baseball is back and so are baseball bros

after what felt like the longest winter ever, baseball is finally back and i'm pretty happy about that.

this year, i had the privilege of going to the first night of opening weekend at skydome for the jays vs yankees. with a sold out crowd of over 48,000 screaming fans, it was an experience, to say the least.

now, depending on how often you read my blog and how well you actually know me, let's get one things straight: i like sports, but i love baseball. i wouldn't say i hate hockey but i'll watch it and occasionally follow it if something that isn't the leafs piques my interest, especially if i land tickets for a game. i follow basketball and the raptors as much as i can and try to get to a game a season. but baseball? that's my game. i lose track of how many games i end up going to in a season and occasionally play in fantasy baseball pools. yes, i know baseball. and yes, i know that blurs the line of stereotypical gender roles, but i think i crossed that line 25 years ago.

most games, you'll see me there with my brother. we share the same passion for baseball and the same disgust for humanity when we go to games. baseball bros. baseball bros everywhere. my brother and i are two tiny people. we like quiet things and lost our rowdiness phase long ago. we talk baseball and i look around at the rest of the fans in our section who are more inclined to chirp players or talk about how hot the girls sitting in the next row are.

yes, attractive people go to games. not all of them are going to be that interested in baseball or know anything about baseball, but it's a social activity that everyone should try once. people who enjoy baseball are going to be more than willing to explain things going on to someone that doesn't understand what's happening. and most likely, we're not going to try to make a move on you while we're explaining the rules to you; unless you ask a baseball bro.

what i've noticed in the amount of games i've been to is that, if you're a baseball bro, you're one for life. you get really drunk at the game. you might actually know things about the game, but most of the time, you don't. you yell and scream when bad plays happen. you talk louder than everyone else. you white boy dance and carry on. you check out every hot girl around you. you spend more time hanging out in lines getting beer and checking out girls not in the stands rather than watching the game. you probably came to the game with like 6 other baseball bros who are all doing the same thing. you're more likely to jump on the field streaking. you're more likely to get complaints and be escorted out of the game. you're more likely to be hated by everyone around you. and you're everywhere, in every section, whether you're in the lower 100s or upper 500s.

since i've grown up in an era of mindfulness and rampant femininity/masculinity, i can safely say that i've never been attracted to a baseball bro, or wanted to be. it's toxic masculinity, and these are the kinds of people i don't need in my life. these baseball bros are typically the dudes who use terrible pick up lines to pick up girls at the game. these are the dudes that believe because girls are looking at them, that the girls are interested in them.

as i stood in one of the beer lines on friday, i looked around to realize i was the only girl standing in either of these beer lines. a tv hooked up to the wall is playing the game, so i'm turned around to watch it while i wait in line. when i look back, the older, bald man with a pot belly standing in front of me is smiling at me and attempts to talk to me. i awkwardly small talk with him and turn back to watch the game. just then, two baseball bros get in line directly behind me and talk about how they aren't going to be able to make it to the club tonight. they drunkenly discuss logistic planning of how they're getting home and the one makes a comment about how i'm glued to the screen. i simply smile and quietly reply that i like baseball. they stop talking to me and go back to checking out the girls walking by. i turn back around to see the beer line hasn't moved and security is removing a guy from the line because he's too drunk and is causing a scene. the two guys behind me panic and wonder if they are also too drunk. they decide they are and leave the line.

i get a beer and head back to my seat, passing by all kinds of baseball bros on the way who are standing around checking out girls, most of them rating the girls as they walk by. i'm sorry, when did this become okay to do? this is not a club. most of these girls aren't here to get laid. what are the chances you're actually going to pick up a girl doing this? you know that thing.. where you actually have to talk to girls to have sex with them? this is not the place where you can just grind up behind a girl and take her home with you (although i wouldn't be surprised if this started happening at jays games in the future). i'm sure i was rated a 2 because i wasn't in a jays jersey with leggings and uggs and long hair and a jays hat and wasn't drunk and wasn't checking out the dudes rating girls as they walked by. but that's totally okay, because if i was rating those dudes too, they'd also be about a 2. i go to a jays game so i can watch baseball, not try to pick up a dude. and yes, there are A LOT of attractive dudes at these games

i waited to get back to my seat and watched as 2 drunken, belligerent dudes weren't listening to the staff member at the top of the stairs who told everyone to wait until the play was over to go back to their seats. the one sneaks by the staff member while the other is stopped by the staff member. the dude who is stopped then makes an extremely rude and racist comment to the staff member and all i wanted to do was punch the bro for his remark. i was impressed by the staff member who was probably around my age, for holding his own and not becoming upset about this drunken bro's comment. i imagine this wouldn't be the only time some drunk bro would be yelling racist comments at him during the season, and i actually felt bad.

later on, i noticed two more drunken, belligerent dudes making a scene about changing seats. these guys had to be at least mid-40s and were more drunk than any of the young bros in my section. one of them nearly wipes out going up the stairs. once a bro, always a bro.

just.. pay attention to the game.. please. you have better odds that the jays will win the game than you successfully picking up a hot girl at the game.

an open letter to my loud neighbours

dear apartment 304,

i'd like to start by telling you how we've been neighbours for almost three years now. do you know what that means? it means i've been putting up with your noise for almost three years. in my first year living here, i didn't really know how to react. this was my first apartment. this was my first year in toronto. when i lived in a residence, it was easy for me to yell at my neighbours to shut the fuck up and they would hear me, despite the concrete walls separating rooms. unfortunately, no matter how much i yell through my wall at you to shut the fuck up, you never do.

see, here's the thing: you're louder than i am. i'm not loud. i'm pretty quiet. sure, i can have fun and be social. when i have conversations with friends in my apartment, i'm having a conversation, not a yelling match while we sit next to each other. and these walls? how do you not realize they are paper thin? you know all the construction they do in this building and all the noise? you have to hear it too all the time. it can't just be us.

the first year we were neighbours came and went. i put up with your shit. by the time the second year rolled around, i realized i couldn't function unless i had actually slept. i had early class. i had early work. i had a real job. i slept very lightly. between you, my roommate, and general toronto city noise, i was constantly woken up. do you remember that time you had people over at 4am on a weekday? do you remember how fucking loud you were? i bet you don't. but i sure do. you were so loud that i took a shoe and just banged the wall as loud as i could until you got the fucking memo to shut the fuck up. eventually, you did. it was at this point where i was ready to write you an extremely passive-aggressive note to shut the fuck up during weekdays. but, i held off.

i started using this "bang on the wall until you shut up" technique any time you woke me up and it was an unreasonable hour. for the most part, it worked. the only times when i didn't do this was when you were having loud sex.

remember those paper thin walls? remember how you're loud? remember how your sex is not a porno? yes, it got to a point where i could tell you were faking it. listen, lady. your boyfriend doesn't need the encouragement every single time you have sex. and also, no one has that much great sex all the time. it just doesn't happen. and yes, i know those moans and groans quite well. that's how i know you're faking it. but if i can hear you fake it, it means you're being too fucking loud. there's this thing.. i don't know if you know it, but it's called quiet sex. it's called intimate sex. i can never hear your boyfriend, so for him, it must never be that good. that's why you should definitely stop what you're doing.

this week alone, you've woken me up four different times at unreasonable hours. maybe you're yelling at someone on the phone. maybe you're having loud sex. maybe you're just yelling at each other because you can. maybe you're doing whatever it is the fuck you're doing, but still yelling at each other. that's REAL fucking annoying. even when my roommate and i have people over, you don't hear us. when my roommate and i are in my room talking, you don't hear us. when i'm having sex with a dude, you don't hear us. and i've had some great sex in this apartment. you've still never heard it.

you see, back in kindergarten, we were taught to use our indoor voices and that voices carry. were you not brought up this way? do you not understand that you are the reason why people move in on this floor and move out within the year? it's because i'm not the only neighbour you have. you also share a wall with the apartment directly across the hall from me. i can count at least five people who have moved in and moved out of that apartment over the past three years. we've run into other neighbours on this floor who complain about how loud you are. my roommate and i have come home nights only to hear you "having a party" with what is probably just the two of you and you're so loud that it just sounds like you're actually in the hallway and not in your apartment.

so, last night, when you woke me up at 2am with your loud sex, i was pissed off. i took a shoe and banged on the wall. what did you do? you didn't shut up. you actually banged on the wall back. no, i don't want to join in on your loud sex. i want you to shut the fuck up. i want to sleep without hearing it. after that, i never heard you again. and that's how it should be. i shouldn't hear you in your apartment ever.

seriously, don't make me actually print this blog post and put it in your mailbox. one more incident like this and i'm going to do it.

sincerely,
apartment 303.

dear ontario government/city of toronto, thanks for nothing

i'd just like to thank the ontario government/city of toronto for fucking me over royally.

i couldn't afford to live in toronto after i finished school last april, so in june/july, i applied for social assistance and was accepted. they offered me some basic money every month that didn't cover my rent, but at least it helped a bit. they were supposed to give me money for volunteering. they didn't. i'm with one worker until i get my job in august.

when i got a full time job in august, they gave me money for 2 more months, once because i didn't get my first pay until the end of my first month of work and the second time because i was unaware i had to report my income every month to them, even though they knew i had a full-time, well-enough paying job. they were supposed to tack on more money for volunteering. they didn't. they were supposed to give me money for getting a job - a, "here, buy some nice clothes and get a haircut for your new job" - and they only gave me half. so i thought. i'm passed to another worker at this point, who i never meet.

3 months go by and i'm out of a job. i leave toronto for almost the entirety of november and come back in december to call social assistance and get back on it. turns out i have too much money now and i'm not eligible. uh, okay. also, i had been transferred to yet another worker. i call back in january to this new worker when i have less money. okay, i'm eligible. they go back and give me money for december. they give me the full amount for that clothes thing, which they mistakenly didn't give me before. at all. they tack on the volunteering amount and now i can roughly make my rent costs without much of a struggle. i can't afford much else, but i can at least afford a roof over my head.

two days later, after all of this is settled and i'm told all of my money problems have been rectified and i'm actually a file in their system now, i get a new job. a part time job that doesn't pay well. i notify the correct people and am told i'll be transferred to ANOTHER worker who i've yet to meet. i report my income for february and they continue to give me a fair amount of money. well, look at that! i can kind of afford things! not a lot of things. but things. in march, i don't make that much more than i do in february and i figure they'll give me the same amount. a few days ago, i received a letter booking me for an updated appointment to meet my new worker. on a tuesday morning. hey uh, remember that job i have and stuff? the one i told the last worker about - that i work monday to friday, AT LEAST 9am-2pm? yeah. i do. so why don't you?

i stopped in to see someone this afternoon and met with my new worker who looked about as young as i do. i had to essentially re-tell my entire life story to her because she knew nothing about me and didn't even bother to look at my file. i was already having the worst day so i was getting ready to just get up and walk away from her. she told me that she didn't receive my income report even though i mailed it out. then i told her how much i made and she said i probably wouldn't be eligible for this month because i made too much money. excuse me?

as per EVERY SINGLE WORKER I'VE DEALT WITH SO FAR, she made a comment about how my phone number is still a niagara number. yes, it's long distance. yes, you're the fucking city of toronto, i'm PRETTY SURE YOU CAN AFFORD A LONG DISTANCE CALL TO ME OCCASIONALLY. she went on to tell me that i hadn't been given the volunteering amount of money yet. YET. IT HAD BEEN AT LEAST THREE MONTHS SINCE I HAD TRIPLE CONFIRMED THAT I'D GET THAT MONEY. which means i also probably didn't get the "hey go buy new clothes and get a haircut because you got a job again" money.

oh, then i was eligible for this month. FOR 14 FUCKING CENTS. 

let this be a lesson to everyone: even if you're low income/no income, you'll still get fucked over by the people who are supposed to give you money because you're low income/no income.

fuck. you.

anxiety & mental health

since i moved to toronto, i've become increasingly aware of the mental health issues everyone in my life faces. anxiety, depression, stress-related, and fear - whether they're out in the open or hidden away, everyone, including myself, has suffered through it at one time or another. for some people, it's ongoing.

there's no cure. there's no way to just "get over it." it's all different. it's irrational. it's rational. it's your brain. it's your body. it's your situation. it's your experiences. it is what it is and there isn't any way around it. i've come to expect this. i've come to expect failed plans and miserable moods between friends. and i'm okay with that, because i know what they're dealing with.

when it's hidden, however, is a whole other story. i have some pretty irrational fears that are "normal" for someone my age. there are also certain things i refuse to do because of those fears. for instance, i can't kill a bug. i just can't. i'm so scared of them that i either just leave or get someone else to deal with it. big or small, bugs are a definite nope.

that's just one fear. another problem i've had since i was young was the inability to swallow pills. as you can imagine, when i was sick at various intervals in 2013 and was on antibiotic treatment for four months you can imagine the bind i was in. i can assure you that it never went well. i suffered through mini panic attacks every time i had to take a pill. there were times when i had to literally walk away from my attempt and come back ten minutes later and try again. and usually, in this second attempt, i would choke, causing things to be even worse. that was not a fun four months of my life.

i've watched over the past couple years how people deal with themselves and their brain. if it's hidden and they haven't received help, i've watched as they try to take their own lives. this has been a serious problem for me since about 2010.

it started when the dude i was with told me that he wanted to kill himself. he told me that he was joking, except i knew that he definitely wasn't. since the day he told me, i could never feel the same way about him because i knew he needed to get help. not only was his threat real (to me, despite him not seeing it yet) - he also suffered from terrible anger issues that put a strain on our relationship. you could probably say this is why i stayed with him for as long as i did. i wanted him to get help but he never listened. when it ended the way it did, i wasn't surprised and wished whoever it was he'd be with next wouldn't have to go through the same things i did.

the years that followed would be a whirlwind of me doing my best to help friends in need. i don't know why i am, but i seem to be a safety net. and even then, a few things will always be hidden away and out of reach until it's too late. i've lost a number of people in my life to suicide and others who were lucky enough to be rescued before an attempt could be made. i say "lucky" but i mean it in the loosest of terms. i know that sometimes, if there isn't a light at the end of that tunnel, there never will be, despite any and all attempts made to take that life.

so, when it happens to a relative, like it did to me about two weeks ago, forgive me for not being myself.

her anxiety issues were hidden away, as they are. and when one situation took her over the edge, she no longer saw a light at the end of her tunnel. fortunately, for all  of us, she was found and her attempt had been unsuccessful. it was later revealed the reason why she had tried and how the other relative had known about some of her anxiety, but not all.

we're all still a bit shaken up. my parents are strong people but i have no idea how they even deal with something like this. with me being sick for the later part of 2013 and my recovery, it was bad enough they had to see me go through that and be my support system through it all. for this to happen a couple months after, i worry about their mental health more than my own.

of course, it takes a toll on me too. but i know i'm strong and stable. i know i have to be for when others fall weak. so, maybe before you get mad at me for wanting to stay home on a friday night instead of getting drunk, there's probably a solid reason for me staying in.

i'm okay. i'm just worried about my relative's future mental health and hope that this won't happen again. and i'm an optimist, so i have to believe that it won't happen again.

please don't prove me wrong.

woo hoo classic simpsons trivia

in 2012, i made a craigslist missed connection post to a dude i saw on the subway one morning on my way to school. he was a mega hunk and we exchanged some flirtatious smiles and glances.

i received a shit ton of responses, but one dude in particular was convinced that it was him. after an exchange of pictures, it turns out it wasn't him, but he was cute enough that we became friends. it also ended up that he was from niagara and living in toronto. we had a few niagara friends in common and were probably at some of the same social gatherings once or twice but were never introduced.

several months pass and we don't really talk. he barely uses facebook until one day, he messages me and asks if i think i'd be any good at simpsons trivia. i was ecstatic. why yes, i'd probably be pretty decent at it.  he told me about woo hoo classic simpsons trivia toronto and i was stoked. i studied up and in july 2012, made it out to my first trivia night. it was the first time i had met this dude and he brought along a few friends on his team. i don't remember much about how we did in points or questions. i remember one question - what was the name of the babysitting service the simpsons used. yeah, you know, that one. rubber baby buggy bumper babysitting service. needless to say, i didn't get it then and i still had to look it up now.

two things i can definitely recall from the night: this dude was insanely attractive and this was the most fun i've had since moving to toronto. after it was all over, i became friends with the rest of the team and hoped to return the following month. unfortunately, that never seemed to happen. as much as i made attempts to get in touch with the team to go, they never responded. i was at a loss. i figured i'd never get to go again.

in may 2013, i round up a group of friends who know something about the simpsons and we make it out. we did pretty awful but still got something in the 15-20 point range. around this time, i started following some trivia related people on twitter and kept asking if i could join a team. i just wanted to participate in trivia so badly. eventually, i make plans to join a twitter dude's team on twitter and in july 2013, a friend and i ventured out to join this team. the dude himself wasn't actually there but everybody seemed to get along fine and i made some new friends.

i went again in august, october, december, january, and most recently, february. last night was the valentine's day edition. every month we seemed to do better and better but it was difficult to know whether or not we would place in the top 3. in september or november, when i missed those months, one of the winning teams graciously offered my team leftover donuts. my new goal was to at least be present when donuts were offered or, well, you know, actually come in the top 3 and get donuts for myself.

last night, we came in second place! donuts were glorious and surprisingly, i did the best i've ever done at trivia by knowing the answers to nearly 95% of all questions asked. born to runner up. next month, we place in first. with a perfect score (50/50) like the team first place team did in february.

donuts!!

new beginnings

in early january, i applied to an administrative assistant job  posting i saw for a green energy firm. three weeks later, i was called in for an interview, and two days later, after completing an aptitude test, i was hired on.

the following week, i started job shadowing and training. there's a lot to know but i feel like i have an actual idea what i'm doing this time. i also don't believe that it will be as stressful as my last job, seeing as though it's only going to be part-time for the time being.

i've opted for a  part-time commitment because i'm just not sure if i can go back to full-time work. although i haven't had any real symptoms in nearly a month, my fear still stands. i don't want the same thing happening. i can't go back to hospitals and antibiotics. i can't go through what i did again. i'm not interested in almost dying again.

my director knows that i could eventually go full-time. so getting more hours than anticipated for some weeks if things don't get completed in their entirety is a good possibility. in the mean time, it's almost as though i'm a supervisor. i look after reps and keep tabs on their performance. i'm the punctuality police. i'm their performance tracker. i'm their payroll administrator. i'm the management operations specialist. i'm the customer relations expert. i'm the information request extraordinaire. i'm all of these titles and more for a pay that doesn't nearly seem like enough. and yet, i am enjoying it way more than being a gruntwork analyst at my previous job. 

unfortunately, this means i've also turned into old lady amber again. i'm exhausted by the time i get home and i don't want to do anything except play video games and go to bed. i can make attempts to maximize my weekend hours.. but it's never enough.

i was introduced to the 100 happy days challenge and have decided to take part. unfortunately, i picked the wrong day. i start tomorrow officially, but here's a sneak peak. i bought two very toronto-esque books today - robyn doolittle's crazy town (all about rob ford) & olivia chow's my journey. i don't feel i've spent nearly enough time reading lately, even with my unemployed free time. these will help me unwind after work days and i'm already hooked on crazy town. the rob ford saga is something that continues to baffle me, day after day. i'll post #100happydays across both my facebook and twitter platforms, as well as this blog if the happy is substantial or has a good story.

i'm usually a pretty happy, optimistic girl. i don't get overwhelmed by negative emotions and i think that is something which keeps me happy most days. even when life tries to get me down, it might for a little bit, but i know ways to make me happy. so why am i participating in the challenge?

i just want to be thankful for what i have. i want other people to see what i see, that i can find the happiness and positive every day. i want my friends who are struggling with mental/physical illnesses to maybe find some happiness in the happiness i bring to life. i want to keep my optimism up. i've never actually participated in any kind of online challenge before and this seemed like a good way to start, considering those facebook challenge things going around right now where people make videos in their undies out in the cold weather, chug a beer, and nominate three other people to do the same in 24 hours isn't something i'd ever participate in... but that's just my preference.

so what was my happy yesterday?

the german grapefruit wheat beer i had at house on parliament. deliciousness knows no bounds.

i'm ready!

confessions of a skinny girl

thanksgiving,1988: my mom has an appointment for an ultrasound to check on her baby's development, 7 months into pregnancy. she finishes the appointment and makes an attempt to leave the hospital, but i wasn't having any part of that.

sometime later in the evening, i was born, weighing in at barely 4 pounds. the doctors immediately stuck me in an incubator and told my parents that due to the complicated nature of the fact that i was overly premature and most of my body wasn't quite right, i wouldn't be able to leave the hospital for awhile. they weren't even entirely sure i would survive. they weren't sure how i would grow up.

i progressed through the first few years of school as a problem child who refused to do anything i didn't consider fun. i was enrolled in a ukrainian boarding school where i couldn't stand ukrainian class. eventually, my parents took me out of that school and into a regular public school. but once i had applied myself, the faculty soon realized that i was too smart for my own good. now i was being bullied for being a small, skinny kid who was also really smart.

i wasn't sure why this kept happening. it wasn't my fault that i was skinny or intelligent. i ate as much as the next kid but never gained any weight. my parents had taught me how to eat healthy and it stuck with me because when i started eating like shit, i felt like shit. it was easy to see the connection that healthy food = a healthy, alive amber.

several schools approached me to enroll in gifted programs and instead, my parents decided to move to a remote area and let my brother and i grow up there. the public school gave me a gifted test and put me in different classes even though i had expressed no interest in those classes. as i got older, i kept trying to hide how skinny i was in loose fitting clothes. having to change for gym class and noticing that all of the other girls were much bigger than me was intimidating. i would once again be bullied for being small, even though i had a way with words to get out of almost any situation.

this continued to happen despite me never commenting on any other body but my own. am i supposed to be your size? am i not supposed to be wearing kid's sized clothes in grade 9? are you not supposed to be able to see my hips, collar bone, and ribs protrude out of my skin? well, i'm sorry. but that's just how it's always going to be. and if that meant a life of loneliness and constant bullying, i didn't care. the optimist in my knew that someday things would change.

i spent my teenage years with the same issues; people would shame me for being skinny and others would tell me that they'd kill for my body. let's just say that skinny shaming always outweighed the positive aspect. and over the last five years, i've been able to "put on weight" - where my hips and ribs weren't nearly as noticeable protruding out of my body. but i could just as easily take it off if i exercised or became sick.

at 5'6", a normal BMI should be anywhere from 118lbs to 130lbs. i can't ever recall a time where i came anywhere close to the 130 mark. even today, i still get skinny shamed. i get close friends telling me that i'll "never be able to finish that" or that i've "eaten a lot" - phrases that continuously irk me in numerous ways. in grade 10, i weighed 115lbs. a decade later, i weigh in at about 118lbs and that's after i had a life-threatening illness.

i keep seeing articles every day over the last little while where fashion magazines and photos are actually photoshopping women's bodies to be less skinny. less bony. more "normal" looking. we're shamed for being overweight, for being normal looking, and for being skinny. most of which is thrust upon us and cannot be changed without determination. there's issues for having a thigh gap. there's memes of hot dog legs and bikini bridges. society will always find something wrong with your body and i think that's totally fucked up.

my brother and i have been roughly the same size all our lives and yet, because he's a dude, he doesn't get the same kind of skinny shaming i have experienced. dudes have it a little easier but i'm not saying it's any better.

from what i've been through, i'm just happy to be alive.
love your body because it's the only one you have.

fear of intimacy

i'm watching season 2 of the simpsons and in one fish, two fish, blowfish, blue fish, homer eats a poisonous part of a fish and is given 24 (no.. 22) hours to live. on his list of things to do, he makes one of the top (but very end of his list) items to "be intamit with marge"...

and the more that i think about it, the more i'm developing anxiety over intimacy and sex. not at all related to my commitment phobia, but rather, the belief that consenting to any dude touching me is just going to make me sick.

i'm afraid that every doctor i've seen in nearly six months is overlooking something huge. the symptoms i began to experience in may seemed to be directly correlated to someone i was seeing at the time. although this dude did not last very long in my life (for good reason), i also knew next to nothing about him, as things like that were never discussed. his previous partners, his previous sexual experiences and encounters, as well as the last time he was tested, were never something we talked about.

but this was not the first time i had gotten myself into this kind of situation and foolishly expected nothing to come from it. i hadn't been this careless in a long time but since i knew it wasn't going to last, i tried to enjoy it while it did. in fact, i hardly ever have this conversation with any of the dudes i'm seeing unless things get lengthy or we've acknowledged that this is not a monogamous relationship. and now that i'm getting older, i suppose it's getting to a time where this should be one of the main things discussed before becoming intimate.

the main problem i face while going through this illness is that my commitment issues are running wild in more than just my love life. i'm having trouble committing to hanging out with friends or going out and doing things on my own for the fear of never knowing what kind of shape i'll be in at any hour of the day. this becomes even more difficult when prospective dudes and new friends want to hang out. this is even worse should i be required to meet a potential employer for a face-to-face interview.

there's only so many times where i can bail on friends before i turn into that flaky friend which i have never wanted to be. think about how hard it is from my point of view - from someone who thrives on social interaction - and due to my health, cannot be bothered to leave my apartment because i feel like absolute shit. what i don't want at this point is to start a new relationship with a dude and have to bring him into all of my health problems. i don't want anyone to have to deal with this that isn't me.

i just want to be cured and i don't want the cure to be me on antibiotics every month for the rest of my life.

new year, old dicks

it's pretty rare for me to stay friends with an ex.. or barely an ex.

i'm always really confused when other people in my life seem to do it easily. but then again, i'm just as confused when people break up and continue to fool around with that person. i mean, because, you broke up for a reason, right? it wasn't working? then you probably shouldn't be fucking each other.

yes, there's maybe a handful of dudes i've fooled around with in the past that i'm still friends with. but that was always after a very long time of not seeing them once things ended. the longer i hold off on seeing someone, the easier it is to forget the feelings i may have once had. sometimes, it actually doesn't take very long when i realize that i didn't have any feelings at all and want to continue to be that dude's friend. but again, it's rare. i can count two in the last seven years. both of which it didn't take too long for me to know we're better off as friends than anything more. and i know they feel the same.

i suppose things get much worse when you're living with the person you broke up with. and then i wonder why people get into relationships and commitment as quick as they do before they realize the crushing disappointment that will eventually come with it, sooner or later.

that's something i could never do for him. and it's what he wanted. he wanted a live-in girlfriend. someone who would be there when he came home from work. someone who would make him dinner. someone who would always be around. but i made it clear to him in the very beginning that wasn't who i was and it would never be. i was not going to be his mother. but that's what he wanted and he found someone else willing to be his mother. willing to move in with him. willing to tell him that she loved him. willing to take countless pictures of the two of them together pretending to be happy, frame them, and put them up around the small, half-room they now shared. someone who was willing to change him into, what is supposedly, a better person. someone who would spend the money it costs to buy him a PS4, only to break up days later.

but you don't ever take an eye off of the one who kind of meant something to you once even though you weren't exactly officially dating. as much as i tried to remove him from my life entirely. and every time i saw something, it irked me just a little bit. until i finally stopped caring and knew getting out of it when i did was the best for me at the time, because he was willing to settle for less, then come crawling back days later once she rejected him the first time. and when i rejected him after listening to what he had to say to me to get me back (and me pretty much laughing at him for thinking we'd ever get back together), he went back to her and apparently she was also ready to settle.

and just over a year later, i get what seems to be the inevitable - a message from him on the same dating website where we met. where he has the nerve to ask me to get a drink. fuck that. fuck you. i remember telling him that at one point we might be able to be friends and i knew i was lying. for some reason, he thought we could someday. no. no we can't. please stay the fuck out of my life.

and days after that, i see another bizarre sighting on the same website. this time, it's the dude who picked me up from sneaky dee's that one night in october. where we lasted a few weeks and he continuously told me he wanted me to be his girlfriend. and i kept telling him that wasn't what i wanted. but he seemed to know what he wanted and without warning, disappeared. legitimately.

i had almost forgotten about this one since it had just been this strange little blip in my dating history until i recently came across a blogTO article where he was featured and i recognized his name. well, at least he was having success in doing something he loved. and unfortunately, i made the mistake and made the message move. in which, i received a quick reply of him saying he wanted to message me but thought it would be weird. well, fuck. yes, it's fucking weird. then i made the even worse mistake of saying maybe to meeting up after he told me that he just ended a year long relationship.

uh, wait a minute - a year ago - uhhhhh A YEAR AGO THAT WAS US.

he disappeared on me for someone else. he then had the nerve to ask me if i was interested in hooking up. thankfully, i told him that wasn't the case and the texts have stopped. 

2014: the year i stop dating and keep the past in the past.

but then, i don't know what the fuck i'd write about.

the cheating curve

i wanted to write about how the cystoscopy went this week but i'm actually tired about writing about how terrible my health is and how there aren't any answers for me. the good news is that everything came back normal and they took another urine sample. they put me on 3 days of a new antibiotic to prevent any new infection from occurring and to kill off whatever infection remained.

in the meantime, i'm still waiting for complete feeling and mobility of my left leg and foot to come back entirely and not feel like constant pins and needles. i don't know why it ended up happening this way, but i am not impressed.

great. now let's go on to what is currently keeping me awake:

infidelity.

no, i'm not in a relationship. but i remember when i was. i remember when i was some dude's girlfriend, and i almost want to use that term loosely, since there was never a distinct indication of the time we seemed to go from coworkers to friends to out one night to walking me home to in my bed to seeing each other to wait, what, i'm now your girlfriend to uhhh i don't know how i feel about this to god only knows what.

and 3 months later, that's what it was. i was officially a girlfriend because i was told. i didn't have an opinion in the matter. and i guess you can say that's likely when it all started to go downhill and i realized we were totally wrong for each other. i started wandering off. i started hanging out with dudes where i knew something would happen, because it always did.

and right around this time, this dude, who i was the apparent girlfriend of, and we had been together for four months, decided to tell me that he was in love with me.

me. 
he was in love with me.

you want a sure way to ruin everything? tell a commitaphobe 4 months into barely dating that you're in love with her. yeah, see how that goes.

i always had a sneaking suspicion that he was beginning to know what i was up to some nights when i went out. i was young. i wanted to go out and see my friends. he was a homebody. he wanted to see his friends. i hated his friends. i hated his family. i hated being with him. i hated how every other dude in my life made me feel better about myself - even if there wasn't anything between us at the time. i hated knowing that he told me he loved me and i didn't say anything back. and never did. i hated knowing that i was going to have to break up with him. but i couldn't. i was stubborn and he was in love. i knew he was the one that would have to break up with me in order for this to work out in my favour.

so, i started hanging out more with my friends. and he started hanging out more with some of his new friends. one of his classmates. a girl. a girl who was married and old and "ugly" - his words. he told me she was not his type. but i'm not even sure he knew who his type was. they would do lots of things together. and when time came for us to do the long distance thing, she brought him to see a jays game once and then i met up with them. it just seemed odd that this married woman was hanging out with this 22 year old dude. but as i was looking for a way out, i didn't care.

more months passed and then i got a text from him saying that some girl at a party kissed him. well, hey! here's my way out! except, fuck that. i knew i was better than breaking up with him over text. so, i let it slide. and kept doing what i was doing. i wasn't sleeping around but just keeping my options open. a few weeks later, i came home and was making every excuse not to see him. eventually, he was fed up and broke up with me through a text message. really, dude? uh, okay. you do that then. he obviously took it a lot harder than me (as they.. always tend to do.. i'm just heartless or something) and had to unfriend me on facebook and all that.

and from time to time, i'd lurk a profile or two. guess who he's dating now? that married girl. she might even still be married. i don't fucking know or care. it's just bizarre. and well, at least i know now that i had a right to be suspicious of them in the first place.

i say all of this because in the last year or so, i've been propositioned on more than one occasion to get with married/committed dudes. all with psycho wives/girlfriends. talking to them is one thing. sexting is another. but i don't see what i'm doing or what they're doing as wrong or cheating. it was only when i physically kissed other dudes - that was my line drawn on the cheating curve. yes, i talked. yes, i flirted. yes, i wanted it all. but until there was something physical, i was convinced i was never in the wrong. and currently. this is sort of how i continue to feel about the opportunities i'm presented with.

some have been going on for a year. some come and go in monthly intervals or when i'm mostly just feeling down. some i've even turned down because i don't want to get involved. i'm all for open marriages and open relationships. i'm all for primary partners and polygamy. i've been there. i've done that. and actually, it's kind of nice. gone are the days when one person can give the other what they need. but any of the ones i've been involved with have yet to become physical. in fact, it gets a little hard to believe when a much older, married man, tries to explain to me how much he cares for me. that isn't what i signed up for. and it doesn't necessarily make me feel better about myself when a sketchy, old, married man with kids is saying these things to me.

i'm not a naive girl. and it's because i tend to get myself into these situations over and over again that i know when and how to get out of them. participating in someone else's infidelity is not my fault.

i only wish i knew that earlier.

a hospital visit i won't soon forget

i was supposed to have that cystoscopy on thursday. i was terrified.

i remained cautiously optimistic in the fact that i was told they would give me a sedative or anaesthetic to help me relax. i was told it would be no more invasive than a pap smear. and well, that's fine, but i've never had one of those either. needless to say, i was pretty damn nervous to have my who-ha exposed and on display for the first time.

then, they told me i wasn't able to have a sedative or anaesthetic. they told me they don't do that. uhh, wait a minute. the secretary who booked my appointment said i could have drugs if i wanted them. and now you're telling me i can't? okay. well. uhm. let's give it a shot then. the nurse told me i wouldn't be able to feel much and it would be "just a pinch" - i'm a little relieved until she starts prepping me.

HELLO LADY?! THAT IS NOT A PINCH. THAT FEELS LIKE YOU'RE RIPPING APART MY FUCKING VAGINA DEAR GOD STOP.  i was crying and yelling and screaming. and all they had done was put some freezing gel on me.

yeah, so, that didn't go well. they didn't even try to go through with the procedure. and that's for the best. after i had regained my composure a bit, i talked to the urologist who ordered me some anaesthetic for next time and set up another appointment for next wednesday.

to get this anaesthetic, i had to go see a doctor at the walk-in clinic and get him to examine me, make sure i'm healthy, and sign off on the form to knock me out. guess who the doctor is? the one i fucking can't stand. the one who put me on the antibiotic that gave me c diff. the one that belittles me every chance he gets.

i calmly and politely discussed with him why i'm getting the cystoscopy and the instructions i was given to tell the doctor to ensure all the paperwork goes through. he then passively-aggressively mentions that i need to stop telling him how to do his job. WHAT THE FUCK, MAN?! this is MY body. this is what the UROLOGIST PERFORMING THE PROCEDURE WANTS AND IT'S DIFFERENT THAN THE NORMAL FORMS YOU HAVE TO FILL OUT, ASSHOLE.

he quickly runs through my physical, asking me when was the last time i had a physical done. i don't remember. he laughs. he then asks if my weight and height on the form are accurate, even though i had just estimated. again, he laughs inappropriately and i ask if i could weigh myself. without mentioning that he's finished examining me, he goes to leave the room. i ask if i'm supposed to bring all of my stuff and if we're done. he says "yes, we're done here" - DUDE. TELL ME THAT THEN. DON'T WANDER OFF IN A HUFF. YOU'RE A FUCKING DOCTOR. COMMUNICATE WITH ME.

i want to mention that when i saw this doctor days before i was hospitalized the second time and when he had prescribed me the second antibiotic, he asked me if i had sex in the last few months. i told him no, because i haven't. and that's the story i've been telling every doctor i had met over the past couple months. why would i lie? well, for some reason, this doctor seemed convinced i was lying to him and again, laughed at me, almost implying that i was a whore.

a nurse weighs me and i weigh in at 118 pounds. the doctor then tells me that i was "close" as i had written down 120 on the form. he either thought i was fatter than 120 or skinnier than 120... and it's probably the fatter one, knowing this guy. even the secretary at the urologist's office looked at me, as i was completely bundled up for the cold weather and said, "you look like you're about 110 and much taller than 5'6" 

i just want to get this test over with finally so they can tell me why i keep getting these recurring infections for no reason. wednesday needs to get here faster.

i forget what it feels like to be healthy

i'm still not 100% as we've now hit the fourth month of being sick.

i had an appointment with a toronto urologist on tuesday after i finished the remaining c diff antibiotics friday night. i never want to see, taste, or take another pill ever again. and i never want to wake up with a new side effect ever again.

think of the absolute worst hangover you've had in your life. the nausea. the body aches. the headache. then multiply it by about 1000 and there you have how i felt for 5 days. constant, 24 hour nausea. what's worse is that i had to take the antibiotics with food or else it would be bad. ever tried eating when you're nauseous as fuck? it's not good.

i told the toronto urologist about all of my problems and all he could really tell me is that it sounds like i've just had an extremely unlucky set of events in the past four months. his sympathy was greatly appreciated once he put it into perspective. and here, i thought it was just me. he scheduled me for a cystoscopy for next week. they're gonna look inside my bladder and see if there's something in there causing the infections.

before any of this started, i never had a dream that involved doctors, hospitals, or me being sick. a few days before i was hospitalized back in september, i had a dream that i was seeing a doctor who told me i had a "self inflicted STD" - whatever that means. it's stuck with me, even though it didn't make any sense. i hadn't been with anyone and well, let's be honest, hadn't really helped myself out much either.

before i met with the toronto urologist, i had a dream i was back in the hospital undergoing some kind of a procedure for an "embolism" - but they were sticking needles in my tummy. again, this is a dream that's stuck with me because my subconscious seems to know when something is wrong with me before my body does.

and although i'm back on the job hunt in the most minimal way and back to having stupid, waste of my time interviews (like the ones i had yesterday, amongst the other five hundred people looking to score similar positions by meeting with an employer for 5 minutes), i just want to be better before i get out there again.

there's no telling when i'm actually going to feel 100%, as i kind of forget what that feels like. it has been over four months since i've felt healthy.

i'll just continue to take this one day at a time.

rough patch

my name is amber.

i'm 25, unemployed, single, and sick as fuck.

i never thought much about my future when i was young. 25 seemed so far away at the time and i didn't know what i wanted for dinner, let alone, where i'd be a decade or two from then.

you can tell me i'm going through a rough patch all you want. that i grew up and graduated from school at the wrong time. that the economy blows. that i'm not putting myself out there as much as i should be. that i should go back to school. that i should interview better. that i shouldn't have spent so long in school. that i should've started working sooner. that it's my own fault for losing my job. that it's my own fault for getting plagued with an illness that makes me watch my body deteriorate at an alarming rate.

but there isn't much i can do, outside of what i'm already doing. how long do these rough patches last? or maybe this is my body saying that i need to become a professional student, since the moment i stopped going to school, i became ill for no reason.

when the results of the test i took on sunday came back and were positive for c diff, it was  the first time in over a decade where i was more concerned with my mental health than my physical well-being.

plagued with this ongoing illness for over 3 months (with mild symptoms beginning as early as may and severe symptoms starting in september), my body has been in a complete revolt. the prolonged use of antibiotics gave me another infection on top of what i was already fighting, and now i feel as though i'm losing both battles simultaneously. my symptoms, severity, duration - none of them point to one underlying illness. instead, i've been thrown on 4 different antibiotics and attempted a wait-and-see appraoch, which did nothing and required me to go onto the fourth antibiotic.

i'm doing my best to be strong through all of this. i'm tough. i'm an optimist. this is what i do. but waking up and experiencing new side effects daily is making me lose hope in my optimism. the constant support of family and friends is no match when it's getting more and more difficult to recognize yourself, both physically and emotionally.

but i'll get through this because i always do. my optimism still stands, it's just a little less than what it was before. 

unemployed & more health issues

a lot can change in 2 weeks.

i finished the second round of antibiotics on sunday november 3. on the saturday, i went to the clinic for a follow up. i told the doctor i was feeling better and he told me to continue what i'm doing and come in a week later to do another urine sample.

i was feeling better for about two days. on wednesday, i woke up with the dull back ache and a bit of a tummy ache. well, that's not good. i went to the clinic on my lunch break and did another urine test. the doctor, once again, said i'm fighting something and put me back on the same antibiotics i just had for round 2, but for longer - 10 days this time. i went back to work and finished out the day.

i went to work thursday morning and settled in for another day. about twenty minutes into starting my work, my boss comes over and asks to talk to me. he brings me into one of the conference rooms with the HR lady. i figured they were just going to go over my benefits package again, which i was to receive the following week, on november 12, as my 3 month probationary term ended.

instead, my boss tells me that he's terminating me as part of my 3 months and that it was "a business decision" - effective immediately.

uh. what?!

so, i'm shocked. i don't even know what to say. my boss leaves and the HR lady tells me that i get paid until the end of the week and a bunch of other stuff i tuned out. i ask if this had anything to do with the fact that i have been very ill the past couple of months. she tells me it isn't. she then says it "just wasn't the right fit" and continues to tell me more things.

uh. i bring up the fact that about a month ago, i had a mini performance evaluation in which i was told everything was going great and they were extremely happy with me. the HR lady tells me she will try to look into this further for answers.

i've taken 3 sick days in the time i've been there. 3 completely legitimate sick days - 1 of which i was in the hospital before, 1 of which i was in the hospital after. however, my illness never once affected my work. ever. in fact, before heading to the hospital the second time, i came home and finished up part of the work that needed to be sent out that evening, but the servers were not working too well all day.

so, i was laid off for no reason. pretty much a "you'll reach your 3 months in 4 days but since you haven't, suck it" and now i'm back on the job hunt.

following this, i came home to niagara thursday afternoon. i had managed to get an appointment to see my family doctor friday. friday morning, i began to experience some light side effects from the antibiotics. i talked to my doctor who did bloodwork and another urine test. by friday night,  i was dying with these side effects and took some other medicine to help counteract it.

it seemed to work, as saturday i was only experiencing very minimal side effects. but, on sunday, i was back to being even worse. by 3pm, i was nauseous, dizzy, and having trouble breathing. yes, folks, this was hospital visit #3. in niagara this time. the hospital set me up with hydration IVs, took samples, and bloodwork. 4 hours later, a doctor was telling me to get off the antibiotics, that it looked like the UTI was clearing, and giving me a referral to a urologist.

i can only hope i'll see this specialist sooner rather than later, and that pain doesn't start to come back as i'm not on the antibiotics.

my only priority is to get better before i start my job search again.
but, should you see anything out there where i meet the qualifications, don't hesitate to get in touch.

repeat offender (my second toronto hospital visit)

remember that kidney infection from last month?

yep, so do i.

after i finished those antibiotics, i probably felt okay for about a week. and then i started noticing that i'd get sharp pains or cramps for like, a second, and then they'd go away. a few more weeks later, i was noticing that i was peeing more frequently, too. and it seemed as though i was falling into the symptoms i had last time.

this past saturday, i noticed that i was peeing an insane amount for only having a tea and a glass of juice in the morning. i decided that if it happened again on sunday, i'd go to the doctor. it didn't. what did happen on sunday was more sharp pains - consistent throughout the day and evening - that last for a second and go away. well, that's not normal.

my own room! fancy!

so, monday morning, i went to the doctor and did a urine sample, which came back positive for something and i had an abnormal white cell count. i was definitely fighting something. he gave me a prescription for an antibiotic and told me to wait until the results, unless the symptoms got worse. monday evening, i went pee and my entire body decided to hurt pretty bad and continue to hurt all throughout the night. barely sleeping, i woke up the next morning and had a sick day. i got the prescription filled and started to feel a bit better after taking them.

wednesday morning, i took a pill and the pain and discomfort did not go away. i went into work, despite feeling ill. i called the clinic and asked if my results were back and they told me to come in again. i went to the doctor after work, but the culture sample the doctor wanted to see wasn't back yet. but, he said i had a high fever and when he touched my tummy, everything seemed very sore. so, he wrote me a note to be admitted to the emergency room at the hospital.. again.

big guns: IV antibiotics

wonderful! wednesday evening, around 7:30pm, i checked myself in. by 10:30pm, two doctors examined me and tried to figure out my problem. at about midnight, they came back and told me that they're going to order an ultrasound, do bloodwork, and put me on IV antibiotics. but that i'd get home.. "eventually". with this referral from the clinic, i had my own room and it was kind of quiet. i was in and out of sleep for most of the time. the IV antibiotics made me feel less pain and discomfort. at 3am, i saw another doctor who told me to keep taking the antibiotics i got from the clinic and to go home to rest. they scheduled me for an ultrasound again, this time at 2pm.

i got home around 4am and went to sleep. i awoke and felt better with only minimal pain. i went back for the ultrasound at 2pm, waited for results, only to find the exact same thing as the last ultrasound: nothing. zilch. everything's healthy and functional.

so, it's either another UTI/kidney infection and i have seriously bad luck (it's unusual since i haven't been with anyone in months & never had a UTI before this) or that the one from september just didn't go away completely.

uh. here's hoping the second round of antibiotics kicks it in the butt!

say this sooner

i think about things a lot.

no, i'm not talking about those girly thoughts, making up every worst case scenario based on whatever is currently happening; but just things in general. self-improvement. self-awareness. things i can do to make myself more happy and more content, if i'm truly the decider of my fate.

i think about what it would've been like if i didn't leave new zealand. i think about where i'd be if i hadn't participated in numerous dudes' infidelity. i think about how i would have felt if one of those had actually happened, rather than coming to my senses and realizing that it wasn't who i wanted to be. i think about where i'd be if i didn't move to toronto, if i didn't spend two years in grad school, and two years searching for a job. i just wonder how things could have turned out, sometimes, had i went with the other decision. even for minimal things.

and as a way for me to grow up and continue my own self-awareness, i'm going to share two things about me that i feel like people in my life should know, if they don't know already.

1) it's extremely difficult for me to "open up" 

if you've been following me along in this blog adventure for quite some time, you might notice that each post kind of dives a bit deeper into various topics. originally, this blog was intended to help me with my post-graduation job search and keep me busy out of boredom. i've always had a passion for writing and it keeps me sane. in more ways than one, this blog has been my outlet for whatever is bothering me and i'm continuously reminded that, once i finish a blog post, i immediately feel better about the issue at hand and (normally) come up with a plausible solution.

i can count on one hand, the amount of people i feel i've shared myself with. this is nobody's fault but my own. this has nothing to do with a trust issue. this has nothing to do with my social and friendly demeanor. this is just how i interact with people. if i'm not comfortable with a person, i'm not going to open up with them as much as i should. this part kills me every time - because i can read people extremely well. i know who i can be friends with, within about twenty seconds of meeting them. i know who will last and who won't. i'm quite aware of people who take advantage of my generous nature and disappear in my time of need.

not being able to open up makes it easier for me to have a "professional" side and a, for lack of a better term, an "amber" side. it's always been this way throughout my jobs. there's only been two times where both aspects of myself were combined in a job setting. and that's either because i grew close to someone while working or ended up secretly dating a coworker for nearly the entirety of the position. but - to put the latter into perspective - even though i was with that dude for over a year (despite hardships, resentment, and anger), i barely shared myself with him at all. and that's probably due to the fact that i knew he was wrong for me and we would never last. and also that he told me he loved me like two months into fucking.

let that be a lesson to any potential dudes out there: if you tell me you love me and i'm not ready for it (i, uh, never have been before and have never said it back.. to anyone), it's not going to go over very well. and those words are going to be stuck in my head forever. and you'll probably make me never want to hear them again.

but, if you really want me to share myself with you, i'll give it a shot. as long as i know what i see in you. i've got some crazy stories locked up that are pretty amazing.

2) i dream. a lot. 

before you ask, yes, i've likely had a dream of you and yes, at one point (or another) it was probably sexual. this happens a lot, with people i know and people i don't. i dream about everything and everyone i've ever met as well as those people i've never actually met yet.

if i do dream of you in a sexual way and remember it, it stays in my head for days, weeks, months, years.. depending on how good it was. and i might act a little strange around you for awhile. but not all of my dreams are sexual, i assure you. i dream about my teeth falling out, about having to go back to high school, missing deadlines, work stuff, people i care about getting hurt, and occasionally, me getting hurt. i've died in a dream once - or what i'm sure was meant to be me dying. i woke up immediately after i died. i dream about throwing up or other people throwing up around me and i wake up feeling extremely nauseous. a few days before my hospital visit for a kidney infection, i had a dream i went to the doctor and they told me i had a "self-inflicted STD" -- whatever that means. i guess i should listen to my dreams sometimes.

i dream about people i've never met but interacted with. these dreams are usually vivid and have strange things happening in them. i dream about twitter. i dream about texting. i dream about exes. i dream about potential dudes and exes getting into fights somehow. i dream about fucking my ex and 2 of his roommates (though, not together). i dream in colour. if i'm outside in a dream, there's normally snow on the ground. for months, i had a dream about one of my twitter followers of which i've never actually met. but i never told him about it because it would be weird.

although not nearly as bad as JD, my mind occasionally day dreams, too. this is usually when my mind wanders after a sexy dream i remembered and it's all i can think about for most of the next day. all those times where i've just stopped what i was doing and kind of gaze off and don't answer? yeah, believe me - i'm somewhere i don't ever want to come back from.

so, there you have it. i've shared two things and i'm content. this might be a new, ongoing blog post theme. because i can. and there's plenty more where that came from.

it's natural to be afraid

i would never complain about being single.

i'm convinced people who actually complain about being single are those who find themselves to be lonely. and that is something i am not.

in the last few weeks, i've had a couple of friends comment on how i have nothing going on and that it "doesn't seem like me". what they fail to realize is that, well, this is not news. i haven't had anything going on in quite some time and i've lost the motivation to do anything about it.

but, if we're being completely honest here: it doesn't bother me.

for those of you in relationships, let me remind you how terrible it is to be a single girl in a dating world:

1) dudes are fucking creepy - both online & offline
2) dating is hard work - "put yourself out there" uhhh, no thanks
3) making time to date is difficult
4) where do you pick up dudes? the bar? the subway? the street corner? (oh.. i can't.. those are women)
5) online dating is mostly just met with creeps and dudes who are seriously fucked up (yes, i'm also creepy and fucked up - but we'll get to that)

so.. yes. it's no wonder i don't have a lot going on right now. i troll creepy dudes online. i rarely meet cute dudes that i'm attracted to who aren't fucked up or there's something about them that i don't like. i don't have the time or the energy to go out every so often and try to take somebody home with me; i'm in bed most nights by 9pm because i'm a fucking old lady.

i just feel as though i lost a significant part of me - the part that used to be amazing with flirting with dudes/taking them home/making something happen. and i don't know if that's just disappearing because i'm growing up or because i'm preoccupied with other things. i've lost the ability to multi-task with a life, friends, and dudes. and that's probably for the best.

don't get me wrong, i haven't been completely "out of it" - there are a few very, low-key, nearly exciting dudes in my life that i see occasionally. but these are hardly worth mentioning to anyone since i'm barely getting involved as it is. and some that should probably be thrown away all together.

i'm okay with the way that things are, for now. i know there are some things i need to figure out before i can get involved with anyone. i know that eventually, i'll have to let my guard down and let somebody in. i know that someday, i'll have to function in a real relationship with someone i care about and actually share the majority of myself with them, which is something i already have trouble doing. i know that i'll meet someone who my friends approve of and consider him to be the best of the best, since my friends care about me that much. i know that i'll be with someone who can respect my boundaries and life choices, as those aren't going to change, despite what people might say and think. 

but until all of the above are understood, i'm content with my dude situation. however, there's always room for improvement.

complications of a medical nature

you might remember how i've been battling a kidney infection for about 2 weeks. it hasn't been fun, i can assure you.

after i missed 3 days of work in one week, went to work for one day, and then had my first vacation day - this week was a lot more difficult getting back into the swing of things. i took a vacation day on friday sept 13th to go home & do home things, like go to the dentist and get a haircut. i spent the entire weekend laying low and trying to get better.

i was trying to find the best way to take the pills they gave me but every time i tried to take them, i got really anxious/nervous because they were so awful. it's not like me to be this way when it comes to, well, anything. they couldn't be chewed. they couldn't be swallowed, even when cut in half. i tried to cut them into 4s but then they were jagged as fuck and not any easier. i smashed them up and put them into water/juice.. nope.. still tasted too awful. i couldn't win. at times, i was only taking half or 75% of a pill because the rest just wouldn't be allowed into my body. i figured this was better than not taking them, i suppose.

work this week was busy, as usual, and i did my best to keep up. that's when i noticed on wednesday when i got back to the office: my skin had broken out into a rash. i thought maybe it was just on my arms and hands. i thought i touched something on my way back from lunch and reacted to it. i noticed my face felt extremely hot and burnt. when i looked in the mirror, it looked like i had been on the beach for 9 hours. i was outside at lunch for maybe 10-15 minutes that day. something was up. i did what i could to hide the rash from my coworkers and finished out the day. when i got home, i noticed that the rash was all over my body but was only slightly itchy in parts. i've never had anything like this before, so i figured it would go away by the next day. looking at the side effects of the antibiotics, it said that i might experience red, blotchy patches and a sensitivity to sunlight - but to consult a doctor if it happens.

i woke up the next morning and it was still prominent. ugh. i sent an email to my boss and told him i'd be going to the walk in clinic. at 9am, i admitted myself to the walk-in clinic and waited for a doctor who told me that it's very common to have an allergic reaction to this type of antibiotics. what was uncommon was having an allergic reaction 9 days into antibiotics that last for 10 days. fuck you, body. so, she told me to take an allergy pill and it should go away. by saturday, it did.

okay, i've had enough of this "being sick" thing. can i go back to being healthy now?

my first toronto hospital experience

it's been a rough few days.

work had been so hectic last week. on friday, i wasn't sure what to do for lunch, so i went to a food court and picked up some chinese food to eat at my desk through lunch. it just so happened that HBC was promoting "free lunch fridays" and bought me my food. that was swell of them. i ate most of it pretty fast.

a few hours later, i was having intense stomach pain. oh good. the chinese food and my tummy are battling it out. i was not impressed. i left work early and came home to the next 4-5 hours of being seriously nauseous. i had food poisoning earlier in february, and that was not fun. plus, i had one other day in march i think, where i was so hungover all day & i didn't even drink that much.. but must have been the mix of wine & beer.

anyway, saturday, i still felt like crap. not overly nauseous but crappy enough. by sunday, i was starting to feel a little better but still had some minimal stomach pain. sunday night, the pain was so severe that i couldn't sleep and could barely move. yep, it was time to go to the hospital. at 2am, i left my place and hailed a taxi who took me so st. mike's. i was registered and waiting by 2:30am. by 3am, i was in a hospital bed and things were moving relatively quickly. they took some bloodwork, a urine sample, and i had a variety of doctors and nurses come by to check me out and see how i'm doing. they gave me some tylenol 3's for the pain and my in-and-out fever.

sometime after 5, the majority of the tests had come back and were all negative so they decided to keep me overnight for an ultrasound in the morning. i tried to get some rest as they stapled the guy's skull who was in the room next to me. that's something i could've done without hearing. at 6:30am. they moved me to a new room and a comfier bed where i was supposed to sleep because it was quieter, except it wasn't. at 8am, i was being prepped by a nurse for my ultrasound, and shortly after 9am, i had my first (and hopefully last) ultrasound.

fancy new IVs

i'll admit, i was really scared at this point. i was in a lot of pain, high on tylenol 3's, cold, anxious, nervous, nauseated, and not only was it my first time in a toronto hospital, but it was my first time in any hospital alone. prior to this was my case of appendicitis in 2008.. and man, have we come a long way in technological medical advances since then! for instance, the fancy new IVs? yeah, in 2008, i had to be hooked up to one of those wheely carts. now i could walk freely around!

by 10am, i was back in my hospital bed waiting patiently for my results. a new nurse came by and started talking to me. she told me i looked okay and that sometimes, it's nothing. i think she knew how scared and nervous i was. she really helped ease my fear. i was also sleepless at this point, so i'm sure that didn't help.

around 11am, a new doctor came to see me and told me that everything on the ultrasound was normal, healthy, & functional. but that my urine sample was positive for a bladder infection/kidney infection, so he'd put me on antibiotics for 10 days. i'm relieved.

what i had was something treatable! they gave me a pill, some water & juice, a cheese sandwich to eat, and my prescription, but didn't tell me i could leave. before i had even finished my sandwich, an orderly had come by to change my bed. uh, i guess i can leave then? i asked around to make sure.. and i did. maybe you should be clearer in your communication to me, rather than just handing me some stuff and leaving, without saying anything.

i noticed right away that the pill had taken the stomach pain away. i felt better for most of the day and took another pill before bed. on tuesday morning, i woke up and felt.. okay. not great. i took a pill and went about my getting ready for work routine. but when i got to work, i felt like absolute shit. i lasted 2 hours and came home to my back being super sore. i tried a couple of tylenol, but that didn't help and made me feel nauseous. i was in and out of fever & chills all afternoon. sometime after 6pm, i fell asleep and woke up after 8 feeling much better and less nauseous. i took another pill and went to bed, but didn't sleep that great.

instead of bothering to go to work today, when i woke up, i still felt like crap. i took a pill and felt better. i've been able to eat today and somehow managed to do laundry and clean the kitchen. but now i'm beat and feel a fever. it could also just be this heat. y'know, 43 degrees in september. it figures i'd be sick on the hottest days of the year.

i'm alive and stuff. for those of you who were with me through this entire wild ride, thanks! you definitely made my toronto hospital visit a better experience.

2 years of toronto livin'

today's the day that i've officially lived in toronto for 2 years. 2 years!

where did the time go?

i finished two post-grads. i finished 3 unpaid internships. i worked a conference. i met lots of new and interesting people. i hooked up with dudes. i dated dudes. i broke off things with dudes. dudes broke off things with me. i lost some people. i grew closer with others. i found places in the city that i enjoy and places in the city that i can't stand. i watched as friends everywhere started new chapters of their lives or stayed completely the same. i got a job break: 1 year & 11 months into living in toronto.

and i really couldn't be happier with the choices and decisions i've made in the last 2 years because they've all shaped me into a better person, one way or another.

this is also the first time since kindergarten where it's september and i'm not going back to school. that's a strange feeling. but it's about time, i guess.

i'm celebrating a lot of things tonight. my 2 years in toronto. a good friend visiting for the weekend. another friend who got married today. and one more who's leaving for france to start his masters. these are all exciting times for everyone involved. we're all getting older and moving into new phases of our lives. it's hard to believe that in a month from now, i'll be 25. i know that i've accomplished a lot in my short little life and i'm looking forward to the next 25 years!

here's to many more exciting toronto years to come!