Love and Other Drugs

K came to visit us this weekend. Well, okay, she came to visit M, but that means she gets to really become immersed in our household. For better or for worse.

Usually, I’m not included in many of the things they do. For the dates, I get it. I don’t want to be there any more than they want me to be there. But for the things they do with friends, it usually takes an invite from K, a mention from our mom, or a very enthusiastic “can I come?!” from me that makes M relent enough to have his little sister “tag along”.

Apparently, I’m still 12. It’s okay. I know I’m hilariously fun to be around. It’s not my fault if no one else sees it.

Anyway, on Friday evening, I went with M and K to the local pub to meet up with M’s best friend, who we will dub D.

Good times were had. Lots of laughs, a few drinks, and then 10 pm rolled around and it was M’s bed time. D had meat deliveries to attend to the next day (and no, he is not a traveling prostitute. His family sells beef. That’s not to say that no jokes were made about D’s “meat”, mostly in the context of M enjoying it. I’m not kidding. It was as though K and I weren’t even there at that point. They were so excited by the innuendo brought upon by this latest development that they literally couldn’t get the jokes out fast enough).

After D and M hugged and said good bye (and D waved at K and I), we began our walk home. At this point, perhaps brought upon by the alcohol, M and K were in their “oh let’s be all lovey and nice to each other” mood.

Awesome.

I walked behind these two lovebirds as they held hands and giggled like 2 fifteen year olds at the beginning of a relationship.

I pretty much wanted to throw up.

They leaned on each other. They gazed into each other’s eyes. They shared private jokes that brought upon soft laughter as they smiled those big stupid smiles that couples share.

I continued to walk alone along the dark street, feeling rather sad for myself and my lack of, well, anyone.

M and K expected this post to be funny in a depressing manner, coloured by my own self deprecation. It kind of is. But then, most of what I write has some sort of depressive factor. It’s just how I do.

Really, though. I’m happy for them. They not only clearly are really into each other, but they also like each other. They’re friends. They have similar senses of humour, they share the same values, and have a lot of the same interests. They’re happy. And that makes me happy.

It’s not everyday that you find someone to be in a relationship with that is also your best friend, and who you know only has eyes for you. Trust is important, but honesty is vital. You don’t want to trust someone who lies. To find that person that you can trust to be honest, that you can laugh with, cry to, and want to spend time with is special. It can’t be taken for granted.

So yes, seeing couples in love is annoying and sometimes vomit inducing. Sometimes they really are grossly sweet to each other. But most of it is jealousy and wanting to find my own someone to share that with, one that I can trust to be honest and know that, at the end of the day, he’s ultimately my best friend.

But M and K? Keep it to a minimum until I find someone, will you?

Thanks a bunch.

Hugs and kisses,

Bella

Oh, and M? Please refrain from the multitude of comments that I know are flooding your brain right now. You can let some of them go. Love you, though.

Always Remembered. Never Forgotten.

I’ve been trying to think of how I can convey my feelings about Remembrance Day and the men and women that fought, and continue to fight, for our country, and have come to the conclusion that I honestly don’t think it’s possible to put those feelings into words.

It’s easy for people to sit back and judge what they don’t know. But it’s not easy to face death every day. It’s not easy to see your friends die. It’s not easy to live with the memories of war for the rest of your life. But our soldiers do it. For us. For you.

How do I accurately articulate my respect for the Canadian military? What can I say that will truly express the gratitude that I feel for the men and women that risked, and lost, their lives for Canadians? How can I communicate the hatred I feel for the people who don’t support the troops, who sit in their warm, safe houses and criticize the very people that allow them to live freely?

I won’t even begin to try. All I can say is thank you.


Thank you to the veterans of past Wars.

Thank you to the veterans and active military personnel of the current war in Afghanistan.

Thank you for putting your lives on the line for the people you love.

Thank you for putting yourselves through unbelievable emotional pain so that we don’t have to.

Thank you for fighting and dying for us.

Thank you for our freedom.


Canadians will forever be indebted to you.

Lest we forget.

A Shout Out to My Work Lovelies

Not everyone gets to work with really great people. Personality clashes make for some seriously tense situations and make 40 hour work weeks feel 100 times longer.

I, however, have always been lucky to work with awesome people, especially right now.

One of those people, E, asked me today why she hasn’t been mentioned in the blog lately. “Do I need to be funnier or something? Because I’m pretty sure that M is in it all the time and he’s pretty mean.”

The girl is actually hilarious. I can’t even tell you what she says, because it’s not like she spews off joke after joke. She just comes up with these one liners that are timed so perfectly that I, on a daily basis, end up laughing so hard that I cry.

I was talking to my grandma the other day about a friend she used to have who would make everyone laugh, put them all in great moods, and just generally make everything fun or brighter in some way. I agreed, telling her how, during boot camp, we had to do the wheelbarrow exercise and E dropped my feet, yelling to the trainers that her wheelbarrow “was broken”.

“She sounds funny,” Grandma commented.

“She really IS!” I try to be as funny as her. It doesn’t always work out that well.

I asked her today what she and JR were talking about so I could reference it here, because listening to those two banter makes me laugh even if I’m not in on the conversation. “Well, we’re generally pretty funny, so you’re going to have to be more specific.” Touche.

In the year and a half that I’ve known her, E has become an amazing friend and confidante. Man problems? Contact E. Feeling blue? E will make you feel better. She’s just awesome all around. Her husband once told her not to “corrupt” me. I’m really glad she did.

Two summers ago, JR worked in a unit close to where E and I were working. We invited him to lunch, saying that we met in the lunchroom. Which is true, we did. (We DID, JR!). He just didn’t know where the lunchroom was, so we never really knew him until about a week before he left to go back to school. When he FINALLY joined us for lunch, we were shocked at how funny he was.

When we found out that he was coming back to work after graduation, we were both really excited. “JR’s coming back?! Oh, awesome! I love him! He’s so cool!” I’m fairly certain that the woman I said this to, and the one who works closest with him, was concerned for him due to my apparent overexcitement at his return.

I honestly don’t think I could get through some days without them here. They’re always there to listen, laugh with, complain to, and get advice from.

But mostly laugh with. Case in point: I’ve just been notified that they will be performing a duet in the talent show here. Their top three picks are Barbra Streisand & Neil Diamond - You Don't Bring Me Flowers, Sonny and Cher - I Got You Babe (with E being Sonny and JR being Cher, obviously), or John Travolta feat. Olivia Newton John - Summer Nights.

This is why they are awesome.

Maybe it seems a little sappy to write about my lovelies from work (except that I was receiving complaints, so I felt it was necessary), but they make work enjoyable. There are no airs about them, no pretenses. I can be myself, and that, above all else, means the most to me.

Heart you both, E and JR!

Hugs and Kisses,

Bella

Devil's Day

Halloween weekend. All Hallow’s Eve.

I hate it.

I like the chocolate part. Obviously. I loved dressing up as a kid and I love seeing the cuties now all dressed up in lion, tiger, and bear costumes. Oh my. (Oh, come on, I couldn’t let that go).

I do not, however, enjoy dressing up nowadays. I’m just not that creative. M loves Halloween. More than Christmas. It’s not for the chocolate, though (it would go straight to his hips). It’s not for the spookiness (he gets scared at nothing. I’m fairly certain K scares less easily than he does). He just loves to dress up (in a completely non-creepy way, let's just clarify that). Every costume he wears, save for his Ron Burgundy one (my personal favourite), shows off his body. He gets into character like no one’s business - I think it's the actor in him. This year, he and K dressed up as Mr and Mrs Smith, dressed in white shirts and underwear. I’m sorry to say that it wasn’t K’s idea to dress in basically nothing. It was all her boyfriend’s.

They looked great, though. K rocked the dark hair, despite being blonde. Hey, K? I hate you a little bit for looking better with dark hair than I do. All said with love.

I digress. For Halloween, I went to visit my bestest, J, as she was FINALLY home from school. As well as being my best friend, she’s pretty much my other half and my non-blood related sister. Not having her just an hour away was horribly lonely. Shout out to J! Love you doll!

(I’m just so full of love right now).

J’s church family gets together every Halloween for a party, playing music and handing out candy and hot chocolate to neighbourhood families. I was lucky enough to join in on the festivities this year, and I even somewhat dressed up (well, I wore a wig, black clothes, and adorned my face with dark makeup. That’s my version of dressing up). My heart melted at the costumes of the younger kids, and stopped when I bumped into a particularly freaky looking costume worn by one of the older kids. I had some great laughs with all of the fantastic people that I know in J’s town. Never have I felt as welcomed somewhere I don’t usually frequent as I do when I visit J and her (biological and church) family.

Once kids started coming around for Halloween treats, I stepped back and watched the kidlets frantically reach for their candy, desperate not to be lost in the fray. I thought about how wonderful it will be when I, one day, have children of my own to dress up in cute costumes and take out trick or treating.

Okay, that’s a bit of a lie.

I watched the Dads. Please don’t judge me. I mean, the kids are cute and everything, but I'm in my 20s. I'm not dreaming of my future kids. I'm ogling the hot Dads, and there are a LOT of young Dads out there that just so happen to be the ones that take the kiddies out. The wives may have been with them, but I didn’t really search for them. The Dads walked by, all doting to their kids, and I was seriously attracted to them.

Okay, it’s not like I would ever pursue a married man, nor would I want to date to someone with a child, per se. I’m just saying that there’s something about seeing a man that’s great with kids that is really attractive. And that’s not a bad thing.

However, I may or may not have smiled at them a little more slyly than would be considered appropriate.

What?

Hugs and Kisses,

Bella