My two favourite postions are sitting and laying horizontally on the floor, playing with my cats.
Because I am becoming possibly the most lazy person I know, but I don't need to go on welfare because 'I get money, yo. I get money!".
I keep blaming the fact that I'm constantly sick on my lack of production, which I believe is my scape-goat, but a damn good one at that.

I have even gotten into the habit of demanding my mother getting me a drink, when she has thirty-eight other things to be doing before she wanders off to work.
"Mommy! .... MOMMY!!!! I need orange juice!!!", and I inform her that I will indeed vomit if I get up.
Sometimes that is the case, but there are times that I am crying wolf, my friends.
I find it bizarre that she allows me to get away with this behaviour, but I am her baby and not dabbling in drugs and alcohol is quite remarkable in itself.
I'll grow up someday, mother dear. Pinky swear.. But this is what you get for forcing me to live a sheltered existence.
And for stealing my new high heels last week, I did realize they weren't in my closet!

On the boy front -- things are progressing, and I don't understand why a title is so important at this point, and every time he tries to explain himself I cut him off and say "It IS my decision. I'm not ready for that yet."
Cue look of disappointment and him trying to read my mind by staring into my eyes in an intense fashion AND me feeling like an asshole.

I've pondered and asked him many times "How do you put up with me?" in recent days, because I am a handful, which I admit.
Each time he says "It's SOOO hard!". The sarcasm makes me not so agitated, but he will not admit that I'm a pain in the ass, and I also know that is very much true.
Yesterday we discussed what we've wanted in a significant other and qualities they have to have for things to work, and I said "I think I need to marry someone with the patience of a saint and the best sense of humor possible, or....it's just doomed..".
He laughed, and said "Anything else?"  and I grinned and said "No broken egos either! I don't need to be responsible for their shit."
That was an indirect tear at him, because his father has mentally screwed him up into thinking he won't do anything great with his life. Meanwhile, he's going to one of the most respectable universities in Ontario.
Point being, I had to quickly apologize and tell him that he's wonderful and things reverted back to being comfortable and happy with eachother.
When I asked what he looks for, he put a hand on my cheek and said "Looking at it."
Precious! Precious! Precious!
... I think I might actually need to consider him. Why do I have to be in love with my ex, WHY?

I have a doctor's appointment on Monday, on account of the fact I vomit acid and blood on the daily.
My mom is all "OMG what if you die??" and I giggle and inform her that I am seeing a man that is delicious so that isn't allowed to happen.
But seriously, she's not that melodramatic, she just tends to panic over tedious things.

My friend Amanda looked at me across the table, while we ate THE MOST INCREDIBLE SPAGHETTI IN THE WORLD, and asked "Why don't you wear bright colours? - I don't get it, you're so positive and loud, but you like greys and blacks." 
My amazing counter-argument was "My scrubs are hot pink!" and she retaliated that the animals I work with cannot tell the difference. Touche.

This then resulted in me venturing to Old Navy, because I feel like everything they sell is bold and bright. Most times I cover my eyes and make a mad dash for the jeans, today I walked around in circles.
My purchases consisted of two bright as the sun yellow tank tops, and a green - ew, green and I don't love eachother - tube top. Which actually look cute with my dark hair, but in a few weeks when that is gone back to platinum blonde it will definitely look retarded and I will revert back to pretending I'm black.
But I have discovered -- spring purchases DO infact make me happy!

Tomorrow I have a day-baking date with the boy when he gets off school. Ra ra ra.
I also think it's quite strange that we spent an hour conversing about his university's cellphone registry so they can send Code Red alerts to students cellphones so they are aware if there is somebody about to shoot up the school instead of announcements and silly stuff.
I thought it was crafty, but apparently only like 1/18th of the school population has registered their cellphone number. Don't be gay, kids.

I'm difficult to please, but there is a boy who is trying awfully hard to keep things splendid.
Any man to bring me a strawberry smoothie, a bowl of berries and a handful of vitamins while I'm puking my face off - and then rush over to hold my hair, A plus.

My father just came home with a new blackberry, and for a savvy business man, he was entirely confused at how to work it.
I laughed hysterically and input 150+ numbers into his damn phone.
And then I told him he's buying me a pair of shoes.
Done deal.

Ian - Mishu says:
so i get this text from my co-worker
Ian - Mishu says:
saying "oh my god your girlfriend is like a foot tall. i could put her in my pocket!"
Candace says:
I'm glad that standing beside you while you pump gas makes me your girlfriend.
Ian - Mishu says:
well lets think about this
Ian - Mishu says:
when she drove by and i waved you were hiding in my jacket
Ian - Mishu says:
that was still on my body
Ian - Mishu says:
a plus b is c
Candace says:
Fuck off! Next time you can hold your own gas tank cap. Be a man!
Candace says:
And A + B = AB, jerk.


.. I think I should be slightly alarmed that we have been spotted on several occasions - and the assumption that we're together is one that has come from the lips of the spotters.
And it doesn't at all help that he encourages my kind-of-flirtacious behaviour and hints at our 'hanging out' being referred to as 'dates'.
OH - and fuck that girl. I'm not THAT short.