May 9, 2006

I met with my investment counsellor Nectarios again today.

It didn't go so well as our first date.

When he asked me what kind of investments I wanted. I said;

"I don't know, I want the kind that have strong/stable growth and large returns."

Then I said;

"I guess that's like asking for someone who loves you for your personality but is also incredibly good looking, right?"

We worked out a 70/30 split in the direction of looks over stability. I mean, growth over stability, right.

Poor Nectarios, I asked all sorts of questions and unfortunately our metaphoric approaches to finance were completely at odds.

He said; " It's like, you know when you're driving you should always check behind and in front when you stop. That's why you want to be aware of your portfolios future and historic growth trends."

I said;

"Nectarios, I just got my learners permit two weeks ago."

He said;

"Oh."

Oh. That's my kinda answer.

What else? I caved and bought a cellular phone, not because that many people call me, but so I have something to do now while I am waiting in lines. And so that when I hear other people being obnoxious on their phones I can whip out my scarlet bad-boy and obnox right back at them.

Oh yeah it was free (the phone) and it came rght to my door, that helped a lot too. When you're screaming down the land-line; "Talk louder my phone is broken!" and the doorbell rings and the nice young man from Telus is standing there holding out a bright red video phone for free. 70/30 rules.

Speaking of obnoxius, I am trying to divorce my grief counsellor. I am evidently not grieving anymore. Most of what I whine about these days has the definite odour of belly-ache about it, and frankly, ever since the dancing frog episode I have wondered at the actual use-value of our sessions.

I forgot I had an appointment yesterday, she met me outside and we sat on the buildings stoop and a session.

Frog Lady: "So do you think you still need to refer to yourself as a bisexual?"

Me: "What!?"

Frog Lady: "Is it still important to you that you define yourself as a bisexual"

Me: "Well, yes, I am still interested in both sexes, so why wouldn't I?" (Note of mistrust enters voice).

What I should have said was, "So the fact that I am not seeing a girl means that I must not be interested in girls.. The fact is I am not seeing anyone right now, so by your logic I must be asexual. Personally I prefer the word picky, but hey I am not a mental health porfessional, now am I? Oh and FTR I prefer the word queer, it's so much more inclusive."

Which was just the tip of the iceberg.. fer craps sake.

Two minutes later she's asking me to describe a particular habit of mine that I think contributes to some not insignificant moments of self-criticism and low self esteem. Sensitive stuff this, I mean, not 10 hanky material, but the kind of information that I assume a qualified therapist may perhaps be able to help me out with.

Except that half-way through my second sentence Frog Lady stops me and starts waving maniacally at someone coming up the street. It's a young lady, my age, maybe little older. Frog lady and young lady launch into an animated discussion about a fundariaiser at which Frog Lady met the young lady's parents. Frog lady loves them, she wants to sail with them. etc.. (Unfortunately Frog Lady though a fan of sailing has no boat and thus cannot rightfully claim the title sailor, bien non?)

Of course I am such a wimpstar I didn't interject at any point to say; "Ahem we were discussing my self-esteem issues, I am paying you, I don't care what fershnicken fundraiser you saw blondies family at, we're on my dime. NO! of course not, I just sat there staring at the buds falling off the trees feeling like a badly strummed guitar. That's why I am in *therapy* for craps sake. Because I
have trouble standing up for myself and dealin with conflict in a proactive self- affirming manner (I take it all out on the blog obviously).

(self-dialogue)Relationships have died for lesser crimes than this, I haven't learned a damn thing. sigh.

Anyways.

Blondie finally walks away. She has the smile of someone who is either heavily medicated or perpetually insincere. I hate that.

Frog Lady turns to me, and says "I love that girl, she's so pretty, so cute, nice too, and smart, she's amazing. She an dher husband just had a little baby, just incredible, and her parents! Such nice people, her father is incredibly wealthy, but her mother was really simple, I mean her jewelery I have never seen such diamonds, but still really simple, and that girl just has such a good heart...It just goes to show you that it isn't money that makes a person good or bad.. it's "

I didn't catch the rest, the twangy guitar had turned angry power chord.
Not because of this girl she can be and probably is whoever she wants to be, (although her smile was totally obnoxious) because of my redonkulous *therapist* sitting there name-dropping on my nickel.

For fecks sake I don't care if the rich are nice and simple, I just want to feel good about the person I am, the rich can take of themselves.

As Jen said that's a couple a thousand bucks well spent.

so yeah, I'm in the market for a handpuppet that looks like Freud and can speak in a german accent.

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