When any of us get into a relationship, somewhere along the way we usually find ourself looking for signs to know if this person could be "the one". For guys it is usually easier.... they'll say things like "she loves the Three Stooges" or "she ordered the 14oz steak on our first date". Women tend to look for something more emotionally based. Most want a romantic evening, a poem written for them or to see the man cry.

While chatting with falling_rain this morning, we talked about a very old and dear friend of mine who is also male. After the jokes, I explained to her that he and I are only friends and will only ever be friends. For those of you saying never say never and, because I lost a bet, I'm going to share with you the reason Louie and I know we will never be more than friends.

We burnt down a hotel. I'd prefer to end the entry here but the requirements of the aforementioned bet dictate I share the whole story.

Louie

If you are easily offended, please close the screen now. My day absolutely, positively sucked. I'm about to engage in a rant outlining some of the reasons the vein in my neck is still bulging.

I'll begin with the moronic high school students who choose to play in traffic, every fucking single morning.... running from the 7-11 back to the school. Hey idiots, do you see the coloured lights another 50 feet down the road? USE THEM!! You are not superheros and one morning I'm going to step on the gas instead of the brake and mow you down. I know all the other drivers you piss off each morning will understand why I snapped. They will probably applaud.

And you in the Beemer, did you lose your common sense along with your hair? It's 8:20 in the morning.... people are jonesing for their coffee and you decide to pick a fight with the drive-thru speaker? Don't you think the woman had a right to ask you to go inside the store when you wanted to order 8 dozen doughnuts and 46

It addition to not being fair, life isn't easy either. I think what makes it such a challenge is that there is not always a right or wrong answer to a problem. The trick is to live with the choices you make and respect the decisions made by others.

I'm sitting on the sidelines, watching an extremely close friend lose his father. His dad has lived a full and good life. Mr. B. raised a great family and made sure none of his kids would ever want for anything. I could try and list his many virtues but I would miss many. Believe me when I tell you Mr. B. is one of the great men I know.

Now in his late eighties, his body has started to fail. His poor health is not related to any one disease in particular, but to the cruel hands of time. To be blunt, his body is old and isn't working the way it should. There is no cure for old age and no way to stop it. The family can only keep him comfortable and make sure he's never alone. This is only the beginning of the hardship.

Mr. B. knows his time is coming. He has been in and out of the hospital several times this past year. There is nothing which can be done for him in hospital; he chooses to live out his final days in the house he built; the home where he raised his family. Is this so wrong?

At this time in his life, does his owe his children anything more? Some of the family feels he is being selfish by not going into hospital or a palative care home. By staying in his home, he is forcing his children to watch him die a slow death. Some of the family feels it is his choice to stay at home and since he can afford the special bed and around the clock nursing care, he should stay home. Is it time for the kids to suck it up and be strong for their father? Who gets to make this choice?

I know there is no right or wrong. Although I am emotionally attached, he is not my father and I can't say my experience is the same as that of his children. Right now is not an easy time for anyone involved.

He and I sat in the sunroom this morning and listened to his children bicker while we soaked up some rays. He held my hand and told me how happy he was that I was part of his family. He confided in me had had a solution to whole mess. He asked me to go to Mexico with him. He wants to die on a warm beach somewhere, a beautiful woman at his side.

How can I refuse a dying man his last wish? Mr. B, you will forever hold a very special place in my heart.

 

Feminine, delicate or dainty are words which will never be used to describe me. I don't care for anything pink or things with frills or lace. I don't wear make-up, won't carry a purse and consider high heels suicide machines. I don't like shopping and I believe Sundays are all about football. I consider my style, if that's what you can call it, granola, and I'm very okay with this.

Often, during the battle of the sexes, I find myself siding with the men. I'm liberal in my attitudes towards sex

I do not like the colour teal, it is confused. Teal cannot decide it it wants to be green or blue, it is a poser. Teal belongs on exotic fish or birds and pretty much, nowhere else. Do we all understand my dislike for this stain on our colour palette? Good!

Here comes the kicker.... despite my disdain, teal is not evil; it's not even bad. It is definitely NOT a colour you will see in my life but it does not represent the downfall of mankind. I might rant and rave and make these claims, if you were to give me a teal scarf or teal throw cushions for my couch, but deep inside, the rational me knows teal is not inherently evil.

This is MY sentiment about the colour. I have as much right to dislike it as you have to love it and use it throughout your home, car and wardrobe. Colour choice is one of those wonderful grey areas in life... there is no right and no wrong. You will want to remember this before you decide to try and change my mind about teal.

Why would you want to change my mind? Why do you care? Why can't my aversion to teal be accepted as part of my charm? How do MY choices effect your life?

If you still want to continue this argument, you're a jackass. Yes, I do mean to be blunt. If you are not bright enough to understand the concept of opinions then you are someone I don't want to have a conversation with.

When you condemn me for not liking teal, I suspect you will try and talk me out of my passion for the number 13. Will you try to convert me from Coke to Pepsi

WDC NEWS FIRST...

Thanks to jemmisparks and all the participants in "Invalid Item"  for the SUPPORTIVE merit badge. It means the world to me.

I also appreciate the e-mails about updating my blog. It's nice to know I'm missed.

Aside... Should any of you find little glitches in the WDC site, be sure to let SM know about them right away. I had a little trouble today and can't say enough about how quickly he got back to me with the problem fixed.

  HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO WDC. I hope everybody clicks on '07 Party Central to see the celebratory events.

  

I figure if I write about it, it will go away. What is "it" you wonder? I have a crush on a WDC member.

I'm not sure how it happened. I poked a few ports and found some writers whom I enjoyed. I returned to their ports and continued to read their work. I felt a stronger connection to some of the writing so went in search of blogs. After all, the blog is really how we get to know other members here. Right?

His entries made me laugh. I read about his life and think "he so gets me". It's odd and twisted and somewhat embarassing; not to mention very funny. I still can't believe it has happened. I can't figure out why I get goosebumps when I see he has posted a new entry, blog or short story. What woman over 30 acts like this? Apparently, me.

Now that I have shared my dirty little secret, I'm hoping it will fade away. This does not mean I will stop going to his port or reading his work but I hope I will stop writing him love letters. One day I'm going to hit SEND by accident.


Speaking of our fine male members, pop over to the blog of The Literary Penguin . Look up entry #185. He has a fabulous contest within his blog but you must be a quasi-regular reader of his to participate. Get over there and read (and comment) so you can enter.
 

Prior to this week, I'd always been against the idea of cloning. I feel people are messing with stuff that is meant to be left alone. I needed to be a dozen places at once on the craziest of days and only three places at once on the good days.

Last night, after running full tilt for too many days, the conversion happened. I now support cloning and believe each of us need our own Dolly. How fabulous would it be if we all had our own personal doubles? Even our own personal army of ourselves? I'd run away to the woods and camp forever, leave the clone to do the dirty work.

I know this won't happen anywhere but my imagination. This is probably a good thing as I'm not too sure the world is ready for more than one of me. I get in enough trouble on my own. And the costs? I can't support another Pringles habit nor can I afford to buy enough chocolate for two. And I will not share my bathroom!

I will carry on like everybody else. I'll be early for some appointments and late for others. Somehow, everything eventually gets done. Freaking out about being busy doesn't help, it only consumes what precious energy I have. Yes, I neglected my blogging and wasn't poking ports like I used to do but I needed to give you all a chance to miss me.
 

When there is a giant sign, above the public water tap, reading WATER NOT SUITABLE FOR DRINKING, this should be construed as a warning and not just an observation. I already knew this fun fact however, a friend poopooed the warning and flew in the face of danger. In the middle of the night, he flew to the privy and poopooed again.

A "full cord" is a lot of fuckin' wood; way more wood than can be safely burned on a three day trip. It's actually so much, we shared with many of our fellow campers. We bought the "full cord" because it was cheaper. It was $8 a bag and experience has taught us we burn 3 bags a day. The "full cord" was only $50 AND delivered to the site. But it's a lot of fuckin' wood. The reason I continue to emphasize "full cord" is because this seemed to impress the guys. I say it's a lot of wood.

What goes down, must go up. Yes, I said it correctly. It's tons of fun racing down the slope to the bathrooms but it sucks returning to camp. We were glad it wasn't the other way around.

No matter your company or how rational the conversation sounds at the moment, if alcoholic bevies are involved, the conversation will make no sense the following morning or if you attempt to repeat it to anybody else. Accept it for the drunken rambling it is and don't try to recapture the magic.

The simplest pleasures are still the best, K.I.S.S.
 

Is anything more peaceful than sleeping beneath the stars, on the bank of a river? I hope you all have as incredible of a weekend as I'm about to have. We can swap stories next week.