sounds liiiiike....

i was thinking about it whilst in line at the bay, returning the xmas gift my mum got me:

if i close my eyes and imagine it in my head, i can hear the sound of a revolver being cocked. i can imagine it with such absolute accuracy, it's really hard to explain that i have never, in my entire (ahem) thirty years of living, actually ever heard the sound... i mean, clearly, i've been witness to it innumerable times on the teev and in the cinema... but never, ever --not once-- in real life.

so... how do i know it's right ?

[did i mention it was a long line ?]

spam can be fun...

i rarely ever read the spam i get, but this one came in all poem-like and i couldn't resist. then i read it out loud to my roommate and decided that it was kindof... um... good, in some weird spammy poetic way:

it pocket a sat and
occasionally rose and out between
of worked extremely the grey
an is black own did
For the relief the to
triangle Most as arranged neither
offering word faint man were
removed but to a here
must But putting with at
it pocket a sat and
occasionally rose and out between
of worked extremely the grey
an is black own did
For the relief the to
triangle Most as arranged neither
offering word faint man were
removed but to a here
must But putting with at

[ohyeah. i've been drinking...]

long, long lost...

being home at christmastime allows for the occasional fluke run-in that i adore...

after a leisurely lunch at the ship with lola yesterday, i decided to walk down 17th to finish up my xmas shopping. mere steps outside the door, i see a familiar face crossing the street towards me. jeff... a guy i had a crush on in seventh grade. a guy i almost failed chemistry with in grade 12. a guy who i hung with at 15 bands for 15 bucks, and innumerable parties at scott's house in high school. a guy i haven't seen since...

12 years on and there he is, crossing 5th street. exactly the same.

though it was only 2:30, he convinced me to turn myself around, return to the pub and have a holiday reunion beer. and we proceeded to have one of the more honest and interesting catch-up conversations i've ever been a party to. my truths paled in comparison to his; namely his relationship of eight years with a 54-year-old man, and his five-year coke problem. don't misunderstand, though. he is very much the same happy-go-lucky jeff i once knew, and i don't doubt for a second that he's quite content in his life of animal-rescue and security system sales. it was one of those rare, candid, unhindered chats where the email-swap at the end was heartfelt and true...

it's good being home.
[no point.]

XXs

statistically, i would estimate that i'm still friends with about 50% of the guys i've dated in my life, at least to some extent.

it's a tricky thing to calculate, to be sure. i mean, attempting to get a mathematically accurate number in an entirely subjective category is a longshot to begin with. here, i would certainly need to factor in a lot of different things in order to get any kind of precise number.

for one, i'd have to map out a complete dating history, which would mean i'd have to recollect guys from my teenage years and from travelling the world [and, hey, i'm not a hussy, but i've dated a few dudes in my time]...

i'd also have to include relationships that run the gamut from (ahem) BRIEF to... ummm... about year-long [and then, of course, question why it's the "brief" ones that tip the percentage scale towards everlasting fondness].

most difficult, though, would be defining the words "dated" and "friend..."

somehow, i started writing this post in effort to explain why when i go to the grocery store, i always use johnson's phone number for my club card discount. why ? because mine doesn't work. and, though i don't hang out with him anymore or correspond with him in any real way (i am not counting the little hello messages passed through our mutual friend in victoria), i would still place him in the 'friend' side of things. which is why i tell myself it doesn't matter that i get discounts off produce in his name...

until the cashier hands me my receipt and says "have a good evening, mrs. johnson"...

uhhhh.... REALLY no point here. sorry to waste your time...

the perfect man...

why is it that when i meet a really intelligent, interesting, sexy guy with a perfect smile, a great laugh, a bit of ink & all the right piercings, a good job, who loves hockey, punk rock of swedish persuasion, and wants babies, it turns out that he's married ?? just curious...

things that make me smile II

right now, this. i love the hockey, and i love the calgary flames, but being a brand-new-rangers-lover, having my "#2 team" win in a 14-round shootout was, somehow, exhilirating. my main man henrik lundqvist took it hard to the caps, but it was marek malik with a outrageously ridiculous goal that sealed the deal. i've never seen anything quite like it. and, it makes me grin...

ummmm.... yeah.