So anyway. It’s Thanksgiving, and I have a lot to be thankful for, so I’m going to go over it.

The funny thing is, I can’t help but cringe a bit when I read last years Thanksgiving post, what with the “hey, my boyfriend is awesome!” thing was followed up a mere two weeks later with “oh hey look, I got dumped”. Ok, so less awesome than anticipated, but I imagine this is some sort of learning process.

Last Thanksgiving was also the day that my mother got really sick — well, after I wrote the blog post about it, that is. For those playing at home, Mom’s last round of chemo two days prior to Thanksgiving was the likely culprit of an intestinal blockage that landed her in the hospital for weeks, required 6 feet of intestine to be removed, and scared the bleeding jesus out of all of us. And worse, she didn’t get to enjoy ANY of the Thanksgiving dinner. Good god, cancer, intestinal blockages, hospital stays, and NO TURKEY? So unfair.

Anyway, good news — we had Thanksgiving dinner last night with my parents, and Mom was able to enjoy it greatly. As were the rest of us. I even contributed more than “peel those potatoes and set the table” (I did also peel the potatoes and set the table.) Lately, I’ve had some minor culinary successes that I am quite proud of. So, I also contributed homemade cranberry sauce, cranberry chutney, apple butter (for the ham), and half of the dessert, which was utterly delicious pumpkin cheesecake squares. Dan supplied the other half of dessert, pumpkin creme brulee. I am a fan of any dish that requires a blow torch.

Things I am thankful for include:

- The fact that my mom is healthy. Hell, the fact that my mother is alive. The alternative is about the most terrifying thing I can think of. I’m not done with her yet. I don’t think I ever will be.

- The fact that I am infinitely stronger than I realized. Last October was the hardest month of my life. I started a new job, which was great, but still stressful. My mother was extremely sick. The man I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with dumped me rather harshly. I mean, in the end, that turned out to be a good thing, but I certainly didn’t see it that way last October. And as a result of that, I had to move out of an apartment I loved without a lot of warning. So yeah, a shitty month all around. But you know, a mere year later, I am doing so much better than I ever could have imagined. I honestly thought I was going to be an utter mess for at LEAST a year, but fuck that noise. I’m better than that.

- And you know what? I’m even thankful for my ex and for getting dumped and for going through utter hell for months (ok, maybe not so much for the hell, but you get the idea.) If it wasn’t for Nick, I wouldn’t be the person I am today, and that person is awesome. I’m pretty sure I can handle pretty much anything and come out of it even better than before. And if it wasn’t for that, I wouldn’t have…

- My amazing boyfriend. I had no idea it could be this easy and this amazing and this awesome and this wonderful. I’m so frigging happy with Dan that there’s no way I can put it into words, especially not without making people roll their eyes in disgust. Thanks, sweetie. I love you.

- My fantastic apartment. We’ve only been here a few months, but holy crap this place is great. I HAVE A CRAFT ROOM. Yay me! (Man, if you told me that I’d be this stoked about a craft room ten years ago… but making things is awesome.) One of these days, my bizarre schedule might even allow me to throw a housewarming party. On a night people can actually make it.

- My pets. Justice continues to impress and amaze me every day. People who have known her for a long time credit me for how much of a better dog she is than she used to be, but honestly? She deserves more of the credit. Yeah, I helped, but she’s just such a good dog and she tries to damn hard, I can’t help but be utterly crazy about my adorable dog. And not to be outdone: I’m rather fond of that gray fuzzy thing that is getting brave enough to venture into the rest of the dog-dominated apartment.

- My job. Yay job!

- Making things. Making things is awesome. Goes with the craft room thing, but there is very little that makes me happier than being creative and creating actual tangible STUFF that other people are also stoked about. My latest creative joy is stained glass, and I have so many plans for projects. So many!

All in all? Life is pretty damn good. And even better is that I still have a bunch of those pumpkin cheesecake squares in the fridge. Can you say lunch? Hell yeah.

And yet, sometimes it’s fun to write long rambly paragraphs, and so I figure I’ll give that a try now.

As I alluded to in Rambly Paragraph #1, I updated my relationship status this week. Please forgive me if the rest of this post is a little silly and vomit-inducingly cute, but I’m ridiculously pleased and life is awesome and there are birds and sunshine and unicorns and the cherry blossoms are blossoming, so really, what options do I have?

So sometime in February, I decided that I had healed enough from the Nick thing that I was ready to at least test the waters in the dating department, as evidenced by the post in which I wrote about how I was ready to test the waters in the dating department. And so I did. Met some pretty awesome people, but nothing was clicking. Managed to pick up a few new friends with a penchant for Adventure! in the process, but not really what I was looking for. Well, not that Adventure! is ever a bad thing, and quite frankly the process wasn’t nearly as painful as I was expecting. Between museums and art galleries and musicals and great dinners, I had a pretty good time.

And yet… no zing. Now I fully admit, I’m pretty inexperienced with “normal” dating. I spent my twenties avoiding commitment as much as possible, and generally keeping a nice collection of wonderful friends-with-benefits with whom I had little interest romantically. Nick was… well, Nick was a fluke who wasn’t supposed to be anything more than a fling, but I kinda fell for him like a sack of bricks. There was “zing”. But that’s all been talked about enough. I think maybe I’m maturing. Says the girl who uses a towel with a shark hood.

So, new dating. It was fun and a little scary and I’m sure I made many rookie mistakes, but as much fun as I was having, there wasn’t the “zing” that I’d experienced with Nick, and I kind of wanted that too. Friends are great, friends are amazing… but I wanted zing. Had some minor Sad about it pre-Dan, because… shit. Some of these people were fantastic and on the surface, should have been ridiculously compatible with me. But I just wasn’t feeling it. Thought perhaps I wasn’t as past Nick as I thought, because shouldn’t there be a little zing? Yeah, I know, I might have been expecting too much too fast, but I’m all about instant gratification. I AM DATING NOW PLEASE TO BE BRINGING THE ZING. Why no zing? WHERE THE FUCK IS MY ZING?

Enter Dan. So I’ve actually known Dan since … November or so? We met via Twitter, but he had a girlfriend, and people who have girlfriends don’t hit my radar at all. (Case in Point: I met Nick when he was still with his ex, and had zero interest in him until he mentioned that they’d broken up.) Those with significant others are simply inert beings who are potential friends, nothing more. Such was the case with Dan, and we went for coffee/breakfast a few times, had very amusing conversation, and went on a few fun wanders around our neighbourhood (he lives about 4 blocks from me.)

So… it turns out that he & his girlfriend split a couple of months ago (which I didn’t know until a couple of weeks ago). And my radar kicked in and went “Hmm. Interesting.” Still, I try not to swoop in on people the second they’re single (although he’d been single for over a month anyway, he just hadn’t actually mentioned it.) I’m not nearly that tacky. I was vaguely offended when people did that to me, so … yeah, am not a vulture.

But… enter twitter, some fun flirting, and some reconsidering of the aforementioned friend thing. We hung out a few more times, and … well, shit. He’s pretty fucking fascinating. He’s clever, and witty, and smart, and ridiculously cute, and I can’t sit here and think of ways to describe him without grinning like a fool. Zing? Yes, zing. Lots and lots of zing. Zing is fun!

So. Things are moving … well, rather lightspeed fast. I don’t generally go from “Hmm, I have an interest in you” to “relationship” in, uh, four days. But whatever, it feels pretty good. I am cautiously optimistic and only slightly terrified. He’s awesome. Don’t tell anybody, but I’m kinda falling for him.

So there’s where I’m at. Bring on the birds and sunshine and unicorns and cherry blossoms, bitches.

The result of this is that I am 31, and I haven’t the slightest idea how to date.

So last week, I decided to start dating again. Like, real dating, with intent of narrowing it down to someone awesome, as opposed to the casual hookups I have been seeking thus far. It turns out, unlike mid-20s Donna, I actually do want a relationship. Weird, right? Yeah, well, I want kids too — quite frankly, I haven’t the slightest idea who I am anymore. On the upside, I do like me as I am now, so that’s fine. On the downside, it means that I am severely lacking in experience in how to do this, and quite frankly, the idea of the whole thing is incredibly distasteful. I would very much like to skip the whole process. Whatdya mean it doesn’t work like that?

Anyhoo, so I’ve started seeing a few people to sort of test out the waters. Amazingly, thus far? I’m having a good time. I have the sneaking suspicion that I’m over thinking things a bit and need to just relax and have fun, but I am still a wee bit gunshy from the last round of “ow, my heart”. So I’m cutting myself a little slack for when I get a little neurotic.

Also, explaining large arm bruises that make you look like an abused wife to your date? Funny.

I think what I miss the most, aside from Nick himself, is the sense of companionship. The “us against the world” and the security of knowing that, no matter what, we’d be there for each other. Ok, so evidently that was a false sense, but I miss it just the same. I miss the everyday stuff, the hug at the end of a long day, the smile I’d get everytime I saw him, the snuggles for no other reason than because one of us wanted a snuggle. I miss waking up beside him and the way he’d have the blankets completely fucked up (i may have had a couple of grumpy mornings where i was forced — forced! — to steal them all back) and no less than four pillows arranged in some complicated design that he didn’t like sleeping without.

I miss telling him about my day, and listening to his. I miss the apologies for “going on” about something when I’ve told him a thousand times how much I love listening to him talk about something he’s passionate about. I miss his passion, the way he throws himself into a project totally single-mindedly, even if it meant he was ignoring me for it.

I miss not just the man I loved more than I thought possible, but my best friend, my favorite person to go on adventures with. I hate to admit it, but I’m so freaking lonely without him that it pisses me off. I have plenty of amazing friends and some pretty fantastic adventures, and spend half the time wishing Nick were there to share it with me.

I miss the casual comfort. I miss taking that for granted. I don’t think I ever took Nick for granted, because right up until the day we broke up, I marveled at how happy I was to have him. But I think I took it for granted that we’d always be together. And I sort of thought he felt the same way. Evidently we aren’t quite on the same page as I thought. Naive, perhaps, but the idea of not being with him was unfathomable.

I continue to not enjoy fathoming this.

But, I’m going to stop it, in public at least. The occasional bitter & bitchy comments that slip out aren’t helping. I’m not going to pretend everything is peachy keen, I don’t believe in faking it.

But that’s the last bit of public mourning I think I’m going to do. You’re welcome.

So, lots has changed since then. I’ve been in my new apartment for more than 2 months now. I’ve gotten quite settled into my job. I’ve made some ridiculously fun new friends. I’ve embarked on some fun adventures, both solo and with other people. I’ve taken lots of photos, loved my dog, and otherwise made efforts to get past this.

I still have bouts of being so frigging depressed I can’t eat without wanting to throw up — thank you body, for having such a classy reaction to stress. Certain events outside of my control have made this about a thousand times worse than it had to be, and quite frankly it was pretty bloody miserable to start with. I remain bitter, angry, frustrated, heartsick, and depressed.

Things sort of came to a head last week, and I’ve temporarily given up on my attempts to keep Nick as a close friend. I can’t handle it right now, and to be frank we’re going to sabotage any chance of staying friends if that keeps up. So, we’re putting that on hold and not communicating (beyond necessities — I’m still going to Ursulmas, but that was planned months ago and it’s important) for a few months. Yeah, I know, this is the advice everybody — including me — gave me right from the start. Doesn’t make it any less awful, unfortunately. I miss him so much it’s a near constant nagging ache.

But that’ll fade in time, and hopefully once I’m a bit less pathetic (seriously, getting this bent out of shape over some boy? Gah. Who AM I?) we can resume being friends, a little healthier and less painfully.

I’m pretty sure people are starting to get sick of my moping, and even if they aren’t, I’m getting sick of my moping.

So I’m putting an end date to the public moping, anyway. (Sorry, Close Friends, you may still occasionally get a dose of the “Everything is Terrible’s”.) January 24th’ll be three months, and I think that’s quite long enough to be acting like a sad sack. Things are Going To Get Better. I hope so, anyway, because so far things just seem to be getting worse and that’s just getting a little on the frustrating side. If anything, the distance will at least keep me from having to deal with MORE shit getting piled on top. That’s starting to get old.

I realized today that other than one attempt to make soap a couple of months ago, I haven’t made anything since I moved. I’ve had some fun adventures and have advanced my photography skills a wee bit, but I need to make stuff to really be happy. I love creating and crafting. I’m starting to realize I get a little stir crazy when I don’t have A Project.

So I’m off to the new Michael’s on Broadway to buy some materials for Making Stuff. I should have a craft day soon, anybody interested?

It’s the weekend! I don’t work until Monday, which is great for the “ok, I don’t have to expend that much energy on being sane” but at the same time, I’ve got two full days with no work to distract me from … not being sane. So, I’m trying to keep busy, but thus far all I’ve succeeded on doing today is putting off all the things I wanted to do. Hmm. Fail.

Anyway. For those keeping track, I’m aiming for next weekend to move out of here. I’m currently scheduled to have next Sunday/Monday/Tuesday off, so that seems like some good time to work on that. Anybody have any boxes? I have a lot of craft supplies to pack up…

Also, if anybody knows of any places for rent… say, 1 bedroom or studio, dog friendly, $800/m or less, walking distance to skytrain, and preferably with a private entrance… let me know.

If you haven’t been following along, Nick broke up with me on Sunday. I am not a fan of this move and am instead completely devastated. The timing is definitely pretty shitty (learning a brand new job, and my mother almost died last week), but in his defense he didn’t want to do it now. I may have learned the Very Hard Way not to push when someone doesn’t want to talk about something yet.

The why’s aren’t important to anyone other than us, so I won’t go into any great detail, but because this came out of left field not only for me, but for anybody who knows us: the gist is that Nick thinks he can find someone more suitable for him than I am, so … that’s that. (There’s no other woman yet, this is just theoretical on his part.) I disagree, because quite frankly, I thought we had a pretty damn good relationship and we’re pretty damn awesome together. There are a few problems sure, but nothing even remotely worth being a dealbreaker. I’m expecting a phone call when I’m about 70 saying “Sorry, honey, you were right.” And as much as I like being right… well, fuck that. I’m going to want my 40 years back.

So, I’m hurt, a lot. A little angry, but mostly just hurt. Devastated, really.

I don’t quite know how to explain it. I’m grieving, hard. This is the man I wanted to marry — it wasn’t that long ago that we discussed tenative timelines. We had planned on children — yes, I changed my mind on the childfree thing. To the point that I’ve actually spoken to my doctor about my fertility options, as I’m already fertility challenged. I was ecstatic at the idea of spending the rest of my life with him.

I’m a different person than I was when we got together. I’ve changed a LOT in the last two and a half years, and I was really happy with that. And a lot of my life revolves around Nick — which is the way I liked it. I don’t quite know who I am without Nick anymore. I just can’t picture it. I don’t want to.

I hate this feeling — I feel seriously pathetic. Seriously, am strong independant woman, do not need no silly man to be happy. And no, I don’t… eventually. For now, I’m extremely hurt and sad and feeling very, very rejected. My pride and self esteem are crushed into teeny tiny specks right now.

I once said, “love is giving someone absolute power to destroy you at the core… and trusting that they won’t.” Having that trust betrayed? I don’t quite know what that is, but I don’t like it and would like it to stop now please.

On the upside: My new job is going very, very well. There were two “make or break” tests that, if failed, meant you were removed from the training program. I can’t think of much more embarassing than having to tuck my tail between my legs and go back to my former employer to beg for my job back. Yeah, I’m pretty low on pride right now, but there’s still SOME left. Required scores on both tests was 70%. I got 97% on the first test and 99% on the second. Yeah, I think I’ll do.

I’d like to talk about my job a bit, but without publically naming the company I work for. However, if you’re local, it’ll probably be pretty clear what I’m talking about: I’m doing customer information for the local transit system. Believe it or not this is a company that HIGHLY values customer service (I mean you, local bus riders — some drivers suck, I know this, it’s the result of having thousands of them working largely unsupervised). Seriously, they are so much more dedicated to customer service than I ever realized, and my parents have worked for this company for 30 years.

Case in point: I’m working in a call centre, which you would think is a step down from my previous three job titles, but I’m paid considerably more, and am getting WAY more rigourous training than any job I’ve ever had, and that includes the one that involves operating heavy machinery. (If you knew how many lift operators at ski mountains were drunk or high on the job, you’d be a lot more careful getting on the chair… trust me.)

Also, I think this job was meant for me. Having grown up with the company and being a heavy transit user myself… I’m doing really great. I’m a fairly fast learner under the best of circumstances, and having a lot of pre-existing knowledge of the system (far more than I realized, even) and decent knowledge of geography of the area (except for Richmond and the TriCities, but even that has skyrocketed in the last 3 weeks) the training has so far been a breeze. And it’s not easy training — one of my fellow trainees dropped out in week one, and another failed the first test. We started with 8, so that’s a fairly high attrition rate.

Today, we started taking calls semi-unsupervised. We work in pairs, both plugged into the same phone, but one of us into the “mute” side, and one person actually talking to the customer. We get the details, put the caller on hold, pick the best answer together, and then return to the customer. It’s occasionally a bit nervewracking, but I am totally getting the hang of this. It’s not perfect, I’m still working on getting my delivery down (“At TIME, on STREET, going DIRECTION, take the NAME OF BUS to DESTINATION…”) but that’ll just take practice.

At the very least, I didn’t knowingly give any bad information today, although one bus was in an accident, and I did have to apologize to someone when the one behind him was running super late, making him late to a job interview. Thankfully, unlike the woman who called yesterday and threatened us with a naked protest at our offices when her bus didn’t show, he pragmatically decided to just take a cab.

I was actually quite upbeat at work today. I’m busy enough and having to concentrate enough that I don’t have time to be seriously depressed about the state of my life.

Which is good, because… what the fuck am I supposed to do now? I had a plan, damnit. I had goals, ideas, desires, and none of them are the same without Nick in the picture. Worse, I have to move, and damnit all, I hate moving.

I’m thinking of going and staying with my parents for a while. For one, my mother just got out of the hospital (today!) and they could probably use a hand around the house for a while. For another, it’s closer to my new job than I am here. For a third, I think it would be good for both dogs to spend some time together — Jasper needs to learn how to behave with other dogs, and Justice needs to scurry away from her big dumb cousin more. For a fourth, it’s bloody difficult to find a suitable place to rent when you have a “special needs” dog like mine — that was why I moved in with Nick to begin with. And for a fifth, the new job is casual with no guaranteed hours until I can get on as a regular employee. I was depending on Nick to carry me a bit in times when my hours were short, the payoff being that when I get on as regular I’m pretty much set.

Except… I don’t wanna. The idea of living anywhere else breaks my heart. I love being here. Even with the mice. (I think there was only one — after disposing of Mister Mouse last week, there have been no further signs of mouse activity. Thank god.) And the stupid hot water heater that has started acting up again. And the strata who hate my dog. I love waking up next to Nick every morning.

People have told me how lucky Nick is to have me. I just wish HE thought so, since his opinion is the one that matters most. Supposedly he thinks he can do better than this. I don’t know that I can. This was so close to perfect… I don’t see how anything could come close.

So… if I don’t seem real social for the next little while, that’s why. I’m not even bothering to finish making my Halloween costume, I’m not going to be anywhere near ready to go to any parties by this weekend. Too bad, it was super cute. I’ll probably finish making the skirt anyway. (Hmm, speaking of which, anybody want to buy a pair of ladybug stockings? Well, mabye I’ll use them next year.) And while I appreciate the offers of couches and spare rooms, I’ll pass. I’m fine here for now. I still love the big jerk and enjoy spending time with him, even if we have this little incompatibility about how we wanted to spend the rest of our lives. There’s no Angry (well, only a little Angry, and all on my side) just Hurt, and he’s my best friend. He’s who I go to when I’m hurt and angry, and I’m not ready to change that yet.

This is so hard. Every now and then, I get hit with a twinge of “This is something I’ll never get to do” or “oh, I won’t get to do this anymore.” Something as little as watching him walk across the room used to make me smile, cuz what a rockin’ body… and now it just makes me sad, cuz fucking hell, it’s not mine anymore.

Last week… I loved my life. I was with the man of my dreams, we had big plans for the future… my job was going great and was finally on track to be something great… my mom was still in the hospital, but was improving daily and was set to go home soon… everything was doing great. We went to Science World on the weekend, had a great time hanging out together…

and what a difference a day makes.

(Oh good, now I’m going to go listen to sad breakup music. Pink’s “Funhouse” album might be my mainstay for a while. I promise not to re-enact “Please Don’t Leave Me“. Much.)

But Nick has been a supremely awesome co-dog-parent with me for the last two years, and he deserves some props for that. There is no Puppy-Parent-Day, and so I’m co-opting Father’s Day a little.

As you can see, she clearly worships him.

And he’s pretty fond of her too.

Thanks, Nick. It means a lot to me how much you love our dog, even when she’s being an effing moron.

So, after getting out of the shower this morning, I ran upstairs to Nick (who was still sleeping) in my Shark Towel, climbed onto the bed and told him, “Shark Wakeup Service! The time is now… eight thirty.”

He tapped me on the nose and rolled over. Apparently I have a snooze button.

Justice makes an excellent pillow.