The world is pretty in pink…plus…sometimes it even sparkles

Not much went on this past weekend, except a lot went on. No evening plans were created. Which is what happens when everyone I know is out of town.  But I ended up having a lovely weekend full of wine, food and friends.

Albeit the wine and food were had by myself and my friend from Capetown (CPT) and I chatted. The time difference makes conversation difficult during the week. My Friday 7pm is his Saturday 4am – or something like that. So he’s drunk and I’m starting to enjoy a glass of wine apres work. We text using What’sApp and it’s pretty good convo.  I do wish that we either lived in the same city or the same time zone. Would make conversing easier. Hell it would make the choice of whether to date easier. For now the choice is made for us.

Saturday was random. Biked to the beach and met a friend or two to play some beach volleyball during the day with overcast skies and a drizzle of rain here and there. Quite frankly perfect for beach weather. But then the evening was weird. I don’t think I can even explain it. But I’ll try.

Ran into Jaques at the sailing club after volleyball and then had a beer.  The convo was weird. I was flustered because of English (I know…what? this is complicated) and I may have mentioned it. Why not? We are no longer dating. The topic got funny though…because some how he asked the question:

Him – “Do you think I’m a manwhore?”

Me. Without missing a beat. “Yes”

Him – ……”I am not!” with a laugh

Me. laughing “I kid”. but i don’t.

And then I ended up with crabs. No. Not those kind of crabs. THESE kind of crabs…

Fresh crab boiling in the pot.

Fresh crab boiling in the pot.

from the guys at the club who have a crab trap out. Jacques ended up with 2 and I ended up with 2. And then Jacques drove me home as I was puzzled how to cycle with 2 live crabs hanging off my handle bars.

For some reason I didn’t fully exhaust my friend list and I ended up boiling, cleaning and eating two full sized crab for dinner. Which did take the better part of three hours and I did drink some white wine. Thank god for youtube and instructional video on how to clean and break open a crab!

Sunday I ended up on the phone with my best friend who resides in the flood zone of Cowtown and ensuring her safety and going out to the sailing club to get a good sail in. Getting more practice at the helm! It was definitely nice to get some practice.

After sailing it got weird.

Drinks and nachos on the patio seemed decent. Then people started to leave. My friend Em showed up so I stayed and chatted with her. And Jacques stayed. Which, is the weird part.

Then. The reason why Jacques stayed showed up.

This girl showed up. She is lovely. In fact, ultimately, she and I hit it off. However, I had to endure watching him flirt with her. And be nice to her. Because of late all he does is pick on me. It’s getting old. I just want to slap him. But I don’t.

Let me clarify – picking on me with comments such as:

“It’s all Jewels fault” – umm huh? no.

“See…she complains all the time”  – to which I respond what am I complaining about? to which he had no response.

And not just once or twice. Multiple times. Trying to be funny. It got old. Not to mention the cutting me off in mid story/sentence. Quite frankly I had enough.

And then when we are one on one. He doesn’t say anything. It’s like pulling teeth to have a decent conversation.

Shoot me.

Well the girl and I went back to her place where she and I had a glass of wine and some left overs for dinner. THEN I became a flood gate because I am so fed up with Jaques. I should preface by saying the girl asked wtf is between you two. I don’t lie. But I didn’t omit. And I should have censored. I was a flood gate. I have kept this stuff away from the common knowledge of the club. Because like any environment if your personal life infiltrates it becomes food for the gossips. And I’d like to stay single and anonymous. But I’ve failed. I will however remain inevitably single. I said to the girl it’s been over four months since we kinda resolved whatever we were doing. He’s not mine, never was, I just wish he would stop being a jerk to me, because it’s not warranted.

Later I did text Jacques and ask what is deal was and if I did something to piss him off that he keeps picking on me or if its’ just my imagination.

Him: “It’s just your fertile imagination”

Me: “Fertile? Really. How does one text and convey an eye roll?”

Him: …

Me: …

So THAT’s a fun place to leave things. WTF does that mean? anyone?

I want Jacques to just bugger off. Leave me be. Stop picking on me. Stop sitting with me especially if I annoy him so much. Just walk away. I’m not going to take it personally. In fact the truth would be welcomed. Obviously I still have something unresolved with him. We don’t mesh well. I’m clumsy, messy and completely whatever. He’s orderly, ocdish, minimalist. Personality. I want to smack him half the time. He uses racist terminology at times. He complains. Everyone complains. Fucker. Look in the mirror.

I either love or hate. Wishy washy drives me insane. I have no patience. Passion. Ultimately we don’t mesh, but I need to not want to smack him when I see him. Or rip his head off.

Too bad he’s a good kisser and good looking. And knows it.

Alternatively, I can leave the table and avoid him. And quite frankly I would. If I didn’t need a ride home half the time because the 40 min bike ride seems really challenging or I have crabs. He can be useful.


Tuesday night…I was able to ask Jacques in person what his deal was. APPARENTLY i was annoying because I was monopolizing the convo.

Well…if that’s how you feel, fine. but you had no right to through my personal stuff into the convo and be rude

(did I forget to mention he basically made me sound like a slut because of English? Which is my fault because I didn’t quite explain).

“you didn’t need to be rude. You never need to be rude. It’s not nice.”

“I”m not a nice guy” said…admist laughter.

UGH. If I eye rolled any harder my eyes would have to be knocked from the back of my head.

I texted him later.

Look. If I’m annoying you in that way again…say something “let the girl get a word in!” and I”ll take heed. Don’t throw my personal stuff as a reason. I told you that stuff in confidence because I thought we were friends.

AND in my head, and we were dating at one point you fucking asshole so you know more than most would.

I got no response. Haven’t even seen him. I have no expectations. This weekend should be interesting.


First Regatta. Crew.

This past weekend was my first Regatta at the JSC.

I was lucky enough to crew on a 16 foot catamaran. Almost got fully up on the trapeze.

Placed second out of four boats. All thanks to Sam and his boat. I just did as I was told.

Hopefully there are photos. Proof of my participation. somewhere. So I can share. Aside from the bruises and weird tan lines from my short wet suit.  Currently it just looks like I’m in a really bad physical relationship. I assure you though, that the relationship is with sailing and other water sports.

Until then…just have to take my word.

Next up, back to the FJ and to practicing how to helm.

Just have to keep getting out on the water and getting over the nerves of over tacking and over gybing the boat.

This is nothing I’d rather be doing these days than learning how to sail.


Cross one item off the bucket list!!! Well for a beginner anyways…next step sailing solo and eventually catamaran (that’s the end goal). For now I’ll sit in my glory knowing that I finally did this sailing thing. Something I wanted to do for years.

For the past seven weeks, I’ve been tacking and gybing my way in a Flying Junior (FJ) dinghy with a partner as the FJ is a two person boat.


That is not me, nor is it Vancouver. But that is the type boat I’ve learned how to sail on. I passed the course. Not entirely sure how everyone passed the course. One would think that if a person rams their boat into the dock (which we don’t even use!) because they can’t figure out how to steer away from it, they should maybe not pass the beginners course.

No, that was not me and my crew who displayed such disregard for the basics. We had successfully capsized and righted the boat twice and landed at our spit before that crew could get their sh*t together.

I digress.

Now. I just need more practice before enrolling in the Intermediate classes for September and I have the entire summer to find a person to crew while I practice at the helm.

As wind is not a constant thing here in YVR or at the Sailing club for that matter. Tomorrow I’m learning how to self rescue in a kayak so I can take those out in the event the weather is not sailing friendly. (The club I belong to has a fleet for sailing, windsurfing and kayaing).

Just another part of this summer and how I am enjoying everyday of my life. Never in my adult life have I been more busy or content with the activities I’m doing or the life that I’m leading. I just need a few extra hours of sleep so I can get the practice for the 5K run I have coming up in August. Time IS running out on that one.

Fearlessly Living!

Four years ago, today in fact, I thought I cemented my future with a man. I had hopes and dreams that this man and I would be the long haul. We had each others best intentions at heart, for each other and for ourselves.  It was the best birthday gift a girl could ask.

Boy. Was I wrong. See every post about Filmguy or exes. I couldn’t have been more wrong or preoccupied with the idea that I had found my lobster.

Today, I’m single.

Living fearlessly.

Doing things that I want to do that he wouldn’t support or want to do for whatever reason.

Things that make me happy on a day to day basis.


  • I’m learning how to sail.
  • Playing so much beach volleyball I’m surprised I’m still standing (although my left leg today may have problems supporting that idea).
  • My house smells like surf and sand instead of red wine and boy.

So today I celebrate my thirtieth birthday for the fifth time and this weekend, (yes weekend, because lets be honest…I can do whatever I want), I will be attending a Mumford and Sons concert with the friends who introduced me to Edward Sharpe and the Magnetic Zeros the final time FlimGuy and I broke. Tomorrow is Champagne & Plain Potato Chips day/night and Sunday I’ll be continuing to learn how to sail.

As the events of my life continue to unfold, I will be on the look out for my partner for my life. But the one thing I’ve learned as I get older and reflect, especially on the past four years. That a partner for me is not a necessity. It’s a want. I will not force it. It will happen for me as it’s supposed to from whatever social opportunities I present for myself. And I’ve never been more “meh” with the idea. Maybe even content with it, until I think about the possibility of slipping in the shower, hitting my head, ending up unconscious and unable to call for help. Then maybe the idea of someone picking up the phone to call 9-1-1 might come in handy. Or the times when you get the flu and all you want is for someone to bring you ginger-ale and saltines. Other than that. No big deal. Really.

Life is pretty darn great. Currently, I wouldn’t want it any other way.

Now, will somebody gift me a housekeeper to do my laundry?

Happy thirty something Birthday to me 🙂

In a sad turn of events (but expected), English has returned to the cliffs of Dover. Literally. He got on a plane eastward bound in the wee hours of this morning.  He will be back in his homeland in time for the weekend and his continuation of fulfilling the next two to three years (I think) to qualify for his pension one day and return to Vancouver.

Even after the spastic-ness of myself last Friday evening, turns out I did not pooch the friendship and he is not ignoring me. Which I must say is a relief. He’s just letting me be the crazy (good and bad) Pirate Girl that I am and texting when he can and when he is near WiFi. Needless to say, the dependence on WiFi is painful and the window that was available Tuesday night to meet up evaporated when he texted me trying to use What’sApp. But to be clear, the texting is no longer as flirty as it was say…the first night he arrived.

It was a sad realization, however,  at 10:30pm Tuesday night to know we wouldn’t see each other again this trip. Failed texts and attempts to hang out have been thwarted by his popularity, my busy active single life and lack of technology or brain power to man up and pay the exorbitant text cost in Canada when the WiFi doesn’t work.

He did man up Wednesday morning and just texted using iMessage that came with the phrases “so sorry”, “can’t meet you on the North Shore”, “have a great time at the beach after work”, and “Big Hug”. Kinda feel like this has been a ploy so someone (ie. me) from Vancouver will come visit him in Kent. Or is that just optimistic and wishful thinking?

Regardless, I’m securely back in random friend zone, feeling like the connection we once had or have, does not translate well on text messaging or emails. It’s hard to explain. But I’ll take the friend zone. Not going to lie, it is a sigh of relief to know he’s still my friend. Now, if I’m a better friend (believe me, I’ve been that absent friend the last year), then next time he’s in town, maybe I won’t be relegated to the sorry pile.

 Life is better with him in it, whatever the status of the relationship is.

I Never Knew

I arrived at the pub at 12:30ish and ran into English who was talking with a former female co-worker, who definitely has a thing for this charming English man. And I was coming off a rough evening of honestly answered questions by Frenchie and realizations that I pick stupid men to hang out with.

English asked me what was wrong and I said…nothing. He knew different.
Female co-worker wish I would just leave. You could tell by her eyes and lack of conversation. So I drunkenly bought a round…inc. Female Co-worker and then found a seat with randoms who ended up buying me a shot while I waited for English to say good bye to her.

He did. Then I had a chance to finally talk with him.

Unfortunately I was drunk and a lot of the details are foggy. But it went something like this.

me – It’s been a year

him – two

me – since we met and i’m an idiot

him – *nodding yes*

me – and now you don’t live here. I miss you.

him – I miss you too.

*pause* hands holding

him – I have plans to stay at other peoples places, I just can’t ditch them…

me – I know.

him – i’m not seeing anyone in England or here.

me – will we ever know?

and then I don’t remember.

But I do remember this. I never knew I saw him that way until I was out with an asshole and all I wanted to do was be with English. See English. All because he kissed me. And I missed him. I missed our laughs, our random dancing at midnight, our candid conversations. I never knew I missed him until that moment.

And now it seems that he’s moved on from that. I don’t blame him either. Two years is a long time to wait for someone to get their act together. To go through the shit they needed too.

There has been some texting but nothing too flirty…just him saying he wishes he could see me. My feeling is, yes I understand, but if there’s a will there’s a way. Sometimes you just need to make things happen, especially if that’s what you want.

And I don’t think he wants. For no other reason than that. It’s not what he wants.

Sure it doesn’t help he’s living in England for the foreseeable future and I’m here.

I’ll deal with all this. There’s nothing else I can do. I can’t make him find time to see me let alone text or talk. If he no longer wants I can’t make him.

But I don’t remember him being this attractive, this put together in his life until now. And he’s possibly one of the nicest guys.

And I never knew.

I’ve known English for two years now. I don’t know if I’ve ever mentioned him here…..hmmmmm…..nope, doesn’t look like I had.

Long story short. I met English when my world with FilmGuy was tanking. The first time. We met at a friend’s birthday where the theme was Pirates. I have now forever been nicknamed Pirate Girl to him.

English was going through his own drama, but we leaned on each other and drank some beers here and there together.

I always thought he wanted more and more consistent. Yes there was flirting and probably some drunk kissing and one very drunk night.

All in all, I decided to focus my energy on FilmGuy. And if you’ve read this blog regularly, you all know how that turned out.

After the uber drunk night and my inner soul to focus on FilmGuy, English and I distanced ourselves from each other. I don’t think it was intentional it just happened. He gave me my space and probably space he needed.  Because if my intuition serves me right. He wanted more. We never discussed it. We never even talked about our relationship.

Then, he had to go back to England, to work a couple more years so he could eventually get his full pension, then return to Vancouver.

He left. And we barely found a moment for us to meet up for a beverage to say goodbye. But we did. We caught up on our lives and what we were doing, relationships and otherwise. But nonetheless, it was a weekday and it was short and sweet. And I thought Frenchie was a good thing to be dating.
And again…you know that was a bad idea as well.

English and I chatted on facebook and a few texts, nothing really deep or meaningful. Just pleasantries really as he has been getting settled in Kent.

Now to the point. The point is English has been in town visiting. He planned out everything to the minute as he was only here for ten days. But I didn’t know he was coming until two days prior. And basically he stopped by my place the night he got off the airplane with his friend, with whom he was staying. I too had a friend crashing on my couch. So there we were. Four of us and English and I staring at each other from across the small living room.

As it was 1:30am and the boys still had a 40 min drive home and my friend had basically started to fall asleep. The boys decided to head out. As the driver stood in the elevator hallway, English cornered me in my bedroom door frame, leaned in and kissed me. A little makeout session if you will.  Then he left.

I didn’t get a chance to see him again until this past Friday night. Late. Really late. He had been trying to figure out when to see me all week and he just decided to text me when the friends he was with were at his fav spot Friday night. Since I was mainstreaming white wine and home by 12:30 decidedly intoxicated, it only seemed natural to flag a cab and head across town to the spot to find him