Things I Am Afraid Of

I remember being in, maybe grade 5? Our English teacher made us write an anonymous letter talking about the things that we were afraid of. I'm pretty sure this was after we had just watched one of those PSA videos on the birds and bees of growing up. At one point in the video a young girl accidentally dropped a tampon right in front of the boy she had a crush on. We all laughed at her, but in the video the boy picked it up for her and smiled. Thanks a lot PSA, that NEVER happened to me. In fact, my mom wouldn’t even buy me tampons for the longest time because she thought they were “Too much like a penis.” Yup. Oh Mom, I love you. Those were the actual words that were used one day when we got into an argument in the feminine hygiene aisle at the pharmacy.

I sort of suspect that those anonymous letters were just a time killer for our teacher that day, and I was a little upset because I felt like I poured my fucking heart out into that letter and we never heard or saw anything to do with them again.

I remember writing that I was afraid to get my period, I was afraid of my parents dying, and I was afraid of growing up and not knowing what to do. My parents did not die (yay!), but I did get my period, and eventually realized that no know really knows what to do; they just trick you into thinking otherwise.

It would be fair to say that a lot has changed since that day in grade 5; namely that I am now afraid of a shit ton more things. Oh childhood, it was all so much easier when legitimate fears where things like whether Wolverine would survive having the adamantium ripped from his body, or if I would find my plastic Apatosaurus that I left near the pool the other day.

What am I afraid of now? Well friends, here is what my adult list would say:

. Sharks- The logical part of my brain tells me it is very, very unlikely I would be attacked by a shark while swimming in the ocean. The Discovery Channel tells me that if I was, it would be a mistake. My right leg and half missing torso tells me that is a pretty big fucking mistake.

. Millipedes- The big ones with the long, hairy legs. Groooss! Dry heave.

. Air kisses- I think this is self-explanatory.

. Kevin Bacon- Have you seen Hollow Man???

. Stephenie Meyer continuing to be a New York Times Bestseller.

. Game of Thrones season 3 not being as fucking badass as season 1 & 2 because SPOILER: the zombie-walkers or whatever, were exterior-shot-of-the-submarine-from-LOST lame. Totally ruined it for me. Zombies are stupid, so let's just never go there again, okay?

. My body slowly starting to fail me.

. My dogs eating my new Sperry Top-Siders. Again.

. I'm still afraid of my parents dying, because jesus christ, they've always been here! I love them! Please don't leave me yet. I'm not ready.

. Crocs- Please. Just stop it with these horrible atrocities against good taste.

. Stupid superficial stuff like my boobs getting saggy, my face getting wrinkly, my ass getting flat.

. Never paying off my debt.

. That you will let logic win out over your heart.

. Angie never leaving her husband for me.

. STEVE HOLT! Not getting his chance on the big screen.

. Never getting to see Celine Dion in concert. Serious. I love that woman. Her televised concerts make me cry big, ugly, baby tears.

. I am afraid that you are gone forever, and that I will never see you again. I miss the way you talk.

. My dogs one day figuring out how to surmount the impenetrable wall (i.e. the long, skinny mirror that is turned lengthwise and lies across the doorway in front of my bedroom).

. Getting my period unexpectedly while sleeping at a boy's house.

. Unexpectedly not getting my period after sleeping at a boy's house.

. Fish touching me. That's not a euphemism for anything. I mean that. Seriously. No touching.

. That the wizard is still holding my heart hostage.

. That the wizard is actually Alexander Skarsgard, and he will never realize that we are actually soul mates destined to dance together in the garden of passion and love (and sexy times!) for all of eternity, until the end of time.

. I am afraid not of being alone, but ending up alone.

. Even more, falling into the security of thinking that someone will always be there, because the truth of it is, they won't. No one ever is. None of us are bulletproof. None of us are impervious to disease and illness and cancer and life and time. None of us are immortal.
And what if they come to see you fully, to know you inside and out, to love you in a way you had previously not known; then one day, after years and years and family and birthdays and holidays and good days and bad days and couch days and so many days, they leave? 
I am afraid of being blindsided.

. I am afraid that this doesn’t get easier. But I don’t think that it’s supposed to.

- Natalie Bell, surprisingly, sleeps pretty soundly at night.

Angie and I Talk About Our Period Underwear

Oh, what's that? You missed Shark Week? Dry your eyes little dragons, because there's another kind of Shark Week I'll bet you didn't even know about, and it's a whole lot bloodier. Yup. I'm talking about Period Week. My sister referred to it as that one time, and it pretty much took off from there. 

So listen up dudes, we think it's disgusting too, but it's just a part of life. Deal with it. You know what else is disgusting? Peeing in the shower. The difference is that's not just a part of life, that's a choice. And this is why boys are not allowed at my house.

Angie: Hey, have you had this spa treatment yet?

Me: Oh yeah. I had that on my first day here. It was great, though overwhelming. I had literally just arrived in town the day before after driving across the country, and then showed up for my first day of work, and I think I was still on EST and feeling all kinds of weird emotions that I can't talk about because ewww, feelings. But I just felt unprepared, though extremely grateful to get this awesome treatment right off the bat.

Angie: Unprepared?

Me: Yeah, well I mean I wasn't expecting to have a massage or anything, and I had just been in a car for 5 days, and I was wearing trousers, so I hadn't shaved in awhile. Also, don't judge me, I was wearing underwear from the shark week roster. Because of the 5 day car thing... and definitely not because I was too lazy to dig out a nice pair.

And then on top of that I had never had a treatment with the body scrub and bath part too, so when the therapist told me to get fully undressed, I was all "You want me to get naked?" and "You are also staying in the room while I have a bath?" I didn't know it was for safety purposes, and not for, you know, voyeur purposes.

Angie: Hahaha! Shark week roster. You have that too?

Me: I just assumed everyone did.

Angie: One time I went to the chiropractor, and I was totally wearing shark week panties, but it's not like you could tell how battleworn they were, I thought, but then the chiro off-handedly says, "Oh, interesting colour."

Me: Your chiro commented on the colour of your underwear?

Angie: Yes! So when I got home I was all paranoid they were stained and I had to thoroughly check.

Me: Wow. That was pretty unprofessional of the chiro. Unprofesh.

Angie: But maybe it was just because they were Ron Burgandy coloured?

Me: Maybe he likes Scotch?

Angie: Take me to Pleasure Town.

Me: Oh you minxy little seductress! Please stop making advances that you are not prepared to follow through on, otherwise I am going to HR.

Angie: Ugh, I also have these underwear that my mom sent me that are, and I have no idea why she would buy these for me, a large, and come like half way up my waist.

Me: But you are at your bloatiest, maybe an extra small!

Angie: I know. But they really are comfortable and the waist band doesn't cut into me and now they are all worn, so I threw them into the shark week lineup. But soooo much material!

Me: Hahaha! Remember (name redacted)? She had these pair of jeans that were super old but she said she kept them for the very same comfort reasons. She said her husband affectionately named them the Mat Leave Jeans.

Angie: Yes! They are just like that. Ryan (the husband) jokes that if I ever didn't make it to the bathroom in time, it would be no big deal because there is so much extra room. He sarcastically calls them the Skanky ones.

Me: Whoa. If that ever happened, I think they would be the Stanky ones.

Angie: Mra haha! High five!

*We high five*

Me: If there was anything worse than blood bath underwear, would it be slightly-chewed-by-dogs underwear? I mean, the really chewed ones I throw out, I'm not disgusting. But the others, they only have a few small teeth holes.

Angie: But I bet they are comfy?

Me: So comfy!

Angie: You totally wore shark week/slightly chewed undies on your first day, didn't you?

Me: Yup.

Angie: Lunchtime!

Toasty Roast!

Recently, my friend, coworker, and (fake) brother announced that he would be leaving our motley crew at work. We were all devastated, though perhaps somewhat relieved there would again be room in front of the mirror. We decided to show our  love and send him off in the only way that seemed appropriate- we roasted the shit out of that mouthy little troublemaker. 

So with love, Brother, this one's for you.

I remember the first day I met you. I had maybe only been working 2-3 days. I was sitting in the old office and you were talking to our manager, and I can only assume you were in a more generous mood than normal because you proceeded to tell her that she looked miserable and dumpy that day. It made me wonder, "Who is this insolent, scruffy-haired teenage lesbian, and how does she still have a job here?"

I love that the Employee of the Month program was discontinued because you rigged it. Uh, I mean, because you won it after an overwhelming outpouring of support and recognition for your tireless efforts inundated the ballot box. You have the proof after all. You did make us all write congratulatory statements for you.

I was surprised at Halloween when our boss trusted you firstly, with an Exacto knife, and secondly, to carve our department pumpkin. But then it all made sense when I realized that it was just a sneaky way of keeping you in your corner, away from everyone else, and keeping you busy.

You also managed to make me feel genuine concern for your well-being when late one night when we were both closing and there was only one guest left in the spa, I heard a blood-curdling shriek from downstairs. I called the dispensary phone, no answer, your cell, no answer, and when I ran downstairs to make sure you were okay, I saw a trail of discarded towels that looked to have been dropped in some sort of emergency. No joke, I thought something horrible had happened to you, and that you maybe had fallen somewhere and were bleeding out on our beautiful marble floors. Turns out, you were just really upset that the Canucks had been scored against.

Your continual chirps about my hair, and how when I wear it in a bun you ask if I just came from working the deli counter at the grocery store, have strangely, become an endearing part of the day I look forward to. I like your new hair by the way, just a few inches longer in front and some highlights and you'll be giving Kate Gosselin circa 2009 a real run for her money.

But Brother, for all the flack we may give you, you were still one of the only people who managed to show up to work when the city almost didn't survive the one day snow storm of January 2012. People were warned to stay at home, the military base was shut down, all flights and ferries were cancelled, martial law was just about put into effect, but the spa was still open, and you bravely and against all odds demonstrated Herculean strength of character when you took the bus to work for the first time in your life. Sure, your mom watched from the window to see that you boarded it safely; I wouldn't doubt that she probably paid your fare and talked to the bus driver to make sure he knew where you needed to go. And then she felt so bad for making you take public transportation that she paid for you to take a cab home, but I don't want that to take away from your heroic efforts.

And now you're venturing off to a new city, into uncharted territory. Namely, you'll actually have to do your own laundry, buy groceries, cook meals, and clean up your apartment... on the days your cleaning lady is sick, and the care package from your mom arrives late.

You confided in me that you're thinking of going into modeling there, to which I say, you definitely have the right look to be a great hand model. And I've always thought you'd make a terrific actor. Your impression of a manatee marooned on the lunch room couch is always flawless, and I felt like your turn as a helpless toddler, trapped in the body of a 6"2 twenty-six year old working at a spa, was an Oscar-worthy performance. It was reminiscent of Sean Penn in I Am Sam.

Failing that, you've got the perfect face for the radio. But keep working out. One day you'll meet a wonderful girl, and a chiselled body will be her only consolation in a lifetime of tuna melts, Canuck open weeps, and never being as good as your mom at tucking you in at night.

Really though, you are my friend, and I am so glad that you are. I've always thought that anyone who is ballsy and sharp-witted enough to chirp me will likely become a good friend. I decided to give you a pass on the sharp-witted part regardless.

You are a kind, warm-hearted, and caring friend. I was going to say man, but I'm not sure if that has happened yet, and I didn't feel comfortable asking your mom. You've always been there to listen to me when another boy has dumped me or deleted me on facebook, and offer your support and advice. I'll miss the nights when we both had the closing shifts and would walk to our cars together, the times when we watched hockey games in the men's change room and ate yogurts, and I'll never forgot the time I was heartbroken and on the verge of tears, and you wrote a creepy note to cheer me up.

Brother, you will always be the heart of Team WSS (albeit a heart that takes frequent and extended lunch breaks), you will always be an unofficial member of the Bell family, and Mom still thinks you have a HOTT BODD. I am going to miss you. So very much! I mean that. The lunch room couch is going to be so cold without you.

Love,

Natalie

In. Love.

BFFing

Recently, one of my best friends was visiting, and it always reminds me of the really important things in life.

I met this friend 11 years ago, when we were both bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, and on one of our first training courses in the military.

I pretty much instantly disliked him.

He poked fun at me, gave me a hard time, and had this uncanny ability to always be around when something was going wrong so that he could quietly chirp, "Well, this isn't going the way you thought it would, now is it?"

He was one of those tall, slender assholes that could effortlessly run long distances. This was made even more annoying by the fact that he was also a smoker, but that never seemed to deter his abilities. I can run, but keeping up with a pack of guys, an incredulous amount of whom were also tall, slender jerks that probably went for casual jogs with the Kenyan cross-country team or something, was not the easiest for me. I'm pretty sure that my friend/nemesis at the time would purposely drop back to run beside me so that he could say things like, "Oh, looks like someone is looking a little tired this morning. You're not going to fall out, are you, Bell?" And then he'd trot right back up to the front. I don't really remember how often this happened, but I remember it happened at least once, and my reaction was always to utter his name in the same way and tone as Jerry Seinfeld would say, "Newman."

Turns out, we were just best friends waiting to happen, and I suspect he had always known this, and was maybe the reason for all the chirping. And now over a decade later our friendship is held strongly together by all the good-natured teasing and jokes. So much so that when I meet new people, if they're ballsy enough to poke some fun at me, I pretty much instantly know we'll get along just swimmingly.

What I've always so greatly appreciated in all the years we've been friends, even when there have been long periods of time without visits, is that we've always been able to pick right back up as if we had seen each other yesterday. I think the best friendships are like that, because there is a deep understanding of each other, and I think when you get right down to it, you are same kind of weird.

My friend has the rare ability to make me really laugh out loud, and the little games that we play out of self-amusement make me the kind of happy I remember feeling as a kid when I would set up prehistoric worlds across the lawn with my plastic dinosaurs and play with my friends. My best friend growing up was also a boy, and he had all the same qualities: effortlessly deadpan funny, made me erupt into fits of uncontrolled giggles, and just so fucking smart in the way that intelligence of that kind sometimes gets them into trouble.

It's time spent with these kinds of people; the people that make you feel understood, and make you laugh, and make you feel the kind of happiness that doesn't come along every day, that I think you understand what all this time is really for.

And obviously, that time is for quoting Vin Diesel movies. 

Natalie Bell is excited for when the 6th Fast & Furious movie comes out. She's betting there'll be some pretty decent one-liners.

I Don't Know... Science?

This one's for you, Tommy.

I really like movies. I watch a lot of them. I also really like bad actions movies. Explosions? Yes. Cheesy one-liners? Yes! HOTT BODDS? YAASSSS!!! Steamy sexy-time* scenes? REPEAT VIEWINGS!!!!!!!!!!

And then throw in cars, boats, or cowboys, and you've pretty much got the best two hours of my week.



So this brings us to the upcoming entry in the Bourne series, The Bourne Lethargy, or whatever. Truth- I've never been a huge fan of these films. Maybe it's because I'll never believe Will Hunting as some sort of super-duper-ninja-spy. Super-smaht-math whiz-also purchaser of a zoo? Yes. I totally buy Matt Damon as an animal/apple enthusiast. But a Bond-ish type dude? He just doesn't have the quads for it.

Enter Jeremy Renner. I totally get what Elisabeth was going on about when she openly invited him to find the pot o' gold into her pants. I'd co-sign that statement! BY TAKING OFF ALL MY CLOTHES AND CHAINING HIM TO MY BED. 

But why? What is it about this guy that is so beguilingly, pants-off sexy? Is it science? 
I've been enjoying him in my dreams since Dahmer, WHERE HE PLAYED A SERIAL KILLER. Yeah, I know, that's messed up. 

And does anyone remember him in P!nk's Trouble video? Oh god, do I. HE WAS A BAD, SEXY COWBOY! A COWBADBOY!!!! Ugh, I need to go do some laundry.

Jer, I don't want to be too forward, but you have a standing appointment in my bedroom. Do me a favour and wear the cowboy hat, but not much else.

I'll be patiently waiting,

Natalie
xoxo

* Seriously, a horrendously bad movie/show can totally be redeemed by said HOTT BODDS stripping down and getting all up ons. True Blood pretty much relies on this. I mean, at this point does anyone even care about the fairies, Lilith Fair, or LOST's smoke monster's career revival, so long as we get to see Eric TAKING A LAP AROUND BOOM CITY?!?!? Of course not. I second what Eric said at the end of this week's episode, "What are you doing?" WHAT ARE YOU DOING, ALAN BALL? Where is the episode where my favourite Nordic vampire goes on a scorching-hot sex rampage?? I'm still waiting.