A Series of Unfortunate Events

So life realizes that it's bored again and decides it wants to fuck with me. Again. For entertainment value.

Let's start at point A, shall we? Point A being Christmas day, which is where everything went downhill. Actually, the downhill trek began in small, imperceptible baby steps a week or so before Christmas.

Because my as-good-as-dead colleagues haven't returned from their vacations on the dates they stated in their leave applications, I've been putting in 12 hours a day at work for the past 2 weeks which is why:
- I couldn't spend as much time as I wanted with a friend before he left for good
- I didn't have time to wax and I now look like Sasquatch after a year in hibernation
- I haven't been sleeping right
- I couldn't do anything about the Mother of All Hangovers which lasted 2 whole days after Christmas eve (I staggered through work on both days)
- Also because of my long hours at work, I haven't had the time to shop for something to wear to the New Year's party I'm supposed to go to.
- I've been trying on clothes that I already own and have realized just how much weight I've put on. Snarl.

Ah, but look at me. I'm still standing, still rolling with the punches and still going with the flow. Brava signorina!

Yeah, whatever. Fuck it. I'm getting drunk as a skunk on New Year's.

Michael Bublé doing Johnny Cash & Michael Jackson

This is just cute.

Groan

This is my Christmas tree. From top to bottom.

I'm so freaking proud of it. It turned out really great this year.

I love Christmas. Even though I don't believe, it's my favourite time of the year.

I don't care what it originally stands for, I love it because it's pretty and warm.

It's the one time of year that I will go to Church without too much of a fuss.

But that's only to make my parents happy. It's hard for them to accept atheist children.

This year, my sister and I slipped out of midnight mass and drank coffee in a nearby restaurant. We made it back to church just as my parents were coming out and did our best to look radiant and blessed.

But now, 2 days since then, I'm still nursing a bastard of a hangover.

Do they sell Alka-Seltzer in Kuwait?

Also, this (below) is my favourite Christmas tree hanging. I bought a boxful at IKEA a couple of years ago. I haven't seen them anywhere since. GIMME!

Au revoir, mon ami, mon amour.

I thought I cried because

I was sad because

I was lonely because

You left me behind.



I cried because

I was sad because

I was lonely because

I had to leave you behind.

And move on.

Who da man?

30 minutes after I stepped into the work place, I was

- Checking mail (work AND personal)

- Burning 12 copies of a particular DVD

- Playing a fast-paced game of Literati

- Talking to my mother on the phone

- Thinking of the noisiest way to wake Le Garçon up

- Listening to Sade's Jezebel

- Reading up on Stem Cell Research

- Drinking a piping hot tea

... all at the same time.

A moment of a day in the life of me, multi-taskeur extraordinaire.

Yes, No or Maybe?

I hate to admit it, but Greg Behrendt might just have been onto something when he said "He's just not that into you".

A friend and I were waiting in the car last night, freezing our butts off, while Le Garçon and Princess Boy were shopping for toys (don't ask). We got to talking about girl stuff, as is bound to be the case when 2 women get 5 seconds of privacy.

It occurred to us how our idea of "The One" had changed since we were little girls.

When you're 14 and have just discovered that boys are not icky after all, you're full of hope and love and great expectations.
Surely there was a young, handsome, well-mannered boy out there that liked romantic music, slow dancing, walks on the beach and shoe-shopping. Wasn't there?

And then you get to 21 and are just horny. All he has to be is straight and not smell like a sewer rat.

By 25 though, you've kinda been everywhere and done it all. If you're lucky enough to not be married or pregnant already, you're ready to slow it down a little. Common ground and conversation suddenly become more important. Flashy cars and expensive restaurants are nice enough, but laughter and like-mindedness suddenly take on a whole new charm.

And then she said "But one day, you meet someone that doesn't meet a single one of your criterion. Not one. But something clicks, and you just know that he's The One."

Under her breath she muttered "And then it just doesn't work out."

I explained that even though most people and self-help books would tell you to just remember the good times and be happy, I personally found it more helpful to think of all the times you wanted to rip his head from his body and feed it to the sharks. It helps to think of all the crap you WOULDN'T have to live with.

"But what if the only bad thing that happened was that it didn't work out?"

"Then" I said, "that's his biggest fault of all. That he was fool enough to let you go even though you were so great together."

I bet she thought I was being naive.

She said "It doesn't work that way, Ri. Sometimes there are 'circumstances'"

CIRCUMSTANCES, MY BIG BROWN ASS!

Then, in a (rare) moment of absolute brilliance, I replied "I hate to be the one to have to tell you this, but that's just total crap. If he wanted it enough, it would have happened. You just weren't what he wanted most of all. If both people in a relationship, *NOT* just one of them, want it to work bad enough, fuck everyone and everything else, it will. The sooner you accept that, the sooner you'll be able to move on.
The idea of 'circumstances' is like God. They're both comforting thoughts, but they both don't exist."

So close! @#%$^@%&!

By the third week of my boss being on vacation and leaving me in charge of the workplace, I was bursting with pride and self-confidence. Everything had gone smoothly...more or less. A few glitches along the way (refer to previous post, thank you) wasn't enough to make it a catastrophic disaster.

But then the 4th week happened and, in spite of having one of the best weekends ever (*glint*), without warning, everything came down around me at work and poo poo -really- hit the fan.

He's back today, and I've braced myself for a huge, smelly shitstorm.

I'm not worried. It's not like he can do without me or anything. MUAHAHAHAHAHA.