Category Archives: Relationships

Titles of Biographies Written by People Who Never Actually Talked To Me (Likely, I Forgot to Call Them Back)*

  1. That Bitch
  2. Hopeful Disappointments
  3. Of Course Not
  4. Like, The Right Amount
  5. Cockamamie Outcomes & Contradictions
  6. Wayward Consequences
  7. You Heard Dirty
  8. Shut It Down, Bring It Up
  9. Enviable Indignities
  10. The Pits
  11. Knee High
  12. Where Applicable?
  13. About Thirteen
  14. And Such That It Wasn’t
  15. HELLO STALLION!
  16. Normal Weird
  17. Once or Twice
  18. Light Here
  19. Every. Damn. Day.
  20. Good Psychology, Bad Math
  21. Pffffffffftttt!!!
  22. The Skinny On The Shit
  23. No, Actually
  24. Stupid Good Times
  25. Origami Logic
  26. Oh, You Bet
  27. That Bitch

 

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* Please follow any of these with “The Cindy Phan Story,” where you feel it best fits.

 

 

 

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Filed under Animals, Books, Mind and Body, Relationships, THE FUTURE, Words

Favourite

I have an aunt who would ask me all the time, “Am I your favourite?”

I have a lot of aunts. She wanted, it seems, to stand out distinguished among them.

(Though there are a lot of aunts, they are not interchangeable, but the issue seems to be hers exclusively.)

As time passed, the questioned changed:

“Who’s your favourite?”

And changed again:

“I’m your favourite, right?”

Until, finally:

“Tell them who your favourite is.”

“No,” “Why,” “I don’t know” did not deter her from asking her question, and neither did “Yes.”

“Yes,” as you can see, was what led to further questions until the inevitable “tell them.”

(NOTE: “I don’t have a favourite,” was met with disbelief and scorn, and also the equally predictable demands for a “real” answer. Demands for “the truth.”)

The truth is this: I no longer speak to that aunt. Not anymore than I have to, anyway. Which is to say not a lot. Which is to say not much.

Funny now, looking back on things. Funny the lengths we go through, the trouble and expense, to define something for others on behalf of ourselves.

Among other things, “favourite” means “chosen”, “preferred”, and “cherished.”

No longer speaking to my aunt is my choice, it is my preference and something I have come to cherish.

My favourite.

 

 

 

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Filed under Change, Family, Relationships, THE PAST, Words

Top Recs

The following: A list of things people have recommended to me, ordered according to our relationship to each other, arranged by order of importance and/or frequency of occurrence of said recommendation.

Friends:

  • Archer
  • Downton Abbey
  • Lost
  • Fifty Shades of Grey (book and movies)
  • Afternoon naps
  • Bouldering

Acquaintances:

  • Game of Thrones
  • Jimmy Fallon
  • The Life-Changing Magic of Tidying Up
  • Hitchhiking
  • The one on the left.
  • All lady fight club
  • To prove it by choosing which limb.
  • Mint tea
  • Chewing gum

Co-Workers:

  • Downton Abbey
  • March Madness
  • That cute place down the street.
  • To give up the coordinates for the rest of him we swear we only want closure.
  • Vaping

Upper Management:

  • To value “experience.”
  • To treat co-workers “like family.”
  • To give 110%
  • Offal on demand.
  • Game of Thrones
  • Dystopia
  • THE BOX

Family:

  • To call more.
  • A career change.
  • A nose job.
  • The key so we can finally know what he hid in that room we found behind the fake bookshelf in his workshop.
  • To please god stop reminding us.
  • Downton Abbey

 

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Books, Family, Food, Friends, Hobbies, Jobs, Movies, People, Relationships, Sports, Television

Much Alike

My sister and I look very much alike. Her friends and mine confused us for each other all the time. Still do.

My parents always wanted me to be more like my cousin – poised, prim and perfect – but I look nothing like her.

My relatives say that I look like my mom. But she’s had some nips and tucks and doesn’t quite look like herself anymore (which, of course, is the point).

I must look what she used to look like, even though she never looked like my sister and bares no resemblance to my cousin.

Don’t believe me?

Just ask my sister’s friends. They’ll tell you. After all, they’re right about half the time, if not even more than that.

Looks can be deceiving, but not all the time and certainly not for everyone.

 

 

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Filed under Childhood, Family, Friends, Relationships, THE PAST

100% of the Ones You Don’t Take

The professor’s face was set amongst pleasantly rounded features – stub nose, soft cheeks spread across the gentle slope of his jawline, topped off by a pat of fine ginger hair and a pair of affable eyes that rested lazily under slightly-smudged and overlarge glasses.

We had been discussing my future as a graduate student. I mumbled something along the lines of “kind of” to one of his inquiries about my academic intents and ambitions.

“‘Kind of?’” he responded, laughter pulling those features into sharp, fine lines. “You’re either pregnant or you’re not.”

That sentence haunted me for a really long time. Months, weeks and so on. Even today, I think about it still.

That, and my response, which was simply a listless and non-committal, “Yeah.”

God. Damn. It.

So many other things that could have been said in that seconds after “you’re not.” So many things that should have been. Among these:

  • “Only if I don’t know who the father is.”
  • “Schrödinger’s pregnancy!”
  • “Sir, I am pregnant until I’m not. And I’m not until I am.”

Glorious, no?

***

I think I have finally realized what happened, way back then. I missed it.

I had missed my shot.

Other people had said similar things to me since.

But it’s not the same.

Besides, the universe is not to be trusted when it comes to do-overs.

So many regrets in this life. In the end, what’s one more?

One more yeah.

 

 

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Filed under Education, People, Relationships, THE FUTURE, THE PAST

The Logistics of the Illogical and Frankly Stupid (re: “I Love You”)

“Cindy. I love you. But [HORRIBLE THING SAID ABOUT ME WITHOUT REMORSE].”

Has this ever happened to you?

Why not just tell me to fuck right off? That would have been preferable. It would have been so much better.

Not, “I love you.”

And don’t call me by my name. Don’t use my name and “I love you,” so you don’t have to feel bad about that horrible thing you actually wanted to say in the first place, but were too cowardly to do so without some desperate preface.

In any case, the love, the particular love cited here: it was not mutual. We weren’t that good of friends, not to warrant that.

That horrible thing; it didn’t have to be true to be effective, if that’s what you were going for. But you cheapened it with “I love you.” That horrible thing could have stood well enough on its own and maybe we could have worked through it…

JK, JK, JK!!! You and me? We’re done. Oh, we are so over.

So I’m just left to conclude that what we had when we started was already less than what we ended up with.

In other words, we made some excellent progress, you and I.

 

 

 

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Filed under Friends, Friendship, Language, People, Relationships

“My Love, My Love”

“Here you go, my love.”

“Thank you, my love.”

“My pleasure, my love.”

Oh, my love! My love, my love, my love!

They didn’t always do that, this couple I knew. I think they were trying it out, all this my love, my love, adding it to the repertoire of their L-O-V-E, which included (among other things) light (and heavy) petting, hair twirling, hands in each other’s pockets, random back rubs; big, wide smiles. Little quirks, neat tricks. Things to pull out during a lull in the night.

A friend, who was also witness to this romantic display, asked if they were like this all the time.

I don’t know. But I said that it did remind me of a parrot, an African Grey, I once saw at a pet store.

“Hello! Hello! Hello!” it said to anyone who approached the cage. It made a big show of it too.

“Hello! Hello! Hello!”

Did you know? African Greys are among one of the most intelligent birds on earth. They have been known, for example, to outperform children as old as 4 on certain tests, and can learn and build upon a rather impressive collection of words and concepts.

“Hello! Hello! Happy Birthday!”

Did you know that?

The pet store Grey didn’t. At least, I don’t think so.

So it was easy to be charmed by the bird, with its precious words, cute mannerisms and bright, shiny feathers. So it was easy to just go with it, enjoy the show – my love, or no.

 

 

 

 

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Filed under Birds, Emotion, Friends, Pets, Relationships, Ritual

Bad, Worse, Worst Advice

A lot of bad advice – some solicited, most decidedly not – over the years.

1. “If you don’t want to have a baby, just have one.”
2. “You should get married so my daughters can be flower girls at your wedding.”
3. “Just feel sorry for them and help.”

Of these three, only the third has been truly damaging (the first two are blatantly self-serving, but also so patently ridiculous as to be laughable – actually laughed in the face of Advice Giver #2).

Of the three, the third has caused me so much trouble, some heartache.

No one wants to be pitied. To help or be with anyone just because you pity them diminishes you both. Makes you linger in a relationship long after it’s gone bad; makes you engage in one that was bad to begin with. Makes you excuse behaviour (yours, theirs) that in any other circumstance (i.e. those outside the parameters of the pity party circle) would simply not stand in the harsh but brilliant light of day.

Took a while to learn all that because it sounds good, doesn’t it? Pity does.

Pity (noun):*

1. a. sympathetic sorrow for one suffering, distressed, or unhappy; b. capacity to feel pity.

It is as evidently self-serving as it is apparently self-sacrificing. It’s what allows you to invest massive amounts of emotional and physical labour – of time, effort and expense – with little or no or (more often than not), negative return.

All because you feel sorry for someone. Because you feel bad for them. Because you’re a good person doing a good thing for someone you truly, truly needs it (and from you in particular).

Ha.

I have stayed in all manner of toxic relationships because of pity. Pity is what kept us together, even if it kept us down.

Whose fault is that? Whose responsibility? Who’s to be held accountable?

Pity (noun):

2. something to be regretted.

More’s the pity, I suppose.

And less is more.

 

 

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* Source: https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/pity.

 

 

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Filed under Communications, Language, Relationships

Jiggety-Jig

Home again after cutting our holiday time with family short. By more than half, actually. A good ratio, a nice, sane, solid number. A more than reasonable amount of time, so measured.

There was a part of me that feels guilt – tinges of it – for leaving so soon, so abruptly. But then there’s your family and there are your relatives, your sense of self and the imposition of others.

You get to choose. You do.

It’s all relative, really.

What’s that line anyway? The one between fiction and reality?

I can’t imagine it being so thick, or very strong, if pressed.

 

 

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Filed under Change, Family, Holiday, Relationships

Picture of Health

The dietician called me in a half hour before my doctor’s appointment because we “needed to talk.” I say the dietician instead of my dietitian because every time I go to see the dietician for my health program they send me to a different dietician.

This dietician, was a dietician I had not yet met. She seemed solid, serious but also nervous (it was in her eyes). She sat me down in her office, equipped, I was surprised to see, with wide, generous windows and room enough for a table, functional chairs and a large desk.

(I have been in professor’s offices that were little more than storage closets, little less than repurposed cloakrooms.)

“We’re here today because your husband emailed us on your behalf.” There were, she went on, issues he wanted me to discuss with the dietician, a dietician, which today was this dietician. The whole thing was wildly conspiratorial, especially since I know my partner did not (and would not) go behind my back and rat me out, least of all to the/a/this dietician. Anyone.

Whoever that patient was, she was not me, a patient but not the patient under scrutiny.

I asked the dietician to check my file again.

I was right: I was not the patient she thought I was.

She took a closer look at my file.

“You’re doing great!” Then before she could stop herself: “Why are you even here?”

Why? Indeed!

I was then shuffled over to the doctor’s office (not so big or generous of windows, but it had a better view and a larger desk), and was told by this doctor (there are two) that she was “actually not too unhappy” with my progress.

I was then sent on my way, back out to the ether only to have to come back to see them again in a few weeks.

Them, they, whomever they happen to be that day.

Wonder who I will be?

 

 

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Filed under City Life, Health, People, Relationships