Monday, June 30, 2008

The non-stoppage

I could probably fill a book with the goings-on of the last few weeks, I tell yas.

Last weekend was my sister's wedding. On the thursday night before the wedding, I get home from baseball to a message that my dad is at the hospital, having been hit in the face with a softball at his own game. Nicky tell's me I should drop the kids off at Tony's and go sit with mom at the hospital. She's a wreck, needless to say. The ball, I should mention, knocked Dad out cold. I'm sure for a few moments she was probably wondering if he was dead. I would have been.

Oddly enough, that same night, at my game, the pitcher on the opposing team got hit with a line drive to the neck. As I'm telling my mom about this, the gentleman across the row from us mention that was his wife. He commented on my uniform and says "So, you're on blue? You're not the one that hit her, are you?' No, I can barely hit, let alone hit hard enough to take someone out. But thanks.

We end up having to follow an ambulance down to RVH, as dad needs to see an emergency ophthamologist. There's some concern about 'damage' - meaning, in short, he could possibly lose his eye. As luck would have it, had he not been wearing glasses, although they did cause some damage, he definitely WOULD have lost the eye. Mom and I drive down there, and wait for the ass-hat ophthamologist (prescibed a bunch of stuff, but forgot to put a quantity on the most important script) to do his thing. It's not looking good at this point. The words 'Hamburger MEat' were used in conjuction with my dad's cornea. He looks like a bag of shit at this point. We are told he has to come back the next two days in a row, and might not be able to make the wedding.

Fortunately, despite things looking dicey on friday (after coming back from the hospital, he was pretty much in bed all day), be saturday, he was there to walk nick down the aisle, get some pictures taken (with large sunglasses to cover up the gore), and through most of dinner. I was glad to see him make it, because it was hard seeing Nick so upset, and conflicted, since it was a freak accident with no one to blame. Things always go wrong at weddings, but to have your dad not being there because of a rogue softball, well, that's pretty fricking wrong.

The wedding itself went off with very few hitches. I had taken the day before off to help with preparations and do the fun/girly mani-pedi day... one of our friends, Sandy brought a cooler of daquiries to the spa, complete with fancy glasses and parasols. By the end of the day though, after running around collecting trees, and the rehearsal dinner, and such, I was pretty wiped, in light of my 2.5 hrs of sleep.

We got a mostly nice day with the wedding, rained for a bit right after the ceremony which through the sched off a bit, but it wasn't disastrous by any means. My girls were adorable, I just kept looking going 'I MADE THOSE!!'. I got through my solo piece without screwing up, and got lots of compliments. Nicky looked fabulous, of course, as did us wedding party members.

I spent this week just kind of recuperating, although I enjoyed some company earlier in the week. Yeah, bizarre I know, but I'm actually 'seeing someone' which is new, and pretty foreign to me, but enjoyable nonetheless. The whole concept takes getting used to, but it's really nice, even if a bit overwhelming, to have someone who wants to be with me, on more than just the 'friend' or 'friendly lay' level. Someone who is willing to even deal with their own shyness and spend a weekend in a strange place with people he doesn't know, if only to spend time with me. Yeah, not really used to that. But I like it.

Which brings me to another fun-filled Pride weekend in toronto, which I will probably have to make a part two of, since I'm dead tired, and coming down with some kind of cold. Blah. Bedtime for me.

Sunday, June 1, 2008

I got all mah sistah’s with me

Today was an enjoyable day, out with the girls, just lunching and coffeeing and general shooting of the shit.

It was the type of day I have not had in a while, I've been spending most of the winter as a hermit, not doing enough to even warrant blogging about.

I found it refreshing, to hang out with not only a close friend, but also with her two other friends. I forget sometimes how meeting new people can help to offer new perspectives. It's nice that I can think of these women as my friends now as well.

I started thinking the other day that I make too many excuses for not doing things I really want to do, mostly being lack of time and/or money.

But it's crap really... I make excuses because A) I tend towards laziness sometime, B) Change is intimidating.

I have spurts of bravery, where I decide to go out and do things, or I take risks I would normally not take... with my time, and with my heart as well. I have come to realize, that especially in matters of the heart, I'm more apt to take risks when I know the repercussions are limited.

Which I guess means I don't really take risks at all. Today I left my phone number for the exceeding cute waiter that served us at lunch. Superficial courage, really, because I don't stand to lose much if that call never comes.

I'm thinking I may need to compile one of those 'Before I hit I want to' Lists. I turn 30 in two years. What can be accomplished in two years?

By the end of June, I propose that I will list 10 goals, and begin on working my way toward them.

Some may prove to be less tangible than others (for example, I feel I should make it a goal to be less cautious around people, and learn to trust more), and others may be downright petty, but they are my goals, whatever they may be. I have ideas floating around, but I'd like to have a comprehensive list before I reveal them.


So, my sister's wedding is coming up in 3-4 weeks, and I guess I must be having sympathy nervousness, because I had this bizarre dream the other night:

I'm at the wedding, and Nicky is ever the radiant bride, but as I'm looking around, something is not right. I realize that we are in a large open gymnasium, seated at plain rectangular tables.

I say to my mom 'Hey mom, didn't anybody decorate? I thought Nicky was getting a decorator." To which my mom replies 'Don't ask, and whatever you do, DON'T say anything to your sister."

So I'm wandering around, and I start hitting on my friends' brother's friend (who would be about 17... I think this is related to another situation in my life right now, only exaggerated) and I realize, we've not done the photographs yet.

"Hey Mom, did anyone get a photographer?"
"Don't ask. Don't say anything to your sister, just pretend its all okay"

Then I took my camera and took a picture of Camilla Parker-Bowles, which resulted in my camera shattering, and I laughed because she had literally broken my camera, when I took her picture.

Then I woke up.


Oh, by the way, I'm sexually frustrated beyond belief, in case anyone cares. I've found that after a while with dry spells (this particular one being a DOOZY), it becomes an 'Out of site, out of mind' situation... I'm okay if I don't think about it.

It's when the prospect of dirty lovin' rears its head, that HOLY HELL... And rear it's head, it has. Unfortunately, my need to wake up each morning and like myself has thus far prevented me from taking advantage of this special offer.

Personal code of ethics > Libido. *sigh*