Thursday, March 31, 2005
Away Message
I Haven't Had A Bath Since December 12
I'm used to having one every night, for almost all of my life. It was sort of my wind-down book-reading relaxation time and it's always been an important ritual for me. For the last few years I'd stir up masses of bubbles and draw the green shower curtain across, trapping the heat and giving my little space a soothing emerald glow. Because Lacey was deaf, every 10 minutes or so this little nose would come snuffling and nudging along the edge of the curtain to break through beside my head and eyeball me to make sure I was okay. I would turn my head, kiss her on that nose and she would turn to go back out and lay on the couch for another ten minutes.Now, I no longer have a bathtub nor do I have the dog. I miss those days.
The last bath I had was in the big claw foot soaker tub on the island and Matt was in it with me. I miss those days, too.
Strangely enough, I miss the dog more. In a different way, yes, but I think, at the core, it's still more. Maybe because she is dead and gone and Matt is just gone. Maybe because she never would have left me and he did. Maybe because losing her was my choice and losing Matt wasn't. I don't know and I guess it really doesn't matter.
If you haven't been around for long, you probably wouldn't know that I sent my dog to follow Tanys a couple of weeks later and yes, next week, there'll be a post about that. But these last couple weeks have been hard on me, surrounded by death's anniversaries, the fiscal year end rush at work and the anger in this place. I need to get away from here.
We know I don't go out much but this weekend I need to be around people who are nothing but excited for me. I need to be with people who unconditionally love me as much as I love them. Not people who say,
All these questions are fine and dandy - I know I have to deal with them, but they come from people who just want me to know their (well-travelled? carefully researched?) opinion without knowing what I'm actually trying to do during the time I'm travelling - my goals and aspirations, so to speak. They say they're just playing devil's advocate but when that's all they 'play' it begins to ring a tad untrue. I'm tired of telling myself it's jealousy or worry or... I'm tired, lately, of other people's opinions. Sometimes, I'm tired of my own. And sometimes I just need to be around people who, instead, say things like...
You know, those positive sort of people. It's not a need to have my ego stroked but once in a while, it's nice to know I won't have to defend my every decision and in fact, that it is possible to have someone close to me as excited as I am.
So. Tomorrow, I'm meeting my (little) (half) sister after work to shop, have dinner and maybe catch Pulse at the IMAX afterwards.
I've been promising to go visit Lester one weekend as I haven't seen her since the wedding. So, last night I called to tell her I was bailing on work and coming up on Friday.
Being one of the best, kindest, open-hearted people I know she says, "I was thinking about you the other day, wondering when you'd get your shit together and get up here. I need a break too so I'm glad you're coming. I'm going prawn fishing on Friday morning so if we're not here when you get in, the door's open, there's beer and clam in the garage beer fridge and wine chilling in the house. Whether we're here or not the bathtub's all yours for the first hour."
A little while later, she called (from the tub - she's just like me, ha) to tell me how excited she was that I was coming and that I should bring all my laundrey as well. An added bonus? After five months of a single bed - I also get a room of my own I can actually stand up in and a huge bed. Judging by the continuing "I'm so excited you're coming!!" phone calls, I made the perfect decision.
I'm low maintenance - to me it's a total spa weekend - - a real bed, a bathtub and a wonderful woman who is so close to my heart she's got her own room.
I'll see you guys in a few days.
lyric at post:
..and I am going but I'm gonna come back
and maybe then, maybe this, maybe that..color>
Wednesday, March 30, 2005
Don't Pay The Ferryman
It's a bit of a shock to realize that it's been a year since Tanys unexpectedly left us. In all, I wrote two short posts and one long one that week that were about her. I don't think I ever told you why I thought then it was so important to sit and think about the peripheral people in your life because that request had something to do with her death. But, I'm going to tell you now, because it is still just as important as it was then and she is my reminder - of many things I shouldn't need to be reminded of.Tanys celebrated her 33rd birthday early last March and she woke up a couple of days later with a really bad headache. At the first hospital she went to, they sent her home - take aspirin, wait a couple days etc etc. I don't know the full details of the story because I never asked and frankly, they aren't important but either on her way to or at another hospital soon after, she collapsed and went into a coma. Very soon after, she died.
This boisterous human being so full of life had an aneurysm. Chances are if anyone had found it that the end result would have been no different because that is just the way of those kinds of things.
Her boyfriend Dave, sent me this link to a memorial that her friends put in the paper, which I have stolen and reproduced below.
Tanys.
We did not know that morning that God was going to call your name. In life we loved you dearly, in death we do the same. It broke our hearts to lose you, you did not go alone; for part of us went with you, the day God called you home. You left us peaceful memories, your love is still our guide; and though we can not see you, you are always at our side. Our friendships chain is broken, and nothing seems the same; but as God calls us one by one,
The Chain will link again.
Love Kim and Ellen
And so, again, I ask you to take a minute to think about someone you care for and how they have touched your life. Someone you don't see every day, or even every month, someone who may not even realize that they've given you something you cherish - for this is a sudden and awful reminder that, unexpectedly and for no preventable reason, they may not be here tomorrow.
Tuesday, March 29, 2005
Someone Needs to Turn Off the Blinking Neon Sign Over My
Head
So, there I was, most of the way to work during the morning 'rush' hour, in a driving rainstorm where I am going just as slow as everyone else but about four or five car lengths, maybe more, behind the person in front of me (it keeps the windshield slightly less wet). It's not like anyone's moving any faster than anyone else anyways, in either of the two lanes. Apparantly this did not please the large truck which crawled up my ass and turned it's high beams on.After following like this for about 1/2 a mile, he turned them off and backed down a little at the approach to a light.
As the light turned green, he again got up my ass about 25 metres out of the intersection and turned on his high beams. AGAIN. From 2 feet off my back bumper.
Seriously I'm doing the exact same thing as the fifty cars around me and there's space around me the entire time if he wanted to pass and we're not on a freeway or anything.
So, I thought, fuck you pal, I'm not accelerating for 100 metres until I catch up to everyone and then slowing down again - go around me. or go away. or something.
So, I braked. Abruptly. (Yes I admit it. Wouldn't you have?) And I slowed down a tad more.
Apparantly, me having the balls to indicate that I thought he was being a bit rude angered him even further.
He finally went around me, all right. Then he swerved in front of me, slammed on his brakes and GOT OUT OF HIS TRUCK. Big mofo about my age wearing a baseball cap and a long duster coat, banging on the car and screaming at me about being a stupid bitch and getting out of the fucking fast lane.
Which there isn't. On a STREET. During rush hour.
I'm thinking, jesus pal, you could have changed lanes like a hundred times over the last mile but instead, you chose to ratchet yourself up to FREAKISHNESS. That is not my problem, buddy.
So, I just sat there, behind my locked door, thinking *oh crap, I think I left the cell phone at home*. I'm SO not getting out or rolling down the window or getting into this with some guy who's obviously a bit fucked in the noggin at 7 am. BUT I AM SO NOT TAKING THIS SHIT.
He punched Betsy one more time and stomped back to his big red peni...erm, truck. As he opened his door and turned around to look at me, I gave him the finger.
Guy like that, it'll fuck up his whole week, I bet. ha.
I can't imagine what his passenger thought. But *I* trembled like a leaf for the next 45 minutes.
Most of the people on this island INSIST VEHEMENTLY that they live in paradise. I wonder why they're all so angry about it.
I started to think back over the differences between here and Calgary and it's become quite obvious that the main one is the people. By that I mean the attitude of the people. In the nine years that I was in Calgary I never dealt with this. This kind of anger - a company accusing me (with the BBB as a witness) of violent harassement after two (quite polite) phone calls, what buddy did this morning (I'm sure if he's walking through a room and there's a child in his way, he must just fucking step on it), and I've witnessed countless other small instances of utter blind rage or just plain vindictiveness, even in the last few months I've been here.
It indicates to me that either I'm just a magnet of some sort or it means that there's a difference between the two cities and since I was more stressed out and angry in Calgary than I've been here - I don't think it's me, kids. Sure I attract lots of weird shit, I know, but rage? no, only ever from people here.
You know that stare that people get when they wig out? When they are so angry or something that they get a look on their face like they're disconnected and they don't recognize you? And you think, *oh, shit, here it comes*? I have seen that more times than I can count here. Ever since I was a child.
I saw it *once* in Calgary and that guy was drunk and I know for a fact that he's never done it again. The people here aren't drunk. Maybe they should be, maybe it's too expensive, although frankly I think it's because they believe that Jose Cuervo Gold is the most expensive high-class tequila there is (and that is a serious inbreeding / attitude problem right there).
Sure, Calgary had annoying people and tons of stupid ones as well, but I never saw there the things that I've seen here. Apparantly the road rage here was so bad a few years ago that there were emergency reporting numbers posted on billboards along the highways. I had a friend who had someone follow him into a parking lot, block him in and then chase him with an ax.
I had absolutely no qualms about walking home at 3 am in Calgary, a city of a million people but here? In a city about 320,000? No fucking way. Absolutely not.
You can tell me all kinds of 'economic stressors and rising costs while jobs become more scarce' sort of stories but frankly, that's everyone these days, innit? It just doesn't hold water with me. We deal with an entire hospital of people whom have never been the slightest bit polite to my department in 5 months. I've personally been treated like shit by a minimum of 2 people a day from that fine establishment. The entire staff. It's pathetic.
Someone at work asked me why I didn't write bozo's licence plate number down and call the cops and apart from the whole 'he said, she said' thing which I don't have any energy for, I flashed back on a court case where I was a peripheral witness when I was nineteen. I went to court but never actually had to testify (I was that unimportant) but I was important enough for this guy to come to my work and just watch me, popping his head in when no one was around to tell me he was going to kill me. No, thanks. I know this city. I've relearned my lesson.
It's a strange thing - I'm coming to understand that I thought of this place not very fondly after I left in most part because of that very thing. And I could tell you that that feeling here is one of the reasons I left - Calgary had it's difficult moments sure, but it never felt like this place does. It hasn't gotten better and it seems in fact to have gotten worse.
I guess living in paradise isn't all it's cracked up to be. And I can't wait to finish getting what I want from here so I can make like a baby and head the fuck out.
Monday, March 28, 2005
One..Two..Three ..and.. Reverse
Seriously, I'm glad I have a year to figure the trip out. Sometimes the information is overwhelming and I keep coming across things I didn't think about (all of which cost more money). Yanno, little things - like $2000 a year for insurance and that medi-alert bracelet I've never gotten around to getting.Anyways, whine, whine, I know I can't make you feel sorry for me about this whole thing (doesn't stop me from trying though) and even, some of you may be happy that I've got my second Hep B shot next week (ow ow ow).
I had a point. Oh, yeah - so it's been bugging me that the current flight plan had me hitting Ecuador on the way back, for the simple fact that as a British Citizen - I may not actually be getting past the UK.
I might just -STOP- work and leave to go to countries whose money is utterly worthless and against which the GBP would be like winning the lottery and then come back and work some more. Frankly, that's about anywhere except the EU, you know. Even in Canada it takes 2.3 dollars to buy a GBP.
So, then, Ecuador. FIRST! I did a whole 'time of year' date/timeline and I can actually flip it from behind to front and still make the Bat Research in the Daintree during the 'dry season' - but maybe not the harvest on T3's farm (I'm willing to give up the harvesting of grain and push back the sporting shooting of the 'roos for a little while - I know, it pains me, but it has to be done).
(As if I'd ever shoot a kangaroo - I SAVE WORMS WHEN IT RAINS).
Apart from laying around on my ass in the Andes for a few weeks to recover from this year of preparation, I can spend a couple of months doing some volunteer stuff (HEY! shade-grown coffee plantations! lemme at 'em, give me a shovel!) on a couple of ecological reserves, hit one up in the Amazon and then another in the cloud forest. Cause in places like Ecuador - it's only about $100 a week for room and board as a volunteer working and yanno, it's about doing GOOD! (coooooffffeeeeee)
And, seriously? Look. Look - this is one of the volunteer place accomodations.
You may now re-commence with the nasty jealous thoughts.
Monday Bumper Sticker #12
The Fourth Day of Easter Weekend
Sorry, forgot what day it was. Good thing I remembered around 3 pm that I have to go to work after this next sleep.
Of course, if it was you that just called - making it to the keyboard doesn't mean I'll make it to the phone. jeez.
lyric at post:
..and who can say when the day sleeps,
if the night keeps all your heart?..color>
Sunday, March 27, 2005
Staring Directly At The Wrong Thing
I know that everyone is all over the Terri Schiavo thing, debating, fighting, absorbed, angry. And I feel a little bad when I say that I have no idea what everyone is talking about, because I don't watch the news. I'm aware of it and that's it. I'm sure that would shock some people.I do believe that you are entitled to your opinion. You are not, however, entitled to shove it down my throat and insist that I agree that you are right. And then threaten violence like a spoiled four year old who doesn't get his way. You have no power to tell me what I should be making important in my life and what I shouldn't be. When I turn on the news, that is exactly what I'm seeing. I see no mutual respect. I see no right to privacy. I see no gentleness and care.
I haven't looked into the case until today and even then, I didn't look very hard. I read a few websites who, in effect, told me the same thing Bush did last year - 'if you're not with us, you're against us'. I spent about 30 seconds watching the news as people who know nothing about her screamed terrible things at her family and some fuckwad tried to break into the hospice. Then I turned it off because it makes me sick. The terrible thing, to me, is that it's not this poor woman and her story that makes me sick - it's everyone else, it's "humanity".
I agree with my friend, Jen,also when she says...
"She could very well have every will to live. It's certainly not for me to say. And I don't, anywhere in this post. In fact, I never gave my opinion on her case at all."
I however, am not as gentle as Jen,also. I'm a bit more vocal. And so I will admit that I don't know the whole story. I don't want to know the whole story for the simple and undeniable fact that I don't have an opinion on what "should" be happening to this woman.
I can't have an opinion. Because I don't know what this woman wanted.
And neither does most of her family.
And neither do the courts. Nor the newspapers. Nor the TV news.
And neither do you.
What I do know is that this is happening to people every day all over this planet - who cares about them? I can't care about every single one of them and I doubt you can either.
Care about all or care about none. That's my view. And so, I guess you could say that I don't care about Terri Schiavo. And you'd be absolutely right. In many ways.
But not in all of them. And, so, this is my opinon, this is what I care about...
I care that the only way to make any kind of difference is not to fight and scream and hate about Terri Schiavo but to look inside of our own selves and take care in our own lives - to ensure that this situation is never something we or anyone we love has to face.
Her fate is her fate and that's a sad and terrible thing. But you and I can't really do anything about it - except learn the lesson.
All of the people, in the news, online, in public, of you - how many of us do you think have made a will? Let alone a living will or a DPA? How many are going to go out and do it now? Who learned this lesson? Are 'we' all too busy screaming our rights and our opinions at the world? Where is that going to get us?
We shouldn't be relying on anyone's justice system to make decisions for us. And if you tell me that this is a precedent setting case then I'd say you're a fool because the only precedent this will set is the one where we don't make decisions for ourselves. The one where we could very well be condemning those we love and who love us to the same horrifying decisions her family is trying to make. I don't want to do that to the people I love and I'm going to assume that you don't either.
We should admit our lack of education and our ignorance and do something to change it.
Maybe, instead of screaming and debating and arguing about one woman whom we cannot speak for (and frankly, should stop insisting that we have the right to speak for), we should take responsibility for ourselves. Maybe, we should make our own decisions for our own selves.
And, follow it and argue and debate all you wish but, in the end, regardless of what happens in this case - ask yourself this -
"In the end - do I really want anyone on this earth to make those decisions for me?"
Do you? Do you want this to happen to you? Because that is the only question you need to answer here, that could very well be the lesson that Terri is here to teach us. The sad thing, I think, is that not enough people will learn it. Even sadder, may be what people have chosen to do with it, instead.
So, face your mortality. And deal with it. And leave this poor woman and her family alone.
That is my opinion.
You Made Me Laugh
From Eurotrash...Fed up with skirts hanging off my hips and trousers that need to be belted like a sack, I admit potential weight gain was at the back of my mind when I took the job in America. I thought, well, everyone's fat in America, aren't they? And they go around shooting each other in McDonalds and they can't find Australia on a map.
Don't TELL ME I Can't Do It
I knocked four minutes off my time this morning.I rock.
AND, I saved 8 worms.
Plus, I'm starving and I can SO justify the big honking fried up breakfast I'm about to cook.
lyric at post:
..you're writing your tragedy
these mishaps, your bubble wrap, when
you've no idea what you're like..color>
Saturday, March 26, 2005
Book List
I decided I'm tired of changing the list every day or two so I've just tossed in a few of the ones on deck as well and will update it less often. To save my little delicate typing fingers.This particular list, because it's a rainy long weekend and because I wasn't 'ordering' books on the 'net but just went in and wandered around, is heavier on novels.
Send in the Reinforcements
It started raining last night and according the the 'ol weather network - there's a 90% or better chance till Tuesday that it'll keep on raining and then an 80% or better it'll rain right through to next FRIDAY.Blin asked me last night, "Haven't you sort of noticed that it's rained every Good Friday for the last six or seven years?"
Uh, sweetheart? where I lived for the last NINE years, it snowed. She seems to have forgotten that I haven't been here for quite some time.
The good news about the rain is that I'll more than likely get my taxes done, apply for a few part time jobs and clean out some of the reams of paper in here. I also need to spend more time online to decipher which citizenship I should be using for what country, although for most it seems it doesn't matter so far, except New Zealand which likes the British more than the Canadians.
The one really frustrating thing I cannot find is that Australia keeps insisting that I must have 'proof of sufficient funds to provide a financial means to support my stay' but nowhere on any of the 25 or so websites I searched last night did they say anything other than that - ie: noone told me HOW MUCH. arg. NZ is $1,000 a month and Indonesia is 1,000 pounds (I can't be arsed to find the pound key, sorry), which is funny because that's about $900 CDN for NZ and $3,200 CDN for Indonesia. Seems a bit bass-ackwards. Also, I'm a little annoyed that a 60 day visa has to be used within three months of issuance - which will be a little difficult to get from a camper van in Australia, not to mention the 'loss' of my passport while they decide. arg.
The bad news is I can't get any exercise and because I read a book on Thursday night and two new ones yesterday, I only have two books left for three days of rain and so I am finishing my coffee and wading outside to follow the 'gentle' directive of the voice in my head screaming, "Calamity! Calamity! Get thee to the library! Quickly! Post haste! Tout de Suite! The sky is falling! NOW!"
lyric at post:
..even the best fall down sometimes
even the wrong words seem to rhyme
out of the doubt that fills my mind
I somehow find you and I collide..color>
Friday, March 25, 2005
Breathe, Baby, Breathe
I had ordered a mountain bike a couple weeks ago - the walking's fine but I need to build the cardio, yanno?Anyways, it's being shipped blah blah blah and so inevitably I did not receive it in time for the four day weekend.
Sometimes, I think that I never should have quit smoking for somehow it seems that every once in a while it causes me to do something foreign to my basic lazy nature and utterly insane, to boot.
At 8:15 this morning, I was walking / jogging a 2.5 km (1.5 miles) loop around the 'hood. It was mostly walking, which is fine when you're transitioning from walking to running but normally the problem you're trying to avoid is injury to yourself by pushing too hard and too fast.
The problem with me of course is not that I'm not physically (muscle tone, body part-wise) able to do it - I'm strong, even when I'm not taking care of myself. I always have been and even now, I'm not carrying any extra weight - the problem is ... I can't breathe.
23 years of smoking and further diminished lung capacity will do that to you, I guess. I started smoking when I was 12 and as far as I can remember that was probably the last time I ran. I remember gym class in Grade 10 - the runs we did around the neighborhood and those runs hurt, I couldn't breathe then either.
But - it frustrates the SHIT out of me and I'll tell you why.
It's not because I'm impatient and it's not because I'm not willing to work my way up to a better fitness level.
It's not because I don't think that every day will get a little easier.
It's not because I don't realize that I'm the one who's fault it is that I can't breathe.
Just for a minute, though, can you think back back back and remember what it was like before we got older and didn't eat right and starting smoking and drinking? Back to when you were, say, 9 years old? Back when you could just gogogo all day and not get tired? When you left the house at 10 am and just went all day long, until it was dusk and you were still flat out and playing street hockey and your mother was screaming your name down the street?
Do you remember how good it felt? Back when you ran and took the ease of it for granted, back when it was just plain right and you flew? That the fundamental difference between walking and running just wasn't something you even cared about? How your body worked the way it was supposed to and all was perfect with the world?
I'm frustrated because my body feels that rightness. It suprises me for it's not something I expected at all. But my body - it runs and it's effortless and it feels like heaven. I could run until I ran out of earth to run on but the betrayal I perpetrated upon my own self shuts it all down and I have no choice but to stop and let that feeling go. 80% of me is readyreadygogo and the other 20% is so far behind it feels like it will never recover. It wouldn't be so bad, I think, if I had to stage up *everything* gradually instead of starting, here, with such an unbalanced body.
But I tore down that body. I didn't appreciate it's beauty and the flawless perfection of it until I had destroyed it. No matter what I do, I will never live in that body again.
This morning it felt only like so much homesickness.
Thursday, March 24, 2005
You Have Something I Want. Give It To Me. NOW.
Or:
The More Things Change, The More They Stay The Same
Suddenly, today, the Canadian Military has something I want.Different, of course, than what I wanted from them, long ago, when I was in my early 20's, young and impressionable.
And innocent.
(okay, it was worth a try. sheesh.)
What I wanted so long ago (and may or may not have gotten) might have been something along the lines of shitloads of constantly changing transient in-shape well-built boymen with crisp new haircuts who possessed easy access to 35 cent shots, moose-milk parties (3rd post), and tax-free cigarettes.
Actually.... on second thought ......
*snort* I kill me. You'll just have to wait, though, to find out what it is.
As well, a Happy Happy Birthday to Sipes, the most wonderful Cdn Forces "Too Fat To Fly" Boys of them all - cause the two messages I left this morning just.weren't.enough. He's been a staunch and true friend since the first 'crisis' during which he met me in September of 1989 and through countless many more since, in all these years.
lyric at post:
..I got watchewan right here ba-by--
watchin' everything that you do
and you saw me, now you're watching me too..color>
Wednesday, March 23, 2005
Oh, it's soooo a long weekend soon
The people at the BBB told me to send my response to them. *sigh* I'm sure I'll have an update in another few months. I'm sure you'll all be waiting on the edges of your seats. But, wow, yelling like that in 'public' really gets the stress out. Along with the four nasty drafts I sent off to work to vet this morning. Slept like a baby, I did.On to other things - I stole this from the lovely Kaetlan Cares Not a couple weeks ago because it makes me laaaauugh and lauuuugh.
Does anyone remember me saying I had a weakness for the fatty cuties? Perfect example, right here. In fact, he reminds me a lot of Joel. HA! hee hee.
Sorry, everyone but Philly, who's the only person who will get how utterly perfect that statement is.
Tuesday, March 22, 2005
Un-fucking-believable
Bonus Bumper Sticker
Today, two months after lodging a polite and factual complaint through the Better Business Bureau against a company who I felt had wronged me but wouldn't return my TWO phone calls to explain why they'd done what they did - I received their reply through the mediator. And no, I don't do things like this all the time. It was a first. And (read on) luckily, I didn't continue to call them but choose to go through the mediator instead - because it was in January and I just.couldn't.take.anymore.of.what.the.world.was.dishing.out.to.me. I had to give some of it to someone else.
Apparantly they subscribe to this....
...because, after TWO phone calls identifying myself, leaving my name, my work number, my home number and requesting call back - they have accused me of harassment, like the threatening violent kind.
Hrmph. Like I'd LEAVE MY NAME & NUMBER right before I threaten them.
ME! The fucking polite and kind-hearted one who picks worms up off the sidewalk when it rains! Who's never said a mean thing to a stranger's face, email or voicemail IN HER LIFE.
If I know you, it's different - I'm a complete BITCH then. Sheesh.
Apart from that, they DEMANDED THAT I APOLOGIZE FOR MY SLANTED COMPLAINT. You know, that one that was a list of the FACTS. With absolutely NO OPINIONS OR EMOTIONS EXPRESSED. Because, when making a formal complaint, I'm not that STUPID.
Christ.
They then proceeded to LIE. Not real subtle-like either.
I guess I must go and write a rebuttal (is that a 'rebut'?) explaining why I don't feel I must APOLOGIZE nor WITHDRAW MY COMPLAINT and how SHOCKED I AM AT WHAT I PERCEIVE TO BE SLANDER and LIES.
Oh, am I yelling? Sorry.
This world is sad. I'd like to go to the rainforest now, please. Has anyone got an aspirin? I've given myself a capitalization headache.
lyric at post:
..(I am not listening to music right now, but rest assured that if I was, it would be Slipknot or something equally viscious. Is there a song where someone just screams "fuckyoufuckyoufuckyou" through the whole thing?)..color>
Only On The Island
Driving home a couple weeks ago, I was behind this car, trying to get closer to her without slamming into the rear-end - utterly fascinated by the toys that cover every space, even the hubcaps.....(sorry, only pic I could find - it is courtesy of the North Shore News.
photo by Stan Feingold
Not remembering until today that I wanted to look it up... this is what I found...
That article is mostly about her writing but of course the words tree house got my attention. (I've always wanted to live in a treehouse). But then I came across her Life & Times which engaged my attention even more. You should go read it. Here's a teaser.
How cool is THAT? Man, I love the internet.
lyric at post:
..I dream ahead to what I hope for
and I turn my back on loving you..color>
Monday, March 21, 2005
Obviously, I'm Scraping the Bottom of the Barrel, Here
I chew pens. All of them. There isn't a pen in my office or my 'house' that's not chewed. The people I sent 'I love Alberta Beef' pens to are damn lucky they didn't come pre-chewed. With love. I'm serious.I imagine that there's some sort of stress, OCD, teething, weaned too early, oral fixation issues behind my pen chewing, but I'm not about to get into that now. I actually prefer to believe that it's a habit I've embraced in an effort to stop other people from walking away with my pens. A defense mechanism, a territorial twitch, if you will.
People who write a lot understand the specialness of a good comfy pen and I hate it when people take mine. Plus, yanno, it makes them easy to find and identify. It is, however, just as likely that it helps me think and stops me from jamming them behind my ears. Cause I do that too.
So, this morning, I'm talking to our tech and he says, "Do you have a pen in your mouth again?"
"er. yeah?"
"Well, take it out, I can't understand you. You're mumbling. You're not sixteen."
(little does he know)
"Besides," he says, "what if something happens and you end up with it jammed right through your throat and poking out of your neck?"
"What? That's not attractive? Maybe I should try it. It'd be like a new kind of piercing"
"Well, I'm not attracte....I mean, I don't think many people find strange piercings attractive."
I wonder if he likes me?
Not today though, I'm boring.
Let's try something else....
Top 20 Search Phrases Bringing Strangers (ack!) Here..
*matt's journal jen -- I checked this one, it was boring too and nine pages in, I still hadn't shown up
*kuala lumpar marry deaf
*confucian symbol "jen"
*"as the mist leaves no scar"
*"canadians are cool" --this is a given, isn't it?
*"cell phone injury"
*"f&w"+"jen"+"sex" --f&w? anyone?
*"i've seen pubic hair" --this particular lyric request was listed 15 times
*batbatbat
*body perve social club
*bungee fuck pif
*dolly partons tits lyrics --would you be suprised if I told you the guys who wrote the pubic hair song wrote this one too?
*interspecial fucking --what? I wrote that somewhere? ick
*jen-sal --SAL! You dog!
*mbf-m2 m2 astray pics -- I prefer to see that one in my head as ASStray, but strangely this string with 'astray' and 'ashtray' come up with one site. this one. weird.
*moocowe
*pic ginch gonch fashion show vancouver --yj, this one is your fault
*gestures/random gestures or something involving gestures showed up 50 times
*video of a guy getting hit by ...being a dipshit and jaywalking --I probably did say *that* HA!
*walk quickly in heels site:blogspot.com --?? no idea, all I know is I can't walk at all in heels, let alone quickly
Sunday, March 20, 2005
Monday Bumper Sticker #11
Seemed to fit well with the post before.....
lyric at post:
..clouds are stalking islands in the sun
I wish I could buy one, out of season..color>
Books, Sticks, Memes
You're stuck inside Fahrenheit 451, which book do you want to be?I never read it. According to the review on Amazon it's about book burning firemen and people who hold the books in their head. According to Jen's answer, I should be telling you the book that I think should be burnt and not the one I would choose to keep in my head. Which, since my memory sucks, I'd be bad at anyways. I don't believe books should be burnt. Any of them, although I do see the point of burning these, to me it comes down to the right to decide. Who has the right to decide?
Have you ever had a crush on a fictional character?
I've read four books a week for 25 years, you want me to pick? Arg. Top of my head, the three that rise out of the morass - from back in the beginning - Chubby Lewis Barnavelt (one of the few that hasn't been thrown out, it still has the dewey decimal number from when I was 12 - 916.3), Jack Reacher, al'Lan Mandragoran, (Wheel of Time series).
The last book you bought is
A Short History of Nearly Everything, Bill Bryson.
The last book you read
Die Broke, A Radical Four Part Financial Plan.
What are you currently reading?
The Immense Journey, An Imaginative Naturalist Explores the Mysteries of Man and Nature. You should read this. No, really. It's fantastic.
Five books you would take to a deserted island.
It wouldn't matter really, since once I read them, I don't read them again, with the exception of one or two in my life. So, I'd take five LONG ones, space them out and then, when finished, more than likely drown myself.
Here, I'd add The book I'm reading next
My Dog Tulip because it is coming up on a year since I put Lacey to sleep and this book has been called - "one of the greatest masterpieces of animal literature". I am assuming I shall cry the entire way through it, especially with lines like this....'Tulip never let me down. She is nothing if not consistent. She knows where to draw the line, and it is always in the same place, a circle around us both.'
And, The last book I was given
Autobiography of a Yogi, given to me by Matt as something important he wanted to share with me. I haven't read it.
Who are you going to pass this stick to?
Because I do not like to do these things, I am not passing the stick to anyone, although any of you are welcome to pick it up yourselves (leave me a comment if you do). I may, HOWEVER, beat someone with a stick when I see her for being someone I cannot say 'no' to.
Back to the Couch
Did you by any chance get out of the shower this morning and lie down on the couch to read for a while, Jen?Why, yes, I did. Why do you ask?
Because I doubt anyone would actually DO their hair like that on purpose. How very retro.
Saturday, March 19, 2005
December 2004. Galiano Island.
I haven't really posted any pictures of the last week that Matt and I were together, when we rented that cabin on Galiano Island. Partly because I haven't gotten mine back and so I've only got the ones that Matt took and partly because I just haven't really been able to, sissy I, and partly because I hadn't actually paid my share of the cost to Matt.I still don't have my pictures back but I am now able to look at the pictures and, as of yesterday, that particular bill, as well as a few others I've been so behind in, now sits at ZERO.
There is too, that I am not going to be here until later tomorrow, so this could really be construed as a 'lazy' post.
We climbed to the top of Mt. Galiano and this is the panoramic view from there.
Seven bald eagles circled the sky above us. They were so close and I wished I could reach up to grasp a wing and catch a ride with them away from the pain of knowing Matt was leaving. Instead, I pulled out the guidebook to try and figure out which island was which. Rather than pictures of the eagles, Matt took pictures of me. Maybe he knew what I was thinking.
OH! So that's it. It's My *Flavor*
 Buzz buzz, I am Coffee flavoured.I am popular in the workplace, even though I am often bitter. I am energetic to the point of being frenetic; buzz buzz, out of my way. I tend to overwork myself and need periods of recovery time. What Flavour Are You? |
lyric at post:
..I am a question to the world
not an answer to be heard
or a moment that's held in your arms..color>
Friday, March 18, 2005
Six of One....
What The Kids Are Doing For Fun These Days
Earlier this month, Soapy Goldfish wrote I Wish Them All Dead (here's a little piece of it)...I think that everybody has at least one news story that floored them. That caused them to burst into sudden, spontaneous tears when they read it. If they don’t, then they should have.
I have one.
The first half of this post, then, is about mine. The following bits came from the Canadian papers this week.
A teen charged in the death of a Maple Ridge gas station attendant who was run over and dragged beneath a car for 7.5 kilometres (4.6 miles) was high on methamphetamines and trying to get the injured man to a medical clinic for help, the teen's friends said Wednesday.
The accused, a 16-year-old Maple Ridge resident who cannot be identified under the Youth Criminal Justice Act, appeared briefly in Youth Court in Port Coquitlam Wednesday charged with second-degree murder.
He is accused in the death of Grant De Patie, 24, who worked at the Esso gas station across the street from Garibaldi secondary school, which the youth attended.
Police have said De Patie tried to stop the accused, who was in a stolen car with a 15-year-old, from driving away without paying for gas early Tuesday. They say the accused ran over De Patie and dragged his body underneath the car for 7.5 kilometres.
Several students said the story spreading through the school halls is that the teens were under the influence of methamphetamine and were frantic when they heard De Patie screaming underneath the vehicle as they sped away from the Esso station.
They say the story is that De Patie's body was dragged for such a long distance because the teens -- in their drug-induced state -- were trying to find a medical centre where they could drop him off.
Several students said they heard the teens initially drove to an SPCA shelter on Industrial Road before realizing it was a place to treat animals and then continued on in search of medical assistance.
It was just over $12 worth of gas. They let the second kid go.
For those of you who may want to read the news articles, here are one and two. I could hop on a soapbox here and tell you what I think should happen to that "child" but I think I will just put another little portion of that post from Soapy Goldfish...
A Half Dozen of the Other....
Silbo - The Whistled Language of the Guanches
We see tragedy every day, in fact, the last few years it seems like we live, collectively, surrounded by endless appalling cruelty and pain but I think we far too easily forget that for every tragedy there is something incredible to discover, to see, to learn. We forget that the astonishing things are just as plentiful as the terrible things.Last week I learned that turtles can feel exactly where you touch them on their shells. That it's not 'just' a shell that protects them as I'd always thought but that there are thin lines of nerves running all over it that can pick up pressure differences. A small thing? Maybe. Two galapagos tortoises will fight over territory or a female mate by seeing who can stretch their neck higher over the other. Some land turtles can actually outrun a human on level ground. More small things? Yes. But just take a minute and imagine.
Part of the problem, I think, is that bad news and terrible things are handed right to us every day because, as they say, good news doesn't sell. I think the other part of the problem is that we, as individuals, just don't look for beautiful things outside ourselves. We've stopped. We don't look around. No one will hand the beautiful things to us and we forget, don't have time, can't be bothered to look for them ourselves. We are lazy and in that laziness, it has become easier to see the bad first and foremost above all else - no matter what our second thought is - the first is usually not a good one.
Which brings me to the next little story....
At this point in my life though, I have a year to organize it all, compact it, deal with it, read it, see it, look it up and get it out. At this very moment, I have four notebooks. At first, you know, each of them is for something specific. This one - quotes. That one - things I need to do - to the website - for the trip - a list of things I wanted to get for Matt. Over there - things I want to write about, things I wonder about. But then, eventually, I can't find the quote book so I use the idea book and so on and in the end, all the books are just one book - taking up four times the amount of space. And four times the amount of time when I think - oh, I wrote that down, except which book did I write it in?
It's a world of so much information now and I wouldn't want it any other way but I haven't the time to organize the information I've got, let alone *do something* with all of it. And I don't even DO anything with my time these days so I can't even imagine what it's like for people with actual lives.
Anyways, last night I started to whittle it down by pulling out things that I'd written down in passing to research and getting together one list of the books I want to read. Turns out there's 142 of *those*. So far. I still have nomoreozone's list to go through.
And the whistling tribe of the Canary Islands is one of the things I had written down to look up and learn about one day. These are short articles, so if you've got a moment, why don't you learn about them too?
The language has 2 vowels and 4 consonants and more than 4000 words can be expressed. The Guanches have been extinct since the 1500's but the language was adopted by the Spanish settlers to the island and survives only precariously today.
Here's the Wikipedia info. A BBC article and an article on how the brain processes the information we hear as well as *two audio examples* of the language.
I'm trying to teach myself that Wonder is everywhere. In the smallest things, as well as the largest. You just have to make the effort to look.
I'm just as guilty of not doing that as everyone else but one of the things that the last couple of my own beautiful and tragic years have taught me is that to survive and grow to become the person I want to be, I have to go out and find those things. As many as I can. No matter what. That the things I needed to learn here have been learned but that now it's time to learn new things. The greatest disservice I can do to myself and everyone around me is to stay in a place I don't belong and.... stagnate. Get by. If I'm working towards something then I have to honor it by actually making the next step. To get past the fear and the challenge to the accepted life-path that is ingrained in all of us, to take what I've learned and then go a step further. And a step further after that.
This struggle is largely what this site is about, in the end.
I'm doing this because I've always wanted to. Because I've never been happy living the life I've lived. Because I know, in my heart, that it's time to move on. That there is absolutely no reason I should be living this life anymore. Because I want this for myself. Because maybe the balance I bring to my life will lend a little of itself to the world around me, in turn.
I'm going to do my best to make as big a dent in "see everything, learn everything" cliche as I can, even if it's just all little things.
If I have a goal to hold inside of me then it is this - one day I hope that I will have made enough of the wonder and the joy of this life such a permanent part of me that it will be the first thing I see, the first thing I look for and the first thing *you* see when you look at me. Not the second.
Thursday, March 17, 2005
I've Been Remiss - A Poem
I actually have a huge post but it's still mostly in my head so you're going to have to wait. I have, before going off to read a couple of new books I picked up off my list tonight, added a new list in the sidebar to the left. Of what else? Books. Starting with the three or four I can remember immediately without taxing my brain, then continuing from nowIn the meantime, an e e cummings poem. One of my favorites.
love is more thicker than forget
more thinner than recall
more seldom than a wave is wet
more frequent than to fail
it is most mad and moonly
and less it shall unbe
than all the sea which only
is deeper than the sea
love is less always than to win
love never than alive
less bigger than the least begin
less littler than forgive
it is most sane and sunly
and more it cannot die
than all the sky which only
is higher than the sky
Wednesday, March 16, 2005
New Friend
Today was a brilliant day. And brilliant days are kind of boring, are they not?At least from your point of view....
So good in fact that I even managed to mostly ignore that the bank took my mortgage out 2 days early, two days before payday, that is. Since it's automatic withdrawl, it could only have been done by manually forcing it and god only knows why they'd do that. This caused the cheque I wrote for my LOW-FEE account to bounce.
You know, the 'ol mortgage and bills in one place where the paycheque goes and spending money transferred by cheque to the low-fee bank theory? Doesn't work so well if all the fees you save in an entire year are spent in one fell swoop by the NSF charges at two places for writing an NSF cheque to YOURSELF.
Which I didn't. So they'll just have to get their shit together tomorrow. I think my bank has finally succeeded in numbing me to their "booboos". Quite an accomplishment, that.
I don't know if the aforementioned boys come here - they've been told they can, but all day I've been picturing Yeti mumbling, "Oh, the horror, the horror." Sorry man. I was kidding.
I'm going to go 'way, relax and play with the frog I caught...now, where the hell did he go?....
lyric at post:
..all the way to heaven is heaven
caught between the spirit and the dust
all the way to heaven is heaven
deep inside of us..color>
Tuesday, March 15, 2005
Who Needs Outside Entertainment?
I'm Perfectly Capable of Amusing Myself
Okay so most of you, in fact, 99% of you, will more than likely not get what I'm about to say at all but I have to say it anyways because it made me laugh all the way home (and it's a long drive).Thinking, and no, I don't remember why I was thinking this, Butterfly Boucher on the cd, maybe?
"Did Yeti have a job when he came back to Canada last month? Why did he come back? And to G...P... to boot? Could it be for the girl? Is he just shunning his own country? How does his country feel about that? I wonder if he wants to stay here in my country?...
Heyyyy, that would solve any potential issues about a 1 year tourist visa - what if I like it there in his country? What if the spiders decide to keep me - will they be able to get me papers? If Yeti wants to stay in Canada then we could just do the marriage of convenience thing and then we'll both get what we want....
.........
So that would work out to - First, I meet Tim, then I absolutely adore Tim, then he brings Matt and Yeti, then I fall in love with Matt and then, a little while later, I marry Yeti."
I started to guffaw at that thought. All.the.way.home. Seriously, if you're thinking of visiting a foreign country such as... Canada ... and planning on stopping by to visit, ooooh, say ... me - DO NOT travel in a pack. Leave all your friends AT HOME. Please. I beg you.
My heart can't take it.
Monday, March 14, 2005
The Inherent Dangers Of Nature
I'd forgotten what this was like. Nine years living downtown in a city. A city virtually without a flea population (I never saw one, despite living with a dog in a building full of animals). In which the only spider I ever saw in my condo froze to death in about five seconds when I put it outside. In April. I'm pretty sure there was a wasp problem but I never had to deal with it. Let's face it, anything that survives most of the year gets wiped right out when it hits -20. If not before.And now, here I am, on the farm.
And the bugs, oh the bugs, they are a'coming.
I know this because the frogs multiply nightly, the car was full of little flies of all kinds today because I left the window open last night and even though I cleaned and dusted on the weekend - there are five spider webs here again already. In fact, there's one beside my keyboard hooked to the speaker and the blind with a little teeny spider crouched in the middle of it.
The truth must be faced - I live in the farthest possible thing from airproof, bugproof and today - second cat proof - home. Let's get this straight though - spiders.scare.me. When I was a kid, a 5 inch wolf spider in the bathtub reduced me to a gibbering wreck for hours.
Let's just take a brief look at the wolf spider, shall we? (since now I'm not sleeping tonight anyway. or putting my feet on the floor)
Wolf spiders are usually large, hairy spiders that are not associated with webs. These spiders are real hunters and have excellent eyesight. They are rather big and are easily spotted on places in the sun often at damp places. They do not spin a web but roam at night to hunt for food. Their name "wolf spider" is derived from the fact that people erroneously thought they hunted in groups like wolves. They can even been found on the water skating over it and even diving under the surface catching small fish and insects. Some of these spiders actually fish, by putting one of their legs into the water as bait.
Rather large? Hairy? Hunted in groups? HUNT? Small fish? erg. ack.
I won't kill them - that is far too ingrained in me by MaJen. The spiders are helpers, musn't kill them.
And of course, I'm torn. TORN.
Because they're the animals, you see.
To this day, I will not walk by a worm on the sidewalk after it rains. Yes - I will stop and pick it up and put it in the soil. You heard me.
Every morning on the way to work I have to talk myself out of pulling over two or three times to move the dead rabbits, raccoons and cats off the road.
Today, those little flies trapped in the car? Did I open the window to let them out? On the highway? Are you mad? I brought them home and shooed them all out, where they'd be 'safe'.
I say hello to the spiders who shower with me every morning.
Right now I'm watching a teeny fly get oh.so.close to the little web beside the keyboard and I'm trying to shoo him closer to the web.
Because the problem is - I can't stand the thought that they may not catch anything. Then they'd die. That's just not acceptable - they live with me. They are my responsibility. They are part of the family now.
Even though they scare the shit out of me. Not so much the littler ones - the size of which I'd more precisely define for you but it's all about looks really - - like the ones in the article at the bottom of the page - millions in every field around here, all shiny black and plasticy looking, smushed all over my bare feet as a kid ..... *shudder*
In Australia, however, there are something like 130 species in nine different genera. And whatever that means (for all I know the genera could be 'dinner plate' 'dingo sized' 'bigger than a breadbox' 'mammoth' etc) - it can't be good. I'd bet my sanity, however, that at least 99.9% of them are BIGGER than the ones here. So, Australia, you win, finally,the size thing. Are ya happy now?
I'm too afraid to even *look* at Ecuador.
I have to get over it though, don't I? The fact that I love bats and I could wake up with a entire team of rats in bed with me without blinking an eye and that I'm actually looking forward to making a large snake vomit so I can see what it just ate (like I learned on the snake documentary last night) and I would probably hug a crocodile if I could convince myself it would hug me back with those cute little stubby arms without biting my head off won't mean anything if I step outside with a flashlight in Aus to pee and see the shining eyes of a spider the size of a dinner plate just hanging out in a tree. (their eyes shine. no shit. trust me, I know these things)
For those of you who can stand it - Australian spiders.
And a story in my province about some freaky spiderish phenomenon - which is actually pretty cool. Unless you take the 'maybe it was an effort collectively by these spiders to try and catch a sheep.' comment a little too seriously.
I think something just bit my toe...
lyric at post:
..I'm a gun for hire, I'm a saint, I'm a liar
Because there are no facts, no truth, just data to be manipulated
I can get you any result you like....what's it worth to ya?..color>
Sunday, March 13, 2005
Monday Bumper Sticker #10
Don' wanna go ta work.
lyric at post:
..and when my mind is free
you know a melody can move me..color>
Saturday, March 12, 2005
Letters To The Editor
A Cheap, Stress-Relieving and Fun Little Hobby
Alright, so normally it's crotchety old people who write to newspapers and magazines, I know. But, a couple of years ago, I got sucked into one of those "eight magazines for a zillion years!" deals. That's where my very rare news commentary posts come from. As well as a veritable flood of interesting pictures cut out and saved for the day they adorn something I'm taking along on the world tour. And then, there was a letter to an editor last week that landed me a little gift for one of you vicarious travellers out there. It's an art as well, I think. There is a certain something required in writing letters that may end up being pubicly viewed around the world. A something I'm not sure I have after realizing that the letter I wrote about my trip went to a magazine that someone at work reads as faithfully as I do.
I do know, however, that the gentleman who, in response to this article about the Kyoto Accord (the world agreeing to cut down on greenhouse gases to save the planet), did maybe skip the 'calm down and reread' portion of the program.
Thank-you Mr. C. Chan. That's intelligent. For a five year old who doesn't want to share his toys.
Anyhooooo, in this months Canadian Living issue there is a nine page article called 'Your Whole-Health Guide, Aiming for your best at every age'. Imagine my surprise in turning to the "30's" section and reading four columns dedicated to childbirth. Prefaced by this comment: "If you're single, you probably work and play hard, but you're likely hearing your biological clock ticking over the roar."
That bears repeating, that gem, but don't worry, I repeated it in my letter. Let me just pull a couple of quotes from the section of the article I'm concerned with. If I may.
Relationships. Now is a great time to delegate. If you can afford it, hire help (babysitters and home services, ...) If it's not in the budget, ask doting grandparents and other family and friends to lend a hand. New parents should be prepared for sexuality issues: Mom may just want to sleep, while Dad is sexually frustrated.
I'm going to refrain from commenting on the above except to say - the entire relationship portion of the article was about married couples.
Nutrition Notes. Folic acid is important if you intend to get pregnant. Pregnant women need iron.....
Again, nothing UN-pregnant related.
Fitness. The rule for pre- and postnatal fitness...
Life Balance. (finally! something for all of us) If you're still single and don't want to be, put yourself where you might meet Mr. Right. You may even want to consider online dating. *sigh* Spoke too soon there.
I would link to the article but it's not online and yes, I did just pull out some of the more offensive bits of it - but you also must understand that the *entire* article had no advice for ME - other than talk to your doctor about stress and possibly the recommendations of a naturopath on how to help reduce stress.
Apparantly, if I'm hearing this correctly over the ROAR of my biological clock, I won't be in a relationship during my 30's, stress will be my only health issue, I should make more of an effort to find Mr. Right and I should take up a new hobby.
Why, THANK YOU, I did. My new hobby is writing letters.
Like this one.....
While realizing that you're a family oriented magazine despite the 'smart solutions for everday living' subtitle, I was extremely dismayed by your "Whole-Life Health Guide" in the April issue.
Your health advice and tips for women in their 30's revolves almost entirely around 'ticking biological clocks', and prenatal and postnatal care.
I work in a department of four women - one over fifty and four under 40. Not one of us has children. Nor do any of us plan to. I'd say that's a pretty high percentage of people you just alienated and offended by saying, "If you're single, you probably work and play hard, but you're likely hearing your biological clock ticking over the roar."
Shame on you.
Although, in cutting and pasting, I've just now realized that there's five of us. Not four. Ooops. I'm not very good at this hobby yet, I'm just starting. Gimme time, I'll get there. I did however, sign only with my initial - because in this town, it could have *theoretically* been written by my brother or my father. Or that other guy in the phonebook I don't know. HA.
lyric at post:
..I think we're alone here, you and I
I think we're alone in the universe tonight..color>
Friday, March 11, 2005
Yung. Te. Jen.
I spent a lot of years reading a lot of books about religion. Trying to come to my own understanding. I read the Christian Bible, the Morman Bible, Buddha, Hinduism, East, West, Mayan, Egyptian - books on everything I could find. The most comprehensive books I found on the Eastern (lets face it - they're the most magical ones) were by an author by the name of Alan Watts, whom I would recommend absolutely. It is from his books that my tattoo's came from.The best I ever came to, I think, in defining my own religion, was something I said to a couple of Jehovah's Witnesses at my door, about 12 years go..
That pretty much ended the conversation, every time. I don't hate the people who come to my door, in fact, in a way I envy their absolute belief in what they are doing. I do, however, believe enough in my own intelligence to have researched, read, pondered and finally, decided what I was going to believe.
By no means should that be taken as a reluctance to change what I think. I change all the time - because I learn and grow and change and adjust twentyfour hours a day.
I think that is what life should be. I have to say that again - in a slightly different way - I think that we should learn every day. I think we should be open to new things and new ideas and adjust to everything, minute by minute - if we have to. I think we *have* to every day but I also believe that some of us don't *have* to because some of us refuse to.
I'm sorry for you. And all the wonderful things you miss.
Maybe what I've done is taken the worst of the world's religions, maybe I took the best - it doesn't matter in the end because it's a personal thing. I don't judge you and hopefully, you don't judge me - we just enjoy each other.
You may think I 'm going to burn in hell for this or you may actually just leave and never come back but I believe that we tell ourselves what we need to so that we can ease our own anxiety. I believe in the power of my imagination. I believe in the power of my mind. I *want* someone to be taking care of me but my little band, the 'Headstones' have a lyric that goes
God loves you
God loved Hitler, man
And those six million Jews
And I think, oh ... oh, that is right. Think about it. God may be pissed at ME but an entire nation of Jews / Blacks / Natives? I can't buy it. Either 'he's' FAIR or he's NOT - because otherwise it's arbitrary and random and frankly, at that point, *it is just fate*. My life. Your life. WE ARE RANDOM. WE ARE FATE. I am sorry if this offends you and I hope you don't leave because of it - but I believe that we all believe what we need to believe and that is as far as I can go in any diretion.
In a very real way, this tattoo is my religion. I put a lot of thought into this life-long reminder that I now carry permanently on my body and they aren't actually meant to tell a story but to stand alone.
There is a reason for that.
YungPronounced 'YUNG', the symbol is formed around the image of running water with two strokes denoting 'foam' and 'ripples'. It is Eternity. Time without beginning or end; infinite time.
TeI used to tell people that this was a symbol that encapsulated all of the tenets of the Confucian philosophy. These 'virtues' include benevolence and righteousness. Any of you that have looked into the Eastern Religions would recognize what I mean by 'virtues' but they don't really mean what we would normally think of as 'virtues'. By that I mean that 'virginity' or 'silence' are not what we're talking about here and if things like that are your first response, then maybe you need to be educated more than I can educate you in a single post.
JenThe virtue that Confucious placed highest above all is translated as 'human heartedness'. The simplest explanation of this is that it is the recognition that the perfect human being is a balance between good and evil, selfish and unselfish and that, somehow, we can and must find the balance between the two.
For those of you that are new, 'Jen' is my name. This isn't something I went looking for. Someday, it was something I came across. If you've been here any length of time with me then I think that it is fair for me to say that you realize that my existence is one of extremes and that somehow, you might agree, the trick is for me to find some way to balance everything out.
That final, final simple philosophy is what I'm trying to live. To come to terms with. To be.
Balance.
In a lot longer version....
The symbol = Pronounced 'JEN' or 'REN', this combines the picture for 'human being' with the pair of horizontal strokes that denotes 'two' and was a construct of Confucious from two other symbols. The essential kindness that one person shows to another.
Jen = true or ideal humanity. A religion of conservative practices would tend to repeat only the past. Jen requires that we never claim full knowledge of the ideals towards which humanity should journey, that we must adapt the ideal to new situations.
Buddha's jen (humanity, goodness), which includes an affective concern for the well-being of others, desirable attributes such as yung (courage, bravery). An important part of the traditional norms governing conduct between along which a critical reflection on such norms and stances. Human conduct should not be dictated by fixed rules, but should be sensitive to relevant considerations and should accord with yi (rightness, duty). Other important concepts include shu (consideration, reciprocity), which involves not doing to another what one would not have wished done to oneself, and chung (loyalty, commitment), interpreted variously as a commitment to the exercise of shu , to the norms of li, or one’s duties toward superiors and equals.
The ideal of jen is within reach of all, and one should constantly reflect on one’s character.”
jen: “Chinese philosophical term, important in Confucianism variously translated as ‘kindness’, ‘humanity’, or ‘benevolence’. In Confucian thought, it is used to refer both to an all encompassing ethical ideal for human beings (when so used, it is often translated as ‘humanity’, ‘humanness’, or ‘goodness’), and more specifically to the desirable attribute of an emotional concern for all living things, the degree and nature of such concern varying according to one’s relation to such things (when so used, it is often translated as ‘benevolence’ ). Later Confucians explain jen in terms of one’s being sensitive and responsive to their well-being.
Love yourself and be awake -
Today, tomorrow, always.
First establish yourself in the way,
Then teach others,
And so defeat sorrow.
To straighten the crooked
You must first do a harder thing -
Straighten yourself.
You are your only master.
Who else?
Subdue yourself,
And discover your master.
The Buddha, adapted from the Dhammapada, translated by Thomas Byrom
This word [jen or ren] is symbolic of mankind's cardinal virtue in the system of Confucian morality, and it is usually translated "human-heartedness" or "humanness." When Confucius was asked to give a precise definition of it, though he refused. He said, "You have to feel the meaning of this virtue. You must never put it into words."
The wisdom of his attitude toward defining jen is simply that a human being will always be greater than anything they can say about themselves and anything they can think about themselves. If we formulate ideas about our own nature, about how our own minds and emotions work, those ideas are always going to be qualitatively inferior - that is to say, far less complicated and far less alive - than the actual author of the ideas themselves, and that is us. So there is something about ourselves that we can never get at, that we can never define - and in just the same way you cannot bite your own teeth, you cannot hear your own ears, and you cannot make your own hand catch hold of itself. So therefore you must let go and trust the goings-on of your humanness. Confucius was the first to say that he would rather trust human passions and instincts than trust human ideas about what is right... - The Way of the Tao, by Alan Watts
I recommend Alan Watts. I'm flabbergasted that my name means so much. I'm awed that my name, as common as it is, seems to be the definition of the balance that I search for.
I believe wholeheartedly in no-one, not even myself, but if I had to definitively choose a 'way' - it would be, it IS, to strive to live up to my name. To find balance. To be humanhearted.
I fail, mostly, but this is what I try to do and every year, I think I get a little closer to meeting the goal I have forever on my arm.
Thursday, March 10, 2005
And A Damn Good Thing, Too
This isn't a post. Not really. It's an update.Because isn't everyone dying to know what today was like? Jeez.
I won't be posting the tattoo explanation tonight because I am out at another family dinner. Fighting with my 'cousin' Christy over the food cause we are both porkiepiggie-where's-my-shovel eaters. Everyone else cowers before the non-stop mouths of the two of us - I wonder sometimes why they even consider having us both there at.the.same.time. It's a form of madness.
I went to the doctor today to get something frozen / burnt off my arm and checked with the lovely receptionist - apparantly the place I left paid the bill for January. The ones who actually shouldn't have but whatever, I'm not complaining (anymore), unless it comes back.
Apparantly, for security reasons, there are no longer names on certain bank cards. Makes no sense to me. At all. Can you imagine? There'll be no more easy identification - "Well, hello there, large fat hairy man, how has it felt to be called Jennifer all your life? Or is that, gee, could that be.... a *stolen* card?" SO, the information is carried on the magnetic strip. Does this mean that in a store when I swipe my card, it will come up and say, "Does the person with this card look like a confused Jennifer-type to you?" Or will it be one of the TWO tellers at the ONE BRANCH of my bank who are the only people who can see that info?
On the up side, however, I went from being a "Programmer Systems Analyst I" today to being a "Computer Tech Support II" with a minor as a "Transport Attendant I".
What does that mean? I'm no longer a "clerk" with the Facilities Maintenance Department but a "technician" with the Information Systems Department.
And I have a drivers licence.
What it REALLY means though, is that once I apply (for the third time in six months for my job) is... $2.77 MORE an hour.
Sounds pretty good, hey?
There's always that bottom line, though - by the time it kicks in, my company will have just started to "keep / withhold" my mandatory 6% pension.. quite effectively just balancing it out to the point that I will more than likely not notice a difference at all.
But, shit, the weird thing here is that since this time last year between the move and the rental income for the condo I have increased my income by 55%.
Oh, yeah, baby. 55%.
Of course, it's all in the manipulation of the numbers - after all, although I didn't, I *could* have made $5,000 last year.
But, Holy Shit.
Holy Shit, I say.
Wednesday, March 09, 2005
Interlude
I'm sorry but someone out there has to tell me that I'm not the only one on the planet that has absolutely nothing go smoothly.
I'll tell you about the tattoo next post but, first, I have to tell you why I'm so mad I actually screamed. Too high pitched. It was silent.
On the up side - I seem to have frightened the frogs into shutting up.
I'm not going to tell you how bad the work day was. Use your imagination. There was saline and snot and that's all I'm saying.
My bank card's not been working well so I called my credit union (and oh, my fuck, if only I had the time to tell you some of the horror stories there - including negating my disability insurance - which I actually NEEDED - and 'forgetting' to classify that RRSP withdrawl as a Home Buyer's Program loan) to get a new card.
They tell me that normally I'd have to physically go in to re-PIN the card or just, after seven years and changing every number in my life in the last four months, accept the random PIN they assign - EXCEPT they'd just been told that other credit unions could now re-PIN the card for me. Yay. On Friday, they deactivated my current card (had to apparantly) and sent out a new one by courier to a bank here that had assured them they would help me re-PIN it, most likely on Saturday morning.
Guess what? That courier arrived TODAY. Wednesday.
I'm driving along after work, actually starting to feel pretty good, until I got to the bank, whereupon they informed me that no one can re-PIN. I'm thinking, "which of you idiots told my bank you COULD?", which must have quite obvious on my stress-pimpled face because they then offered to *try* it, yanno, to make me happy. Ooh, except we're too stupid to understand how to work the machine. Sorry.
I'm thinking, "okay, they were just too dumb" and I went to another credit union. Nope.
I called a couple more when I got home. I was going to grocery shop, having had no access to my own money since last Friday but by this point I was too utterly exhausted to bother. I'd rather starve to death than deal with one more human being in a town that seems intent on slowly killing me.
Again, guess what? NO credit union on the planet can re-PIN another credit union's client card. Now I have a card I refuse to fucking well use because I REFUSE to learn one more fucking number and then change the other security numbers that are the same so I don't forget any of them.
Did I mention the card doesn't actually have my NAME on it?
Do I look comfortable with that?
Fuck.
My burning question around this is - what do they do if you lose your card in a foreign country? Or if you're in Timbuktu and a mule eats it and it's your only way to get MONEY? What? What? Seriously, what do they do? Make you fly back to your OWN ONLY BRANCH for a new card?
O ho! but wait, I am not done!
You leave a province - your health insurance coverage continues for the remainder of the month you leave and two more months. Every single provincial website says a variation of this.....
Sounds great, don't it? Pretty reasonable, yes?
Except that almost none of the other provinces allow you to be eligible until after more than two months. In other words, you can leave any province in Canada but any one you move TO will not allow medical coverage until you've survived without coverage at all for at least a month up to six and in Ontario it's exactly 153 days - whatever the fuck that means.
I left Oct 30th so they cover me until Oct 31st and two months so my coverage ended Dec 31st. My new coverage won't start until Feb 1.
I'd tell you I looked at BC specifically, but it would be a lie - that date came from my bill, because the BC website is NONFUNCTIONAL.
Normally, this wouldn't bother me - I'd rather not pay the extra million dollars a month for shitty health care - but I actually went to the doctor, who is an important man in my life - during that month I had no insurance. Who pays for that? I'm certainly not bloody well going to. Don't these people talk to each other? Who's running this fucking country? Does that make ANY sense to you, gentle readers?
I think that you guys would just have no idea that life could be this difficult if I didn't have at least two days a week like this that someone ordered up at the moment of my birth JUST so I could tell you about it.
If "Lost" is a repeat tonight, I'm going to kill something.
Tuesday, March 08, 2005
In The Middle
...I am, of some nasty things at work. Nasty things like, well, I can't really say since I'd like to keep this job a little longer. Nasty work-like things. Just take my word for it - or, as Janet Jackson would have said back in 1986 - "Who’s jammin’ to my nasty groove? Nasty boys!"Also, the nasty things that happen when you say, "omigod, like I could totally revamp your whole terrifyingly bad and seriously time-consuming duplication of effort involving paper- based order system by designing and building this fantastic intranet submission form I can see in my head, as well as an outlook based task management system, like, rilly, dude."
Will I never learn?
Anyways, it's first round of testing and teardown tomorrow and OT / hair pulling galore for implementation April 1.
As much as I be liking the OT (mooooooooney, muahhahahahaha), my brain hurts, I still have just as much work as everyone else and I'm way too frazzled (and bitchy) to do anything but blather on in here. I can't write emails and I just noticed it's 9:45 pm and I haven't done anything since I walked in the door and stuck my head in the fridge at 4:30 to inhale that leftover fettu... fetti... fettucchi... pasta.
I don't even know what I was doing for all that time. Actually, I did do two somethings - I went through every piece of paper in the house (while trying to completely avoid any of the 8 million pieces of paper that constitute emails from Matt - it burns the eyes man) to find the damn slumlord insurance I have on the condo so I can claim it for the five bucks or something equally as pathetic I'll get back on my taxes this year. Twice. This place is what? 15 square feet? Where.do.I.put.this.shit?
I then tried to get the damn frog noise on the answering machine so I could audio post for you kids. All this stuff is true! Dammit!
Which brings me to the point of this post. I actually JUST spent 45 minutes looking up all the symbolism for my tattoo. Cause I had it written down somewhere but have just lately realized (tonight) that I have also no idea where the hell that is, either.
So..... that fuzzy thing up there in the header - it's me arm, man. It was a 32nd birthday present for myself from myself cause I love myself. I figure I should at least offer up an explanation before I take the picture away this weekend.
So, yeah, anyone want to know what it means?
lyric at post, over to you Janet:
..no, my first name ain’t baby,
it’s janet... ms. jackson if you’re nasty
nasty boys don’t mean a thing
oh you nasty boys don’t mean a thing to me
nasty... don’t mean a thing
oh you nasty boys..color>
Intimidation In The Inbox
Monday, March 07, 2005
Weight
I'm pretty sure I've still got six or seven days till the preemie meanie screemies kick in, although you couldn't tell by looking at my face and it's two new talking heads - but today was just one of THOSE DAYS.Not so much angry as something else... something else I can't put my finger on. Michael's comment down there made me think about the song those lyrics came from and I plugged in the CD on my way home. These boys, the Headstones, their lyrics absolutely destroy me. They overwhelm me with their angry angry genius and the ability they have to just tell me exactly what I feel. Here's a little more of that song...
Don’t know whether to kill or cry
Don’t know whether to rebuild or to burn it
You don’t know how just to say goodbye
I’ll tell you what, what’s to tell
It’s the world not a call I can screen out
Keep it down see if it digests
Your batteries are shot
So are the instruments
Gonna become gonna become gonna become gonna become unsound
You better run, don’t want to become yourself
Flies in and out of focus
Next best thing to a rage
I don’t like the way that it coaxes me to explain
If you don’t realize it’s crazy
If you can’t understand the source
Don’t reach too fast for the answers cause it gets worse
There are moments so cataclysmic, so previously unthinkable that one cannot imagine that life could have the audacity to continue beyond them.
But it does.
This isn't about Matt, not really, he's become an experience that lives inside of me and has changed me just like all the rest.
This may not make sense but I don't know how else to say it.. I use he and Lacey to bear the shape of a thousand thousand things - so that when I speak of them, I'm actually speaking about everything. They represent the absolute moments of joy and the utter moments of sorrow in my life, all at once. They represent to me all of the good, the learning, the love and the pain I try to set down in coherent shape, in words that make sense, instead of sharing every small experience and all the convoluted relationships in an effort to make it understandable to you.
It's about the simultaneous weight and absence of the things that shape our very core.
Making the decision to put the dog down and then living with that and carrying it through utterly changed the person I am. Fundamentally. I believe that the things that partnership, that friendship taught me are the things that allowed me to take that chance with Matt. Who then wrought his own changes in me.
All of these things in this life - the terrible and the wondrous - have made me the person that I am and the person I become more of all the time.
I don't think that bravery is necessarily involved, really. I think that the alternative - to give up, to give in - is just not doable. I did once - I gave up. The world didn't stop. The sun didn't fall from the sky. They let me out of the hospital and I went home and got up the next day and went to work. Then I got up the next day, and the next and some days, I didn't get up at all. I made do with what I had and sometimes that was good and sometimes, not so good. But I did it for 15 years. B's been doing it for just as long. She gets up, these days she slaps on a morphine patch, and she goes to work - she sees me as 'brave' but refuses to see herself that way because all she's doing is getting up and going on.
If you give up, then someday, you are going to have to get back up again and on that day, you're just that much farther behind and you have that much farther to go to get back.
One of the things that B and I talked about this weeked was her stepdaughter. It's strange for me to see her in the same relationship I was in with my stepmother - but she's looking at it from the other side, instead. She cries when we talk about what I went through and yet I can't get her to take my experience and apply it to her stepdaughter before it's too late. It's strange to me. It's hard to understand and yet, it is not my place to do anything other than offer my experiences to them, if they want them.
Matt believes that a relationship can end without hurt and loss and maybe that's something he's capable of. For me, his absence is it's own kind of weight. A weight I will always feel, a space just over my shoulder, a reach just a little too far away - as Lacey is the space beside me on the couch that no one can ever fill. With Matt I was incandescent and I may be that again. Or I may not. That may be too much of a chance for me to take again but it doesn't negate the things that live now in me. Those memories are beginning to have the power to make me smile and make me feel loved but they too carry their very own absence into the future with me.
I think, today, that maybe that's what love really is - the presence deep inside of you of someone who could not stay.
