Do you have a type?


92aa65d3dcf2d56f04095a68641c0ac2I’ve heard over and over again that I most definitely have a type. I think they look different, act different, talk different and interests vary, but from an outsiders point of view I have a very specific type. Brunette, 5’10 – 6’1, generally somewhat athletic, somewhat musical and open to new things. The problem with this little makeup is that everybody around me sees the same guy over and over, yet I can tell you exactly how they differ down to their neer-be-mentioneds.

Some are stronger communicators. Some are handier. Some are estranged from their families. Some are mamma’s boys. Some have daddy issues. Some have depression. Some have god complexes. Some are happy all the time. Some like biographies. Some like video games. Some excel at volleyball. Some dig baseball. Some like reggae, whereas others like hardcore rap, hell, one only knows songs because they are punk covers. None read enough, most mope about the things they don’t have, and all like to drink. So, you see, I see many different guys and even though I keep tweaking that recipe over and over, I just haven’t perfected it.

I never expected this whole dating in your 30’s, deciphering texts, reading between the lines, juggling competition to Royalportable_redbe my life. This can’t be my life, it’s a funny storyline in a hilarious television show, but sadly, it isn’t, it’s actually my life. And hers, and his, and a million other friends I have. We just don’t seem to have the ability to land those keepers that actually make sense. But, I guess I’ll keep trialling out new contestants, because what other choice do I have? Well, I guess, trialling out cats.

A funny scene in a show I recently discovered pointed out how there was something remarkably wrong about every person that this girl ever dated and I can’t help but feel like there is some truth in it. The differences, rights and wrongs I find are in the people I actually date, this does not even fringe upon the people I have talked to or entertained a “meet with”. There are many kinds of people out there, but more importantly there are many kinds of the wrong people out there. The key is to never settle and find the one kind of wrong that’s right for you. I think somebody must have changed my lock.

What’s this guy’s problem? The last one was Racist Dave, before him was Ambiguous Andrew and Micropenis Paul. Ya, it’s a war out there! So, what’s this guy’s deal, does he smell like a cat, does he have a cat, is he a cat?                                                                                                                                                                                        – Frankie & Grace

Now if only we could find out what they all say about me….

The Ginga Ninja

The Moody Mind


I think I am in a writing mood, nay, I am in a writing mood.11429225895_5b5a1f76d4_m

I haven’t been in one in a long time, or maybe more appropriately I’ve been putting my time elsewhere. With spring and summer come social events, the desire to be out and about – 9 o’clock seems early and sleep unnecessary.

Give me fall and winter and what you have on your hands is a bit of a hermit. Some nights I’m bummy and wishing for some fake life or love that doesn’t exist and some nights I want nothing more than to rush home to my fireplace, television, new pillows (mooorreee new pillows, I truly think I have a problem) and get lost in a movie, crockpot, new television show, or a painting. Fall and winter turn me into an ever-elusive introvert and funnily enough cause me to be more tired than ever.

Now I’m an educated soul. I’m sure it’s my hideaway nature and lack of exercise that’s making me more tired. The less you do, the less you want to do. It’s a vicious little chicken and egg cycle. We are too tired to get out (and let’s be honest, I already work full time +), but the less we get out, the more tired we become! What a conundrum….#firstworldproblem if there ever was one.

showimageBut, there are days, and I know I’m not alone; I can’t put my finger on the problem. It’s not life altering, it’s not life-changing, but I’m in a mood. A pensive, lonely, frustrated mood…like you aren’t getting all you should out of life, and yet, that is life. Nobody is ever really alone and the internet just proves it. In the past couple of weeks I can’t tell you the amount of people who have mentioned they are feeling down, stressed, tired, sick, frustrated, annoyed at dating…it’s universal, or perhaps universal when you live in a country with very distinct cold weather patterns. There is a reason that suicide rates are higher in cold countries. No joke.

So, I guess I need to decide whether stressing out about my dirty apartment and unfinished painting is the right way to go, or hitting the gym, hitting the bar and maybe hitting on a boy is the better avenue (I kid, I kid…I would be out for my friends, wink wink). The sad part is, as I sit here and type this, the fact that I can type this or even have a choice in these decisions shows how fortunate my miniscule little life really is.

So on that note, I guess as long as you have a choice you have a life, whether that be hiding away in your loft like a troll or getting dolled up like a princess, there is usually tomorrow and only when there is no tomorrow do your choices cease to exist. So, you make the call…how do you want to spend today?

Every man builds his world in his own image. He has the power to choose, but no power to escape the necessity of choice. – Ayn Rand

The Ginga Ninja

This is my Journey, This is My Song…

Standard now and again amongst all the family functions, friends, social media updates, weather changes, mundane cleaning, laundry, garbage and the inevitable mandatories of life…somewhere in all of that is me. I know that I am not the most important, or correction even an important person in the scheme of the world, but I’m me and I’m all I got. All these feelings, emotions, up days, down days, flirtations, feelings of inadequacy, feelings of pride…they seem to have nowhere to go. There are days where I know my trials, inner workings, needs and wants are no more important than anybody else’s and really my story is not one that the world needs to know to be a better place.

Yet, I have….feelings. Feelings about being happy in the moment, sadness at times, uneasiness, uncertainty, confusion…and I constantly try to shut these down. I try to bury all the bad and decide they are simply moments and they don’t make my overall, but I think, as human as we are, we need to relish in them too. Sure, I’m not that special, but do I have the right to confusion or controversy, the right to wallow in self-pity or get pissed off because I don’t understand an outcome? Sure do. Maybe I feel things a little too deep or think things a little too much, but that’s just me. Maybe I try to predict the outcome long before the tale has been told and maybe I need to organize things into rational boxes in order to stay a rational person, but reality is, right or wrong I’m not you and you aren’t me. And emotions aren’t rational.

As I get older I have learned that acceptance of your good and bad traits is necessary for survival. Nobody is perfect 17602003-Sympathy-Word-Cloud-Concept-in-Red-Caps-with-great-terms-such-as-sorrow-feelings-loss-support-prayer-Stock-Photoand the more we strive to be so, the more we let everyone (including ourselves) down. And here’s the scary truth, we aren’t letting anybody down. This is a common misconception placed on us as kids – be good, be helpful, be honest, be hardworking, be all you can be…but really, be who you can live with. And more importantly, realize that you will have good days and bad. Moments where you write to clear your head, moments where you sing to clear your lungs and moments where you cry to clear your soul.

A new favourite song of mine is “The Long Haul” by Sean Rowe. It honestly brings me to tears everytime I hear it. At first I felt a bit of shame in my unleashed emotions, but now I think I’m starting to think it’s gonna be okay. If you have a song, a movie, a person or a memory that can bring you to your knees – go ahead and kneel down, what’s a scrape or two if it makes you stronger?

And I never hit the Spring so hard
A new born song on an old guitar
And I know what it means to be alive

You drive me crazy in all kinds of ways
Love kicked my head and took down my name
Oh, what happened?

I feel so light and I move like a bird
Hard as a rose sharp as a word
Oh, I’m happy

When I die
Where I go I don’t know
Through the sky maybe down low
Whichever is for real

Ginga Ninja

Cyclical Life…


Hmmm. The wheels in this head have been turning (a dangerous pastime I know). God, I hope somebody out therethe_red_bicycle picked up the Beauty & the Beast reference. Anyway, it’s kind of strange how many things in life are cyclical in nature – the seasons, our social lives, aging, and well…sadly, breakups too.

It’s always been amazing to me how I can feel soooo strange when the seasons change, kind of like a stranger in my own surroundings. I always feel like something is incomplete, something is still coming and there is something whistful and bittersweet about another year that comes and goes, ebbs and flows. BUT, I realize (in reminiscing by reading my old creepy journals), I feel like this every single year. Oh damn, so not even original in my very own life.

I need to remind myself that this weird, thoughtful, almost unexplainable feeling…has happened before and it will happen again. And for anybody joining this conversation late, I just defined the meaning of cyclical.

And ya know what? Feeling the passing of the seasons over and over again isn’t the only thing that reoccurs. I have clued in to the fact that when you are a child you have organization, rules and timelines. You wake up early, go to school, do your homework, go to bed. Life can be fun, but super routine.

As you get older and you start to make friends, you go to their houses, watch movies, get takeout and eventually start throwing raging house parties (or at least pretend to unless you are blessed to be a popular kid). A few years later you try out pubs, bars, expensive restaurants, musicals, brunches and even trendy clubs. Now you know you have made it…THIS is the cool version of life you couldn’t wait to fast-forward to when you bored and sitting in your parents’ basement. Finally kid, you can say you made it.

However….a few years go by and you begin to watch your debt grow as you accumulate assets and realize that you appreciate your friends more than strangers, some good music more than a cramped bar and hanging around in your sweatpa blue jeans more than stilettos. You can afford nice groceries and have learned to cook, preserve, bottle, marinate, ferment, so what surfaces once again? Movies, pre-drinking and houseparties: The Sequel.

Sadly enough, many may even bypass this version of life and go straight to married with a mortgage and (gasp), children. These people then return right back to waking up early, going to work, helping your kids with their homework, and going to bed….

So, this thoughtful red lass can’t help but notice, for all of those out there constantly trying to reach that next goal, benchmark, stone, phase, manic breakdown…remember…well, everything that goes will come again and every feeling you overcome will be back. There is no such thing as perfect and there is no such thing as complete, so I’ll leave you with this deep thought:

Man appears for a little while to laugh and weep, to work and play, and then to go to make room for those who shall follow him in the never-ending cycle. – Aiden Wilson Tozer

….And this funny one:

The most unfair thing about life is the way it ends. I mean, life is tough. It takes up a lot of your time. What do you get at the end of it? A Death! What’s that, a bonus? I think the life cycle is all backwards. You should die first; get it out of the way. Then you live in an old age home. You get kicked out when you’re too young, you get a gold watch, you go to work. You work forty years until you’re young enough to enjoy your retirement. You do drugs, alcohol, you party, you get ready for high school. You go to grade school, you become a kid, you play, you have no responsibilities, you become a little baby, you go back into the womb, you spend your last nine months floating…and you finish off as an orgasm.” – George Carlin

That’s the thing about this bicycle we call life; it’s not that easy to get off.

The Ginga Ninja


One Step Forward


87ef4bb5285651aac583cf360568816fThe other day I was feeling intense panic. Panic, anxiousness, nervousness, stress…whatever word you want to put to it, but the reality is that I was prepping for a big weekend of hosting and starting to run out of hours in the day. The need to go to the pet store, liquor store, grocery store and Asian veggie vendor was suddenly intensely, ridiculously, unnecessarily necessary and the seconds were ticking down on that old mental clock of mine.

The thing is, I realized that a lot of this was pressure I put on myself. When family visits does your place need to be perfect? And by whose standards is perfect measured?

This little scaredy-cat approach was handed to me by my social anxiety momma. Her heart is in the right place, but maybe not always her head. The need to do every little last thing humanly possible before guests arrive seems to be one that I was inherently taught and inherently think is a real thing.  Truly, they are there for you, not your food, not your clean sheets, not your vacuumed rug or newly trimmed cat. It’s nice to be cleanly, but it’s cleaner to be nice…at least for your brain. (Sure, let’s pretend that one was witty).

I decided in that moment, the intensely asthmatic moment… as I was getting into my car after my final errand, knowing that I may leave myself short on time and scrambling amuck… that I was going to take a step back, lock the car, cross the street and go to a yard sale. A plain, simple, off-the-beaten-path yard sale was enough to bring me back to my youth, to a simpler time, a time where I bought things used, bought them cheap, relished in haggling off 50 cents and simply enjoyed the moment, the weather and the promise of the future. While there, I met a la75489809dy who realized I was having an off day and what she said to me was “one step forward” little girl. There are no steps back.

That’s an interesting take on things. Maybe it isn’t two steps forward and one back, just smaller steps forward. What if there were no such thing as steps back? Would it change your outlook on the world? Either way, it sent me away with a sweet little message, a reassurance that nobody is alone, that we keep trying and no matter what, you need to keep walking ahead…no matter how detoured, shaky or limping that walk may be….

The Ginga Ninja

Head vs Heart


I was told to brain dump.

4play-Heart-vs-Mind2What is a brain dump you ask? Well, I guess it’s like the other kind of dump…but getting stuff out of your mind instead of your bowels. I’ve always wondered how important words are. Sometimes I find that they are incredibly powerful, other times I feel like they are so meaningless. I think the reason why so many love songs exist is because somebody out there really needed to brain dump. We want to say a million and one things to a particular someone, but pride, fear, days gone by, uncertainty and a million other somethings prevent us from doing so.

Sometimes we do tell them everything we are thinking and get painted as crazy or dramatic. Sometimes we spill our guts and come away with an outcome that is worse than the original scenario. Over the years, talking hasn’t been my problem until it comes to feelings. For some reason, I’m afraid to lose face and I’m afraid to admit feelings so I put up my walls, make my definitive statements and always decide that fate, time or common sense will prevail. Why am I so afraid to discuss what I do or don’t want with somebody?  What’s the worst that happens…you lose them? If you can lose them that easily, well you never really had them. I seem constantly afraid to lose something I didn’t have to begin with.

The mind is a funny thing and we often refer to our heart as full, fragile, broken, bruised… but the head and the heart are the same thing really. It’s all in the mind. It’s chemicals, racing blood streams, pounding veins and fight or flight responses that create a feeling of wanting, longing, yearning and the unknown. More so, well, add to that the memory bank that the mind stores… and we are all fucked.

I think the reason why we have broken hearts and heartache is that the physical repercussions of pain and fear is similar to that of the fight or flight response. Increased heart rate, fixated thoughts, jitters, shakes, anxiousness and an overwhelming surge of adrenaline…and often with this can come shortness of breath, heart palpitations, sore lungs and even asthma attacks. So, it’s not really the heart breaking, but it sure can feel like it.

Either way, head or heart, crazy or sane…it’s probably always best to say what you mean and mean what you say, otherwise you wind up the author of a blog. Kidding. You wind up the author of an awesome blog.

So, my friend. If you have a problem, whatever that problem may be, dump away. There is nothing more therapeutic than just writing down what you are feeling no matter how crazy or irrational it may be. Well, maybe putting it into lyrics or singing away at the top of your lungs, but that bottle of gin, shotgun or bridge may not look as bright and shiny in the morning.

Don’t follow your head, for it has no heart; don’t follow your, heart for it has no logic; follow your soul, for it has both. – Nishan Panwar

The Ginga Ninja

Needy or Not, it’s what you Need



What is needy?

There are people out there who are introverts. Straight up, simple and true, introverts. They don’t need others, they don’t need validation, they don’t need understanding, they don’t need connection. Hate to admit it, I ain’t one of em. I need people every now and again and I need validation more than I would like.

As I say this, there were always loners, hermits, the town loon (whatever term floats your boat), however they were often left to be on the far side of the ravine to chop their wood, smoke their pipes and read their books in peace. Sure, maybe a whisper, a point or two and a bag of flaming dog crap landed on their door, but the comparisons, competitions, challenges and frankly resources weren’t there. Nowadays, our introverts get labeled another way. We have bigger towns, more insight, virtual lives, Candy Crush, Clash of Clans, Netflix, Shomi and PVR coming out the ass. Alone we are never really alone, are we?

I have discovered I’m a happy little medium of introvert and extrovert, landed somewhere between needing nights in to watch silly movies, take baths and listen to music…as much as wanting to go out and drink, gab, gossip and gape. There has to be a middle ground in there somewhere. Moderate is my middle name.

The thing is, when I’m alone, I’m almost never really alone. I have my computer, my newstream, my newfound instragram followers and most importantly my phone nearby. The nights I have no contact it feels like an eternity and the nights that I don’t feel love, a lifetime.

It’s funny, if a lonely girl wants to hear from you, it’s needy, but if a boy expresses jealousy, inquiry, insecurity or neediness…it’s oddly endearing. Deep down isn’t that what every girl wants? I have had drunk texts, dick pics, people who wouldn’t stop messaging to take a nap and somebody who once an hour needed confirmation that I indeed loved him and he was what I wanted, he was my future. You know what, all of these people, these people who incessantly texted, brought up the future too early, brought up sex too often, all these people who could overwhelm or even jeezes, scare me…filed me at one point or another in the insecure girl category because I asked for an explanation.

An apology, a conversation, a confirmation, an acknowledgement, the desire to say goodnight, an attempt to wake them…these things eventually put girls into the needy, crazy, clingy or desperate category. The unfair part is most girls I know have done nothing anywhere near as out there as guys I know – no hail mary angry emails, no justified need to know what really happened phone calls, no fists through walls, no storming in jealous after the cable guy stayed a little too long rants…but yet, every misstep, every unanswered text, every rejected advance, every notch in their belt seems like one more little strike against their unmarred character and judgement. If a girl shows emotion, better get the valium. A guy, better mark the history books.

The thing is, everybody can be needy and everybody can be insecure, it’s just a matter of understanding that deep down, waayyy deep down…you can do anything you want to because frankly, needy or not, it’s what you need.

The Ginga Ninja