Aug 25
2010

On Friday morning, there was an accident in Calgary, and there is video footage of it (though not available to the public.) A twenty one year old man was killed. This happens every day, car accidents are an inherent risk of being a driver. What happened to this particular man, though, really speaks to how apathetic people are becoming, and it’s especially sickening that this callousness is recorded.

Early in the morning, Philip Harper was in this car accident, but what makes this case stand out is that he was thrown out of his minivan, was laying on the pavement, and drivers drove around his body. No one stopped to see if he was okay. No one pulled over to check his pulse, to see if there was anything they could do, or stopped to give what little they could, just comfort in his last moments. I went to school with Phil in junior and high school. He had celebrated his birthday two months previously. Friday morning, Phil spent the last minutes of his life on the cold asphalt on a street in Calgary, and people gawked and kept driving.

I am completely and thoroughly disgusted. It’s not that I was close to Phil, because I wasn’t. We were always in different circles in school. It wasn’t that he was barely twenty one years old. It’s that people could harden their hearts to the point where they clearly see someone that was obviously in an accident, laying on the ground, alone in his pain and fear, and they can continue to drive. How is that even possible? I have been lucky enough to have only seen one accident in the two months that I have been driving, and it was already being dealt with by the police. But this accident went unreported by almost everyone that saw it happen, or saw the results.

Although I didn’t ever really talk to him, it is clear through the status updates from my friends on Facebook, and on the memorial page that has been set up for him, that he touched a lot of people’s lives. This accident has impacted a lot of people, and I can’t imagine how his family is feeling after learning that this horrific accident was witnessed by so many, but reported by so few. Even worse that no one stopped to comfort him, or even check on him.

It made me stop and consider what I would do if I saw this unfold before me, or what actions I would take if I saw the wreckage of an accident. And the results were fast, and painfully obvious… I would at the very least call 911 and report it. If I saw that no police were there, and someone could be hurt, I would pull over and see if there was something I could do… how is the answer not the same for everyone? How is it possible for people to be so heartless?

I have read the comments that are on the news articles, and they are disturbing. Some are justifying their inaction by saying that when they call 911, they get snotty people answering the phones, giving a bad attitude and saying that they have already received plenty of calls about that particular incident. They also use a roundabout reason by saying that because the police don’t want us to use our phones while we drive, we are setting ourselves up to get penalized for doing this. Seriously? You don’t think that they would look the other way in this case? Reporting an accident is a necessity. They can’t know something happened unless they are TOLD, or happen to have a cruiser out and about and come across the carnage. What if it was your son or daughter that was lying on the street after a horrific accident, and people slowed down and swerved to avoid any contact with the vehicles, and carried on their merry way? Could you live with yourself if it was proven that had you called the police, the person would still be alive? The first ten minutes after an accident are the most critical to save the victim’s life.

R.I.P. Phil. It’s obvious that you were a great person that brought a sparkle to a lot of people. I’m sorry the world had to lose you when you had so much more life to live. You, your family and everyone else that was affected by your death are in my thoughts.

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Aug 24
2010

It’s probably bad to be wishing for a vacation less than a week after returning from my trip to Halifax. You know, it doesn’t even need to be going anywhere. I don’t want to do anything. I need more of a mental vacation… just a break from thought and feeling for a while.

I keep getting told that life isn’t a movie and I need to get the ridiculous ideals and plot-lines out of my head, because they will never come to fruition. But… why not? Why can’t I have my life as a movie, with a lead-man that would prove to his heroine that he loves her through one, not even grand, gesture? Actions speak louder than words… they do. Anyone can say words, and there are a lot of people who spin tales of wonder and whimsy and love but it really means nothing at all. Actions are harder to do, take more effort, and therefore actually mean something a little deeper. Words are just that. I don’t even need the movie dream-job, or perfect family, or the quirky friends (not that I don’t have them), or the body of Heidi Montag (though that would be a close second on my wish list).

I just want that all-consuming, inferno of love that warms me with its intensity. Although I wish I could become an actress, so that even if my real life isn’t a movie, I could pretend for a while at least, even after writing this tiny bit, I’ve come to realize that what I want is…

To feel like I’m worth it.

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Aug 22
2010

On Thursday, a 32 year old man jumped to his death from the roof of a stage in California. Police say it was suicide. He landed next to the lead singer on the stage while the band (The Swell Season) was playing. Apparently, the man (Michael Pickels) was in quite a lot of legal troubles, and this was the way he decided to get out of them.

Then in Belgium, on Thursday a member of a band playing for a festival died of a heart attack. And today, at the same music festival (“Pukkelpop”), the lead singer of a band called “Ou est la Swimming Pool,” (for those of you who don’t speak French, it translates to “Where is the swimming pool”) jumped to his death from a satellite mast in the parking lot after his show. His name was Charles Haddon, and he was only 22 years old. He was distraught due to his keyboardist, Joe Hutchinson, dived into the crowd and reportedly broke a girls spine.

This is all just really, really sad. I can’t imagine what the families of those involved are going through, and how horrible for those who had to witness these three separate deaths.

RIP to all, and I hope the injured girl recovers quickly…

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Aug 14
2010

So here I go. Although I have been having a really hard time lately when it comes to my mental state, I am trying to keep that off of ORN for a while. I’ll focus on writing about other things.

Tonight I went for a drive to a convenience store to get some juice and Tic Tacs, and had to go somewhere else for gas, and found it intriuging that just like in DC, the attendants there had to buzz people into the store, and the one place didn’t even let people inside, paying for gas was done through a little window, and the guy was separated by bullet-proof glass. In Halifax? Really? I asked the guy if all the gas stations here were like that, and he said “They are in neighbourhoods with lots of crackheads.” I remarked that it was strange (and amusing) to me, since in Calgary, no matter how late it is or how sketchy you look, you can waltz into any convenience store that is open, and there are no barriers of any kind. And Calgary has like, 1.3 million people in it. That is more than the entire population of Nova Scotia. He said “Sure, but do you ever go to the bad parts of Calgary?” And, working downtown next to the notorious “Crack-Macs,” I have encountered my share of drug addicts, and been in shady areas of Calgary, and no, still no crazy measures like that. So now I’m wondering, are places like Halifax being overzealous, especially considering that Nova Scotia has one of the lowest crime rates in Canada, or are they being proactive? Or is it Calgary that has it backwards, and they should be making more efforts to protect their service attendants at night? Probably all of the above. However, people are crazy, and if they are wanting to cause harm, they will find somewhere to do it. A Subway was held-up, so was one of those payday-advance stores… people are nuts. If they can’t go to a gas station to get their money (or whatever they want), they’ll go elsewhere.

On a different note, there is this friend of mine who seems to constantly be pushing people away, and building a wall around himself. Although he and I haven’t talked in a few months, I watch him go through this and I wish there was something I could do. I used to care for him deeply. Well, I guess I will always care for him, but I’ve tried to put things on a back-burner because all of my effort was always futile, and it finally got to the point where it was hurting me to keep trying to help and to have him reject it. So I left him alone. And I will continue to do so, but it’s hard. Damned if I do, damned if I don’t. It probably gets to me more because I do the same… I’m constantly pushing away those who are closest to me, especially when I’m going through the most emotional turmoil… It’s frustrating.

Then I have this other friend that I absolutely adore, and I’m struggling to keep my mouth shut about some things going on with him. I know he’s unhappy with the direction his life is going, and it’s progressing at the pace of a runaway train, and headed for the same destructive ending, but he won’t do anything to stop it… Our mutual friends have talked to him about it and told him plainly that he needs to end things, but I try to refrain from doing so because it’s not my place to tell him how to run his life. I just hope that he makes the right decision for him, so that he is happy now, and in his future. Hard to remain impartial when I see him hurting, but I think he knows that I just wish him happiness, whether it is on the current path he is on, or elsewhere. I hope he knows that I’ll be here to help him regardless, as will our other friends.

Sigh. The longer I’m out here, not knowing a soul, and just… living… I think I should find a place like this and just settle in, become a new person where no one knows me… and just have a clean slate. Maybe a clean break from everything will help snap me out of this depression that has gripped me again lately, although even on vacation, with no work and all play, I’m having an incredibly hard time getting out of bed to enjoy myself. Today I spent the entire day in… I just didn’t have the will to see people, and I still don’t. I don’t know what the hell is wrong with me… Aren’t people supposed to have the time of their lives on vacation? I thought being here, away from all the stress at home, I would be able to feel better. I’m pushing myself to get out and do things because I know I would regret it if I didn’t, but god this is hard lately. I know I’m being ridiculous, and I wish I could just wake up and feel normal, but it just doesn’t work like that. I so want someone to reach out, but I know I will either laugh it off and say I’m fine, or just push them away.

It’s so hard.

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Jul 29
2010

Today I dropped off those other pictures to A’s house, and all night I have been in a shitty mood because I smashed my phone in my car door and it cracked, and I can’t afford another damn phone. When I was in the neighbourhood, I got really nostalgic about Sadie, as I always do, but it hit especially hard. So of course, tonight I see a woman walking a gorgeous greyhound that looked just like Sadie, only with a patch of white on her face and the slightest hint of brindle… I burst into tears. I have been crying a lot lately, I’m sorry I keep writing about it. Most normal people would be over it by now. I mean, we gave her back December fourth, that is ages ago.

I’m not over it. I don’t think I ever will be. That was one of the cruelest things to happen in my life so far… to have a dog of my own after yearning for twenty years… then to have her taken away. (Ya ya, easy life.)

Sigh.

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Jul 25
2010

I’m sitting here on the floor in my basement, going through at least twenty five boxes of stuff to pull out a few things I need (external hard-drive, important documents, books,) and I stumbled across a few things that managed to escape my breakup purge of mementos from A. I was already sensitive because I found the key hook frame that I made with Sadie’s name and image on it, and when I haphazardly flipped through the calendar that A made for me, I instantly had a deluge of huge tears rolling down my face. Thank god my mom was way upstairs and couldn’t hear me sob, because she would have thought I broke a bone or something.

How long will it be like this? I wish I would just be impervious to anything regarding A now. It has been seven months… isn’t that long enough? Why do I still cry? It’s not that I still have feelings for him (I’m actually pretty upset over a little incident he and I had on Thursday,) it’s not that I would ever want him back… so what is it? I have always heard it takes half the time you were dating to get over someone, but I really really hope that isn’t true. I can’t go through two more years of random fits of crying over this.

Am I just being a melodramatic female? I know that I often fall into that category about things… but is this one of them?

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Jul 3
2010

I remember we were driving, driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped ’round my shoulder
And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone, be someone, be someone…
(Tracy Chapman – Fast Car)

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Jun 28
2010

- Booked my hotel for Halifax. Ohhhhh man, my Visa is getting a workout lately. Dislike.

- I have learned that with booking things online, attention to detail is key. For the hotel I booked, there was the option of getting the exact same room, but paying an extra $34.17 a night for “free wireless internet.” Um… that is a pretty steep price for free! I called the hotel and asked about it, and she reassured me that it was complimentary, and wasn’t sure where Expedia was getting that extra fee from. Nice try, you sneaky bastards.

- I really hate places like Home Depot. I just get so bored, and quickly tire of the pungent scent of B.O. that permeates everything in the damn place. I guess I would like it more in places like that if I was decorating my own house and had free reign over everything, but doing measurements and looking at blinds and rugs gets pretty damn tedious, quite quickly.

- I was perusing Facebook and looking at friends of friends, and came across a few people that I knew in grade ten. It was such a strange feeling to see people who I had huge crushes on, but since then have completely forgotten their existence. SO weird. It always surprises me when the people I put out of my mind for years suddenly come back into my head and with them, a flood of memories.

- Barbecue sauce is the best sauce for pretty much anything. I had a huge, beautiful piece of salmon that I slathered with some Sweet and Sticky Bulls Eye barbecue sauce, and it was phenomenal. I can’t wait to use it on my veggie burgers!

- Today I watched a few episodes of the Dog Whisperer, and it has been kind of difficult. It was something I always watched with A on lazy Sunday afternoons, and it just makes me miss Sadie and things so much…

- You know what’s great? I work tomorrow (Monday), but I’m off Tuesday through Friday. Woohoo!

I hope you all had a wonderful weekend :)

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Jun 1
2010

Sigh. It’s nights like this that I wished I drank. Or at least, drank in a way that those who want to do nothing but forget do. A state of oblivion would be so welcome right now. It makes me reminisce about the days when I was fifteen and sixteen and drinking vodka alone in my bedroom in the cold basement of my mom’s house, sobbing and making a mess of my arms and being in an overall state of absolute chaos. Nothing has changed, except I can’t really stand the taste of alcohol anymore. Not since the night that A and I had a horrible fight, and I left the condo to be alone. I crossed the street, shivering in the steady stream of cold air that was blowing through the city, and made my way to the liquor store that was behind our condo complex. I was a disaster, my face was blotchy and red from crying so hard, my makeup was running down my face along with my tears that I just could not stop, and I tried so hard to keep it together until I had a bottle in my hand. After not drinking for four years, I had no idea what to get. I just remembered that vodka was not what I was seeking, and that rum used to seem easier to gulp down in a hurry. (I thought I should add that even writing this has completely turned my stomach, and I feel ill just thinking about the burn that alcohol brings.) I shakily grabbed a bottle of Beefeater, purchased it and slipped out the door. Turning around the corner, I went into the 7-11 and selected a beverage that I thought would most-easily mask the flavour of the alcohol. After I bought the Green Crush, I walked to the chain-grocery store and covertly went straight to the grimy bathroom there. I poured out the majority of the unnaturally-green pop so I could put all the rum into that bottle, rather than walk around double-fisting drinks. From here, I went to catch a bus so I had a warm place to sit and be alone. I proceeded to get very very drunk as the route-14 made its loop around Brentwood. With my mind weaving in and out of itself, I jumped off the bus and walked into a convenience store along the way, hell-bent on getting some candy. By this time A had called repeatedly, and I finally picked up and told him where I was. He came to get me, and I stayed quiet to not blow my cover. He was hungry and we went to a drive-through, and we started arguing and he asked “Ashley… are you drunk?” “No…” I slurred. Busted. The night got progressively worse from there.

And tonight? My thoughts are just too loud. I am stuck in reverse, walking backwards down the dark alleys of my mind. I’m repeatedly stepping off the bus, slowly walking by the UPS store, the shut-down store that used to sell fancy home decorations, past the pizza store that made me intensely crave pizza each and every damn time I walked by, the fish-and-chips restaurant that had just opened, the flower shop… finally reaching Sobeys, in which I usually wandered around just to kill time by browsing the aisles of food, trying to fill the minutes until A got home four hours later. Then I would finish my walk home, turn on my computer and wile away the hours.

I am back at the park halfway between my house and Chinook mall, holding hands with A.S.H while staring up at the stars. We were both so young and inexperienced with life. It was a time of coy smiles, shy kisses, and trying to act way more grownup than we actually were. I remember him holding the black purse I carried everywhere with me, and carrying it back on our way to the mall after we finished at the park. I can picture the red brick column that dug into my back as we kissed with all the passion and frustration that we couldn’t quite put our fingers on at that age.

Mudvayne is blaring on the way to High River from Calgary in a rickety old pickup truck, with nearly overwhelming feelings of regret, disgust, and bitter resignation.

I wonder why it is like this now, and why it gets progressively worse… what is it that is holding me back from giving in to happiness that is potentially right around the corner? How do I jump the walls that are impeding my progress, my joy…? How will I ever learn to just let myself live? And live in a way that just flows, and doesn’t hinder things, and that doesn’t run and hide when I touch something resembling feeling fulfilled, like I’m going somewhere… How do I free myself?

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Apr 29
2010

It’s becoming laughable.

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