I have not seen a pigeon. But that might be because I don’t want to see any.

The following D.H. Lawrence has been hailed as “sourly misogynistic”:

To Women, As Far As I’m Concerned

The feelings I don’t have, I don’t have.
The feelings I don’t have, I wont say I have.
The feelings you say you have, you don’t have.
The feelings you would like us both to have, we neither of us have.

The feelings people ought to have, they never have.
If people say they’ve got feelings, you may be pretty sure they haven’t
got them.

So if you want either of us to feel anything at all,
You’d better abandon all idea of feelings altogether.

Perhaps I’m failing miserably as a feminist (and as an English major), but I don’t feel any sense of misogyny radiating from the words Lawrence wrote. Was the piece titled To Men, As Far As I’m Concerned, it might be hailed as a fundamental work of feminist poetry. Was it titled To Men, As Far As I’m Concerned, it would succinctly sum words I’ve failed to find many times. I would thusly argue the poem speaks more to the human condition than anything else. Lawrence is keenly aware that we’re often in love with the idea of love. As I’ve discovered many times, wanting to fall in love doesn’t mean you are in love, nor will it make you fall in love. And I don’t think this is trap that ensnares women only; men fall victim, too.  Maybe Lawrence is right, if we are to feel anything at all, we better stop idealizing.

The tom-foolery is complete!

We finished redecorating [co-worker's] office this morning, as we understood he was arriving home from Montreal today. Apparently, he caught an early flight.  We had just enough time to finish and snap a few pictures before he came into the office.  Pjete and I had another project to take care of, so we were around the corner working when he came across his office.   We didn’t want to risk implicating ourselves by whipping out the camera, so we just listened and laughed.  From what we could hear, he was generally in good humor about the foil.

Here are the final pictures:

I thought I’d post pictures from our epic foiling prank. I had the fabulous Ashley B foiling with me today.  This is only phase 2; tomorrow, Pjete and I will finish wrapping the walls, couch, blinds, office chair, and – perhaps – the ceiling.

As today is BC Day, the office was closed. I was surprised to arrive and see my boss’s car in the parking lot, but as the recipient of my prank works in a different department, I wasn’t concerned about unwanted interruptions.  It seems, however, that our foiling was too loud. My boss heard us from the other side of the building, and came looking for the disconcerting noises. Seemingly, there’s a homeless man camping in our parking lot, and she was actually quite creeped out.  In any case, we were caught in action. The conversation played out as follows

Boss Lady:  Hello???? Is someone in there?

Us: Hi, [Boss Lady]

Boss Lady: Oh good, it’s just you guys. You know about the homeless guy in the parking lot, right? I think they’re going to ask him to leave. I was a little concerned about the noise.

Us: Sorry! We didn’t think we’d disturb anyone.

[insert ten minutes of small talk here]

Boss Lady: So what are you girls doing in [co-worker's] office?

Us: Oh, ya know, just a little redecorating. It’s a surprise.

Boss Lady: Oh nice, what are you working on?

Us: Oh, ya know, just wrapping everything in foil.

Boss Lady: (astonished look) Wow! I didn’t even notice! Wow! You guys… Well… I haven’t seen – or heard – anything!  Oh my gosh…

I was shocked that she didn’t immediately notice that everything was wrapped in foil. It was so funny. I stood there, trying not to laugh; I couldn’t figure out whether or not she had previously seen the office or if she had simply not seen the extent of the foil.

There are now just two phases left in this prank.  Phase Three is tomorrow; we will finish “redecorating” [coworker's] office.  Phase Four is later in the week; we will find a way to record [coworker's] reaction to the the prank with a hidden camera.  If Phase Four is successful, you will see a video at some point early next week.

After having a disastrous blog implosion earlier today, I’ve finally gotten ye olde blog back on the interwebs.  Unfortunately, everything posted thus far disappeared into cyberspace. I’ll get over it. It’s just going to take a while to finish getting everything back to normal. **sigh**