Mall Cops...Think they're S.W.A.T - They're NOT..!

Warning....this is a rant. In case you're thinking that this is going to be one of those fluffy feely blogs with a heart rendering conclusion it's far from it. Insert evil laugh here "Mwah ha ha ha....".

So just the other day I was walking to work and smoking on my way as I generally do. Out of nowhere (literally) this Mall cop stops me and this is how the conversation went.......

MC: Hi.

Nat: Hi.

MC: You're not supposed to be smoking on the sidewalk.

Nat: Oh?

MC: You'll have to move it and walk past the yellow line.

Nat: But that would be walking in the road.

MC: Yes, please move past the yellow line or extinguish your cigarette.

Nat: But what if I get run over in the road? Is it okay for me to sue the mall?

MC: I can't answer that but you need to move past the yellow line miss if you want to continue smoking.

Nat: No-one has ever told me that I can't smoke on the sidewalk and I don't see any signs posted.

MC: I'm telling you now.

Nat (in her mind): Whatcha gonna do mall cop? You gonna get on your little walkie talkie to your other mall buddies eh? Give them some action eh? Rough me up a bit hmmm? Tell all your other buddies at the Mall Cop Annual Convention that you had some serious shit going down at the mall and had to be serious tough guys? You wanna go home and email people about how tough you are beating on an English girl huh?? huh? well do ya?????

Some people get seriously retarded when given too much power and these "RCMP rejects" are no different. They walk around, sorry strut around, wearing a uniform that is simply inappropriate for their day to day tasks. It looks like if we had the next world war they would be more prepared than cockroaches and survive any nuclear explosions with that amazing "stronger than Kevlar" vest.

I'm truly surprised that they don't have cans of mace, cuffs and batons at their side in case of any serious mall offenses such as dropping litter, spitting on the sidewalk or shoplifting occur. Terribly dangerous stuff. I'm wondering how a neanderthal would conduct an interrogation of some unsuspecting fool who just walked through the exit instead of the entrance...would they be banned from the mall entirely??

Here are the requirements that need to be met even before they will look at your resume in order to become a mall cop. You Need:

1. An astronomical sense of self belief..you know, like those cocky people who think they can sing but can't on American Idol and everyone's laughing AT them rather than with them.

2. They have to be living with their mothers - it's a must. Who else is going to pack their lunches?

3. They're the only people that have those fantasy statuettes of naked women holding swords in leather g-strings.

4. Have the Bruce Lee Ultimate Fighters Movie Collection along with their very own set of custom made nunchucks.

5. Have a full years subscription to an online dating service.

6. Have the soundtrack to Roadhouse in their vehicle.

7. Have NOT completed any source of education which means they will do exactly what mall services want them to do...you know, like zombies or better still robots. They don't have souls you see, no emotions.

8. Carry a reasonably inexpensive Maglite to show use of ingenuity and lethal force if required.

If you ever see them in action, they're like "real cops" fluffing round (just made that word up - sounds cool doesn't it) looking important and trying to look serious yet strangely without the powers of detainment.

I wonder why that is???

Probably because they failed the psych test for the cops or weren't fit enough (all those donuts and McD's from the food court eh). Besides if you really think about it, other than a few small infractions, what would they possible do all day except tell people off which let's face it we all got enough off when we were younger.

I really don't need some overweight, understudied oaf telling me where I can and can't walk, smoke or park. Next it will be telling me where and when I can breath or whether I'm permitted to do a no.1 or no.2 in the restroom. Jerks.

Angel...by Me :o)

Wake of the Immortal....Prologue

Prologue

I felt numb...almost transfixed with fear that this was it - this was the defining moment of my life, the moment that this incredible and beautiful creature could walk out of my life forever.

Would he walk away, never to project his overwhelming darkness – my light - over my dreams, never touch my hand with the electricity and fire that I had felt many times before, never to appear in front of me again?

The incredible draw I felt in his presence and the feeling of helplessness in what could come to pass in these few moments both terrified me and captivated me whilst I waited for the most pivotal outcome of my life so far. I was deep in his power, mesmerized and bound to him in ways I had never dreamed possible. Every limb, every muscle in my fragile mortal body screamed at me to run far away but I was frozen to the spot.

I knew that the fight in me was over. It was futile to resist because any such resistance would be met with a brutal promise of pain and suffering. Here he was – perfect, both in body and mind. He was my life and I already knew that any existence without him would be tortuous at best, but inevitably would be the very death that I would so crave if he was gone.

I tried to breath but the air that passed into my lungs stung and burnt my chest from the inside out. I had never looked at breathing as such an integral part of existing. I struggled with the concept so much because we take the air that we breathe for granted. We sub-consciously breathe in and out without any thought process. Without thinking, without moving, it’s there. In and out, in and out.

It had only been a short time since he’d spoken, words of which I had no understanding of, shared no meaning, held no significance to me but had frightened me to my very core.

“I can’t do this anymore” his honey smoothed voice had echoed with an edge that I could neither comprehend nor did I wanted to.

I had since stood facing him, not moving an inch for fear that it would prompt him to speak again to clarify his elusive thoughts, thoughts that I did not know if I wanted to hear or could stand to.
I knew that this silence could not go on forever and sucked in a deep breath to prepare for what would be the shattering of my universe and every detail within.

It wasn’t until I felt a deep cold encroach upon the back of my neck that I realised in my terror to ignore what was going on I had failed miserably with the breathing issue. One of his hands held my waist tightly, possessively, whilst the other was gently cradling the back of my neck as his eyes sought mine. This hardly helped the matter. His eyes were one of the traps that I had always tried to avoid in order to keep my breath paced and even.

“Breathe, will you please breathe Grace?” He ordered tersely. I could not yet tell whether his tone was anxious for my own protection, or rather from his irritation.

I gathered my thoughts intent on not looking into his eyes and focused on the few wisps of air that I could draw from the warm humid night. Little by little, air flowed into my lungs and filled me with the life force that I needed to re-gain composure. His hand slipped from my neck and was now making its way gently down my arm to my elbow as if to steady me further. The hairs stood up on my skin with the electric pulsing through me from his feathery light touch.

I heard him sigh softly, barely audible and knew that this was far from over. The ordeal had not even begun for either of us. There was I, not having contemplated that my lack of oxygen had only stalled the moment. It was inevitable, coming rapid and steadfast as if nothing could slow it, nothing could hinder it.

He waited for what seemed like a lifetime, though it probably would not feel that way to him having been around for a great deal longer than I, to continue.

“Please don’t make this any harder than it has to be” he issued softly with a hint of defeat to his voice.

I felt my pulse race and the second wave of paralysis kicked in. I knew I had to do it. I had to assess him and the only way I would be able to do that was to look at him, his face, those eyes. I needed to see if he was seeing me through the ice cold glare of a killer, a vampire, stony and indifferent or through the unfathomable deep emotional eyes of the immortal angel I had come to recognise within him.

I lifted my head with my eyes shut tight until I felt able and then opened them. My face was within inches of his which took me by surprise. I think it was a visible shock as within a split second his face had recoiled slightly from mine but he didn’t dare motion too far from me. I could still feel the remnants of his cool temperature in the space between us.

His face as pale as the glow from a full moon and his eyes that, even in the dimly lit night sparked of emerald green made my uneven breath catch. To coin a much used phrase that is all too often said but I think rarely ever used in the right context, I could have died and gone to heaven in that short moment. If indeed I had believed in such a place, for there was no such place unless he was living within it.

My eyes could not leave his face. I was transfixed, held there without any knowledge of time passing and almost forgot the reason why I had needed to look there in the first place. Then it came to me as I looked more closely. His expression hadn’t changed this whole time. He was trying to be careful but it was not without its peril for him for I was able, as usual, to decipher every muscle that formed in his perfect face.

He was trying for collected, perhaps detached, or even indifferent or perhaps all three but his eyes gave him away. They held a deep sadness. Even through the near perfect shades of emerald greens that formed around his pupil, the very depths of his soul were laid out for me to see. I felt like an intruder in that moment, searching his very soul through those perfect windows. Every emotion expressed within them was plain and visible and the emotion of the moment was that of pure sadness and loss.

Without warning he suddenly jerked back, his face turned so that I could no longer see him, see his soul. His back straightened as if to clarify and obtain purpose. And here it was. Fright overtook me in the shadows of the night and it was then that I realised a strange truth. Even though I feared his words, I did not fear him. I never had been fearful of him, not even when I had found out what he was. It seemed like a lifetime ago now.

He turned back to me his eyes closed tightly as if he was trying to find something, anything that would make this moment drift by without any consequence to his actions. Quietly he spoke, his words filled with gentleness even though the subject matter did little to appease his furrowed brow.

“I can’t see that this is the right thing for you” he offered. His eyes opened as he continued “I’m nothing that is good in the world and everything that is bad. I’m not who you think and even if I were, what could I offer to you that would be nearly enough of what you deserve from the world? You deserve happiness and light, not darkness and despair. It would be selfish of me to ask you to live that way for me when there are so many other possibilities stretched out in front of you. I can’t and won’t make you miserable” he paused just for a moment and then added with reluctance “and that’s exactly why I need to leave”.

And there it was. The punch line. The heart of the matter. Although I had tried to mentally prepare for the moment, it surprised me how hard it had struck my gut despite the way it had been so gently administered. It was like a wave had pulled my feet from under me knocking me into the swell of the blackest ocean, unaccommodating and obstructive as it watched me thrash hopelessly for buoyancy.
“No!” I shouted hopelessly “You can’t...I need...Are you serious?..No please!” I implored.
I suddenly felt a need to grip onto something for fear of losing my balance. My breathing had become erratic yet again and my head was swimming. I stumbled near to the ground as I tried to make sense of what was happening. My legs were trying so desperately not to give up on me but were doing little to aid me physically as they collapsed onto the warm grass.

Once again I felt a cold grip pulling me up from the earth beneath me. One arm held strong around my waist whilst the other scooped my feet from under me pulling me into his arms and tight against his chest.

I could hear the low growl emanate from his chest and felt his torment therein but could not respond as he flew through the park, his legs carrying us both faster than a speeding car along a deserted highway. It felt like a dream state, only barely knowing and comprehending that some part of this night had been real. I closed my eyes as the wind rushed past my face, tangling through my hair and cooling my body temperature which had increased through the hyperventilation.

We began to slow as we neared the alleyway to the back of my home, and motionless as it always felt, he leapt gracefully without difficulty to the veranda which was at least 4 or 5 meters up. As was customary, I had left a key on top of one of the beams above the door. He had always grimaced at the thought, advising me that this was the first place any criminals would look as an easy access into my home. It felt strange that a vampire, an immortal with all the strength of a freight train would think consciously of using a key when he could just as easily break the door from its hinges to enter. And of course, I had invited him so there was no going back, no recourse to uninvited a vampire into my home.

Without any hesitation, he carried me straight to the bedroom and gently laid me down, resting my head on the soft feather pillow. He was out of sight for only a second before he re-appeared with a large blanket. He covered me gently tucking the sides underneath me with due care and concern. Although my eyes had opened they were still not focused properly on my surroundings. I felt the softness of the pillow against my face and began to relax into it. I did not realise that I was still pleading with him until my ears stopped ringing and I could hear the sound of my own voice. “You can’t leave me, you can’t go...Please!”.

I felt his wonderfully cold soft fingers pull my hair from my face and then they stroked softly down my cheek. In this moment I was contented and happy for in that one motion I knew that he must feel something for me. Although his heart did not beat, I knew I was the only one his heart would belong to. I managed to steal a quick glance up at him. His eyes were wild with so many emotions – sadness, pain, anger but most of all deep regret. I knew now as I looked into his eyes that this would be the last I saw of him. I wanted to talk him round, wanted to grab hold of him and coax him to stay but the tiredness had won and my pleading voice ceased.

As I watched his eyes in those last few seconds of consciousness, I understood what it was to be completely consumed by someone. How it felt to know that nothing would ever be the same again without them in your life.

“Stay...” I managed to whisper before sinking deeper and deeper into sleep.
I felt cold lips softly graze mine, intensified by his hand gently cupping my jaw and a whisper in my ear “I’ll always be near”. That was the last I remember of my beautiful dark angel...

My name is Grace Webber and this is my story. Don’t be fooled by thinking that I’m anything but ordinary and my story whilst completely extraordinary, is something that would not happen to most. I am the epitome of average and though it may seem completely preposterous that I would be chalking down the events of the past few years so matter of factly, I wanted to collate the information put down in these pages so that I might stare down the realisation of what has transpired.

I am 25 years old and have led a fairly safe sheltered life without mishap or anything remarkable ever having happened that might have shaped my life in anything other than a run of the mill fashion. I live a typical life, not one of much excitement or merit and most certainly as common as any other regular girl of my age.

Living has always been easy for me as I have never been surrounded by much death and certainly no destruction of any kind, and always just existed without questioning how it all works, you know – life, love and the universe. The ideas surrounding existence have never entered my head – Why would they? When you live a life so mediocre it’s not something that you even think to question.

So the story I am about to recall to you will not seem real to you. It will seem farcical and over the top that someone like me would have the good fortune to have made the extraordinary discoveries that have changed my life and the ways in which I view it. But as a warning to those of you who are sceptical, please bare with me as this is a life lesson that you too should learn...

Why I have shares in the Energiser bunny...

See this picture? See the concentration? See the alcohol? That would be me although the alcohol and concentration are not conducive with one another.

So there I was minding my own business, walking down the ice cream freezers filling up my basket with all kinds of weekend badness when a voice behind me said "Can you recommend anything good?".

I was just about to answer with "Do I look like I work in a grocery store?" but turned round and kept it zipped. There was this young guy, attractive and smiling looking hopeful that I would have a genuine answer. I told him to either go for Moosetracks or the Rainbow sherbet sorbet. He smiled again, one of those smiles that makes you feel like a superstar, like you're the only person in the place and nothing else matters.

I think I smiled back for a little longer than was required, probably looked a bit maniacal to tell you the truth and then proceeded to walk into one of the freezer doors whilst walking away...nice. Looked back waiting to see the look of utter disgust and was met with a wholesome laugh and smile instead. Of course others were rolling around with laughter but it didn't seem to bother me.

I walked to the checkout, and started offloading my groceries..oh dear...too much badness there, I should put something back and get something that at least looks the right colour to be healthy. I turned and there he was, smiling and I think checking out my goods, not the groceries.

"Funny we should bump into each other again..." he started and it went from there.

We talked at the line up, we walked outside as he walked me in the general direction of my car and talked there for about another 20 minutes. I was looking at him thinking "He looks normal", "He sounds normal"...so what was wrong with him? Or was there something up with me for thinking that? Was I twisted and jaded about love and relationships or simply over-cautious??

So he asks if I wanted to meet up later for drinks. I think my mouth hit the floor, I'm sure I looked at him with a puzzled expression when he said "Why would you find it so difficult to believe that someone would want to take you out for drinks?". Bridget the crazy cat lady here, maybe he should read my blog.

It was the first time in a long while that I decided to fly on the wings of spontaneity and go with the flow, so I said yes and we arranged to meet up. Turns out, he's 24, really smart, very funny and completely charming. I felt myself being disarmed by this guy, who was completely interested in me, focused on just me. But he lives in Washington...like I've said in my previous blogs, there's always something that throws a spanner in the works. We had a great time and when drinks were over, he swept the hair from my face, kissed me (I almost died it, felt so good) and gave me his cell phone number. He wanted to see me again whilst he was here.

I know me inside and out. I could've done the stupid...I could've said yes. I'd then have the arduous task of falling completely in love with the guy, never seeing him and breaking my heart over it all like I've done so often before with other relationships and the barriers they hold. I didn't. I said that I would keep in touch but that it would be difficult for me to do a long distance thing. He understood.

It may seem that this is a defeatist stance to take but trust me, I know me.

There's a guy I really like right now but yet again, complications galore. We're perfectly matched, share the same views and have this amazingly strong connection. Like when you think you already know someone and you can instinctively tell what someone is thinking.

If it's not distance it's baggage, in a relationship already, too young, too old, bats for the other side, too obsessive, too distant (It's not me, it's you - really? you're going to use that one?) he's a mamma's boy, he likes someone else instead of me, he's an alcoholic, he's violent and so on. I've had them all, trust me.

So where does this leave me? Apart from alone and having a full time relationship with BOB? I'm not kidding about the batteries...

It leaves me wondering if we only have a specific amount of connections that could work and whether I've used mine all up? I don't know anyone who's even remotely interested in me romantically or otherwise and that hasn't happened to me before. There's always been someone who thinks I'm special enough to date. True that they were very possibly axe wielding homicidal maniacs but the thought was there.

Even my cat looks at me like I'm a loser and she's single too so thing are really bad as far as the love life goes.

My problems stem from previous relationships going so horribly wrong. If I like someone I simply won't do anything. I convince myself it somehow feel easier (although it's true torment actually) not to let them know because if they do then it's normally a negative outcome anyways. I don't judge or discriminate about age, race or religion when liking a guy. In fact, generally those things don't even occur to me. I tend to like a person for their soul before anything else.

Don't get me wrong, I'm a happy person and I love my friends and miss my family, but sometimes having another person to share things with...I miss it more.

Don't take this blog as a downer because it's really not. I find it very cathartic writing through what I'm feeling so that I can understand it more. Understand whats going on. Really.

I guess we're all just searching for that connection, that time when someone likes us "just as we are" and pays attention to us without any hesitation. I got that for a short time today and it was totally worth it.

Be gentle with my heart for it is delicate, if you are able to pierce it's hardened surface, I will look after your heart with ever fibre of my being and our hearts will be strong and beating as one...

A day in the life of Brig, wanton sex goddess.......

So this is one of my more typical days...

Wake up, punch out alarm clock...it's 6.30am on a Saturday for Christ's sake. Trip over cat, go to the coffee maker. Empty out remnants of previous filter and hope that the extra spoonful of caffeine will do the trick and wake me the fuck up.

Trip over cat again..open window so she can sit and get some morning air. Make my way to the bathroom where shower has to be uber hot and trip over the cat again as she sits in with me (dirty perv) to breath the fumes from the shower (sinus issues, I guess).

Finish shower and run naked to the coffee maker where I forgot to put the pot back under before starting it. Clean up mess, still naked realising that it gets light very early these days and my landlord generally gets up early on a Saturday....fuck.

Run quickly into the bedroom and dress in my work uniform. About as sexy as a flannelet night dress. Look in mirror...fuck. Chanel/Dior perfume quick spritz.

First morning smoke. Feel like my lungs are going to collapse. Wonder if my cat would eat me if I died right now and she was unfed for days before anyone came looking? CSI has a lot to answer for...

Turn on TV. See all the shit and disturbances round the world followed by an upbeat story about a girl losing her dog and it finding her of it's own accord. The reporter looks so much more good looking than me....bitch.

Drink second cup of tar thick coffee and now feeling a chance closer to human. Check time 7.21am. Go to computer. Check Facebook, no-one loves me. Check email - mail about a new porn site with free downloads...almost tempted to go back to bed with B.O.B. (Battery Operated Boyfriend) but haven't got the time. Will make it up later...

Take vitamins (B100 complex is how I can cope with my energy levels people - try it) drink down with yet more caffeine.

Trip over cat again before renewing her food bowl with dry shit that could have been made out of other cats for all I know. Clean out the litter box - How the fuck can such a small creature leave such a ginormous turd??? It's about half her body size WTF?????

Makeup....hair (who the fuck am I kidding..it looks like a bird's nest wet so maybe the windows open in the car will improve that) another smoke. Time check - 7.56am. Good. Close windows. Trip over cat when turning off the coffee pot. She wants me dead.

Lock doors, trip over my own feet going up the steps (loser)...roll on out to fabulous car with huge dent in the side (Trucker - Fucker). MP3 plugged in...good, got tunes, smokes, gas and I'm away. Almost run over Bambi who greet me at the window every morning...with a friend called Thumper are you fucking surprised your mother got shot?

Down the road. Onto the highway. Light first smoke. Amazing views over Mill Bay this time in the morning..and no traffic so can be more relaxed in driving to work.

Hit the first climb of the Malahat. First wanker in a Mercedes passes me when he realises I'm sticking to speed limit. TWAT.

Get to the summit where breathtaking views await me....almost crash my car. Didn't. Second smoke. Windows down...my hair WILL look great.

Get to ascension on Goldstream. Bastard tailgating me. There are two lanes you know. I know where the cops hide you fuck face...that's right overtake me, tosser.

Slow my speed entering Langford. Dance and sing like an idiot when we get to the red lights. Upmarket lady sitting in car obviously doesn't know how to have fun as she sits glaring at me...get a life, cupcake.

Arrive at destination, unscathed and on Fourth smoke of the day. Park on top of parking lot...what a fucking joke people! Check mirror. Hair looks like I'm at a 80's Pat Benetar concert....shit. Smooth it down...no-one will notice. Walk down the stairs wishing I'd skipped fourth smoke. Into work 45 mins early as generally usual. Hi, hi, hi to colleagues as I walk to the bakery to get something to eat. Cheese and onion buns. 9269. Walking to pay, realised that I could collect codes for NASA.

Third coffee. Bit stronger. Time check - 9.02am.

Start work early. Check book of thieves and local miscreants and all the latest IMPORTANT news that I could have guessed for myself. Straight out onto the battlefield of smiles and apologies (when needed). Friend asks me if I did something different to my hair. She noticed. Wondering how bad it actually looks.

Guy walks up and clicks his fingers at me whilst I'm helping bag groceries and says "lottery" in a supercilious tone that makes me want to grab his fingers and put them through the electric pencil sharpener in the back office. I check and the guy got nothing. Score.

Starts to get busier and I get to see some of the wicked cool peeps that I work with. They put up with alot too. I know the urk of the average cashier when it comes to the over zealous over demanding customer.

People off sick. Called round and tried to be as friendly and suave on people's answering machines as I could be. Joke. One person calls back and says they will come in early (Nice one Almighty). In case you're wondering people, that's why we have had to get more staff in.

First break comes around quickly. Smoke numbers 5 & 6. Sit in the sun wishing I'd won the lottery.

Back to it. Fourth time of "Are you Australian?" grate....

Walked down the aisle. Floor log. Deposits from tills.

Bagging for amazing cashiers. Walked to next till where I overhear "So how tall are you? You play basketball son?". Fell about laughing though I tried desperately to conceal it. He gets it about as often as I get the Aussie thing and takes it as mildly. In case you're wondering "No, I'm into Hockey" is the polite answer.

Giggles profusely for about 4 or 5 minutes.

Back to desk. Next wanker in line decides to try to do an English accent by saying the word " Alrighty" and "Love" alot. Doesn't make you any good at the accent loser.

Check hair as going back into the cash office and it now look like I'm a character from "Where the Wild Things Are". Get change. Take to till. Chat with newbies, nice peeps. Extend shifts. One out of six, not bad.

R Key, R Key , R Key...

Speak to my friends. Not happy. We're short people. Extra stress on a Saturday. MY Friday. Decide that Euthanasia should be recommended past the age of 70 to clear line ups.

Time check - 2.43pm. This day is going by quick and for a change, it's my Friday....yey.

Next break, no Reba in the break room for a change...fuck yeah. I changed it to Family Guy when I got in there. People looking miserable....Fuck, it's a grocery store people. You can't be that miserable. If it were a case of national security I might see those glaring unfocused miserable faces but not here. Break over. 2 more smokes consumed.

15 more comments about "Aussie" later decided that I should just admit to being Aussie even if I wasn't. Don't have a criminal record but it might just be bloody worth it. What I really wanted to ask was if "you've ever been outside of Canada, Read anything international instead of local gossip columns or had any outside experience of accents in your life because as far as I'm concerned you're certainly not worldly nor wisely in my pomme opinion you fuckwit".

Gets busy..."R-Key till 9", "Supervisor Till 2", Service desk lined up with refunds, bottle returns, lotto, Courtesy clerks on break at the worst times (not their fault, just the way the cookie crumbles), "CD on till 12", "Front desk line 1", phone ringing off the hook, smokes needed at tills?....and a line of cashiers either going on break or coming back and wanting to know where their going...If you think these people are paid for the glory think again. The lowest paid Super Supervisors, are the ones who help most because they know (right Ed? You know who you are... talked today eh) Low wages but high responsibility. I'd give you a day if I thought you could last that long...

Has a super laugh and joke with my favourite peeps before time check 5.50pm. Checked line ups. Checked to see if any more I could do. Did floor log for hell of it. Wanted to talk with a few friends and didn't get the chance...fuck. I only wanted to say that we were part of an elite bunch of super heroes and just didn't know it yet...McJosh (Mad Murdoch), Ev Almighty (Hannibal), Sir Nicholas (Faceman) Bridget (B.A.Baracus) Fuck yeah.....

Fled to my car. Saturday afternoon 6pm traffic - virtually non- existent. Yes. Stopped in Mill Bay. Liquor store. Thriftys. Gas station. Home. Tripped over the cat coming through the door. She had tried to plan her escape well but did not succeed...meow.

Opened Raspberry cider whilst struggling to hug the cat and take off clothes all at once. Cat still resents me for the earlier trips...biatch.

Showered. Checked FB....Maybe a couple of people love me but will have to step up lovability at some point before we become a spinster (With the "crazy cat lady" image) to make sure that I don't die miserably alone in a face full of Purina One Cat Chow.

Decide after the third cider to check FB again...still no different...fuck. Screw this for a game of soldiers, I'm doing Karaoke. Time check - 8.45pm. Try Miley Cyrus - The Climb, Symbolic but shit, try Yellow Submarine - The Beatles, not pissed enough, try Heart - Stranded, Fuckin perfect.

Time check - 10.45pm dancing around the room to ABBA and Barry Mannilow's "Mandy". Food Eaten - 0, Calories used throughout day - 1000Kcal. Hysteria level provoked through caffeine intake - still 70%.

Chances of nakedness - 56%
Chances of singing to Celine - 10%
Chances of singing to Backstreet Boys 80%
Chances of tripping over the cat 100%
Chances of solving "World Peace" fuck all...
Chances of having a super super Friday (Yes, even without other humans around) 100%
Chances of drunken "cat phone call" to parents - very likely...

So tell me your day, tell me how stressed you are at taking a six hour shift and being five minutes away from work....chances are.....I won't feel quite as brave as you. Bridget, over and out xxxxx LOL

Pay It Forward...Not just a movie...It's a lifestyle

There's an awful amount of scepticism surrounding the idea of paying it forward. I guess I too would be sceptical if I didn't know for a fact that there are people out there willing to treat others as they wish to be treated.

For those who have not seen the movie or hear of the notion here's the brief... If someone is kind enough to do you a favour, no matter how small or how big, you must pass that kindness onto the next person and they in turn do the same thing. Sounds idealistic doesn't it? Sounds like a rose tinted world that doesn't exist?

I'm here to tell you different. On the contrary, it can be a way of life that opens up a whole new mentality, a new thought process, a new line of conscious thinking. If we all did one small thing every day for someone else life would be so much easier and a much better way to live.

A friend of mine writes blogs too and he commented that much of the time people are out for themselves and do not stop to think of others. He's a very gifted writer so you should visit his blog at www.woahrandom.com. He sees the world from a different angle much like me, probably due to his height "hey, how tall are you buddy?" "wow, you must be good at basketball.." (sorry Ev ;o), couldn't resist) and I think much of his insight is due to being different in a weird and wonderful world such as this.

I think that people have the capacity for a great deal of good but they get too caught up in the little things to pay any attention to well, the little things. You don't have to make grand gestures to show that you care about people. You don't have to tell the world that you did something good today. You just need to SHOW up and play your part in the woven tapestries of life.

Make yourself care, go the extra mile. Yeah, so you get hurt of fucked over once in a while but it beats the alternative. A life of selfishness and being so alone internally that you just keep dismantling the very nature of why you were put here in the first place. Being selfless can be a real pain in the ass but at least it doesn't make you a hypocrite. At least you do what you set out to do. Whether you get praised for it or not is not the reason you should be doing these things.

I've had the pleasure of being fucked over royally several times in different situations. Money, work, friendship, and every time I've been knocked down I've always remembered a really good phrase that keeps me focused and determined. "It's not that we fell or how we fell that's important, It's how we pick ourselves up that defines us".

The world can be a tireless place of hatred and anarchy from every angle so if even a few people decided to adopt this nature, it might encourage others to do the same. And the flow of Pay It Forward would continue.

Being empathetic with people's emotions and feelings makes this system ideal for me as I'm acutely aware that I'm not the only one who is suffering at any given time in this world. It makes what I do matter more to me as I would expect the same back. Do I always get it? No. But I have the hopes and dreams of a thousand people which means I simply can't stop trying because it's "too hard" or "no-one cares".

Am I a saint?? Not to any stretch of the imagination. I've done some very irreverent things that I'm totally not proud of but I learnt from them and decided to change the way in which I went about things. If only the politicians of the world could do the same. To change the world, we have to change our perception of it. So instead of thinking that all people are arseholes and wankers, I decided to give everyone a break and not judge. I've never been too judgemental on anyone. I can't afford to be given that I'm by no means perfect.

My mission statement in life is to empathise with people, treat everyone I come into contact with equally and to treat people with the respect they deserve. Does that make me an idiot? Perhaps, but I'm an idiot who knows what's going on in the world. Do I care what people think of my intentions? Not a bit because in the end I know where I'm from, the journey I've taken and am still traversing, and I know who I am. I'm happy with who I am whether someone decides to judge me or not. Like me, hate me or judge me but when the shit hits the fan you can call on me for help.

Life's not about the petty he said/she said scenarios. If you aline yourself with all that shit you miss out on what's really important and what counts.

When life feels like it's treading on you (it happens to me too) remember the amazing scope of possibilities that invariably come your way throughout your life. Remember the amazing times you've had and the ones yet to pass and the small idiocies of life feel incredibly small. The world is a big place, the universe even bigger and it doesn't seem too much to me to pay it forward to someone who might need a leg up.

A kind word can go a long way, as can a smile, a joke, an embrace. In the end it's all about connection. Everything is connected and simultaneously living and breathing. Maybe not always in harmony but we can hope. If the hopes are many, the prayers can be answered as a good hope for the future can evolve into actuality.

So my question to you is what you're going to do with your time here?? How can you impact a life? Two lives? Three? Just simply pay it forward people. Give a shit and you will feel an immense satisfaction in doing so, I promise. I'll keep paying it forward, you do the same.......

Where have all the Superheroes gone?????

We have a new guy that just started work at the store. He's a really nice young guy but when I first saw him he reminded me of Luke Skywalker...I mean, he could be the twin brother of Luke if Luke didn't have a sister or a twisted family. This guy as I say is a really nice guy so I very much doubt he has any "daddy" issues or psychopathic Darkside tendencies. Every time I looked at him today all I could hear was "Da da da da da da da, da da da da da, da da da da" (for anyone uneducated in the Da language that would be the Star Wars Theme tune).

It got me to thinking about my staple diet of movies as a kid and made me ask the question "Where have all the Superheroes gone?". I was brought up on Superman, Indiana Jones, Batman, The Goonies (truffle shuffle - hell yeah), Star Wars and as such have come to wonder why they don't create heroes like that anymore. They have had a few goodies of late don't get me wrong. Captain Jack Sparrow for one. A baddie we love to love but still.

The Superhero epitomises everything we hold true and dear in our communities and societies and even deeper within ourselves. So when they make a truly wonderful movie we come out feeling totally uplifted by it.

Maybe the problem of the superhero is that it just wouldn't work out in real life. Think of Peter Parker's "spidersense" tingling. How long would it really take him to get to an emergency these days??? I mean come on, can you really see the batmobile hurtling down Highway 1 in friday afternoon traffic?? Or Clark Kent even trying to find a telephone booth to change into Superman in this the day and age of media on the go...Even then the RCMP would get him for indecent exposure (I'm sure he's "Super" in many ways).

What is it about the Superhero or just plain heroes of old we really like? Is it the antithesis of good vs evil because let's face it, we all root for a happy ending. Or is it the superpowers? X-Ray vision, mind control, fire starting, invisibility?? Or the gadgets...

If I was allowed my pick of the bunch I'd have the following on my pick list: -

* Jedi mind control - very useful. Example

Angry customer "blah blah blah insult Australia blah"

Nat " You want to talk to me more politely, you want to hit yourself in the face, and you want to give me that winning lotto ticket...these aren't the droids you're looking for..move along".

* Pimped out catwoman suit. A girls gotta look good and the whip can come in useful if you know what I mean ladies.

* Invisibilitites - mmmm, think of the possibilities. Walking into a bank vault for a bit of extra spending money for the weekend, listening to others without them knowing you're there, visiting Johnny Depp whilst he was sleeping.

* Ability to fly - anywhere in the world. "Hey guy's guess what, I'm off to Hawaii for the weekend". Of course, you'd need a lightweight backpack to take necessities - change of clothes, undies, swimwear.

I'd stay working at the grocery store. You have everything you'd need anyway so why not do a bit for the community. Of course I'd help people. What couldn't you do with those powers????

I think my point is that actually, heroes have evolved. Or maybe we have. Heroes can come in all shapes and forms and I truly think that our conception of heroes has changed. We seem to point less to the over-the-top spandex and incredibly gay weaponry and more to the subtle everyman. An ordinary person who despite all odds still manages to be super or extraordinary in some facet.

Whether it's opening a door for an elderly lady, or giving someone that extra penny when they don't have it or maybe just that smile or "how's it going today?" it's the small things like this that make you a hero to somebody. So in my store, I personally see many many superheroes...McJosh, Justin Timberlake, we have 2 Dan's who are both "The Man", Evan Almighty, Scooby Dooby Daphne, Kelly - Mwah, Lee Lee, Ray Ray (both people so cool I say their names twice), Deborah (too cool for school) and not to forget the obvious, Luke Skywalker. There are so many Superheroes in that place I feel a bit mediocre but still I'm Bridget and I'm a superhero too.

So don't go to the darkside...join us in the fight against evil, We give you a nametag and everything. On one side it says your name and on the flip side a secret superhero symbol. You've just got to have a midichlorian count of thousands (Not a Star Wars fan?...then you won't get the joke, don't try) and the ability to use a light saber whilst packing groceries...now that would be cool.....

Oh Canada...Part 3

So, because of the emotional reaction I've had to my first post, I really needed to do a Oh Canada...Part 3 so that I can fill you in on the past events and tend to the disturbing events leading to why I came to Canada in the first place.

This is entirely not easy for me given that I'm very uncomfortable talking about these issues let alone printing them for all to see, but I owe so many people so much they deserve to know my reasons for the change and my decisions for coming to Canada.

Here it is...the truth as painful as it stands....

I applied to come out to Canada with my now ex-fiance more than 8 years ago. We went through an almost 4 year process to get to this stage which included medical checks, police checks, financial checks...you name it, we had to do it. When we finally got our PR (permanent resident) cards we sold the house, quit our jobs and had the removal men ready to go. Unfortunately for us, things had been boiling over for a while and we ended things 3 weeks before we left the country. He never made it over here and things ended amicably.

His body clock was ticking and before you know it he's engaged, has a baby on the way and had married a girl who looks exactly like me all within a year, strange but not unusual. I'm not bitter, I'm not sad I'm just glad that he found someone who could love him the way I couldn't. We were together for over 7 years but unfortunately for us, the spark extinguished and I preferred a life not living a lie or pretending that we were something we were not.

I on the other hand decided when we split to wait a while before thinking of coming out on my own....big mistake...huge mistake....As I realised later on, I would have been better off financially and emotionally coming to Canada right away. Things however are not always as they seem and painful as it is to admit, I can't say now I'd do anything differently as this country has changed me for the better.

So when we split up, I rented myself a place in town and did the things I love to do...singing mainly at the local karaoke bar and socialising with friends. It filled a void that I wasn't used to...being alone.

One night, I met a guy who seemed great, was exactly what I thought I needed at the time and we hit it off. Next thing I know I'm mingling with his friends and got to meet a really nice girl called Corinne. She held a world cup party that year that we were invited to and nothing seemed out of place. Infact, we got on really well. She called me the next day to say that money had been stolen from here house during the party. She was crying and unable to pay the rent and as if by magic, Stupid here offers to help her out. Then she had me. From here on in the story goes into detail which I know will keep me up at night so long story short her and her boyfriend (my boyfriend) decide to rip me off for anything I have in the world which at the time was enough to pay for a place here. My ex and I had split the proceeds from the house and she took it all.

You're probably thinking how I could be so stupid but in my defense everything was notarised and signed by lawyers. What they didn't check up on was that letters from her inheritance had been nullified so she was no longer entitled to any money. I called the police and found out that she'd done the same thing to at least 3 or more couples who were not her friends, just associates.

She had made so many excuses - her son was ill, she had cancer, her mother had died all of which I found despicable when I found out the truth. You may find me pathetic for having believed it in the first place but I assure you there are those hideous creatures in the world that pray on people and know what to look for. She had spotted my weakness a whole mile off and let me tell you this...no matter how much forgiveness there is in the world, no matter how ADULT it is to forgive someone, no matter how divine, I hope the bitch starves and dies because she did the one thing that is against my code of ethics...claiming your child is sick when they're not...sick, sick, sick. She doesn't deserve to have ovaries as far as I'm concerned.

I don't ever have any ill thoughts about anyone but I will tell you that Corinne Webb (If that's her real name - aliases galore people) is the exception to the rule.

She went to prison for 12 months. In that time, my dreams of coming to Canada faded as I had nothing to support myself. I had already quit my incredible job working for the local council. Given my qualifications and experience, I was on the equivalent of $58 per hour and now that was gone too. I had rent that I couldn't pay so I had to move back in with my parents. Things were bad. They got worse. I couldn't get past the fact that someone had screwed me over so royally and I had some serious issues surrounding what I should do next. My confidence had disappeared, for good or so it seemed.

I met some incredibly nice people over the course of the next year or two and some incredibly bad choices made things so much worse....mainly concerning an inability to function as a pleasant regular member of society. Bad people create bad people and I chose poorly. I got in with a crowd where I felt I belonged to find that really I was the butt of everyone's jokes. I was led into the seedy underbelly without any acknowledgement that I was doing anything wrong and I was preyed upon by some of the worst types of scum that very nearly killed me. When I say killed me, I truly emphatically mean it. I almost drowned in a hot tub because a guy hated me so much in the moment that he decided he would prefer me dead to living and by that point, I'd had enough so I didn't put up much of a fight.

My worst memory is one night when I'd had enough and as they do, my parents tried to talk sense into me. I had a bottle of paracetamol in my hands and my brain (no matter how sensible) was telling me that I needed to take the pills and be done with it. The most frightening part of that night was that it made sense to me to do it. I will never forgive myself for being so completely selfish in putting my parents through that. I hate myself for that, because that is not ME. You all know me. And this is me...my brain was just under so much pressure it couldn't cope with it anymore.

Anyway, there is far too much to tell about those days and not enough stomach to discuss it. I do not want pity for days past...I needed to learn a lesson from these experiences and I really did. This way, I can learn from my peers (which is you) and I now know how I want to live my life and who I am. These events though dire and painful show me what can be achieved, how strong I am and how much I appreciate the smaller insignificant things that may not matter to many but feel special to me.

I am stronger today than I ever was and it is only through these truths, these endurance's that we persist and learn to know ownership of our own lives and hold what is truly dear to us. Canada has saved my life and I will fight tooth and nail to show that it's way of life is the greatest in the world and that it's people are truly ethereal.

How stupid can one English girl look???

So my nickname is Bridget...it's been Bridget since I split up with me ex-fiance 6 years ago. The reason?? I am the epitome of Bridget Jones, wanton sex goddess...and like her I tend to fuck things up a bit. It's not a conscious effort on my part to do so...it's just the way things turn out.

I'm known for my inability to find a love life because I tend to accidentally mess things up. If I meet a guy I like, odds are that he's gay or attached or on occasion manic depressive and obsessive. On one occasion wanted by the police in connection with a burglary...just kidding there but you get my drift. There is always something that kicks me in the arse.

I don't meet many guys that I like or crush on so when I do it's a big deal. I have had 3 crushes since arriving in Canada 2 years ago and 1 relationship (If you can call it that) that lasted the lengthy time of 2.5 months. He was 29 years old going on 13 so for obvious reasons it didn't work out.

I started to ponder if it was something I was doing wrong...maybe it was me...maybe I was the one with the problem. It occurred to me that it was just a matter of random bad decisions on my part in who I was finding attractive. The question is can you really choose who you find attractive?? I've been out with guys who's face looks like a slapped arse but have great personalities and then been out with guys who look like gods but have the personality of a duck with one leg.

Looks are definitely not the first thing that attract me to a guy. SMARTS are. If a guy is smart it's a huge turn on. Then I go for sense of humour...they need one if they even want to be seen out in public with me. The chronic accidental misadventures that I get myself into are an integral part of our potential future! Then I go for everything else.

So what generally happens if I find a guy I like?? Some examples not unheard of would be serious blushing. I mean I go lobster. You could put me in the middle of a poppy field and wouldn't be able to pick me out. I giggle ALOT. Not a trait I want a potential guy to see. Sometimes I will fall over things or walk into things or accidentally hit things in a fit of excitement. My whole nervous system becomes uncontrollable and I can't seem to co-ordinate myself properly. I babble like a complete idiot and if I think I'm going to say something stupid that I don't even want to say I ignore them to save face.

It's a complicated thing and there are thousands among thousands of factors that can set the odds of finding someone you really relate to and click with. The odds are huge....

So the English girl decided to go on her first blind date in Canada last year...what a disaster. The guy turns up at the bar. His name was Dan, 37 and he spoke like a Californian surfer (that should have been my warning sign). He was nice enough looking and the evening started off well. General chit chat about where I came from and how I was finding living in Canada. I then pursued conversations about him. Turns out that he thought Jean Claud Van Damme was "the greatest actor in the movies ever" and he liked monster trucks and hard liquor. If he'd said he liked porn I might have been more impressed.

No more blind dates EVER. PERIOD.

In the mean time Bridget will plod along alone...having nights in with the cat, getting tipsy and prancing around the house to ABBA, Backstreet Boys and every other guilty pleasure music that everyone hates to love (you know you do it too). At least she gets to sleep with B.O.B. He doesn't talk so I really can't fuck up there. Knowing my luck though the batteries will short out, electrocute me and the coroner will have a very interesting story to tell at parties....

Oh Canada...Part 2

I was beginning to think that I'd made a dreadful mistake...that the change was too much, too big. I'm very logical when it comes to seeing the big picture and I don't believe in coincidences. It is not by coincidence that I'm writing this now. It is a fated pre-ordained decision made not by me but by events that intertwine and direct me along the path I should be taking. The meaning of life cannot be found by taking the path of least resistance, nor can it be found by giving up or letting go of those things that shape you.

It's simple math that given any sequence of events a part of your life will change and shape who you are. I was NOT able to take the path of least resistance as there simply wasn't one to take.

So I found a job working at the Malahat Mountain Inn where I made some great friends who are still friends now. I had my first crush (and not my last) on a server who it turns out got me my next job in Sidney working as a server myself.

I made my first best friend in my next job working as the pub manager of the Honey Pot Pub in Honeymoon Bay. Her kindness and loyalty fills me with an incredible sense of belonging. I hadn't felt that way in almost 10 years. She is truly an amazing human being and her positivity and grace knows no bounds. Any time I go to see her I feel like her house is my house and I'm completely at ease. I'm not sure she knows how amazing she is so Donna, if you're reading this, you're just an angel.

Things started to fall into place after meeting Donna. I started working for a great grocery store. It's not that the grocery store is great or the corporate bigwigs have any ideology that I agree with. It's the people who work for the grocery store. I started in my local store at entry level (cashier). The people that work for the company are amazing. Compassionate, friendly, sincere and for the most part very intelligent people.

So to any of you shoppers out there that think people that work in a grocery store are beneath you...you might want to think that through again and be more polite to them next time. They are probably smarter than you, infact I KNOW many of them are smarter than you with educational degrees and more life experience than you could ever dream of having. These people work tirelessly through very long days and very stressful situations for low pay and still there is a collective thought to ensure that customer service is the number one priority.

That's one of the many many many things I love about living in Canada. Not only are people empowered by their surroundings and communities they are willing to trust outsiders without any questions of where they come from and who they are. I love the free thinking attitudes of this relatively new country and it is inspiring to think that I will play a role in the history of the country no matter how big or small that role may be.

So Canada is the place in my dreams and the people I have met along the way have helped to shape who I am right now. Thinking back on the past, well it reminds me of why the past plagues us. It is simply to remind us of what we have been through and how strong we can be when we need to. I have learnt from my mistakes, and I have made several (thousand) of them and it is an important learning curve.

Thanks Canada, and thanks to the people that live here for giving me a chance...You rock!!

Oh Canada...Part 1

So...It begins. I journey into the world of publishing my thoughts rather than keeping them in my head or stored on my laptop where no-one will see them. It feels sort of liberating actually. I write a great deal, stories, poems and the like but like I say none of it is generally seen by anyone other than close friends or family so here goes..another first!

So to Canada....I moved here in June 2008 after a series of shall we say mishaps (putting it lightly) and traumatic events that ultimately made up my mind to take the step. It was pretty much life or death for me but I will address that another time.

In my world, things seem to go "tits - up" a great deal of the time so the change was quite frankly the only thing I was focused on. I had visited the country a number of times and desperately wanted to live in Canada. When I finally made the decision to come over I felt completely relieved. Canada was, or so I thought, not too different from the UK in culture, politics and general conceptions and of course was English speaking so I was adamant that I would adapt very quickly with ease.

I quickly learnt that this was not the case. The language barrier would prove to be far greater than I initially anticipated. However, I digress...You'll find that I go off on a tangent much of the time but I will try to keep it to a minimum.

Arriving in the country was exhilarating. I'd been to Victoria once and not seen the rest of the Island at all so did not know what to expect. A friend who lives on the Island told me that instead of moving to the Okanagan I should come and stay with her for a while to see if I like it. After all, moving from an island to an island is not a huge leap.

I remember the ferry ride over to the island distinctly. It was a sunny day and as I watched from the top deck I was moved to tears by a number of emotions. The top layer on the hierarchy of head crap was how amazing it all looked. Then there was how much I already missed my parents and my sister...followed by fears of a brand new start. Then came the flood of psychological disturbances from the past. Ghosts racing through my head of how narrowly I had escaped my demise into a very dark place. Tumultuous times, deep hurt and pain had broken me and I was very unsure as to whether I could make it in a new country let alone whether I was able to dis-associate past events from a new start.

But I had to try...

My first few months were really difficult. I was working three jobs to make ends meet, no friends, no family - completely alone. I don't think I had expected it to be quite so hard and at my age it felt sort of futile. In England I had my own home, a job with local government that paid amazingly, a great social life and my family lived 5 minutes away if I needed them for any emergencies. Here there was no fall back. No-one to lean on in times of trouble. So it was tough....There were the 10pm (6am UK time) drunken phone calls every few days to my folks which kind of went like this...

"Heya mum, just wanted you to know that I'm fine (very slurred) How are you guys doing?"

"Nat you know that it's 6am don't you?"

"Did I wake you up? (giggle giggle)"

"Have you had a few drinks tonight Nat?"

"Yep...mum...Can you put the cats on the phone...I miss them....thanks...Jade, Jade, it's mummy...HEEEEELLLOOOO....Jady, Jady...I miss you...."

I've managed to get the phone calls down to once a week now and I very rarely speak to my cats. Weirdly enough, they always know when I'm on the phone though....psychic link.

I struggled with the language barrier...ahhh yes....there is one. Every day there would be something. Examples...

UK = plaster Canada = band aid
UK = trolley Canada = buggy
UK = swede Canada = rutabaga
UK = courgette Canada = zucchini

Tomato, tomato....you get the gist. It's hard trying to unlearn learnt behaviours which you've known all your life. Once you're over that hurdle and the fact you get called Australian 40 or 50 times a day there's the small matter of dealing with new systems and procedures in every day life. Bank accounts, driving license, insurances, SIN card, PR Card, cable, internet...the list goes on. Some of the procedures are very different to the UK so naturally when I was unsure of things that you might find easy over here, people would look at me as if i was an escaped mental patient. I'm not saying they're wrong...

Then there is the changes in weather...My friends told me about the 5 minute rule on the island. That the weather can change in 5 minutes. My first winter here was attrocious. I was snowed into my house for over a week and a half with about 2.5 foot of snow all around me. My car would not be moved and if I wanted to get groceries (UK = shopping) I would have to walk over an hour to get them, then an hour back along the highway. I was incredibly unprepared for that one.

Then there was the sheer distance of everything. In Canada, everything is easily located because you have the block system right? Unless you live in the middle of butt fuck no-where. You have to drive everywhere here. I can't walk to my local like I used to do in the UK because to put it plainly...there is NO local. It's easily located 5 minutes away from me if I drive!

On top of that, as if that wasn't enough, you have to try to make new friends. Now, as you know, I'm a very social person, easy outgoing. I didn't have a single friend, well not one that I was able to see, for about the first year. Everything centres around people's schedules out here. Checking of schedules is very big here. Then there's the promise of socialising but it's entirely empty. I can't tell you how many people had uttered the words "We'll have to get together to go for a drink". Sounds nice........never happened. The good intent was there on their part but life got in the way. Not their fault. They have their own lives to lead but it was very disconcerting for me. In England, if someone says "Want to meet up for a drink?" it happens.

Tough tough times. But it was all about to change.....