Sep 1
2010

With anticipation absolutely killing me, I paced circles from the huge front windows to the door with the sunlight streaming through the panes on either side and back. I anxiously talked to Katelyn while I waited and stressed and paced, but ended up hanging up the phone because my nerves were making it hard to carry on any semblance of a conversation. When I saw the vehicle pull up outside, I nearly exploded with pent-up energy and butterflies, and quickly grabbed the phone again so that when I opened the door, it looked like I was important and popular and was constantly barraged with phone calls. My goal was to impress, and in my teenage mind, zinging with hormones and excitement, that was the best way to go about it. Opening the door, he stood there with a goofy grin on his face, overwhelming me with his instant charisma and towering height. That moment, looking into his blue eyes, was the first of a few times that night where I fell hard.

I quickly gave him the tour, fidgeting and as wound up as a new violin, before we proceeded to walk down from my house to the shop so he could buy a new skateboard. I was enamoured by his humour and our similar tastes in actors and movies. Walking along the loading-dock side of Chinook Mall, we discussed Adam Sandler and how his friends often told him they saw resemblances in his jokes and mannerisms. It was one of the few times in my life when I was paradoxically so eager to talk and share and laugh, and so shy and in awe that I was speechless.

After the purchase and the walk back to my house, he decided to try out his new board, and I happily sat on the small curve of grass outside my house to watch him rip up and down the road, showing off as any seventeen year old boy would in that situation. He urged me to try it, but I wanted to avoid making a fool of myself as much as possible. His coaxing eventually broke my veneer of strength, and I stood wobbly-kneed on the board and inched down the sidewalk, gaining momentum at a pace far too fast for my liking. I ended up falling forward onto my elbow and hand, but it was my ego that was bruised the most. I felt like crawling under a rock and dying, after looking like such a noob in front of him. He helped me up and brushed me off, feeling terrible for not catching me. I have not been on a skateboard since that day.

I cleaned myself up inside, and guzzled half a litre of cranberry juice, trying to distract myself from how awkward I felt now that I looked so foolish. He calmed me down, and we ventured to the basement to watch “The Brave Little Toaster” while sitting on the squashy beige and green-accented futon. We were wrapped in a blanket that my mom had for years, a needlepoint of a big teddy bear, and the warmth between us was electrifying.

That night, with my sister “babysitting” us from across the room, I got my first kiss. That sealed it. I have never felt such tentativeness, tenderness… we snuggled closer and smiled like co-conspirators at each other, going in again and again for the soft brush of lips. Playing it cool in between, I was dazzled by his elegantly long fingers, so much longer than my own dwarf-sized hands. When he went home, the sweater I was wearing while with him, that still smelt like his cologne, was draped across my pillow and that night was one of the happiest, most fulfilled nights I have ever had.

–

The second time we met was at Chinook Mall, by the Starbucks within the Chapters at the far corner of the building. I was as nervous as ever, worrying he wouldn’t remember what I looked like, worrying I would mistake someone else for him, worrying that he wouldn’t even come… but he did, with that same smile that melts my heart to this day. We spent the day wandering through the mall hand in hand, blissfully unaware of everything but our blossoming romance, looking nowhere but at each other. With a group of mutual friends, we stood outside Spencer’s and tried to figure out how to spend the rest of the afternoon, and what movie to watch later. I wandered apart from the group and stood grasping the railing and looking down at the floor below us, watching the tops of people’s heads and just completely caught up in my own thoughts. Suddenly, his long arms engulfed from behind, encircling my waist as he held me tightly and looked down below with me. Six years later, I have never felt more secure and happy and safe than I did at that moment.

We ended up slipping away from the movie before it even began, just he and I, and walked to the little park I knew was nearby. It was night, and we laid in the field, shivering and keeping each other warm with hugs and a rain of kisses, getting closer than we expected or thought possible, and staring up at the ocean of stars twinkling brightly above us. Walking back to the mall so we could get picked up by our parents, he carried my purse because the weight of it was bothering my shoulder, and I felt so much love in that simple act, that he wasn’t like most boys with the attitude of not wanting to be caught dead holding a purse.

Outside of the Chapters, waiting for his mom, we leaned against the red brick support beam and kissed, the cold rock against my back juxtaposed with how warm I was where my body touched his while we kissed…

—

We’re wandering around downtown at twilight (which in the winter months is pretty damn early in Calgary), exhaling plumes of condensation like dragons, running inside from the cold. As we passed HMV (a music store), the song “Are you gonna be my girl?” by Jet is blasting from the speakers, and I playfully sing along and swing his arms dramatically, dancing with him in the middle of the hallway of the mall downtown. He laughed, and his eyes just shone.

Coming across a plus 15 (the indoors pedestrian walkway approximately fifteen feet above ground, connecting most of the buildings of downtown), we watched the cars whiz by beneath us through the windows, his arm around my shoulders, before he pulled me closer to him and brought his lips to mine again…

—

It’s funny what we remember from when we were younger. All of these images, and so many more, memories stored permanently within my heart, they’re all there, and nothing will ever make them go away. Even when we broke up, and because I knew I had no way to move out of the city, I wished all of Calgary would burn to the ground and take my memories and thoughts and heart with it. The moments of unadulterated, pure happiness like that are so far in between for some people that I guess they just forever remain ingrained within their psyche. At least, that is my experience, six years later and still as crystal clear as if it happened six hours ago.

Sure, I have been happy in the interim between then and now. But I think we live things more vibrantly as kids, and simple moments of bliss mean more and stay with us longer, because we live more in that moment, back before bills and kids and jobs and responsibilities dull the shine of simple things in our lives. I wish I was as carefree as I was back then, as free with my emotions and my thoughts and heart, I was less guarded, more trusting, more open to being loved and giving it. Our lives seem to go from HD to rabbit-ear signal black and white vision, and how I wish it was the opposite way. Maybe it’s just my experience in life thus far, that the shine and colour seems to fade and seep away with age. The rose in my cheeks is losing its pallor with every day.

It’d be nice to have colour back one day.

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Sep 1
2010

Today was the last day of August, and our first official frost warning was issued. Hellooooo, autumn. In storefronts there are no longer cute patio dresses and flirty tank tops, there are smart cardigans and cozy jackets. And as the seasons change from my least favourite into my absolute favourite, I always feel pensive, and more than my usual level of melancholy.

For most people, autumn is a period of rest, the trees are losing their leaves that they try so hard to grasp on to, the foliage in the forests changes colours as swift as the gentle strum of a harp, animals prepare to hibernate in their comfy homes, and for me, this is a time for renewal, for growth and exponential potential. While others prepare to bunker down and keep warm through the impending beating that winter gives us every year, I feel the urge to evaluate my life and learn from the past year. I have always done things differently from most others. My new years resolutions come to me when I shed the past year every fall, when I try my hardest to be reborn into a person better than who I was over the past twelve months, into the person that I want to strive for every day.

Perhaps it’s the impending chill in the air that puts a sense of urgency into my bones. Maybe it’s the pressure of flurries and ice and cold that is pushing me to want to change my environment, my direction… I feel like a goose that knows she wants to fly somewhere for winter, to escape the frigid months to come, but her internal compass is broken and spinning wildly, dizzying her thoughts until she just can’t think of anything but the inner-realization that something needs to be different, but she has no idea just what it is that needs to change.

I can’t fathom what exactly I need to do to pick myself up out of this spiral I feel myself getting dragged down deeper and deeper into every day. It’s like that part in Alice in Wonderland when she is spiraling down down down and she can’t do a thing to stop it until she lands. I suppose I have to wait until I hit bottom, to know when I’m ready to stand again, hopefully brush myself off, and try again.

Restless at work, anxious at home, constantly worrying and plotting and contemplating and moving. My mind and body are in relentless, frantic movement, because I feel something approaching, something big and important and scary, and I don’t know what it is and I hate not knowing what exactly is coming at me. How can I plan and fret over something if I can’t figure out what the hell it will be? (And yes, I do realize that that is completely ridiculous and probably more than a little insane, feeling an impending sense of doom that steadily and progressively gets worse…)

Sometimes I wish I was a small bird, who had the freedom to come and go as I pleased, and if I didn’t like where I was, I could fly far away and start anew. I wish the wings that I always fantasize about would actually materialize, and I could burst into the air and overcome the strife that always seems to befall me on the ground, giving it one last parting glance over my shoulder, then never look back as I carried on ahead in the path I keep stumbling off of but end up finding my way back to each time.

So here it is, my own personal “new years,” and the sense of panic will continue to grow until I sit down and figure out what I need to keep, what I need to change, and what I need to burn. Hopefully when I have things a little more sorted out, the feelings will recede for a while and I will be able to breathe.

Lately, I’m so out of breath.

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Aug 2
2010

What a weekend!

On Friday, everyone from work went out to a nice restaurant downtown to unwind after a busy surgery week, and it was a nice way to welcome the new surgeon to our roster. Straight after dinner I drove out to Arrowwood to see Badger, and the drive out there was crazy. Calgary (and surrounding area) has been having insane storms pretty frequently this summer, and I was lucky enough to drive right into one. At times, the rain was coming down so hard and steady that I had zero visibility, and was just hoping that no cars would be on the road when I was blind to the world around me. There was a magnificent rainbow right in front of me as I went though, and rainbows always make me feel a little brighter.

Upon reaching Arrowwood, the lightening was happening so swiftly and vibrantly that I called B to come sit with me in my car so we could drive to the park and watch the show that nature was putting on. It was pretty anticlimactic though, apparently just as I came into Arrowwood, it all but ceased. Oh well. We went inside and had a nice, relaxing night together.

Saturday was the day of my birthday party that I was throwing, so there was a lot to do. I went to the grocery store to pick up buns and condiments for the barbecue (having already thought ahead and getting the frozen stuff last week), and then I hit up the liquor store. But you know… I realized that sending someone who doesn’t drink (me) to the store to choose booze for a party was a bad choice. It was BYOB, but I figured that I should have at least a few cans of beer to accommodate those who didn’t think to bring their own. I also bought myself a bottle of Sour Puss, which is basically the only thing that I can stand to drink. What an overwhelming array of choices, though! And I had no idea how pricey alcohol gets. Of course I know that there are thousand dollar bottles of wine and champagne and the like (Veuve Clicquot being a favourite of celebrities, right?) but “real” alcohol, the 40-proof stuff gets way up there too.

I pick up M from her house (after getting thoroughly lost, that will teach me to trust her meandering directions over opting for my GPS!), and bring her over to start preparing things for the barbecue at the lake in my community. B and M are introduced here, and get along swimmingly. And huzzah for me, they are both sarcastic assholes like I am, that’s why I love them both so much! (Except when they are making certain remarks about my parking or driving… haha.)

The three of us head to the lake and set up at the little picnic table hut that was reserved for us. It was kind of overcast outside, with the slightest tinge of a chill, so going in the water was something that we attempted, but ultimately decided to forego. Before stepping foot in the huge lake though, B and I kicked sand at each other and he came over and picked me up, Hollywood-lover style, which had me all starry-eyed, until he quickly turned towards the lake. Realizing his intent to throw me in, I start bucking wildly to escape his grasp (and the subsequent soaking that would ensue.) He is so damn lucky that I managed to drop to the sand right in time.

Nic and her fiancée L came to spend the afternoon with us, bringing such essentials as plates and cups. L manned the barbecue and we had a nice lunch, then we went out on a four-person paddleboat, Nic sitting on the hump of the boat playing “captain.” The bugs on the lake were monsters. Giant, Jurassic Park-style beasts that fly. It was horrible, and that paddleboat, even with four people working as hard as they could, was no match for their ferocity. Yuck!

When we finished up at the lake, then Nic and L got into their car and followed my car to the house where the party would be continuing. We were driving down a big highway when all of a sudden, lights are flashing and Nic and L are being pulled over. I was so confused, they weren’t speeding, they weren’t driving erratically… I had no idea what was going on and why they were pulled over. The only thing I could think of was that the headlights weren’t on, but it was midday and mine weren’t on either, so I didn’t think that was it. I quickly pulled onto the shoulder where there was a little section to fit a car. I text her and ask what happened, and find out that their registration expired and they had to park the car until Tuesday, when the registration offices opened again. (Monday is a holiday here, so they have no way to get around for the long-weekend.) To add insult to injury, they also got a $200 ticket. Bah!

Throughout the day, text messages kept arriving saying that people had this and that reason to not come, after saying they would. That is my ultimate frustration, people saying that they are definitely coming to something, then skipping out last minute. However, at least they TOLD me. There were a few that didn’t say a damn thing, they just didn’t show up. Not only is it disappointing, it pissed me off to just have no-shows. If you aren’t coming, at least have the decency to let me know. It’s not a hard concept to understand. Whatever. Some people are just inconsiderate, I guess. The people that did come were awesome, and we had a fantastic time.

I actually played my first drinking game ever. Everyone else but one guest was drinking beer, and I had a big glass filled with straight Sour Puss. Suffice it to say, I got pretty tipsy. I wasn’t full-out drunk, because after a bunch big gulps, I got sick of doing the shuddery-scrunch face that resulted after each sip, and I started to feel sick. I didn’t want to be wasted and projectile-vomiting all over the place, so I took it easy and let it stop and just-about-drunk. Most everyone left, so the remaining bunch of us made a midnight run for drunken-munchies at the 24-hour grocery store down the block. It was an odd feeling for me, since it was the same street that I used to live with A, the same Sobey’s, everything but ME was the same. It was a strange feeling. The hardest part of being there was walking the same paths I took with Sadie. I put those thoughts out of my head, kept my chin up and enjoyed myself. I have discovered that when drunk, some people get weird cravings. I stuck to a simple salad of lettuce, but they bought cheese buns with pepperoni-sticks inside of them, crullers, candy and sandwiches. Haha. The salad was wonderful, being tipsy makes for a good meal of lettuce and dressing.

We then put in “Paranormal Activity,” which thoroughly freaked out Badger and the other party guest who stuck it out until the end. They were too freaked out to sleep, and I was tired and in a pleasant mood. Thanks for that choice, M! Babysitting was not what I had in mind that night after you left ;)

On Sunday, I drove Badger back home, and brought my camera along for the ride. Along the way to his place there are a bunch of dilapidated farmhouses that are falling apart and no longer in use, and I have always wanted to stop and photograph them with my wide-angle lens. B was patient enough to do that with me, which was really enjoyable. We found some beautiful rocks along the train tracks beside old grain elevators that were no longer in use, and it was a really relaxing way to spend a few hours in the sunshine outside. The bugs were plentiful though, which put a slight damper on things.

On the agenda for this week? Well, I work today (Monday,) so nothing exciting today. Tomorrow is my birthday, so I took it off from work. No plans, I just didn’t want to spend my 21st birthday in the clinic. Apparently one of the detailing-places in Calgary does a free car-cleaning on a person’s birthday, so that’s what I’ll be hitting up tomorrow! Hooray for clean cars. The only other thing worth mentioning this week is a meeting I have with my newest employer/venture. I will be writing posts and doing product reviews and copyrighting projects for a local designer, which I am really excited about. Wish me luck with that!

I leave for Halifax in eight days, so I also really need to get some more concrete ideas about what I’m going to do with myself while I’m there. Things at home have been kind of rough lately, so I’m glad to be getting away from all the crap here and relaxing.

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend!

XOXO

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Jul 28
2010

Quarter after twelve in the morning, up in six hours, and too frustrated to sleep. There isn’t even one or two things in particular keeping me up. It’s a culmination of being over-tired because my insomnia has been kicking my ass lately, feeling frustrated at life in general, and feeling particularly ornery because of the damn heat. So I’m just going to list off a list of what is bothering me tonight, in no order, and not relaying the degree to which one is causing me to feel like this tonight. (Antsy, anxious and pissed off, in case you were wondering.)

– It’s upsetting that I keep making little discoveries of things that I don’t want to see or have in my possession anymore. This past weekend, it was gifts that A had made me and pictures of the two of us and things like that, things that have been in storage for months and I completely forgot about. The other night I couldn’t sleep because of how hot it was, so I went out for a drive to get one of my favourite bottles of iced tea, though the nearest location that sells that one particular kind was pretty damn far. I had nothing else to do so I made the trip, then remembered the stuff I had to return to A so I did that on the same trip, and even though I slipped it under his door and didn’t actually have to see him, just talking was difficult enough for me. But I was done with it, I thought I had finally swept off the final remnants of that and could be over with the awkward exchanging of things. However, tonight while I was clearing out document holder with a bunch of my important papers in it, I found more pictures I have to give back, and it’s frustrating because I worry that now it looks like I’m just finding “convenient” excuses to meet with him or whatever, which is not the case at all. I went to great lengths to avoid face-to-face contact the other night, declined an invitation to go out to eat, because the last time it happened was so damn hard on me. And I have to do the whole “I have stuff of yours, haha, I keep popping up, don’t I? Isn’t that great?” bit, and it sucks. I thought I had done a clean sweep of everything, but I keep finding new things. If I hadn’t already told him to expect an envelope of stuff waiting for him tomorrow, I would do a thorough re-check of everything, just to make sure that was all of it, but I was too prompt and I will be kicking myself if I end up finding anything else.

– I instantly go cold and detached inside when I hear the flick-flick of the lighter, the inhale, the exhale. Even hearing it through the phone does something to me, and I hate it. Especially after talking about my grandfather just the other day, and how horrible and difficult it was for everyone in my family when he died of severe lung cancer caused by his habit.

- As always, one of my biggest issues that affects my mood is how I take my reflection that day. That sounds weird, but it’s how I feel. If I take my image as “Decent, not horrible right this minute”, things are a lot easier to cope with. For the most part, and a lot lately, it’s “Fucking gross, stop looking at the god damn mirror.” I know, I know, bitch bitch bitch, but it’s constantly on my mind and affecting my thoughts and mood.

- I wish there could be just one day that I could say exactly what is on my mind, to everyone about everything, and have no fear of repercussion. I could finally get off my chest what has been bothering for a long time but know that saying out loud would be the worst possible thing to do for everyone else, and my situation. Please tell me that I’m not the only one who feels this way.

- I’m frustrated because things have stalled, and there doesn’t seem to be a way to kick-start them back into motion. I hate the lack of momentum.

- My lack of a future scares the shit out of me.

- Sleep would be so fantastic right now, but it just won’t happen. Now what? I don’t know. Spider-solitaire or Mah Jong, I guess.

– I really wish I could reconnect with a few people from my past, but have no certain way of going about it, and I vaguely remember trying to do it once with each of these people, but nothing ever resulted from it. I should leave well enough alone, and I will… I just wish I didn’t have to.

- I don’t know if anyone even reads my incoherent ramblings anymore.

- I’m not ready to turn 21 in a week… it’s not enough time. Things are going by so fast, but so slow… I wish I could fast forward to real adulthood so I knew what would come of me, and what to expect, but I’m terrified of being a bona fide adult with real problems, unlike these I speak of here.

- I would really love some ice cream… Sigh.

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Jul 23
2010

I keep listening to this Eminem song that features Rihanna. Just like cereal, I go through phases where all I want (in copious amounts) is to listen to one song, eat that one kind, watch one thing, like that. This week’s phase is “Love the way you lie.” I think it gets to me so much because I can see some parallels in it to past relationships…

When I was in my last relationship, it started out tumultuously, and it burned with a fiery passion that was really intense before it fizzled and fell back into a routine, where the comfort level grew and the excitement waned. There was a lot of yelling, a lot of crying (on my end, at least,) but back then, I felt when I was reduced to tears, it actually had an impact, and it helped stall the fight enough for both of us to take a step back and re-evaluate in a calm way. As things progressed though, there was so many tears that eventually, they had no impact, and I could be sobbing and it would have no effect.

When I am in a conflict that isn’t going anywhere, I need to walk away to calm myself and think, and just be alone so I don’t explode. That was always an issue with A, who is a “fixer” and wanted to talk it out until things were resolved. I guess relationships can be difficult when one person wants to stay and talk, and the other wants to do nothing but run until they’re calm enough to be able to discuss things rationally. I can’t begin to count how many times I left A standing somewhere when I was crying and couldn’t take it anymore. It was a bit of a game back then for me I guess, because as much as I wanted to be alone, I also wanted him to follow, calmly hug me and not say a word until I calmed down. I told him that at one point, but the few times he tried, I was far too upset to be close to anyone, and it was always at the most inopportune times for him to try. He eventually gave up and just let me go, and eventually I would leave and be so distraught I would do stupid things like drink a bottle of rum by myself just to escape the mental anguish I was feeling at the time.

I can remember being at his house once maybe a year or two into the relationship, and we got in such a bad fight that he told me to pack up anything I had there and leave. I was given a few orange garbage bags and filled them with mementos, clothes, stuffed animals, pictures, and other small trinkets, and in order to avoid having to deal with his parents, I slipped out the front door unannounced, toting two huge bags filled with stuff. It was a few kilometres to the nearest bus stop, so I just walked down the gravel road, crying harder than I had in years, so that I could make it away from that neighbourhood. I hadn’t gotten very far when their Lexus pulled up, and his dad coaxed me into the car. I was upset, but things at the house had calmed down enough that I unpacked the things again.

It was so hard to be back there after that. I couldn’t look his parents in the eye, I couldn’t eat or talk. I was shaking, but I was helpless to leave unless I wanted to walk an hour to the nearest bus stop by his house. Back then, a car would have been so helpful, because so many times I was stuck and couldn’t go anywhere, literally at the mercy of whoever had transportation. I hate depending on people.

I don’t know what it was about us. We brought out the good and the very, very worst in each other. Maybe it was our personalities that clashed too much, maybe we were too similar and it led to confrontation because of how volatile both of us could be, maybe we just forced too much. Whatever it was, there was such a huge amount of emotions all the time, and for both of us, they were too close to the top of ourselves, and it was way too easy for things to escalate out of control. When we were in a good space, there was never a better couple, but when things were bad, I was really thankful that for most of it, no one else was around. I am the queen of the cold war, and I completely shut down when there are problems, and the king of full-fledged war and the queen of the cold were like a combustible substance mingling with a vicious spark. Fireworks flew all the time, but unfortunately, it wasn’t always the good kind.

So now… I’m still unsure of whether I think opposites are best for each other, or if being really similar is more helpful. I still can’t quite figure out what A and I were like in that regard. I think ultimately, some differences are good, but there needs to be some fundamental similarities for things to work out in the long-run. Being too similar would be boring, differences add for some variety in life, but if things like the way to raise kids, to clean a house, to run the finances, and school or work are viewed in a completely different way, especially if one (or both) of the parties is too inflexible and not willing to be open-minded and change ideas, it will just burn out.

It’s a constant struggle, I guess…

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Jul 21
2010

I know, I know, I have been neglectful here in regards to posting. I’m sorry! Things are so nuts lately, and I just don’t want to bore anyone with how mundane the craziness is. If you give me ideas to write about, I would gladly extrapolate on anything, I have a lot of opinions on things, as you know, haha.

Anyway, this weekend we moved from our town-house (where we have been for three or four years now) into the house that my mom has designed and been planning for months. It’s a really exciting time because she has always wanted to be able to provide her children an actual stand-alone house, instead of the condos or town-houses that we have lived in for my entire life. I’m really proud of her, and I hope that she feels proud of herself, as it was one of her biggest goals.

The house is beautiful, modern and warm and painted in a lovely shade of grey throughout. (Badger things the grey is depressing, but I like it.) My room is naked, as I have no furniture but my lovely new mattress which is a dream to sleep on,) but the house is already so put-together it’s crazy. I’m slightly terrified of what will happen when I make the first dent in the floor (hardwood, of course) or spill on the couch… We all know it’s bound to be me that does it, since I am the clumsiest person in the family. Yikes. If I disappear completely, it may be because I dropped something heavy on the hardwood. ;)

What sucks about the place is its location, it’s so deep into the community that it takes forever to get to a road to get anywhere else. Hopefully they build some grocery stores and convenience stores closer to us, because I can’t even get a coffee without a fifteen minute drive. Speaking of coffee, I was talking with the guys who work at the Mac’s Convenience store across the street from my old house on Saturday, and they were pretty sad that I was moving. One of them said that any time I came in to visit, I would get free coffee. Hooray for making friends in high places! I legitimately will miss that place though, they were always so friendly and gave me great deals and “forgot” to ring in coffee and stuff.

Another bad thing about the location is that it literally forces me to drive to get to work, because there are no buses where I am. I am not a fan of rush-hour traffic, so I’m kind of stressed. I’m actually thinking that I’ll just drive to my old community (which is about a seven minute drive) then park where I used to park on the street, then take the same bus. That way, I avoid the morning insanity, and I am comfortable leaving my car there (and without having to pay for parking!) We’ll see how that works, I guess.

You know, I’m quite thankful for men. My mom and I had her.. ex, his son, my two uncles, and Badger helping us move. If it had just been her and I, we would have been so overwhelmed that we both would have sunk beside the boxes of stuff and just cried. Ah, moving. Such a wonderful time.

While we’re on the subject of decorating (kind of… we were, at least)… for those of you who are married, what did you do if your spouse had a completely different decorating style than you? Did you kind of make the decisions, or let them take the reigns? Because honestly, B and I have very different tastes in decorating, and I’m definitely not one to back down when it comes to things like that. I joked with him this weekend that if we were ever to live together, it would have to be in separate houses.

Something that has been on my mind lately came to my attention due to a Match.com commercial. It says that one in five relationships starts with a dating site like that, and that more marriages and relationships and stuff have started from that site than any other. What compels humans to seek that companionship? I guess it’s a combination of both nature and nurture, as I’m sure we’re wired to procreate, and therefor search for prospective mates throughout our life, but for most of us, monogamy is driven into our heads to the point where we are constantly searching for that one, single person to spend our lives with, which at least half of the time ends in divorce. I think that we are naturally creatures who seek more than one mate, but most of us think it’s the norm to just have that one mate for life (because that’s all we have ever really been taught), and those few who aren’t into monogamy are weird and outcast, even though it’s part of their genetic make-up. Even people who are completely monogamous see other people and feel (on the most basal level, at least,) sexual attraction, but they are “strong” enough to overcome those feelings and stop themselves from acting upon it. However, others act upon their feelings and attractions, and whatever works for them works. They are just going with how they are made. I, myself, am a serial-monogamist, I don’t like the whole “not-commited, wishy-washy” relationships where everything is kind of a free-for-all and you are just trying one another on, I’d much rather dedicate my focus and attention and love to one person. But the thought of monogamy, the drive to find just one suitable mate for life, when did that start? When did humans decide as a society that only one person for life was “normal and acceptable,” when animals are very rarely like that? Why has dating around to find the most compatible match such a taboo thing to do? Things are more lax about it now I guess, but for so many decades (centuries, even), it was one man, one woman, for life. Where did we stray from our natural tendancies of best mate for the time, to only mate for life? And now, after so many years of adaptation to what society has deemed appropriate, is it more bred into us to only want to be in a monogamous relationship? Which part of our genetic make-up is more real? The animalistic tendancies within to want more than one, or the way that we have engrained life to be, marriage to one person only?

Am I making any sense?

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Jul 7
2010

As part of my new outlook on life, we will be having a conversation tonight when he is off work, at a neutral place that will be open late. Last night, after thinking a lot about what I need to do in my life to be happier, more mature, and more ready to grow and flourish with love and joy, I need to quiet the storm in my head, and let bygones be bygones. I figured that having one good conversation seven months later, now that we both have calmed down, had time to think about things, and be apart for the first time in nearly five years, we will both get some final, peaceful closure.

I know it will be difficult, and last night, I regretted asking to do it because I worried about just how difficult it could be, but in the end, I think it will be worth it. I am hoping that with this open, honest and relaxed conversation, we will be able to say to one another what conclusions we have come to, and end a large chapter in both of our lives. I don’t think I can really move onto the next part of the story of my life without finishing the last chapter, which is what I am hoping to accomplish tonight. It will be hard, but I feel it will be beneficial to both of us.

I just want to say again to Badger how much I appreciate him being so trusting and loving, and not preventing me from going. It means a lot to know that he has faith in me, and is behind me in this endeavor. With his blessing, I am a lot more confident in tonights events. Thank you, A.S.H.

Sigh. Wish me luck.

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Jul 6
2010

On my way home on the bus, I just finished the book “Tuesdays with Morrie” by Mitch Alblom. It wasn’t something that I was interested in reading, it just happened to be sitting in the cupboard at work last week, and I grabbed it because I needed something to read on my lunch break. Books like that aren’t “my type.” The touchy-feely, lesson teaching, feel-good kind of books have never held an interest for me. I want thick plots, twisting story-lines, complex and developed characters, my mind wants to be engaged. When people around me noticed what book I was reading, they mentioned how great it was, or asked about it because they have heard reviews on it, and it shocked me every time. How had I not even heard of this book that has affected so many?

As I read it, I nearly gave up without finishing, because it bored me, was too simplistically written, and again, was just too much of a feel-good kind of book. However, as I turned the pages, I grew more and more engrossed, especially towards the end. Tonight, in the final few chapters, I was nearly in tears a few times, and I rarely cry at books or movies. (Okay yes, I cried when both Dumbledore and Sirius Black died in the Harry Potter books, but who didnt?!) This book really made me ponder the complexities of life, and made me question why the things I perceive as complex are as such. The main character in the book, Morrie, had such a lovely, simple outlook on things. Love, spirituality, compassion… they became what he lived for. So tonight I’m thinking… What do I live for?

I think a reason that the book had the impact on me that it did is because I am afraid of dying, of losing my youth and being just another old person, feeling useless and unloved and unwanted in love. Morrie was so peaceful, had come to term with death, and was so thankful of the time he had left to spend with friends and family, and help them with the transition that death would bring. I know that a fear of death is natural, and the drive for self-preservation is an animal instinct within all of us. And I know that I have brought this up before, but if I felt ready to die, I would make sure it was by my own hand. I would not wait idly by for death to claim me. That lack of control is something that has me sleepless at nights… knowing that any day could be my last, and what would I have to show for it? What kind of impact would my life leave on people? Would it leave any? What have I done in my life to make me think that I deserve to have an impact on others? What do I need to do in order to feel I deserve to leave a somewhat lasting impression on people?

Every day, I am so caught up in my warped perception of reality, in the silliest things in life. I spend probably forty out of sixty minutes, every hour that I am awake, worrying about how ugly I am, fretting over how others see me, if they think I am just as ugly as I perceive myself to be, obsessing over every inch of myself, tormented at the thought that my hips are too wide, my shoulders too broad, my thighs too large, my stomach too flabby, my arms too droopy, my lips too full, my eyes too small, my nose too long, my hair too dry, my feet too big, my hands disproportionally tiny… It’s like a loop of self-doubt, self-loathing, and self-fear that is non-stop, always. The only time thoughts like that aren’t on my mind are when I am fully involved with someone else. If I am at work, and totally in to the role I am doing, talking to patients and answering their questions and assuaging their fears, my mind is fully on them and what I can do to help them feel more confident with their choices. I am not worried about my looks or what others are thinking about me. It’s the only mental peace I get in a day. There are times when I am less bothered with myself, like when I am having a conversation with a good friend about any old thing, but in the back of my mind during these times, the thoughts of self-disgust and dismay beat like a drum, constant, reaching terrifyingly loud crescendos in my head when they are allowed to grow.

I am going to look into volunteering at a senior centre a few times a month. I think that by giving myself to someone else for a few hours, listening to their stories, playing cards or board games, going for walks, I can feel a little less consumed in my own thoughts, and improve not only their time with my company, but improve my own life by letting myself have a mental break. I remember when I was a kid, grade four or five maybe, my class went to visit one of these centres, and I had such a wonderful time with the woman I was paired up with. I wrote her letters afterward, and for my birthday that year, she sent me a card that played music when it was opened. It was one of the most wonderful things I have ever received, and I smile fondly at the memory to this day. I would love to experience that again. I think that some people at these care facilities can be so lonely… some of them may be far from families, or not have anyone to visit them, and they pass the day waiting for someone to come give them attention and spend time with them. It breaks my heart to think of the loneliness that some of these seniors must feel. Being so close to something that terrifies me, aging and death, would help bring me back to a level of reality. Everyone dies, it’s a natural process, and not something to be feared. Instead of living every day in fear of my life being snatched away before I’m ready for it, I should be using each day to show people love and compassion and care, and give more to them than I could receive back.

As usual, I’m aware that these heavy thoughts are something that a twenty year old probably doesn’t need to be thinking about, but I think it’s important to be reminded of my own mortality, in order to make the best of the time I have while I am alive. I hold grudges that I should let go of. I feel anger and envy and lust and gluttony and sloth and every other one of those seven deadly sins, and though I know I won’t escape those feelings, as I think they are natural for a human to feel, I would like to learn to get past them easier, without letting them overtake my mind as they sometimes do now. I think a good goal is to forgive others, and to eventually forgive myself… maybe one day.

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Jun 28
2010

So the G8/20 summits are currently going on in Toronto, and I read today that about 530 demonstrators have been arrested in the short while it has been happening. That is ridiculous! The summit brings together financial leaders from around the world, and they discuss money issues that affect us across the world. High on the agenda this year is the shaky economy, and how to prevent such a wide-scale issue from happening again. Apparently a lot of headway was made, which is good to hear.

However, it’s not all daisies and butterflies, on the G20-side, or the protesters-side. Stephen Harper spent millions and millions on security because he chose to have it right in the financial district of downtown TO, which he was advised not to do. Originally it was supposed to be in Muskoka, where security would have been much easier to implement and would require less, but pretty last minute, Harper changed it. The entire price-tag was about 1 BILLION dollars. Holy shit. There are so many other things that money could have gone to… Not to mention that in a province absolutely filled with lakes, Harper decided to have one built. Fail. A meeting where frivolous spending was probably spoken about in depth, and he goes and puts in a man-made lake? What the hell was he thinking?

The protesters are a whole other story. You know, I’m flabbergasted and a little upset at the ridiculous amounts of money that went into this stupid summit. I think we should have just let it be hosted elsewhere to save us the cost, but whatever. Not my call to make, and I’m sure that it is good for Canada from a political standpoint. And I am all for a person’s right to stand up for what they believe in, and everyone has a right to speak out if they feel something is wrong, but there are right ways to do this, and ways that not only make your cause look like a group of crazy people, but it can put a stain on your permanent record for life if you do something stupid like get charged with a crime.

Protesters in TO set fire to police cars and busted windows and generally caused disarray in the city with their rioting. Over a meeting of financial leaders? Really? Riots cause nothing but destruction and rarely get the point across, especially in this case. I can understand people rioting over genocide or something dramatic like that, but there is a difference between peaceful protests that do not cause damage to property. It just isn’t necessary. I think that the cops are taking it a bit far with how many people they are arresting, and the tactics they are using, but at the same time, destroying other people’s property is wrong.

I can’t wait for it to be over. (And don’t even get me started on the stupid FIFA thing.)

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Jun 19
2010

To all the fathers out there who acted like a dad should, I applaud you, and I hope you have a wonderful time with your family this weekend.

To my own father, go fuck yourself :)

I always love seeing a father with his son, because I think that is such a strong, automatic bond. There is something that melts my heart when I see a father and daughter, though. The adoration, protectiveness and joy in the eyes of these fathers that I notice, it is so heartwarming. When I see it, I feel a pull on my heartstrings, and a deep longing that has been there since childhood. That love and bond is something I will always be envious of.

So, song of the night (and special occasion, I guess?) is dedicated my my own good for nothing DNA donour.

“Unforgiven” by Fefe Dobson

Daddy daddy
Why you break your promises to me
Daddy daddy
Don’t you know you hurt me constantly

And there’s something I think you should know
I’m not the little girl you left waiting at home
All the hurt and pain you left with mom and me
Why can’t I be angry
I hope you’re somewhere out there listening to this song
I hope you’re thinking what you did was wrong
Well let me make it crystal clear for you to see
It’s too late for I’m sorry

Sorry is a word you like to say
But sorry won’t erase the things you did yesterday

And I want you to know that I didn’t need you anyway
And this rope that we walk on is swaying
And the ties that bind us they will never ever fray
But I want for you to know
You are
You are
Unforgiven
Unforgiven

Daddy daddy
Fan of absolute simplicity
Daddy daddy
Expert in responsibility

Where were you when I fell down and skinned my knee
Where were you when I was scared to go to sleep
Where were you to soothe my insecurities
Why can’t I be angry

Where were you the first time someone broke my heart
Where were you when I first learned to drive a car
Where were you when I plugged in my first guitar
It’s too late for I’m sorry

And I want you to know that I didn’t need you anyway
And this rope that we walk on is swaying
And the ties that bind us they will never ever fray
But I want for you to know
You are
You are
Unforgiven
Unforgiven

Sorry is a word you like to say
But sorry won’t erase the things you did yesterday

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