This is the end, beautiful friend (Max in Real Life)

This is the end.

Those of you who know me in real life know that I'm a month and a bit away from a big birthday. At the end of September I'll be 35.

Wow. Still can't wrap my head around that. It just seems so...grown.

Aside from the fact that turning 35 officially makes me closer in age to 40 than to 30, this is a milestone birthday because it has always been the hard-stop, no excuses, no matter what age at which I have to quit smoking.

Sigh.

To my knowledge, none of my readers are smokers so I doubt that any of you can really feel me on this. But the idea of forging on through life without my constant companion is more than a little daunting. Except for two years when I accidentally quit smoking, I've been a smoker my entire adult life. It's who I am, what I do, and how I deal. And yes I know it's disgusting. Yes I know it will kill me. I know that I stink and my sense of smell and taste are impaired. But still the idea of life as a non-smoker just seems unholy to me.

I am very curious though to see what happens to my "love" life when I'm smoke-free. In the 15 or so years that I've been smoking I've had innumerable men express their dismay over my penchant for the demon weed. By that logic, once I'm a non-smoker those men should be lining up to take me out. Then I'll get to see if dating is any different when you don't have to duck out for smoke breaks. (I'm kidding, I don't do that. Unless I don't like the dude)

Increase in ass or not, I'm committed to giving it a shot. I have an action plan and it started this week. Just as I didn't become a nicotine junkie overnight, the process is gonna be long. I have a quit date in mind but I'm holding it down for now. But I'm putting my intention out in the universe in the hopes that making a public declaration will somehow galvanize me to make this happen.

I'm also calling on the words of the patron saint of self-destruction (that would be Jim Morrison for those of you who are new) to bid goodbye to my beautiful friend:

This is the end
My only friend, the end
It hurts to set you free
But you'll never follow me
The end of laughter and soft lies
The end of nights we tried to die
This is the end.

Bad Home Habits - Max in Real Life

First things first - have you voted for me yet?All the info you need is right here.
 
I live alone. The greatest sentence in the history of adulthood. There is no greater bliss than having a domain of which you are the sole master; where anything goes and no one can tell you what to do.

At some point of every day I will say a thank you to the gods of habitation for blessing me with my own space. But I am never more grateful for my solitude than when I'm engaging in some sloth.

See I'm not a dirty or particularly messy girl, but I definitely have some bad habits around the house. These are things that make perfect sense to me but annoy the shit out of anyone who has to live with me...and I can't even blame them.

And so - since we keep it real on Thursdays - allow me to share with you my Top 10 Bad Home Habits:

1. Wasting paper towels.

Anyone who knows me in real life knows I'm more than a bit squeamish. Therefore anything that is touching anything that's going in my mouth - dishes, cutlery, penises, countertops - must be vigourously washed and sprayed with vinegar before it touches me. I also have to fanatically wash my hands before I even think about touching food. This means I use a whole lot of paper towels; because using a fresh dish towel every time I need to dry something means too much laundry. On average I use no less than three paper towels to dry my hands. Multiply that by the fact that I wash my hands no fewer than 10 times a day and you see the problem don't you?

2. I keep empty water bottles in the fridge.

I basically only drink bottled water and every time I finish a bottle I throw it back in the fridge. I don't know why I do this.

3. I don't replace the toilet paper roll.

Yes I am that person who takes the fresh roll and places it on top of the empty one. Life is short and I don't have the kind of time that switching it would require.

4. I never turn off/unplug anything.

Blame my parents for this. They basically used to follow us around switching appliances off if we took our eyes off them for one second. In my house, the flat iron and heating pad are always plugged in, the laptop and lights are always turned on. Thank God for the phrase "hydro included".

5. I hate air conditioning and fans.

If you come to my house on a hot day you have three choices to relieve yourself: go on the balcony, remove your clothes, or take the fan into another room. I hate the feeling of cold air hitting me so I've made sure that's not possible at casa maxfab.

4. Taking out the garbage is a man's job.

And I am not a man. Therefore it rarely gets done here. You don't want to know what kinds of measures I take to endure my house doesn't stink of old food.

6. I keep the salt in the living room.

That's where I eat and therefore where I use the salt - where else would I keep it?

7. Ironing is an exercise in futility.

Ironing is the one domestic art that I despise and have no desire to master. It's the dumbest thing ever! You spend all this time pressing wrinkles out of your clothes and then the minute you step out your house it's wrinkled again. Nope.


8. There is no making of the bed.

I'm getting back in there as soon as possible. If it's made it will only slow me down.

9. The tv volume never goes above 3.

The rule in my house is this: if you don't have to concentrate really hard to hear the television, it's too effing loud. In my house not having supersonic hearing means you'll need to press your ears up against the speaker because I get stabby when the tv is too loud.


10. The dishes dry themselves.

Washing and drying a knife right before I go in on a bagel is one thing. Washing a full sink of dishes I'd quite another. In my house clean dishes go straight from the sink to the cupboard with not even the most cursory rub with a paper towel. Why is this? Because dishes dry themselves!

But what do you all think? Men do my bad home habits make you not want to live with me? Ladies don you have any wutless ways you'd like to share? Speak in it in the comments.

Ten Songs I Hate and You Love

First things first: have you voted for me and my buddies yet??

Anyone who knows me in real life knows that I am a contrary person. I don’t like to like the things that everyone likes. It’s a point of pride to me that I’ve never seen Friday, I refuse to watch Glee and True Blood because everyone loves them, and after all the talk about it, I will never watch the video for Best I Ever Had. In fact I’m so contrary that I’m considering giving up my shoe whore status for no better reason than the fact that every chick on the block loves shoes these days.

But in no area of my life am I more contrary than my taste in music. The bigger something gets, the more I run from it. I grudgingly broke down and listened to my first Lil Wayne song last summer and I have no intention of knowing what a Wacka Flocka, Plies, or P.Reign is.  Granted, I pretty much live in a bubble as far as my taste in music is concerned, but there’s nothing that will make me run from a song more than the fact that everyone loves it.

So without further ado, I give you 10 songs I effing hate that you (probably) love.

1. Real Love – Mary J. Blige

This song is soooo played out I literally cannot stand hearing it anymore. There is no less imaginative a song for a DJ to drop in the party than this. Any time I’m out and I hear it I have to throw two middle fingers at the DJ. It was dope at the time but there are a lot of dope Mary tracks…please pick something else. And yes, my ire extends to the remix.

2. Juicy – Notorious B.I.G.

Like everyone else I loved this song when it first came out but now I cannot believe people have the nerve to get themselves all amplified when they hear this in a party. Like – for real? You’re not over it? You haven’t spent enough of your life bawling out “Birthdays were the worst days/Now we sip champagne when we thirst-tay”? This is still exciting for you?

3. Hey Ya – OutKast

Unlike the previous two, I hated this song from the moment I first heard it.  And this is partly because I love old OutKast so much that it hurts my feelings that the people who made Spottieottiedopalicious also made this crap. Honestly this song makes me stabby. Like I really, really want to hurt someone when I hear it.

4. Step in the Name of Love – R. Kelly

I hate this song for itself but I hate it even more because someone always wants to grab my hand and start stepping with me when they hear it. Negro this is not Love Jones and you are not Darius. Let go of my hand and leave me be. I also hate the other one that always comes after it.

5. Just One of Those Days – Monica

Any day that I have to hear this song is “just one of those days “ for me. Haaaate it.

5. Don’t Stop Til You Get Enough – Michael Jackson

I know I’ll get some kind of pass revoked for stating publicly that I hate a Michael Jackson song, but so be it.  I do not like this song. Never have. And I’m about sick of Michael Jackson in general so there are many more that could be added to this list.

6. In Da Club – 50 Cent

This song is so horrible I couldn’t even come up with a blurb to write about it. I had to get my sister on the case. She says “this is one of those songs you should be ashamed to admit you ever liked”. I really couldn’t say it any better than that.

7. Love Like This – Faith

This song is like an assault to my ear drums. I dislike it so much it gives me panic attacks. I cannot stand it.

Sidebar: I also hate that horrible party mix that people always play that has this in it. You know the one? After the Love Like This part it goes “You got a hundred dollar bill put your hands up/You got a fifty dollar bill make noise!” When that comes on I start looking for a sharp object; not to stab myself but to cut the DJ for failing at life.

10. Move B*tch – Ludacris

Hate this song. Hate the obnoxious effect it has on men in the party who think it’s okay to shove people out of the way just because this dumb-ass song is making them hyper.

11. Get Low – Lil Jon & Eastside Boyz

Ugh. Just – ugh. I’m mad I’ve ever even heard this song.

Bonus: Gangster’s Paradise – Coolio

Technically this song shouldn’t even be on this list because I don’t think anyone likes it and if you do get off my blog and never come back, but I hate it so much I felt I had to mention it. I hate it so much I refused to watch the movie that shares its title just out of spite.

Anyone out there hate these songs as much as I do? Do you love them? What’s on your list of most hated by you/loved by everyone songs?

Top 10 Songs You Don't Know

Those of you who know me in real life know that I walk pretty much everywhere I go; therefore my iPod is my constant companion and very best friend. It's filled to capacity with songs for every occasion...from songs that relieve my streetcar irritation (Mobb Deep - Drink Away the Pain) to songs that um, get my motor running (Glenn Lewis - Storm) to songs that soothe my frequent headaches (Foreign Exchange - Daykeeper). It's also filled with some pretty obscure shit that I feel like no one else has ever heard of.

For some strange reason, it saddens me that the songs that give me the most pleasure seem to not have penetrated the consciousness of anyone else I know so I thought I'd share some of them with you in the hopes that you will either reassure me that someone else knows them or that you will come to love them as I do.

So without further ado (because I'm posting this on my iPhone and it's labour-intensive as hell) I give you 10 Songs I Love That You Probably Don't Know:

1. Yeo - Cam'ron

I discovered this on a compilation called Music Inspired by Scarface or something like that. In my humble opinion, it's by far the best song Cam'ron ever made.

2. Extortion - Mobb Deep feat. Method Man

I effing love this song. Meth at his greatest as far as I'm concerned. And you guys know I love me some Mobb Deep.

3. Break Ups 2 Make Ups - Method Man feat. D'Angelo

I'm not the hugest Method Man fan, but I do often find his lyrics hilarious and this is a good example of that. D'Angelo warbles unintelligibly in the chorus as usual.

4. Young G's - Puff Daddy feat. Jay-Z and Biggie

This is everything you'd want a song by these three to be.

5. Ghost - Rick Vocals & Champions - Dame Dash

These are both from the soundtrack of Paid in Full. I'm pretty sure I'm the only person on earth who ever bought that. Plus Champions features vintage Kanye.

6. Cold World - GZA & Winter Warz - Ghostface feat. just about everyone

Two of my favorite songs ever...but no one ever talks about them.

7. Fulton Street - Leshea

Remember that song So Good by Davina? This song is dope in the same way that one is.

8. Blaow - Frank n Dank

I was including this as a nod to Canadian content...but since Frank and Drank are both yanks (hahaha) I'm not sure it qualifies. Either way this is a great song.

9. She Was - Big Black Lincoln

Okay this is CanCon for real. If you don't love this song, listen to it again. If you don't own Heavens Caught on Fire you're missing out.

10. 1, 2, Pass It - D&D All-Stars

This is a big tune. That's all.

Oh wait - I forgot one! Kiss of Death - Jadakiss. He has two songs called Kiss of Death, don't ask me why. But the one I'm talking about is from Rough Riders Vol. I. Great song that no one else seems to know.

So that's my list. Any of you know or love these songs? What songs do you love that everyone else sleeps on? School us in the comments.

Are You Good? (Max in Real Life)

Only a few days left to nominate me and my blogging buddies for the Black Weblog Awards...have you done it yet?

Last night I got the words "I am bad" tattooed on my back. I meant it in the Run DMC sense rather than the literal sense and if you don't know what that means get off my blog and never come back but still when I looked at it this morning it seemed...a little wrong. In a way I felt like having that sentence permanently etched on me was equal to publicly declaring that I'm not a good person. But am I?

Every Sunday I wake up with the intention to go to church. Sometimes I make it, moretimes I spend the church hour doing my nails writing blog posts about sex and abusing my body by stuffing it full of homefries and nicotine. So am I a good person because I believe in God enough to want to go to church? Or am I a bad person because I never rarely go?

I'm a generous person, I work hard to be considerate and invested in people's lives. But I'm also unfriendly and can be selfish...at least if you subscribe to the theory that ignoring my friends' phone calls equals selfish. I try to let the people I care about feel cared for but I also live a pretty hedonistic lifestyle and shun long-lasting connections with people. I have great sympathy for many causes but can rarely rouse myself to do anything altruistic to help them.

Am I a good person? Sometimes I can't tell.

I mean - I think I am, but who ever really believes they are a bad person? And what does being a good person even mean? I used to know a man who I described as "a really good guy with really bad behaviour" until a friend of mine said that you can't divorce one's behaviour from one's character...if you act badly you're bad. At the time it struck me as really strident but then again at the end of the day what do we really have to go on in our relationships but how the person acts toward us?

This is something that I work around in my brain endlessly, so I thought I'd share it with you guys to see if anyone else out there thinks about this. So tell me, the pitiful few of you who comment on Thursdays dear readers, what does being a good (or bad) person mean to you? Which do you consider yourself? And can we change from one to the other or are our positions on the good-bad spectrum set in stone? Are goodness and badness functions of our behaviour or what lies beneath? Speak on it in the comments.

The Go-To Person (Max in Real Life)

Since Thursdays are all about my real life, I'm gonna be real with you guys and tell you I'm having a shitty week, so do me a solid and go nominate me for the Black Weblog Awards. If you already did it, browbeat a friend into doing it. I could use a pick me up. </guilttrip>

So last night I finally figured out how to unscrew the light fixtures in my apartment so I could replace the bulbs that burned out six months ago recently. Even though this isn't a difficult thing I was pretty excited because in the past it was something that I would have waited around for my Daddy or the ex to do for me. My excitement was pretty short-lived though when I realized that I'm kinda tired of doing this shit for myself.

See it's not that I want a relationship, but I do want someone I can count on. Don't get me wrong - I have friends and they're great and I have a sister who is amazing, but sometimes you just want that one-stop shop of a person who, in theory at least, is there to help you work out your shit big or small.

What I have instead and what I've always had is a group of people in my life whom I can go to for different things. Right now the most important ones are:

1. My work wife who commiserates with my horrific workload and spies for me, smokes with me and pep talks me.

2. My girls who see me tweet that I need a hug and instantly reach out to ask what's wrong and what I need and make me howl with laughter in our nightly gchat conferences.

3. My mother who makes me forget whatever is ailing me by giving me shit about the most ridiculous and random things.

4. My sister, who I almost never contact when I'm bothered but who I know would be there if I did.

5. My "jack in the box" who pops in and out of my gchat through the day and blesses me with some wisdom or insight or randomness or comedy and stops me from stabbing myself in the eye breaks up the monotony of the day.

This isn't the sum total of the people in my life by a long shot. But these are the ones who have been saving my soul these last few crappy weeks. And on balance I know I'm quite lucky - not everyone has a roster like this. And I'm grateful for it, but at the same time I can't help but daydream about having one person in my life who does all of this at once. Someone who knows me well enough to give me the right advice for my personality and my issues and not just the knee-jerk, "it sounds good" advice that most people give. Someone handy enough to switch the satelitte receivers in my bedroom and living room so I can have the "good box" in my bedroom. Someone who is as equipped to give me advice about what colour shoes to wear with a lime-green dress as s/he is to advise me about what my next career move should be. A person who will force me to rest when I'm doing too much and ride my ass hard (pause?) when I'm slacking. Someone who is close enough to me to recognize when I need help even if I don't ask for it (I'm bad at asking for it). And someone who has the time and inclination to do this.

This is what I daydream about when I have those periods when I feel like life is beating me down. Or boosting me up. When something really really good or really really bad happens and I don't have that obvious "first call" person. When I enter a contest to win a trip for two somewhere and wonder who I'd take with me if I won.

So does such a person exist? Am I talking about a boyfriend? A husband? A very best friend? An employee? What do you guys think? Anyone have someone like this in their life? Speak on it in the comments.

A Change is Gonna Come (Max in Real Life)

When I was a little girl I knew that I would grow up and move to Toronto. And I did. There were three specific streets I wanted to live on and I've lived on nearly on all of them.  So that's pretty much mission accomplished too...so now what do I do?

Moving here was by far the biggest change I've ever inflicted on myself. Way bigger and way harder (pause?) than I thought it would be, but definitely the best move I ever made. Every time I make a trip home, every time I look through an old friend's photos on Facebook, every time I hear about another friend getting married or having a baby I'm convinced that moving here was the right thing to do.

After 12 years though, I'm starting to feel antsy. Toronto is amazing, I love it. My sister is here, my friends, and a lot of my family even though I do everything I can to avoid them. If I have a home in this world at all (I feel like I don't but that's another post for another Thursday) it's Toronto. But Toronto is just not that fun anymore.

Maybe that's the wrong way to put it, considering my life consists of laughing my ass off with my friends, dressing up and strutting my hot ass when I feel like it, and retreating to the solitude of my apartment when it all becomes too much. I can't say that that's not a fun life. But it's just...it's not new anymore. Everyone I've ever wanted to befriend here is now my friend. I have now (as of last Wednesday) attended every party I've ever wanted to attend. I've slept with met every dude I ever crushed on. What's left?

The idea of packing up and moving to a new city has been calling me lately. I'm dreaming about it, day dreaming about it. Researching it when I should be working and writing and re-writing my top 5 list of cities I want to live in. Discussing it lengthily and lustily with my sister. All of a sudden I - the queen of routine, she who shuns broad horizons - want to pack it up and plant my fork in uncharted territory.

Unfortunately I no longer have the blissful ignorance of my early twenties to stop me from considering things like what if I can't get a job? What if I get too lonely? How will I move all my books? I'm not leaving my books! What if I never find anyone one to have sex with hate it? Not to mention that if I were to leave the country I'd be forced to say goodbye to Timothy's and Tim Hortons (I know they have Tim Hortons elsewhere in the world but I just don't believe it will taste the same). And the fact that I hated it here when I first moved makes me wonder....what if I uproot my whole life and decide I want the old one back?

All the same though I think I'd like to try it. At the very least, it would give me a lot to blog about.

But what do you guys think? Should I take a leap and head for parts unknown or just "stop home" as my dad would say? Have you ever made a big move or taken a similar leap? Do you regret it? And if you have suggestions of where I should go....drop em in the comments.

p.s. I know I've been uncharacteristically maudlin on here the last little while but I'm coming with some comedy for you tomorrow....fret not.

Max in Real Life: Do I Spend Too Much Time Online?

Have you nominated me and my blogging buddies for the Black Weblog Awards yet? You can get all the details and sh*t over here.

Here's what a typical day in the life of max looks like: I wake up, suck down a bottle of water, and head for my laptop. I check out what's going on in the world: Twitter, SingleBlackMale.org, and ThreeWaystoTakeit.com. I shower, deal with my hair, and come back and check the weather online. I get dressed and head for work; tweeting or foursquare'ing my whereabouts along the way.

I get to work around 7:45 am most days. When I get to my desk I hit twitter again, peek at Facebook, and check out the 200+ new posts in my Google Reader while I eat my breakfast; commenting on anything that catches my interest.  Once that's finished it's time for work to begin. I tell other people how to do their work,  while furiously gchatting and tweeting all day long. Then I come home, get on twitter, and fellowship with my e-girls and fight over e-boyfriends until it's time to go to bed. Next day I do it all again.

But in the last two days, three-dimensional circumstances have kept me from spending as much time online as I normally do. The pain of separation from my #1 gchat love yesterday was felt as badly as any other separation I've ever endured. Last weekend I spent more time "talking" to my twitterfriends than I did my real-life friends. And these days my sex life consists of pornographic dreams about Slim Jackson since he changed his profile pic male bloggers.

Is this too much, do you think?

On the one hand, I say no. I'm a lone wolf by nature, and all this e-interaction allows me to have the best of both worlds; solitude and connections with real people. Plus as a blogger it's my responsibility to interact with my readers and get to know them, isn't it? And furthermore, I work in emerging media; it's my job to be au courant with social media...right?

Then on the other hand I wonder if what I'm doing is really just hiding from the world. But no, that's way too maudlin and dramatic. So maybe what it is is that I'm taking the lazy approach to life. An approach that allows me to "experience" things without leaving my apartment or changing out of my pajamas. Is that really such a bad thing?

My bestie would say yes. But then again, she is also known to have spent many a weekend holed up in her bed ordering in her meals and watching Hoarders marathons. So I say let she who is not without anti-social tendencies cast the first stone.

As with all of life's toughest conundrums, I put it to you dear readers. Is there such a thing as spending too much time online or am I just being efficient? Is striking a balance between e-life and real life something you strive for, or something that you don't even think about? Hit me with your perspective in the comments.

And don't forget the nominations for the Black Weblog Awards! Easy instructions are right here.

Max in Real Life - I Hate the Phone!

Have you nominated me and my blogging buddies for the Black Weblog Awards yet? You can get all the details and sh*t over here.

If you judged me solely on the content of this blog, you would think that I live an interesting and sometimes dramatic life filled with bad boys and good sex. The reality however, is slightly less exciting. Yes I do have a little less than my fair share of good sex with inappropriate dudes, but in general my life is comprised of 7:00pm bedtimes, Cheerios eaten in bed, and book-buying sprees at my neighbourhood Goodwill. Without tarnishing your image of me as a wanton sex goddess too greatly, I thought I'd start a new Thursday series - Max in Real Life - where I talk about anything other than men, sex, and dating.

Today I want to talk about the phone. I love my phone, but I hate talking on the phone even more than I hate 5:45am workouts. I hate it more than girls who cry after sex, more than busy dudes, I even hate it more than panty meats. And you know how much I hate a panty meat.

Unfortunately, I have been blessed with a group of friends who - despite being otherwise superior human beings - effing love the phone. Their penchant for wiling away hours on the phone coupled with my puss-puss inability to extricate myself from said idle chit chat creates a big problem.

At first I sucked it up and stayed on the phone for as long as the conversations lasted. But then I would look at the time and see that 1, 2, 3 hours had gone by and heave a huge sigh. With a burning cheek and ear I would look over at my unread book, my unwritten blog post, my unfolded laundry, and bemoan the phone vortex that sucked away all my time and energy.

Then I implemented a unilateral no-phone-answering policy. Calls from known time-suckers were summarily ignored. If I had the idea that they might have been calling for a real reason, I would text or BBM asking what was up. This was met by all manner of rude and ignorant responses and that mission was quickly aborted as well.

I resumed accepting all phone calls on good faith that my friends would respect my feelings about the phone and not call me just so I could listen to them breathe as they watched tv, read emails, or talk to other people in the room. That went okay for a while but a recent 3-hour long call with a girlfriend (who then had the audacity to call me back twice more that night) showed me that the situation was becoming out of control. A few weeks later I was on the phone while doing my post-workout stretching and realized that this is a crisis…

Now before I continue, let me explain to my phone-loving readers why I hate talking on the phone so much. For one thing, it’s a time-sucker. I’ll get on the phone thinking it’s going to just be a quick chat and next thing I know the whole afternoon has passed and I’ve accomplished nothing.

Second, phone conversations don’t really lend themselves well to multi-tasking. I’ve tried eating while on the phone, masturbating while on the phone, reading while on the phone, and watching TV while on the phone and none of those activities are anywhere near as pleasurable as they are on their own.

Third, it feels like jail to me. I’m sorry, but it just does. When I’m on the phone for more than 10 minutes, I feel trapped, caged in, imprisoned. No matter whom I’m talking to, no matter what I’m talking about, at least 25% of my brain is wondering how the fuck I can get off this call without hurting anyone’s feelings.

I hate talking on the phone.

The other day I announced on Twitter that I was implementing a “no-phone calls after 7:00pm” policy. I think this is a fair compromise – if you have something to say to me you have the hours of 5:00am – 7:00pm in which to do so. My twitterfriends who don’t have my phone number applauded this rule, while my real-life friends called it rude and dumb. Rude and dumb it may be, but last night, each time my phone rang after 7:00pm and I pressed that beautiful button that silences the ringer, I smiled.

What about you guys? Does anyone feel me on this or am I getting a collective side-eye right now? Tell me how you feel about the phone.


And don't forget the nominations for the Black Weblog Awards! Easy instructions are right here.