The Last Hurrah

As the last breath is finally released and the strong heart gives up its valiant fight; Betty finally relinquishes herself to an eternal rest. The date is July 18, 2005. Today on July 22, 2005 we come together to pay respect to this wonderful woman. I know that I will never forget this birthday, my 44th.

I think about how Betty is finally forced to rest and how that was something that she rarely allowed herself. I think how odd it is to be here for a funeral in the very Church where I married her son Bill some 26 years ago. I sit quietly with my thoughts as sweat drips down my face and neck. Was it this hot when we married? I think so, but I probably never noticed on that day. I was too wound up in nervous, happy tension. I look up to the ceiling at the small blades of the ceiling fan dangling high above and wonder why they would put such a small fan up so high; its blades too weak to push enough air towards me to evaporate the dampness that clings to my body.

Memories of my wedding day and Betty standing proudly at the front of the Church, watching me walk down the aisle, make me cry. She infused her never ending energy into our wedding preparations; making sure that every last detail was perfect.

I sit two rows behind the one that holds my daughter, her father, his second wife and their two sons. I sit with my mother alone. The other side of the Church in the front row are my ex-brother-in law, his third wife, his father, his mother’s sister and her husband.

It is obvious that my ex husband is not considered one of the family and neither are we. The black sheep as he has often been referred to, is forced to sit on the opposite side of the Church because his father’s sister and her family have taken up squatting rights in the second row, not offering to give up their prime seats when he arrived and certainly not even entertaining that perhaps their actions could be considered inappropriate or rude. My daughter told me of the awkwardness later and how it made her feel angry and sad. Bill did not make a fuss. He quietly moved his family to the third row, the first two were designated for the Pall Bearer’s, and sat silently, obstructed of a view to the spot that would soon hold the casket of his mother, listening to the quiet chords of the organ whining in the background.

I wonder what thoughts are going through his mind but I cannot even imagine. I have lost a parent and I know how terribly devastating that can be, but I did not have the underlying tensions of dislike and competitiveness that he has, so I wait for him to explode because I know that he will.

My mind stops for a moment and I feel guilty about my wilful pondering in this holy place where we have gathered to worship the passing of a wonderful, strong, vibrant matriarch. I decide to ignore the snub and try to focus on all the contributions of a woman that I loved as much as my own mother.

To try and describe her is a feat in itself. How do you explain a woman that could run a business, do everything and I mean everything for her husband, maintain a show home that was open year after year for Public tours, volunteer and actively participate in several charitable organisations, run for Public Office more than once, stand for hours on end preparing home made Chili Sauce, Zucchini Relish, Corn Relish, Dill Pickles, Strawberry Jam, Raspberry Jam and numerous other culinary delights in the heat of the summer in a house only equipped with fans, without one complaint because she knew that her husband would be happy. If that is not enough, try to imagine this same woman probably the day after doing all of that cooking, going outside and cutting the lawn for 7 hours and when she was finished you would swear it was nicer than the greens of an exclusive golf and country club. That was her weekend. She would be at work on Monday morning to start the whole thing over again, managing a thriving Travel Agency during a time when many women did not hold a position above Secretary.

Her limitless energy and talents made me shameful of my own wifely contributions. I tried to keep up to her but I realised that I was not made of the same stuff as Betty S. She was unique and bigger than life. I never heard her say that she could not do something or accomplish something. Those negative words did not occupy any space in her thought process. Instead her mind was always busy imagining her next task or challenge. She taught me many things and I am changed because I met her son a month before my 16th birthday and eventually married him a month after I turned 18.

She taught me how to make the best pie crust ever and often bragged to other people about the beautiful apple pies I could make. I can feel the blush on my cheeks that would instantly appear when I would hear her talking about my own abilities, because I knew that it would never compare to hers. After years of hearing those same compliments, I am forced to accept that it was a sincere compliment and not a half truth that you may hear from less genuine individuals.

Betty was not dishonest. Many people may not have understood her frank honesty but I’m sure that it was respected. She would not purposely try to hurt you but if you asked her opinion, you would get it, even if it was not what you wanted to hear.

Our relationship began on rocky ground because she couldn’t understand why a young girl would be interested in a man 8 years her senior. I think that she questioned my own integrity in those early years, but it wasn’t long before I was one of the family and treated like the daughter that she always wanted but never had. When my marriage ended, I promised her through our hugs and tears that I would never abandon her or Frank and they would always have access to their granddaughter Melissa. That was not even a question in my mind, but I knew that it happens often when couples part and I could see the fear in her eyes when I told her that Bill had left. She loved both Melissa and I and she was openly upset and angry at Bill for his unfaithfulness. We did remain close and she was a huge part of Melissa’s and my life until the very end.

Three weeks earlier, she made the decision to remove herself from her dialysis treatments. She was tired and unable to maintain the struggle that she had endured for the past 4 years. It was an emotional visit with her the July 1st weekend, as she held my hand in the emergency room and told me how much she loved me and how sorry she was that Bill and I were not still together. She told me once again that I was the daughter she never had and how much she appreciated everything that I had ever done for her. I knew that I may not get another opportunity to express all of my feelings for her too, so as hard as it was, through sobs and tears, I gave thanks for her love and generosity. I told her how much I loved her and we cried and kissed in the small cubicle of the emergency room, while Doctors and Nurses rushed around caring for the injured and sick.

It wasn’t the last time I saw Betty S. but it was the last time I was able to have a meaningful conversation with her. Her health deteriorated quickly after that day and for the next two weekends, Melissa and I made our way to Collingwood to spend as many hours as possible with her before she departed.

My thoughts are broken by the wail of the bagpipe and everyone stands in respect for the lady being carried down the aisle to the front of the Church. My tears will not be restrained and I struggle to find some tissue in my purse as she passes by me.

As I listen to the rushed words falling from the lips of the gentleman reading the eulogy, I can’t help but think that this is a shame. His speech has all the information but does not have the emotion or love that she deserves. The facts, read in a hurried monotone, pale against my memories of the real life moments that were felt standing with her as she succeeded time and again at whatever she chose to strive for.

The Minister follows with her own limited knowledge of this great woman and I cry as she speaks of how Betty took joy in her sons, Bob and Bill, their wives, the two Mika’s, her four grandchildren, Melissa, Deborah, Julian and Patrick and her great grandchildren Joshua and Ariana. The dialogue continues but even after mentioning her sister-in-law, her husband, nieces and nephews there is no mention of me. That hurt. It hurt because the people that were left behind, the people who wrote the death notice for the paper, the people who gave the information to the Minister never thought that I was a part of Betty’s life, or felt that I was not important enough to be mentioned. They didn’t know because unlike Melissa and I, those people were never around. They did not have Frank and Betty to their homes for special occasions like Birthdays, Easter, Thanksgiving and Christmas like I did. So how would they know?

Their efforts in the last couple of weeks of her life do not make up for the years of occasional visits and phone calls. They will have to live with their conscience; mine is clear.

The moment of celebrating her life is over and the Minister prays as we say farewell at her grave site. That’s it. A few meaningless words and the story of a very productive, strong woman is over. It will never be over in my heart though because she will always be there, forever and ever. Amen.

So much more than just a pic...

**After posting this earlier and linking to two of Ben's pictures, I googled Hotlinking and found out what it means. I've since removed the pictures. Sorry Ben. If your pictures have tags to prevent this, it didn't work.


I was reading a post by Ben and his dilema surrounding posting pictures on his blog.

What picqued my curiosity was the bit about "anti-hotlinking tag". I've never heard of the term and I'm wondering what it is, and more importantly what does it do? I thought it would prevent someone from stealing his pics and posting them on their page, so I decided to try it.

The picture featured here is one of Ben's. (I've since removed the picture). The "anti-hotlinking tag" isn't doing what I thought it would do.

Ok I'm going to try and post another one of his pics. Maybe that one didn't have the tag.
Removed Picture. Ok then, I've managed to post two of his pictures in different formats, so what is that tag for?

Maybe Ben will tell me.

Fantasy/Reality

Wow, another week has slipped by. I must say that typically I am out of the house much more in the nice weather than I am in the winter. This would account for the declining posts.

This past week I was out every night except one, last night. It's fun but tiring all at the same time.

In my last post I was talking about my visit with Em2 and posted some pictures. We ended up getting together on the Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday. Monday I toured him to Collingwood and Wasaga Beach, Tuesday we met for dinner and I took him to The Astoria on the Danforth. Great Greek food. It was so friggin hot though. I felt like I was soaking wet by the time we left. We had decided to sit on the patio because Em2 said that he doesn't often get the opportunity to eat outdoors. I know that I don't, ever since I moved to Mississauga almost 4 years ago, so it was a nice change.

For Em2's last evening, I picked him up at his Hotel and brought him to my place for dinner. We ordered in pizza because I didn't want to make the poor man wait until midnight to eat if I planned on cooking once we got there (I have been finding it difficult to leave work on time and was later leaving that night also).

It was funny because I was kind of nervous about him meeting my mother. My mother was nervous about meeting him because she said that she is sure I post nasty things about her on my blog and he would have an opinion about her already.

I'm not sure if Em2 was nervous because he always presents a cool, calm facade.

I think the evening went well. It went quickly, that's for sure. I hated driving him back to his hotel because I knew that it might be the last time I see him and I felt like we were just getting comfortable with each other.

I would have to say that meeting Em2 was one of the most enjoyable things about blogging. It makes it so much more fun to finally meet the person behind the words. He is nothing like I had imagined. We all have little fantasies of what the bloggers look like, act like etc. and in my mind, Em2 would have looked and acted like Neuman off of Seinfeld. He wasn't like him at all, except that he has the best sense of humour and had me laughing the whole time he was here.

Helloooooo, I'm back!

June 22, 2005

It seems like forever since I’ve updated. Oh wait a minute, that’s because it has been.

I’m sure that the few people that used to check in on a regular basis have given up me and I don’t blame you.

I have been very busy lately and unfortunately have not had the time or the energy to devote to my blog.

But I’m taking a minute for a sketch of what has been happening.

I’m sure you all remember the Supervisor competition that I applied on a long time ago. I finally received the outcome around the end of May. Out of the 500 initial applicants there were two of us that qualified and ended up on the list for the three locations I had applied for. I’m number two.

I was very surprised and happy with the results. Considering that there are many positions available, there is a good possibility that I will end up with a permanent job at this level from this competition. I almost hate to say that because I’m afraid of jinxing it. The eligibility list is good for one year and can be extended for another if they want. In this case, it won’t be because there are two few on the list, so there would not be any point.

The appeal period was up on June 14th and of course, the competition has been appealed. This means that they cannot offer a permanent position until after the appeal process is complete. There was no indication of how long this will take.

That sums up work except that since I’ve been working as a Supervisor, I have been busier than ever before and I’m finding it very difficult to go home on time. I think that will ease as I become more comfortable with the new position.

I decided to sign up for a course to assist myself with my new job, and I took a 4 week (Saturday only) course on Human Relations. It was through Sheridan College and was part of the Ontario Management Development Program. You can obtain a certificate with either 8 or 12 credits, depending on the program you decide to take.

I ended up with 100% on my first one. Very happy with those results too. It was a very informative course and I came away with confidence that I already do some things well and there are other areas that I can become more proficient. I met some new people and that was fun as well.

Another exciting thing that happened was that I had an international visitor. That was a real surprise. I received an email from Em2 telling me that he was coming to Canada and would be in Toronto. He wondered if I was interested in meeting him and of course I was.

He had made plans for his first weekend in Canada so I decided to take a vacation day on Monday June 6th and use that time to show Em2 a little bit of my world. I took him to see my old stomping grounds, Collingwood and Wasaga Beach. We had a great time. It was so nice to meet him face to face and share a part of Ontario that is very close to my heart.

Here are some pictures that I took during that day. Click on the thumbnail to see full size picture. View from the top of Blue Mountain, near Scenic Caves. This used to be a "free" lookout point, but Blue Mountain has put barriers and a parking lot with signs advising that the tickets are needed to use the trails. All in the name of progress. We decided to risk prosecution and brazenly walked along their trail to the best spot for picture taking. Luckily nobody was arrested. :o)













Wasaga Beach. The worlds longest freshwater beach!











Dinner at The Astoria, Danforth Ave, Toronto Ontario.

To be continued soon....

Let Me Introduce You To....

We met about a month ago. At first meeting, I wasn’t even sure if I liked him. He was aggravating and intoxicating simultaneously, which left me with mixed feelings.

I’ve been seeing him almost daily since our first meeting and if I am unable to see him, I become very frustrated. It’s developed into a habit. A time consuming habit, but after leaving him, I always feel euphoric and therefore do not mind the time that I have been spending with him.

It’s like anything in life, sometimes the cost is worth the effort and sometimes it isn’t.

I believe that this time, the benefits far outweigh the loss of time doing other things, like updating my blog, or chatting online with my friends.

It seems to be changing the way I look. I’ve been complimented by my co-workers at how I seem to "glow". The euphoric feeling stays with me all day long. My job doesn’t seem to get me down, even if it should. I have been looking at challenges as mere side-steps rather than the insurmountable mountains that I would have before.

I’ve made a conscious decision to be faithful and loyal. I want to put forth whatever efforts are required to make this relationship work and I am confident that I have finally stumbled upon a real lifesaver.

Ladies and Gentleman, I am proud to introduce you to my new boyfriend, Mr. Treadmill.

Thank you!!

I just wanted to thank everyone for the wonderful comments. Life without Sammy is different and we are all adapting to a new home environment.

I have so many things to write about, but I haven't had a moment...my new relationship is eating up soooo much of my time.

I'll update you on all of this, this weekend. Until then, may the sun be shining on you no matter where you are.

Shelly

Farewell My Friend

Some moments in time act as bookmarks for our brain, signifying those important moments as lifetime memories from all the other insignificant occurrences in our day to day life.

I recently experienced one of those moments. Last Monday, April 25th, 2005 I had to say goodbye to my long time friend, Sammy. Sammy was my dog. He would have been 15 years old in September.

He collapsed Monday night while I was at work, and the call from my daughter panicking and requesting me to leave work, was the call I had been dreading for some time.

Sammy had been fighting Cushings disease for the past three years. We can now look back and know that it was most likely more than the three years because the earliest symptoms began five years ago.

If you have never liked animals, or have never owned a dog, you may not understand the pain and loss that my family is feeling right now, but trust me, it is real.

My friend had rescued Sammy and his siblings from starvation. She convinced me to come inside to see the puppies one day and the only reason why she had to convince me was because my husband was adamant that we were not going to get a dog. I know how weak I am around animals so I knew that I would leave with one of the puppies. She had a huge cage in the middle of her kitchen and three puppies were happily running around the house with her four cats while Sammy cowered at the back of the cage, terrified of his own shadow.

I asked Helen to get him out and she placed him in my hands. He fit perfectly in them and I held him against my breast to calm his wildly beating heart. Shortly after he looked up in my eyes and started to lick my hand. His heart was calm and I was in love.

Helen agreed to keep him at her place for a couple of more weeks so that I could surprise my daughter with him as a Christmas gift.

First I had to convince my husband that it was a good idea. Thinking back on that argument now, I can see that was the beginning of the end of our relationship. He was very angry and in a rage yelled that if I brought the "F’ing" dog home; he would move out. I quietly asked him if he wanted help packing his bags and whether or not he would wait for Sammy’s arrival before he left or would he be leaving now.

Choosing Sammy over my husband proved to be a far better choice. The years of loyal companionship and unconditional love have left me with many happy memories.

My husband did finally leave but not for three years. He grew to love Sammy just as much as my daughter and I did. I don’t think Sammy ever warmed up to him altogether, because he probably sensed some animosity from my husband.

The first week after my husband moved out, I woke up in the middle of the night and fear engulfed my whole body. I could hear the loud steady breathing of another person, in bed beside me and their hot breath on my neck made every hair stand straight up. I laid perfectly still, while my mind raced on what to do. I decided that I had to roll over quietly and see who it was. I knew they were asleep by the sound of their breathing. Carefully I edged my body around so that I could twist my head enough to see who the perpetrator was. I let out a scream when my eyes caught the wild hairy face, and then I realised it was only Sammy. He had moved up the bed from the foot while I had slept and placed his head on my husband’s old pillow. It was as if he was saying, "it’s about time that asshole left, now I can sleep where I’m supposed to."

That is just one of the many, many warm memories that I have of my Sammy and because of those special moments I know he will never be far from my heart.

Monday night was one of the hardest things I’ve ever had to do, but for you Sammy, I would do it again and again. Thank you buddy for being one of the best friends I’ve ever had. I love you and now you are at peace and out of your pain.

Mr. Treadmill

Day one of the new daily schedule of Shelly that includes exercise. I know that I cannot jump to the physically fit Shelly, so I started out slow. I went downstairs to the exercise room. Yes, I am lucky to have one located in my building. Funny that I still couldn’t manage the time to use it, but today I did.

I allowed myself 40 minutes for my use only, in the exercise room. The choice was treadmill, elliptical machine, exercise bike or weights. I chose the treadmill and used the "fat" burning program. It was the coolest thing. The bloody treadmill actually elevated, lowered, increased speed and decreased as often as required in order to keep my heart rate on target. It took a lot of the guessing out of it and that left me more mindless minutes to meditate.

While I walked alone in the exercise room, I suddenly realised that I was really enjoying myself. I felt happy to feel small beads of sweat forming on my skin. The rhythmic sound of my footsteps was comforting. My flushed face made me feel victorious.

After the machine had finished burning my fat, and had decided that I was sufficiently cooled off, I smugly sauntered back to my apartment to get ready for work.

I had miscalculated my timing and in the end I had to rush in order to get to work on time, but that didn’t detract from my euphoric feeling of having spent quality time with my new best friend, Mr. Treadmill.

Health = A (kind of) Job = Not sure

I must apologise to my patient readers for my lack of writing lately. I've been swept off my feet with work and have not been able to surface long enough to put a couple of thoughts together.

I'm going to attempt a small update on the wonderful, intriguing life of Shelly.

I went for a physical with my new Doctor today. I visited her in March to follow up on an annoying sensation on the right side of my stomach. This annoyance had been occurring intermittently for approximately four years. Two years ago I had an ultrasound that failed to show the cause of this dull ache and I was supposed to go for another one.

I put the requisition in my purse and immediately forgot about it. That's not true. I didn't forget about it; I chose to ignore it. That is the part of my character that puzzles me. If my friends have any health concerns, I am always there to encourage them to seek medical attention right away. Early detection is the best protection. My favourite slogan.

The new good Doctor referred me to the lab for a bone density test, and ultrasound and took vials and vials of blood to be tested on everything imaginable.

Today I was finally able to obtain the results other than the bone density test, because for some strange reason a one month interval is not long enough to deliver the results to the Doctor, even though they were done on the same day, in the same lab. She assured me that when she gets them back she will let me know if they show anything.

Here are the things I found out today:

1. My blood cholesterol, sugars etc. are all very good.

2. I'm borderline high blood pressure 130/90. She said the bottom number is the one that is sitting on the fence and if it goes up then I would have high blood pressure.

"No more salt on your food, and get out and exercise!"

3. I have NO communicable diseases.

4. I am in menopause. They do not suggest hormone replacement therapy anymore unless the person is having difficulty with the symptoms of menopause. I’m not sure what all the symptoms of menopause are, but I did experience hot flashes about three years ago. Perhaps that is all that I will go through.

5. My liver is still fatty (that showed up in the original ultrasound) and it still has a simple cyst. She is going to monitor it every six months with a new ultrasound. The only way to repair a "fatty" liver is to lose weight.

6. I shouldn’t drink alcohol with the "fatty" liver. This would explain why I get sick to my stomach when I over indulge slightly or sometimes when I just indulge. My mother told me that my Dad’s Father died of cirrhosis of the liver, which I never knew. I need to lose weight to help reduce the symptoms and as I’m just reading about it here, this may be the dull ache I have felt in my right side. It’s hard to pinpoint where that ache is but my intuition has always made me feel that it was my liver. Time to get serious about Shelly.

7. I need to start exercising regularly in order to lose weight. She is more concerned with me exercising than she is with my diet. She said that I will no longer lose weight through diet alone (menopause) and that if I were to get into an exercise routine then I wouldn’t have to be on a strict diet.

8. She wants to see me in three months to see how my weight loss is coming along. This is the kind of support that I feel is important for me. Years ago, when I was trying to lose weight, my Doctor at the time monitored it and I was very successful. So who knows, this may be the kick in the ass I’ve needed.

So that is good and bad news. There was nothing that she told me that was beyond turning around, so all in all, I would have to say that I am in good health. I can be in better health and that is what I need to concentrate on.

Change of subject to my job for a minute. I still have not heard the results of the Supervisor competition. It’s a long, slow process. I was asked quite suddenly to step in for the afternoon shift supervisor at the end of March because the day shift supervisor returned to his substantive position, which resulted in a bit of a domino affect. I agreed and started supervising the afternoon shift on April 1st. You can probably see now that this change in duties directly affected my capacity to blog. That isn’t the only affect.

I am excited at the challenge but I’m also struggling not to feel overwhelmed. I signed up for a course to help with the new challenge and that will begin on May 14th. It’s every Saturday for 4 weeks and the topic is Human Relations. I’m very excited about it. Whether or not this becomes a permanent position, at this point, I know it is the direction that I am concentrating on as far as my career is concerned, so the course will definitely benefit me in the years to come.

That my peoples is it in a nutshell. I’ve been focused on work and health for the past few weeks and there has been no time to play with my blog. I hope things will start to settle back to the way it was before and that regular programming will return.

Creative Visualization

Do you believe in Creative Visualization? I read a book about 5 years ago called Creative Visualization by Shakti Gawain. When I read the book I realized that I had practised this technique many times throughout my life but mainly as a child or young adult.

Some of my memories of using this technique are:

Creative Visualization Image - My sister and I are having a wonderful birthday party for our dolls, complete with beautiful birthday cakes with candles and the two of us singing Happy Birthday harmoniously on a glorious, sunny morning.
Reality Check - my sister and I attempting to stick lit matches into the holes of baby cookies to turn them into cakes and dropping the lit matches onto the floor, in the paper wastebasket etc. Result, entire apartment unit burned beyond recognition, loss of all personal belongings and being displaced with strangers until my parents found another place to live. Age 5 years.

Creative Visualization Image - I am a wild stallion galloping fiercely on the plains of the wild, wild west while some Indians and Cowboys either fought nearby or were attempting to capture me
Reality Check - running wildly through the playground age 6 - 10 yrs, groups of boys either fighting with each other or chasing me for some unknown terrifying reason.


Creative Visualization Image - I am the fastest runner in the world. My pigtails stand straight out when I engage my extra powerful energy into my legs. I cannot be stopped.
Reality Check - winning my first race while participating in a yearly activity in school called Field Day. Everyone had to participate in a variety of athletic competitions with prizes of ribbons awarded to the most gifted athletes. Age 6.

Creative Visualization Image - My body is lighter than air. When pushed by my legs I am able to lift myself high into the air in order to surpass the metal rod. It doesn’t matter how high they place it, I will float easily above and land softly on the fluffy mat.
Reality Check - participating in the high jump competition, placed 3rd in my age group and received a beautiful ribbon. Age 7 - 8

Creative Visualization Image - my arms are so strong that when people watch me swimming the length of the pool, my body is scarcely visible because of the splash from the water. I arrive at the end of the pool long before my competitors.
Reality Check - placed 2nd in my first swim meet for 100m freestyle competition. I chose to swim the front crawl. I never had official swimming lessons, unlike the rest of my team mates and competitors, but I loved the water and had joined the team at the beckoning of my friend. When we first arrived at the meet, I was terrified and shy but my imagination took over once I was standing on the edge of the pool with the others waiting to hear the whistle. Age 12.

Creative Visualization Image - I’m making dinner in my own kitchen and I’m very happy. My husband is outside working around the yard. The sun is shining, the house is very happy and warm. Marriage is as wonderful as I could possibly have imagined.
Reality Check - that weekend, my ex-boyfriend who I imagined as my husband, met up with me by coincidence and offered to give me a ride back to Toronto on the back of his motorcycle after not speaking to me for 6 months. We reunited, later married and stayed together 14 years. It was not the happy marriage of my dreams, but part of it came true. I was married and I was always in the kitchen. Age 18.

Creative Visualization Image I’m working at an Insurance company in my town. Each week I receive my huge paycheque and go out to buy nice new dresses to wear to work each day. My co-workers are great and we become close like a family. I love to go to work each and every day.
Reality Check - I was chosen out of hundreds of applicants as the newest employee of that insurance company. The pay was better than most jobs in town and I did become very close with my co-workers. The nice new dresses didn’t happen as often as I imagined but that position did help afford a better lifestyle than I had been living prior to it. Age 18.

I’m dreaming of being independently wealthy with several handsome suitors, that are only to happy to be at my beck and call. Life is very good and success comes easy. I’ll let you know when it happens.

And The Correct Answer Is...

7 times.

He rang my cell phone 6 times on a Saturday morning, two weeks after he stood me up. There were three messages left, one apologizing for "missing" the Sunday before (it was two weeks prior), the second message pleaded with me to stop being aggressive and call him back and the third was a hang up.

The last call was last weekend and he left a message acknowledging that I must be pissed at him, but I should call so he can explain.

I didn't call and will not.

Just thought that it's funny how I thought I had heard the last of him when he didn't show up at the bar and how strange that in spite of that, he thinks that I should want to talk to him.

Clearly a nutbar!

Guessing Game

Guess how many times this guy has called me since he stood me up?

And NO, I have NOT answered or returned any of his calls. See if you can guess the magic number. The winner will be awarded an undetermined prize that will most certainly be something entirely worthless and or useless.

Walk at Sunnyside Park, Toronto

I went for a walk in the park yesterday and got a few shots of early spring in Toronto. Click on the thumbnails below to view full picture.

Courteous or Rude?

I have never forgotten the lessons I learned in Sunday School. It doesn’t matter how long ago that was, those lessons for daily living still occupy a prime spot in my brain and have become the essence of what I believe in. Such simple things as: do unto others as you would have them do unto you; try to give a helping hand whenever you can; practise what you preach; live and let live; what will be will be; walk on a crack, break your mother’s back; what goes around, comes around; those who throw stones, shouldn’t live in glass towers and on and on.

I actually do believe in the idea that if we all did one nice thing for someone else each day then this world would be a better place. I always say thank you when someone holds a door, hands me my purchases, or takes my order at a restaurant. I never bud in line, try to give room for cars to merge onto the highway and leave enough room so that the car in front, isn’t blinded by my lights when driving at night.

As I’m sure you all know, I live in an apartment building. It’s a huge building with approx 400 suites. The tenants all park underground.

The other day I left for work and was in an especially cheerful mood because the sun was shining and I felt great.

I proceeded to back out of my parking spot and headed toward the door. At the moment that I had just started to move forward; the in door started opening. I quickly moved as far over to the right as I could to allow the oncoming car to get by me and I stopped to wait.

The car entering the garage wasn’t sure if he could manoeuvre between the post to his right and my car. I knew there was plenty of room so I just stayed where I was and waited patiently for the car to enter. His car was blocking the exit, so there really was no place else for me to go.

He finally made it around the obstacle course and smiled and waved at me as he passed. Right behind him another car came whizzing in. The woman drove tediously around the post and as she passed me, looked straight in my eye, shook her head and mouthed the word, asshole.

I was shocked. Here I was thinking that I was being polite and courteous by waiting for the cars to enter rather than trying to get to the exit which would have impeded their progress, only to be sworn at by some twit.

I think the timing was what turned my gesture from courteous to rude from the perspective of driver number two. She probably was blaming me for driver one taking so long to enter, when really it was just his lack of driving skills and had nothing to do with me at all.

Below is a picture of the garage and the placement of my parking spot, where I backed out and where I stopped. I think you will see what I mean.

Picture Essay

On the advise of Mick, I finally submitted one of my pictures and an accompanying essay to A Pictures Worth and my Winter's Sunset photo has been posted on the site for March 2005. I wrote a little essay to go with it, so please visit David's site and check it out. It may inspire you to do the same. The site showcases a new beautiful photo with story every day.

Spring in G Minor

I am so happy, so very happy, I am so happy, I could sing and dance! La, la, la la laaaaaaa, la la la la laaaaaaa, dum dum de de dum dum dum deeeeeeeee. A full symphony with choral back up plays loudly in my head as my eyes open and I am tempted to spring to my feet, do a hand spring towards the door, two pirouettes and three high kicks on my way to the bathroom because I am soooooo happy, but I don’t.

That’s not the Shelly that everyone knows. I can’t act like that. My mom and daughter would have a heart attack if I acted like I was the lead in a Hollywood Musical when I awoke rather than the in a daze, stumbling, scratching my belly, zombie that I usually am.

So I resist the urge to spring lightly down the hall. I wish I had animated words this morning because that one back there, you know which one, spring…yes spring would be springing like a slinky across the page. I’ll stop thinking about the possibilities because I don’t have animated words and I don’t want you to be disappointed when you realise the possibilities of what I could deliver, had I the know how and skills of a geek goddess. Rather than disappoint you by filling you in on all of my untapped creativity, I’ll keep it to myself and tell you that today I am FANTABULOUSLY HAPPY!!!

Why am I so happy? I’m not sure. Is it because along with the symphony and choral back up in my head, there is a warm breeze with the smell of retracting winter sliding through my window to my nostrils? Or is it because on that breeze, the happy, bright song of the birdies is floating in the room and landing in my ears? That was it. It was the song of the birds and I was sleeping beauty, lying there in wait of my prey. Oh wait, no not prey, I mean my Prince Charming. He came to me and knelt by my bed of stone and then gave me the sweetest, most loving, gentle kiss. A kiss to wake the dead. A kiss to raise my hopes and energy from the depths of winter that would make me ALIVE again. Oh wait it wasn’t Prince Charming at all, I remember now. It was just Molly, my cat. Oh well, who cares, I’m alive! I’m awake and it’s SPRING!!!!

How Sweet Is That?

Click on thumbnail to see full picture.

Where I've been

Sorry for the absence. I didn't want to jinx anything by writing about it ahead of time and I've been very preoccupied with the whole process since.

What am I talking about? Remember that Supervisor's competition that I had applied on back in January? The one that I thought I had failed? Well last thursday afternoon around 4:00pm, I received an email advising me that I had passed for one of the positions and my interview would be on Tuesday morning at 8:30am.

So when I felt that I had done badly, in a way I was right. I had applied for two types of supervisor positions, I failed one and passed the other. I only had to write one test for both positions and because of that, my overall feeling was one of failure.

I am still amazed that I made it this far. I was told that over 50% of the people that applied never passed the first test. The next part weeded out even more. So from the hundreds that initially applied, far less are being interviewed.

Rather than going away on the weekend to my friends to celebrate St. Paddy's day, I stayed home and prepared for the interview. The interview is where you are tested on personal suitabilities and skills and abilities. There isn't really too much you can do in the way of preparation, other than look at the qualities they want for the position and think of how you have demonstrated those qualities in the past. It was a mentally exhausting few days.

Now I just have to wait and see what the results are. I was curious about how many other people they were interviewing but they wouldn't tell me. I know that interviews are being conducted this week and next and they hope to have the process completed by the end of March. It will probably be the end of April by the time I hear anything.

It may not lead to a position, even though I have gone this far, but I already feel successful and happy that I managed to jump through this many hoops.

Wacko Jacko Doesn't Show

According to a news bulletin on the television, Michael Jackson didn't show up in court today. They had issued an all points bulletin for his arrest and then a report came through that he was at the hospital for back problems.

I wonder how many more stall tactics he will use during this proceeding?

Persistant Suitor

I feel the need to recap my weekend and share it with my friends, both real and cyber. You may find this as curious as I do.

Remember the guy I met a few weeks ago at the bar? I had given him my cell phone number and he had called me the next day. During that conversation, I lied to him and said I had a boyfriend and apologised for not divulging that the night before in my inebriated state. I explained that I had no intention of meeting anyone that night, nor did I expect anyone to be asking for my phone number, so when he did, I was surprised and caught off guard. Rather than explain it to him that night, I had decided to give him my number and then if he called, which I really didn’t think he would, I would set him straight then and I did.

When we had talked the next day, he stated that he felt some connection to me and really didn’t want to let me disappear totally out of his life, although he respected my honesty and the fact that I was involved, he also noted that clearly my relationship must be a little rocky because I had been out the night before dancing with him. I had also allowed him to kiss me once. I was afraid that he was onto my fib, but he pretended to believe it.

He asked if perhaps we could go have a coffee at some point and just talk. I agreed that it would probably be OK to do that, as long as he didn’t expect anything and accepted that I was not available. I again, didn’t really think it would happen and I ended the conversation that I would call him.

For ten days or more I never heard a peep from him and I was beginning to feel less apprehensive about the whole experience. Then earlier last week he called. I was at work and heard my cell phone ringing in my purse. Not expecting it to be him, I answered without looking at the display. At first I didn’t recognise the voice and thought it was my friend Kurby. I’m so happy I didn’t call him by name, but decided on the safer route of continuing light banter until I figured out who it was. It didn’t take long for it to sink in, by the second sentence I was filled with dread as I realised who I was speaking with.

I reminded him I was at work, when he asked if I was busy. He sarcastically remarked that he knew that I was at work and then told me what time I start and finish. Just to let me know that he was paying attention during our conversations that first night we met. He explained that he had been to Florida and that is why I never heard from him. Then he continued to tell me that he has done nothing but think about me the whole time, and how much I had shook his world, just by my presence. There were other nice comments thrown at me and I must admit that I was flattered. I think everyone loves to hear how wonderful they are even if it’s coming from an unreliable source.

He never asked to see me during this conversation, but before he hung up he told me the purpose of the call was for me to know that I couldn’t get rid of him that quickly. That he was going to wait patiently for my boyfriend to screw up for good.

I hung up the phone and felt nervous about his determination, but then appeased myself with the knowledge that he could be just all talk. He will certainly grow tired of the game after awhile.

Two days passed and my phone rang again. I quickly looked at the display and thought it said Kurby. If I had realised it said Marty, I would not have picked up.

"Hey there!" I hadn’t spoken to Kurby in awhile so I was smiling when I answered.

"Well hello! How in the hell are you?"

"I’m just great!" At this point, I still thought I was talking to Kurby.

Then he started to laugh, and I realized it was Marty. "So things are going great are they? "

"Yes they are just perfect, thanks for asking."

"OK, then asshole, guess I’ll let you go and I’ll call you back when things aren’t so great."

"All right bye bye."

His last comment seemed strange until it became clear that "things" was in reference to my boyfriend and not my life in general.

I hung up quickly and I started to think about how I was not going to answer the phone to him anymore. I know, you are probably wondering why I didn’t tell him to stop calling me and be nasty with him. I’m not sure why, except that I am typically not a nasty person and being that way is difficult for me even if I don’t owe the person anything. The other issue is that he does intimidate me by his less than savoury background and current affiliations. I didn’t want to piss him off. I preferred to remain pleasant enough, but hoped that he would tire of the whole thing and start focusing his attention on someone else who would be more deserving.

The next evening at work, my phone rang once again, and I looked at the display noticed it was him but I answered it anyway. The conversation started out with usual greetings and then he started to tell me how he couldn’t stop thinking about me, and even though I had a boyfriend he wanted me to know that he had just come into a pile of money and would like nothing more than to spend it on someone like me. He asked what I was doing on the weekend and I told him I was taking my daughter shopping. He asked if he could come and when I said no, he informed me that he had a pile of credit cards and would love to buy me some clothes.

I declined the offer. Next he asked if I would go to Mexico with him for a month. I said no. The offer was reduced to two weeks. My answer was no.

"What about going to Las Vegas for a three day weekend? You can tell your boyfriend you are going to a seminar."

"No."

"Look, I’m going to be straight with you, I really, really felt something that night on the dance floor and I’m sitting here thinking to myself, that I only have a good ten years left to live and there is nothing I would like more than to spend it with someone that cares. So jump on board baby and forget the job. I’ve got more than enough money to take care of you. I’m thinking maybe I should be going out and buying a ring or something."

"No, you shouldn’t be going to get a ring. I’m not quitting my job. I have a good 25 years to work and I’m not about to give up my job for anybody."

"I need to see you. Can we just meet for a drink on Sunday? That can’t hurt can it?"

At this point, I felt too confined by being at work and unable to talk openly to him because of the lack of privacy and it seemed like a good idea. I would meet him for a drink and tell him to lose my number, stop calling me and get over it.

"Sure, I’ll meet you on Sunday. What time and where?"

"Let’s meet at XXXXX on the Queensway at 3:30pm. Do you know where it is?"

"Yes, I know where it is, 3:30pm Sunday at XXXXX."

"Right, now you better show up!"

"I’ll be there and if for some reason I can’t make it, I’ll call you in the morning and let you know, but I’ll be there."

"Ok, I’m trusting you to show up Shelly, I really need to see you."

"I’m going to be there."

"Alright babe, see ya later."

I hung up and felt somewhat relieved because I knew that it would be rectified on Sunday. I would be able to explain diplomatically that I was not interested in pursuing a relationship with him and that he needed to move on.

Saturday while my daughter and I were shopping, he called. I didn’t answer because I had left my phone in the trunk while we were traipsing in and out of stores. I could see he had called, but he never left a message. I decided whatever it was it could wait until tomorrow.

Sunday, I made up an excuse for going out. Not that I have to explain my every movement but as a matter of course, my mother usually wants to know where I’m going and who with. I didn’t explain to her that I had met a person who was starting to resemble a stalker. No need to worry her, besides, once I met and spoke to him, he would be out of my life.

I arrive at the designated meeting place, a bar, and walked inside. I was 15 minutes late. I am typically late for everything. He was nowhere to be seen. I chose a seat at the bar, close to the door and ordered a beer. At 4:00 pm, he still had not shown and I was beginning to think that he had been there and left, or he was waiting somewhere else. I debated on just leaving and going home, but I really wanted to talk to him and make him understand that I was not about to jump into a serious relationship with him in the near or distant future. I opted to call his number. On the third ring, he answered and I skipped the greetings and immediately jumped to "Where are you?"

"Ohhh, you’re good. You call me at home and you ask me where I am. That’s funny."

"Ok, let me rephrase that for you. Where should you be?"

"Oh, did you go to the wrong room at YYYYY?"

"You didn’t say we were meeting at YYYYY, you said to meet you at XXXXX."

"I did?"

"Yes you did, and you know it. You even told me the name of the band that was playing today, remember?"

"Right! Are you there right now?"

"Yes I am. I’m sitting at the bar drinking a beer."

"I’ll be there in twenty minutes babe. See you soon."

The band started to play at 5:00 and they are one of my favourite blues bands. An older couple had entered the now packed bar about 20 minutes before and had sat next to me. They were very entertaining and for a little while, I had forgotten that I was being stood up by an asshole that I didn’t even want to date. Finally at 5:25pm, I said goodbye to the older couple and excused myself. I decided that I had most definitely been stood up and I did not want to risk him showing up two hours later and me still being there.

I now had the perfect out. I no longer felt the need to be nice. He had done the ultimate transgression of dating and I immediately changed his name in my cell phone to "Do Not Answer".

But what I really don't understand is what happened to change things? It went from this guy wanting to buy me a ring one day, to not showing up for the meeting he just HAD to have, two days later?