Wednesday, October 27, 2004
The Return of Dougie
He likes to come in and visit for a week or so each year.
Follow-up - Interview
Here it is. The second part of the Interview Story.Matt figures 45 minutes to the ferry from his place - it's after rush hour, a Thursday - you know. I have to be there by 1ish and so I'm going to take the 11 am ferry (which is one hour, 35 minutes). I ACTUALLY RESERVE A SPOT ON THE FERRY, something I have never done before in my life and for the privilege of paying, I can arrive up to five minutes before and still have a guaranteed spot..
Knowing my sense of direction is the shits, Matt hi-lites a map route as well as writing down step by step instructions for me. I'm to drop him off at a friends work so we leave the house at 9:30 am.
Out on the main road, Matt says, "Hmm, it looks like the Second Narrows (Steelworker's) bridge is backed up a bit, it may be better for you to go through downtown Vancouver."
We stop at Timmy's so I can get a coffee and bagel while Matt writes totally new directions for me.
At 9:40 I'm on my way.
At 10:30 I've gone four miles. I'm still in North Vancouver.
I call Matt. We decide I should go back and try to catch the alternate ferry by his house which takes me to the island - but lands an hour and 45 minutes north from where my interview is.
I get there at 11:05. The next ferry is 12:30. While on it, Matt calls to inform me that if I'd stayed where I was at 10:30 - I would STILL be there so we've made the right choice. (I may have made the 3 pm ferry but that's seriously doubtful).
I arrive in Nanaimo at 2:15 and drive like a madwoman to the interview - arriving at 4:10 pm.
I leave there at 5:25 pm and head back out to the ferry - the closer one. I arrive at 6:10 pm, in plenty of time for the 7 pm.
Or so I thought.
One of the ferries isn't feeling well and there's some sort of off-island convention. I MAY make the 9 pm. The last sailing of the day. But I have to wait almost three hours to find out.
I turn around.
I drive BACK UP NORTH, catch the 9 pm ferry (which is, shock of shocks, running late) and arrive back at Matt's at 11:45 pm.
I've attached a map below to help y'all with picturing that. The blue is where I should have been going. The purple is where I actually went (with a littler purple line for the ferry I tried for on the way back).
map
The scariest thing is - there are people who live on the island and COMMUTE to Vancouver to work every day. You'd have to be fucking insane to do that.
On second thought, maybe THAT'S what's wrong with Vancouver.
On second second thought, maybe THAT'S who the jumpers were.
HA
Anyways, I wrote the test, we chatted. The lovely woman called this morning to tell me I kicked ass and got 55% (seriously, not many people have gotten that high a score and considering I've never even SEEN the system nor even heard of it until two or three weeks ago - it IS damn good).
Unfortunately, I needed 70% to get the job.
They're testing one more person next Tuesday and she'd like me to call once I'm settled as, unless that person seriously rocks, they're going to hire me as a contractor for the two months they're allowed to and then we'll go from there.
Do I have the job for sure? No. Worth the nightmarish day? Yes. Cause even if it doesn't work out next week, she'll nose around other telecom jobs there for me and that seriously rocks.
And now, I am going back to running around the house screaming. Maybe with a scissors in my hand.
I Am
Packing.Shipping.
Cleaning.
Painting.
Running
around
screaming.
Sunday, October 24, 2004
Not My Home
Flying in tonight and taking the Airporter downtown was strange in that in five days this will no longer be my home. There will be places I will miss a lot and that's starting to sink in a little more.Otherwise, yes, I am home. Cabot has commenced his shrieking. All is well with our little world and so I am going to watch "Lost" because I have taped it and cannot stand the suspense but before I go.....
I have never ear candled before. Ick. Ick, I say. Who knew all that stuff was there in my head?
Down there in picture #2 is the Matt present - a t-shirt from the BadAss Coffee Company. For, although he may not really be a nasty donkey, he is my Certified Bad Ass.
Unless of course if I cannot convince him that "Yer a hoser, eh?" isn't really a cool 'Canadianism' for otherwise he will just be a dead Aussie with knotty hair.
I have more things to do this week than my mind can fathom completing so I am going to go 'way now and get a good night's sleep in what may very well be the last night with my beautiful bed. *sob*
Sweet dreams, all.
Saturday, October 23, 2004
I am no longer the one people stare at in public
OR
Such a Feral Hippie Cutie
I had left it up to Matt if he wanted to tell his friends where we'd been the other day and he made the choice to tell them we'd gone for a facial and manicure. Silly boy.We're at the bike shop surrounded by all these manly men poking notsogentle fun in his direction, until finally one of them hands him an umbrella and dubs him "Mattie Poppins".
Honestly he just sets himself right up. Friend Steve says, "We're going to FrightNight at the PNE tonight, what're your plans, do you want to come?" Without a thought, Matt says, "I think we're staying in to do my hair." Dead silence broken only by me trying desperately and unsuccessfully not to snort from behind my hand.
Off to eat my dinner and watch a movie (we got Bob & Doug - Strange Brew - CLASSIC Canadian movie).
We're ear candling tomorrow (may as well girlie out for the entire weekend) and then I am heading back 'home' to that place I live for a few more days.
Until then, the progression of hair dreading yesterday.
braids to kink it all up
Mr. Fuzzy Head
Dread completion, step one, beeswax and backcombing to 'fake' it until
they have time to bind themselves.
Friday, October 22, 2004
The Longest Possible Distance Between Two Points
I'm sorry, I realize that these two men had a worse day than I ever could have but the simple fact is that in an area of roughly 3 million people, on the day I had a JOB INTERVIEW WHICH I COULD ONLY GET TO BY USING ONE OF THESE TWO BRIDGES, the stupid motherfuckers decide to off themselves.They're both fine, more's the pity, but it can't be a good feeling to have that many people loathe you - one of Matt's friends, who should have been at work at 8:30 - finally got there at 2:30, because he couldn't even turn around to go home. And don't even get me started on what I think of jumpers during rush hour and their desire to actually kill themselves as opposed to a little attention grabbing.
I mean, c'mon, don't even bother to insult my intelligence by implying that wasn't totally planned. Seriously.
What normally would have taken two ferry rides and a round trip total of 8 hours, yesterday cost me four missed ferries, 250 miles of extra driving and a grand total of 14 hours. At a job interview I was exactly THREE POINT FIVE hours late for.
I'll come back and tell you all about it some other time but I shall just leave you with that lingering feeling of awe at the serendipity of my life until I can do so.
And a little bit of jealousy that I may have just had the BEST EXCUSE EVER for being late.
But, I have a boy with tiny little braids all over his head (his hairs a bit fine for dreads so we're trying to kink it up a little for better traction) sitting on the couch drinking a smoothie while I look at him and think, "wow, that's girlie, if I just hadn't had sex with him twice looking like that, I'd think there was something wrong with him." HA. *snort* *guffaw* I kill me.
Anyways, have to get the braids out as I am SO not going to the spa with him looking like that.
There will be pictures later too. Be afraid. Be very afraid.
Tuesday, October 19, 2004
I thought I should include the picture that 'started' that whole thing.
Meet Mr. SweatySweat.
Acceptance, some thoughts
Alright, so if you haven't guessed by now - I'm going away on a plane tomorrow. For a job interview, a spa day, a hair dreading and some other fun stress relieving things I shall not mention.I may blog from Mattie's or I may not - I may post a picture of the dreadlocked boy so you can all see how bad my styling skills are. Heehee. So, just pretend that I am gone until Monday. And since I have 8 million things still to do before leaving tomorrow, I cannot stay and talk to you. I sorry. But here's the post I promised. Well, one of them anyways. Take care, all.
I've been thinking about acceptance the last few days. What we accept in those around us. What we expect from those we care about.
Having lately worked with people who had absolutely no understanding of how I can put up what they consider to be an unattractive picture of M2 that he's emailed or be okay with him not wanting to wash his hair or dread it is something they used to pick on me for.
T2 would never send a 'girl' he liked what he considered to be an unattractive picture.
JB could never be with anyone who didn't wash their hair every day.
SD would never date anyone without knowing their salary.
PR would never look twice at someone unless she knew everyone else was looking at him too.
I wonder what happened to us all along the way.
If you are the perfect person who only does what you think the other person wants, so that they love you or stay with you or like you - rather than being yourself - then what happens when inevitably you ARE yourself?
And who do they love, then? If it's not you then what's the point?
I remember a line in a book (Suicide Blonde, Darcy Stenke) that went “Once you see your lover doing something you cannot talk to them about, then that is the end of the relationship."
I'm not saying that I haven't made an effort to act like a lady / normal human being / someone I'm not - but never - not in 15 years, in not one single case - has anyone I've ever done that around as a date lasted more than two weeks.
Just because I don’t believe in it or am unable to sustain it, it doesn't mean I don' t try once in a while. Mostly because I've only ever met two or three men who would actually accept me for the person I am. Men who think the person I am is interesting and cool and fascinating. But, that's rare and sometimes, it's nice to not be alone. Sometimes, you start to think that you could actually just subdue your self for a little while if that will get you what you want.
But, it never gets you what you want. Not if you want love and self-respect and happiness. ‘Alone’ is a matter of definition. I would rather be alone with the self that’s real than surrounded by people who have no idea who I am.
I know for a fact that a couple of the guys I worked for are men whom their wives have never actually met. Or met only briefly. And, really, they're not bad guys. In fact, I absolutely adore a couple of them.
But, which is the real one? Is it at-home guy? Is it the guy I know? Who? Which one? And then, that leads me to wonder if I even want to be friends with someone when I know that about them.
Things that are perfectly acceptable in our friends, whom sometimes we love more than anyone else, suddenly become unacceptable things in those we date. Is that because we perceive them as a reflection of ourselves? "Ew, look at what he's wearing / doing / saying - Jen, what is wrong with you? He's your boyfriend, why can't you get him to....."
I have that picture of M2 up because I like it. Because it's M2, exactly M2, and nothing else.
He is who he is. Which is why I like him. I am who I am. Which is why he likes me. Simple as that. I don't care what he does, what he says, what he wears, how old he is, what *you* think. In fact, he can do whatever the hell he wants - chances are I'll be standing right beside him, thinking he's fabulous.
That doesn't mean I LIKE the ugly pictures he has of ME. But it also doesn't mean I'm going to search them out and destroy them when he's not looking. I've seen friends do that. It's frightening and sad all at the same time. If I look at those pictures and make an effort to see what *he* sees, then how can I hate them? Because *I* think they're ugly? I should really get over that.
Beauty is in the eye of the beholder. Something is beautiful only because someone else sees it as being beautiful. I could go on but what it comes down to is that I have no right to tell anyone what they should think is beautiful and no one on this earth has the right to tell me that. Finito. End. That's it, there's really no other room for debate. If you think something is ugly and I think something is beautiful, then so be it. I don't care what *you* think. I care about what *I* think.
I tried to explain to JB that I thought that she'd meet someone eventually where those things didn't matter. She was genuinely appalled so, somehow, I don't think she ever will. And it’s not because she’s ‘young’. She’s 29, three years older than M2. It’s because she will always be more concerned about what other people, even complete strangers, think than what she herself feels.
Which is really sad because that trust and that freedom to be exactly who you are is the single most precious thing you can give someone. Or get from someone.
I know this because I have been blessed to experience it, however briefly, more than once. So, I know how it feels. I know it's possible. I know I'll never settle for anything less.
But, hang five, I don’t want to offend anyone so I’m off to find a boyfriend who is a outwardly polite nicely groomed politically acceptable paragon of pleasing appearance with a neat, freshly washed coiffure who publicly and obviously loves his non-tattooed politically correct girlfriend who speaks in a soft humble tone and wears twinsets.
It doesn’t really matter if those twinsets happen to cover the bruises he inflicts when no one can see him.
And suddenly I realize, unacceptable hair on a boyfriend who sends an email at midnight that ends with “I’ll see you in my dreams.” Oh my god. What the hell was I thinking? We should kill him before he infects the others.
Monday, October 18, 2004
Plotted, stacked, packed
At least partially. But because I am laying on the floor and this is hard on my back you will not be getting pictures.Went to see LFD today - all tests back and good and wonderful. He's upset though, that I'm leaving. Got up and threw his arms around me. I may even have seen him tearing up. He's so cute.
Interview confirmed, ferry reservation made, paint to cover the hair dye klutzy Jen flings about in the bathroom purchased. I stopped for what may be my final coffee at BadAss, picked up a giftie or three for M2 and slogged through the 3 cm of snow home again.
Our spa is Le Petit and we now have... well, here, cut and paste so I do not have to type.
he:Oh yeah, what was the name of the facial and manicure that I would be booking for the lovely lady?
(not sure who he was talking about but I answered him anyways)
me: You'll have to ask them cause the first one says they tailor it (BKamins is a type of product)so that would make it the same as the second one? Do not know the difference. Tell them I'm old with combination skin so losing the first five layers of skin to look 5 years younger would be nice. (kay, maybe skip that last bit).
he: OK, so we are booked into the spa on Friday starting at 12:15. I tried for around ten, but that would have meant we would have a 1 hour break between facial and manicure (I can't beleive the number of times I have said facial/manicure today, next thing you know I'll be ordering lattes and saying "oh my god" with a lisp) which I figured wouldn't be so good/relaxing. With the 12:15 start, we are doing them back to back.
No offense intended to those who drink lattes and talk with a lisp (actually on second thought - I order chai lattes and have a slight 'ch' problem. he's a crafty one, isn't he?)
Back hurting. Going away now. Cheers.
Brief
M2 has just sent me the dimensions of Betsy (the car) in the hopes that I can compact my life down enough to fit in there as opposed to paying $380 I can't afford to rent the minivan. Plus the $100 I was going to ship UPS. But, even if I ship $300 worth of stuff and get the rest in the car - that's still a $180 savings.Of course, he thinks in metres, so I have to convert to inches first. And because I cannot sleep, I have plotted the dimensions in tape on the living room carpet, measured the different sizes of containers and have just (very scientifically) plotted the best way to pack it in. Theoretically. I now actually have to pack and stack and then start all over again because I'm sure more stuff has to go.
Computers, cats and plants are big space wasters, however necessary they may be.
I have searched and chosen the spa and picked the treatments we're getting but will come back with that tomorrow when all my chores and errands are done. Seems a bit silly to let M2 spend $200 on something as frivolous as a day-spa but a) it's my 'reward' for quitting smoking and b) the stress relief will be priceless at this point and c) what sort of fool would I be to say, "Nooo, Mattie, I'd much rather have you give me that money so I can ship predominantly useless bits of paper and those shirts I haven't worn in 7 years to the island that will have to be thrown out six months from now anyways."
And so, now come the harder choices.
Sunday, October 17, 2004
Ty-erd
Oh god, Vanessa, I do not know. I am not even contemplating the massive messy fuckup-ed-ness of this portion of my life until the fuckwit calls tomorrow.Although I only sold about 40% of my stuff (based on the amount of boxes I had left when the rest of it was packed up), and the rest had to be hauled home because the Women In Need shoppy wasn't open (or they knew it was me and did not want to answer the phone) I am now $300 "richer" than I was before two days spent in a freezing cold garage in subzero temperatures selling off all that I own and sitting there mostly alone. I say mostly alone because in a total of 12 hours - only about 15 people came in.
One point two five people an hour. Each spending roughly 20 bucks.
You figure these things out when you have all that time on your hands.
Today, it was -9 when I left the house and -5 and snowing for most of the day.
And although I feel as unproductive as all get-the-hell-out, I suppose it was worth it.
And many thanks to Philly (as I was frantically calling people at 11 am and begging for a space heater on Saturday morning about the time I could no longer feel my feet) for her suggestion to run home quickly, poke some holes in a couple potatoes, zap them in the microwave and put them in my pockets. Yeah, thaaaaaaanks.
Shari came through with (among other lifesaving and big-hearted things) a space heater about 3 pm but in the interim I had gone home and unpacked a couple boxes to pick up a heating pad. Which I then sat on most of the day, alternating with stuffing it up my shirt and holding it over my face.
Last night my face started to hurt. I think it's wind chapped or frost-nipped or just plain angry with me.
Whatever. It's just going to have to get over it.
Preferably before I go to bed. In five minutes.
And just to illustrate a point. Of some sort, because I'm not sure what point I'm trying to make but I'm sure I will come up with one before I'm done typing - - - the lovely Amber (from Makeshift Daisy, which I am too tired to put here as a link but is over there in the list) came by to meet me yesterday, bearing gifts.
Which makes her even more fabulous then I was previously certain of.
Remarking that I was off to a hot bath prompted her to say something like (I was tired and may not have been even making sense at that point) "And you can use one of those lovely bath bombs that are in your bathrooom." Which frankly was a fabulous idea because where I am going I do not have a bath-tub.
But, just for a second there, my mind went completely blank except for the voice screaming "USE THEM? USE THEM? ARE YOU MAD? DANGER, DANGER, WILL ROBINSON."
Ahhh, my point, there it is - the reason I have so many things is because I buy wonderful things for myself and never use them. Because then they would be gone, you see. They would be gone and there would no longer be the possibility of utilizing their loveliness. Some of those bath bombs, I've had for five years. I should be throwing birthday parties.
Don't even get me started on the candles. It can be pointed out, and I'm sure someone will, that - in the case of some of my things, like the candles - by not using them I have now had to sell them and therefore have forever lost out on the pleasure they were created for, as well as the money I have spent on them.
I've never pretended to be rational.
I did however, use one of them last night. And it barely caused any mental anguish at all. Who knew?
Saturday, October 16, 2004
How far exactly do you think your head is up your ass?
1 BR 655 sf, 3 appls, lrg deck, u/g prkg stall. $700 + util. *******
First - notice anything strange about the bolded areas? Anyone looking to live in the NORTHWEST will find me, but since I live in the SOUTHWEST it's not going to do a fuck of a lot of good.
Second - we discussed $800 to drop to $750 if we had to. I'm not renting this place for $700, paying his fee as well as $350 for the fucking mortgage.
So maybe on Friday when I said 'can you read the ad to me?' and you rattled it off the top of your head cause you couldn't find it, this was the wrong thing to do? Ya think?
Is the universe telling me to sell? Or is this it's way of saving me money? Cause I ain't paying for that ad.
I'm sure it's crossed all of your minds at some point that I have to be making some of this stuff up because things like this don't happen to people, right? Actually, they don't. Everyone else is safe because THEY ALL HAPPEN TO ME.
Otherwise, about half of my stuff went in the garage sale, even though it was freezing cold. Hopefully tomorrow will go well, even though it is now snowing. I'd give you more detail but I am so tired that if I sit down I will fall asleep. Since I have no desk chair - right now I'm standing.
Friday, October 15, 2004
The Obvious
We've been over that bit about how I always miss the obvious right?On my way to gleefully rack up prescriptions on my remaining two weeks of medical benefits from that place I used to work, I was chatting with Shari on the phone. Detail oriented my girl is and so she asks if I'm sure there's not some sort of limit on how much stuff I can actually pick up. A phone call to the insurance company later....
"What do you *mean* you won't pay for 11 months of birth control, seven months of Wellbutrin and two years of the bleaching cream I need for those freaky raccoon patches on my face? What?"
Unfortunately they all have a point - it's just good business sense to limit prescriptions to a three month supply, but REALLY, I could have used the break.
And thanks to Shari and her sharp common sense mind, I have just *not* spent $350 I don't have and that I wouldn't have been reimbursed for.
I know, I know, sometimes y'all wonder how I make it four blocks without being hit by a car and you shudder in abject terror at the thought that I think I can travel around the world alone ... it's fun to watch though, innit?
My New Favorite Word
I keep looking for things. You know, the 'ol, "Damn, I really need that cowbell/ broken frying pan / burnt out light bulb, and I *knew* I'd need it as soon as I threw it out" sort of thing. Except, then I realize that, whatever it is, I'm probably selling it, so I bloody well better get used to being without it right now.After the hair dreading (I have't forgotten that promised post, in fact I wrote it already! HA!!) I've been informed that I get to collect my 'winnings' for quitting smoking next week. Which has been pretty easy actually, even with all the stress. It's been made easier - I am quite sure - by the desire to never ever AGAIN be in the position to say, in regards to my boyfriend "I have been smoking as long as you have been alive."
ANYHOO, what's the prize? The winnings? The deal? A full on facial and massage at a spa. For both of us. I briefly considered a pedicure but my feet are inherently cute anyways and M2's, due to the fact that Aussies seem to have some sort of 'thing' about not wearing shoes, are far beyond the abilities of this world to ever resemble feet again.
(not that I wouldn't go shoeless if I could)
These young 'uns, they need to learn to appreciate the finer things in life and if I must sacrifice to teach this particular one, well, then, sacrifice I shall.
To add to the growing list of (these are a bunch of seperate posts) Cabot the six toed street cat has some slight ISSUES, he's taken to jumping up on my lap when I'm at the computer. Apart from the fact that my chair will be sold tomorrow and this is the last day *that'll* happen, he invariably MISSES when he jumps. Even with the 'sizing up' and measuring he takes the time to do before leaping. Misses my lap, misses the chair, misses the bed. Shouldn't cats with opposable thumbs have better balance than most?
Currently, he is sitting on aforementioned lap and repeatedly bobbing his head to jam my nipple into his eye. It's creepy. And, no I have no idea why the hell he'd be doing something like that, but it's going to stop right now.
I am off to run millions of hundreds of errands before coming home to hook up with Shari to start the setting up and the posting of signs.
One of the things I did this morning was decide that I will not leave up my shelving - partly because the drywall barely holds them so inevitably they will be torn out of the wall by some freaky tenant and partly because I have about four ounces of matching paint that should be put to good use. I wandered over to the Super 'we have every fricking thing' Drug Mart and picked up some sandpaper, scraper/flat/applying thingy, a couple cheapie paintbrushes and some .... spackle.
I love that word. I can't stop saying it.
Spackle. Spackle. Spackle. Spacklespacklespackle.
Thursday, October 14, 2004
Alright, sit down, shut your gate and listen the fuck up!
(ha, just realized 'gate' is a Ken thing - or an east coaster thing. Whatever.)After another refreshing three hours of sleep, I woke up at the ungodly (well, for those unemployed people that is) hour of 8 am. And, as the cat sneezed 25 times in a row (I counted, and no I don't know what the hell was wrong with him - he's a neurotic freak), I thought, "Well, fuck you, universe. And fuck this. TODAY, everything is going to go my way. Got that? Well, do ya?"
And, you know what? .... it did.
After a brief altercation with the leasing company, we're trying again. And, although my chances for renting for November 1st are totally shot, they owe me big time now.
I finally hooked up with the HR lady, we hit it off (she's a Calgarian, that rocks) and so I have a test and interview for the job (the only job) that I actually want, on Thursday next week. Which is a $10,000 raise. Not as big as some I've applied for but really, that's a full third MORE of what I was making before and that is only good things. Ten thousand good things.
This means I shall be taking that already-paid-for flight to see M2, with a little side trip over to the rock to meet with HR - returning only three days before he drives out to pick me up.
Now with the amount of things I need to take care of here, that may strike all of us as a little irresponsible and, due to the fact that I have no money and may not actually make my next mortgage payment as well as afford to actually move to a place where I have no job, may even be downright stupid - I - quite frankly, need the stress relief. I need to relax into a few days of calm before the stress kicks in again for another month. And, although I could potentially be working that week and making enough to pay for said rental of minivan for M2 to drive out - it doesn't seem to be looking that way so far and I'm tired of waiting on other people. Besides, since this, we haven't seen each other and I think we need to, a little, to solidify the conclusions we've come to.
Besides, you wouldn't believe the brownie points I got for flying out to interview. I really want this job.
Let's digress a sec, cause I don't know that I've mentioned this before... due to the lack of knowing what I should do with my life, this executive assistant bullshit has always been a fallback position. Now, don't get me wrong, I'm good at it and it doesn't require a whole lot of mental effort on my part. Doing it as temp work where you essentially get a new job every week/month/quarter is wonderful. Don't mind that. But as a full time permanent job? I hate it. I loathe it. And eventually everyone else knows I hate it too. I miss my technical work although I do not miss the place I did it, although I appreciate that they taught me it. And this job is a combination tech/administration/training position that makes my mouth water. It's perfect. I might actually be HAPPY for more than three months in a job.
Or maybe not, but whatever, I've got a better chance with this one than I've had in a long time. And I'll be quitting to travel anyways. But... still....
Oh. Asides. Strode - I want a big mac. Bastard. In three weeks I will be a 20 minute drive from the nearest MickeyD's with no car. Although, come to think of it, I've lived four blocks from one for two and a half years and I've never been in it. Still, hungry now.
Vanessa - she was beautiful and you should be infinitely grateful that you started reading after the six months of weeping, wailing, self-pity and self-recrimination that surrounded her demise. But, I can say that now without crying. Almost. Miss her.
Lucky - yes, Cabot is coming with me, hopefully being out of the city and in the woods will help him to recover enough to be left behind without worry/guilt when I go. If not, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it and so far, I can deal with the allergy.
Where was I? Ah, someone has come by to remove my kitchen table and chairs for money. Various someone elses are coming over the next couple days to pick up the bookcase, the step machine, my desk, a table, my futon and the VCR. Which leaves me with a chair, a bed, a microwave and a washer and dryer. So, really, what the hell am I going to do next week anyways?
Tequila, serenity, a lake, dreadlocks and ... well, other stuff I am too delicate and ladylike to mention - here I come. Oh, which reminds me - the dreadlocks thing and the 'Oh god, how could you let your boyfriend do something so disgusting, aren't you embarrassed?' rebuttal post re: acceptance and recognition of the things that matter and the things that do not is percolating so I will be back with that. (Did I just promise something else I may or may not deliver. Who's got the list?)
The lake known only as "The Lake I Want to Take You To".
This post is getting to be a little nasty long but I have one more thing....
I am AGHAST at a) how much shit I've accumulated (even with the 20, count 'em, 20 black garbage bags of stuff I've thrown out) and b) where the fuck in here I've been keeping it all.
So far, 4 milk crates, two laundrey baskets, four rubbermaid containers, six boxes. A pile of shit I can't put in a box, another bookcase, a 'knicknack' rack, my desk chair, more books...... you can't even see it all. Shari's going to walk in here tomorrow night to help and turn around and walk right back out.
Oh, and that red lamp made it through two years of perfection. Till M2 lit the decorative candle sitting innocently below it, scorched it and thereby, instantly decimated the value. Men.
Gotta love 'em.
Worth a shot, I suppose
I was aiming for $800 a month, but if anyone knows a reliable human being who wants to sign a six month / one year lease directly with me, I'll go with $700.Of course, this will not help if said reliable person lives where most of you live. I'm just saying. On the off chance.
Laundrey room in the building, sauna, half-assed 'gym', u/g heated parking. 655 square feet. One bedroom. Storage/small room insuite. Honking balcony. Great view north to Nose Hill Park and east to DT. Three appliances. Picture.
Because, quite obviously the people who I'm paying, who have cashed the advertising allowance cheque but have yet to place an AD IN THE PAPER, or RETURN TWO PHONE CALLS AND AN EMAIL (except for the nasty one I sent tonight - still waiting on that) - are not doing their job.
And although I am perfectly okay with myself fucking myself around by fucking things up, the stress caused when other people do it and put my mortgage in jeopardy - I'm not so good with.
That is all. Good night.
Wednesday, October 13, 2004
I Get the Feeling That The Universe is No Longer Working in My Favor
Although I dragged my ass out of bed after 4 hours of sleep and then pounded back a coffee before trying HR woman again - I missed her as she is out of town for the day.Rather than take the Dirt Devil back to the shop and pay them another $20 bucks to unclog the hose when I can only sell it for about $20 bucks, I took it apart myself. One hour and twenty minutes later it is back together, minus one part I couldn't even be arsed to put back on, minus some saline solution from my body converted into tears of frustration, minus the feeling in my legs from sitting on the floor for so long and yes, ladies and gentlemen, minus one extra screw. I'm too afraid to see if it even turns on anymore.
No word from anyone else.
The following two week email conversation with the new management company:
they: Will you still be on the board? What do we do about.... and .... (ie: I am emailing you as an OWNER and you are asking me what to do about BOARD ISSUES. How appropriate.)
me: (a week later) Please have someone confirm that this has been done.
they: What is your new address?
me: I will send it along when I have it. Please confirm.
they: Who will be paying the condo fees?
me: *sob*
Although one of the nicest things about M2 is his calm and serenity, if he tells me one more time to not be frustrated cause it doesn't do any good anyways, I am utilizing that plane ticket I can't afford but is already paid for next week to fly out there and stab him in the neck.
Although, apparantly, as I was just informed, after I dread his hair for him. This is not my idea. I guess if the only other option is to have him just let it 'happen naturally' ... you know where 12 hours of my time will be going.
Oh yeah, for the Calgarians, if I haven't already emailed you..... Garage Sale. 1240 14th Ave SW. Sat/Sun 10 - 4. Bring chocolate.
Lots of it.
Tuesday, October 12, 2004
Thanksgiving 1A
...didn't manage to hook up with that lady (which means I have to get up early to do it tomorrow - ack!) but try try again. Thankyou for the luck, keep it up for one more day, will ya? Utter silence from the leasing people. As well as the temp companies. Not a good day for me. And I promise to tell you stories and then I don't - I'm a turrrible bloggah.SO, interim Thanksgiving blog about a 'little thankful' as opposed to the big one I'm supposed to be writing.
It's a letter to a boy.
Since I'm tired, this may come out all wrong as it's from notes I wrote while the family kept yelling "are you writing in a journal?". But it's Thanksgiving and I have to do this before I go to bed. So.....
I just walked alone along this amazing beach through a fantastic sunset, the lake so massive you can barely see the far shore....being quiet within myself for the first time in ages. Just walking and listening to my heart.
Full circle around to the pier, walking out to the end to sit with my legs over the water, three new rocks in my hand. Total silence around me. A bite in the air. A still lake.
And I realized that I was utterly and completely at peace. Which is not something I am very often, although - to be fair, it is something I am more and more.
Underlying that peace, in my heart there is this exquisite ... something. Joy is the best word I have to describe it. Fierce leaping joy.
A joy that has never been a part of this girls heart before. There are a lot of reasons for it to be there, I know. Things all new to me that, this year, I have decided and felt and found.
And then it occurs to me that I think you have this joy in your heart all the time. I think that maybe I understand you a little better than I did before. And I envy you a little, but only for a minute, because something inside of me knows that recognizing it today is only the beginning and that now that I know it's there, I'll always be able to find it. Even if it's only a little bit when I really need it.
This is one of the things that I have been learning from you. I know this because whether or not it was always there, it has only begun to grow big enough for me to recognize since I met you.
You are a lot of things, ***, but somewhere inside of you lives the wild and true heart of a child and that is a precious thing to have and to share.
And this year, that is one of the things I am thankful for.
Of course, it lasted only until I got up the next morning. But at least I know it's there somewhere and what it feels like. And I know a little better exactly what I'm wishing for all of you, as well.
Monday, October 11, 2004
It's been....
One week since any type of tobacco has been near my person.And I haven't even cheated this time.
It's a miracle.
But, man, I'd really like a cigarette.
I will be back with Thanksgiving Part Deux but right now I'm concentrating on the phone call about the job tomorrow - I have to convince them that I can do it in a snap, piece of cake - although I have never worked on that particular system before. And, then, if I can do *that*, I have to pass a test on it.
Hopefully, every thing else as well will fall into place tomorrow. That's an awful lot to be asking though. Wish me luck.
You think?
There is no ad in the paper to rent the condo. This is not helpful. AND REALLY PISSES ME OFF.My lower back is killing me.
I should be studying.
Don't expect a whole lot from me today, kids.
Jen's Thanksgiving. Part 1.
I just ate an amazing dinner, ON this beach. Without a sweater. Which, unless you've lived in Alberta, you probably won't understand. But trust me - it was a miraculous thing. And it has amazing soft sand, despite what the photo looks like.
Ma-Me-O Beach
Besides you guys, cause I tell ya all the time, for gosh sakes - below is what I'm most thankful for this year.
BUT not for the dirty minded reasons yer all thinking. You can't fool me, stop it right now.
I am tired though, very tired, and I leave this here as Part 1, simply because he's awfully nice to look at. Tomorrow, I will come back and tell you why. When I'm a little more eloquent.
T3
Sunday, October 10, 2004
Thanksgiving
I'll be gone all day, and in fact, should be in bed rightbloodynow, but I wanted to wish you all a Canadian Thanksgiving.Usually I make a list of the things I am thankful for but I'm pretty sure I'll just bore y'all. Cause lately, they're fairly obvious. ha. Maybe in a day or two once I get over the heartache of throwing out everything from my early 20's, which is what I did tonight. For now, a couple from last year that I went back and looked up....
-books, books, glorious books
-our inherent ability to grow and learn, if only we choose to do so
And, I think it would be amazingly wonderful if all of you stopped into the comments and told me something *you're* thankful for, since you're all something *I'm* thankful for. Even if it's not Thanksgiving where you are.
Saturday, October 09, 2004
Quote of the Month
From Sex, Drugs & Cocoa Puffs by Chuck Klosterman.I loved this. I read it to M2 last night. He didn't get it. Cause, unfortunately, my boyfriend was not born during those years. Because he is of a different generation than me. Which normally is so not an issue, in fact the only other time was when he said his parents had some of the same music as me. *shudder* Jeeeebus.
I'm assuming y'all figured this out by the pictures. Yanno, that he was younger. But, only in actual years. In fact, he may be one of the three most intellectually, spiritually and emotionally mature male persons I've ever met. And that's not something I say lightly.
lyric at post:
..I can be anything i put my mind to man,
all i gotta do is give myself half a chance
I can bring love back into my life
and share it with the world if I got some balance..color>
Missives from the Forest
From my landlady....so I will pick it up and give it to you. How's that sound? One thing I gotta tell you though, I am getting these rescue donkeys so they may be noisey..........
we'll all have a bit of ajusting to do. Hee Haw.. see ya
Strangely enough, I'm used to this as she trains border collies so back when we lived on the outskirts of town she had a little flock of geese she used for the dogs. I remember coming home from the bar pretty late (early) one night and laying there thinking, "Did I just hear a moo? Did Stef bring cows home? Nahhhh, she wouldn't do that, we pretty much live in a suburb." The next morning (afternoon) driven outside to investigate .... Oh noooo, she'd brought cows home.
It feels a bit strange to know that I'm moving out of the inner city after close to 10 years and back into farmland which is, strangely enough, about a mile and a half from the little farm I grew up on.
The downside there is that my exboyfriend/stalker/woman beater lives out there too and still has dealings with Stef so eventually that's going to be a problem. Hopefully we can hold off him finding out I'm back after all this time but....
An hour on the phone with Belinda last night, who is happy I'm coming back. She removed herself from all the high school people too and I am still her closest, and pretty much, only friend. Even though our contact is sporadic. I'm glad that I'm not leaving the country without getting to spend a little more time with her and the Lester, I would have been sad about that.
It's a little strange to try and explain to people that I won't be roaring into town, calling everyone up and proclaiming "Jenny's baaack!" (I'm going to have to get used to being called that again). In fact, after the voice message Tony:there left on my mail while I was out there, I had to call Ralphie and ask him not to say anything. (I should really get around to telling you guys about that. Sorry. It really requires nothing more than a transcript of the message so ..soon....)
I've never really been able to quite figure out how these things happen, how people just can't seem to let me go and then become so angry about it. I may be a 'love her or hate her' kind of girl and I guess I should be happy that there's more love there than hate but still...
I'm there for one reason, and one reason only, to hunker down and save all the money I can. The last thing I want to or even could do is slot myself back into being that person who left 10 years ago cause frankly, I left in a large part to kill that person, to face the things inside of me and work them out. I worked hard to do that and I'm not digging her back up now.
I didn't like her very much, not because she was mean - I don't think anyone would ever tell you I was a terrible person - but because she let everyone walk all over her and wound her in terrible ways. Then, at some point, her life became about hurting herself on the inside, before anyone else could. Those wounds are healed and now I understand why they never had the right to do that, how I gave them that right and how I ended up being the only one who suffered.
We become the person that people expect us to be and I had to go away for a long time to find a person who was strong enough to withstand those expectations. Because they still expect that girl they can hurt. The thing I think I'm most proud of is that I really have no need to prove to them that she no longer exists. I know. You know. The people who love me know. And we're the only ones that count.
Besides, she probably smells pretty bad by now, all that time dead and buried, you know.
This part of my life is about the future. The future I've always wanted and the future I can see within reach for the first time. The future I have worked so hard to see.
Friday, October 08, 2004
Link Scrub
Just finally going through the blogroll and cleaning it up. Anyone know where Ray went? Donna, promise to let me know if you start up again?tell you everything I've never had the courage to say?
From Londonmark's last(?) post.
The Debate Rages
Unbenownst to me, the request for the rest of the board to approve a garage sale at the building sparked off threes, nay, TENs of phone calls. Behind the scenes the telephone lines were burning up.Why, you ask? It's one day. It's a garage sale. Could anything be more harmless than that?
Apparantly not. And although I am on the board, having told you all before what a freakin' screaming meeming nightmare that is, this might give you some insight into just what I have meant by that.
"We'd be setting a precedent! Pretty soon everyone would be wanting to have garage sales and there'd be one every weekend!"
(Seriously, they actually said this to me. How many people in apartments even have enough stuff for a garage sale, I ask you? I'm having one because I am selling everything I own, fer riced shakes)
"Security! People could get into the building!"
(Okay, in the balcony's case - even though you can't get in or out without a key - I can sort of see this. But apparantly, it was also a big concern on the ground floor out in the open beside a 200 car parking lot and where the homeless sleep. Like a garage sale on public ground in proximity to the building is so enticing that hordes of people who probably walk by that very spot every day would suddenly have the urge to break in.)
"It'll drive the property value down!"
(ah, not like the homeless who sleep in the doorways and pee - and occasionally #2- down the side of the building? yeah, those garage sales, they're corruption, filth and decay personified)
And finally, "I know she said she wasn't selling any big things but what if she's got say, a sewing machine and someone pricks their finger on a needle and then sues us?"
(I can't even think of anything to say to this. It was so outrageously off the map of reality. I may have cried. I don't remember, you see, as I think my brain leaked out my ear at that point)
ANYWAY - the end result is that the commercial rep phoned me this morning to offer me his garage. He lives about three blocks away and is away the weekend I want to have it so we can go and set up the night before and then just lock everything up. He's got some stuff for me to sell too so I guess that covers a 'rental fee'.
Worked out pretty good for me I'd say. But, REALLY. Get a grip on yourselves, people.
Maybe the reason I'm so damned happy is nothing more than the realization that, after two and a half years in hell, I have attended my very last board meeting.
Hallelujah.
lyric at post:
..don't pay the ferryman
until he gets you to the other side..color>
Thursday, October 07, 2004
Adventures in the Culinary Arts
In the interests of 'using up what I have before I leave' and feeling a bit peckish, I decided to break open that bag of red & green popcorn kernels that Shari made for me last Christmas.So I made popcorn, the old way, in a pan, which I've never done. Guess what?
You're supposed to put a lid on it.
Cause otherwise you might come out of the bathroom to hot bits of flying oil and popcorn popping merrily all over the kitchen while the cat shrieks and hisses as he tries to protect his food bowl.
I only learn these things so I can pass my wisdom on to you.
*snort*
the joy of a long distance relationship
Girl: I haven't been able to figure out why I haven't tried to off you yet but it's either because you haven't started to bug me or you're just so damn sexy and interesting and cute and the belly is sort of wobbly and funny.Boy: So does this mean it is my turn to poke fun at your belly for a week? Tee hee hee. Poke poke. Tee hee hee. Poke. I like this game. Poke.
I'm sorry but I don't think that will ever NOT make me laugh.
gah. morning.
I've officially hit the state of 'unemployed sleeping habits'. Going to bed at 2 or 3 am and getting up at 11-ish. Going to bed so late is due in part to the simple fact that I'm wearing a nicotine patch (no cheating this time, thankyouverymuch) but instead of the usual 12 hours I'm actually wearing it for 24. Which, you know, helps with the cravings I suppose but unless you're a smoker who gets up every hour on the hour all night long, you end up with nicotine in your system when you normally wouldn't be gettin' a fix. Screws everything up.Although, since the cat still wakes me up for breakfast between 5:30 and 6:30 am, maybe I should just put it on then. Hmm. Will have to try that.
I woke up this morning to Bob Marley singing 'Is This Love' in my head. I can tell you the last time I heard that song - August long weekend last year. But, either the patch has ramped up my subconscious or because I'm moving back out west, my dreams began reviewing everyone, ever in my life the last week.
Then, Tony:here called to invite me to Thanksgiving dinner at his parent's cabin on the lake. Which rocks. I can't remember the last time I had a Thanksgiving dinner. Lacey and I just used to eat something completely outrageous as a treat for holidays and I don't celebrate any of them. Dave usually forces me out one day over Christmas and last year Shari had the two of us over for Christmas morning but hey, when you live alone and no one gets you presents, there just isn't much point, is there?
And the lake will be so absolutely beautiful because the cabins are right on the beach. Looking forward to that.
Today I have decided to put off the pleasure of peeing in a cup and instead continue sorting through my life and so I am off to do just that.
lyric in my head at post:
..I wanna love you and treat you right
I wanna love you every day and every night
We'll be together with a roof right over our heads
We'll share the shelter of my single bed..color>
lyric on the radio at post: (which makes me smile, much like you guys do)
..I could light the night up with my soul on fire
I could make the sun shine from pure desire
Let me feel that love come over me
Let me feel how strong it could be
Bring me a higher love
Bring me a higher love..color>
Wednesday, October 06, 2004
erm, s'cuse me?
I know I said I was good but me and the M2's emails are getting unmanageable and I've just realized I lose my three Shaw accounts in a few weeks.Could I trouble ya's out there for two more invites? Does one have to go directly to M2? How does that work? Help?
Tuesday, October 05, 2004
Life is Strangely Empty Without Digital Cable TV
Guess what I sold today? Back to basics. No more "oh I missed ER at 8 pm but, no worries, LOOK it's on five other channels every hour till 1 am!" *sigh*And I know I have questions down there in the comments that I need to answer but it's been a slammin' busy day - all of it good. Which means I have a shitload of online assessments to do cause once they're in the temp people figure they'll have me working on Monday at the latest. And that's sort of important right now.
I went over to the store TWICE today to buy cigarettes. The first time I came back with a huge mofo chocolate bar and just now, a bag of carrots. I figure a chocolate bar every time I have a craving might be a bad thing.
So, until I have a little more time to compose my thoughts - the latest pics are up. I shall leave you with the most memorable quote of the evening from the wedding reception....
"Damn girl, you look gooood. If I had a dick, I'd fuck ya."
I never said my friends were cultured, did I?
Monday, October 04, 2004
But then again
Remember how I said on the 30th about, oh whatever, points three and four. Well, either I left it until I went out there or we dealt with it over email. Which I have been unwilling to do. But then it occurred to me - that's part of the reason we're in this position in the first place. And, oh wait, we both communicate very well in writing. And this is one part of my life that shouldn't be causing me any worry right now. And if it is, then it's the one thing I can try and do something about. So, I emailed. (wow, too many 'ands' there.)And then, a couple days later, there's that reply staring at you from your inbox. And you're not sure you can bring yourself to open it.
But you do.
And there's a thoughtful and carefully considered reply. As honest as all his dealings are. About why he saw those things and how he sees them now.
And although you are reminded on a daily basis how great this fella is, somehow he just manages to crank it up a notch or two to a whole new level.
And I haven't said a whole lot about him, I know and I probably won't start but there will be a little bit more because this is part of an email I got yesterday.
I have been thinking about the blog for a while now, and I have decided that I am not going to go in there any more.
It has taken me a while to realize the importance of the blog to you, and how I affect it. I have come to realize how it is an important tool for you to sort stuff out....it is your mirror to talk to, your ocean side cliff to shout from. It also took me a long time to appreciate how important some of your blog friends are to you and that this is your primary form of communication with them.
Knowing that I could be in there has to affect some of the things you write and that is entirely unfair. It is very selfish of me to think otherwise, and selfish to know that I am effecting this important space of yours and to still do it.
This is why I am now promising to not got in there any more....whether you choose to trust/beleive this promise is up to you. But there it is. I enjoyed reading the blog, I love your style, and I don't want to inhibit that.
See what I mean?
Just a day
Today was just a day. I met with the leasing people. Which would all be well and good except....(wait, cutting & pasting)....-Initial fee of 4% of total cost of lease ie: 1 yr @ 750 = 9000 which would be $360) except the minimum is $550.
-Then 6% of each month ($750 = $45) except the minimum is $90. Now, is that fair I ask? The little people get fucked there.
-$250 up front to pay for advertising.
-Plus a new $550 each year for a new lease.
I'm sure they're good at their jobs and all but, COME ON. Real nice ladies though.
So, I have Roy coming (someone we interviewed to manage the building) in the morning. His contract? 1/2 of the first month ($375) then $80 a month and no re-lease fee. I still pay for ads but whatever, actual cost, that's fair.
Keep your fingers crossed that we can rent it out in the next three weeks.
Man, this is a pain in the ass.
I hauled about 30 books to the book store - they took 25 of them - I made $18.50 plus the book over there to the left. I sold the entertainment unit for $30. So, not gonna pay the mortgage this way but.... still, it's something.
Interview tomorrow with another temp company. I still haven't gotten my blood tests. Maybe Wednesday for that as I have to fast for 12 hours. Mike on the island is contemplating coming out to get me and my things for cost which would save me renting a minivan and making M2 drive it here and back.
Tony:here sent out my list of sale things and I got quite a few responses so we'll see if they pan out.
And it doesn't look like the 'board' will collectively agree that I can hold my moving sale on the back patio. Even if I pay them a percentage. Well, only one of them got back to me but I can't vote and there's only two more residentials on the board. Won't know on that one for another week. But shit, how the hell do I sell everything else I own?
Can't even think about that dilemma right now.
I am going to complete my boybloggy task (find a country you've never heard of and find out what their money is worth compared to Canada's) and then read my book.
lyric at post:
..held up so high on such a breakable thread,
you were all the things I thought I knew..color>
Sunday, October 03, 2004
eep
Welp, just threw out my high school years. I'm not sure if this is getting easier or harder but Derrick, if you're still around reading this - I kept your letters but I tossed the sweatshirt. Cause you were funny. And I'm STILL having problems with 'chick'.I sent out a mass email listing all my large items for sale. I could actually be living under a blanket on the floor in a week. And I've had two "WTF?" calls. It doesn't matter that they're people I haven't talked to in a year, I'm supposed to keep them in the loop and have a party.
Apparantly.
Sylvain calls and says, "Well, I figured I should call right away because we know when Jen makes up her mind, she's gone and I thought you'd be leaving next week." HeeHee. Fuck it, I'm outta here.
Actually, I am moving the date up. Did I tell you guys the date? It was November 15th but now it's October 31st. As long as the leasing people can flog the condo for a November 1st rental date.
My abdominal aorta? ick, special k. ick.
lyric at post:
..her timing is quite unusual..color>
Wading through the muck
And I am holding in my little hand right now, a pay stub from Victoria, January 29th, 1994. Yup, 10 years ago.Who cares, you ask? So what? Have you finally lost your mind?
It is EIGHT dollars LESS than what I've been bringing home for the last six months.
lyric at post: ..back in the chain gang..
Saturday, October 02, 2004
endless self torture, just the thing to start the weekend
I was laying in the tubbie just now and noticed a funny little fluttering in my belly. It was twitching. I could SEE it twitching. I must be having some sort of muscle spasm but ewwwww, putting my hand on it - it felt like a dog's heartbeat. Fast and really strong. How creepy is that?I made a bet with M2 about quitting smoking. Since I'm on my way out to see him on the 20th, the deal was a month. I had to quit two weeks before the 20th (the 6th) and then make it two weeks after. I want being a nonsmoker to be a part of moving. So that when I get there, I'm not a smoker anymore. It's far far past when I should have quit, we all know that by now but I just haven't been able to do it.
So, hey, everyone, I quit smoking again today. Just cause it seems like such a good idea and such a nice tranquil time in my life (not).
Anyways, the 'prize' is a full on facial and massage (for both of us) and over my cold dead body will I let that little bastard win another bet with me.
Friday, October 01, 2004
New Series
or
BOAT - Strolling Through the Dusty Attic of A Life
or
Yes, I'm dragging you down memory lane again, shut the hell up
Kay, first I have to say this. If anyone in Calgary wants to buy extremely cheap 'stuff' like a futon, a hugely wonderful goosedown featherbed, a 12 toed cat who almost chewed off an arm last week from the stress of me being away (okay, I may be kidding about selling the cat, more on that later), some lovely matching luggage, a ventless and environmentally friendly combination washer/dryer, a microwave, a freaking amazing boxspring and mattress (I can't be arsed to crawl around in there right now to find out the brand name but I will if I have to), a VCR (which if you can beat the $10 offer by $10 bucks on the buy and sell website, is yours), a digital cable box or a cable modem (although I'm not sure about these yet, moving back to the island is like stepping back in time 40 years so I don't know if they'll work yet - I may be forced to *gasp* *shudder* *swoon* *dig frantically through the yellow pages for a therapist* DIAL UP), bookcases, entertainment units, cd's, videotapes, books... jesus, name it, if I've got it ... I'll sell it. Just so you know. I have to get rid of enough of 35 years of stuff to live in that little fella down there.Which brings me to my point. YES! I had one! Freaky, I know.
Being a packrat and all (I mean, really, that sticker collection has been in a box since I was 10 - ie: 25 years) - it's pretty emotionally draining to dig through my entire life this way. Let's face it - what I'm doing is taking all the things that are materially/ sentimentally important to me and boxing them up for complete strangers to buy for 50 cents. That hurts me in a place I can't even show you. These things have been my anchor for my entire life and choosing to make them go away is appalling to me. It brings one of my 'quotes in waiting' into the foreground...
because the mind is never new, fresh, innocent.
Krishnamurti
Yet, it must be done. And it is, in part, what I'm trying to do. It doesn't make it any less difficult. As much as it sounds silly that I want to check out the lives and intentions of people who want my stuff, like I'm giving up a child for adoption, that is almost precisely how it feels. Will you take care of it? Will you be good to it? JESUS. It's stuff.
Most of this stuff is from the last 9 years here in Calgary but at least a third of it was brought back from BC two years ago (after I'd paid for it to be in storage for 7 years). I've been through it all tons of times and so what we have left now is pretty much the things I just haven't been willing or able to part with.
Over there is the candle that Grant (who named me Snug) gave me as a housewarming present in my first apartment, oh so long ago. And here! here is the jars filled with west coast beach, sealed so well that they are still wet with the ocean, that I made an Aussie friend bring back to Calgary from a trip to the island five years ago. Eek! Is that the Egyptian bookend Raymond brought me from the millenium party at the pyraminds? Is it right beside the incense burner my old boss brought me from Tibet?
My friend Colleen used to say that walking into my apartment was like walking directly into the memory center of my brain and you could never understand how overwhelmingly Jen that was unless you'd been around for a bunch of those memories.
So, here I sit, with the stereo cranked (which, since, Raymond left it here two years ago and I haven't heard from him since, will more than likely be sold as well) going through all this stuff and remembering the stories behind them all before wiping away a tear or suppressing a shudder and heartlessly tossing it in the bin. I figured I may as well keep the best stories in here for posterity. Or whatever. So, without further ado, the first installment in the "Strolling Through the Dusty Attic of A Life" series...
As a teenager, I spent a lot of time out on the Beecher Bay Indian Reserve which had it's own marina and campground run by the Band. (where, strangely, you can buy your own island for $995,000). The girl, Sharon, was my best friend; her brother, Russ, my first boyfriend and the boy I gave my virginity to a few years later; and Mike, her cousin, my third boyfriend and the one all the nasty things in the '100 things' are about. My home life was bad and they gave me an alternate home to go to, that while probably just as bad for different reasons - wasn't mine... and was a lot more fun.
I spent a lot of time "down the marina" as a teenager, raiding crab traps, laying on the docks flipping crawfish out by grabbing their antennas, laughing, crying, singing, loving, hating, drinking. Parties with rotating bands in the basement that are famous to this day in Victoria, even though Russ is now the Chief; careless times that I still carry physical scars from. Those times when you were immortal and young and so perfect in a way you couldn't comprehend until well... now. Nights in longhouses involved in incomprehensible rituals I was a part of because I was such a part of their lives, and they of mine. Living. Being a teenager, one that, looking back, had too many adult things on her mind, but still - a teenager nonetheless.
In my collection of 20 or so baseball hats, there sits one - dirty and a bit forlorn. Looking unloved. But although it was never actually worn by anyone, it is loved, because it embodies some of the best memories I have. It was a baseball hat that the marina had ordered to sell in the bait/gift shop and unfortunately, the printing company had made a little boo-boo. It was designed to be a picture of a sailing boat with the name of the marina printed underneath, but the dimwit on the printing press that day read the instruction box wrong. You see, the instruction box said "BOAT" (meaning there was a supplied picture for use). This is what they got back.....
lyric at post:
..my mother told me good
my mother told me strong
she said "be true to yourself
and you can't go wrong"..color>
Of course (edited)
..now that I want gmail, I can't get it - anyone got any invites left? -done and thankyou to the loverly Vanessa...now that I want temp work, people phone to offer me permanent jobs
Give it time, I'm sure I'll be able to add to the list, it's only 1:45 yet, the day is young.
I just threw out about 70 mixed tapes that encompass pretty much my entire life from 12 onwards and put my sticker collection in an envelope to send to my nieces and nephews. I haven't even opened that box in 20 years but *sigh*. I have mentioned I'm a packrat right?
Although, somewhere out in my own little spot of west coast rainforest, sitting patiently and waiting for me to arrive is my new home.... isn't it cute? All 25 feet of it? We should name it something.
Our new home.
The best thing is that it's a temporary home, until March when Stef (my old/new landlady) and I will reevaluate. If I'm staying, they'll boot a tenant out if I want a 'real' house and if I'm not and I'm heading off somewhere else, they're all good with that. Even though they bought it just for me and Cabot. And by no means are these people well-off, they're struggling and they work damn hard. And they believe in me. Like you guys do. And that is a precious thing.
Now if I could just get everything else to go this well.....
