So, this morning while my Ukrainian cleaning lady, Ola, was at my home she stood straight up and looked at my mother and said very confidently and in her thick Ukrainian accent: “Your daughter is looking very old and mature. She marry soon. You’ll see. Like my Sasha.” (Sasha is her daughter.. Well I think her name is Sasha anyways) I, of course, was upstairs while all of this was happening and actually laughed out loud. I can only imagine what my mother’s face looked like, not to mention what her reply to that was….
I wonder if there is some sort of Ukrainian 6th sense.. She seemed pretty convinced that it was going to happen soon though. Well awkward… Maybe I’ll marry a Ukrainian man.
New piece of info about my life: My family is up and moving to Bermuda from a city in good ol’ Merica, so my Dad is constantly traveling to and from Bermuda. Exciting, eh? Anyways, my Dad came home late last night and he takes me out to breakfast this morning and told me all about moving everything over there.
First things first: He had to move all of our pets to the little island. We just have a cat and two dogs. The dogs were fine they just went with all the other checked luggage basically. The cat, on the other hand, had to travel in a soft carrying case with my dad. My dad was thrilled about that because 1) the case is pink and 2) the cat constantly cries and meows when he’s in there.
So, my father, at 5:30 in the morning was walking through the airport in a suit carrying a pink case that is constantly meowing. … I’m sure he was thrilled.
Anyways, the plane takes off and at some point during the flight the cat just stops crying. My poor dad was thinking (praying) that the cat’s silence was good… WRONG. The cat had actually stopped crying because he had, oh how shall I put this, fully and completely relieved himself right next to my father on the plane. My dad, of course, didn’t notice this until he was getting off of the plane when an airline attendant commented on the seat next to my dad being wet and then my dad discovered that the cloth carrying case was also soaked through with cat pee… Then (just when my dad thought that it couldn’t get worse) he goes to put his arm into his sport coat and his whole arm is suddenly wet… (Lord, please excuse my father for the string of words that came out of his mouth).
So now picture my dad walking through an airport in a suit carrying a dripping pink case that has once again resumed meowing (which I’m sure just sounded more like a loud and desperate whine (cat owners, you know what I mean)) and holding his wet jacket (not to mention how he probably smelled) (double not to mention him muttering under his breath).
Bottom line: Cats are not cut out for air travel.
Of course it didn’t help when I said “poor cat” when my dad told me this story, but he’ll be able to laugh about it later… right?
Right.
Later that week I did something that I’ve wanted to do for over a year: visit a psychic. On my way to musical rehearsals, after I would pick up one of my best friends, we would always drive past a psychic right by his house and every time I would mention that I want to stop by. Finally we did… Him, my best friend, and myself al went to get our tarot cards read.
For those of you who have gone to a psychic its pretty fun (if you believe in all that stuff, which I do (obv)). The gypsy woman takes you into a dimly lit room filled with jewel colored stuff. You are then instructed to shuffle a rather large deck of cards and then to split them into three piles.
It’s a pretty simple task, but it feels as though this shuffling and splitting up will decide your future. What if one card determines whether you will marry Ryan Reynolds (Sorry Blake) or anyone other than Ryan Reynolds.
Anyways, so I do this and she flips over some cards (I’m sure they learn what cards to flip over in psychic gypsy school). Then she begins to tell me my future:
She tells me that I will marry someone in finance J, that I will have one daughter with my hair color J, that I will move 3 more times in my life J, that I don’t know my husband yet (thank Christ), and that I should avoid red cars… She felt very strongly about the red cars. She said it’s like the opposite of a good luck charm. Obviously, I’m superstitious, so obviously I will never associate myself with a red car for the rest of my life.
It was pretty cool and pretty fun.
I wonder if what she said will be true (fingers crossed for a honey in finance $$$)
Now, I’m about to move back over to Antigonish, Nova Scotia and start my summer in Canada land and, of course, meet my husband in finance.
BUT before I do that I have another crazy story from the ex-boyfriend archives:
After the whole Jason debacle I jumped right back into the dating world.. how else would you say it?
Oh ya! I got a rebound man…
This one still nerdy, but more handsome. Had a crazy Mom, but had a big house and a pool (I’m not a gold digger, but it doesn’t hurt).
He wasn’t too bad.
BUT he was boring as hell and a virgin.
The virgin thing wouldn’t have been a big deal IF he wasn’t a rebound boyfriend (SEX IS NEEDED).
Basically we dated the summer before we both went to university (stupid, I know).
I ended up taking his virginity one drunken night in Wisconsin Dells in a tent, where we popped the air mattress. Super romantic for him… NOT. Really fun for me… YES.
His mom was super nuts too. I have a tree nut allergy and we all went out for dinner and she practically made me announce my allergy to the whole restaurant. She was also a shopaholic and liked to take me shopping a buy me pretty dresses (I think this was because she had three sons, none of which really wanted to shop with her). She was just really intense and super crazy Italian mom styled person.
This guy also wasn’t a huge drinker/ partier, and, of course, I kind of am….
So I go off to StFX and he heads off for Alabama university, and we both promise that we are gonna make it work. I promised even thought I knew that we had no chance. Which is real mean I know.
I get to StFX and for the first few weeks it was kind of nice to have someone I knew I was going to skype with at the end of the night and stuff. But here’s the thing: StFX’s frosh welcome week is booze filled craziness with crazy fun events every night for about a week straight. So when I would skype him at the end of the night I was still loaded, sweaty and filled with pizza from The Wheel (my true love). And as much as he wanted to be with me I knew he didn’t like or approve of my new lifestyle.
Keep in mind he was over in Alabama in the honours business program while doing volunteer work missions on the side. He was straight as an arrow, had his life set out straight, and was BORING AS HELL.
So me and this guy keep it up for about a month into school where we sent cute love letters and skyped almost everyday.. I know I’m a fucking bitch for stringing him along, but it felt like I was in too deep and he was literally in love with me…. Fucking virgins I tell you…
We kept it up until I met Matt on one drunken Friday night…. BUT that is for my next post, so stay tuned my friends.
(Sorry for ending this so abruptly)
Oh Ya! I almost forgot what I learned out of the boring boy story.. Be honest with yourself both for your sake and your boyfriend’s sake, because it’s just as unfair for both people if you aren’t in it fully and are stringing it right along. Also, rebounds are better as one night stands, or friends with benefits.. AKA virgin boyfriends make for bad rebounds.
Anyways xoxox
Until next time.
university miss 