Caught in a Life Triangle

How many times has broken telephone stepped in to complicate your life?  He said that she said that her sister’s mother’s friend’s babysitter’s cat saw you talking to your neighbour’s teacher’s principle’s daughter and heard that you said…..And then somehow gossip starts, accusations fly and you are caught in the middle of a crossfire of words.  Every innocent thing you said or open-minded thought you had gets twisted and you are meant to defend your opinion, or worse yet, defend your defense of a situation, conversation, or person.  I guess they say Defense is the best Offence. I don’t think they have a clue.

I try really hard to play devil’s advocate when I can.  Everybody has a side, a heart, a story and a point of view.  Every single situation needs a grain of salt to measure it.  Wouldn’t I love to be an ant on the wall when things went down in the first place – sure, but history, hurt feelings and ultimately egos get involved and suddenly you are caught in a triangle.  Whether with an old friend, an arch nemesis, a new romance, or a family member…when your name gets pulled into something, there is nowhere to run from the war of words.

Now, don’t even get me started on Love Triangles.  Most people have never successfully avoided them – no matter how minor.  Somebody’s boyfriend flirts with their friend, somebody lies, somebody hides, somebody cowers and somebody yearns. Without them we would’t have such wonderful films as Something Borrowed, My Best Friend’s Wedding, Made of Honor, Bridget Jones Diary...or an actual good movie, Legends of the Fall.  I seem to somehow be that girl that attracts boys in almost-dead relationships.  I don’t step outside of the lines once I’m aware of what’s going on, but either I have “she’s a friendly soul, bare your heart to her” or “good in bed” stamped on my forehead, because let me tell you… I attract em like flies.  And if I’m completely honest, I’ve had a friends’ ex or two come to me after the fact to say they always liked me and were too scared to admit it.  Thankfully I have the good sense to say no thank you kind sir, but often the mere fact that it came out causes a new and awful moral dilemma. To tell or not to tell?  And all these things? Frankly, make me feel sick.

I don’t like drama, I don’t like having to defend myself, my actions, or my beliefs and I definitely don’t like the awkward position that two people’s history can put other people in.  My advice?  Don’t be a devil’s advocate in a world full of individual lives – people look out for themselves and not all people like looking at all sides.  One side suits them just fine.  But, being too passionate about any one topic will see you get in almost as much trouble; maybe you just feel more passionate about that wall you are leaning on.  I guess the only way to avoid this is to avoid people, avoid feelings, avoid circumstance, avoid speaking and become a fingerless mute who can neither say, (nor text) anything that could ever get them in trouble. I’ll work on that because no matter who is right and who is wrong…there are usually shades of grey somewhere in there between those solid colours of black and white.

The funny part of this is while I’m writing this post; I’m watching the all-time classic movie Grease and sitting riveted as all those triangles unfold.  If only Danny admitted to the guys he cared about the girl and didn’t “summer love” her on the beach…all would have been fine.  He wouldn’t act non-nonchalant in front of her at the bonfire, she wouldn’t date the dumb jock, he wouldn’t join the track team, Cha Cha wouldn’t be a problem and don’t even get me started on Kenickie and Rizzo.  But, then again…had all these triangles and misinterpreted events NOT occurred, there would be no plot.  No Summer Lovin, no scenes under the stars, we wouldn’t learn the hand jive and we definitely would never get the dictionary updated with “shoo bop shoo wada wada yippity boom da boom”.

So.  Did I just teach myself a lesson?  Each time life hands you lemons, grab the tequila, because goddammit, alcohol helps you through drama. Oops, wait, that’s another lesson.

There is no avoidance of being involved from time to time in petty misunderstandings and relationships woes.  Want to know why?  Because then you would be perfect.  And I don’t know about you my friend, but I’m only perfectly flawed.

Gossip is the Devil’s Radio – George Harrison

The Ginga Ninja

Why Should You Never Iron a 4-Leaf Clover?

1. 

Because you don’t want to press your luck!

Do you actually have to be Irish to get away with Irish Cream in your coffee?  God I hope not.

Either way, I’m an 1/8 Irish….so I like to think at a minimum, I can pull off Baileys in my coffee without a second dubious glance.  This of course only works when I don’t constantly announce how much I enjoy Baileys in my coffee, or try to use my ginger hair as proof I’m Irish and only if I can refrain from doing it daily.  But, who wants to refrain from doing it daily?

Once again I want to say I’m kidding.  And I can say I am….with a little uncertainty. Maybe I’m just kidding myself.

At Christmas and at cottages, I do get a bit carried away.  Baileys (or my poor girl’s version of it….Carolans, Panama Jack…you get the picture) tastes delicious in coffee, with milk, or just on the rocks. So, trying to refrain for financial, bodily and let’s face it…social stigma reasons do exist.  However, I did have an old co-worker, a creative type, an “Ad man” persay….who kept a bottle in his drawer and pulled it out shamelessly, proudly and in no way, shape or form was he (or did he pretend to be) Irish.  Italian if I remember correctly.

So, this is to my old friend Keith.  Keep drinking that Irish Cream buddy and I’ll raise a toast to you every day, especially St. Patrick’s Day.

The Ginga Ninja

If my feelings were Grapes, they’d probably make a good wine

Is it okay to have a crush?  After a long and meaningful relationship or two, when is it okay to stop isolating, start looking and literally crush on somebody?  Crush like a kid, crush like you haven’t crushed in years. C’mon, even crushes can hurt – otherwise, why would they be called CRUSHES?

But, when do I start keeping an eye open just for me?  Not waiting to date because I’m scared, not rejecting everyone because I’m busy, not waiting because I have baggage, or am afraid of what others think, or don’t want to be like all those other people who just find the wrong “one” again, too soon.  That’s not to say it may not be the wrong one again either way, but when has enough time passed that I can have an honest to goodness crush?

Well, I don’t have that answer.  Three weeks probably isn’t long enough, but three years is far too long.  Either way, I’m intrigued by the intrigue that I feel and I think…so for now I’m not going to overthink it and just feel it.

Life is one fool thing after another whereas love is two fool things after each other – Oscar Wilde

The Ginga Ninja

Twas a Modern Day Christmas?

Twas three days past Christmas and all through the flat, many creatures were stirring, even my cat. There were no stockings hung by the chimney with care because there is not really a chimney, only a gas fireplace there!

Adults were nestled all snug in their beds, with visions of cleanup and New Years in their heads.  But mama in her scrap room and I, with my blog, were not ready for bed and poured some more nog.

With Magic Mike in the background and my cat at my feet I contemplated my diet and what not to eat. The New Year is a challenge, we all know it’s true. But, my 5 Christmas pounds demanded something to do.

The moon on the breast of the new fallen snow made me fear that my neighbours car soon would need tow. When what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a text from my friend about her holding a beer.

With an impish friend so lively and crazy, I feared tomorrow morning I would be quite hazy. A rapid typist, her liquor types came, by text she enticed and listed by name.

Now Vodka! Now Jager! Now Molson and Miller!

On Red Wine! On Coolers! Come visit my Chiller!

To the top of the street, to the top of the block! Come party at my place, it’s only a walk!

Looking at the clock and my PJ cladden self, I contemplated, debated and questioned my health. I knew self and health didn’t really rhyme, but thought “Nah forget it, who has the time?”

And then in a twinkling, I wondered “Should I go? You only live once and my health is so-so.”  Then typing too fast I hit the wrong key, and somehow in Spanish my ? became É.

If Santa were real, would he encourage me to drink? Would God punish me and Buddha cause me to think? Is there a time too late or an age too old, or is age only a number and life is meant to be bold?

My eyes how they twinkled, my thoughts how merry! As I imagined the taste of a maraschino cherry.  My droll little mouth drew up like a bow when I pictured a beer as cold as the snow. I knew it would hurt my newly dentised teeth, but the thoughts they encircled my head like a wreath. Despite my broken-out face and my currently round little belly, alcohol was calling me now instead of my telly.

I feel quite chubby and plump, but whats a drink more? And I laughed at my circumstance; god life is a chore.  A memory, a giggle and a shake of my head, soon gave me to know I had nothing to dread.

I spoke not a word, but went straight to my work, fixing my makeup and hair like a jerk. And putting some cover on the tip of my nose, my esteem started rising and my spirits they rose.

I sprang into action and got my butt out of the door, only to realize my feet were still glued to the floor. It was only a dream…I had slumbered upright…Merry Christmas to all and to All a Good Night!

The Ginga Ninja

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Red Red Wine….You Make Me Feel So Good…

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Depends on your definition of “problem”…

So, I think I’m developing a drinking problem.  Well, I guess the real problem is that my brother made this suggestion. If it were secret it wouldn’t be a problem, just a secret.  I must admit I didn’t deny, simply agreed and added the words  “right now”.  Is it a problem if you are enjoying it and it makes all TV a little funnier, all songs a little more meaningful, and all food taste a little better?  I like to think of it as life improver in a bottle.

The problem maybe is the financial aspect…or the potential of weight gain. But, c’mon….they say that a glass of wine a night is good for the heart.  I think the key is to verify the size of that glass.  For any Cougar Town lovers, I’m giving a call out to Big Joe (RIP) and his successor, Big Carl.  The other issue is probably to ensure that when you go for that second glass you don’t convince yourself that the first was only a half.  Guilty.

But, seriously folks, a glass (maybe) two is fine a night…or every other night…it’s probably more than our siblings, or neighbours, or friends openly admit to drinking, but as a single person what am I really worried about?  My brother eats buckets of chicken, tomato tomato.  Wow, that is not the same in copy as it is in speech.  To clarify.  “TOE-MATE-TOE”, “TOM-A-TOE”.  Probably not any better.

What I CAN say is that my internet friend here, Quintas may be overdoing it.  His question: “Is a bottle of wine per night gonna destroy my liver?”  My favourite answer may simply be, “Well, you may be an alcoholic, but you’ve got class my friend”.

Soak it in….well, you may be an alcoholic, but you’ve got class.  You’ve….got…class.

The Ginga Ninja