Most days, I am fine with being alone and raising Josh. I know that this is what I signed up for, and I wouldn't trade it in for anything, much as it drains me sometimes.

But there are other times, like today, when I find myself begging God for a partner. A good man who won't cheat or lie or betray my trust. A man who will honour his relationship with me and Josh above all things and never let anyone interfere with it. A man who would walk over glass if it meant he could save me from being hurt. It seems an impossible wishlist, especially given the calibur of men that I see around me. My generation has raised very few gentlemen.

And yet, I know there is a lot that is wrong with me. I know that I am crass and uncouth and I think in violent black and white sometimes. I know that I am insecure and jaded from having been cheated on so many times. I've watched men who promised me their fidelity and undying devotion walk away so many times that I've stopped believing in "I love you" as anything more than a token expectation after 2 or 3 months together.

So I wonder if it's realistic for me to hope and wish and dream and ask. Perhaps I don't really even deserve the type of relationship I long for. I'm not the gentle, soulful, thoughtful girl I would really like to be. I'm not the mellow, kind, patient person I admire so well. And I've always said that I'd never ask of someone what I couldn't also deliver, so maybe I've already lost the race before even leaving the starting point.

I can't change my circumstances. I can't be the fun, cute, carefree single girl I would really like to be. And subduing my fiesty protective and defensive personality seems an insurmountable task. So for now, all I can pray is, God make me nicer. Reming me to talk less, listen more. Be patient, be considerate, be genuinely sweet. I don't want to be a cheese grater anymore. I don't want to hate myself anymore.

Shit.

Because I'm too sick to post anything of substance

Last week, I had to take Josh into the ER. Turns out he had croup. Then it morphed into The Cold That Wouldn't Die. And he gave it to me. So now we're both miserable sad sacks with no energy and no interest in leaving the apartment.

So, here's some photos instead. I still want to talk about my weekend in Peterborough with one of the coolest couples I know (Trent & Vanessa) and I have about 3/4 of a entry saved in my drafts here, but I have to wait until some miraculous healing comes down from heaven before I can finish it and post it.

Love to you all. Be well.

Notice to the working poor:

Unless you want to buy a condo. We got lots of those, and we're using every piece of available space in the whole city to build more.