Conversationally Neutered

I have been on a bit of a self-imposed exile from the wilds of the Vancouver night life. Each time I do drum up the courage to venture out I'm quickly reminded about how much I prefer an evening on the sofa.

One of my most recent experiences was at an anniversary party for a restaurant that I like going to. They invited their customers to an evening with free food and booze. Pretty sweet. As I'm there with my girlfriend, we are noticing that no one is mingling. Everyone is staying with the groups they know. Standing on the other side of the counter from us were two guys. The entire time they never even bothered to make contact with anyone around them. My girlfriend had to leave early and as I got up to get myself a bite to eat, they took the seats we were occupying. When I returned they were rather embarassed but I was fine standing. It was at this point that conversation began. After a bit of small talk, I brought up my observation of people not engaging with others. One of the fellows told me that if I wanted to meet men in this town I needed to pull my shoulders back, stick my chest out and not open my mouth. He was serious. I have to admit I was rather stunned by this statement. I guess vapid barbie dolls are what men want.

During the Vancouver Wine Festival, I was in the tasting room every night. There is no better venue for engaging people in conversation. Everyone is walking around with wine. All you need to do is ask someone what they're drinking and what wines they've found exciting. Sadly, not even this fool-proof set-up can cause people to interact.

On another occasion, I was out for a girlfriends' birthday. After drinks and dinner the plan was to go out dancing. As we entered the venue of choice, we both looked around the room and realized it was hardly to our liking. But I believe in making the best of situations so we stuck it out for a bit. Ever go somewhere and look around a room and realize there isn't a single person in there (guy or girl) that you even want to talk to? As we were dancing I was observing the crowd. I noticed two attractive looking fellows sitting in a corner texting. Instead of interacting with real people they chose to stay in their virtual world. They weren't even talking to each other.

But on rare occasions you do find someone who gives communication a try. Recently, a friend of mine was communicating with a rather attractive guy. From his texts, he seemed smart and witty. What was really uncharacteristic was that he actually wanted to meet. Most times guys just want to message and text indefinitely. They ended up setting up a coffee date. Once they actually met, the conversation was non-existent. While nerves can play a part in decreased conversation skills, it didn't seem like the case. They parted ways before even finishing their coffee. No stranger to bad coffee dates, she didn't give it a second thought until not even 5 minutes later she receives a text from him saying he enjoyed meeting her. He then asked what she thought of him and if she'd be interested in seeing how the sex would be. WTF! What planet are these men from? For the record, she politely declined saying she just didn't feel that sort of connection with him. No other texts were received.

So all of these things have gotten me to thinking. What has happened to Vancouver Guy 2.0? It's almost like an evening out is a replay of a junior high dance with the guys on one side of the room and the girls on the other. They want to talk to each other but just have no clue how to do it. Are there just too many ways to be social virtually that we have lost the skills to actually interact with one another?

Or, is there something in the water that is neutering us conversationally?

Tweet #22

There is an upcoming Menopause/PMS seminar at the community centre across the street from my apartment. Are the notices intended to be informative or a warning?

Valentines Day - The Hallmark Holiday

Valentine's Day gets its name from various early Christian martyrs named Valentine and they had nothing to do with romance. The most widely repeated legend regarding Valentine's Day was actually provided by American Greetings so my calling it a Hallmark Holiday really isn't wrong.

My fondest memory of Valentine's Day was from when I was a little girl. Dad used to come home with a big heart-shaped box of chocolates for mom and a little heart-shaped box for me. I still remember how special I felt when he gave it to me.

Valentine's Day is the romantic equivalent of New Years' Eve. On New Years, you feel obligated to party and celebrate. On Valentine's the obligation is to be romantic. I don't like being forced to do anything. I don't need to be told when to party or when to be romantic. I can do both very well without any prompting.

I actually feel very sorry for men in February. One wrong move and you're an instant dumbass. My ex used to say that the jewellers and florist were all conspiring against him and I really don't think he was too far wrong. The flip side to all the hype is that if you are single, nothing like a day that hammers home the fact that you're alone.

Perhaps some people need the media assault to remind them to take a few minutes to do something special for their partner. Kind of sad really. Somehow the flowers seem less fragrant if you know that the only reason you got them is because society dictated it.

As much as we like to think we're above the hype, I think most women secretly want to be acknowledged in some way on that day. It doesn't need to be an over the top gesture, a simple card can be enough. As for me, well, I'd give anything to get another heart-shaped box of chocolates from my dad.

Mommy Dearest

Those of you that know me well know that my relationship with my mother has always been 'challenging'. Since 2008, those 'challenges' have increased. As much as I am the quintessential Leo, mom is a textbook Gemini. I never know which version I'm going to get when I call or visit her. The fact that our relationship has always been a battle is something that has always upset me but I've pretty much made my peace with it. That said, she still knows how to push my buttons. She did install them afterall. We are now embarking on another challenging adventure.....she's moving into a retirement facility.

In 2008, my parents moved from the house they had been in for 42 year into a condo. Their health issues and age made staying in that house completely impractical. I took on the mother of all downsizing projects. In 42 years, they had thrown out nothing. Just to give you an example, I found paint cans dating back to the pre-historic era. Dad's theory was, we have the room, why get rid of it. I had to battle my mother on every item I tried to throw away. Seeing as I had years of practice battling her, I came out the victor.

The condo she moved into was very nice. Even nicer after my friends and I spent the evening prior to the move re-painting it and my friend H spent 6 hours attacking the kitchen with a steam cleaning machine. Turns out those kitchen cupboards were actually white. Dad didn't get to spend much time with her there unfortunately and since he's been gone, she's been lonely. So she decided a retirement facility is where she'd like to go. But not until she sold the condo.

One year ago we started that journey. I figured the condo would sell reasonably quickly and within a few months I could resume my life. Not so. The real estate market was not in my favor and mom complained everytime someone came to view the condo. Remember the movie Groundhog Day? That was me. I had to repeat the same scenario each time there was an upcoming viewing. People don't buy real estate without looking at it first. Then in periods where there were no viewings, she'd complain about how lonely she was and in the same conversation say how the neighbors were too nosy and chatty. WTF. My dad once said, when people get old, they get funny. How true. But my mom has always been funny and not in the ha ha kind of way.

With the listing close to expiring, mom had had enough and decided she didn't want any more showings. She was just going to stay put. I'm sure my decision to return to Vancouver on a more permanent basis helped her make that decision. And then the unexpected happened, we got an offer. My anxiety level went through the roof at the thought of telling her but to my surprise, she was very calm. Lulled into a false sense of security, I proceeded with the negotiations and an acceptable offer was made. When I called her with the good news, she freaked. After screaming at me for 15 minutes, I had to hang up. Thank goodness I have a well stocked bar.

Realizing she was scared because she had no idea where she was going to live next (with me is NOT an option), I set up a couple of appointments at retirement facilities. We had done quite a few tours last year so I had a good idea as to where we wanted to go and found 2 places with availability. Yesterday we headed out on that adventure. I am happy to report that our journey was successful. That doesn't mean it was a cake walk but it ended well. She found a lovely apartment in a nice facility where she will be taken care of and I will be able to start drinking less. OK, that last bit is a bit of a stretch considering I have to get through another move with her.

So downsizing part 2 begins. It will be a breeze after the last one but you may want to buy shares in Belvedere because I see increased sales for them in the next few months.

Like a moth to a .......... Dumbass?

So a girlfriend called last night looking for some advice. Seems as though there are two gentlemen who are interested in her but she's having a tough time making a decision. One, is really nice and the other.......a dumbass.

Now, while the choice seems obvious (pick nice guy), why is it that we even find ourselves debating these things? I believe it is because we secretly hope that we have the skills to exorcise the dumbass out of them. Jesus was able to walk on water but I don't think even he had that sort of power.

And guys are just as bad. I have witnessed with my very eyes a guy pick a total bee-yotch over a girl who was sweet, pretty and kind. And then spend the rest of the relationship complaining about her. Dumbass.

So perhaps we're all just moths. Instead of being draw to flames we're drawn to dumbasses. The only New Years' resolution that I made was to be dumbass free in 2012 and so far, I'm successful. Granted it's still January but I'm 26 days in. That has to count for something. Perhaps there should be tokens available like there is in other recovery programs.

And as for my girlfriend, I told her to pick the nice guy and not let the dumbass take up any more real estate in her head. And I'm guessing that once she does that, he'll start pursuing her even harder.

Cause that's how dumbasses roll.

Tweet #21 - Ghetto Family Feud

This morning while I was in the gym, the channel the TV was tuned to was showing what looked like Ghetto Family Feud. Now before you get on your PC high horse, the reason I say that is that one of the first commercials I saw was for a class action lawsuit against 'Tippy Soup Containers'. So if you've burned yourself with spilled Mr Noodles, you can sue.

I rest my case.

Bambi On Ice

This morning I woke up to snow on the ground. I'm beyond thrilled. It's pretty easy to be thrilled by a snowfall when you don't have to get in a car and drive anywhere. Don't get me wrong, I've maneuvered that Camaro in some pretty interesting conditions with great success. It's all the other morons out there that are the problem. But that's not the topic of todays' blog.

As I was staring out the window at the snow covered seawall, I happened to notice two brave souls out jogging. I must admit I was very impressed. I could only imagine if I were to attempt such a daring feat. While I can guide a car through ice and snow with ease, guiding myself has proven to be problematic. My ex-husband used to call me Bambi On Ice. While it may sound cruel, it really is an accurate description. I've sky-dived, para-sailed even rode the 'Flying Fish' in Bali yet walking down a snow covered sidewalk is my most daring endeavor.

And don't tell me that 5" heels are not appropriate footwear in the snow. They're brilliant. All you do is dig that heel in and go.

Let it snow!

Random Thoughts: An Interactive Blog

I pose a question.....

Which do you think would have more success.....Hitting on the guy doing a diaper run or the guy on the beer run?

Discuss.

Bed Hog

I've gotten used to sleeping alone in my king size bed. Even though I tend to keep to one side, it's nice being able to stretch out when the mood strikes. Here in Italy, I have to share a bed. It's not so bad most nights but occasionally I feel my sleep space being encroached upon. I don't mind the warm body pushed up next to me or even having the covers pinned down. The snoring is what bothers me the most.

But I just don't have the heart to kick him out of bed. Would you?

High Heels and Cobblestones: Italian Driving Rules

I recently came across some observations that I wrote 8 years ago when I first moved to Italy. Surprisingly (or not), most are still valid today. So I thought I'd share some of these orginal stories. I've called this collection, High Heels and Cobblestones because like those two items, Italy and I sometimes don't work well together.

Italian Driving Rules

Driving in Italy is a daily adventure. Each day when I’m out I see something new and absurd done. I’ve stopped being shocked and surprised. To help any future travelers, I’ve compiled a list of rules. I’m sure these will help you make sense of the Italian roads.

#1. If your car fits you can go there

#2. If your car doesn't fit, you can still go there

#3. Just because your lane does not have a dotted white line down the middle does not mean it's not 2 lanes

#4. Signals????? Obviously a North American concept. Except in LA

#5. If you drive anything 2 wheeled, you can go anywhere you want. Traffic laws do not apply to you.

#6. Stop signs. A roadside decoration of no real purpose.

#7. Passing. Solid white line, dotted white line, yellow line. They are just a guideline. Kind of like in video games.

#8. If you see someone you know, feel free to stop to say hello. Pulling off to the side not required.

#9. If, while driving, you intersect with a one way street, and your destination happens to be behind you, feel free to turn left then throw it in reverse and punch the accelerator until you find a parking spot. On-coming traffic, or in this case, rear-coming traffic will adjust.

#10. If you and your buddies desire to have an impromptu game of soccer, feel free to play where ever you like. Major roadways need not be excluded as the traffic will adjust

Luxury Dog Tax

The economic woes of various European countries has been a news staple for the last few months. Italy has recently made some major changes to their political landscape and the country's economic state is causing many to worry. So what can a stuggling economy due to bolster its coffers? Tax dogs of course.

One of the economic measures being proposed is to place a tax on 'luxury dogs'. You are probably asking yourself (as I did) what is a luxury dog? This has yet to be properly defined but the best guess would be a dog purchased from a breeder versus one picked up at the humane society. The logic here is, if you can afford to spend the money to purchase one of these dogs and care for it, you're obviously making too much money and you should be taxed. This tax is on top of the licensing and registration fees you already pay for your dog.

In a country where abandoning your pet is common place when you go on holiday, this is the worst idea possible. As it is, many Italians just abandon Fido and Puss Puss before going on vacation. They can't be bothered to find accomodation for their animals while they hit the beaches so they just set them free. Can you imagine what will happen if this tax is actually put in place? Pampered pooches will be left to their own devices. Scenes from Beverly Hills Chihuahua are running through my head (don't judge me, I was on a plane when I watched it).

Animal activists are already up in arms about this and rightfully so. I suggested that all one had to do is take their pet to the humane society and put it up for adoption then go back the next day and adopt them. They would then have paperwork stating that they got their dog from the humane society instead of a fancy breeder.

Just doing my part to help out our furry four-legged friends.

Vanity and the Italian Male

I've been away from Italy for almost 9 months and naturally a few things have changed while I was away. Some of my entertainment these days involves catching up with these changes.

The hair salon that I go to here moved during my absence. They chose a newer, smaller space which costs them less per month. This makes perfect business sense. As the space is smaller, they had to eliminate a feature that their old space had. The Man Cave.

You may be asking yourself, what is a Man Cave in a hair salon? A Man Cave in the hair salon was an area specifically dedicated to men who were getting their hair dyed. They had their own private area for the entire hair coloring process. This included a hair washing station.

The new space had no room for this feature. They have compensated by partitioning off an area to make it private for them during the coloring process but they must use the same hair washing area as everyone else. That means, others will see that they are getting their hair dyed. The horror! They have actually already lost a few male clients due to this lack of privacy issue.

As you can imagine, when this story was told to me, I was in hysterics. No sympathy here from me. I've never heard of this sort of thing being made available for women. Perhaps in some uber-swishy spa but salon procedures already cost me an arm and a leg so spending extra for this sort of thing seems silly.

I've also been totally wrong about what a Man Cave was for. I thought it was for watching sports and playing video games undisturbed. I now realize it's for the guys to get together and dye their hair.

Welcome back to Italy

I've only been back in Italy 24 hours and already my patience is being put to the test.

As it turns out, today there is a 10 hour driving ban. If you happen to have a vehicle with an even numbered plate, you can't drive from 9 am to 7 pm. As it turns out, both our cars have even numbered plates. The reason for this driving ban is to help the pollution situation. There is an increased amount lately due to the lack of wind and rain so extreme measures have been put into play. Now I understand the reason for this but this happening on my first day back is a bit of a pain. I guess I don't get to ease back into Italian life.

Welcome home WineSnob.

Women Can Be Dumbasses Too

If a guy calls you the wrong name, then begs your forgiveness in the street, even if you tell him to take his bicycle and go home, if you give him another shot....you are a dumbass.

If a guy stands you up for coffee more than once yet you still give him option #3.... you are a dumbass.

Hotel Etiquette

Open letter to my fellow guests,

Shut the F Up!

To the Russian boys, I get that you're having a good time but it's midnight and the rest of us don't want to listen to you. Plus we can't understand a word you're saying which makes eavesdropping useless. You really don't want me to come out there and Shhhh you. You are just lucky that my door was double locked because at 1 am you were about to get an earful and by the time I managed to navigate the intricate set of hotel locks you'd already scurried into your room.

To my neighbors, I'm really sorry that you have to be up at 7 am but I don't. How loud must you be at that hour? The sun wasn't even up yet. Unlike you, I need my beauty sleep and I don't have a timetable.

Hotel walls are paper thin. You don't realize it because I'm a polite hotel neighbor. Next time, I'll rent a screaming kid to prove my point.

But He Seemed So Nice Last Night When I Was Drunk

Best Line EVER!! It's what my girlfriend said to me after telling me her latest dumbass tale.

I have now become the go-to gal for dumbass stories. I'm actually enjoying it as it makes me feel like it isn't just me that attracts these amazing individuals. So on the weekend my friend was at the Commodore where she met two brothers. One was obviously smitten with her but she took a shine to the other brother. During the night she actually said to him that he seemed 'so much smarter' than his brother. Oh how those words would come back to haunt her.

So after and enjoyable night of drinking and dancing, numbers were exchanged with the promise to see each other soon. The next morning upon turning on her phone there was an awaiting text with an invite to go to Squamish and climb the Chief. After a polite refusal, she proceeded to receive a series of texts detailing a dream that he had the night before. I love technology. In the old days, the dumbasses verbally told you these things. Now, they write them for a permanent record of their dumbassedness. All it takes is a little copy & paste and you can share their eloquent prose. What follows is what my friend received. I almost snorted out my wine when I read it so you've been warned.


.....had a wonderful dream about you last night, it was so vivid, I was a pirate, sailing the blue waters of the bahamas, when I bumped into you, would you like to hear it? Might take some time to write it down, and parts are a little risque', I am intrigued, did you ever instantly know you were going to like and trust someone for a long, long time, a timeless connection, I believe the greatest adventure is to explore one's passions, we seem to walk the same path, light years apart....its precisely this deep connection that is so charming, spiritual and unlimited, for I am also an intellectual adventurer as well, willing to sink my ship in the ocean of infinity..... to begin the world anew, have a wonderful day.

....Tropical storm had been raging for two days when your ship had gone down, after that... only clouded memories adrift in the waves, when you thought you could not hold on any longer, you felt the strong hands of a stranger lift you out of the water, so tired you drift off again, next time your eyes open, you hear the waves crashing on the shore, look to see yourself in a seaside cabana, with a note......it says 'Milady....water and a fruit are at the table, have gone to catch lunch, throw on the some clean clothes, and join me out at the surf when your ready ' I see you standing on shore of this tropical paradise, in that moment as you feel that exquisite pleasure, the intense feeling of our attraction, a smile washes over your face, as you wave, so happy to be alive, as I climb out of the surf, you see the muscles strain to carry the catch up the beach, a little rough on the edges, this pirate was all man, knowing he could have taken advantage of her vulnerability, he was the perfect gentleman, "where am I" you ask?"

...."Your on my island....I rescued you from drowning...I am T, but some call me the Waterwolf" as I kiss your hand....come.....we will replenish your strength from some of the supplies I recovered from your ship, I break open a case of the most exquisite vintage wine, untouched by the salt water, poured into the large goblet, hand it to you, before taking a big swig out of the bottle myself, savouring the rich taste this wine....

....Some pirate dream eh....;) sorry about that ramble, writing is a creative outlet for me, the wine was Mission Hill I think....someday I will tell you how the dream ends.....

So after deciding that accepting his Facebook request was not in her best interest and that perhaps this dude is a bit much for her, she politely offered to introduce him to me. She's selfless like that. As flattered as I was, I declined the offer.

I think Waterwolf will be enjoying his catch and his vintage Mission Hill all by himself. He won't be sinking his ship in my friends' ocean of infinity.

Note.....no grammar was corrected in the texts.

The Real Dumbasses....The Sequel

So it seems my last blog resonated with more than a few people. Always nice to know that people are reading and enjoying. Some readers felt compelled to share a few of their dumbass stories. I think there may be a market for this reality show.

Most of the stories that were told involved incounters with men from dating websites. As I have long suspected, this is a dumbass breeding ground. No need to go out, you can be a dumbass from the comfort of your own home or office. (If they're being dumbasses from the office, odds are they are married).

One story that I found most amusing was the dumbass who was indeed messaging from the office. (Yes, he was married). After a brief period he chose to send images of his erect penis. Seriously? I'm wondering what kind of response he was looking for. What is the correct response to that? And if one picture wasn't enough, he proceeded to send 2 more. Now here's the thing... Guys, if you are going to send penis shots to a girl you need to know that she will save them and when the girls are over drinking wine, she will show them. And they will laugh. I'm pretty sure this isn't the reaction you were looking for. I happened to view the aforementioned photos and what caught my eye was that he was wearing a different shirt in the third shot. Again, I'm pretty sure that wasn't what I was supposed to be noticing. What happened between shot 2 & 3 to warrant an outfit change? Best not to know.

Another story along a similar vein was of the dumbass who decided to send what he deemed an 'artistic' photo. Taken in the bathroom (naturally) he was butt naked with his hand covering the family jewels. Artistic and tasteful was how he described it. I guess my definition of artistic differs from others.

One dumbass requested a video chat. Upon acceptance, he proceeded to do a striptease. My source told me he was no Chippendale. Too bad that one wasn't recorded for wine night.

Now for all you non-dumbass males reading, please don't take offense. You just don't make for good blog-fodder.

The Real Dumbasses of Vancouver

There is a new installment of the Real Housewives series being filmed and Vancouver was lucky enough to be chosen as the first Canadian city for the franchise. I have never watched any of the Housewives shows but I am curious to see the Vancouver edition. That said, I think a new franchise is needed. The Real Dumbasses.

I am going to offer my services to Bravo. I figure there has to be a way to profit from my dumbass attraction skills. I posed this question to a friend of mine tonight and he came up with the reality TV idea. That's all it took for the train to leave the station.

This show wouldn't just be entertaining, it would be informative. By interviewing the dumbasses, we could actually get to the root of dumbassedness. It could be a reality/intervention hybrid show. Behaviors could be explained. Such as, why do men insist on taking pictures of themselves in the bathroom then sending them to women? Or, why do you intently pursue someone then just as quickly stop? Is it an ADD thing perhaps? Why go to all the trouble of arranging a meeting then just ignore the confirmation request or worse still, just not show up?

But in fairness, women can be dumbasses too so there could be a segment on that. Although the male casting pool would be much, much larger not to mention more entertaining. Facebook etiquette could be addressed. As in, is it appropriate to Facebook friend a want-to-be porn star while you're in a relationship?

I see huge potential here. If those idiots in Jersey can be successful I think anyone can. I may have to unleash my inner Italian crazy though to make it truly interesting. Shouldn't be too hard. All I'd have to do is talk to my mother right before the cameras started to roll.

Tweet #20

After 20 of these, I had to shorten the title.

Now I realize that I have a fair bit of time on my hands but obviously there are people out there with way more free time than me. Those people stack rocks along the seawall. I've been seeing these balancing acts for years now and sometimes I even see the 'artist' out there asking for 'donations'.

Really? Prove to me that you haven't used 2 part epoxy and I'll consider 'donating' to your artist endeavor. #BlameInnukshuk

4:20 In The Rest Home

I wind up having the strangest conversations with people. Yesterday I was at my chiropractor and she was asking how my mom was doing after her fall (2 hairline fractures in her pelvis btw). I told her mom was doing as well as can be expected and that I have seen improvement in her movement even if she denies it (I see you moving, no sense denying). Mom is getting by on loads of Tylenol 3. From here the conversation took an interesting turn.

Once you reach a certain age (mom is 83) you should be allowed pretty much anything. You kind of deserve it. My chiropractor suggested that more old people should smoke pot. Not the super-duper strains that are out there right now but the older more mellow strains. I've never been a pot smoker. I've tried it twice. The last time was probably over 25 years ago. I was in the Commodore (pre-renos) and ended up falling asleep at the table. In my defense, the Back Doors were playing (a Doors tribute band) and the music did sort of lull me into a very mellow state.

I suggested Medical Marijuana to which she agreed. She said you can get all different kinds. Some that help with pain, some that stimulate appetite (kind of thought all pot did that) and other strains that help with mood fluctuations. This in turn would lead to other benefits such as children would probably visit their ageing parents more often if they were mellower and the grandchildren would probably visit more frequently just to smoke up with them. Instead of happy hour the retirement home could have a gathering at 4:20 each day.

Think of it as the Grateful Not Dead Yet.