Saturday, September 29, 2007

Lobster feast & unexpected courtship


Everything is ready.

Rose & Justin helped me do the shopping and get everything ready for tonight's dinner party. Rose picked out each lobster that would be executed in honour of our guests out of the shop's aquarium; Justin couldn't get over the fact that we were actually counting on eating those creepy looking things. 'Mum...I want chicken, ok? Are you sure you don't want to try sweetie? They taste much more delicious than they look you know! The look on his face told me he wasn't convinced. Chicken it is, then. He was way more interested by the sweets in the near-by counter.
As of now, I'm still working on Justin picking up the mountains of Lego that are scattered on the basement floor. I set up the guest bed as well; Surely Monica & Keith will spend the night. There's no way they will be able to make it back to their place after we empty out all the wine bottles that the guests are sure to bring.

Heads up on the start of my weekeend. Well. I went to a dinner party on Thursday (yes, another one, it is the weekend of dinner parties, apparently) and...kinda met someone. A very charming engineer (yes, just like my ex-husband, Lee, but this one actually has a personnality) from Monaco (European!!!! Hurray!!!) who set up shop in Ottawa, believe it or not. Quite interesting, really : he works for the national defense, flies helicopters, was a war pilot in the Gulf war in the early 90's and spends weekends in the south of France from time to time. GREAT accent :) Hum. We met on Thursday, had a blast, he asked for my number, called me up on Friday morning; Friday evening, he came over to my place with a dozen red roses in one hand and a bottle of wine in the other (European men have got it going on, girls, let me tell you) by 11 o'clock we were snogging on my purple couch, and this morning he called me up to find out if I had slept well (like a baby, thank you very much, I said, blushing as I was sipping my coffee) and if I was busy on Sunday evening. Needless to say, I can't keep up with the pace of things. Er...Sunday? Well, er, don't know, let me see...(why is it so easy to bitch about men not calling us girls back when we want it so badly to happen and so difficult to deal with when it does happen?)

Sigh....There are lovely roses on my dinner table....

My guests will be here in a few hours.

Did I mention I invited Arthur?

Friday, September 28, 2007

Mickey & friends set up camp


AARGHHHHHHH!!!! Lord help me!


Yesterday I noticed some strange leaf torn-up bits on my downstairs loo. Strange, I thought. But didn't think twice about it. I cleaned it up, and called it a day.

This morning, there was a rather imposing quantity of dust and broken leaves on the loo....I was puzzled, then...er, thought about it, and slowly lift up my head...I looked at the ceiling above the loo.

Dear God.

There are bits of various stuff coming out of my ceiling fan, you know, the ones you have installed in bathrooms that don't have a window, the ones that have an exterior vent? Looks like there are uninvited guests at my place....and I hate mice with a passion...I can't rationalize it for the life of me, they're so tiny, you know, my mum always said Les ptites bibittes ça mange pas les grosses bibittes (Little critters don't eat the bigger ones) they can't hurt me, I know, but they CREEP ME OUT!!!!!!!! I need help!!!

I wonder if Arthur is busy.

Wednesday, September 26, 2007

Ranking update

Case closed.
The lieutenant left a message on my voice mail yesterday morning saying "I'm sorry it took me 4 days to answer you, but I will pass for the dinner on Saturday. I like to do my own thing, follow my own instinct. If you need to talk to me, you know where to reach me", to which I replied via text message "all right, have it your way - not sure I understand but - be well."
Thinking about it later on and unhappy with our virtual communication process, and confused, I called him back later that evening.
-So, er, you decided not to come? I'm not too sure I understand your "instinct" bit...Are you all right?
His tone was very dry, and surprised that I was actually calling him.
-I just don't think it's appropriate. I want to keep things the way they are. I'm going to Montreal this weekend...it's an instinct thing, you know...
-Er...Ok! G'bye then!
-Goodbye.
Two things : 1) I have no idea what he's talking about, and 2) If he had no intention of coming in the first place, which I didn't think he would have anyway, but still, OR no interest whatsoever in yours truly, WHY oh God WHY did he make this storyline last this bloody long???? A simple "I'm busy, sorry" or "no thanks!" would have made things so much more simpler for me when I actually called him up to invite him over. This just confirms that I know absolutely nothing about men and that obviously, the silly girl that I am can't take a hint. Sue me for caring for somebody who doesn't give a shite.
After that call I deleted "Lieutenant" from my mobile contacts, disgusted at my whole reasonning process.
What the bloody hell is wrong with me?

Monday, September 24, 2007

The dinner party


Meanwhile, I decided to organize a little dinner get-together at my place next Saturday. I invited Monica and Keith, my travel-crazy friends from Ottawa, Stéphanie, who shares an office with me at Kopinski & co and her boyfriend Pablo, and Arthur, my neighbor. I also invited the Lieutenant. Thing is, he hasn't confirmed if he'll be there or not. I spoke to him over the phone last Thursday (yes, he eventually returned my call...I am very impatient and get p.o'ed easily when things don't go my way, I'm afraid) to invite him over, and he seemed flattered and somewhat interested to partake. But, and please help me if you have some insight, said that he was 'unsure' if it was the 'appropriate' thing to do.


-Innapropriate? I said. Don't you eat dinner everyday?

-Of course, silly...he replied. I can't talk about it now, really, I'm at work.

-Er...ok then. Well call me when you've made up your mind, then...Looking forward to seeing you again.

-You too. Bye!

-Bye.


So as of now (it's only Monday morning, let's not freak out) he hasn't confirmed his presence for Saturday. And I for one have no idea what he's talking about. I can understand 'I'm busy', 'I have other plans' or even 'I'm not even going to return your phone call that's how much I don't care' But...'It would be nice, I'm not sure if it would be appropriate?'


Don't get it. I must be missing some crucial information.

Sunday, September 23, 2007

How to kiss a neighbor


Meet my neighbour, Arthur.


Arthur lives right next door to me. His front door stands about 15 feet away from mine, and once in a while, the postman will leave his Financial Post in my mailbox by mistake. Arthur almost never leaves his house; he works from home, and when he does go out, it's to go across the street to visit Frank & Cathy, the neighbours. Arthur is in his early 40's, and is very handsome, in a 'poète maudit' kind of way. I wouldn't say he's the strong silent type; I think he's more of a suffering silent and recluse type. A poor lonesome Swedish cowboy that wants to be left alone until he figures out where it is exactly he should be heading.


I started to talk to Arthur again not too long ago; I would say a few months, maybe six or seven, even though I've lived here for 2 years now. The first time I ever spoke to him was over the fence from our respective gardens. He was with his wife and I was with fuckface at the time. They were welcoming us to the neighbourhood and offering us cold beer on a hot June day. Fuckface and I had just moved in our new house and were getting acquainted with our new neighbours while the kids were trying out their new bikes. Happier times for Arthur and me.

At first I thought Arthur was one of those redneck Ontarians; didn't strike me as someone I want to put on the list of my favourite people. In the short period of time Fuckface was around, he managed to get into arguments with Arthur for reasons that elude me right now. All I know is I remember my boyfriend saying the neighbour was an asshole, and didn't make anything of it. Turns out, two years after, that Arthur is quite knowledgeable and funny. He has a sarcastic sense of humour, which I love. He doesn't get out much though, or at least he hasn't for the last 2 years anyway. Now, I know all this because I've invited him over a few times for a drink, or for barbecues over the summer. He even helped me out gut my upstairs bathroom when I decided to retile it. I wanted to do it on my own, you know, female power and all, but I hit a wall when it all came down to taking out the old tiles. I was stuck, couldn't do it alone, and was about to cry of despair when I thought of my nice (yet very quiet) neighbour Arthur. Sometimes, it's nice to have a man around the house (not necessarily IN the house, but you know, around it) Especially when you have to smash out a tile floor with a hammer. He was happy to help me, I was forever grateful, and we spent half a day in my tiny bathroom. We wore construction goggles that steamed up every 3 minutes; you can imagine how attractive that made us look. We cracked jokes about 'banging' all day, drank beer and played music really loud. It was a fun day.


Arthur and I both went through very dark periods in our lives at the same time. Two years ago, about two weeks after Fuckface abandoned me in the house we had just bought together to zoom back to England, Arthur's wife collapsed on her basement floor. Just like that. Without warning. Brain clot. She was 38. Now Arthur, who had only known one woman up until then, suddenly became a widower at 40. I can't imagine what he went through. The days that followed the death of Arthur's wife drove me a bit insane; even if I didn't know her very well, I could feel the grief of the family members that reunited in Arthur's house through the walls, and since my own mental state was not too good at the time, I did the only thing I could to save my life. I pretended I didn't know what happened in the house next door. It made me too sad. I couldn't handle more sadness, especially not one of gigantic proportions. Let's just say that on our street corner, at that time, there was a dark cloud hovering above both our houses. I eventually got over mine, but Arthur is still struggling.


Over the past few months, I got to know him better, and grew quite fond of him. I always had a thing for loveable tortured types. Last Friday, I bumped into him as I was taking out the recycling bins. We chatted a bit, and, what the hell, I invited him over to watch a movie later on, when the kids would be asleep. Bring some booze, I said, and a stupid movie. We can just get pissed and laugh at the TV. Sounds like a plan, I'll see you later then, he said.


At 9h30 he knocked on the door, with beer in one hand and School for scoundrels in the other. Perfect, I said. I'll make popcorn, you open the beer.We snuggled up on the couch, watched a bit of the movie, laughed at how bad it was, drank beer, and chatted a little. I talked about how difficult it was to meet sensitive men; he talked about how he had no idea about anything that had to do with dating. He's not ready, he said. He seemed terrified about the whole concept of being with somebody else. I wanted to hug him and to stroke his hair. I told him he should have no problem meeting someone new, he was so attractive, intelligent, and funny. (Attractive, intelligent, and funny....hum....) You know Arthur...I really want to kiss you right now. He looked at me for a few seconds, not too sure about what to answer. It's not a good idea, he said. We're neighbours. Oh, I said. Then we looked at each other for a while. Tell me again why it's not a good idea?

Friday, September 21, 2007

Defensive counter measures, part I

I've been meaning to write all week, in fact, since I came back from my week-end in Toronto, but didn't actually get around to it. I was too exhausted, occupied, and to be honest, couldn't be arsed to talk about things that I knew would take me a few days to digest properly. A lot has happened in the past few weeks on a personal level. I have been caught up in a whirlwind of non-stop daily chores that I imposed on myself to keep me from reveling in personal turmoil - nothing dramatic, really - just friendships and basic human relations issues that forced me to look at myself and how I choose to nurture my friendships - what I look for in a friend, how I choose to support and reciprocate said friendship (or not, for that matter) and how I react to being hurt by sometimes unsuspecting friends. Let me start by analyzing my Toronto experience.

My previous post stated my somewhat "platonic" friendship with Al, my supposedly gay NY pal. Well, it turns out this Bridges has no idea what she's talking about. This, to me, just confirms that I know absolutely nothing, nothing I tell ya, about MALES. Not only isn't Al gay, (just writing this makes me want to scream out BUT HE IS! HE IS!! I'm convinced he is!!!) But he hooked up with this "older woman" from the group, who lives in Montreal. Now...I'm upset about this - obviously, I'm writing about it - and shocked. I just don't understand why it has such an effect on me. I was never attracted to Al in that way - I'm certainly not jealous about the whole thing, that's not where it hurts - After all, I'm the one who left for NY and Toronto with the set idea that I was meeting up with my ambiguously gay friend - but I ask myself...maybe, just maybe, did I hope for him to turn to me and declare his undying love for me? (No, that's not it. I just wanna burst out laughing thinking about it) Did I wish for a true friendship with a male that doesn't stink of underlying sexual innuendos? Am I just ego-bruised that he hasn't tried to hook up with me? What the hell is wrong with me then?


All these existantial questions triggered the need to set up defensive counter measures undertaken to protect myself. I am hurt, don't know why yet but damn, I feel something and it's not pleasant - it leaves a bitter repulsive taste in my mouth - therefore I have to act upon it. I feel threatened. And stupid. I stopped answering his text messages and didn't return his calls, despite the "WHAT DID I DO? WHY ARE YOU MAD AT ME??? that has been flashing on my mobile for the past three days now. I ignore him. I play the offended biatch. I am cowardly and childishly walking away from a problem - obviously one that is forcing me to look at myself from up-close - too up-close, that is - to save my life. And I can't explain why I feel compelled to save it; I just run.

Friday, September 14, 2007

Off to Toronto


As I write this short post, I'm getting ready to leave the office and zoom off to the Ottawa airport so I can catch a quick flight to Toronto, la ville-Reine, as we say in Quebec. I will be meeting up with about 20 pals from my April cruise, and of course, with my sexually ambiguous latino friend, Al, who was kind enough to have me over at his place in New York city in April. Apparently, or so Al wrote to one of his friends through a group message board, that we have a "weird brother & sister thing going on". I have no idea what he's talking about; to me, he's just my unawaringly gay friend from New-York. Mind you, we've slept in the same bed a few times now, and not even a glimpse of a ghost of a pass was attempted. He is quite attractive, and girls will agree with me: sometimes, you just don't "feel" the heterosexuality, no matter how cute the guy is. It's more of a brother & sister thing, okay, I'll give him that; but perhaps it's just weird to him; for everybody else, including yours truly, it's a given...


Catch up on Monday.


Tuesday, September 11, 2007

Cabin fever

For some reason, I seem to suffer from cabin fever every September. After all the hoopla resulting from coming back from vacation in Florida, the back to school frenzy (shopping for schol suppplies in crowded Wal-Mart alleys, searching desperatly for the specific notebook Not this one mummy, it's not the right colour-size-length-odour-ingredient content whilst trying to follow a way-too specific list of endless supplies from the school) and the inevitable cleaning out of the wardrobes (clothes now too small/ugly/worn-out for the kids, simply not wearable anymore according to my standards for myself), I streched my autumnal urges as to fixate on buying a new, bigger house for me & the pups. Crazy, you say? That's what my mum thought.

Bridges, penses-y deux minutes!!! Tu vas pas déménager ENCORE juste pour le fun de déménager! Ça a juste PAS D'ALLURE TON AFFAIRE!!!!
(Trans. "Bridges you can't be serious - You're not going to move AGAIN just for the sole purpose of moving! It just doesn't make any sense!!!!)
Well, after looking around and actually meeting up with a few estate agents in the neighborhood and visiting a few houses in my budget range (approximately 1400-1700 sq. ft. and at least 3 bedrooms), I came to the conclusion that Oh my God, mum was, for once, sort of right. Moving would be too much stress on the kids and the difference between my actual house and the one I could potentially buy is very limited. Changing quatre trente-sous pour une piasse (four quarters for a loonie) seems alot of effort for too little benefits. Problem solved. But the urge to start a new domestic project was still lingering...What's a Bridges to do????
Well, I decided to redo my whole bedroom, mind you. I spent the whole weekend painting the walls, my furniture, the trims, everything but the kitchen sink (who has a kitchen sink in their bedroom I ask you) and shopping like a mad woman at IKEA, Rona's, Loblaw's (yes, Loblaw's for home decor, I know, it seems daft) and other various shops around Ottawa for bedding, curtains, paint and miscelleneous decor tidbits. The result is quite pleasing, and quite drastic. I went from a boudoir-looking bedroom with purple walls, dark velour bedspread and golden accents to a fresh, clean looking contemporary bedroom with shiny black furniture, crisp white 4 star hotel quality linens and silvery grey walls.
How's that for cabin fever?
Do I really have to mention that I'm exhausted from my weekend, and that I still have paint in my hair?

Thursday, September 06, 2007

Catching my breath


Ouf! as soon as we got back from vacation, the kids went back to school, Rose starting 4th grade and Justin proudly entering his first....my babies are not babies anymore, or so it seems, judging by their refusal to wear clothes mummy picked out for them and insiting on choosing everything by themsleves...Of course Rose, as a girly-girl, has been throwing clothes related fits every morning before school since she was 5, but now my son has joined the fuss-parade! At least now they'll only have themselves to blame when they have "nothing to wear" in their closets...

Vacation was a success, and although it was incredibly hot, we managed to live the high life for one week, and while I was spraying my kids with 50 FPS suntan lotion, I forgot to save some for me...Result? A peeling tummy due to the inexperience of wearing a bikini. Sure beats frost bite though.

What's next?

A weekend in Toronto from September 14 to the 16 along with some cruise buddies.

Oh, and a few existantial updates in the next few days.