Well here we are, another Saturday morning.

Saturday morning was a lot more exciting when I was a kid. There were cartoons and my Mom would make a big breakfast. Whatever she felt like whipping up: pancakes, bacon and eggs, fruit salad, omelettes, sausages, French toast, red river cereal, scrambled eggs, bagels, cinnamon buns and just about anything you can imagine as breakfast food. Sometimes something quite fancy and sometimes just a bowl of anonymous flakes in milk. I appreciate it much more now. All those breakfasts in our sunny kitchen on Rouge Hills Drive, West Hill, Ontario. That was a long time ago.

I still really like going out for breakfast, when someone else does the cooking and the cleaning up. Living alone I don't get inspired to whip up anything for breakfast. I would make pancakes and bacon and eggs and French toast and such when I was married. Until things go not so nice. Then I didn't bother, didn't even bother to get up to be with him, let alone cook for him. I ate ice cream when I got up. Not a great plan I have to warn you.

Anyway, that's what Saturday morning makes me think of. All those mornings in our cosy house and having breakfast together at the table. Being called away from the TV, which was not that interesting anyway. Mom liked to have conversation so we always blabbed about something or other. Sometimes she had a plan for the day or the weekend. She was a firm believer in unplanned plans though. We might go to the flea market in Pickering but end up on a road trip to Niagara Falls instead. There were weekend visits to the Grandparents in Woodstock. Two hours was just borderline distance with four kids in a car. We had a big van for awhile, that gave each of us our own bench. It was pretty cool to stretch out or find some other way to take up all your available space. I had books and a little sister. I could have suggested she go somewhere else but I didn't mind. Sometimes I had my other sister, taking refuge from my brother. They always competed, over everything. But he was closer to my age and had advantages. That didn't stop her from trying to win. She was "Queen of Stubborn", relentless to the point of craziness.

So those were Saturday mornings ages ago. Now I'm just being lazy. I should/ could be working on something practical and necessary and important. Maybe some part of my brain is waiting for breakfast, to come to the table and chat about what we might do today. Too bad it's noon now. If I make a fresh coffee maybe I can fool myself into self discipline.

Or I could get dressed. Wearing your pajamas till after noon on a Saturday morning is not a sign of a productive day. But, it was fun when we were kids. I don't want to go back, not at all. It's nice to have memories but you have to keep making new ones to go with the part of your life you're living in now.

I haven't made a New Year's Resolution since I caved under co-worker pressure when I was 16 and working full time supporting an apartment of my own. I had quit high school and moved out, shared an apartment with an older woman (older than me which wasn't saying much at the time). The women where I worked (the even older ones, those who I think were kind of nasty to me when I see it from the perspective of an older woman) pressured me into making New Year's Resolutions.

It had never been a big deal with my family. We had our First Footing thing where the person with dark hair was the first caller of the New Year and had a drink with everyone, being welcomed into the home. Since I was the only dark haired kid in the family I got to be the First Footer most years.

Anyway, I don't remember what resolutions I made that year. I just know I broke them all within the month and I felt really bad. I almost never break my promises, to anyone. I no longer let myself give them away so easily either. Age brings wisdom as well as grey hairs, whiskers and well, that's enough information.

So for 2006 I will make the following resolutions, for no good reason, with no real promise to fulfill any one of them.

1). I will buy a better pair of tweezers for those really aggravating chin whiskers. I can feel one, freshly grown. Why is it you can really only see them while looking in the car mirror. I don't know how many times I've pretended not to notice someone catching me plucking my chinny chin chin. Twice I pretended to pick my nose just to add to the show.

2). I will make more ASCII art, pixel art and make use of the digital camera. Things I wanted to do anyway, so there. I did take the digital camera out for a spin today. I took pictures of the row of snow covered pine trees in the backyard. But I think the battery has a problem cause the camera kept trying to shut itself down before I could click to take the picture.

3). I will date a pirate of some kind. Any guy wearing an eyepatch will do. I've always had a thing for eye patches, they look so dangerous and mysterious. I don't go in for the whole 'bad boy' thing, just the illusion and the eye patch of course.

4). I will create a web comic. I made a sketch today, I just have to learn to draw now and I'll be all set.

5). I will finish learning CSS. I'm reading Web Design Garage and have gone past the point of no return. (That's so much more interesting than saying I'm more than halfway through the book).

6). I will conquer the blasted sewing machine. I will also re-remember how to crochet granny squares.

7). I will take a completely pointless and unplanned road trip. Probably to the Kincardine area again. I found the perfect beach in the middle of nowhere. All pebbly and those sparse looking beach trees and water, lots of clear water you can walk into without stepping on too many shells. I will have a cottage cheese picnic there again and build my sandcastle, again.

8). I will accomplish more of the things I want to do.

9). There is nothing else, just checking to see who fell asleep.

Note: You'll be delighted (no doubt) to know I pulled out that whisker with my fingers just now. Doesn't it seem odd that men lose hair while women gain it? I'm sure it's part of some devious plot.

It's only been a few days, but I have met someone I like, online. I think this guy can even handle all my wickedness, my craziness and all the other random stuff. Maybe even my tendency to skim. Could there be such among mortal man? We will see. I'm starting to look forward to his test drive.

Being wicked is fun! It should be a flavour of ice cream.

It makes me laugh, in an annoyed way, the way people say they want honesty. Anyone who begins by telling you how honesty is important to them is full of pond scum. Each experience I have had with these honest people has been full of dishonesty, from them. Men lie about their age, as if that's something they can get away with indefinitely. Women may lie about their weight but that's only cause men are so shallow and self centred that they can't look at a woman as a real person. They treat women like disposable sex toys. No need to let her know they aren't interested after all, just ignore her and she'll go away like any good sex toy. I am so fed up with this. If a guy doesn't have the balls to say "thanks but no thanks" he should stick to sex toys of the rubber kind and not involve himself with real women at all. Obviously we are too much for him to handle. He's much better just handling himself.

Comments

dakitty

Who's ass do we need to kick?

Sounds like the same old story, but with a new guy sigh

These types don't even treat women as well as they do their sex toys -- they care for their toys needs (clean them, give them new batteries) & likely talk nicer to them too :P

me

Oddly enough it was three different ones, all in a row. Two guys and one woman. I'm trying a new approach to the whole dating thing. No more online. The real men must be somewhere else.

dakitty

"Two guys and one woman."

Have you err, opened up more on the 'whole dating thing' than I suspected? Or is this another issue, not related to dating?

As for dating online, you know I got lucky here. But then it wasn't at a dating site. Perhaps if you are just spending time as non-dating sites, you might find yourself in a more natural way of 'running into someone' who has similar interests -- real interests, not some he typed in to look good (or younger lol)

Just my 2 cents :)

me

No, the woman was a dating thing. Not my idea, I was surprised. I wrote straight in my profile. But, you know how curious I am. How could I resist an invitation to see her when she said she had a whole dungeon. She didn't really ask anything about me, she just assumed. Then, when I couldn't meet her the next day she forgot about me. Just as well, it probably would have been a bit too odd even for me. Though I'm still curious and have begun to write a story around the whole thing.

The new plan is to find a local group of people (men and women) who are doing something like digital photography, website building, SOMETHING where the men have to take their hands out of their pants and look up once in awhile.

PS- I found a new book yesterday. I don't buy new often but I loved the title and then the general idea too. No doubt it will be more fuel for the writing.

"The Future Widows Club" by Rhonda Nelson. I'm going to BookCrossing it tonight. Thinking to toss BookCrossing as it's not much use in the outback of Ontario. No one picks up my books. Though I have traded with a couple of other women at work, only one has joined the site so far.

dakitty

SOMETHING where the men have to take their hands out of their pants and look up once in awhile

LOL

But it is a good point!

I'm sure there must be more people like me out there, somewhere. Surely at least a couple of them are male. Why do I keep meeting people who want me to be someone else, or expect me to fit some mould/ stereotype? I don't want to. I like to do things my way, cause my way is good too. It's not the only way, I'm not completely vain or blind to other options. But, I'm pretty clever in my own way. The odd way.

I am tired of trying to become what people want or expect me to. Or, maybe worse, accepting people (men) and making excuses and rationalizations for how it can work out, how I'm just thinking too much or trying to find someone who can't really exist. As if I'M the one who is expecting too much. I try to wrap myself around their little finger. It's damn time I took a coffee break on that.

Surely, there is a guy, who doesn't live so far away as to require long distance relating, who could actually enjoy my company, as I am. The real me, dorky, nerdy, flawed, passionate, artsy, scared, stubborn, caring, unreasonable, impatient, eccentric, unorganized, sensual, quiet, independent, old fashioned, crafty and on and on. And on.

Why do I keep meeting odd guys who don't care about the things that matter to me. Guys who seem to have more problems than I do, guys who want me to come to rescue them, guys who don't care about good punctuation, guys who can't carry a conversation above sex, guys who lie about things that don't really matter, guys who think a woman's body is all that matters. Guys who honestly, really and truly bore me. Why do I keep thinking that is all the choice I have? Why do I sell myself short?

I'm tired of it. But, I just can't believe there really isn't at least one guy out there who is abnormal in enough ways to mesh with all my abnormal. No normal, please, that would be boring. There must be an intelligent, interesting, passionate, optimistic guy out there. One who doesn't need to put me down to make himself feel bigger or better. One who doesn't mind some chaos and doesn't think all the dishes have to be sorted by size and put away right away. One who likes to read and talk about ideas, the weather and other things of interest. Bedsport too but not as a focus, crowding out all else.

Anyway, here I am. Come and get me. I'll leave a trail of typos, chocolate wrappers and spilled coffee. If you have/ know the words you'll find the way.

Comment

agingyoungrebel (Writer from BackWash.com)

Sure, guys like that must exist, Laura. Don't give up hope.