Monday, August 30, 2010

I'm Not Unfaithful, But I'll Stray

A few months back, after a particularly emotional night out, my friend Maggie and I had a discussion about cheating. She made a point that I had never really thought of before - she said that cheaters (for the sake of our discussion, men) always cheated down.

What's cheating down? Well, it means that the cheater tends to stray with those who are less attractive or less of a "catch" than the person they already have. They cheat with someone less desirable. Seems silly, right? Doesn't that kind of defeat the purpose?

You'd think so. But I thought about it. Remembered all the people I knew who cheated. And it's true. The majority of them cheated on their awesome partners with less-than-awesome people.

There's a lot of reasons for it, I think. Number one is probably that some people can't handle having an attractive, likeable, or even successful partner. It makes them feel like less, in comparison, so they seek someone who will make them feel better about themselves. Kinda like a "hero complex".

Sad, really.

We should all feel lucky when we're with someone great. Instead, a lot of people screw it up and "cheat down" or even "date down" with the next partner. Blind summabitches, y'are.

Along with that, for some damn reason, I keep getting into conversations about monogamy. Less and less folks believe it's possible to stay in a "happy", committed relationship with one person. I disagree, speaking only for myself.

So... you, my intelligent, good-looking and agreeable readers... What do you think about "cheating/dating down"? And do you believe in monogamy?

(Yeah, yeah... bitch got a little serious on ya today. Whoops.)

Friday, August 27, 2010

If I Left, You'd Never See Me Again. I Wouldn't Leave A Trace

Well, hell. We made it to Friday. How 'bout that?

This week's video blog is up, and features a little Jickety Jack White, David Bowie bulge, the art of climbin' in your windows and snatchin' your people up, Magic Dance-ing, sex shop workers, and making friends with the exes of exes who may not yet have exes to ex.

Now I just wanna go to the Ex. Exhibition, that is.

Tomorrow, I'm heading back to Toronto to see Tegan & Sara and crawl around the west end til Sunday.


Oh - and please note. The wonky eyes I have in each video? Yeah, they're caused by the large window I'm staring at in each of 'em. The light, she is blinding! I should probably stop doing that.

Note to self.

Wednesday, August 25, 2010

Much Too Blind To See The Damage He's Done, Sometimes A Man Must Awake To Find That Really He Has No One

As I've mentioned in the past, this Shambled Rambler has accounts on a couple of dating sites. I joined awhile back when I was feeling particularly lonely and down (read: self-loathing), even though I'm really not looking and have no trouble meeting people. I rarely ever check my messages unless, yet again, I'm feeling especially sad and alone. 

Boo-friggin'-hoo, right?

Well, the other night I decided to wade through all the bajillion messages to pass a bit of time. That's the problem - it takes TOO much time. I 100% believe that some guys on there will message every single female they see, because the amount of messages are astounding. And some of the messages themselves are astounding. (Honestly? Guys really think half of this stuff will garner results with a chick? Wow.)

So I deleted the creepy messages, read the really sweet messages, rolled my eyes at the annoyingly cocky messages, and then I came across this li'l gem:

"so i take it people come and go out of ur life often"

 I should've ignored it, but I'm sometimes stupidly defensive. So I bit.

"Excuse me? What exactly does that mean?" was my reply.

Didn't take this dude long to respond.

"because u tend to make strangers wanna b ur friend. so ur obviously confident and its plan to see ur very attractive and suductive which leds me to belive u lead guys on and then sound em packin no? dont get me wrong u cant judge a book by its cover. u did say u might come off as wierd that makes me think ur not a shallow person but whats quirky that mean hyper? or horny? or just kinda different?"


He's literally picking out parts of my profile and throwing them at me. Yes, it does say that I'm pretty quirky (true, no?). And I did say that I sometimes seem weird (So?). And I can't recall, but I probably made a wise-ass comment about making friends with strangers. So, great. This guy knows how to read (he just forgot how to spell, apparently).

My response:

"That was one of the weirdest messages I've ever received on here. And pretty damn insulting, too.
No, I don't lead guys on.
No, I'm not a shallow person.
And no...quirky does not mean hyper or horny.
Look up the definition before you throw uneducated judgements around and don't bother me, please."

This is why I am not a big fan of dating sites. I kinda just wanna debate 'em, or tell them to leave me the hell alone.

Cuz, y'know.

I'm "quirky" like that.

Monday, August 23, 2010

I Heard Your Heart Beating, You Were In The Darkness Too. So I Stayed In The Darkness With You.

If you've read my blog for awhile, you probably know that I never review or write about something unless I'd actually use it, am a fan of it, or think it's just darn awesome.

This here post would belong in the 3rd category.

Since my temporary move back to St. Catharines, I try to get back to Toronto as often as possible (the love is deep, dontchaknow). That means I've stayed in a bunch of hotels. Some ok ones, some pretty good ones, and some downright craptastic ones.

I stayed at the Pantages on Friday night, and it blew 'em all outta the water.

As soon as I got there, I had an appointment at the Shizen Spa for an amazing massage. I was a spa virgin, I admit it. I'm half surprised I didn't kiss the masseuse after.

See? I was so relaxed and noodle-like that there was a halo around me. That's a happy girl.

Since I liked the place a lot, I figured you guys might want to be there with me. So perhaps we should take a tour my of my suite...

My living room for the evening.


Too much to choose from. We know I'm no good at decision-making.

Hmm, what's in there?

Oh, you want me to show you the bedroom? Of course you do.

The desk where I failed to blog, email, or do much of anything from.

Crazy comfortable bed, facing second TV. Two TVs for one li'l chick.

Wanna take a nap with me? Excellent.

This is nice. I like naps.

If you're gonna snore like that while we're napping, get outta my bed. Now.

Quick check out the window...

Oh, hello Massey Hall! Nice to see ya.

Alright, tour's over.

You've now seen most of my awesome suite at the Pantages. If you go stay there, you should probably invite me. I didn't particularly want to leave. Neither did Jack (my dog), who I brought along for a visit.

As much as I'd like to blog about the rest of my Toronto weekend, I'm just too tired. And since I no longer have that awesome bed in the photos, I'll have to settle for my own.

Goodnight, freaks 'n geeks.

Thursday, August 19, 2010

We Go Blind When We've Needed To See, And This Leans On Me Like A Rootless Tree

I often have good intentions.

Take last Saturday for instance. We went to our usual bar, on the usual night... except we went early to see a few bands.

Your good friend Kris, with the aforementioned good intentions, thought "Alright. We'll go early. Take it easy. Head home before last call. Simple!"

...but y'know what they say about the best laid plans of mice, men, and this chick.

I have failed.

I shoulda known better.

Good intentions don't take these glorious photos of Ken.

And without all the bottles of 50, how could I have messed up this picture so badly and cut Leah out un-intenionally?

And if I had gone home early?

There would be no knowledge of Ken's awesome Smorkin' Labbit hat. I never could've tried it on.

Where's the fun in that?

Look at the beard. Ya think that beard has good intentions?

No sir. It does not.

And look! It seems to be a sausage party full of unhappy men on the patio...

....but when they see a camera, they are suddenly jovial and proud of their nipples. (Seriously. Look at 'em all clamoring to be on camera.)


Ah yes. That guy.

The first winner from Canadian Idol.

I took a posed-candid photo, cuz I told him my mom was a fan.

Turns out, she is not.

I didn't intend for this to be a picture post.

But frankly, we all know what happens with my intentions.


Tuesday, August 17, 2010

She's Filin' Her Nails While They're Draggin' The Lake

"Be patient."

That tiny little sentence is repeated to me more and more by different people every day.

"Be patient, Kris. It'll happen. Just wait."

I'm trying. But the waiting game can really get to a chick.

Almost 5 months and counting.

I spend my days job hunting. Doing random freelance work. More job hunting. Making contacts, getting my name out there. And maybe, just maybe, I apartment hunt for the fun of it. Gotta keep on top o' that Toronto market!

After that? All I can do is wait.... and wait some more.

My counsellor says the waiting will kill me - and at the end of the day I need to get out and distract myself.

Will do.

Who wants to help this moody girly get distracted?

She's gotten rather sick of herself. Internal conversation has become downright nasty.

Let's go make friends with strangers.

You in?

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Cuz If I'm The Man That You Love The Most, You Could Say "I Do" At Least

We're startin' off this Saturday with a few links:

- The fabulous & talented Shaun Proulx said some nice words about yours truly in a recent blog post - check it out here. Read daily and learn more about Laws of Attraction and how to make things happen in your life. He's proof positive that it works. (He's also Patrick's fiance. Hottest couple ever.)

- Love it or hate it, Twitter is a great way to market. Follow me if you give a crap about what albums I'm listening to throughout the day, and random non-sensical thoughts that pop up in my head. I'm still not sold, but I'm trying learn because great media & job contacts come from it.

- Lastly, I've had more than one person tell me I've been neglecting my Formspring thang. Je m'excuse, really. There's a few unanswered questions there that I promise to get to - but you can add more if you so choose.


Lately I've been finding myself in random debates about marriage. Debates in person, on online forums, etc, etc... I often have to defend myself for still hoping to one day get married. More and more, people are giving up on the notion of marriage because it doesn't have the same meaning it used to. Times, they sure have changed.

That's all fine 'n dandy, but I still look forward to it. And I don't see anything wrong with that.

Everyone has their own reasons for taking the plunge or deciding against it. Mine are pretty simple. I want a partner, and someone to love completely. I see marriage as a symbol of the bond, and the wedding itself as a celebration. (Y'know... "Yay! Two people actually found each other in this cess pool of dating! Let's drink and eat cake til we puke! Yay!").

I don't care about the ring. I don't need a huge wedding. I don't ever wish to become a Bridezilla (hell, I even loathe the term). For me, it's about the union itself. Being a wife. Having a husband. It won't be so unlike living common law, which I've done, but the symbolism of true partnership is there.

I dig that. Sue me! (And just cuz I romanticize everything in a girly way, doesn't mean I'll ever end up with "that" guy. Your Shambled Rambler could end up in Spinster City with ten cats and a Y&R addiction.)

So. Those are my thoughts. How 'bout you?

What do you think about marriage?

Let's fight!

Thursday, August 12, 2010

All Our Friends, They're Laughing At Us. All Of Those You Loved, You Mistrust

This week's video blog is about cartoons.

Yep. Animated awesomeness.

In it, we discuss Snoopy's drug addiction, Astroboy's favourite lube, short people who sell ergonomic chair parts on the black market, She-Ra, The Strokes, things that are purple, and Daisy's cartoon dog boyfriends.

Contain your excitement, please.

And so, for your viewing (dis)pleasure...

Tuesday, August 10, 2010

When You Hold Me In Your Arms, I'll Sing It Once Again

On Saturday night, I had a few of my friends over. As we sat outside with our beer, cigarettes, strange stories about necrophiliacs and generally amusing & witty banter, I realized that I no longer document my nights. I used to take too many pictures of friends/boyfriends/beers, put them on here and write an unrelated post around them.

But I don't anymore. And we all know how much I love to look back at old posts and remember old times... so why did I stop? Without pictures, my memories of this summer will mostly be negative. Sad. Depressing. Friggin' annoying in a self-loathing manner.

I don't want that.

Thank god for my Blackberry. I take very random, sporadic pictures with it. And so, without further ado, a partial glimpse into the sad collection of phone pics to document my months in Niagara (in order, no less):

That's better, since I've sufficiently bored the crap out of you.

Most of these have stories behind 'em (wouldn't YOU like to know?). And now I can remember grainy, pixelated good and bad times in the Spring/Summer of 2010.

Go team go.

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