Saturday, July 31, 2004
the long road home
Every time I've been out here to visit in the last ten years I make it about three days. Three days before I start thinking - "I want to go home." Three days before I'm already back there in my mind. Three days before I'm wondering whether the dog's okay. Three days before I'm making a list in my head of what needs to be done when I get back to work.Today, sitting in D's yard in front of his cabin in the woods, watching him and Ralphie play frisbee, it comes to me, suddenly, "I don't want to go home." I drove 1,000 km to get here, 1,000 more around the island and tomorrow I'm driving another 1,000 km in the opposite direction from where I want with all my heart to be, to go to a place I don't want to go to, to get up in the morning and go to a job I no longer want to do.
It's the hardest thousand kilometres I think I will ever drive.
I know that Calgary has served it's purpose for me and that I'll be leaving somewhere along the way but I don't think I truly realized until this week what that meant. In terms of the inner Jen, the reasons I left this island in the first place and the things I've needed to learn. Now that I've learnt them, it doesn't mean that I need to return here but it just makes the urge to leave Calgary that much stronger. So I can go somewhere else and learn other things. I doubt any of this is making sense, I'm utterly exhausted. Sorry.
I spent the afternoon at my old landlord's place while they barbequed their own cow (who's name was BBQ, by the way) and she turns to me out of the blue and says, "We've got the two houses and a suite, Jen, you do know that we'll evict someone and you can come back anytime, right?" Somehow she always just knows when my thoughts turn and what direction they're taking.
...and just for a minute, I actually contemplated saying yes. If I were as impulsive as I used to be. In fact, if I had pushed Mike to give me the job he's got, I would right now be deciding whether to sell the condo or just rent it out and asking my brother-in-law to pick up a car for me.
But even though this week was overflowing with love and laughter and utterly perfect moments that will forever have their little hooks in my heart, it's time for me to go 'home', at least for a little while longer.
I'll see you guys in another 1,000 km.
Thursday, July 29, 2004
Two poems
The first is the one I've been trying to remember from high school...As the Mist Leaves No Scar
Leonard Cohen
As the mist leaves no scar
On the dark green hill,
So my body leaves no scar
On you, nor ever will.
When wind and hawk encounter
What remains to keep?
So you and I encounter
Then turn, then fall to sleep.
As many nights endure
Without a moon or star,
So will we endure
When one is gone and far.
the hand moves above
the center of the flesh
trembles
and
descends
the entire world settles in,
the hand moves
smooths
delicious ease in every motion,
small secret smiles
against my neck
laying still,
I try to be empty, for once,
of words.
buffeted by the wind
I pick up the pen and touch my throat
I put it down again
I am thinking of you
listen
listen
A few words
A gift
One hot sentence
...and again.
Monday, July 26, 2004
island life
Having survived the fourth or fifth attempt on my life in the last couple weeks....including...1. alcohol poisoning during Stampede.
2. erm...can't say this one in polite company.
3. the 8 million hour hike in North Van which has made my feet very unhappy.
(don't get me wrong, it rocked - all of it and even though the feet are unhappy, the rest of me isn't)
... I spent the entire ferry ride outside on the deck writing and arrived at maJen's about 10 pm - the sister and brother-in-law stopped by and then maJen and I stayed up till 3 am. Today, up at 9, we went shopping at Coombs, laid around in the sun, drank beers (well, I laid around and drank beers while maJen hit the doctor's appt she had (all good, you guys)) and we are now at my mom's best friend's, Bonnie the kiwi, who is absolutely hilarious - while I "fix her computer" and she does a little alteration to the ass of my bikini.
That would be a little too much bikini and not enough ass, if you really need to know.
We picked up some fresh wild salmon for dinner - oh, yeah, and even though it came with head-already-whacked-off, I'm so not doing the cooking and then having an early night. Especially since she's out on the balcony hacking me to Bonnie about the mess I left in the bathroom this morning. Damn woman. I just told her I picked the ugliest picture I could find of her to put in the gallery on the internet. That'll teach her.
The bottom of my big toe is one big blister. I've been sort of not stepping on it in the hopes it would just dry up or something equally insanely unrealistic. I finally just popped the damn thing and dumped a bunch of alcohol on it (real alcohol - not Corona - that's alcohol abuse).
The cell service here is spotty at best and I've been missing calls from Mike and, yanno, that's all I got. It's hot. Tomorrow is tea leaf reading and then I'm off again to somewhere else.
...and now I must actually fix Bon's computer.
Cheers.
lyric at post:
..I could be a young man or I could be old,
I could be a gentleman or I could be violent..color>
Sunday, July 25, 2004
Friday, July 23, 2004
jesus, would you just leave already?
Although I will be making an attempt to "write notebooks full of wonder to transcribe upon your return." I do have one more thing to say that I can't leave without doing.I've been thinking about wonder a little lately and before I actually go I am taking a brief break to inadequately describe the sense of wonder I've been feeling lately.
Over the last year I've been given a great many gifts. As strange as those gifts may be to those of you who are nonbloggers, to us I think they are one of the most important things we have. They include open minds brimming with fantastic ideas and wonderful thoughts and endless boundless words of support and understanding. Not like any understanding that exists in the 'real' world. Or at least not in my real world.
The gift of friendship. The kind of friendship that is almost instantly recognizable across countries and miles and borders. Maybe because of those distances and maybe just in spite of them. Friendships that are more powerful and cherished in the deepest part of me for the simple fact of how they came about, how they inspire me to grow and how I know they will endure.
The gift of feedback from those who don't confuse "who" you are with "what" you write, whether they are the same thing or not. And occasionally, the gift of someone who almost effortlessly knows which bits are who you are and what words to pay attention to.
I wrote something in December last year that I saw last night again and that was about some of the things that I had learned ...that sometimes, people you don't know are more important than the people you do. That people you may never meet are still important relationships worth nurturing and effort.
In using this place as a place to learn, about myself and about others, I find myself with a strong support group, a band of 'fans' I don't feel I deserve and people I admire and revere who, strangely enough, don't feel that they deserve that from anyone else. We're a funny little bunch, aren't we?
The last little while has again renewed that faith and that wonder. I think that maybe I have to explain the feeling like exactly that and then stop.
All this is in part an attempt to say something to all of you but it is mostly a weak attempt to describe how I felt about the gift I found in my inbox this morning. In a week of firsts, this really was the first. I'm not going to share it because it wasn't that sort of gift but I cannot let it go by without at least saying that it was the best, most 'eureka', most 'thank you for getting it' kind of gift that finally and fully validated something I've been secretly hoping, without even being able to admit it to myself, that someday someone would come along and do.
I still don't have the words. The only ones I have are these here and maybe all I can do is add that I don't think I will ever be the recipient of something quite so precious again, because once in our lives could very well be too much to ask for.
I, finally am off to finish packing and spend some time drifting along in my innertube on this river of wonder, but I am going to borrow another's words as a final note.
Friendship is the comfort, the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person having neither to weigh thoughts or measure words, but pouring all right out just as they are, chaff and grain together, certain that a faithful friendly hand will take and sift them, keep what is worth keeping and, with a breath of comfort, blow the rest away.
Dinah Mulock Craik
Thursday, July 22, 2004
Summer Roadtrip Reading List
-list version over there on the right-My strange little book store has all these different 'areas' in it and up until now I've usually stuck with the horror, the fantasy and the suspense.
A couple of months ago I noticed the 'travel' section which led to such books as In A Sunburned Country and that creepy one about the scary bits of London.
Then I found the 'reference' section and got a bit lost in all those lovely sexy words held against their will (I'm sure) in such a structured environment. Although that time I came out with only a Thesaurus because frankly I was a bit disappointed that I did not see any Dictionary of Newfoundland English which eschie had put me in a mind to keep an eye out for.
Well, today I discovered a whole other ROOM!!!! I was beside myself. It was the mysticism, philosophy, cooking books, kid's books, hardcover books (and on) room!
So, here we have the list of the lucky books that will accompany me next week. I'll get the novels out of the way first.
The Man in the Moss by Phil Rickman cause he's brilliant.
No Night is Too Long by Barbara Vine.
Fever Pitch by Nick Hornby to maybe not learn about the game itself but more about the cultural fascination the Brits (et al) have with their football.
The Burning Altar by Frances Gordon
West Wind - a book of poetry by Mary Oliver sent for my birthday by the thoughtful and lovely Pob, which I've been saving for some quiet time.
"In her collection of 40 poems, Pulitzer and National Book Award winner Mary Oliver writes of nature and love and its paradoxical way of remaining a steadfast constant while slowly taking on new shapes and meanings. West Wind echoes Walt Whitman as it laments on the value of being alone in and with nature, while choosing a path all its own."
The Soul's Code by James Hillman, who apparantly was the inspiration for Thomas Moore's 'Care of the Soul'. Which I couldn't get through 10 years ago but this one intrigued me with this...
"Hillman discusses character and calling, introducing an "acorn theory" that claims that "each life is formed by its unique image, an image that is the essence of that life and calls it to a destiny." James Hillman presents an alternative, existential viewpoint that who we become as adults is predetermined before our birth, in the same way that the genetic code of a colossal oak rests within that tiny acorn. Borrowing the language of Plato's Myth of Ur, Hillman suggests that this imaginary sense of our lives or callings drives each of us like a personal daimon or force. Without succumbing to oversimplification or wishful thinking, Hillman challenges the reductive "parental fallacy" - the contention that our early experience with our parents determines our selves and our futures. The daimon, he says, pulls us up out of mere conditioning to have a fate. In this brilliant, absorbing work, Hillman dares us to believe that we are each meant to be here; that we are needed by the world around us. "
Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs -*A Low Culture Manifesto by Chuck Klosterman, who had me almost from the get go...
...the first book in history to examine breakfast cereal, reality television, tribute bands, Internet porn, serial killers, and the Dixie Chicks. Whether deconstructing 'Saved by the Bell' episodes or the artistic legacy of Billy Joel, the symbolic importance of the 'Empire Strikes Back'... Chuck will make you think, he'll make you laugh, and he'll drive you insane - usually all at once. As Klosterman realizes late at night, in the moment before he falls asleep, "In and of itself, nothing really matters. What matters is that nothing is ever -in and of itself-."
Twin Souls by P. Joudry & M. Pressman
Ever since I saw a movie years ago that was based on this idea and did some reading on it, it's been an enduring question and a source of curiosity for me. From Plato's story of Hermaphrodite who was split in two, eternally fated to search ceaselessly for its other half to the theories of soul attraction. The idea that every soul awaits it's completion and that every life tends toward that. That it is the motive from which all motives spring.
Which could end up being quite a nasty scrap with Mr. Hillman and his 'acorn' theory up there and the 'other half' theory down here. Should make for some lively page turning.
Regardless, I'll come out the other side with a few more little beliefs and some different points of view to add to my vault. After all, it took three years or so of reading about different religions to come up with one of my own. Part of that story is here and to this day it remains one of my favorite posts. Regardless, my core belief system - which includes my religion (no seperation between church and state here, nosiree) is something I own, something that changes as I learn and think and something that will never work for anyone else. Because, you see, I don't think it should - for the simple fact that there is no one else like me in all the world.
And no one else like you.
And I think sometimes we all forget that.
I'm off bright and early Saturday morning and won't have time tomorrow to say goodbye - I've snuck in a post or two that are new below in case you're really lonely without me. *snort* And there's even a little listy over on the left of a few of the ones that mean something important to me or that are favorites for some reason...
Have a great few days, I'll see you all soon, whether it's from the west coast (later, dude) or home again on the prairies (howdy, li'l cowpoke).
*mwah*
more bits
Because I just blew 40 minutes discussing books with someone who majored in religious studies in uni and is, of all things, our Newfie bartender at the 'ol Trap and Gill, I am way behind. Before I'm outta here for the night there's two, maybe three things....Neil - your emails are bouncing back. I'm worried. Where the hell are you?
Vancouver: Issued 4.00 PM PDT Thursday 22 July 2004
Tonight .. Clear. Windy near the coast this evening. Low 18.
Friday .. Sunny. High 27 except 34 inland. UV index 8 or very high.
Saturday .. Sunny. Low 18. High 31.
Sunday .. Sunny. Low 18. High 27.
Book shopping today. We should know by now how happy that makes me. I'll post a vacation reading list over to the right before I go.
Oh, going on vacation Saturday morning. Since no one offered to guest blog, you're all just gonna have to suck it up unless I happen upon some internet access. All writing will be in my notebook and will be selectively posted after I get home. Maybe a voice post but don't count on it.
Chris - Pretty much the only instance in the last couple years where I haven't done what I promised someone I would. And now I've gone and done it twice. I love you, girlie and one of the sweetest sounds in my life is hearing you're little 'Merkin voice say it too. I don't know how you put up with me.
In having the kiwi's and the Aussies here and trying to figure out what the hell they're saying I've seriously neglected my heritage. I realized on the way home tonight that I have not said, let alone THOUGHT, pants in ages (if blogger's not working it's 'brunching' on Feb 14 - I'm not referring to the cartoon but something in the text and I can't find the original post on that one, damn). Honestly, by the middle of 2006, I'll have so much slang that I'll have invented a new language. Then even less people will understand me. And that, my friends, will make me a linguist. A cunning one. So, here, Newfie, Brit and Aussie (written phonetically just cause it makes more sense and I think I got it all right).
Gwan b'ye, yer 'avin' me on, that's bloddy pants innit, ya wank'ah.
Lord t'undering jay-sus, ya yob, ya'r just too random for me.
My god, must go eat some mad cow, kick in the latent Albertan again. And if anyone got the joke up there, you are SO getting a present.
lyric at post:
..there is
something exciting about leaving everything behind..color>
EDIT:
snippet blitz so I can get to something resembling a concentrated approach to the mess on my desk
"I think everything's going to be fine. You just have to be a little more optimistic.""THAT? Coming from you? There must be a new definition of irony that I've not seen yet."
You think the people at work have noticed I've been a little snarly for months? *snort*
Best line of the week: And I'm this close to faking my own death and hiding in the woods.
Just cause I have to pull this one out every once in a while. If you haven't seen Blit Wizbot do "I Will Survive", I suggest you go here posthaste and forthwith to download it. Classic.
Couple hours on the phone with my oldest friend t'other night. Sometimes it's a bit gross to hear about what happened to who, but apparantly some guy I dated for a week in high school is now a crack addict with no teeth. Somehow I think I saw that coming when I ran into him 8 years ago and he was proud he'd just gotten out of jail for robbing the local Payless Gas. Even more telling than the robbery was the fact that he didn't go outside of his own neighborhood nor disguise himself to do it. *sigh*
Dreaming of the island....I walk on. The forest creatures follow this invader of their world, keeping just out of sight. Some watchful, some indifferent. I wonder idly if they would protect this place if I meant to cause it harm. An en masse attack, the inhabitants suspending their own prejudice and fear of one another long enough to subdue the evil intruder?
I feel their eyes upon me and sense their passage as they keep pace with me.
Oh and the new CD I burned for the trek across the mountains - the only one - can't be arsed right now to put in the time to do another.
28 Days - What's the Deal
Barney Bentall- - Come Back to Me
Butterfly Boucher - Another White Dash
Cat Stevens - Wild World
Dido - White Flag
Eddie Rabbit - Love a Rainy Night
The Waifs - London Still
Everclear - Amphetimine
Gangajang - This is Australia
GooGoo Dolls - Name
Headstones - Cubically Contained
Hunters & Collectors - Holy Grail
Zebra - John Butler Trio
Living End - Save the Day
RamJam - Black Betty
Sara McLaughlin - Song for a Winter's Night
Tricky - Excess
The Waifs - Lighthouse
Wide Mouth Mason - Change
The Irish Descendants - Barrett's Privateers
In a Canadian Broadcast Standards Council Ontario Regional Panel decision to the complaint that the Headstones lyrics for the above song played at 8:10 pm on CFNY-FM contained the words "bastards" and "fuckers" the response in part included this gem: "the programming codes administered by the CBSC clarify that 'the broadcaster's programming responsibility does not extend to questions of good taste.' Go Canada. *snort*
lyric at post:
..I could be asleep boy, or I could be awake
I could be alive and be the walking dead..color>
lyric at edit:
..I believe in different reasons
I believe in breath through seasons
I believe when snow flakes fall
I believe in buildings tall..color>
Wednesday, July 21, 2004
Mother Goose is a nasty bitch
I was digging about in my storage on a grey and drippy morning a few weeks ago searching in vain for a curling iron I've hung onto through at least 10 years of a brush cut, finally having to acquiesce to the nagging suspicion I really did toss it last year, thinking I would never grow the hairs again. Which of course only reinforces my conviction that when you throw things out, that's when you need them.But I did come across my "Mother Goose Treasury" which according to the bookplate, I acquired in 1978. Bringing it back inside and flipping idly through the pages, I wonder if Mother was English/Scot/Irish as there seems quite a lot of references to places and phrases over 'there'. (and yes, I realize they weren't written all by one woman named Mother Goose). Examples you say? (as the old boss said the other day - you could TELL me things, but why should I BELIEVE you without proof? Which might be why she's my old boss) Anyways, examples... 'The Kilkenny Cats' / misty moor / half a farthing candle.
Anyways, it struck me once again how absolutely nasty and brutal these nursery rhymes are. Did Mother hate all children? Did Mother want to instill in us a sense of the larger world of injustice and cruelty beyond our bouncing toes and narrow world view 30 years before we were quite ready for it? Did someone end up lynching Mother in an effort to just. shut. her. up.?
I just found one called 'See-Saw' and it's second verse goes....
Sold her bed and lay upon straw;
Was not she a dirty slut
To sell her bed and lie in the dirt.
My god, it's not our parents / society's fault we're all fucked up. It's Mother Goose! Okay, I can admit that maybe 'slut' meant something different a 100 years ago but do you think we could update here?
I could go on but, for once, I won't, as time is growing short and I must away...
Along with my own Mother's fabulous impression of the rat in Charlotte's Web talking with his mouth full of the egg case, this was my favorite thing as a wee tyke....
Who killed Cock Robin?
I, said the Sparrow,
With my bow and arrow,
I killed Cock Robin.
Who saw him die?
I, said the Fly,
With my little eye,
I saw him die.
Who caught his blood?
I, said the Fish,
With my little dish,
I caught his blood.
Who'll make his shroud?
I, said the Beetle,
With my thread and needle,
I'll make the shroud.
Who'll dig his grave?
I, said the Owl,
With my pick and shovel,
I'll dig his grave.
Who'll be the parson?
I, said the Rook,
With my little book,
I'll be the parson.
Who'll be the clerk?
I, said the Lark,
If it's not in the dark,
I'll be the clerk.
Who'll carry the link?
I, said the Linnet,
I'll fetch it in a minute,
I'll carry the link.
Who'll be chief mourner?
I, said the Dove,
I mourn for my love,
I'll be chief mourner.
Who'll carry the coffin?
I, said the Kite,
If it's not through the night,
I'll carry the coffin.
Who'll bear the pall?
We, said the Wren,
Both the cock and the hen,
We'll bear the pall.
Who'll sing a psalm?
I, said the Thrush,
As he sat on a bush,
I'll sing a psalm.
Who'll toll the bell?
I, said the Bull,
Because I can pull,
So Cock Robin, farewell.
All the birds of the air,
Fell a-sighing and sobbing,
When they heard the bell toll
For poor Cock Robin.
Right, then, who's up for a little therapy?
instant relaxation techniques
Buying your third pair of sunglasses in a week.I went to get a haircut this morning. And after the trauma of leaving the barbershop in March, I've come to like my little girlie hairdresser. On the weekend she broke her thumb. In three places. Had to have surgery. Playing softball. I'm thinking there's got to be better cover stories than that. Anyways, little girlie number two cut my hair. Did a good job too - although I have to say the head massage is better with 'ol thumbless. But now I have to go through that 'phase' again.
Oh wait, it's been in a 'phase' since March when I decided to grow it. Never mind.
Anyways, back in the office.... oh wait, no office stories.
Too bad. It was a good one. I'm not telling that story...I'm trying to tell this one - - -
Then I get this message on my line.... you know, one of those ominous mean ones...
We are calling for .... and you must call us back immediately at this number, in regards to an urgent business matter, while quoting this number and if you don't we're coming over later to trash your car."
I thought, aha! I don't have a car! Suckers. Then I remembered that on Friday - I will. So I called them back.
Turns out my PREVIOUS jerkoff cell phone provider (who I actually was with for 8 or 9 years even though I didn't really look that up at the time - I just yelled random numbers at them) and all that awful GRIEF I went through with them had sent my bill to a nasty collection agency. Which if you've known me for a while you will understand how absolutely fast this makes me go from giggly cute jenny to raging 'where's that goddamned baseball bat' mode.
I think for a sec, tell the guy to wait, go get my bill cause you know, I keep it close to my heart. I sit back down, take a couple deep breaths and ....
Yes, I do have my final bill in my hand, yes, it does say -final bill-. When was it due, you ask? Oh wait, let me check that. JULY 17.
Yes, I am such an irresponsible and despicable human being that my cell phone provider forwarded my file to a collection agency 2.5 business days after my bill was due.
Assholes.
Oh and because I haven't mentioned who they were because I think it's rude to slag companies unless they really deserve it....
ROGERS AT&T
ROGERS AT&T
ROGERS AT&T
ROGERS AT&T
ooh, that felt pretty good.
I'm getting out of the office now so I can go home and ignore the computer and actually maybe get some of the 8 million things done that I must do.
lyric at post:
..in the evening when the moon is shining marigold
that's when time draws a line down to your very soul..color>
Tuesday, July 20, 2004
practical applications of a good education
I booked the tea leaf reader today. Cause, you know, I'm exactly half my mothers age now. Or she's twice mine. I forget. I thought it would be cool for both of us to go for a birthday present. Of course, maybe not so cool if they tell either of us we're going to die. Isn't there some kind of code that they don't say bad shit? I guess we'll find out. I went a couple years ago and this woman was pretty damn amazing. I mean really..... tea leaves? There has to be some sort of latent freaky talent there. You know, it's not like palm reading or tarot cards, where that's a science or anything.Okay, I'm kidding. But tarot and palm can be learned. Things like tea leaves and aura reading, can't. At least that's my story and I'm sticking to it.
Besides, we all know I believe in faeries. What do you expect out of me? Rationality?
Moving right along so I can get to the gallery....
I've been unable to master the Chacos I bought on Canada Day.
Did I really put some effort into it? I must admit that I did not.
...until I spent a day in them at the Stampede with feet that were already 4 days into cowboys boots and some other boots and were fucking killin' me.
Oh, then I put some seeeeeerious work-up-a-sweat effort into it.
Although, again, I have to admit it's hard to do up a seemingly complicated series of straps while you are hopping up and down on one foot in the beer line at the Chuckwagon races.
And if you've already been sweating like a pig for four days (and why do they say that? pigs can't sweat - that's why they like mud). Whatever...you know what I mean.
Okay, maybe they're REALLY not all that complicated. To the rest of the world. Maybe I'm just unable to THINK in the correct sequence of steps. Maybe I'm just a spatially dysfunctional girl.
It's a known fact, ya know. Girls don't think in 3D. Mostly. I read a research paper on it once. And if it were one of my talents, instead of being just a kick ass line programmer able to troubleshoot like a motherf***er, I'd be a circuit designer. But, I have to be able to see it and understand it and it has to make sense to me. And even though I got one of the engineers to tutor me, (sure, it was in a bar and I paid him in beer, but it still counts) I could memorize the formulas and DO it but I didn't understand it fully, and that's not good enough:
It just didn't make SENSE to me. (and don't tell me it does to you - I don't care)
Where was I? Oh, yeah, the sandals....
Maybe it's the fault of the guy in the store who told me that ALL the straps were interconnected that was throwing me off. I'm too trusting.
Cause, you know, once an engineer looks at them and explains that the straps are connected in tandem with each other but not TO each other and as soon as I adjust them with that knowledge firmly in mind....
...THEY FIT LIKE HEAVEN.
I have happy feet.
So, thanks, eh?
I forgot some films this morning and I have a CD somewhere with pre-90's stuff on it. Will update soon and I think I seriously need to do some monkeying around with the whole damn thing, but I've just realized how much I have to get done in three days. Shit. Shit.
Galleries are up. Their permanent link is on the left under "Everywhere".
Man, I'm tired.
But one, I just noticed that Picasa has software and if I just did all this for nothing, I will kill the cat. I mean it. Don't make me.
And two, I'm worried Jeff's had to have his leg cut off. I still can't pick that cloth up out of the sink. Maybe I can pay someone else to do it.
And three, I just can't resist the urge to check my email before I got to bed, can I? Now I don't think I can sleep.
I'm ready for my close up, Mr Demille
--ohhhhh, so that's what they did while I was away.Did I say that out loud? I think I whispered it.
So, I'm reading the solicitation and submission requests this morning and it seems that they're looking for someone to provide firefighting services at two airports in Iraq.
Seriously - do you think anyone's gonna go for it?
Some of the military requests in here make me fear even more for the future of the planet. But I won't go into that, no point in all of us being scared shitless. I'll just throw that burden on the pile underneath my bed and the rest of you can go happily about your business in blissful ignorance.
One question and one only ... what's "coherent radiation equipment"? There's such a thing as "incoherent" radiation equipment? What does it do, panic and start screeching gibberish when it detects danger before breaking down, sobbing quietly and moaning - "its over, its all over, too late, we're doomed"?
I'd recommend making sure you're fully vaccinated though. For everything. Right now. Go on, I'll wait........
Oh, while I'm waiting - pics are back and everything will be up tonight. Just one below, due to the fact that the irony involved is pretty rich.
I just have to go on record as saying that I oppose digital cameras (and those who never put them down) on a decent and clean-living moral basis. Especially when the decency and general citizen 'upstandedness' involved may be mine. By this you can assume that my pictures are all posed. By this you can also assume that other people have pictures that were not.
Just so you know. Opposed. I'll just leave it at that.
(hey, if it's in writing, it must be true, yes?)
*sigh* Tired of waiting. Impatient. Must go have a chai. I'll boycott Starbucks starting tomorrow, I promise.
lyric at post:
..just phoning it in,
just breaking the skin..color>
Monday, July 19, 2004
cat lovers?
This is the funniest thing I have read in forever. It's really long though. So here's a little bitsy piecey of it.I've just spent freaking HOURS redoing the galleries. I even found a rocking freeware album maker. Except, then.... you realize you should have laid it out completely differently in the very first five minutes and so have to go back and start all over again. So, sorry, I gave up. But it's all ready and good to go to add in the new stuff.
Are ya 'cited?
I was thinking today how much I missed this place and then I realized.... no access in BC next week. Except maybe one day at Lesley's. So, maybe an audio post or two? After the novelty of the first one they get a bit tedious. And PornyBoy is not around to guest blog. Which makes me want to cry (you bastard! *fist shaking in the direction of Scotland*). Which I'm still upset that no one commented on cause I absolutely loved that post. I just can't do it like that boy can, you know?
So, guest blogger. I'm not asking anyone specifically cause this week I'm all about fear of rejection. Anyone feel like coming in here and making shit up?
lyric at post:
..I'm jaded and you're beautiful
I'm deluded and I'm envious of you..color>
re-addition
I've added some stuff back. There are no changes to the decor per se, one or two little updates.Something I should probably mention - in 100 things I said there was nothing I could think of that I wouldn't eat. I have one now. Vegemite.
brrrr.
I will also never sniff food I have not seen before at 8 am. Again.
It's still too hot here for me to sleep properly (although ending up on the floor last night may have something to do with that) but we just had a thunderstorm. And we already know how I feel about those.
lyric at post:
..between your toes, this is how it goes
down with a beer in my hand ..color>
Sunday, July 18, 2004
hanging with the homeboy
Because, I'm back. At least every couple days, for now.Although, you know, what happens in Vegas, stays in Vegas. So, you may get the pics of Stampede but you will not be getting the stories. Sorry, man. Although judging by some of the T3's digital pics, I don't remember some of the stories myself. Er....but knowing resourceful T3 - they may end up online.
Maybe that cute little hair tuft below the lip story but...that's probably it.
So, GrandMaster D's visit. Which was totally a couple days past when he should have been here. Regardless, I'm so done with the Stampeding so we hung out on the balcony with a bottle of wine to do our twice yearly 'catching up'.
I haven't actually had those kind of relationships here for the last 10 years, not like our tight group back home. I miss them a lot and actually missed them even more than usual this week just due to the fact that the people around me were a pretty tight little group and because I spent some time describing him to Matt, which always makes you miss your buddies, right? Those relationships that even though you don't spend all your time together, the time you do spend together is full of those (esch I remember somewhere on the old site you had an area that was the 'things you just had to be there for jokes' but for the life of me I can't remember it and it was way the hell wittier). Anyways, those in-jokes. That easiness around each other. That understanding that they know exactly what the hell you're talking about. The things I can tell D that I can't tell you or anyone here for the simple fact that it means nothing without knowing the history of the Jen. No one else has the right or the ability to turn to me and say, "Aw, but fuck, it's not like you have EVER .... remember that time....?"
Like when D walks in and hasn't even taken off his shoes before he mentions the trip and I reply and then he hits right on devil's advocate and I rise right up to the bait. Whereupon he looks over at Cara and says, "See, the thing about Jen is you've got to antagonize her to get her going and make sure she does what she means to just to fucking prove you wrong. That's my job." (not that I agree with that but yanno, it's an example). The little shit.
He's studying to write his pilots licence and flys the little Cessna's so will be out here next month with a plane. I may even let him take me for a ride. I'm not so sure I've forgiven him for one of his last little 'jokes' though. The full story of this road trip is here.
During the road trip to Winnipeg the shithole hotel we were staying in had a bathtub that took an hour to fill up so it's running and running and he goes in there to pee or talk to himself or something and when I get up to go in and have my bath there's a paper napkin stuck to the tile above the water that says....
"I peed in your bathwater."
At that point, you just have to have the damn bath, no matter what. Cause you just spent an hour waiting for it and it's -25 outside and all you want to do after spending a day in a peeler bar with your buddies is have.a.bath. And you don't think he did, but you can't totally be sure....
Anyways, back to the planes - we end up in the following conversation....
So, renting a plane, how much is that? Is it fairly reasonable or what?
It used to be $100 but now with tax it's about $125 an hour.
Seriously? It that even worth it?
Flying's fun.
There's a lot of things that are fun that don't cost $125 an hour, dude.
Yeah, but you have to talk to them, take them out on your anniversary, buy them shit...
And that, my friends, is one of the reasons I became the girl I am.
There is a whole bunch of pics actually in the gallery (including that freaking napkin) - you know, the one I took down - but I will do my best to get the whole thing back up this week. The chronicles of the monkey, Spank. Cause there are pics from March with the Monkey and there will be more in a few weeks.
There was a little convo with the female parental unit (I mentioned this a couple weeks ago but then never went into it any further) and my vacation next week may actually have to be a mom visit. Anyways, I've got too much work to do this week so I can't even contemplate what the hell I'm doing on Friday until at least Thursday.
And it's really hot here and although I was absolutely tickled pink to share my space this week I've been unused to doing that with anyone so by extension was looking forward to sleeping tonight in my gorgeous bed. Alone. But now one of my best friends gets the other half. As much as I love him, that sucks. Cause, you know, ewww. With the best friends, it doesn't matter if they're boy or girl, it's like sharing a bed with a brother or sister. Which then involves pajamas just cause it's eww. Did I mention it's hot here? It's 11:30 and it's 26 (82). Jeezus.
Oh but man, he did come up with the best two Canadian classic songs that must not be missed by the boys. Once I download them. And although, as a board member, I could have probably done without him on the balcony yelling,
short ones, curly ones
sticking outside the panty ones,
I've seen ***** ****, man"
That was a parody of some Johnny Cash song but does anyone whatsoever out there remember Maclean and Maclean? And that song, "**"? Oh, god, they were good. One's dead though although (of course) I saw them live when both of them were still alive. (starred out so that people stop fucking googling it and coming here, it annoys the shit out of me)
Oh god, and this Alberta country band, with the 'ol.....
And I don't give a fuck
Got a heater in my truck
And I'm off to the rodeo
It's an allamande left
And allamande right
C'mon you fuckin' dummy
Get your right step right
The rocking thing is that Cara is now travelling in a little better style to as close as an hour or two to her destination. Cause the Greyhound across the country is just nasty. I know - I've done it. And since I worked there, I did it for free, but even then....nasty. D may even be able to hook her up out there.
And on that note, my work here is done.
*mwah* I've missed you guys. Still, we do have a little 'attention to real life and that thing you do that pays you' issues to deal with which I can put off until August..until it's all done, I'll be a little more sporadic than the 'daily a-jen-da". I appreciate the emails and everyone's kind words. If you emailed within the last five days, I've barely had time to check so will get back to you Monday.
Who's been cleaning up in here?
Jeez, go away for a couple days and someone comes in and renovates. Now I don't know how anything works.I'm alive. That's all I got.
And an hour ago, I called my little buddy Derek and he says, "I'm just driving into Banff, I'll be there in two hours. I got 10 days off, want to come for a drive? "
Uh, no. I want to sleep for a week in someplace that has airconditioning. I'ts good to know his sense of advance notice still freaking sucks. He was planning to come through on the way back, when I won't be here.
But I may have just saved our girlie Aussie a long bus ride by handing her off.
And I'll be roadtripping myself in 7 days.
Neil? Check your email. Now.
There'll be pics up at some point this week. Now I have to go shower.
lyric at post:
..dream warm and hard and true in pieces, in colors, in a cloud of awkward blue..
Friday, July 16, 2004
Stampede. Wednesday. Me and those Aussie people.
Tuesday, July 13, 2004
grinning like an ass - it's all about the percentages
Today.10% about the nice gentlemen (Mike and Dave) at the free Stampede lunch who kept 'buying' me beers, even though everyone was only supposed to get one. And the fact that my hair is horribly and wrongly long enough at this point to be 'seductively tousled' and in spite of me calling their hometown 'Trauma, Omterrible' (Toronto, Ontario) and handing off the beers to the boys (who apparantly I'm giving dance lessons to tomorrow).
2% to the beer I am *still* drinking 7 hours later courtesy of the copious bestowals of the gentlemen above who's beer I accepted despite the advertising companies idea to target the men and print....."available in bars, much like you" in large letters on the side.
10% to the comment..."It may be your birthday but I feel like I'm the one getting the presents." and (after spending a good portion of said birthday arranging things for a threesome of international visitors) to *this* text message - - - "Lonely? Unattached? 35? For a good time call ***-1139.... Guaranteed to make you smile one way or another..."
(T3 for those of you following along.)
10% to being told I'm amazing. By someone who indulges me and is held in utmost respect and with much love, along with the full realization of the burden I am dropping.
15% to just letting.it.go.
3% to the guy who totally checked me out even though I'm 35.
and fully 50% to that completely unexpected package I got in the mail today. I am SO smiling like an idiot. So... this one's for you, which covers the best of me and the best I've come to love about you...
Maples
The trees have become
suddenly very happy
it is the rain
it is the quick white summer rain
the trees are in motion under it
they are swinging back and forth they are tossing
the heavy blossoms of their heads
they are twisting their shoulders
even their feet chained to the ground feel good
thin and gleaming
nobody can prove it but any fool can feel it
they are full of electricity now and the shine isn't just pennies
it pours out from the deepest den
oh pretty trees
patient deep-planted
may you have many such days
flinging your bodies in silver circles shaking your heads
over the swamps and the pastures
rimming the fields and the long roads hurrying by.
Mary Oliver
(be careful, you do that long enough and your face is going to freeze that way)
Monday, July 12, 2004
an awfully nice birthday present or two
They announced today that Alberta will pay off it's debt this year. Cool. It's a bit frightening though, that in 1993 it was 23 billion dollars. He may be a drunk good 'ol boy who goes to homeless shelters to pick fights, but hey, you just can't have it all, can you?Strangely enough, this birthday, starting at 8 am with an unexpected phone call, has been one of the best in a very long time. That is due a great deal to you guys being a part of my life and in being remembered by some surprising people out here in the 'real world'. So, thank you. And thank you again. I feel like a lucky girl.
I will be back soon (with pictures for the Poblet), but for right now, I still need a little more time away to see if the direction I'm taking is sustainable, before giving some of my attention back to Random Gestures.
Sunday, July 11, 2004
birthday thoughts, from a deconstructed perspective
I never thought I'd make it here. Thirty-five. Actually, no, I think I always knew I would but the thought of it is caught between that pact I made in high school that we'd kill ourselves when we started to wrinkle and the realization that, in all honestly, I still feel and think and want like I'm 17. And, like seventeen, I still have no idea what direction to go. Even when I found out about the cancer, it never occurred to me that it would be the end of me. I don't know why I felt that way either, I just didn't.I never grew up knowing what I wanted to be, where I wanted to go, who I wanted to love, who I wanted to be. There was no 'in five years I will... and so here's where I need to go'. In not having any idea, I ended up doing nothing. No college, no university, no career. Not because I wasn't smart enough or because it wasn't doable, but because I just had this feeling, this understanding, that I was meant for something. Meant for something.
I probably could blame part of that on my parents, growing up in that 'blame' generation. To be honest, though, my belief in myself has always been strong but somehow, just not strong enough to choose a path. If I'd had any idea, ever, what path I wanted to choose, that is or in the absence of some conviction, someone to advise me in choosing one.
I've done some great things. I've done more with my life and my time I think than most of the people I graduated with. I think that if I were to drop dead tomorrow, my last thought would be, "but, MAN, I did some great shit". But, still, in the end, here I am - watching 35 tick over on the clock beside my bed - and I think, so when, exactly, will I know?
What if this inner conviction has been complete shit all these years?
And what do I have to show for these years of waiting for whatever the hell 'it' is?
Because, right here, right now, all I can tell you is this life I have is at a crossroads and not a particularly good one at that. That may be partly due to losing the dog and partly due to the fact that I've never given much thought to my day to day life and somehow that has put me into an uncomfortable situation. One, frankly, I don't have the energy to fix. But I have to. At least, as an adult, I'm pretty sure I have to. So, the things that have happened over the last two years have brought me to this place.
I think the truest thing I have ever heard in my life I found in a fortune cookie years ago. I carry it around in my wallet to this day. Oh. At least I thought I did. To the best of my recollection it said, "Your problem is not in a lack of talent or a lack of ability but in a lack of ambition."
Tis true. There's been nothing in all these years that 'fired me up'. So, here I am, at thirty-five with another job I've come to dread, limited options for other jobs, a condo I love, a cat that is endlessly amusing (today, baked on catnip and lounging on my lap, he discovered my belly button ring - which he promptly wrapped his lips around and tried to rip out - no, no, I'm fine, it'll heal - eventually) although restrictive, a long-term plan - for the first time in my life - that I even have an idea of how to get to and, since the cancer, an internal life that is far richer than the one I stopped living two years ago.
If the purpose of what I have here is to have 'fun', well, I'm not having it. If it's to make a shitload of money, well, I gave that up when I got sick in favor of giving myself time to recover. Which, at this point, I'm not so sure I ever did. Some good friends. Who all have lives of their own and limited time for me. Depression, which the drugs don't seem to be helping coupled with my fear of changing to yet another one and struggling through the side effects, (which, if you were around for that, still pisses me off - for the record). There are good things, I am happy with my home, I love that there are people I love in my life, I can do whatever I want, I feel a certain amount of contentment. I have never had anyone to catch me and I've done a grand job of making it this far alone. I'm inordinately proud of that. Unfortunately, part of that contentment is tied into my work life. Which right now - not so good.
I know one thing - that if I had chosen the paths before me earlier in life, I would be in no different position that I am now. Except those paths would affect more than me, there would be someone else there. That I'm thankful for.
I think of someone at work who always says, 'Just a little guy, not out to hurt anyone.' I always laugh at that, but it makes me think - if I think of myself the same way - I've never wanted to hurt anyone and here I am, doing it. I'm hurting myself. And that's just as cruel and unfair as anything else.
And so I lay here on my birthday, and I think, wow, fuck, what the hell am I doing here? At this crossroad, do I go left or do I go right?
This makes me think of some Dean Koontz 'Book of Counted Sorrows' thing....
one day, walking, I awaken,
amazed to see where I have come,
where I'm going, where I'm from.
This is not the path I thought,
This is not the place I sought,
This is not the dream I bought.
just a fever of fate I've caught.
I'll change highways in a while,
At the crossroads, one more mile.
My path is lit by my own fire.
I'm going only where I desire.
On the road that I have taken,
one day, walking, I awaken.
One day, walking, I awaken,
on the road that I have taken.
And, birthday or no, it's time I figured it out, don't you think?
Wednesday, July 07, 2004
Deconstruction
Hi there. You may be noticing that everything's mostly gone. The term "mostly gone" will also apply to me for a little while.It may be only for a day, a week, a month - I wish I could tell you, but I'm not really sure myself. My only presence here will be in comments other places and additions periodically to the writey bits in the Tombs, either of old things I'd like to keep or completely new additions. I will, however, tag it as updated there on the left. I will most likely also update the lists over there to the right.
I wish that I could explain this part to you, but I can't - the best I can do is this: there are many things I am willing to share and many things I will tell you, but the really truly important things, the things that are at the core of me - I won't. And right now, some of those important things need a little care and attention of their own. There are some difficult choices I need to make and those choices are mine and mine alone. That cannot be done on the internet, and while it's being done, I can't put myself here in any real way.
And if I can't do it in a real way, I don't want to be doing it at all. It's not fair to me and I don't feel it's very fair to you. I'm honored and touched in many ways by everyone that comes here and it is a little heartbreaking for me to just fuck off like this, so I hope that you will wait for me to come back.
I'm sorry that I can't be any clearer than that. If you would like me to let you know when the dust has settled, please email me using the link on the left. If you would like me to email when I update the Tombs, I can also do that too - just indicate that when you write.
Nothing to worry about. It's just a little thing I like to think of as 'deconstruction time' and I will be back when the rebuilding is complete.
Much love,
Jen
I Believe
I still believe in the resilience of the human heart and the essential value of loveI believe that connections between people can be made in a moment
And that the spirits which inhabit us sometimes touch
I still believe that the value received far outweighs the price that must be paid
I still believe in faeries and werewolves and things that go bump in the night
I believe that monsters can come home grinning behind the face of someone you love
For I understand that the monster lives within us
But I still believe that living in fear of what is within us is not living at all
I still believe that I can change the world
I believe that the world can change me and that may not be a bad thing
If only I'm willing to see which is the best way to go
But I still believe that all the choices are mine, alone
I still believe that gentleness, kindness and respect will endure, if we only let it
I believe that I can make or destroy someone else's day
Because the choice to put aside what I'm feeling for a moment is mine
And I still believe that we can only benefit by making the effort to do so
I still believe that solitude is valid
I believe that self-reflection is an imperative
That it's okay to look back and try to understand, as long as you don't stare
I still believe that looking back is as important as looking forward
I still believe in you
And I still believe in me
Tuesday, July 06, 2004
what're the odds?
lyric at post:
..people like us we never learn,
the glass is darker on the other side
i could lose myself in your pale blue eyes..color>
how to make my day
In the latest of what I've decided will be a series...Live in a way earlier time zone so that wonderful AIM message is sitting patiently rightthere when I sit down with my cup of coffee first thing in the morning - before I've even managed to get in the shower.
Cause although I am not alert in the morning and have forgotten the wording by the time I get to work, it's still a fan-fucking-tabulous thing to wake up to.
Then, leave a note like this on your website...
How lucky am I? Go away for a weekend, never lift a finger, and come home to a brand new ME! With all thanks, kudos, credit, and curtsies to the lovely and multi-talented Jen,too, I have a whole new space that looks EXACTLY like I wanted it to...clean, simple, and much improved. She managed to translate the vision in my head without a hitch and I LOVE it! Hope it looks good to the rest of the world, but speaking from what really matters...to me, it's absolutely perfect!
But, no more, silly girl. The offer wouldn't have been made if it weren't sincere (the 100 things, remember?) I'm happy that you're happy. But still... you made my day.
lyric at post:
..been a year since I touched your body,
all my visions are wearing thin..color>
Monday, July 05, 2004
how to confuse me
T2 has this funny way of talking and in the mornings he always comes by and says, "Jen, hi, good morning.", with just enough space that you automatically try to answer the 'hi' while he's already starting the 'good morning'. This never fails to completely derail any answer I could possibly have. I know it's morning and we all know I'm not so perky and alert then but man, it's just one too many greetings, too close together for me.It's equally as bad when I'm on the phone with him as he does the same thing there, "Fine, see ya later, m'bye."
Thankfully, this 'confuse jen' fun and goodness has never overlapped into any of our other exchanges (which are many as I spend most of my day in his office).
Until just right now.
Still working, yes I am. I had more tweaking on Jen,also's site to get it all peachy perfect and that happily accomplished I got a little distracted by erm, other things and so am just finishing up the work I brought home. With Calgary being close to a million people and a million more visitors during Stampede, typically nothing gets done here for ten days except a lot o' drinking and endless 'schmoozing' so there is tons of work I've got to get done before Friday.
Which, incidentally, begins at 7 am with my friend Bob Jr's traditional tailgate breakfast along the parade (which I have never actually seen) route followed by something called 'Shots With Wally' (don't ask, it'd give you nightmares). Being an international company it's a bit hard to explain Stampede, free alcohol breakfasts and why everyone sounds anywhere from giddy to pissed to completely hammered by noon unless you've been here to experience it.
It's all about the free stuff, which makes up for the fact that it is 'city/corporate policy' that all employees/everyone and their dog wear cowboy shirts, jeans and cowboy boots from dawn (6 am) to dusk (10 pm) in 35 degree heat while the tourists get to wear shorts and things that look so lovely and cool.
But I digress.
I had a point here somewhere, now where did I *put* it? Dammit.
Oh yeah. Email invite in my inbox delivered 9 pm tonight to.... Jen's '35 Forever' Lunch. Signed Thank you. Goodnight. Goodbye.
It's infected his writing skills too. Oh, clarity, don't desert me now.
Sunday, July 04, 2004
people say the darndest things, when it's free
We have this free classifieds section in our local free weekly entertainment paper called, "I Saw You/Soapbox", which I read faithfully every week. Not because I think someone is going to leave an advert saying, "I cannot live without that absolutely fabulously gorgeous woman I saw standing on a balcony in the rain wearing boxer shorts and holding a struggling cat" or anything, but because it's inevitably the same yahoos who post in it every week. Which is fine, if they don't own phones or computers. They are sometimes extremely amusing though and I feel like I've gotten to know them over the last few months.Every once in a while, there is just a shining gem or three in there for the admirin'.
To my liver: I'm so very sorry, but just think; we have a month to rest before Stampede starts.
This I understand, as I too have felt the need to apologize to different parts of my body at one time or another. It just never occurred to me that I should do it in the paper. I figure my body can hear me just fine from here.
Any female want to have a man slave?
Can you send pictures? Is there a fee? Do you do windows?
Oprah's gonna save the world... Hallelujah.. Praise the Lord!
And only the lord knows which show prompted that. I'm assuming it's sarcasm, but you just really never know.
tan that hide, l'il cowpoke
As I stopped off yesterday and paid an astronomical amount of money for fake and baking I actually did put a little thought into the rationale behind aging myself prematurely for vanity.No, really, I did.
Back when I was 22 after surgery number, I dunno, 4 or something, which involved a large amount of stitching, someone mentioned that tanning would help to fade the scarring. I'd like to think it was an official 'doctor observation' but God knows it could have been someone passing on the street but it was an idea I happily seized upon. Being one of those pale and delicate (*snort*) blondes I've never been much for laying about in the hot sun. Besides making you all sticky and well, hot - it bores me.
In Mexico a couple of years ago I spent an entire week beside the pool. By the time I got home most of my fine blonde hair had succumbed and was breaking off willy-nilly and I had a wonderful tan (for 5 days) except for that pasty white book-shaped area of my chest and chin.
Anyways, from 22 to 32 I tanned in one of those beds twice a week as the scars weren't someplace I could get sun without being constantly arrested. Did it fade the scars? No way to know, really, is there? Although, in all fairness, I did have the exact same surgery again almost two years ago and at this point the scars are at roughly the point they were after 10 years of tanning. It did fade my tattoos, that I know. Did it remove the need to use foundation to even out those rosy English cheeks? Yes it did. Did it make me feel good? Yes it did. Was it soothing and stress-relieving? Yes it was. Do I think it's marginally safer than laying about in the nasty, ever more toxic sun? Yes I do.
Did it age me? I don't honestly know. What I do know is most people think I'm 28. So, if I hadn't tanned for 10 years and been a smoker for 23, I think I would look roughly er, 12.
So, for the sake of the good effects and in complete and utter denial of the bad, I'm off for a tan.
Saturday, July 03, 2004
that shower-fresh feeling
The thing about the rain here is that briefly, when it's over, the dust is finally drowned into submission for a little while. This feeling must be enjoyed directly on the skin rather than vicariously through the windows.Which means I have to go outside.
Not that there's anything wrong with that, mind you, but I'm just out of bed and firmly planted in front of your lovely faces.
Alright, one more cup of coffee whilst I wait for the 'one song you must learn before going to Australia' to download. T3 could be yanking pretty hard on my leg but hey, I'm always up for hearing new things. Something called Gangajang by 'Sounds of Then'. (edit - correction - it's actually Sounds of Then by Gangajang. thanks Sal.) I'm sure that Gangajang means something, possibly something not understandable to me but after my lesson in nicknaming (ie: why is Barry someone you call Bazza) I can wait before asking that question.
And the humidity we'd breathe,
We'd watch the lightning crack over canefields
Laugh and think, this is Australia.
Then, I'm off to buy some color for my pasty white skin (tan) and grocery shop, then home again to finish up that template I'm doing for Jen,also.
Let's just hope I don't lose her entire blog. (just kidding Jen - hee hee)
Friday, July 02, 2004
98...99...100! Ready or Not, Here I Come!
I think I *have* gotten to tag someone else! Yay! Someone else gets to be IT! I only hope it's not one of you guys.So last year, I was going to Wyoming to visit one of the internet peoples (you've seen her - in the comments - Chris) but because Billy wanted to go to Seattle, I gave in and that's where we went. Then, this year, Tony:there and I were going to go to Wyoming but he decided he wanted to go to California. So I gave in.
So, new Jen who gives in to NO MAN NOR BEAST is going to Wyoming.
*yawn* Sleepy... says:-- they are going crazy here LOL.....planning all sorts of stuff
Jen says:--oh my.
*yawn* Sleepy... says:-- you've just been adopted....ally is calling you aunt jennifer
Aren't they the cutest? I get a birthday cake too. *blush*
T3 called from Nunavut. Which would be, uh, the Arctic. Or Canada's version of it anyways. I forget how damn big Canada is. Here's a map. I'm the blue dot, Chris is the green dot (that's a 14 hour drive). The red dot is roundabout where Riley Dog is and erm, Nunavut. Yeah, don't know where exactly he is, up there. Didn't ask. I'm bad that way.
I was trying to explain Devil's Tower to him but he's never seen Close Encounters of the Third Kind so the mashed potato scene makes no sense. Honestly, this is terrible but the best I could come up with was that it was the Ayer's Rock of the US. (I know, I know, I'm sorry).
Ahh, but back to Yellowstone. How cool is that?
Off to play in the rain.
but your honor, it was the silent Jedi mind trick
I was just in the shower (hush, Pob) conditioning my hair and wondering why exactly I need 'healthy shine' conditioner, or rather, why in our world do we need to market things based on the understanding that we do not have healthy shiny hair but can 'fake it'.When, as usual on a daily basis lately, I look at all hair that comes off/out and lays there in my hand. Now, I'm not going bald or anything it's just something I notice. Mostly cause I actually have hair. And it's brown. So it stands out against that paley skin I have.
The strange thing about having a blonde brushcut is that whatever hair I shed (and don't we shed tons normally everyday?) I don't see. It's not stuck in the drains or the sink or on the brush. But, now, having grown it for six months and dyeing it (along with most of the bathroom) brown, suddenly there's hair everywhere. I hate that.
At least I can be comforted knowing that I will never outstrip the cat's record as he still spontaneously drops a quarter of his hair everytime he gets stressed out. Which is daily.
Speaking of his bad self, I woke up at 6 am with the covers all bunched up over my head and opened my eyes to his. Two inches away from me, staring intently. How long he'd been *rightthere* is something I'm refusing to wonder about but it is a bit creepy, you have to admit.
I think he was trying to place thoughts into my head. Thank god for now it seems only to be 'get the fuck up and feeeeeeed me'. But if it begins to work, the permutations are endless. And endlessly frightening.
Has anyone ever actually used the 'my cat told me to do it' defense? There was that dog, Sam, but I don't recall any cats. (was that David Berkowitz? Can't be bothered to look.)
Regardless, I can't imagine a dog ever telling you to go out and kill people, unless it's the mailman but somehow, it seems entirely possible that a cat would. Is that discrimination?
11 more days
Until my birthday.PB had a post a couple months ago about his birthday and I wrote a draft which I never posted and honestly, I'm feeling battered enough right now to post it. Partly, too, to be honest, this has a little bit to do with my boundaries that I've changed lately which may be why I'm posting it now. So, basically, it's a rant. Feel free to completely ignore it. At your peril (I'm kidding). And then, I'll post something else I feel too, which is a little less bruised, that I wrote a while ago, but somehow again seems appropriate. For god's sake, we're not expecting me to be consistent. Are we? Are we?
climbing aboard the birthday bus
Since PornyBoy is over there whining about his upcoming birthday and shamelessly soliciting gifts I have decided that I too, am jumping onto that particular bandwagon. *hopping like a little bunny*I've always been that person who remembers everyone's birthdays. I love birthdays. They make me happy. If you have a birthday, chances are it's written in my little daytimer and I'm calling you. Right on the day. Every year. Even people I haven't seen in 10 years. Like Tyson, who's somewhere out there, maybe in a mental institution from what I hear - but every year I remember him fondly on his birthday. And the last time I saw him was 1993.
Except, eventually, other people's sheer apathy just wears you down. One year you wake up and all there's left in the Happy Birthday chest is a little nub of mildewy candy colored bone laying forlornly among the ashes of all the presents you never got.
You would think with all the goodwill I'm sending out into the world at least a percentage of it would come back to me. But, barely anyone ever remembers mine. No one calls. My brother, well meaning in all respects, usually phones a week early or a week late. I was 17 before anyone bothered to bake me a cake. And frankly, that's just not fucking good enough anymore.
Over the last two years I've been weaning myself down to only the people who remember mine. It's pretty easy. I open the daytimer and watch those birthdays just whoosh right on by. It was Tony:here's birthday last week. I didn't call. In fact I called the day before, left a message and didn't even mention it. And with all these birthdays streaking by, even though 99% of those people have never ever called me on my birthday, you can bet your bottom dollar that at least one of them will say something to me. "You never called for my birthday."
Exactly.
Here's the deal. This year, July 12th, to be exact, will be birthday no one ever remembers Number 35.
Yes. 35.
And I'm not going to mention it again. Just this once.
Now, I'm not asking for gifts, although that would be an absolutely lovely suprise.
All I'm asking is that someone actually remembers.
....and then on to the more nicer one....
I Believe
I still believe in the resilience of the human heart and the essential value of loveI believe that connections between people can be made in a moment
And that the spirits which inhabit us sometimes touch
I still believe that the value received far outweighs the price that must be paid
I still believe in faeries and werewolves and things that go bump in the night
I believe that monsters can come home grinning behind the face of someone you love
For I understand that the monster lives within us
But I still believe that living in fear of what is within us is not living at all
I still believe that I can change the world
I believe that the world can change me and that may not be a bad thing
If only I'm willing to see which is the best way to go
But I still believe that all the choices are mine, alone
I still believe that gentleness, kindness and respect will endure, if we only let it
I believe that I can make or destroy someone else's day
Because the choice to put aside what I'm feeling for a moment is mine
And I still believe that we can only benefit by making the effort to do so
I still believe that solitude is valid
I believe that self-reflection is an imperative
That it's okay to look back and try to understand, as long as you don't stare
I still believe that looking back is as important as looking forward
I still believe in you
And I still believe in me
Thursday, July 01, 2004
Canada Day Part Deux. In the rain.
I told Wade to meet me at Mountain Equipment Coop so I could buy some shorts. Wade's the 'word play' guy so when I tell him I'll be in the 'short section' his response is, of course, "But, Jen, you're actually pretty tall for a girl". I get down there and it turns out the bastards are closed today so I scooted across the road to the er... other place and got some sandals.$120 sandals. I've never paid more than $40 for a pair of shoes in my life.
Ohh, but they're bee-yoo-ti-ful. Guaranteed for life, resole-able and good for rainforests, africa and mountains. I wore them out of the store. There's some sort of one-piece design that means you sort of yank on it at different areas to tighten others and the one the guy adjusted for me was perfect but I need a little more practice cause when I got home I realized that choking noise I heard in the background all afternoon was actually my other big toe strangling.
Maybe I can take the sales guy with me.
Oh, and I found the best backpack there for about 1/2 the price as the one I was looking at in MEC. Bonus! Helps to ease the pain of the expensive sandals, I s'pose.
Wade and I wandered through the park but at some point noticed that there was 'weather' coming. The good thing about the prairies is that you can see it coming from 100 miles away so we went for lunch and then scooted across to the place I want to have the Christmas party for a couple of beer. By that time it was raining pretty hard so we waited for it to pass and then headed home.
I breached (broached? Isn't breach something whales do? I can't be arsed to look it up but I think I meant broached) the subject of him leaving an audio post for you guys but actually having him do it would be something that will need to be worked up to in baby steps.
I stopped at the used book store on the way home and now am quite happily ensconsed in my favorite chair with the cat on my lap, having had a wonderful day which goes a very long way to putting me back on track. Maybe not the *right* track, but a better track all the same.
Having felt the last couple of weeks like I'm being sucked under and either completely insane or just not having people see anything but ...I don't even know what they're seeing .. when they look at me, themselves? I dunno. Regardless, I've very much needed to have different reflections of myself explained to me or reinforced or something. So, thank you to Wade and to those of you I asked to do that. I can't really explain how much it helps but it allows me to remember myself and once again, stand firm and not allow other people and their stress to continue to affect who I am.
Remind me to tell you the FBI story later.
Canada Day
Calgary is 135 years old today. I know how the poor thing feels.I went to bed at 7 pm or something insane like that and slept until 9 this morning. I went into work only long enough yesterday to talk about the 800 years of work that I have to complete next week and to ensure that the T's had discussed my request for clarification of who I should be taking primary direction from and the things that have been going on lately and what they and I could do about it.
We have all been directed to take Friday off so I have four free days, which should help. Although I will have to do some work from home at some point. In direct contravention of my horoscope this morning:
and rather than find someone to spend all day in bed reading a book with me, I'm out to meet Wade to spend the day in Prince's Island Park with 70,000 other people for the Canada Day celebrations. Maybe some shopping.
Wade is nice and normal. Okay, he's not strictly NORMAL but he's not the sort of "normal" I've been dealing with lately. Which frankly I could do without for a while.
So, Happy Canada Day, all.
