Eat Your Heart Out

Ok so I sent a message in a vacuum to see if my X wanted to celebrate Passover/Easter weekend together,eat some really nice food, (I was all too willing to prepare with the help of my personal assistant), sample some wine (four glasses preferbly but more if necessary), eat some sweets including me(food and sex go hand in hand for me)...hahaha, tell some funy silly stories even laugh at ourselves and just relax in general. My X has as much manners as a pig in his sty. He doesn't reply. When he does he uses the same format I use only because I remain convinced that he is a coward and lacks the substance to articulate clearly his expectations, needs wants and desires. Calling me is just way out of his relm. What did I ever see in him? What do I see now? Last evening at a dinner party I made mention of his name to someone I trust more than my mother for g-dsakes and without warning WHAM she slaps me with who is this guy? Before I could say one full sentence - she stops me dead in my tracks and says "You're not seeing him, we're going for a run instead - that is a dead issue, leave that alone it does not concern you anymore, forget it, do not call him ANYMORE, wtf is wrong with you she said, don't you get it - it's fucking over over over." So after a funfilled evening she drove me home. The drive was short, but the silence bore holes through me. I checked my messages to see if he replied to my offer to spend some Q time with me breaking bread. Ofcourse there was no response. I dry my eyes and head off to bed. Today I woke early with several things on my mind. 1) I knew I need to be alert for the confrence call that I was going to be having with my tutor and my Prof. at 8:30 a.m to iron the strategy for my upcoming final exam this week. 2) I was really hoping to get a message saying "Yes I think its a great idea to bread bread and drink some wine" but just as my pragmatic mind told, do not hold your breath you will die from the lack of air. For some it’s easier to accept than others. But I don’t think anyone enjoys being ignored. It's like a death occured.  The first few days I cried my heart out. I let out all of my negative feelings, and do almost nothing more all day than to "think about him". Whenever I try to slip in a positive thought, I’ll disregard it right away. It’s my privelege to be sad just a few days a year. Initially I thought it really important in this phase is that you don’t talk to anyone about the break up. At least not more than something like “we’re not together anymore”. I stopped listening to the radio, unplugged the television, because that will fuck with your emotions, and I was already fucked up so why bother.So I just let myself be as sad as I could, without talking to anyone, and without getting feelings from anyone else other than myrself(very important). I got to the point where I was sick thinking about him. I started realizing that he wasn’t "the one" for me, and that I have my whole life waiting, along with millions of cute guys. But the tricky part is the mind has a way of playing tricks on you. I did allow my human instint to get in the way after spending time ridding myself of the emotional baggage that came with this relationship.  I was fluctuating backwars and forward each day, but the crying is over. My heart has harden to its reality. Soon, I’ll meet another guy, twice as nice, and it’s all uphill from here with joy and happiness. So in conclusion I am taking my gal-pal advice and leave this alone. I am going to spend the weekend studying and will be cooking a feast for my girls. Besides they love and care for me. Added bonus, they love my cooking and they tell me so with all the ooos and ahhhhs, but they always ask when will we do this again. Life’s strange isn’t it?


Cheers

...Season of Our Liberation

The eight-day festival of Passover is celebrated in the early spring, from the 15th through the 22nd of the Hebrew month of Nissan. It commemorates the emancipation of the Israelites from slavery in ancient Egypt. And, by following the rituals of Passover, we have the ability to relive and experience the true freedom that our ancestors gained. So the story goes …After many decades of slavery, during which time the Israelites were subjected to backbreaking labor and unbearable horrors, G d saw the people's distress and sent Moses to Pharaoh with a message: …"the ten devastating plagues, afflicting them and destroying everything from their livestock to their crops. While doing so, G d spared the Children of Israel, "passing over" their homes—hence the name of the holiday. The resistance was broken, and he virtually chased his former slaves out of the land. The Israelites left in such a hurry, in fact, that the bread they baked as provisions for the way did not have time to rise. Many thousands of adult males, plus many more woman and children, left Egypt on that day, and began the trek to Mount Sinai and their birth as G d's chosen people. Thus Passover is divided into two parts. 1) The first two days and last two days (that commemorate the splitting of the Red Sea) are full-fledged holidays. Holiday candles are lit at night, and Kiddush and sumptuous holiday meals are enjoyed on both nights and days. We don't go to work, drive, write or switch on or off electric devices. We are permitted to cook and to carry outdoors. b) The middle four days are called Chol Hamoed, semi-festive "intermediate days," when most forms of work are permitted. To commemorate the unleavened bread that the Israelites ate when they left Egypt, we don't eat or even retain in our possession any "chametz" from midday of the day before Passover until the conclusion of the holiday - any food or drink that contains even a trace of wheat, barley, rye, oats, spelt or their derivatives and wasn't guarded from leavening or fermentation. This includes bread, cake, cookies, cereal, pasta, and most alcoholic beverages. Moreover, almost any processed food or drink can be assumed to be chametz unless certified otherwise. Ridding our homes of chametz is an intensive process. It involves a full-out spring-cleaning search-and-destroy mission during the weeks before Passover, and culminates with a ceremonial search for chametz on the night before Passover, and then a burning ceremony on the morning before the holiday. Chametz that cannot be disposed of can be sold to a non-Jew for the duration of the holiday. Seders which really the highlight of Passover observed only on the first two nights of the holiday. The Seder is a fifteen step, family oriented, tradition and ritual packed feast. The focal points of the Seder are:

• Eating matzah.

• Eating bitter herbs—to commemorate the bitter slavery endured by the Israelites.

• Drinking four cups of wine or grape juice—a royal drink to celebrate our newfound freedom.

• The recitation of the Haggadah, a liturgy that describes in detail the story of the Exodus from Egypt. The Haggadah is the fulfillment of the biblical obligation to recount  mostly to your children the story of the Exodus on the night of Passover.

There's much more but I just don't have time but the central idea is there... Happy Passover! Happy Easter!

STUDYING IS FOR PEOPLE WHO NEED TO GET THEIR PRIORITES STRAIGHT #2

Guess what I am doing at the moment, come on it’s not that difficult. Oh come on guess. It’s in the title for Pete’s sake. Fine then if you aren’t going to guess then I have to tell you. I am studying, otherwise known as the most boring activity this side of the Galaxy unless there exists a planet on our side of the galaxy where a commonly engaged activity is to repeat the word boredom to oneself for 8 hours straight. So I’m studying you ask, what’s the big deal we all had to do it when we were at school, that or you are still at school. The point is that studying sucks, not in particular that it sucks for me. I believe that if you are being asked to learn things which require you to go over it every few months to remember it then clearly you are not cut out for that particular area of study and should be removed from it immediately. That or your teacher sucks.

For the former, I think you should just drop that subject on the spot. Because if the subject holds so little of your interest then, clearly you are not going to go into any field that requires it. But you scream in protest “Einstein failed high school mathematics and look at what he did.” To which I reply AHA. In my opinion if Einstein did poorly in maths at school it probably had something to do with him having a rather unimaginative teacher which didn’t grasp Einstein’s interest in mathematics and all it’s other cousins in the Scientific world. So when Einstein re-examined this stuff in his own time and found he liked it, well then he became good at it very quickly and several years later due to contributions on his part Japan had TWO less cities to manage. So putting aside that maybe having an unimaginative and dull teacher was the universe trying to steer Einstein away from indirectly destroying two cities we can see that if you are good at something then you will probably find interest in it at some point.

Take me as a second example, until about the seventh grade I found English interesting but due to a large quantity of uninspired teachers I lacked understanding in portions of the critical field of punctuation and still to a degree today. But it does not hinder my feeble attempts at writing.

But returning to the topic at hand. Imagine how much happier a place academic institutions would be if lets say you could drop Math in favour of something you enjoyed. Sure we partially get choice in grade 10 but we are still stuck with a few subjects that some of us would rather not do. Computers Science should be made optional is what I’m getting to. Anyway I am going to crawl back to my books and continue studying now...

Philosophical Me

Once again, my little mind has wandered off from reality and into the realm of self-thought. So, I’ve been thinking a lot while people around me assume that I’m daydreaming.

Hahaha! Not true! I don’t daydream, I just think a lot.

Questions without answers, answers without knowing which is true and what not. Dilemma, dilemma, my constant friend… I think I need to make up my mind soon.

Studying has been awefully boring this semester. I was so bored in with some of the reading that I played with musical notes in my head.

Check this out: BORED TO DEATH  - rearranged -; HATED RED BOOT

See how bored I am? Yeah, you get the picture.

Hot Date...4/1/10

My friends and I are having dinner Thursday evening. Not only because they think I 'need' to get a life, but because they also feel I’m wasting my G-d given energy on someone who does not deserve a moment of my time. So my friend Paula, (Paula’s husband Steven) and Joanna (Joanna husband Constantine) collectively got together and planned a dinner party where I am the guest of honour. Since it’s a holiday they seem to feel it’s a great time to throw such a party where all invited guests would have no excuses but just show up. They have told me also that there will be several single suitors to choose from who are daring and want to meet me. Yikes!So now my stomach is doing that churning thing again. Not to mention the flutter of butterflies in my belly causing bouts of nausea. It’s a day away and I’m not sure what to wear. I could sabotage the entire evening and wear sweats, but that would be cheesy, plus my gal pals would not be amused. Apparently it’s going to formal and I was ordered to wear my Saturday best. In other words wear a dress and a smile. The part that I am excited about is not only do both those ladies have fabulous homes but Constantine is an amazing Chef. Food glorious food…sex of the aged…

Now I know many people would agree that dating, especially the first date is about as much fun as having a picnic in a minefield in Afghanistan. For some reason that no-one knows, to prove that we are one step above lowly animals, humans are required to date before choosing their life mate. For many, a date is synonymous with fornicate. Fornicating is a rather fun thing, something I welcome in the right situation. However, the words just rhyme, and don't necessary go hand in hand. Dating is a very painful process for someone like me. While I could decide to remain forever single and just hang out with a group of friends, I do want to eventually be in a permanent relationship. I liken dating to bungee jumping. You get that adrenalin rush when you meet someone new. It's the anxiety...uh...oh, um, maybe I didn't really like dating as much as I thought I did."

Contrary to popular belief, dating is not easier when you are younger, and dating doesn't get any easier as you get older. Let's cut to the chase and get down to the nitty gritty...What exactly is it about dating that I hate so much? Why does the very word fill me many with fear and trepidation? I got it... Maybe it’s because it reminds me of a job interview. That's probably quite close to the mark. I have to be on my best behaviour to try and impress the person across the table from me that I’m the right person for the job as life partner. And it's the same, if they don't like you, you don't get the job. If you don't like them or they make you feel uncomfortable, you don't take the job.

Dating is as uncomfortable as sitting next to a hugely obese man whose ample body overflows from his seat onto yours on a flight from Dubai to Shanghai, where if he isn't snoring loudly he's farting silently, and every time he lifts an arm you almost pass out from the reek of his armpit. Also its uncomfortable because you're having to move out of your comfort zone and enter unchartered territory and is an extremely daunting. I hate not knowing. Unless I become a psychic or a clairvoyant, I just will not get this knot out of my gut. And if I did know, then where is the anticipation or the surprise? Sometimes you have to just go with your gut instinct and take a chance. More often than not, I can't be bothered to share myself with anybody again. Yeah, yeah, same old, same old. It does get tiring telling the same stories and relating the same incidents over and over again. It is de-motivating to open yourself up again to someone, and risk them abusing your trust and all that openness was for nought.

Oh yeah I hate waiting for the phone to ring for a follow-up date, even if I don't want to see that person again. I am aware that men hate spending money on a girl and then she doesn't put out. Then not only does he feel he wasted his time, but his money as well. Oh well, I guess they'll just have to get someone who equates a date with sex. They think if they spend all their pocket money on a date then they'll be able to get your leg over your neck. I hate the falseness of it, and people being all fake to try and impress you. This is probably because people are uncertain of what they want, and what you're looking for. They take a gamble on what they think you might like, and try and change to be that person. It would be much better if they were just themselves.

Friends have told me of the mistakes I will never make. For example: "A good date with just a good bonk. They both felt that animal attraction and end up having the most mind-blowing passionate sex on the first date. Then, the guy never calls you back." Obviously, they were just looking to get laid and nothing more.

I console myself with the fact that thus far FATE has intervened and spared me from a probable psychopathic pathologically schizophrenic stalker rapist. Surely I can come up with a multitude of reasons but it is because it's a pain trying to feign interest in learning about someone else who doesn't really interest me. And of course you don't want to appear rude, but who gives a shit why their partner cheated on them and ditched them. So as I was composing this message I was taking stock of some of the irritants of dating, and why I just can't stand doing it....

• I really hate it when I can't get their name right on the first date. Okay, this is a bad mistake to make and maybe I need to make up a silly song with their name in it to get it committed to my memory. Calling a date by the wrong name is a faux pas of the tenth degree. I've done it and I highly do not recommend it especially if you like the date.

• I hate awkward silences when we both try and think of what you can say. If we’re having awkward silences, then we obviously don't have much in common.

• I hate being asked what are you thinking about. Find an online psychic course and you'll be able to tell what I’m thinking. You'll never be able to figure out what I’m really thinking, so why waste your energy trying to read my mind.

• I am never sure if I am reading the signals correctly, like does he want sex on the first date because he is paying for dinner. If he is I need to call my mother and sharpen my Houdini skills and make myself disappear, FAST!

• I never know when I should call him to thank him for a NOT so interesting evening but dinner was great. I just think it's a polite thing to do, especially if the getaway was quick. But if he calls within five minutes of leaving me is tantamount to stalking. And please do not inundate my inbox with text messages because for me that is definite passion killer.

• I hate blind dates, especially when people misrepresent themselves. Buffed body and intelligent can turn out to be geeky and weedy with an IQ the size of a retarded ant. Sometimes, friends misrepresent friends when they set you up on a blind date. There's also a hint of desperation in the whole blind date scenario. If they're so perfect, then why are they resorting to blind dates to get a date? Not that I'm not worthy but think on this for a second...  times up.

• I hate breaking the ice the first time by saying the wrong things and then feeling stupid afterwards. Like saying the most random things and many Freudian slips are made at times like these. I've called a date by my former husbands name...OPPS! Or like him catching me staring at his crotch or him at my mammary glands. Actually if I like the guy I find it sexy when he ogles my body.

• I hate it when other people show an interest in my date and start to flirt with them while I'm  standing right next to them, and your date likes it. If they're basking in the attention like a chimpanzee at a chimpanzee's tea party in the zoo, enjoy it for a New York minute because I will dump you right there and move on. Not classy. Don't do it. At least not with me.

• I hate saying goodbye at the end of the date, not knowing if he’s going to kiss on the cheek or lips or what. I typically go for the European double cheek kiss, and if they want 'lips on the mouth' type of kiss, then they can make the first move and latch onto my lips like there's a magnetic pull of some kind. But I better be feeling you otherwise this could spell rejection.

• I hate it when my date is trying to be funny to impress me and I find it hard to smile or laugh as what they said wasn't at all funny. If you can't make me genuinely laugh, I just dump him. Smiling falsely will give me serious wrinkles and will require me to have expensive plastic surgery in the future.

• I hate it when after dating for a while; my date loses their manners and farts and burps after drinking anything, especially beer. But I’m supposed to be pleased that they feel comfortable enough around me to show me the real deal. It’s offensive. Stop it.

• Dating is exhausting as smiling inanely hurts my face. As mentioned above, it is not good for your complexion and appearance and there will be long-term effects. Maybe a pharmaceutical company needs to develop a 'Dating Tonic' which serial daters can use to boost their body's energy levels.

In my view of the whole thing - dating sucks and I hate the thought of it. I’ve been wondering for some time now, is there another way to meet up with a life partner, other than going through the trials and tribulations of dating? Here's a thought. Let's look at animals, as humans are really just a slightly more advanced form of animal. Take dogs for instance. They don't date at all. When the bitch is ovulating, she gives off a scent that attracts every randy dog in the neighbourhood. She lifts her tail, the dogs sniff her posterior end, get an erection, mount her and bonk away until climax, then leave, never to see her again. Imagine, if we were like dogs. If some perfume factory managed to create a special scent called 'Ovulation Scent.' When a woman knew she was ovulating, she'd spray herself with Ovulation Scent and walk down the street. Soon, males from all over will be following her and only the strongest will get near her. He'd have to sniff her nether regions, whip out his erection and fornicate madly, before zipping up and going back to work. This could do wonders for the motel industry, in case people don't fancy just doing it on the street. Physiotherapists and masseuses will also make a fortune as many men will put their backs out when bending at the waist to sniff a woman. All this increased business - perfume companies, hotels and physiotherapists might also create more job opportunities and ease the global credit crisis. People will be more relaxed - women because they'll only be having sex when they're in the mood, and men - because they'll be getting plenty of action as they'll continually encounter women wearing 'Ovulation Scent.' This could be something to look for in the future.

 I''ll follow up laterif things go according to the above.  However, in an event things turn out GREAT, I will not be back because I never kiss and tell.

Deaf Ears

Ting!

To you, adored one ... Well spring of my loin desire, exquisitely souvenir of all my loves lunacy. Fuck you are one hot sexy thing. Shit - you are my all encompassing sexy things! I couldn't even stop thinking about you all day in my head. I tried to pass on to you that message. 'Jasmine' is a lovely name. A subtle perfume on the air of a warm and humid evening. From a small pink flower with dark green foliage. Perhaps that's the fragrance you can smell right now? Something whispered at me that "he thinks your slippery", and he wouldn't open the note from my trembling heart, trembling like a stabbed bird with my trapped desires for your elicit sweet sweet sugar words. But even I knew it was like some carelessly worded backhanded compliment- you knew what you meant to say. "Damn man - I dig your skinny ass, but bad!"