Monday, February 28, 2005
Monday Bumper Sticker #8
**I think some of the people here are dead**
lyric at post:
..I'm the one for you 'cause I know all the dirty things you like to do
I'm the fear in your eyes
I'm the fire in your flies..color>
Sunday, February 27, 2005
An Oscar Moment
Brought To You By MaJen
I'm sort of ignoring the Oscars - reading, finding a bumper sticker for the Monday post, cleaning the toilet, you know, important and pressing things - and I hear one of the weinies, Poof Daddy, say something about the next song being sung by Josh Groban. MaJen only met Matt twice and there's some dim memory of her saying that he reminded her of Josh Groban. I figure I may as well get up from the computer and walk the foot and a half around to the TV and take a look, since I have no freaking idea who Josh Groban is. While I'm standing there, thinking, "yeaaaaaah, no, not really", the phone rings.
Yup, it's MaJen.
"Are you watching the Oscars?
I say, "Yeah, Mom, Matt doesn't look like Josh Groban."
"Yes, he does."
"I don't think so Mom, but that could be cause you didn't spend five months staring at him."
"Jennifer,"she says, "I'm sitting here looking at the wall beside my head where there's a picture of Matt, looking at it I say, not a foot in front of my face, and Matt looks just like him."
My mom, hey? loyal to the bitter end. Actually, she's being loyal to me and keeping the picture there because I loved him. And that's all part of MaJen's cuteness, I think.
But, the only possible resemblance between those two, other than possibly their age, is the sharp little nose.
I'm Sure I Have More Productive Things To Do
The route map. Major cities only - in Australia, New Zealand and the UK, I'll be more places than listed. All at once. Cause I'm a superhero.Erm, the proposed route map. Knowing my luck, Southern New Zealand will sink in September. Or move. Then a volcano will de-rain Ecuador's rainforest. So, as much as I'd like this to be final (with maybe Lhasa, Tibet in there too), I'm sure it won't be.
Vancouver, BC, Canada
Raleigh/Durham, North Carolina, USA
London, UK
Cairns, Queensland, AU
Brisbane, Queensland, AU
Sydney, NSW, AU
Wellington, NZ
Nelson, NZ
Invercargill, NZ
Dunedin, NZ
Christchurch, NZ
Canberra, NSW, AU
Melbourne, VIC, AU
Adelaide, SA, AU
Perth, WA, AU
Denpasar, Bali
Singaraja, Northern Bali
London, UK
Glasgow, Scotland
Dublin, Ireland
Quito, Ecuador
Loja, Equador
Vancouver, BC, Canada.
The only thing that concerns me there is that, since I'm not too arsed about returning to North America, then I'll end up in Ecuador, or not get there at all. Oh well, the best-laid plans and all that rubbish. Gotta have goals, etc etc.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
Travelling Concerns
MaJen is visiting this weekend - well, not visiting ME, since I have no space (there's a method to this madness, yo) and in returning her call this morning at 11:50 am I get, "Are you just getting up?"I finally, after years of refusing to give into the temptation, answered that question with... "I think you missed the part of my life where I stopped being 18. By 17 years."
Of course, I quite handily blocked out that I said yesterday I was sleeping through the day like a teenager.
We say we're complex, but it's really bullshit, you know - we're just contradictory. It's a lot more fun. And you don't really have to keep track of what you've said before since you're not lying, you're contradicting yourself.
I spent the morning doing homey things while the fog rolled in and out, followed by three hours of searching for an easily updateable (but not handmade since that would need uploading and would not be easy) "where the hell is she NOW" map for the Airborne Pathojen 2006™ tour. IndyJunior is too small / nonspecific. Joshua Davis has a pretty hot one, except it's not something I can use. The My Trip Journal people have a good one -except I'm not paying $70US a year and I don't want to maintain an entire full on site outside of blogger. Bravenet guestmaps are almost it, but again, not really suitable for my purpose. The Great Circle Mapper seems like the best thing so far except I don't think it can be imported and the link to my info probably only works when *I* go back there.
Suggestions will be welcomed with tears of relief, I had to stop looking before my brain exploded.
I wandered off, then, to spend a little 'calm-time' eyeballing the Ecuadorian stops I've added to the itinerary (with many thanks to our Sal and that uber-organized Jen,also).
Outside, then, it is for me.
lyric at post:
..there's gonna be a change of season
Indian summer look around and it's gone
why you wanna save the best for last
we grow up so slowly and grow old so fast..color>
Friday, February 25, 2005
A Day Asleep
It seems somehow, normal, that a good day like yesterday necessitates the visit of a headache to destroy functioning and triggers a contrast of feeling - sudden, breathtaking loneliness in the absence, still, of Matt.As if somehow, a good day is a betrayal of the time when you thought a day would never be good again. Even while knowing it's not true and believing that a good day does not then invite some form of punishment. Whether self-inflicted, or not. One step forward, a stagger and a stumble back. I never meant, YJ, that passing that doorway doesn't mean that you don't stop every once in awhile to peer in another.
Today, it was just easiest to stay home from work and endeavor to sleep right through it, like a teenager.
In REM sleep, our brain waves range between 8 and 13 hertz,
the earth quivers gently at around 10 hertz. So, in our deepest sleep,
we enter synchonicity with the trembling of the earth.
Dreaming, we become the Earth's dream.
'A Natural History of the Senses'
Thursday, February 24, 2005
Smiles. Puzzled and Otherwise.
But first, a little tear...But mostly, I worry about how long it will be until I see you again."
TV - ER. Not exact. But exact enough. And if you haven't been watching ER since it began, well, then I just don't know what to say to you. I will, however, if you admit it, try not to be derogatory and cruel.
erm... too derogatory and cruel.
Otherwise, I spent the evening with da family. My stepmother, who makes what she thinks / knows I want, even if I don't tell her. Last summer, she made all Matt's favorite foods, knowing that it had been a long time since he'd been home.
After nine years of no home-cooking, apart from what I've made for myself, these days I go once a month and she makes what I want. Even, as I found out last time, if it's something that they as a family, never eat. I've gotten into the habit only of telling her what I *don't* want, in the hopes that they'll not go out of their way for me.
Tonight - roast pork, crackling beautiful fat, and mashed potatoes. Two things I know they never cook.
Followed by the first people, other than Matt, in real life, to tell me that they admired me and applauded me for what I was doing, what I was attempting to do.
That was a shocking thing and maybe you'll just need to trust me on that one. No, you will, I can't describe 23 years of resentment, misunderstanding and seemingly insurmountable differences of opinion and viewpoints in years of blogging, let alone two or three sentences. Besides, who the fuck cares? We all have family crap. Some of it is good. Some of it works itself out. Some of it we come to understand over a period of years. Some of it we just grow into. And of all these things, some of it, we don't.
Sometimes, I want to tell them about the cancer and tonight I came close. Because, no, my family doesn't know. I think, these days, that there isn't any reason to ever tell them. I think I've talked about the reasons for that lately with YJ but I'm not sure that I need to, here.
Followed by the clothing explosion that ended up with my 17 year old half-sister outfitting me in 'cool' hipster cords that made me look like I had a bum whilst my 47 year old stepmother contributed clog suede shoes and a french cuffed shirt to hide 'the belly'.
Such a strange feeling. To be the middle ground between generations. Even stranger it is to be able to carry it off and head off home with tons of 'new' clothes - including a pair of pumas. Cause, to me, they look like runners. I'm wrong, I guess, they're PUMAS, don'tcha know.
Returning home, a call-back from someone I've missed dearly for many years. I'd left a message last week and honestly, had given up hopes of hearing back from her. Of all the people in my life that I'd left behind, I can honestly say that this person is the only one of two or three who, justified or not, has never disappointed me. Even apart from the MeMeMe attitude, this person has never hurt anyone, who's a good and kind person to the core of their very being, who is someone I have always aspired to be like. I am so glad she called back. I can't even express how happy this makes me.
Finally, how I laughed - explaining finally, the roundabout way I'd met Matt, who's become only the third boyfriend my family has ever met (although, strangely, to me, my half-sister wants to meet the high school sweetheart). Bowing to the pressure to show pictures from the wedding, I was quite impatiently told - "I don't want to see pictures with Matt in them."
When I got to the part where I explained T3's part in all of this - I was quite errrr... adamantly told that (aesthetically speaking) I'd made the wrong choice and I should be remedying that posthaste.
Every day, this life I find myself in gets - by equal measures - more wonderful and more strange.
Does it, for you?
lyric at post:
..this life well it's slipping right through my hands
these days turned out nothing like I had planned..color>
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Itineraries
I'm a little untalkative today. And starving. So I am off to eat dinner, (probably twice, since I ate lunch twice already) watch Lost and read my new book.I've been working on a tentative itinerary for the Airborne Pathojen 2006™ tour, for although I am now leaving a bit later (April), it's all still a go. The rainforest involves time-of-year planning as well as optimal travelling months for most of what I'd like to structure - this is a consideration when you are backpacking and camping, or driving a campervan great distances in such a vast country.
The idea is to cram as much info in as I can, let it all stew around up there in my head until January, then take what floats to the top and tee it all up. At this point the countries are Australia, New Zealand, the UK and Bali (the north side). Suggestions within those countries are welcome and will be added to the list. There'll be another country in there somewhere, I think, but as yet, it has no name.
In the spirit of this next chapter of my life, that of giving it all up to become a travelling fool, a quote from Diane Ackerman and 'A Natural History of the Senses'
The great affair, the love affair with life, is to live as variously as possible,
to groom one's curiosity like a high-spirited thoroughbred, climb aboard,
and gallop over the thick sun-struck hills every day.
Where there is no risk, the emotional terrain is flat and unyielding,
and, despite all it's dimensions, valleys, pinnacles and detours,
life will seem to have none of it's magnificent geography, only a length.
It began in mystery, and it will end in mystery, but what a
savage and beautiful country lies in between.
Tuesday, February 22, 2005
Understatements of the Day
A Boring Doctor Post
Today was check in with doctor day. ERRRRRG, I hate not having a cute name for him. Damn. He's Asian and he has permed hair.... there's gotta be something unique in that. But not mean. Because I *heart* my doctor. And it's cute. And it suits him. But .... arg! name!I had to tell him what I thought of my new specialist so we can decide whether to keep him or throw him back. We had our little talk about how I'm doing and what I'm doing. What I want to do. Our hopes and dreams. Our list of people we would kill if we could get away with it....
oh, got distracted there, sorry...
We decide the next step with the drugs and this is where he says...
"I know it's a bit of a pain in the ass to have to monitor all the time by symptoms and how you think you're doing but there's just no other way to do this. There're no tests to show us the level of serotonin you're producing and what that means. Oh, but if someone ever invented a blood test for that, I'll bet he'd win the Nobel Peace Prize."
And, I think he'd get all the girls, too. Don't you agree?
(side note: that's kind of an interesting page: And although I'm not OCD, I found this statement particularly poignant...)
Recent findings suggest that the serotonin (5-HT) transporter might be linked to both neuroticism and sexual behaviour as well as to obsessive-compulsive disorder (OCD). The similarities between an overvalued idea, such as that typical of subjects in the early phase of a love relationship, and .. OCD .., prompted us to explore the possibility that the two conditions might share alterations at the level of the 5-HT transporter.
Honest, officer, I'm not hopelessly insane! I'm not incurable! It's perfectly normal for me to drive around the block fifty times before I can go in my driveway - it's just that right now I'm not sure if it's OCD... or love.
lyric at post:
..now I'm in a restaurant in Stockholm
and the waiter here wants me to know his name
and I can order sandwiches in seven different languages
but every fucking city looks the same..color>
Monday, February 21, 2005
Monday Bumper Sticker #7
Plus - Torture in the Land Down Under
Accompanied by Soundtrack
Weird sleep. Weird dreams. Matt's big bald aussie friend Dan kept morphing in and out with Effing and I just couldn't keep the two of you straight. OzKiwiDanEffing. gahhh.
Then I got up this morning to an email from Matt (I'd asked for some info from his parental units) that also informed me I'm welcome to stay with them for a few days while I'm in Aus (he should have left the country by then).
That thought's just a little too weird for me right now.
I mean what would be the motivation there? What's he told them about me? Could his mother tell me why he's such a shit? (okay I don't really believe he's a shit but you get my point) Would it be evil to want them to love me so much that they'd never ever accept anyone else he brought home? What if they hated me? What if I wanted them to adopt me? What if *I* hated them? Even worse, what if I have more in common with the older parents than I had with the younger boyfriend?
Seriously. It's a dilemma.
We can only hope it's long past by the time I get there.
(the following cd list, playing in the car, present from boy in the time tested tradition of the 'mixed tape')
Paul Kelly
These Days
Powderfinger
Harpoon
Jebidiah
Bittersweet
HooDoo Gurus
Fall For You
The Whitlams
Amazing
Alex Lloyd
The Girl of My Dreams Is Giving Me Nightmares
Machine Gun Fellatio
lyric at post:
..But the taste of you, I get buried in your mouth
I fall in, I don't care if I can't climb out..color>
Sunday, February 20, 2005
My God! You're An Animal!
Cabot is progressing in leaps and bounds towards normality these days. This afternoon he spent a good four hours outside.For an abused and abandoned cat who's broken off his fangs and is missing most of his teeth, less the tips of his ears from a winter or two surviving on the streets in Calgary in -30 degree weather, who doesn't have a square inch of his body without a scar on it - he now runs AT the door growling when someone knocks on it. For a cat who's never put his claws out to me he's lately proven to be pretty handy with his fists. Considering we're surrounded by five cats, six dogs, sheep, cows, chickens and donkeys - and that's just the 'domestics', I must admit I'm a bit shocked when he faces down the other cats here.
I always thought it was, judging by his demeanor and his scars, because he was a bit of a.. well.. pussy. I'm coming to think though, that he would never have survived his time on the streets unless he was ruthless and cruel rather than submissive.
I have tons of pictures - in my camera. These days I can look at the ones from the island in December and even listen to Matt's cds so it won't be long before I can get the rest developed and post them all. I think I have eight more pics on this film and then I shall subject you to me happy, farm animals and Cabot doing strange things.
In regards to the 'domestics', there are baby sheep (lambs? veal? what?) that were born during the snow, people here count on the mild winters so the boys were put in the pen with the ladies a little early.
The paddock I mentioned last Sunday was this week full of boy cows climbing on girl cows. I just don't need to see that kind of stuff.
I mean, really, SpinsterJen living with her cat. Stef offered me one of the dogs (the one named Jenny, ack!) today for walking - as they are such a 'guy magnet'. She is adamant that I should be dating. Even without the fact that nothing will deter me from leaving here next year, I can't be bothered to explain that sex is unthinkable. That somehow, to me, it would be removing the last piece of Matt - the one from my body - and writing over it. I don't want that. I'm not ready for that. Not for a long while.
Anyways, just a few minutes ago, Cabot was standing at the screen door as I read on the couch and at his inquisitive 'mrrp?' I looked over to see a rooster jumping one of the chickens not four feet from the door. Cabot looked as disgusted as I did.
Cause, of course, from his point of view, he's a cat without teeth, without manhood, cursed with thumbs, a stranger in this province and living in abject bachelorhood with me.
Works both ways, that.
Saturday, February 19, 2005
Rosemary and Thyme
Today was one of those days I moved back here for. Gorgeous.I dozed past 11 while the birds chirped, drank my coffee on the 'porch' then cranked open the hatches, opened the door and windows, hauled everything out into the sunshine and cleaned all day. Now I am broiling a herbed fresh rainbow trout and pouring a glass of wine so I can eat outside.
This kind of day is just not the same in a condo in the downtown of a city. Today was the first day I've had like this in nine and a half years. That's sad.
Last night I dreamt that I was hanging out with my family and Matt called to see if I wanted to go out and watch some live music. For some reason I thought this was strange and he asked me if we did that as a family event, like his did.
Then he asked me whether the closet my parents had kept me in had soft walls or not.
Obviously, I need more fresh air.
lyric at post:
..no I'll stand my ground, won't be turned around
and I'll keep this world from draggin me down..color>
Friday, February 18, 2005
Half Finished Thoughts.
And a Poem.
You know when you've got almost nothing big left to worry about and everything gets a bit easier to see? There's been some big fat asses in my way for a while, and I'd say that things feel different (ha!) but I think it's just little things for a bit. At least I hope so. The big things of the last few months are behind me now and there's not much left to lose at this point. I don't mean that in a bad way, not at all.
I never actually promised I'd make any sense. Just so you know.
My doctor's favorite plant is the hedge.
Okay it's not but I've been saving that line for ages and never get to use it. I met a new doctor today. Cause yanno, there's GP's and specialists and videographers and camera men. Oh wait, no, that was that weird surgery I haven't gotten around to telling you about yet. Or did I?
Anyways, this is one of those specialists I get to drag about with me these days. I think he's brilliant. After two minutes I would have lit myself on fire without a second thought if he'd told me it would be good for me. How many doctors actually say things like, "It has been so great to meet you. I'm really glad."? Seriously? Doctor's like my GP and him are rare and not only do they deserve my undying love and affection and yes, even your firstborn child (I'm not having any, sorry, I had to promise yours) - they have it.
Since I work in the hospital he was telling me about when they filmed Intersection down where my office is. I work with Richard Gere and Sharon Stone germs. That's kinda cool.
I forget sometimes how people react to you when you're happy. I went to the bank to put some money in Matt's account and the lady introduced herself to me, asked my name and shook my hand. How weird is that? I told her I wasn't a customer but I'd be a regular since I owe Matt so much money I'll be in there every payday until my teeth fall out and we could have wheelchair races across the floor. I swear she giggled.
I love grocery day. But I get all confused because I do not know what to eat first. I want all of it right now. NOW!
You know how you get those foot cramps and you have to dance around the house for ages to make them go away? But you think they're gone and then go to do something and suddenly, in the midst of a delicate movement such as scratching the corner of your eye, they return with eight times the force and agony? I dare you to experience that whilst hopping and screaming in a home the size of a bus.
One of my credit card companies called last night to offer me some insurance that would pay me a $100 a day (after the first three days) for any hospital stay. $200 if my spouse and I were in the hospital at the same time, blah blah blah blahde blah. Although I have NEVER done this before, I am not ashamed at all to say I actually said (but only after the first three 'no thank you's')... "Hey, that's great! I've smoked for 23 years and had lung cancer not long ago. How much did you say that insurance was a month? $6.95? And it's good till I'm 70? Wow, that's another 35 years!"
They got off the phone pretty quick, I tell ya. I think maybe buddy felt bad but seriously, you have to be a special kind of person to do that kind of job. To talk so fast people who don't want to talk to you can't get a word in edgewise and then refuse to hear NO. Repeatedly. I don't think they'll be calling back. Pity.
I quite enjoyed that.
I think that may be it for now, I have run out of steam. Emails and catching up tomorrow, still.
Oh, yeah, the poem. The last one, I think, by good ol' Al.
Optimist
In a black mood
there seems little reason to live
after a quarrel at least
a rejection of some kind
or when ennui fogs the lens
you look at the world with
and even sex dies down
into proof of the virility
of a habit
But it passes
(one hemlock for the road)
it passes.
Shall we dance?
lyric at post:
..I believe disease is coming
I believe that's why I'm running
Keep living..color>
Thursday, February 17, 2005
Thursday is TV Night
huh. well. yeah.I don't have much to say. I'm posting and then taking a night off to watch TV and read a book. I am, however, calm. And smiling. And very behind in emails. So, I'm smiling at you and hoping y'all can wait until Saturday.
And I'm hungry because I got home and I was out of propane and had to go back out (but OH MY GOD, it felt so much better to find I'd run out at 5 pm than at 5 AM, I cannot tell you.)
I think all the reactions just been burnt out of me. Caaaaaaalm. Or maybe nothing else can go wrong. (knockwood). But, calm is boring, innit and I'd bet after two weeks you'd be begging me to go out and get in some sort of JENTHING.
Hey! New word! Jenthing. Jennything.
"I shall be out this weekend participating in a jenthing and shall not allow you to distract me from my mission."
"How dare you suggest I had jennything to do with that fire that burnt down your barn. "
HA! I like it. I'm brilliant.
lyric at post:
..all I ever wanted, a chance to catch my breath
to see the world go by and lay my ghosts to rest..color>
Wednesday, February 16, 2005
Perspective
It's hard to give up on an idea. There's been too much stress for me and the things that used to not faze me in the slightest - things I would just sit down, take a deep breath and then work out - have been things that absolutely throw me out of whack, instantly. I know that's stress, I know I've been through a lot. I know I've chosen these things. I know, I know, I know.For some reason, having this portion of the money from the equity in my house in the bank, up front and ready to go, seemed like the final hurdle I had to jump after all this other crap of getting to this point. I'd hung a lot of stuff on it, like I'd forgotten everything I've ever learned about my life and actually thought this would signal smooth sailing for the rest of the year.
Last night, as I took a breath between alternately yelling at my mom and trying to make her agree that I really was a loser, she said "Why don't you talk to Cheryl about what happened today? She's good with the ideas."
I said, "Do I really want my landlady to know that much about my finances or what's going on?"
She says, "Well, if you don't leave in January, don't you think they'll notice?"
So, once I finished with the tear-flooding of my living room and shorted out the phone, I called my landlady/friend/surrogate family and told her I wanted to come over and run some ideas by her since I'd run into a large glitch in my plans.
She made some tea for us and then we worked it out. I don't have anyone to run ideas by and so sometimes I think I'm doing the right thing but there's no one to tell me that maybe I'm not. No advice out there in lala land for Jen. Which may be what causes the biggest fuckups in my life. Whatever, it can't be helped, but at least I have Cheryl to tell me if I'm being reasonable at least.
One of the things she said to me was, "When you called and said you had run into a big glitch, I immediately thought, one - the cancer's back, two - you lost your job."
She had a point, yeah?
Of course, she immediately followed it by, "I think this is why you are so skinny, you're utterly dehydrated all the time - you never used to be this way, what has the big scary city done to our Jen?"
(I don't think it was the city, I think it's Matt's fault. All of it. Even the scar on my chin from when I was five and fell off my bike.)
Did I say that out loud?
Tuesday, February 15, 2005
Today is Not the Day We Find Out What Happens Then
It actually seems to be getting easier to get back up. Or maybe I've lost my mind. Maybe it doesn't matter.So. Cry. Cry a little more. Call Philly and cry on her. Yell, "I don't fucking CARE about anyone else!" when your dear sweet mother says, "Well, there's always someone else worse off than you."
..... then.... regroup.
I'm regrouped. I'm at two alternative options. Either one will work fine, I think. Just a little differently.
And maybe, in the end, a little better.
Down for the Count
If I still lived in my condo, then everything would be hunky dorey>Because I changed my entire life in preparation for a year long buildup to leaving and the condo became a rental, there are a bunch of caveats that don't fit.
So here I am. Without the money.
There isn't a choice on whether to just get back up off the floor again and again but at what point can I just not take anymore disappointment and heartache and pain? What happens then?
Monday, February 14, 2005
You Know, It's a Little Weird
(Blah Blah Blah)
I'm not happy with how that came out. Although, it's already been seen by most of the planet I've taken it back out for now. Violated a major rule of blogging, I know. You can kill me later....But, I have babbled on enough and so I leave with a little more Al Purdy. One a little more in the mood of this day of the year, and how, in an obscure way - I feel about all of you....
Winter at Roblin Lake
Seeing the sky darken & the fields
turn brown & the lake lead-grey
as some enormous scrap of sheet metal
& wind grabs the world around the equator
I am most thankful for knowing about
the little gold hairs on your belly --
Alfred Purdy
The Cariboo Horses
(amen)
lyric at post:
..everything I am
and everything in me
wants to be the one
you wanted me to be
I'll never let you down
even if I could
I'd give up everything
if only for your good
so hold me when I'm here
right me when I'm wrong
you can hold me when I'm scared
you won't always be there
so love me when I'm gone..color>
Preempting the Monday Bumper Sticker
It's that time of year, again.
Sunday, February 13, 2005
Sunday Morning
A Whole Lotta Thoughts
Cabot woke me up at 7 am today by knocking over the Dri-Z-Air in the bedroom. The water in it ends up being chemically treated by whatever those little white pellets are and so doesn't soak into anything (including anything you try to clean it up with) and leaves a funny slippy residue on everything it touches.I cleaned it up as best I could, put food out for the little feller and tried to go back to sleep. I've got my period though and my lower back just aches no matter what position I try to sleep in - I did manage it for a little while but the dreams I had were full of their very own kind of ache.
Finally giving up, I shower, notice the hot water heater isn't kicking in again and make my thrice weekly call over next door to let them know and leave to drive 'into town'.
Just up the road from me is a golf course and although it is just past 8:30 am, the golf worshippers are already out in force. Directly across the road is an Anglican Church, parking lot full of it's own celebrants.
I drive a minimum of 12 hours a week these days (strange after driving 12 hours a YEAR for the last nine years) so weekly I check Miss Betsy LaRue's vital fluids and top up her right front foot as she's got a slow leak.
From there, I head over to the library to drop off some books I've finished and then drive through Tim Hortons for a coffee before turning around and heading back towards home. I drive by the golf course where my brother works and slow down to pace a deer as it crosses over from the course to the front yards of the houses across the street. Driving on, I'm smiling and some of the deer's beauty and grace has taken the place of the dream residue.
I headed down to the beach by my house, a childhood place where I never took Matt and, for now, one of the few I can actually visit to find a little peace. My coffee, a book and I tuck ourselves into the side of a log.
Mostly though, I don't read, I just sit and sip my coffee and listen to the waves come crashing in about eight yards in front of me.
I was thinking about belief, about a way to find a path I can follow back to a certainty that lately has been a bit shaky. I know that this is a change from most of my life when I never felt any kind of certainty at all and that gives me hope. A life where there has been no surety of faith now has a little bit to build on. To realize that I had actually found it, if only briefly and in a form that begs a transformation to become my own - was a little like a small miracle all itself this morning.
If I am to travel and to travel alone, I will have to let go of the small rituals and the stability of the 'things' in my life. And too, I have to find a way to allow something else to make a new home in their place. A new kind of belief that I can always find familiar and comforting in a new world that will be full of unfamiliar things. A new world where I cannot just 'go home' to find security again.
This morning my life touched three things that would, I think, fall under the heading of the things that our society worships. The church. A sport. Nature.
Many people define their religion as a belief. They pin their hopes and understanding of this life on the framework that their religion gives to them. I'm not so good with organized religion. I think I've always needed to find my own faith, that it is not something that can just be given to me and lived without question and, as well, that it is a search that I've not been particularly successful in so far.
As I sit here, home again, at my kitchen table talking to you I can look up and see, a hundred feet away, two small rams pacing before pausing and running at each other - I can hear the crunch their heads make as they collide and I wince as their horns dig in. There is a cow sidestepping to get out of their way and the two miniature donkeys in the paddock ignore all of them, choosing instead to continue eating the nettles. I experience more wonderment and reverence in these moments than in anything else in life.
I believe that nature is it's own belief system. That it's spirituality lies in its reminder that it is egoless, constant, structured and wild. That, without the influence of mankind, it exists in a perfect state of balance. A balance that is breathtaking and sacred and that no matter where you are in the world, nature can always serve as an end result, a starting point and a solid foundation for all other forms of belief.
To travel, far from the familiar and all of the security it holds, is to give up control. I will have to find a way to balance that with something inside of me that will provide, in some way, what I am leaving behind. Thomas Moore says that travel, for the heart and soul, requires real magic. That one has to find ways to arrive fully, body and soul, in a new place, and how to make the getting there a voyage of enchantment. It is an abandonment to fate that entails surrender to storms and calm seas, both. To find, in each place, the genus loci, the spirit of a place. Marsilio Ficino said that, "Everywhere the world is alive and breathes, and we can absorb it's spirit."
I came home to my horoscope, which said, in part...Perhaps it is time to investigate your beliefs. Are they providing you with the help you need to get where you wish to be?
I've believed this past couple of years that there is a reason I am on this path, that I have become better at listening to the voice of my soul, that I have given myself up to following it's wishes and that I am heading in the right direction. That the aimlessless and lack of purpose I've always felt within me had a voice that I was too afraid to hear. That I feel this even in the midst of the fear that flashes through me like a sudden squall on a regular basis, serves only to reinforce my choices.
The last few months have been difficult and it will be a while yet before the hurt is diluted enough to live unseen beneath the surface but, in the meantime, little step by little step, my strength comes from a different place. I hope that these things I come to will do their part in preparing me for what I'm hoping to do next year, which at this point is by no means assured. I believe, in my heart, that this is the direction I am to go and after the things I have already done to prepare, that anything else is unimaginable.
At the same time, I remember that three months ago, I knew that there was a possibility Matt would leave me, but in my heart, it was unthinkable that it would come to pass. Maybe my heart was right, it still feels that even with the very different way I have come to see Matt over this last four weeks. But, too, my heart's conviction was relying on another's heart as well. That, I think, was my mistake - to take what was in my heart and use it to shape my belief in Matt's heart.
Today, on the beach, I thought that maybe building my faith outward from my heart hasn't been the right path to follow, maybe instead, I'm being told that it needs to start outside of me first. That I need to build a framework on something that is available to me in every place on earth, before I can anchor a part of it within myself. A religion, if you will, that begins with the beginning, with life. All life. Even the life that resides in places and things.
A girl, an early morning and a beach.
A beach where, rightly enough for now, the only footprints are her own.
Saturday, February 12, 2005
Excuse Me, Is This The Way To The Twilight Zone?
Today was a weird day about which I have only two things to say.I just finished watching Garden State and it's a great movie.
I think, though, that if you were really my friends you would have warned me that in the ending, the perfect boy gets off the plane and comes back for her.
I don't need to be seeing that kind of stuff. I'm just saying.
And, at some point this afternoon I found myself staring at myself in the 'hall' mirror and wondering why it sometimes feels like if we were to do something completely drastic and strange, then everything in our world will just magically right itself. Like the drastic thing would be the catalyst to everything around you changing. Have you ever had that feeling? Is it just me?
I eventually decided, however, that I wouldn't give in to the urge to lay out the scissors, soap and a couple of Lady Bics so I could shave my head.
At least, not today.
lyric at post:
..drink up baby down.
mmm, are you in or are you out?..color>
Purely Coincidental
A Poem
Looking for a poem today since I am about to wander off into the sunshine, I came across the following, written in the early 60's, by one of our Canadian greats, Al Purdy. And, honest, I just turned the page and there it was...neat little twist and all.Homo Canadensis
I didn't know him
but thought somebody else did,
for everyone was friendly in that bar
except this guy in the red checked shirt:
he was aggressive and pro-Canadian,
stubbing a Players outside the ashtray
swaying in his chair and gulping beer
like water
drunk and getting drunker ---
"Best beer in the world," he said.
"Bout the only thing left that's really Canadian."
And glared ut as.
"Did you know that 60% of Canadian industry
is American owned?
They callem American shubshidyaries--"
Everyone laughed when he stumbled over the word,
and he slapped his hand hard on the table,
"Don't laugh!" he said.
"Okay, I been drinkin, I like to drink.
But don't laugh when you see this country
TAKEN OVER
just sort of casually
like an afterthought, like a burp after dinner --"
"So what?" somebody said.
Everybody here knows we'll belong to the States
in another 10 years ..."
The guy swelled up like a sneering bullfrog,
"And guys like you deserve to be taken over.
But when you are you'll be 2nd class Americans,
like Negroes in the south, like Indians here -
You'll be 2nd class Americans because
you were never 1st class Canadians in the first place --"
Everybody stiffened.
"Okay," he said,
"I'll buy the beer and shut up."
But after a few seconds he couldn't keep quiet.
"Anybody ever hear of the San Juan Islands?
No, I guess not. Well, Canada got gypped there.
Anybody know about the Alaska Panhandle deal,
or remember the Herbert Norman case, by any chance?
Well, I'm tellin you, this country is being taken
like a glass of beer. It's a matter of economics.
And none of you guys really gives a damn,
Just slop your beer and wait to be taken
by some big bellied American in Washington.
And I'm tellin you, they're all greedy bastards-!"
"I like Americans." someone said mildly,
and it seemed just by chance his arm lifted,
meeting checked shirt's arm in the middle of the table.
That was all it needed:
"Okay, loud mouth, let's see you put me down!"
They call it "arm wrestling" some places:
and the yellow beer jiggled as clasped hands
pushed on elbow fulcrum - everyone watching
The guy in the checked shirt was drunk
and the other guy more or less sober,
so it shouldn't have been much of a contest.
Their arms strained like two-thirds of a tripod,
and checked shirt put on the pressure,
"I'm tellin you they're bastards-!"
The other guy was big but he collapsed quick,
knocking over a glass of beer and the salt shaker.
"Just shows you," checked shirt said,
looking around the table. He started to go.
"I gotta be gettin back. Be seein ya-"
"You been huntin?" somebody asked.
"That's right, up near Bancroft. Takin back a nice buck."
"Where ya from?
Checked shirt grinned.
"New York," he said.
Al Purdy
fr: 'The Cariboo Horses.'
Friday, February 11, 2005
Please Don't Hurt Me, I'll Be a Better Canadian, I Promise..
You know that you're getting to know individual Americans waaaaay too well when you find you can only watch one of Canada's highest viewer draw shows, Talking to Americans, for fifteen minutes before you start feeling kind of disgusted and choose to turn it off.I couldn't link to the right spot in another explanatory post and so am excerpting most of it below (with some links added by me to help out with the less obvious things - just in case):
The idea behind the segment is really stunningly simple. A man (Rick Mercer) with a microphone goes to someplace in the States and talks to people. The point: find out what we can make Americans believe.
A typical segment will have Rick Mercer stopping people and asking them questions such as, “Have you heard that Canada has just legalized staplers?” Or, “Can you tell me what’s on the Canadian flag?” (Answers: a beaver, a hockey symbol, some sort of leaf thing or something, it’s the Union Jack, Canada has a flag?) Or, “What do you think about Canada getting a navy, considering that we do not have access to the ocean?” (note: we have the longest shoreline in the world) Or, “Great news! Canada finally has running water/electricity/indoor toilets?”
The greatest thing is that not only are everyday people on the street horribly gullible, but this guy can get major American politicians on camera saying incredibly stupid things. The newly elected President George W. Bush was pleased that Canadian Prime Minister Jean Poutine had sent his congratulations. The first governor that he got on camera was the governor of Arkansas. The governor sent his encouragement to the Canadians who were valiantly trying to save our igloo parliament buildings (which were exact ice replicas of the ones in Arkansas) from melting by encasing the whole lot in a gigantic dome.
But not only does Rick Mercer talk to major politicians and people on the street, but to professors at places like Harvard and Yale. These supposedly knowledgeable people look like idiots in a very short matter of time.
The note above is about a previous show, but you get the point When will Russia stop bombing Chechnya and Saskatchewan? Should we send the troops in if ..... threatens to bomb the mall in West Edmonton? Did you know Canada just legalized insulin! Built their first University! Can't figure out what to name the season that lasts all July and August and just makes the whole country dark! (Canadark won that one). Although, one guy said, "Call it the Montreal Canadiens." Which was funny as hell.
And I have to admit, Rick comes up with some pretty funny scenarios and he's an admirable comedian but..back when I was 12... I spent a couple weeks in Oregon convincing the schoolkids in our host city of Corvallis that up here left was right and right was left and that we didn't know what swimming was but called what they seemed to be describing frolicking.
Believe you me, it got old pretty damn quick.
And, again, I was twelve. I'm a fan of good humor as much as the next guy but there is a fine line between humor and "FUCK, YOU'RE A MORON!! ON NATIONAL TV! OH, WASSA MATTA, YA BIG BABY, CAN'T YA TAKE A JOKE?"
Has anyone learnt that making other people look ignorant and stupid isn't humor but juvenile cruelty? That people who are embarrassed like that tend to hold grudges and will hurt you as soon as they have the chance? How do we know that George didn't hate Canada for four years and take three years to thank us for helping out during 9/11 because we made him look like a COMPLETE ASS all across the country. Do you think no one noticed? No one told him? No one played the clip for him and 800 of his closest advisors? Repeatedly?
Who's fault is it that Canadians are taught about the US and vice NOT versa? Who really cares about those polite northern nobodies? How much time do Americans spend picking on us? I doubt it's very much. We never make a fuss so there's no reason to know anything about us. The US does and so we ALL know something about it. Maybe that's a good strategy, know it but don't be nice or get too close to it - someone may notice, and maybe with the US being the main target these days, that will save our country, or maybe, it will be our doom.
Even if we changed our minds, it's a bit late NOW, don't you think? Or is it?
I've got enough to worry about, enough horror and sadness to overcome and enough desire to live a happy and tolerant life where I follow my dreams while not crushing anyone else's. My days are pretty full, thanks, cause sometimes it takes everything I have inside of me to treat people the way I want them to treat me.
This may be horribly unpatriotic but I'm not willing to die for anyone's country. Not even my own.
And maybe, I've just talked myself right around and into a little bit of pride of self for turning the TV off. Maybe you think this reaction is a bit extreme for a simple little comedy show. Regardless of it's popularity, --in 2001, Rick made Canadian television history by creating and co-producing the one-hour CBC special Rick Mercer's Talking to Americans, which attracted 2.7 million viewers across the country making it the highest rated comedy special in the history of the CBC--
But, small things sometimes have big consequences and sometimes I think about these things, as I think we all should.
Oh, shit, I think hear the men in black knocking on the door, I'll see you guys after the 'debriefing'. Pray for me.
Heyyyy, Nice Package
I just received a bunch of information from Earthwatch and it came wrapped in a large plastic bag. Exciting, hey?Okay, so my point is - the bag was added by the post office and on it there is a notice which says...
The enclosed item of mail was either received in this condition or damaged during it's processing. We sincerely regret this unfortunate incident and any incovenience caused.
We are always concerned when mail entrusted to our care is damaged, and we have made considerable improvements to reduce such incidents in our operations.
The Post Office takes a lot of heat these days, even with reduced mail volume, and they do a pretty decent job of it, really, when you think about it. Which is why I'm not too arsed about damage.
Except, it's a little strange because my package was actually slit open neatly. Just sort of like someone wanted to read it.
What a strange type of damage, don't you think?
Equally disconcerting but no more understandable is finally receiving my offer package from work. Except it contains no offer letter. Some nifty benefits and a union card I have to sign because I am, apparantly, now "a regular employee". Strange that, I don't even know how much I make. Or when my vacation is. Or even how much vacation I get. Sick time?
Do you think it's possible they 'just forgot' to officially ask me to be an employee?
No word on the mortgaging front either.
And yes, I woke up without hot water again. It's not so much being without it, it doesn't piss me off - well, it does but only for a minute because there's no one really to be mad at. It's the waking up at 5:30 am and laying in bed and anticipating a hot shower and...then.not.getting.it.
Thank god it's finally the weekend and I can spend it alone. Alone. Alone. Recovering my sense of humor and regrouping for another week.
There is a bike auction at the firehall tomorrow (all those crack-addict kids they've confiscated stolen bikes from or something) and I want a bike. Except I am not yet in a position to spend money. Cause I don't yet have any. And since my high school sweetheart is a fireman at that station I think I may skip it.
It's just such a dilemma - maybe I'll be so STINKY I'll get a free shower from the firehoses (ooohhh, imagine the water pressure though, sheer heaven!) or there really is a reason the HSS (high-school sweetheart) is not showing up for drinks with the rest of us and it's absolutely heartless of me to show up at his work.....
Always that six-of-one, half-a-dozen of the other, hey?
lyric at post:
..if I hear you knocking hard up on my door
ain't no way that I`m gonna answer it..color>
Thursday, February 10, 2005
I'm Just So.... Blank, Today
So, instead, I have some words found, courtesy of the lovely Diana.1.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I fall in.
I am lost .... I am helpless.
It isn't my fault.
It takes forever to find a way out.
2.
I walk down the street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I pretend that I don't see it.
I fall in again.
I can't believe I am in this same place.
But, it isn't my fault.
It still takes a long time to get out.
3.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I see it is there.
I still fall in ... it's a habit ...
but, my eyes are open.
I know where I am.
It is my fault.
I get out immediately.
4.
I walk down the same street.
There is a deep hole in the sidewalk.
I walk around it.
5.
I walk down another street.
Wednesday, February 09, 2005
Equilibrium is a Tricky Thing
Seriously, I'm trying to stop with the big honking posts, I am. I just (as usual) have too much to say.Today was one of those days where absolutely everything went wrong - right from the get-go. It's saving grace may have just been that it wasn't only me that couldn't metaphorically take two steps without tripping over an invisible lump in the linoleum like a complete asswipe, it was everyone else too. That's unusual. Unusual enough to be treasured, at least while I wasn't angry as all get out.
I get those horoscope thingys delivered, I'm slightly ashamed to admit, every evening about 11 pm for the next day. This one for today, however, showed up, 12 hours late, at 10:52 am. Scant minutes after my new job drove me to tears of frustration and sheer and utter rage for the first time.
It may be hard for you to get a handle on things today, JENNIFER, as your focus seems to jump from one subject to the next without finding any resolution from the first. Today is not a day to find a solution. You are better off researching, asking questions, and gathering facts. Keep your channels of communication open and don't try to pin anyone down for a solid answer. You will accomplish a great deal by keeping things active and light.
I don't know about active and light but I did a lot of questioning. You see, my job is extremely complicated and convoluted and chock full of 'exception to the rules'. I've learnt lightning fast and so they have begun to assume I know what I'm doing. HO HO, NOT SO. On any given order, I'm missing one crucial piece of information that someone has just forgotten to mention and I don't know enough to be asking about. Up until this morning, it was nothing that I couldn't talk my way out of.
But, in my more rational not knee-jerk analysis - everyone's busy, everyone's stressed, they all had a tougher time in the beginning than I'm having due to the circumstances at the time and I need to breathe a little and cut them some slack. I'm good with that (well, after the first hour of utter spaz, until I calm down - although I've been getting better with that). I understand. Even though it's my ass hanging out there in the wind.
Let's just take a sec though, to consider the following - the girl who's been there for 7 years cried every night for the first year, the girl who's been there for two, every night for the first 6 months AND due to a union issue I make exactly the same amount of money as they do. Both of them. In fact, as a contractor, since I started in November, I've been making $2.50 an hour MORE. (So, really, it took 2 and a half months to make me cry, I should be proud of that.) Plus, it's five women. Picture that, just for a moment. No worries, I'll wait.
Five women. Too much work. Some serious addition of one, two, three, four, five interaction scenarios. (I saw an analysis of the breakdown of a group in low numbers that I so have to find to back that part up - so scary, so true)
You're afraid, yes? Palms all sweaty?
But wait - I'm the youngest of the four 'older' (in experience AND years) remaining members, ack! Add two who are in the middle of menopause. Blend in one whose husband is dying of bone cancer.
My shit's nothing compared to the collective problems of my department. With everything else that's been going on since November, I'll bet you're as suprised as me that they've asked me to become permanent.
Or maybe, I just fit right in.
side note: you know, sometimes I'm utterly floored that we function as well as we do - have blogs helped that? helped people to deal, talk about it and move on? Or ultimately do they make it something we continue to just carry around but in a more permanent way? I think we'd all say that it depends upon the person - a 'case by case' basis, but there MUST be a general consensus - if not among the press, at least among bloggers like me who 'write their lives' as opposed to those who 'make up' a life or don't mention their real life at all.
It would have been nice, however, today, if someone had taken up the mantle of leadership and made the call I should not have been the one to make. And cry during.
I can say *that* for the simple fact that once upon a time I did that. It was my job to protect and back up my staff, to take the heat, to handle the big stuff so they could get the work done. And I did it. I didn't like it sometimes but I was in a position to calm people who couldn't be calmed, to offer things the staff couldn't offer, to carry a title the staff didn't have the inherent authority of. It would be nice to expect the same in return, no matter how much stress everyone's under. Even if it's the simple fact that I'm the new freakin' employee.
I'm just saying.
You guys missed something because I've been sobbing and carrying a kleenex in my jumper sleeve since you met me, but I battled and survived the big C there without telling mostly anyone and with a small amount of tears - as well as many other things in my life. This year, I don't know, I lost the dog and even at the mere thought of losing her, I became a vale of tears. That has continued and been reinforced by the stress of the last few months and I can only now, after more than a year, see the end of this tunnel of tears. I think that in a big way, today reinforced that feeling.
And, as I said before, maybe the blog is attractive in it's ability to drag it out. Although I don't see it that way, most of the time.
Anyways, my day didn't get much better after that and was topped off, finally, by the Tour funding going tits-up due to a "won't negotiate on a property less than 800 square feet."
Since I own a large one-bedroom, I wonder what the population of cities like Toronto and Vancouver do, when most of their real estate is outrageous and small.
My condo is 655 sq feet. But I also own a separate title to a parking spot (gold in downtown, yes?) which is 156 square feet. They didn't count it and we're not sure if it's because it was missed or if it was because they DON'T count it.
Another day. Wait. ooooh, nope. Wait.
It was one of those days that, coming home, joking about having 'mad cow' for dinner - wouldn't have surprised me if tomorrow I woke up with a fever and the stark raving even-more-nutbar hallucinations.
However, the hot water heater is fixed !!! Yes!!!! A week - no hot water. I'm drooling. But that's okay! I have hot water!
I took the cat down to the beach. I miss my dog -ergo, the cat's gonna need to learn to go for walks. Especially since he's been kicking the shit out of the cats in the 'hood. No one is more shocked than me since even the feared and loathed nail clipping has never resulted in 'claw' mode. Ever.
The beach, close to my house. The beach. Ahhhhhh.
It was a beautiful day and nothing felt so good as walking out of the building and cranking the Betsy-stereo all the way home.
I'm having a glass of wine right now. Finishing this post. Ignoring possible sad / frustrating-making emails from M2, who's been asked to PFO. Having a shower. A long, hot shower. Watching LOST!
Then, maybe, if I have any energy left at all, I may go out and tip a cow. Not because it's actually possible (no matter how funny the concept) but because I live in a place where I wake up in the morning to cows MOOOING, donkeys HEEHAWING, crows CAWING to defend their territory (the landlady feeds them - they're good watchdogs), roosters CROWING, that bloody great bullfrog CROAKING, my cat SNORING in my face while sheep stand right underneath my bed and express their extreme displeasure at the dawn.
It's all in the balance, kids.
Tuesday, February 08, 2005
...And Brilliant 'Nessa
Malcolm Lowry week became a kind of guessing game, with Vanessa coming up with a concept that I'd not thought of - a line from each poem to tell my story.Not suprisingly, the end result is utter brilliance and must be immortalized. (i've added punctuation ...apologies, but it's the *flow* of the thing)
Malcolmstein's Monster:
There is no path, there is no path at all.
A loom of fate
for hope which never ventured up so high
as life's deception,
and yet this evening is my jail.
Strangely unkind
seem all new landmarks of the now and here,
crowded with holiday makers
is the past ----
help me to write.
Etymology: French chaudière kettle, contents of a kettle, from
One of the things that I had introduced Matt to - along with flights in Cessnas, fine tequila, how to make scrambled eggs, facials, manicures, and tons of other amazing things that should have enriched his life - was New England Clam Chowder.Mundane, I know. But he insisted that he'd never seen it before, couldn't get it in Aus and even further, absolutely loved it and would be sad that he couldn't have it any more.
A couple weeks ago, whilst grocery shopping, I bought some to ship out to Aus for him.
Today I took it to work and ate it for lunch.
Make of that what you will.
lyric at post:
..I took a ride to meet the enemy to end all the madness
and now i know that I'll be fine..color>
Short & Snappy Drive-By Post #15
Such a Smart Little Boy
I'm sorry, but this absolutely killed me. *snort* *tee hee* *giggle* lyric at post:
..we stayed in the bars along Charing Cross Road
we never saw nothin' but brass taps and oak
kept a shine on the bar with the sleeves of our coats..color>
Monday, February 07, 2005
What Price, Vanity?
A couple of years ago I'd started sort of poking about looking for information on how to get rid of the spider veins on my face. It's not an aging thing with me - I've had them since I was 19 or so. It's hereditary. I have that 'British skin' of my mothers, etc, etc. It's never gotten any worse over the years but I always figured it would be nice to get rid of them someday.It's not a huge issue and about as noticeable when I have a tan as when I don't. They make me look a little like I have a mask on, but whatever, yanno? Rosy cheeked girl.
It makes me look healthy. Or like I'm Consumptive and one of the chic ill. Frankly, it's a toss-up as to which I care about less.
One of the girls I work with went in to have a consultation about having her brown spots removed (like my raccoon patches, - which are fading despite the fact I forget the cream at least 75% of the time - except her doctor told her the bleaching cream was 'unstable' and she needed lasers).
I figured, hey whatthehell, it's a half hour off work. In the "Laser Centre", I 'consulted' with a nurse. Not the doctor - you don't get to see him until he comes in to roast your skin off.
(I know, I know, it's pulses of light, but I appreciate the imagery much better when using words like fry and scorch and PEEL).
The nurse shows me pictures of all the staff. Cause, yanno, they're 'updating the books' although what this means, I am quite unsure of.
Now, of course the staff have all been broiled because, unlike hairdressers who seem to be allowed to have terrible fucking hair, they need to look good to the patients coming in.
I explained to the nurse that I'd like to have the one inch by one inch area (see below, bad pic but the best I've got) containing the spider veins lasered and that was all I was interested in.
(You mean the little stress-related and perfectly reasonable blackheads punctuated by that one pimple caused by my - sorry boys - period?)
"And what about all those large pores? she continues....
Not taking no for an answer she proceeded to recommend that they sear off ALL the skin on my face. Minimum FIVE treatments, once every three weeks.
It's only $2,300 plus GST (7% goods and services 'just-for-a-couple-years' tax they introduced in Canada in 1997)
No LADY, just tell me how much it is for the veins.
$750.00 plus GST.
But that's just one session. They're pretty severe (???) so you'll probably need TWO.
Good news though. The second session is only $375.00 plus GST.
So, $1203.75
You're actually better off to get your whole face charred for less than double. And yeah, the nurses look great but I'm thinking they get a discount as well as 'you're too ugly we may have to fire you' threats around the coffee machine.
Now, don't get me wrong - lasers are amazing and we are thankful for the people who operate them. But we're on the Island of Dr. Moreau here. OH, I MEAN, the Island of the Massive Mark-Up. My apologies.
Two years ago, I called the place down the street from me in Calgary, to check up on the very same thing. It was $250 a session. (ie: two sessions, if needed, $535.)
Expressing my dismay at the horrific arrogance of these people, I was gently informed by my coworkers that I'd been spoiled by living in the big city and that things were cheaper there to compensate for the cold cold winters.
Spoiled? Compensation for winter?
Who are you, where are we going and how the fuck did I get in this handbasket with you?
And in the 'forewarned is forearmed' category, tomorrow is the day I find out if the funding for Airborne Pathojen Tour 2006™ comes through. I'm not sure how many more hits I can take right now so keep your fingers crossed. As well as any other flexible parts of your body (but I don't want to know, thanks)
lyric at post:
..there may not
be another way to your heart..color>
Monday Bumper Sticker #6
The opposite of love is, I think, indifference. But....
anyways, shall we?
Sunday, February 06, 2005
Past the 5' Mark - Into the Shallow End of the Pool
On friday night I dreamed that the landlords were building a pool. Last night I dreamt that I had one at my posh house, where Peter Gallagher was my dad and I missed the family dinner at my sister's because I was having sex with Ben Mackenzie.I watch too much TV.
Anyways, dandy dream guide tells me swimming pools are:
It's 8 pm and I'm exhausted, as well as chilled -continuing to be hot water free and so I'm going to hit the featherbed. 'night.
lyric at post:
..and liberty she pirouette
when I think that I am free..color>
Saturday, February 05, 2005
How Great is ...
this? Enamored. Fascinated. I could watch it forever.Alright, I'm UP, Dammit
I was dreaming of that last week away with Matt, except we were late checking out and I was frantically packing. Except I was packing everything of my own, including all my books which now live in the cabinets above the couch.I opened my eyes to a cat asleep. Facing me, head on my pillow, eyes on a level with my eyes, paw curled up on the pillow in front of him. Curled unnaturally so, like a hand bent over at the wrist to rest under a chin. Waking up when I do to stretch out his arms and yawn like a little boy.
Seems I do have a boyfriend after all.
Right now he is sitting beside me, half draped over my leg and watching me type - I can see his eyes moving. Do you think he knows I'm talking 'bout him?
Anyhoo, I looked up "packing" in my dandy dream dictionary....
The washing machine wasn't working last week (something else which I don't pay for) so now that's fixed I am taking care of two weeks worth of laundrey, boiling water to wash dishes and borrowing the neighbor's shower.
Below, the final Malcolm, including links so (if you like) you can read them all in order without having to search about. Later, I shall be back with the post I wrote after my week 'off', which is about well, the things I thought through on my week off, and is a kind of 'companion' piece to the poetry. Just not as succinct.
lyric at post:
..in our lives
love has hid her face to save her heart from breaking
into feeling..color>
...A Story Ends
With the Barest Glimpse of An Anticipated Future
Rilke and YeatsHelp me to write.
Show me the gates
Where the orders are,
And the cage
My soul stares at,
Where my courage
Roars through the grates.
Monday
Tuesday
Wednesday
Thursday
Friday
Friday, February 04, 2005
The Very Beginning
My First Posts Ever, Handcoded
Sunday, August 17, 2003feeding frenzy
it's not others I fear.
i'm afraid of myself,
i'm afraid of my own thoughts
turned back on themselves.
i could tear myself apart
in a frenzy of self-doubt,
leaving only shreds of quivering tissue
to mark my place in this world
when all else is done and gone.
Sunday, August 17, 2003
here, now
One of My Three Wishes
Jen,also, Vanessa, and Sal.In a room. In a pub, maybe. The back room, near the dartboard.
Jen with a beer, Sal and a big honking cider, Vanessa with a idontevenknow - a something, a port?
Around a chipped and wobbly table - Jen is trying to stuff a matchbook under the leg for stability, Vanessa's got her feet on it - using them for emphasis. Sal, a little overwhelmed but not at a loss for words, our Sal - bumping his knees on the underside.
Laughing, roaring, leaning in, whispering, engaged, intent, yelling, poking fingers into chests to make a point, shouting out for another drink.
Can't you picture it? Wouldn't that be the best goddamn thing?
lyric at post:
..may the good lord be with you down every road you roam
and may sunshine and happiness surround you when you're far from home
and may you grow to be proud, dignified, and true
and do unto others as you would have done to you..color>
And Do Unto Others
I think that life is more precious than we'll ever comprehend and I'd be the last person to ever disagree with that. But sometimes, one life is not worth all of the ones it infects, all of the people it hurts and all of the generational ramifications of it's actions.Someone may be offended by this, but, I think, if you knew what I know, you would agree with me that the world is now a little bit of a better place.
Do me a favor, pal, don't rest in peace.
...A Story About In and Through
Listen. Listen.
A New ShipLike the black iron steps
leading from some aerial footway
flung over road and lines down at the dockside
crowded with holiday makers
is the past ----
and evermore my mind climbs down that stair
to find, below, the selfsame wharf, despair.
But one day a new ship is waiting there.
Just The Facts, eh?
Fighting Cancer
I never actually noticed these things while I was smoking lo, these last 23+ years. Two and a half of which were AFTER my lung cancer diagnosis and treatment....before you freak out, let me just say that if you are upset by the above comment then you're probably a non-smoker cause smokers understand that there just ain't no quitting, no 'scared straight', no qualms about smoking through a hole in your throat (let's be honest, here).
I have vowed never to become a militant and rabid anti-smoker ex-smoker but although I fully advocate scare tactics as a deterrent, as well as a reinforcement for those who have already quit I also know that nothing, but nothing, I mean, NOTHING is going to make you successfully quit until you're ready to. And I'll tell you this - you just don't know when 'ready' is. It's a delicate balance of trying / wanting /readiness that's impossible to predict. But, then you can look at something like the stats below, reinforce your tortuous months and be all smug, while secretly and fervently wishing for just one more.
THE ODDS
At current rates, 38 per cent of Canadian women and 43 per cent of men will develop some form of cancer. Most likely this will happen later in life. About 23 per cent of women and 28 per cent of men -- or almost one in four Canadians -- will die from the disease. (that's roughly eight million of the people I live in this country with right now)
THE BIG ONES
Along with prostate cancer in men and breast cancer in women, lung and colorectal cancers in both sexes comprise 50 per cent of all new cases each year. Breast and prostate are the most common cancers, but lung cancer remains the most frequent cause of death. For women, the mortality rate is growing at three times what it was in 1975, a result of the huge increase in women smokers from the 1960s to early '80s. Others that are difficult to cure: leukemia, multiple myeloma, and pancreatic, stomach, ovary, brain and esophageal cancer.
Thursday, February 03, 2005
I Need a Ghostwriter and Movie Rights, I Really Do
The hot water heater? Toast.Parts in stock? On THIS island? Ha, you've got to be joking. It's on order though.
Yeah, thanks.
I've lived here for 3 months....
-furnace broken, no heat
-propane out, no heat, no hot water
-pipes frozen, no water
-sewage backed up
I swear, there is not much left that can actually go wrong with this place. *knocks wood*
I hate being without a shower in the morning. HATE.
I walked by the office of someone I work with today and heard her saying, "Seriously, and then her car was towed for no reason and not only did they break the door but they damaged the wheel well AND the hatchback .... I've never seen anyone in my life with such weird shit happening to them, ALL THE TIME."
Bah, they've only known me for three months. They're amateurs. Amateurs, I tells ya.
Really though, you just get used to it.
And good shit happens too. Although, this month is not a good time to ask for a list.
The Malcolm Lowry stuff - it's not about the lovely words and the fabulous way he puts them together (not a happy guy, though, eh?) so much as it's about the tone and feeling of these and how it changes and evolves as they go along from day to day. I know you'll get it. I have faith in you.
...A Story of A Week Away
Malcolm Continues..
The Flowering PastThere is no poetry when you live there.
Those stones are yours, those noises are your mind,
The forging thunderous trams and streets that bind
You to the dreamed-of bar where sits despair
Are trams and streets: poetry is otherwhere.
The cinema fronts and shops once left behind
And mourned, are mourned no more. Strangely unkind
Seem all new landmarks of the now and here.
But move you toward New Zealand or the Pole,
Those stones will blossom and the noises sing,
And trams will wheedle to the sleeping child
That never rests, whose ship will always roll,
That never can come home, but yet must bring
Strange tropies back to Ilium, and wild!
Wednesday, February 02, 2005
Burning Question of the Day
Am I the only one who thinks that eating an entire can of chick peas for lunch IS entirely normal?It's nature's perfect food. Even the cat likes it.
Year of the Rooster
The sign of the Rooster indicates a person who is hard-working and definite about their decisions. Roosters are not afraid to speak their minds and can therefore sometimes come across as boastful. They make good restaurant owners and world travellers.
People born in the Year of the Rooster are deep thinkers, capable, and talented. They like to be busy and are devoted beyond their capabilities and are deeply disappointed if they fail.
People born in the Rooster Year are often a bit eccentric, and often have rather difficult relationship with others. They always think they are right and usually are! They frequently are loners and though they give the outward impression of being adventurous, they are timid. Rooster people's emotions like their fortunes, swing very high to very low. They can be selfish and too outspoken, but are always interesting and can be extremely brave.
Roosters are very loyal individuals. They do not like dishonesty or mockery of any sort. They are blunt, up front and honest people and expect those around them to be the same.
Well, there you have it. Actually quite a bit more accurate than my horoscope. The rest are here. Which one are you?
One more tiny excerpt...
Horses are energetic spouses who fall in love quite rapidly. Along with their spontaneity comes a bit of impatience and they demonstrate that when they meet someone they want to be involved with. They throw all of themselves into a relationship, sometimes losing tiny bits and pieces of themselves along the way. However, a light at the end of the tunnel: in adulthood Horses are more stable and thus their adult relationships are more successful.
...Guess whoooooo? I'll give you three guesses.
The first two don't count.
I swear to god, first song to play:
..the trust of a woman in his hand
but he was a little boy, not a man
you loved him stronger than he could feel
yeah he was wrapped up in himself like an orange peel..color>
...When Meeting Malcolm
He Tells A Story...
NocturneThis evening Venus sings alone
And homeward feathers stir like silk
Like the dress of a multitudinous ghost
The pinions tear through a sky like milk.
Seagulls all soon to be turned to stone
That seeking I lose beyond the trail
In the woods that I and my ignorance own
Where together we walk on our hands and knees
Together go walking beneath the pale
Of a beautiful evening loved the most
And yet this evening is my jail
And policemen glisten in the trees.
Tuesday, February 01, 2005
I Yearn For the Truth...
The First Time
(beware: mortgagey things, which has given me a rash)Fact: I require (between paying off debt, a Canada-tanks shit-that's-my-mortgage nest-egg, a couple ME things and enough travelling money for 7 months) roughly $35,000 for the Airborne Pathojen 2006™ tour. And considering we all know I'm right fucking behind in everything at this point, let's say I can catch up the worst stuff by March 1... just for the sake of argument.
So, $35,000, ten months. Yessiree, I did say 10 months. Not factoring in whatever I can sell that I have left to sell by then.
By living the way I am (RV, low bills, very low bills, no more cigarettes at 8 bucks a pack, a library card and you), I can save $1100 a month. Unbelievable, I know.
So, that's..... er..... $11,000.
My Astrology Zone horoscope for February says...
You have become a lean, mean money machine. When have I ever said that, dear Cancer? Not lately, that's for sure! But you've never had aspects as stunning as those on tap this month, either! This same eighth house that is so lucky for you also rules money from insurance companies, legal settlements and divorce proceedings, so you may benefit this month through one of those areas. Have I not named an area that seems a likely source of gain? There are others to consider. This part of your chart rules windfalls, so you might win a glorious prize (buy raffle tickets!) or receive a lavish gift.
Since this is a house that rules "two-some" money, you may also benefit financially in an outstanding way from your spouse. Or, you may clean up as a result of work your agent or representative does for you now. Teamwork will really pay off this month!
The eighth house rules other kinds of funds, too. If you apply for a mortgage, refinancing plan, venture capital, bank loan, or tax refund, you may be pleased with the results. Or, you may be the recipient of an inheritance. All are favored now.
Today, armed with the absolutely outrageous quote from my current bank (to whom I pay $30-40 a month in account fees but who have been incredible, although I think it's time to divorce them) and it's monthly interest rate of 6 to 7.1, I trotted off to see a nice man known as a mortgage broker today.
Expressing my shock (I know, I'm so freaking naive) that my very own bank (Credit Union, three employees) would send such shitty rates, My LMB (lovely mortgage broker) explained the whole, but you need to call them and then negotiate and they might still give you a shitty rate and so then you shop around while lowering your credit rating everytime someone checks it theory.
Seriously, can we just not be a little more honest?
I've been told I'm a little too honest but jeebus, middle ground, people, middle ground thisiswhatswrongwiththeworldIMHO.
Also, apparantly, as an evil landlord I must now have something known as a rental property mortgage, which - wouldn't ya just know it - lowers the percentage you can get for an equity take out. And jacks the CMHC insurance rate to a whopping 4pointsomething percent. (ie: put 15,000 on my mortgage, pay $5,000 of it for insurance).
LMB advised against that.
I'm surprised he didn't also advise against applying for that gun licence I've been putting off.
To cut an even longer story short - I switch only what's owing to someone 'nicer' for a variable prime minus 2.75 or something for the first 6 months and then minus .357 or something after that (for god's sake, I understand none of this shit), take the $1,000 cash back they offer (god knows why) and then apply for a second mortgage for the rest of it.
A second mortgage. Cause the first one's not good enough, I suppose.
Does any of this make any sense to any of you cause I can sure as hell tell ya, the rash gets nastier as I type.
And all that rigamorale puts me $9,000 short.
Hopefully, my slap-dash-dandy financial buddy-old-pal in Calgary can invest what's left after I pay the credit card debt off for a good rate. Second job, anyone? Trade the car in for a motorbike, after all? Eat food that doesn't require propane for cooking?
Someone better die so my horoscope comes true. Although the sheer panic of the thought of not getting any money at all was pretty nasty. And, yes I know some of you lovely helpful people will want to tell me the 400 ways that are better but, due to someone who utterly shredded my life 11 years ago, my options are limited. But I appreciate the thought. I do. Have you made a will yet?
Tomorrow, another installment of the Malcolm.
I'm going out to off someone. If I can find someone who's leaving me money, that is, cause I don't think I can cut anymore corners out here in the boonies. And don't say internet, cause I don't pay for it, nyah, nyah.
And oh, right... I was waiting on the money thing before telling you that ..I'm leaving North America the week of January 7th, 2006.color>
You've been warned. Don't blame me if you're still in the country when my plane touches down.
Poetry's Not Literal And Yet,
There is A Method to My Malcolm...
For the Love of DyingThe tortures of hell are stern, their fires burn fiercely.
Yet vultures turn against the air more beautifully
than seagulls float downwind in cool sunlight,
or fans in asylums spin a loom of fate
for hope which never ventured up so high
as life's deception, astride the vulture's flight.
If death can fly, just for the love of flying,
What might not life do, for the love of dying?
