Ding Dong, The Witch is Dead

Ding Dong, the witch is dead. For those who know me or have spoken to me in the past week during the post road trip, you will understand. For everyone else, never mind. For all, bring on the vodka at my place. This party is just getting started.

For everyone out there going through what I was once thought was unemployment bliss, take a break from your life for a bit. Do it soon. Breathe for a minute. Afterwards, even the cruelest of characters will drop off your radar. I've got a couple in my life, but the more people I meet and that have entered my life in the past month, the less I care about the drama and they just seem to disappear to a small blip on the screen. Things are making alot more sense to me, too, now that I've stepped away, well, the things that don't really matter OF COURSE. Who do you think you're listening to???!!! Baby steps. Rule #1, do not date "separated" men. They are never separated. Rule #2, the world does not hate you because of your bad haircut disaster. The men are quickly replaced and the hair does grows back.

Besides, I'm not a person with high expectations despite what my roommate thinks. Not anymore, anyway. I'm ignoring the dust in my apartment (shared quarters, anyway, again, baby steps), the guys next door who think Lady Gaga should be heard from here to Calgary at 8am while drilling into concrete, dates who think a good night out on the town is french fries on me, and hold on, more Lady Gaga. I've got ear plugs, a king-sized bed, and two dresses in my closet that talk to me, "just because I'm 2007, doesn't mean I didn't earn my status at Holt Renfrew". These dresses don't deserve that kind of abuse and they're demanding a little more respect. They miss my polka-dotted bra though, and rebelling somewhat. Well, we're all upset about it, finding it missing when I got home was like losing my best friend. But I'm sure some oil dude at one of the hotels I was staying in last week is enjoying it right now as I write this. And I am the sharing type. However, I do hope whoever did find it wears it under their clothes and not over. I tried wearing it over once and it stretched all out and it was angry with me for weeks. Nobody should have to resort to tissue paper or silicon inserts, that's just wrong; You never know when some party breaks out and you're required to take it off and swing it around. Trust me, it's been an interesting week but I do NOT have pictures in case you ask. I am an upstanding citizen of this society and cannot afford the blackmail.

I'm making it. I truly am. Not the way I thought I was going to make it five months ago, but in a much better way. I'm taking life as it comes, Porsche or old Mustang. Life is definitely worth living, and although I'm thankful for the weight-loss made under extreme duress and hypochondriac-ness (tumours are NOT bad hangovers), I think I might have my old self back again. The old self after the disappearing act in Mexico and before the disappearing act to Taiwan. I should be clear on that. I was way more relaxed coming back from Mexico.