2 for the price of 1

I am not used to having Saturdays off. And this weekend, I found myself with no place to be until 6 pm on Saturday evening.

The conversation with the manfriend on Friday night, led me to understand that he was doing housework all day. Painting, hanging, installing and repairing. No, he did not want my help. He was busy. I got the hint. I'd just have to entertain myself all day.

I decided to call on Saturday and see if I could convince him to change his mind. No luck. I really would have to find something to do.

So I called, the alternative, the filler-inner. The friend I call when the manfriend is too busy to entertain me. There was no plan. I thought we'd kill time at Chapters. But first we had brunch, then ended up going shopping at Dartmouth Crossing. An afternoon well spent and well enjoyed.

At one point, I turned to GK and said, "It's a good thing you're around. You're kind of like a pseudo-boyfriend. A backup. Just in case."

And even though the pseudo-boyfriend doesn't get nearly the priveleges the manfriend gets, it's nice to have someone to hang around with on a Saturday afternoon. And thankfully, he was happy to oblige.

If you knew what I know

Sometimes, I think my head is smarter than the rest of me.

It knows things. Things I don't even remember knowing, or can't even figure out why I'd know it. And my head just seems to know. Usually, it's a good thing. It feels kind of like Spidey senses. I just know, I have a feeling. And all I can use to explain it is, "because" or "I'm not sure, I just think that".

Of course, for every bit of knowledge, you seem to pay a price. People always seem to want to know how I know things. Or if I can help explain it to them. Nope, sorry, I can't. I just know. Sometimes there are facts, figures and supporting quotes in my head, but I have trouble articulating them when I'm put on the spot. Don't question what I know! Know that I just know things!

Knowing is half the battle. And the other half, I'm pretty sure my intuition is making a damn good stab at it for me. Woman's intuition. That's how I know.

venting

I am at work. In about 1 hour and 20 minutes, I will be home in my bed. That's when things will be better. It will be quiet there. I miss the stillness that usually comes with night shift and early mornings.

It is quiet enough here. There is only one patient, in the waiting room. But there are people talking. And I've been timing, said person has been talking constantly for about 3.5 hours. And I'm about to lose my mind. If it was professional , I'd wear earplugs. But instead, I'm hiding in my hood. But nothing is working. Chat. Chat. Chat. What makes me mad... said person has asked me to 'be quiet' on several occasions. Can't do the same though. Heaven forbid. So instead I will sit here, and wait till it's time to go home.

Do you see what I see?

I love my new glasses. They're funky and fun.

They were a big decision. I've been wearing contacts for the past year or so. I've always felt a little out of place in my previous glasses. I've never liked wearing glasses until now. Now I love them.

The other day, I did need my contacts for an outing. And went I went to find them, something terrible happened. They're gone, just like that. No longer where I left them. They were on the dresser the day before. Now they're not on the dresser, or under the dresser. Or next to it. Or anywhere.

I can't help but wonder if they disappeared out of protest, mixed with a side of jealousy (of course).

After these messages

Hi Folks

Yes, I'm aware that the writer's strike is finally over. No, I technically haven't been on strike.
Sadly, my computer has, then my internet was. Then it was the computer again. Then the internet again, and again, and again.

The good news is this: I think this time we've finally got it working. I've got a new router. And in two weeks, I"ll have a new Internet Provider. Yep, this one sucks so bad that we're switching companies.

So I promise, as long as the internet co-operates, that I will be back. If nothing else, wait two weeks till 'the other guys' come and install our internet.

And then I'll tell you all the things I know. Or at least a good chunk of them.

Resolved

Welcome to 2008!

In 2007 I only made one New Year resolution. I wasn't sure what to resolve last year. But after a bit of thinking, I decided that my resolution would be to stop dating unsuitable men.

In February, I ended up dating someone new. I wondered about it, is this a suitable match for me? or an unsuitable one. I soon forgot about it.

Well, now it's 2008, and I'm still daying the man that I started dating in Feb of 2007, so if he's lasted this long, he must be somewhat suitable ;)

Which means, for the first time in my life, I think I actually kept a New Years resolution.

This year, I'm not jinxing it. I'm not resolving any aspect of my life.

I-move

Today, I thought I would spice up my usual cardio routine at the gym. I spotted a skipping rope.
I used to love skipping as a kid, so I thought I'd give it a try.

I've recently become one of those people who tucks their ipod into the waist of their jogging pants if they need both their hands... like I did in order to securely hold on to the skipping rope.

It took me a few tries to get going, but before I knew it, I was on a role. Skip, skip, skip. Until, I felt my knee kind of clicking. The movement felt awkward. I couldn't figure out what was wrong, so I stopped. And when I went to put my hand on my knee, i noticed it was unusually square and shaped precariously like an Ipod. So i very carefully, and subtlety reached into my pants, removed my ipod from them, and decided that maybe the stairclimber was a better bet. At least there is a spot to rest my ipod there.

Resurrection

It's time. Time to put fear and loathing aside. It's time to resurrect my blog.

I know, I may not have any readers left. It's a problem I've created unto my own. But nonetheless, I will try. You see, I'm making changes. Big changes. And in order to make changes, one must take action. How can I be the great and infamous Tracy Lowe if I don't even try. So alas, I'm resurrecting my blog.

It all started after I finished a writing course this term. I loved it. I love writing. I'd like to be able to do it as a freelancer. So it's high time I started up again. And maybe, just maybe, one day, I'll figure out how to make it work.

Hold on to you seats, folks. We're all in for a bumpy ride.

Secret

They look at me as if they know my secrets. Some more than others, but definitely more some than other. And we all know, secrets spread like wild fire.

She greets me with a slightly different tone. There is a hint of what sounds like condescension, but I know it's just shame. My secret shames her. I can tell because her cheeks turn pink and she looks at me with a sideways glance.

Another someone looks at me as if they were trying not to giggle. But as soon as she greets me, an incredible smile spreads across her face.

I'm not sure how to react. Do I bring it up, laugh it off and try to defend myself. Or do I plead ignorant and pretend I don't have secrets - especially not this one.

She wasn't going to tell me she told my secret. But I'm glad she told me. At least now I know why they look at me differently, why they turn red and try not to laugh in my presence. Why they ask certain questions and steer clear of others.

I can hear them in my head when I'm not around. "Tracy? Our Tracy? No! I can't believe it."
It's met with both skepticism and disappointment.

I can hear her voice telling the story. She tackles the skeptic comments with such gusto and flair that I can hear them laughing along with her. Her stories are always so out there that everyone listens eagerly. The damage is done.

And I wonder, why me? Why did she have to tell my story. If nothing else, could she not have replaced me with another one of her friends, or told the story as the friend of a friend? It's too late now. It's told. My secret is out there.

So for now, I think I'm just going to smile pretty -- and watch my back.

In someone elses words

I used to hate being called cute. Little kids and animals are cute. I wanted to be stunning. For years, and years, I've tried to fight it. Now of course, I"m a little more accepting. Nonetheless, I laughed out loud when I read this.


"He told me I was cute in the moonlight. I wished he'd said beautiful. Cute made me feel like a garden gnome."

~From Miriam Toews, A complicated kindness

Reform

Out of sheer boredom and insatiable restlessness, I decided to go shopping. Yesterday's yoga class left me with a hankering for a Yoga mat of my own and some new pants.

I went to Winners. The last time I was there they featured a veritable plethora of yoga mats. Different sizes, colours, and most importantly thickness levels. Today, they had 3. None of which were too my liking.

I looked for some pants, but having a very particular design in mind, I again, found nothing.

So I wandered the store. Purses, shoes, jewelry, tops, skirts and kitchen stuff. I found some stuff that I would like to own. So I carried it around with me. Then all of a sudden, the nagging little voice came into my head and reminded me that although the items I picked out were quite lovely and reasonably priced, I didn't need them. Sure, I could create a need for them. But really, it was just more stuff to take up more space and waste more money.

After I left Winners, I stopped at Shoppers Drug Mart for a minute. I got sucked into the makeup section. And the same thing happened. I looked at lovely new eyeshadows that I wanted to own. And lovely new blush. Then I remembered, I have a ton of makeup already. So I got what I went in for and left.

You should be proud of me. And if nothing else, my Visa balance thanks me. Besides, I'm busy scheming a vacation to Scotland at the moment. More to come on that later.

Insecurity

Do you remember the opening scene of Beauty and the Beast? Either the stage musical or the movie will do. Belle walks through the town. Everyone knows everyone, they smile, say hello and offer the same things every day. It's a habit, it's a pattern.

My morning usually goes like that. Every morning when I walk through the door of the buliding, I smile, wave and/or nod at the security staff on my way by. They always wave back. I then pick up the mail from the main floor mail slot. I take the elevator (closest to security) to the 5th floor. I drop my stuff in the office, check my email, then my voicemail. Then, I go get coffee.

As I waited by the the elevator this morning, with 2 coffees and one bottle of Orange Juice, one of the security guards called out to get my attention. I couldn't tell if he called me by name or by just saying 'excuse me". He walked hastily towards me. Stood a little too close for my liking (only about 2.5 feet between us, I like 3-4) and then said: "What is your job title?"
"My job title?"
" Yes. your job title"
So I told him. No abbreviations. No BS-ing. I gave him my very official job title. I even included the name of the organization I work for since it is a part of my job title. I gave him the two job titles I hold in the organization.
He thanked me, muttered something about being curious and walked away.

The man who was also waiting for the elevator looked at me with a look that bordered on puzzled and commiserating. He was just as confused as I was.

Strange. Very strange. and now, I can't help but feeling a little insecure around security.

Defeat

I don't know what else to do. I don't know where else to look. On April 21, I had 3 tickets to Cirque du Soleil. Now I have none. Not one. No tickets, anywhere to be found.

My room is the cleanest it's ever been. Ever. I was sure they would turn up when I did the top to bottom clean of my room. They didn't.

I was doing an awful lot of crafting around the time of purchase. So tonight, I reorganized all the craft stuff. It's the cleanest it's ever been, and I still have no tickets.

I looked in all the coat pockets. I even looked in all the shoe drawers, the bathroom cupboard, the kitchen bookshelf. I've looked under everything in the house. Still nothing.

I went to the box office today, but they don't replace lost tickets. Which I guess means I'm SOL.
I'll need to replace at least two of the tickets because they were for 2 someone elses. If any one knows of anyone with tickets to sell, I'll pay whatever it is they're asking.

I've admitted defeat. I don't think there is anywhere else to look. At this point I'm thinking they might have accidentally gotten thrown out. And it sucks big time. Because all I've wanted for many many years is to get to a Cirque du Soleil show. It was so close, so within reach. And for some stupid reason, I just let go.

Letters to myself

Dear outside world,

I've been so self absorbed and busy, that I've neglected you. I'm sorry. Please don't take it personally.

Since we last spoke, I celebrated a birthday.... 27!!!! me!!!! I'm excited. Twenty six kicked some serious ass... at 27 I feel like I'm unstoppable. Why yes, the world is my oyster... and I do love pearls!

Today, I infused a tad of 'oh-so-fabulous' to my day.
Try dark roast coffee with a shot of espresso. It's rich, velvety, smooth and DIVINE. Yum yum yum.

I also went to my favourite shoe store. The shoe salesman there said, I haven't seen you in a long time! How have you been? It was just like going home.

I worked. A whole 13 hours. Not so fabulous. So I dressed for success, and in my new favourite shoes, and my new favourite dress, with (you guessed it,) my new favourite belt, I felt fabulous. Stressed, but well dressed.

And finally, last but not least... the jewelry show is fast approaching. Sunday. The big day! If you're free... drop by! Send me an email if you need my address.
See you there

The infamous, and occasionally disapearing, Tracy Lowe