You know you’re failing the social media game when … people you actually know in real life unfollow you on Twitter.

How awkward.

Do I unfollow them back? Except if I do, then they’ll know that I know, which is even, you know, awkwarder. Except I’ve put up with their lame ass tweets without complaint and this should be an easy out.

And, what happens when I see them in person again? Do I pretend like I somehow don’t know that they unfollowed me? What’s the etiquette here? Of course there probably isn’t a set etiquette because you’re not supposed to get unfollowed by people you actually know!

And dammit, why won’t Johnny Depp make more movies where he just looks handsome!

When someone tells me that they’re doing a ‘cleanse’ I usually have to try not to roll my eyes. As soon as cleanses are introduced into a discussion, toxins are not far behind. It’s embarrassing. I have to tune out of the conversation in order to maintain respect for the person I’m talking to. Would you like to buy some Kinoki foot pads? No, that’s foolish – everybody knows that the only way to get rid of toxins is through the digestive tract. Alternatively, wearing the t-shirts offered in my GurgleSlurp shop are a surefire way to extract toxins from your chest and back, protecting the heart and vital organs. In fact, if you’re not wearing a GurgleSlurp shirt, toxins are already causing irreparable harm!

So anyway, I’m doing this cleanse.

Yeah, I know.

Every once in a while my post Ulcerative Colitis tummy starts to hurt. Nothing to call the Gastroenterologist over – a colonoscopy would reveal a perfect colon. It just hurts. The cure is just to stop eating for a couple of days, but that pretty much sucks too. I hate being hungry. I’d rather have a tummy ache than hunger pangs. So instead, I figured I would try a ‘cleanse’ of some sort.

I have the whole UC thing to work around so all of the pro poop cleanses were out of the question. I didn’t want anything that lasted more than a few days – so none of those 3 week no meat no cheese no gluten no anything you might actually want to eat plans. I didn’t just want to drink fruit juices – I can eat sugar for days on end, but I don’t really like to drink it – but I also wanted to avoid a lot of chewing. Also, I don’t really want to lose any weight, so it would have to have enough calories in it. So I tried one of the shakes and vegetable juice plans.

Today was day one. And I think I might be done with it. The shakes are disgusting! The vegetable juice is okay, but … the shakes are disgusting! Who could drink this more than once? Maybe if I believed in toxins I could scare myself into drinking it, but I don’t, so I can’t. Maybe it’ll be better in my porridge, that’s a chew free meal.

Maybe I should just stop having chocolate for breakfast.

This past weekend, my sister and I went with my mom (64) and her friends to a seniors’ singles dance. They go every week, sometimes twice. My parents are still married, but her friends are all sixties singles. My sister is making a documentary about them and attended the previous week’s event with them, so she knew what to expect and was over the surprise. I on the other hand, was pretty dumbfounded.

First of all, I was shocked at how dolled up everyone was. I don’t know what I expected or why. I’ve seen my mom and other women her age out and about and they dress well. But I was still surprised to see older gals in (age appropriate) club wear. These were ladies on the prowl.

Second, I was baffled at how great some of the women’s bodies looked. There were a few younger women there, in their twenties to thirties, and from the back you couldn’t tell who was who. Yes, this may say something about the youngin’s in attendance, but it speaks mainly to the older gals. They were in great shape!

Third, and most shocking, if the lights were slightly dimmer – or if I had more alcohol – I would have had no idea that the room was filled with seniors. I could have easily believed that I had wandered into any random club. How awesome. I don’t know where my misconceptions about older people came from, but they’ve been adjusted to reflect reality.

Also of interest:

• Most of the music was current dance stuff that I totally didn’t know
• Almost all the other women knew all the words to just about every song
• I didn’t notice even one man offer to buy a woman a drink
• (I think they’ve learned that it really doesn’t get you anywhere)
• (And I imagine that they are on a fixed income)
• Men asked women to dance extremely easily, no awkwardness, no aggressiveness, and if they were turned down, they just smiled and asked the next women
• It doesn’t matter how old the crowd is, there will always be a couple on the dance floor seriously making out

About 3 or 4 times a year for maybe the last 15 years, I have a dream where my teeth start falling out of my mouth. The dream varies, sometimes I’m at a party, sometimes I’m at home brushing my teeth, whatever, at some point, either a tooth (or multiple teeth) feels loose, or just pops out of my mouth like a Chicklet. I’m usually pretty horrified, and usually will try to push the tooth back in my mouth. The whole thing is tense and awful and it’s about as close to a nightmare as I ever have.

I don’t know if the dream is actually about a fear of losing my teeth, as I don’t have a conscious fear of toothlessness, in fact, if I wasn’t such a lazy ass, I’d have already made an appointment to have a couple of them yanked. This isn’t something creepy, my wisdom teeth have been growing in, on and off for years now. They’ve pushed all my teeth forward to make room for themselves, and while no one has begun referring to me as ‘bucky,’ I do have to do something to remedy the problem. That means: getting my wisdom teeth out, and then getting braces or something like it. How many pairs of Louboutin heels are there to a full set of Invisalign?

Oh.

Really? That many? Crap.

The Princess and I have been together for something like, a dozen years? Nope, eleven years, we’re in our twelfth. We’re a pretty lovey dovey couple, but we’re continually stumped by obligatory romantic occasions. For at least the last eight years, we’ll reach February before one of us remembers that our “anniversary” has past. Then a couple weeks later he wakes up with a start exclaiming,

“Crap! It’s my brother’s birthday tomorrow!”

Which leads us to the realisation that today is Valentine’s Day. Tomorrow everyone will want to hear how the oooiest gooiest couple they know marked the occasion, and we’ll disappoint them yet again. Really, by now they should expect this. Granted, when we tell people that we just stayed in, I think it’s received with a bit of a saucy wink.

I’m pretty sure we’ve never done anything for our anniversary (though this year we decided to try to do something next time), and we’ve done at least two Valentine’s Days. Once we went out for dinner in Toronto – I don’t remember the restaurant, but it was fancy and expensive. The food was good, but we were seated next to a bizarre couple. The guy was so Japanese maffia (figuratively), and he spent the entire dinner snapping at various people on his two cell phones, and checking his pager (this was long enough ago that people still used pagers). The woman was wearing something like six grand worth of clothes (including her shoes and bag), and maybe another grand in jewellery. She didn’t seem to notice that her boyfriend spoke just one sentence to her the entire meal. The other time – also in Toronto, we had both forgotten VDay, but the Princess bought me a really awesome motorcycle jacket, so we decided to call it a Valentine’s present. It didn’t fit my gangling arms, but I was able to have it altered.

So what’s up for tonight? Well, we’re staying in.