Visitation rights...

Who the hell does he think he is?!?!

This is the question I yelled as I threw an oven mitt across the kitchen and against the wall early this evening as I realized another reason why The Ex Man and I are no longer. It's just lucky for the kitchen wall and the neighbours that I didn't choose something a little more smashy to throw, although the kitchen chair was my next obvious choice.

The Ex Man is leaving the abode in exactly 5 days, three hours and 55 minutes. I had invited a mutual friend over for dinner and asked if he wanted to partake in the chicken/shrimp/roasted vegetable combo that we would be ingesting for dinner. With an irritated look on his face and several minutes and a deer in a headlight look later, he said no, that he didn't feel like it. I took that as his answer, and although annoyed about the look on his face and the fact that it took over 10 minutes to answer, I headed out to pick up the chicken breast and roasted potatoes I was missing. I was gone less than 20 minutes. It is also important to note that the said friend was bringing her dog so Boyo and he could be introduced.

I learned two lessons tonight: 1. Do not go to the grocery store hungry, as my $100 bill will attest - I came in for chicken and mini potatoes; 2. When The Ex Man has an annoyed look on his face he will leave the house, taking the dog with him - the same dog that was to meet the dog of the mutual friend.

I'm not upset that he decided not to accept my invitation to share our dinner. I wasn't even really angry at the deer caught in the headlight look since I've gotten used to it over the past four years. What I am pissed about is that he was spiteful and Boyo was caught in the middle.

He took the dog to the park without any mention of his intention to take him. He took him while I was out, knowing that it was expected that the dogs would have a meet-up and potential play date. And, this is the big one - it was that he did it out of spite because for whatever reason he was unhappy that I invited this mutual friend over to share in the BBQ.

If you've read anything about passive-aggressive people it's that they express themselves and their feelings not in words but in little actions like this. For instance, if the Ex Man was mad that he had to launder the bedsheets, he would let me know by not ever my putting pillow cases on my pillows. If he was miffed that he emptied the dishwasher twice in a row he would express his dissatisfaction by boycotting dish duty for weeks at a time and then bring up the fact that I said I would empty the dishwasher three months ago and did it the next day instead of the day I had uttered those words. If we ended things and he stayed for two months longer, he would not do or help with any chores for that period of time. And, when asked why he had originally taken advantage of me one that fateful day in May, he said it was because he could.

On a one-on-one basis, these are petty complaints (except for the latter complaint). They are not relationship breakers. Oh, so he didn't put your pillow cases on your pillows... so what... And, I would tend to agree with you if this was an isolated incident. It's just a few examples in a myriad of incidents, including ignorning my request to crate Boyo whenever we were sleeping after the pup ate my sock and ended up almost dying. Did he listen to my concerns and follow my lead, knowing I had already lost five pairs of underwear and four socks because the dog can't control himself around my undergarments? The answer would be no, having on at least five occasions left the dog to amuse himself with my gotchies. This is despite the fact that I explained my reasoning the same five times and asked if he was just paying lip service to me.

He expects to visit Boyo after he moves out, perhaps having a sleepover at his new bachelor crib and taking him to the dog park - in short, he wants visitation rights and I would not be surprised if he brought up joint custody. The answer, especially after tonight, would be a resounding no. Just like he does not have access to the couch, coffee table, washer, dryer, fridge and stove that were all here before he moved in, the Boyo remains with me. He's not a possession, but i had adopted him before the common-law partnership and I intend to keep him. And while I had considered these visitation rights, I am now nervous that the Ex Man will show up and hoist the pooch into the back of his now licenced and insured car and take off on a cross-province, cross-country abduction run.

Again, I will say that it appears I'm making a mountain out of a molehill. This could be true, but judging from past experience, this little jaunt to the park is a wolf in sheep's clothing. On the outside, it's all fluffy white clouds and a frolic through a pastoral hillside. On the inside, the wolf is lying in wake, zipping up his wooly costume and licking his lips at his clever disguise.

Altering legal unions

Twitter is all a-twitter with the news... same-sex couples in New York can now marry making it the sixth state in the United States of America to see the light. Or, at least, the New York State legislature gave its final nod for the bill that will see same-sex couples heading to the altar.

I've been married before in a male-female union. I've walked down the aisle surrounded by family and friends to stand in front of a minister and exchange vows. I had the big party with the numerous shots and Jesus Christ Margaret caught in the bushes smoking the same cigarettes she vowed she gave up. I even had two out of three bridesmaids sick with the flu but there nonetheless to lend support, stand up with me and even help me pee in a white flowy gown. We had a first dance, the cutting of the cake and many photographs to document the special day. I just believe that everyone should have the right to the wedding of their choice to the man or woman of his or her dreams regardless of whether they're straight, gay, lesbian or aliens. If you love someone enough to want to spend the rest of your life with them, then no one should stop you regardless of what others think the bible says.

I wrote a post a while back in my first days of blogging about my new religion - compassion. Compassion for everyone - man, woman, child, animal, mineral... you get the picture. I try not to judge anyone until I've walked in their shoes. Imagine my dismay when I wandered upon a Tweeter that not only spewed forth religious quotes but in the same breath called gays the one word in the English language that makes me shudder... fags.

I'm not going to give you the web page address of this hateful site. It's vulgar. What I will say is that while everyone is entitled to their opinion, the abhorrent hatred laid out on this site and others like it is the only thing about this gay marriage debate that I find offensive. I find it offensive that followers of what is supposed to be an all-loving god can throw such hatred to the winds, going as far as to say that god will deliver a fate worse than 9/11 simply because two people want to commit to each other, no matter their sex or sexual orientation.

I'm not centering on one religion, one denomination, but all that take this stance. I'm straight but I will not pass judgment on those who find the same sex worthy of their love. It's just too bad that sites like the one I stumbled across could not stay away from the hateful, mud-slinging narrow-mindedness that proves we're not as evolved as we'd like to think we are.

F-O-W-L

I'm in a foul mood today and the only way I can describe it is with three letters. P.M.S.

It's a few days before the circus visits and the clowns start to come out of the really small Volkswagen Beetle juggling. My mood depends on how many clowns and if they hit any organs with those damn bowling pins they use in their act. I think they've got about 50 in there, judging from the scowl on my face and my urge to throw things against the wall. Luckily, I've stuck with jello, and while it doesn't seem to stick, it does leave a goopy mess, which I will have to clean up.

Speaking of which, I'm supposed to be cleaning. Instead, I'm surfing, watching a soap opera and thinking "I really should move my ass today." So far, my self-motivation hasn't worked. I'm thinking it's because on a unconscious level I am looking to sabotage myself. And, I don't know why.

I have two tenants coming by to look at my place as a potential head-resting place. I should be aiming to get it into showcase shape. I'm not. I have dishes to do, bathrooms to clean and a floor to mop. But I'm not. I'm thinking the bad mood has something to do with it. Or just sheer laziness. Whichever it is, it's not exactly inspiring, it's not putting my best foot forward. Instead, I want to put my foot up someone's ass.

So, beforewarned. Tread lightly. And when I'm feeling better I will feel horrid and apologize profusely. Until then, my blogosphere. Wish me luck (and say a prayer for the poor sucker who gets the foot).

Let there be... AIR!

I know I needed some air... some breathing room, alone time, space... but what I truly missed most has now returned and just in time.

Last month, during one of the hottest days (it was 28 degrees in the house), I flipped on the AC that had not been used since the weather cooled down last year. I flipped from "Heat" to "Cool" on the newly installed thermostat and click... and then nothing. No fan. No air. And praise Darwin, how I needed that air.

It wasn't a new problem. I had to replace a couple of fuses last summer (again, during Heataggedon), and it seemed like the issue was resolved. That is, until I flipped the switch again a few weeks ago. Nothing. I turned on the ceiling fans to give some reprieve and stepped out to buy more fuses, changed the fuses, crossed my fingers and... Nothing.

Calls into the AC company garnered no results. "It's electrical," they said. "The AC should work. There's an issue with your wiring." $100 later and I still had no results, so I called in an electrician that had come recommended and with a reasonable price tag for a home visit. That was this morning.

By reasonable, I mean that the bill did not enter into the $300 mark for an hour-and-a-half visit. At $200, I expected some answers, and although the AC is now working and my electrical has received a full health check, I'm still wondering why the AC worked for the cologne-doused electrician and not for me.

I'm thinking it was because the AC unit could smell him coming and wanted limited interaction. I personally don't mind a little scent here and there but not the Drakkar cloud at nine in the a.m. Or, the unit may have been in lust with the guy and his scent and was all set to impress.

Either way, the summer is now a little more bearable. It may also spur on The Ex Man's packing as the countdown is now on... T minus 10, people, before Scribe is officially on her own again.

I'm climbing that mountain when I get to it...

The boots may have been for walking, but my wedge sandals were definitely not.

Tonight, I ventured into Burlington for The Sound of Music Festival. There were no Von Trapp Family Singers, no climbing every mountain but there was a hell of alot of walking and people watching as Anasatan and friends headed into the downtown core near the waterfront to listen to an array of music - from Dixieland jazz and Indie Rock to the classic stylings of The Nylons.

Now, if you don't know who The Nylons are, you're not alone. I don't know many of their songs but our friend Leenie loves them. Literally loves them. If she could have worked her way through the throngs of people, of all ages, and to the stage, I think she would have thrown a pair of undies at the guys and their drum machine. As it was, she had to settle for standing room only at the back of the crowd. I, however, opted for the less crowded area across the street, and that was okay by me especially for my favourite pasttime - people watching.

Of course, eye candy is always welcome but I'm talking more about the mix of people - the Abercrombie and Finch crowd, the motorcycle dudes, the nuclear families with 2.5 kids and a dog - they were all there and represented all age ranges.

It was a welcome reprieve from the sort-of bad news I received today. I attended a meeting at City Hall today to discuss an upcoming event in which the association willl be participating. The meeting went well - the officials were excited about our involvement and the whole theme of the city-wide event. The disappointment came a little later when talking to the executive director of the association who told me that unfortunately there is only eight weeks of funding left for the work I've been given instead of the end-of-September deadline as previously mentioned. We're working on finding sponsorships for the event, with a portion of the donation earmarked for the program itself, and hopefully, my continued involvement. Paid involvement.

And even though I knew that there was a chance that the funding would run out and my contract may not be permanent, I was still hoping. Hoping that they realize the worth I can bring, and at the same time, love the work I'm doing. I love working on the program and it allows me to work from home when needed. So, it's two months, and it's better than nothing, but I'm still panicking just a little. The Ex formerly known as The Man moves out and onward into his own apartment, out of the relationship and out of my life. With  the move comes a lack of help on  the mortgage front. I have not yet had any luck in securing tenants, and I'm not really sure why. The good thing is that further change is coming and instead of running from it, I'm trying to embrace it no matter how many demons spew forth from my mind.

I am happier - case in point, tonight. I was able to put the upcoming contract end in the back of my mind to enjoy the festival, the sights, the sounds and a pretty cool braclet and ring I picked up for a song and dance.

Oh, and how I did dance. In the crosswalk, the intersection, all through the festival locale. I think Anasatan was mortified, judging from the shaking of the head and the eye rolling. But, I'm used to that. She's just glad I didn't sing "Climb Every Mountain" or put on the puppet show with the lowly goats. Perhaps next year...

Shame, Vancouver, for shame...

I know I'm going to get lynched for this but... "it's just a hockey game, people!"

Since when does a dismal loss in the Game 7 Stanley Cup Final become a catalyst for pushing, shoving, setting fires and utter unrest in a city that just a little while ago was so full of love, hope and friendship?

The city of Vancouver and certain Canucks fans showed a dismal side tonight, milling in the streets shouting obsenities, damaging properties and taking matches and accelerants to parking structures. And for what? A rather pitiful final hockey game.

Sure, I was disappointed that the Canucks did not want the Stanley Cup enough to tromple the Bruins as they and the city had predicted. Sure, I was frustrated when the judges allowed the third goal in the game, but I did not take to the streets with violence in my heart.

It's a hockey game for which tickets were dear. But that hardly condones the actions of the people who took to the streets and showed a very different side of our west coast brothers and sisters.

The Canucks lost. They lost big, and Luongo should have been replaced in the third period. They did not play well and Tim Thomas was unstoppable in the Bruins' net. End of story. End of the season.

And that, my friends, will be the last post about my nation's favourite sport. I tip my hat (if I was wearing one) to the Bruins. I'm sure there will be no such reaction on their streets when they bring the cup home. I am more than a little bit ashamed to be a Canadian tonight.

Hanky panty...

I'm all into checking out my blog's stats - namely who visits and how they find me. Imagine my disturbance when I saw that someone visited my blog by typing in "ice skating panties." I just hope it was a misspelling...

I don't think I own a pair of ice skating panties and have no clue as to what  they would look like. I know mine would be with a massive amount of padding as I would be falling on my ass the entire skate time. Kindergarteners would skate circles around me, laughing, pointing and taunting me because they can do the hockey stop and all I can do is stop with my face...

Psst... buddy, can ya hide this for me?

It's official. I am now a contract worker for a community safety association in my hometown.

You know that media launch I was working on last month? Well, it was a resounding success. So much in fact, that I was personally recognized in the speeches and thanked profusely. It led to more work helping to organize a golf tournament, and today, I headed in to continue my work on the neighbourhood program I helped to launch to the masses. It's a good day, blogosphere.

Now in saying that, the gig is not full-time. Yet. There's pesky budgets and government funding to go through first, which can mean a lot of red tape. But, I'm in a unique position to market myself to government agencies, associations and the like. I'm gaining experience and confidence, sloughing off the asswipes and their negativity at Cell Block C.

Funny you should mention them... two of the wardens were at the golf tournament last week. And, as I figured it was ass-kissing time, but this time it was my ass being kissed. Guilt does a wonderous thing to people. I was professional at all times. I didn't take out the shiv I had prepared just in case. I also didn't ram their head into the putting contest billboard, though the bile still formed in my throat.

The best thing about being on this journey is the realization that I will be okay and that the job that had me in ulcers means nothing in the long-term. What matters is that I move forward, upward and onward with my head held high and a skip to my step. But, if you don't mind, I think I'll still hang onto the shiv just to keep my gangsta rep intact...

Chinese Water Torture

Recently, I've gained four people who now follow my blog. Thank you for coming and checking me out. BUT, Blogger has not let me access my "follower" list in weeks so I don't know whose new and whose still there.

I'm always one to give a welcome to anyone new, visit their own blogs and comment on anything that has caught my interest. With Blogger's little guffaw, I can't and it sucks.

So for those who've recently joined me at Scribing Life, make yourself known and let me know how to access your blog and I'll be sure to connect.

Next step is to hang Blogger up by its fingernails and perhaps some Chinese water torture. 'Cause I'm evil like that.

Solitary

When I woke up this morning, I had made a decision. I would do what I never do. It could have meant anything - brush my teeth with Preparation H, eat dessert for breakfast, take up yodelling or decide to roll in the mud pit that is my backyard. The point was I was to do something that I would not do normally.

So, I went to the movies. That in itself is not unusual. While I don't go often, I have on occasion picked up the phone and invited friends to go to a movie or stepped out with the now ex for a little popcorn and Hollywood. Today, I went by myself. And, it wasn't as awkward or weird as I thought it would be.

It did help that it was a matinee, so the theatre was a little emptier than normal. It also helped that I was a little late in getting there (no surprise for any of my close friends - watches and I do not mix). But, in a sense it was liberating - a step away from couplehood to the new single life that I will soon lead.

I am leading a single life at the moment - somewhat. The ex is moving out at the end of the month, having found a bachelor apartment to rest his head. It also means that I have less than a month to find new tenants to bear some of the load of running a household. That's not the daunting task - the hard part comes with opening the doors of my house to potential strangers, strangers with habits different than my own, habits that may irk me, and I must decide what can stay and what must go.

I am looking forward to a decluttering - of my house and my head. With the ex gone and his large, bulky furniture, I'm looking to make my bedroom light and airy - a fresh coat of paint, a fluffing of the duvet and perhaps some green apple sheets to put a little spring in my bed and my step.

Perhaps solitary won't be as daunting as I thought. And, I don't have to share the popcorn.