Sunday, July 30, 2017

post it note July 30th 2017

Dear Mr. Scratchy;

It's just before 7:30 pm EST here, and still we are sitting at +30C with +32C humidex. I've said a million times over, I'm not designed for this heat.

I've watched my friend Marie chase after a guy getting mixed results. I say it's mixed results because she keeps sabotaging herself. Purposely doing rituals and love spells to push him towards someone else, someone she thinks is more his type physically. Yet, the more she does that, the harder she falls for him herself.  She's not listening to me when I tell her it's because she's meant to be with the guy. Sadly, I'm seeing this sort of thing in people a lot lately. Most of the witches and pagans I talk to have been blocking themselves from their own happiness, just because they think the other person will ultimately reject them. Usually over something really stupid like career or their own insecurities.  I'm talking some really strong spell crafters here too. People who can say something once and have it manifest within hours without any other effort.

Anyways, I believe Herman, you are checking in tonight, wearing dark jeans, white t-shirt and a yellow sweater...no a yellow dress shirt open over it. I want to say you were at church or something where you had to dress appropriate. Airport even. Good god man, I just see a horde of little old ladies flapping around that shirt. Dude, going out on a limb and saying I imagine you were spending the day with your grandmother, taking her to lunch or something the like. Don't ask, I just roll with what pops into my brain as I write. I can't shake the feeling you're a bit unsettled tonight.

Okay Herman; Mr. Scratchy, should you feel the need...

Saturday, July 22, 2017

Pressing to Impress

I mentioned the other day that I've started to use twitter again after not having been on it in the last few years. Still not my favourite place on the internet, but it's one of those evil necessities.  Anyways, I couldn't keep up with it this last hour, everyone in a mad rush of anger and jealousy posting at neck breaking speed. Seriously, I'm sure there are a few people out there right now with sprained fingers from posting so fast. And 98% of what they are posting are retweets or likes of other people. Not even their friends for that matter, but people they are crushing on. 

Remember the guy I mentioned I talk to on facebook and instagram through private messages? Well, I just saw him fill the twitter feed with nothing but retweets of this girl who commented she didn't remember ever meeting him. I feel half way sad for him. Then there is my friend Marie, who is so into this one guy, she's completely ignoring the fact she's got two other guys hot on her tail. And it's one big weird mess. She retweets her crush's stuff, and the guys crushing on her retweet/like that because it was in her feed.

Does anyone bother to pay attention before they hit that retweet/like button?  Definitely gives new weight to the old phrase "what goes around comes around".

Friday, July 14, 2017

Dirty Laundry 71

So yesterday, I was hanging out with Marie. We had gone for coffee and she pulled up this video on twitter shoving the phone to my hear telling me to listen and tell her what I thought of it.

Me-:"Well he's drunk."

Marie-:"He doesn't drink though."

Me-:"Then he's really stoned."

Marie-:"No. He doesn't do that."

Me-:"You're telling me that that isn't an extremely drunk depressed guy?"

she played it again twice listening to it with her eyes closed.

Marie-:"You think I'm reading too much into it?"

Me-:"No. He's picked something he knows will 100% get your attention, like right after you said you weren't going to talk to him about the situation anymore. This is his reacting to it. Reacting badly, but reacting none the less."  the building was starting to get really crowded so we left, walking around the parking lot a bit before going into the grocery.

Here's the thing. Few nights ago, we were hanging out at her place and she started talking about how when she was younger she'd be the bold one of her group and just randomly go up to a hot guy and ask him out or his name etc, for her friends. I didn't think anything of it, because we were talking about her situation with Mr. Tweets.  Well, I should have thought something of it, because we weren't in the store more than a minute when she turned spotting the Grocery Boy pointed at him. He saw us and had this look as if cold water had been thrown on him.

Then it got weird.

He started to wander from aisle to aisle circling us. Yeah, he was following us without trying to look like he was. And we were not quiet. The more Marie noticed him, the louder she got. It was like 8th grade all over again, only not as respectable. And she kept making me laugh. Like cartoon witch cackling snorting laugh.  Yeah, that bad.  Every time we passed one of the standing freezers, she started to play with her hair fixing it, blushing. 

At this point, I had groceries that needed to be paid for so I went and stood in line while she continued to wander around. I saw her talking to one of the other stock boys, blushing and stammering like a teenager before catching up to me with this look of pure triumph on her face.

Me-:"What did you do?"

She pointed to the one guy smiling like a goofball as we walked out of the building.

Marie-:"I asked what the name of your guy is."

Me-:"That's it? Seriously, what did you say?"

Marie-:"I just asked if he could tell me who the guy he was talking to's name was because my friend though he might be her nephew and she needed to double check..."

Me-:"What? What the hell? How is that going to...what the f***?" I nearly tripped over my own feet on that.

Marie-:"I said we thought his name was ----- and we needed to make sure. And guess what, it actually was." she shrugged at me lighting a smoke.

Me-:"Oh my god! Why did you do that? Now he's going to think we're related!"

Marie-:"Not like hot guy there is going to tell him. Besides, I was the one who asked, and I don't shop there so not like he's going to ever see me again."

Me-:"He's going to be all like 'dude, some chick was asking about you, says she's your aunt'; and buddy is going to ask what you looked like and figure it out. He's going to think we're related now and if he was crushing on me, he won't be anymore."

Marie-:"-----. His name which I just learned is -----."  she actually curtsied. She honestly didn't see the issue.

I spent a few hours playing it over in my head last night, wondering if she did it on purpose because she might actually be interested in him herself, or if she really didn't think the co-worker would relay the message, or if it just didn't occur to her that by saying that she would possibly creep the dude out.  It was like being back in high school all over again, or college for that matter, and those times my prettier friends snagged the guy I liked because they could.

Sunday, July 9, 2017

Post it note July 9th 2017

I can't be the only one who finds themselves having to jump around from one piece of social media to the other all day long, in order to keep up with people?  Seriously, no matter how many people on instagram I follow, I only ever see the same three people's feeds. Then, when I hop over to facebook, I only see feeds from these two main people, then twitter for another handful, and of course youtube for the other handful. It's exhausting. Emotionally, physically, mindnumbingly exhausting.

Which is why I no longer care about anyone or anything and am so out of touch with the world. 

I've just literally returned to twitter in the past few days, after not having been on it in over two years. It hasn't gotten any calmer that's for sure.  I still prefer youtube. Think I always will.

Anyways, was talking to someone on instagram, about finding your place in the world. Your tribe online sort of thing. I don't know man, just when I think that I've found mine, I end up being wrong. Like realizing not only do I not gel with the main people and therefore don't fit in, but once the surface noise is scratched off, just how much we rub each other the wrong way. Sandpaper on a teflon pan wrong. 

The worst of it, there is this one guy who drives me nutballs. Like, sort of in a good way sort of in a I want to stab him with shrimp forks in the thighs sort of way.  We've talked a few times on facebook and instagram...in direct/private messages. But, open comments, I'm lucky if he gives me a thumbs up.  What's up with that?  And he's pulling one of those elitist high school moves where if I don't speak to him for a while he cruises in at me, sending me a random "Hey man".  Just enough of a tap on the shoulder to have me checking my damned messages all day like a really bad cliched movie character.

I swear, the internet has made social clues worthless.

Anyways, Mr. Scratchy; Herman. I think you're checking in tonight, dressed in a pair of grey-green sweat pants; and a faded light blue-white t-shirt with the logo for some old 80's movie...Gremlins. Yeah, I'm going on record saying it's a Gremlins shirt. Don't ask, I don't know just the image that popped into my head while writing this. I think you're standing around your kitchen wearing those little wire rimmed glasses, making a cup of tea, chopping up bananas for...I really want to say your dog. I have mentioned way in the past that I think you have a dog, so I think you're hanging out with your dog in your kitchen, just unwinding from your day. I said once before too that I think you've taken up tarot cards in the past, and so I think tonight you've decided to grab them and have them spread out across the table.

And as always Herman, dream of me. Preferably doing something cool. 

Tuesday, June 13, 2017

Dirty Laundry 70

I was hanging out last night with Marie, and the first thing out of her mouth was "how'd it go this week with grocery guy?"

Me-:"I avoided the grocery like the plague until Sunday. He doesn't work on Sundays. I was leaving my building, and as I stepped onto the sidewalk, he literally turned the corner into my path."

Marie-:"Great! Did you talk?"  she was glowing with giddiness.

Me-:"I turned and ran in the other direction through the parking lot."

Marie-:"You need to say yes to him when he asks you out."

Me-:"He's not going to ask me out."

Marie-:"Trust me, he will."

Me-:"Here's what's wrong with that statement. A, he's too young like fifteen maybe even twenty years younger too young. And B, I'm not attracted to him. If he does ask, I have to say no. Which will suck because I know way too well what it feels like to be rejected. Or I'll end up feeling so crappy that I will say yes and get stuck in a situation that is bad for everyone."

Her happy glow seemed to slip a bit and I know she was thinking then of her own relationship and how she's not happy either in her current one. Didn't stop her from trying to talk me into going to the grocery with her though before they closed.

Marie-:"You need to get back out there and start dating again."

Me-:"Aware of that." I felt like saying I didn't need everyone around me to keep drilling that information into my brains.

Marie-:"Why not do a dating site then?"

Me-:"Done those in the past and they brought nothing."

Marie-:"Well, give it another try. Can't be that bad?"

I grabbed her laptop and pulled up a dating site that lets you do a search without having to sign up for it first.

Me-:"Let's see. Woman looking for man, 33 to 40, Caucasian, never married, no kids." she was still smirking while the thing did it's search. "No matches."

Marie-:"Widen your search."

Me-:"Fine. 32 to 41"   The page then spun again and a few photos popped up. "Three. There are three men in the whole country who match. Two in Vancouver, one in Montreal."

Marie-:"Widen your search again."

Me-:"To what? That's all of Canada. And it's telling me there are only three men who match up." I was actually getting a bit pissed off at this point as we checked out their profiles. One was clearly older than he'd listed himself to be, another was dressed in hunting gear, the last one who was marginally good looking didn't have a single photo where he wasn't sitting in a bar.

Marie-:"Message this one."

Me-:"We're sorry, but you don't match their desired search qualities."  Bar guy wanted someone who was a Catholic, the older one wanted someone under thirty, and the hunter just wanted someone in their area only.

Marie-:"Widen your search then." she literally opened her arms gesturing towards the walls.

Me-:"What part of that's all of Canada are you not understanding?"

Marie-:"The Canadian part. Expand into the states."

Me-:"And the point of that would be what now? If I can't afford to travel across the province to meet a man, how would I travel out of the country itself?"
    
Marie-:"Well, who says you have to travel to them?"

Me-:"I'm not going to win this am I?"

Marie-:"No, widen your search."

Friday, June 9, 2017

post it note June 8th 2017

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

It's just before 12:00am EST here. I spent most of the day chatting with Marie and trying to write the next two parts of the fairy tale. Here's the thing. My heart's not in it anymore. Nor is it in doing reviews, or the video projects or much of anything.  How do you bounce back from that? 

I imagine you checking in to this tonight Herman, dressed in black track pants and an orange t-shirt and grey hoodie. I think you've got a cup of take-away coffee beside you and a plate of nachos. I also believe you are trying to get something written in script form, I'm guessing for a promo. Assuming you are doing the indie shows and have to write your own stuff.

Honestly, I don't know what pulled me in here tonight to post this?  I really want to ask if you injured your left leg? There is just something nagging in the back of my mind to ask so...asking, did you Mr. Scratchy, injure your left leg in the last week?  Okay Herman, that's it for me tonight. I need to figure out how to avoid the dude from the grocery store that Marie is determined to set me up with.

As always Mr. Scratchy, dream of me.

Wednesday, June 7, 2017

Dirty Laundry 69

I went for coffee with my friend Marie. Right off I could tell something was bothering her from the way she slumped in her seat. When I asked, she showed me a message from twitter. This guy has started to follow her on there, and he's now following everyone she is. But it bummed her out a bit.

Marie-:"Just look at what he posted."  she showed me his tweet from last night. I didn't see anything wrong with it, just song lyrics. "I posted something and two minutes later he posted this." I still didn't get the bad to be honest. She continued to show me the last few weeks of posts between them. Every time she posts something, he does the same theme. She talked about the band Flock of Seagulls, he posted a cartoon of seagulls. She posted about a ring she was wanting, he talked about a piece of jewellery with the same coloured stone.

Me-:"Dude! Actions speak louder than words. He's so into you!"

Marie-:"I don't think so."

Me-:"Trust me! He is. He's making a point to get into what you're into." damn, if there was a man on this planet who wanted my attention enough to interact like that with me on instagram or youtube, I'd be listening to what his non-words were saying; not pouting over it.

While we were there, this one guy who works at the grocery store walked in. Marie turned around in her seat and started to giggle.

Marie-:"That one again."  referring to the fact this guy had been in the coffee shop three times while we were there.  And he stood in line, of which there wasn't one, just stood there in the middle of the building far enough away from the counter and too close to where we were sitting, just staring at us. "Oh he just turned away all red."

Me-:"Cause he saw you staring at him."

Marie-:"He's embarrassed he got caught staring at you." she had the biggest smirk on her face as he ordered his donut. We started to get up to leave, when the grocery store guy took the seat beside our's. "Do you want to stay for a few more minutes?" Marie sat back down giggling.

Me-:"I thought you needed to get home for the dogs?" I could feel him staring at us, and it caused me to blush. I ended up having to sit down again because Marie was not getting back up. The dude had sat so he was facing her direction.

Marie-:"Okay, I need a smoke so outside." and then she practically dragged me out of the building.  "He was looking at you the whole time. I totally think he was trying to get the guts to ask you out!"

Me-:"He sat so you were in his direct view not me."

Marie-:"But he was looking at you. Surprised he didn't break his neck the way he was twisting it. How old you think he is?"

Me-:"I don't know? In his twenties maybe? Too young for me."

Marie-:"Age is but a number. Besides, he's not your future husband. You deserve a fling." she winked at me as she started to head towards home.

Me-:"You say that like you've seen something." I turned following her. She laughed again. "You did see something. What the hell did you see?"

She just shrugged and told me to have fun before October. Yeah, sometimes being friends with a psychic can be complicated.

Tuesday, April 11, 2017

Dirty Laundry 68

I was out for coffee with my friend Marie. She's one of the girls who works at the occult store here in town. And she's been trying to talk  me into going with her to this convention in the fall in the states. I've been reluctant because, well that's just me. Anyways, Vegas was brought up again. While we were talking, she got a message via twitter from The Guy In Vegas, once again asking her to come out there.  Now, she's shown me his photo before, but he was wearing sunglasses and a baseball cap. So didn't recognize him. Then she showed me the twitter message, and the video attached pointing him out.

Me-:"Oh my god! He's The Guy In Vegas?"

Marie-:"Yeah, why?"

Me-:"You never told me HE's the guy!"   the guy - her guy, is infamous in the occult world and works for one of those reality tv shows. And dude, I've had a crush on this guy myself after seeing him in a documentary few years back. They met few years ago at one of these conventions.  Needless to say, my mouth fell open and I think I started to drool even. "Damn! What is stopping you from flying out there right now?"

Marie-:"Flying. I hate flying."    hence why she really wants someone to go with her. She needs to have someone pry her full of alcohol and keep her from jumping out of the plane to her death.

Me-:"Then take a bus. You need to go and like marry this dude. Now!"

Marie-:"I'll go if you go with me." 

Me-:"You do realize the second you hook up with this guy you're going to want to stay there."

Marie-:"No I won't."

Me-:"Yes you will."

Marie-:"Yes I will." she went five shades of red in about two seconds. "So you'll go with me?"

Me-:"Maybe."  

Monday, April 10, 2017

post it note April 10th 2017

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

I came into the blog this afternoon with a plan. By the time I got my coffee and opened the page to write, plan was forgotten.  It's one of those days where even though I'm doing fairly well, the quiet is getting to me. Not the physical literal quietness of the place. That's always a happy peaceful few moments in the building I live. But the everything has slowed down and I don't have any obligations, quiet. It's moments like this I miss hugs. Yeah, hugs. Sitting on the sofa with the guy, or curled up in bed with him, or even just those really long hellos or goodbyes when you're standing in the hallway just loving the moment with the guy.  It's these pockets of time that get me. The quiet.  It's one of those pockets.

The other day, I'd been out most of the day, was on bus coming home. Bus stopped in front of the bar and a stack of people got on. It's a bar, they stank of beer. Have I mentioned I hate beer. Well, anyways, this old guy who was like in his 70's at lest, reached into his jacket and pulled out a bottle of men's cologne and sprayed half the bottle on himself. Did I mention he was sitting right in front of me. Yeah, I wasn't fast enough to duck, and spent the rest of the day smelling of it. Short blessing that I was headed home and not going anywhere important.

Okay, so now I've made you laugh, I need to get back to the twenty or so projects I have on my to do list.

I imagine Herman, that you're checking in today after a long day at work. I seem to think you are having a bowl of vegetable soup for dinner. The canned kind at that. I seem to think you're reading this, craving marshmallow squares for some odd reason. I think you are wearing a pair of black track pants that you've cut into shorts, runners no socks, and a light material jacket. I think you just got back from a run. Don't ask why, just roll with it. I imagine you're sitting there reading this, seriously arguing with yourself about something your buddy said to you. Maybe you went to some random palm reader or something with them so they didn't feel so embarrassed about it. And I think the reader did your tarots for you, giving you some out of the blue information that you're unable to get out of your mind.  You want to ask my thoughts on the cards...and that's the inner argue.

Oh Herman; Mr. Scratchy. These post its might seem easy but trust me, they're not.
As always, dream of me

Tuesday, March 28, 2017

All out of cute media

I'm sitting here this morning, trying to figure out some stuff. Relationship wise, if you want to call my social status on social media a relationship?  If you've been reading this for any real bit of time, you've seen me say that my aunt who is a life coach and apparent social media goddess; keeps trying to get me to turn my facebook and youtube and instagram into my gateway to romance. Which, I'm sure, millions of people can do easily, suavely and not think twice about it.
The me of twenty-five years ago, probably could have too. The me of now. Not so much. 

My aunt has this philosophy that the average person has 10 people in their lifetime fall in love with them, beautiful people have around 50, and famous people have a few hundred. Now, add in social media and the numbers sky rocket. The average person suddenly goes upwards to about 2000, beautiful people in the millions, and famous people...why bother trying to count?
So, according to my aunt, just because of the invention of youtube and instagram, I should be sporting a score of 1550, give or take twenty.

Obviously, not the case, otherwise I'd be happily married by this point. Or at the very lest, running a fan page for myself on facebook.

I made the sad mistake of actually checking my youtube stats this morning. My results were nothing that could indicate my future husband was watching me, one handed.  I've always assumed my target audience were A ) wrestlers, B ) gay men, C ) male witches, D ) men between 28-40.   It seems, not the case. According to youtube, my core audience are women in their 50's.  Yeah, I don't know how that happened either?

I guess it's time to buy a new push-up bra and a tight black dress or something.


Saturday, February 25, 2017

Dirty Laundry 67

I just got a message from Marie asking me if I knew who the new tarot reader at the cafe was?  I didn't. Have to admit, little bit hurt to learn they hired someone new. Could be why my ears have been burning for the last 3 days, not too sure.  Could also be why I feel like something has shifted last few days. At first, I thought it was just where the temperature has jumped and the pressure has dropped. But, it would seem it's something more than just that.
I just finished reading a book, one that I had read 20 years ago. Found myself crying a lot for some unknown reason while reading it this time. It's not particularly a sad story, but for whatever reason, this time around it really got to me?

And if you're wondering, no I never did hear from Yoga Guy. Then again, I wasn't putting any stock into it. Not to say it wouldn't have been nice to finally get back off the shelf, but I knew the second Pussycat told me he'd tried to play cupid that nothing would come of it.  Love him to death, he's got a good heart. But really crappy taste in men.

Jane Austen once said "for a woman to find the perfect guy, she has to write him herself".  Fits right in with my Frankenstein themes.  Would you be shocked to know that I can't even hear myself think right now because I've got my music blasting in my ear phones? Have to, the neighbour's on the other side of my kitchen wall, are going at it like rabid dogs. Seriously, I guess someone took the blue pills instead of the red.

Wednesday, February 22, 2017

post it note Feb 22nd

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

Deep breath, letting my shoulders slump, eyes closed. It's been one of those days where I've taken in everyone else's energy.  Which for me, keeps me distracted from writing. My one real love.  Anyways, I keep being told to step out of my comfort zone if I want to actually change my direction in things. I have to confess something. I've been sober now for almost two years. Yeah. no painkillers, since April of 2015. Round the same time I stopped watching company number one actually. But I digress. Damn, I had been living on those things since I was 10 years old. So roughly 30 years of my life had been spent on Demerol and Oxycodone.  I've talked about my injuries so that's really not much of a shocker.
Stepping farther out of my comfort zone, which I'm sure will be laughable to you, but I spent the other day commenting on people's youtubes. I don't comment. Ever. I just panic when I simply think of leaving a comment and never do. It's got the same irrational effect on me as phoning a man does. Sets off a fear and cold sweats. So for the first time, I spent an hour on some of my favourite youtube channels and actually left comments. 6 goth fashion tubes, 4 cooking tubes and 1 wrestling tube later; embarrassment filled but lest I didn't vomit, so that's good.  I know, I've become such an emotional hermit, and you wonder why I blog so much?

I'm not sure why I continue to address these to you Herman. We both know you're more of a figure head now than an actual man anymore. Which pretty much seals it in stone you are/were who I thought you were back in 2008. But addressing 'to Herman's buddies who might have taken over the role' is a bit long to write all the time. But hey, there has been like 5 actors over the decades that did play Herman Munster so what the hell right? The metaphor is very fitting.

Anyways, Mr. Scratchy, I think you're checking in tonight, dressed in a pair of green boxers. Yes, green. And I believe you are wearing a black t-shirt with mustard stains on it. I believe you are sitting with a cup of coffee beside you and a plate of nachos. Yes, nachos. I think you're having a real relaxed sort of night. Maybe have a Doors cd on in the background.

As always, Herman, I hope I made you smile.

Dirty Laundry 66

Pussycat-:"Tell me how it went with Yoga Guy?"

Me-:"He never messaged."

Pussycat-:"Really? I'm sure he will still."

Me-:"Okay sure."

That's how my morning started. Smooth when you think about it. Then, Marie messaged, asking me if I've had any issues with facebook lately? 

Me-:"Haven't been in there in months. Can't say."

Marie-:"Can you please? I'm having issues with messages in there. I sent one to buddy and he hasn't answered. I need to know it's working."

So I did. Everything ended up being fine, the message to her went through, her message back to me went through. Smooth right.  Yeah.

Me-:"Why wouldn't he be answering? You get into a fight?"

Marie-:"No. Don't know?"

Me-:"Has he asked you yet this week about going to Vegas?"   This guy lives there, and about three times a week, he tries to convince her to join him.

Marie-:"lol"

Me-:"I'll take that as a yes. Why do you keep turning him down? He's going to stop asking soon."

Marie-:"Everything in it's divine time remember."

Me-:"Yeah, well I've got no mind for being patient."

Marie-:"So tell me about your guy?"

Me-:"What guy? You been chatting with Pussycat?"

Marie-:"No. Why what's going on there?"

Me-:"Nothing. He's been playing cupid so nothing."

Marie-:"No, I mean the one I saw the other week for you. The one with the light hair and the pink and yellow."

So this was one of those random moments Marie, who is a witch/medium was referring to.  I'm lucky to be accurate once out of twenty when I get those random tarot moments. But Marie, she's scoring 100% every time. This happened about two weeks ago, we were talking about her daughter in law, when she just started giggling and snorting back a laugh pointed at me and declared "there's a new guy, yellow and pink and he's got light coloured hair. Pay attention."   Which, of course could mean anything. So I'm suppose to be on the watch for a guy with either light brown hair or dark blonde hair or red hair or white hair or dyed pink and yellow for all I know?

Me-:"Nothing. I'm starting to think that all the straight single men on the planet have been vacuumed up into oblivion."

Marie-:"This new guy, he's a keeper so keep an eye open."

Me-:"Eye open for a flamingo got it"

Monday, February 20, 2017

Dirty Laundry 65

My phone rang. Scared the life out of me cause other than my mother, everyone else texts. So it rang, and the caller id said it was the hospital. I went to full on panic mode. Ended up being Pussycat.

Me-:"What happened?"

Pussycat-:"What. Nothing, lost my phone so stopped in here to use the phone. Oh my god, I couldn't even think where to go to find a phone anymore. They need to bring back phone booths for when stuff like this happens."

Me-:"You bastard! What do you want?"

Pussycat-:"I met a guy!"

Me-:"The guy from Valentine's?"

Pussycat-:"What? No doll, not him he's done. Done had and no repeats remember. No I mean I met a guy for you."

Me-:"I'm not interested."    as much as I love Pussycat, I'm not sure I want to trust his taste in men. Which is sad, cause if he were straight, I'd be totally after him. Yeah, dude, that's messed up I know. The irony is not totally lost on me.

Pussycat-:"You know it cost 75 cents for this call? Oh my god, I remember when it was 10 cents for local calls."

Me-:"Well, like you said no one needs phone booths anymore."

Pussycat-:"Well, they should. Make it so much easier for when you loose your phone. But, you need to meet this guy, he's perfect for you. He's a bartender..."

Me-:"I'm not interested."

Pussycat-:"Shut up and listen. He's a bartender, met him in my yoga class. Girl! The ass on him was like a big slab of butter! I wanted to cry his ass was perfect! Like that guy from that superhero movie the British guy Cubberbutt or what is his name?"

Me-:"Benedict Cumberbatch."

Pussycat-:"Yeah that guy. He's hot."

Me-:"Yes he is. His butt is little on the flat side for me but...all puns intended."

Pussycat-:"Well I think it's perfect. Anyways, he's got a beard, long dark hair..."

Me-:"I'm really not interested. No seriously, I hate long hair on men. I'm not overly thrilled with beards either." 

Pussycat-:"He's just gotten divorced..."

Me-:"I don't date divorced men either. Give up. Thanks for thinking of me, but everything you just listed, I've dated before. Like, broken my own rules gone against my gut instincts and massively regretted it; dated before. I'm grateful you thought of me when you saw him, but he's not my type in anyway."

Pussycat-:"Okay miss thang. Miss king shit. What then is your type?"

Me-:"For starters, short hair. And I mean short hair, like if it's at the collar it's too long. Clean shaven, thick thighs. Bit of a tummy, chest hair. Men who look like their age you know. I don't want to be with a guy wondering if I should be blowing him or burping him. That too smooth skinned waxing thing men do way too often is a turn off."    when guys are like walking skeletons that's a turn off too. I've lost a lot of weight in the last year, but I have this thing about being with men who's thighs are at lest as large as my own.

Pussycat-:"The Salesman had a beard."

Me-:"Not when I first met him he didn't. And he only had the beard for like a month before he shaved it off again."

Pussycat-:"Well, pretend to be interested because I gave him your number told him to text you."

Tuesday, February 14, 2017

Dirty Laundry 64

Pussycat was drunk when he called me. Yes, called me. Not texted, but actually phoned. That's how drunk he was.

Pussycat-:"What's your perfect man?"

Me-:"Don't you mean who?"

Pussycat-:"No. what? I'm going to find you someone tonight! Girl!"

Me-:"I'll believe that when I see it. Where are you? I thought you were on a date?"

Pussycat-:"Later, later not till he gets off work. I'm with my girls."   he actually meant his drag queen friends. When he's with actual female friends he calls them by their names. "Pub crawling doll. Tell me!"

Me-:"God, I don't even know anymore."

Pussycat-:"We're going to the next one now cause, it's all good baby. I've got your instagram up dolly. I'm going to be your fairy godmother get it. Fairy. I'm your fairy god drag mother."  he mumbled something I couldn't catch and ended the call.

Here's the thing about Valentine's Day. Most people don't realize it started off as a pagan fertility rite. Names would be put into a bucket or bowl or what have you, and people would randomly draw a name, then go off and have sex. So if a half dozen couples had been trying for a long time to have kids, and nothing was working, this was their chance to see who was the cause of not having kids, without cheating. Really romantic right? Some places used masks instead of the draw. Which is where part of the whole masquerade ball came from. Party goers would have these elaborate masks and without knowing who, they would hook up with someone. Good in some ways I suppose, bad in others.  And lets not forget the fact, the sex rites were to make sure the crops were good for the coming year. Sex magick is still the best way to add energy to a spell.

Pussycat called back shortly after 8pm. Again, asking me what my ideal man would be. Again, mumbling something and having the call end. I think he was trying to show people photos while still trying to talk on the phone? Yeah, like I said, he's already drunk.  Which is sad in itself. When I met him, he had been two years sober. Now, he's toasted a lot.

So while he's being him tonight, I'm sitting here listening to the neighbours sneak into the hallway, and talk to the people they are having affairs with, or the girlfriends they have out of town, while the other neighbours fight over what restaurant they are going to, and why they feel disappointed by the lack of attention. Etc, etc, etc.

He called again while I was typing this.

Me-:"Norman Reedus. I like guys who look like Norman Reedus."   well, doesn't everyone?  He wouldn't know who any of my wrestlers are so there isn't a point in telling him.

Monday, February 13, 2017

post it note Feb 13th 2017

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

It's 9:30pm EST where I am, sitting here trying to write the next piece of the fairy tale, yawning my head off.  I posted something few weeks ago on that blog. It got five times the normal amount of hits in three hours, than I get for a post in a full week. I will assume you saw the post and know what I'm talking about. I have to admit, Herman, the fact it went unanswered sort of left me deflated.

Anyways, I just felt the need to write a quick note. Just to say hey. So hey.  My friend Marie was running the psychic fair this weekend. She told me that most of the clients wanted to know about if they were going to meet a new boyfriend/girlfriend this year? There really is only two things people want a reading for, and thats to find out about love or money. Pussycat and I had a small bet going, that he would be asked out before tomorrow night. Just when he thought he'd won the bet, one of the guys who used to be a regular at the cafe texted him. So I win. The craziest bit of serendipity happened during my chat with Marie. I commented about the blog post and the number of hits, and she quoted a line she'd heard from a song once. "That you need to remember when you're dreaming of someone, there is someone out there dreaming of you". Neither of us could remember the song or the band or what have you, but it made me smile thinking of that idea.

I imagine you checking in tonight, sweat pants, and an orange-yellow shirt. Some faded logo on it for one of your buddies. I think you've got a bowl of instant ramen in hand, and a banana.  Don't ask, I have no idea why. I also think you've got a radio station on in the background. Oldies station. 70's music. I believe your hands are covered in paint. Cause I think you've taken up painting again. Shades of black-blue and coral. The craziest part of this is that I want to say your painting something for your grandmother.

Well Herman, Mr. Scratchy; good night and I do hope once and a while you maybe dream of me. It's comforting to think someone does.

P.S. Tell New Favourite, I just discovered his old comedy show. Unless you're him...in which case Herman; I don't know what to say.


Thursday, February 9, 2017

Dirty Laundry 63

It's been one of those days again, where I couldn't keep up with the texting. I got a message from my cousin Walsh asking me if I was okay.

Me-:"Yeah, why?"

Walsh-:"My mom said you fell. What happened?"

Me-:"For once nothing. Wasn't me it for once. It was my sister. She was walking their dog and slipped on a patch of ice. Broke her tailbone and tore up her knee."

Walsh-:"Damn eh? She needing surgery?"

Me-:"Not sure yet. The doctors told her to come back in a couple of days when some of the swelling has gone down, cause the x-rays weren't clear."

I barely managed to sit down with my coffee when I got a text from Pussycat. 

Pussycat-:"The Salesman was asking about you!"

Me-:"Oh? When was this?"

Pussycat-:"This morning. I bumped into him at the fancy tea place in the mall."

Me-:"Yeah, I bumped into him last week too while I was there. What was he saying?"

Pussycat-:"Asked how often you go to the occult shop and when you might be there again. He's so still interested!"

Me-:"Have you ever actually seen him there? Cause I haven't. Like ever."

Pussycat-:"No haven't either."

When I had bumped into him last week, I commented on a necklace he was wearing, mentioning I'd seen something similar at the occult shop. The Salesman told me he hung out there all the time. But I've never seen him there. Nor has any of the staff mentioned seeing him. They are starting to play matchmaker, and last few times a new guy has come through the shop, they've messaged me. The Salesman has never been on their radar.

Pussycat-:"I told him you should be there on the weekend."

Me-:"What you do that for?"

Pussycat-:"Cause doll, he likes you"

Me-:"Then why not just ask me out the other day? Or ask for my number?"

Pussycat-:"No idea. But go find out."

I couldn't get the whole thing off my mind all day. I haven't thought about The Salesman in months, and suddenly he's popping up like weeds. I texted my cousin Walsh.

Me-:"Do you think I should bother with The Salesman again?"

Walsh-:"No."

Me-:"Okay, why?"

Walsh-:"Just a gut reaction."

Me-:"Can you explain that?"

Walsh-:"Not really."

Me-:"Big help thanks."

Walsh-:"You asked."

I have to admit, I need to know, when I walk into a room, the guy I'm there to see is happy I'm there. To actually see that look where I know the guy is having that butterfly moment, because he's near giddiness that I'm there.  The Salesman doesn't do that for me.

Friday, January 27, 2017

Dirty Laundry 62

Just got a text from my cousin Walsh, "What did you think?"

Me-:"What am I thinking about?"

Walsh-:"The show last night."

Me-:"What show?"

Walsh-:"Company Two."

Me-:"Haven't watched it in months. Why?"

Walsh-:"New Fav was on."

Me-:"Brilliant, why'd you not tell me when the show was on?"

Walsh-:"Thought you were watching it."

Me-:"No, gave up on all of it months ago. Last wrestling I watched was New Company back like October. Was actually thinking about getting rid of my sports package cause there's no indication New Company will be back on Canadian tv."

Walsh-:"There's a replay tomorrow." he was meaning Company Two

Me-:"Thanks. At lest that will help with the fairy tale and maybe keep the writer's block away."

Walsh-:"I told you, they have a youtube."   he was meaning New Company.

Me-:"Yeah, and I think I've seen the one promo of his like 30 times now. There's only so much storyline I can squeeze out of a 45 second promo."

Walsh-:"hahaha! Well there you go. He's back on Canadian tv."

Wednesday, January 18, 2017

post it note Jan 18 2017

Dear Mr. Scratchy:

Been too long Herman. Too long. I was sitting here tonight, processing some of the events happening around me. My day started with a text from Pussycat, telling me he's quit the cafe. Sad to hear that one. He then informed me that the last tarot reading I had done there for Princess came full blown true. I predicted she'd start dating a tall man who happens to be a Pisces or Cancer zodiac. I was seeing a water personality. And she's begun dating a Pisces. Here's hoping her fishy is a much more decent one than the Pisces men I've dated over the years.
My afternoon was uneventful, unless you want to consider the very nice East Indian guy who was being yelled at in the hallway by his one girlfriend. She's Canadian and just found out he's got a fiancee in India. And I know this because they were literally leaning on my front door when she started swearing at him. This is what I get for being so close to the exit.  Scared someone is going to get shoved into it and break my locks.
Supper time was almost as fun, not as scary but you know...odd. My ex ----- has taken to standing right outside my window when he goes out for a smoke. I can't believe he's still living in the building. Marie, one of the girls from my witch group, couldn't believe I ever dated him. Told me I could do better. I know this. I have done better since.
Well, I've got some work on the fairy tale to do. So...I really want to ask you a bunch of questions about movies. I watched this one the other day, and there was a line in it that got me thinking. Anyways...

I imagine you checking in tonight Herman, dressed in those black track pants, a yellow t-shirt with some faded logo on it. Those little wired rimmed glasses I think you wear, and a cup of tea beside you. I believe you're winding down after a long day, maybe sitting with the tv on while you check in. I want to say that you've got the movie Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas on in the background, god only knows why that popped into my head.

p.s. I've typed this twice and deleted it but...I want to say watch your back. The real reason I felt the need to post this tonight Herman, is that the ten of swords and the five of pentacles has been coming up all week in the tarots. Grief and mistakes. And everyone in my physical life seems to be good with their current situations. Or at lest at peace with them.