Kathydo’s Weblog

Girl douchebags? There must be.

Guy dbs just have flamboyant looking sunglasses, skinny pants and a cocky demeanour. Guy dbs know they are dbs.

Girl douchebags are usually very pretty and they know it. That’s not a reason to dislike them though. There are plenty of reasons for that.

Girl dbs think they are cultured and lament about how some ethnic foods are “authentic” enough and they’ve had the real thing in the real country somewhere or other. However, when you present them with something out of the norm sourced locally, all of a sudden “that’s disgusting.” Actually, Vancouver is so diverse you can get food here that is just as authentic as if you got it in its ethnic origin. And no, it’s not disgusting, it is food that people eat because 1) they have to 2) they have created a delicacy 3) you’re a jerk.

Girls dbs think they have the best taste in music and look at you weird when you reminisce about cheesy high school music. They also get pouty when you won’t listen to what they want you to test out and they think that something is extra cool because they know the guy that makes the music. Knowing someone who is a DJ doesn’t make the music good. It makes you look more douchey.

Girl dbs pretend they are all modest and quiet but when it is their turn to talk in a group, they say something that they hope will get the crowd talking. Like something random that sounds sort of educated but really isn’t because it was a major news story 50 years go. Or something that is tooting her own horn without being quite so blatant.

Girl dbs can talk for so long and not actually tell you anything new but they do it in a way where it vaguely sounds like they are saying something important. Politer people listen to the drivel and hope to extract some meaning. I just start zoning out.

Girl dbs think they are very busy and productive but typing fast doesn’t make you productive when you are FB chatting.

Girl dbs turn into crazy bitches when they are stressed and turn on the silent treatment in the most inappropriate setting. Yet, they get whiney when you are stressed and need to concentrate and can’t be bothered with their daily annoyances.

Girl dbs complain about EVERYTHING. Girl dbs have this unearned sense of privelege they they expect and have standards that always have to be met or else they will broodingly complain. Except, girl dbs insist they are “real” and “down to earth.”

There must be a word for girl douchebags… right?

The very first time you upgrade from a kid’s puzzle to one of those 500 pc boxes, it’s truly a daunting task. All the pieces look the same, the colours are the same and you think that you’ll never get through it. This is a whole different playing field than the 12 pc farm animal puzzle you are used to. This is a grown up’s game.

My mom always said to find the corners first and make the frame. Wise strategy. Always form a foundation, always frame yourself so you know what to do first. Make sure that frame is correct, centred, strong. Then build the puzzle from there.

I liked to sort the pieces face up into colour piles. I like knowing what each piece looks like and working from colour grouping to colour grouping. I like seeing the picture come to life, chunk by chunk and I like knowing that there was an end to it all. I can’t stand it when others do puzzle and they are not as organized.

But when it’s your first puzzle and all the pieces are the same colour and look the same, there is always this tendency to just want to force the pieces together and make it all work. If you force the pieces, eventually you’ll get a mishapen figure, a couple of holes here and there, but you’ll get the idea of what the picture is supposed to be.

I always have a strategy and an organized plan about how I want things to turn out. But lately, I’ve been forcing and forcing, hoping to capture an image in my head. But the holes are getting bigger, the extra pieces are leaving an uncomfortable pile and the picture I wanted is completely distorted. But starting over seems like an admission of failure and wasting time. Maybe I can force it still.

Sadly, I have lost the chance to carry the Torch and I am absolutely OK with it. It would have been amazing but two people on my team were selected which is awesome and the others were such deserving candidates. Oddly enough, when one of the descriptions was being read, I swore it was me! But I was hopelessly inebriated and all the flattering words spoken really had nothing to do with me.

Teambuilding with Coke has been one of the most amazing things I have ever done. I have never been pushed to the limit like that. I have never been so emotionally charged and physically challenged. I shot a rifle and a shotgun! I saddled and rode a horse. I thought I was going to die in the woods. I climbed the side of a cliff in the rain with some very sketchy looking equipment. I took charge; I followed. I had the courage to talk to the GM and let him know that he intimidates me and I cleared the air with him. I talked to people I never talked to and now adore my whole team. I got to see people for who they are and appreciate them as such.

I am amazed every day about all that is and will be happening. Carrying the Torch is only a small opportunity that is presented to us. I found out that there are more ridiculously exciting things ahead and I cannot wait. And I don’t know how to appreciate it all.