Tag Archives: romance

this is a thing…?

It has been a WHILE since I went to the TIAT file on this blog, but, I’m feeling rather happy of late and excited for the Royal wedding for some reason or another- SO!- for that forgetful groom or bride to be… yes, this is a thing:

https://www.independent.co.uk/life-style/premier-inn-wedding-vending-machines-resizeable-ring-flip-flops-gift-a8336951.html

Here’s hoping neither Harry nor Meghan will need it on Saturday. Although that would make me SO happy to see that happen…

xo.

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only me.

Hello, friend…

I’m in Montreal for the weekend, back in my hometown, telling jokes and dining on the BEST eats with family (pro tip: when dining out, make sure one of your family members is a chef and knows the chef of where you’re eating- because… ohmylord, I’m being treated like a Queen!!).

Anyway. So last night, at a gig I had, this nice looking guy offers me a drink and we talked a little, and he got me another drink and it was really lovely! He asked what my plans were while I was in town, I told him about my other show, he invited me to a party… amazing, right? Right. So he takes my number, calls me so I have his number and we part ways. I am on cloud nine. (Literally- there was a lot of pot being smoked at this gig.)

And I get in the car. And I check my phone to add his number. And my heart sinks.

He clearly hung up when calling me too quickly because I NEVER GOT HIS PHONE NUMBER. My phone had no missed calls. Why didn’t I check it as he called me and not simply assume all was well??!!!

NEVER ASSUME, FRIENDS. NEVER.

It just makes an ass out of u and me.

seinfeld-saying-newman-meme-1432838940

 

xo.

confidence

Hello, friend…

What a day it’s been. You see, along with writing & stand-up & filmmaking… I also work in bakery. And today, man, you’d think at the first signs of winter here in Toronto folks were thinking they had to stock up for the next few months… we were slammed. Which is great! For any business, especially a small one, you want that much foot traffic. And for the most part, everyone was super to deal with today which is awesome. (Though I could really deal with less of watching couples making out in front of me. It’s like, cool… you’re in love… you are so stoked we have cinnamon buns that you feel the need to make a baby in front of me…. but please, just order something and then rip each other’s clothes off. Pleaseandthankyou.)

At the end of the night, as I closed up, I went to the washroom and I smiled at myself in the mirror. Sure, I felt as tired as hell, but I looked good! I’ve not worn much, if any, make-up for a month or so now… not for any empowerment reasons… I actually haven’t had the money to replenish stuff… ANYWAY. I just caught a smile in my eyes or something, mostly because my teenage self would NEVER have permitted herself to leave the house without LAYERS of make-up on. I had cystic acne as a teenager… my skin wasn’t soft, it was speed bump city.

And I wanted to hiiiiiiiide. And now… well, you better like me for me or you can leave. 🙂

It makes me laugh a little, just at how my teen years were spent in a fight between figuring out who I was and how to get as far away from her as possible. I wanted to be older, I wanted to live in Florida, I wanted to be SOMEBODY, anybody other than who I was. And that was LONG before I’d know what social media was. (And for that reason alone I want to hug every teen in the world right now, I do not know how you find peace amongst all that noise. I’d be a MESS if I was 16 nowadays.) Granted, I still judge myself more than I should… whenever those life markers pop up in my head and I compare myself to others. Who are married, have stable incomes, have families… I question at times why that isn’t me. And then I yell at myself “Because that’s not supposed to be you right now! Jeebsus!”

(Insert Cher slapping Nic Cage in Moonstruck here. Snap Out of It!!)

Being 39 these days, actually, being 39 and single these days isn’t easier either. Online dating is my Achilles heel. But last night, watching the good egg that is Nick Offerman at Shea’s in Buffalo, he said that when he met the woman who’d become his wife he was doing some work on a theatre they’d soon be performing in. He was in his element and whatever light that came from him, must have caught her eye. He championed NOT trying to find love online, but in doing what you love … that way you’ll really connect with someone.

The man’s got a point.

When I’m in my element… I can feel it, that glow.

Confidence is a good thing, ain’t it?

Hmm… maybe a Tinder break is needed. I just did “Sober October”, maybe I can make… um… “No-Online Dating- Vember” a thing. (I will work on that title.)

 

xo.

online dating is fun!

Hello, friend…

Not gonna lie, this GIF is a pretty accurate description of my feelings towards online dating these days:

 

 

Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee….. (clunk)

Oh. I’ll be fine. 🙂

xo.

glasses

Hello, friend…

I am feeling the sting tonight of having met someone recently, but learning he has a lady after that feeling of “OOH! I like you!!” got settled into my belly rather nicely. In the words of one Charlie Brown, “good grief”. Once again, like Charlie, I’ve missed the football and landed on my back in pain. (The ego taking the brunt of the bruising.) But the GOOD part of it all is that I have made an awesome new friend and I truly mean that! I’m sad he’s not single, but I’m definitely glad we’ve met. He’s the coolest guy.

So! Here I am back to that game of trying to figure out which box is covering the baseball. (Occasionally, a drunk homeless guy is under one of the boxes but he tells me I’m pretty & that gives me enough pep in my step to keep looking.)

This weekend, as I sat in the waiting room of a tattoo shop in Toronto, across from me sat a guy and a girl who I thought were a couple given the body language but it soon became clear he was there to be a good friend and support her as she got tattoo number one. I was trying not to listen too closely to their conversation, but at one point she talked about her boyfriend and how “he challenged her”, but “in a good way, it’s good stress”. I wanted to ask her, “Do you really want that, though?” And I also thought of “SO WHY ISN’T HE HERE INSTEAD OF THAT GUY SITTING NEXT TO YOU WHO CLEARLY IS INTO YOU!?”

I’m guilty of it, not seeing something that was CLEARLY there, until it was too late. Or telling myself “it’s not SO bad with him” when really, I deserved better. My proverbial glasses weren’t on or, I was wearing those damn rose-coloured ones. (long sigh) ANYWAY. I hope that girl survived her first tattoo, and I keep hoping that one day I’ll finally kick that damn football.

xo.

KAZ

 

 

places

Hello, friend…

Last night/this morning in Toronto was the annual “arty thingy” known as nuit blanche (white night, basically the city being illuminated)… I had no plan on attending to be honest, in chatting with my gal Virtue over brunch (we have been friends since 1st Grade, though we lost touch for years before re-connecting over a random phone call she made to a friend of mine) we agreed that we had simply reached that age of being “too old” for an all-nighter on the streets of Toronto. Age has been coming up a lot lately for me, I work at a bakery now and am a good 10 years older than a good lot of my co-workers. A few customers have asked me if I’m the owner, so I called one of them out on it a few days ago. This lady told me “well, you’re more mature than most of the people I see here”. Uh… thanks? I think?

Personally, I don’t feel 10 years older than most of them. Hell, I still think I have the vim and vigour of my 22 year old self most days! And then I have 2 glasses of wine and I am sooooooooooooo tired. And druuuuuuuuuuunk.

The long way to my point here is that I DID attend nuit blanche despite my 38 years on the planet! I was out with the most delightful company, and not wanting the evening to end I suggested that we go scope out the nuit. He agreed and off we went. Right before we headed out though, conversation had gone into the land of what to do with stuff you got from your ex or bought with them. I have received them in an unmarked box at my front door, the relationship equivalent of a suspicious package. (Where one then should call in your closest girlfriends to inspect the package- and not open it by myself like I did.) He told me that he opted to leave everything with her, necessity being the biggest factor as he was moving across the country. After all, things hold memories just as much as places do. Once daylight hits you see the spot from the romantic night before either fondly or with regret. You walk by that item he or she purchased for you and time travel to the intent in which it was given.( It is 100% time travel, thankyouverymuch.)

I suggested we head first to the building in which we met about  eight years ago, which was also an exhibit, and off we went. Weaving  in and out, amidst an amount of people only seen when the subway breaks down. In finding our former office, seeing how it had changed I had mentally gone into my time travel machine to recall friends since passed (I miss you, Elan!!) and moments where the boy I was dating at the time surprised me at work. I said hello to the sink where I used to wash the office dishes in the communal area. (No, I actually said Hello to it.) The job wasn’t the right fit for me, and I wasn’t there for long, but I formed friendships in that building that are teflon-like. So to walk its halls again was fascinating.

My company for the night hadn’t been with me in that space for at least eight years. I couldn’t have imagined then that we’d ever be there again. Together. Absolutely not. But life is funny that way.

We eventually found ourselves in the courtyard, surrounded by people and a man operating a film project. An actual “old timey” film projector, like the ones I could operate in grade school. (*high five to my AV Club peeps!*) We were all there, under the foggy night sky watching old 60s music promotional “videos”. Collectively time traveling to a time a fair number of us never lived in (save for the man operating the film reel). Watching a woman we thought was Patty Duke sing, until time travel helped with that Shazaam app of its to prove us wrong. Nope, it was Kay Starr! (I’ve linked to the song below & the video we watched last night.)

Off we went, down the steps past where that boy I was dating at the time met me for what I thought was going to his place to watch TRON but ended up being his taking me to dinner at the Rivoli and dumping me while the waitress took our drink order… sorry. Anyway. Off we went down the steps, and into the night.

Everything is always evolving to some degree, right?

Sure. Some places stay the same, but the people change.

And some people stay the same but the places change.

But every now and then we reconnect for a few magic moments… at at time traveller’s rest stop if you will, before we all move along once again and head off into the night.

xo.

headknocks & broomsticks

Hello, friend…

These past couple of weeks have been an interesting one. I knocked my head at work (I’ve taken a part time job at bakery and it’s fabulous… though I may need to start telling myself I’m allergic to tahini in order to stop myself from inhaling every single tahini cookie crumb I spot ). ANYWAY. I bumped my head and as a result was put on bed rest for 5 days. I wasn’t allowed to do much of anything but meditate.

Now, as someone who has had anxiety and panic attacks since the age of 10, keeping my mind calm is not something I’ve been very good at…BUT it’s something I’ve been working on.  And those 5 days proved to be something quite wonderful, minus the mild head trauma mind you. There is something so very healing when you just sit and listen to yourself, being still… though I question why I decided it was a good idea when I could look at a screen again that I re-join Tinder but anyhoo…. Why not re-join Tinder, Kelly?! Online dating is such fun! It’s like playing “will it float”* with your love life!

(*Oh, I miss David Letterman.)

And Tinder has already proved to be a plethora of fun Q&A’s, like “what are your three favourite body parts on a man?” So, thanks mild concussion! Super fun times on Tinder lay ahead I’m sure.

But as much as it hurt, perhaps there was something necessary that happened there. As my friend/massage therapist/healer/awesome lady told me, perhaps it was my body trying to get me to focus on myself.

Perhaps I haven’t been doing a very good job of that lately.

Perhaps it was my body’s way of telling me “there’s a lot of material in online dating, Kelly- you should get back on Tinder.” :/

Ugghh… fiiiiine.

xo.