Childhood Memories

I haven't written in so long I don't know where to start. I will start with what I am doing right now. I am sipping on Merlot, it's called Lucky Bug. It's organic and I'm not sure I'm a fan. But it will do. I'm listening to K's Choice: Not An Addict. Great song. And I'm chatting with a childhood friend, I'll call him Savi, cause that's what I called him when we were kids.

Savi. We didn't keep in touch after elementary school. We hadn't talked to or seen each other in about 20 years (20 years! How is it even possible that I've been alive that long?) but so are the joys of Facebook. Oh Savi. Where do I start? Savi was one of the few reasons I had for wanting to go to school in the morning (the others were my best friend, and the fact that I was out of the house for the day). It's funny, because when I think about it, I only went to school with him for three years, but it feels like he embodies my whole childhood school experience. I believe he came to us in Grade 5.

Savi was something special, and I knew this even then. He was very well-liked but it never went to his head. He had a lot of friends, but he seemed content to hang with the girls. He didn't judge. He was extremely funny. And sweet. I remember he willingly participated in a science experiment, conducted by my best friend and I called The Pain Threshold. He willingly participated in this - who does that?

It was devastating when we graduated from elementary school. I had a sort-of friend ask me, so what's going to happen now? Are you and Savi going to hook up? I replied that I didn't know, and I had a feeling we weren't even going to keep in touch. And we didn't. It's so strange knowing that he stayed in town, different high school, but same very small town, and we never ran into each other once. We lost touch and last year he added me as a friend on Facebook. And here we are. We've been chatting a lot lately, and it's like we're 12 years old again. Only we're not. All this time has past, and we have so many of the same thoughts and interests. I look forward to our chats. We spend most of it bombarding each other with links to songs. It's so weird. I'm going home for Christmas, and I'm both afraid and looking forward to the fact that he might also be home for Christmas. I don't know if I want to see him. I mean, when we're chatting, I'm mostly remembering that 12 year old scrawny little kid. It's really hard for me to imagine that he's all grown up, even though I've seen the pictures to prove it.

I don't know. I do this. When I finally relate to another human being I become crazy. Neurotic. I shouldn't over-think this, right?

New Moon - All The World

This fan-made video does a fantastic job of capturing the melancholy mood of the book. Some people don't get why a depressed person would want/need to watch sad movies, read sad books, listen to sad music; but trust me, trying to force yourself into a happy place only makes it worse, at least for me. I like things that I can relate to because in the real world I feel like there is nothing I connect with. I feel completely alienated by happiness.

(As per usual, I can't seem to post video to my blog, so please click on the link)

New Moon - When You Find Me

i know twilight is criticized a lot but who cares. i really related to new moon, and this fan-made video really captures the feel of it. so many talented twilight fans!

(i can't seem to post any video on my blog so please click on the link)

Going Through the Motions

Will there ever be a time when I can't relate to an episode of Buffy the Vampire Slayer? I wish I was blog savvy enough to post the actual youtube video but here's a link. Check it out. It's my life.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F81gBzlKfLM

My Monster

Why is something that seems to ache within me always want to hide from me? I want to write. I need to write, yet something stops me from writing. I'm convinced I have a monster inside whose only goal in life is to make mine miserable. That must be the only explanation, right?

Anyway, I guess I haven't posted in a while. Here's an update:

The biopsy revealed a skin condition called Erythema Nosodum. The problem is, this can be caused by any number of things. The specialist seemed a whole lot less concerned about its cause than me. Let's see...Eythema Nodosum, combined with joint pain, and anti-nucleur antibodies present in my blood. Seems a little suspicious, maybe you should be referred to a rheumatologist? oh no, that's okay, it doesn't seem like you're dying from anything at this moment, so...let's just wait and see. Ya.

So...I have time alone and I'm drinking a great beer. I was feeling pretty good about myself and so naturally I decided to bring myself down by trying to call the ex. No answer. Again. That's okay. I'm sure there's still something completely inappropriate that I can do.

I haven't made any progress in my novel. I think about it non-stop. I write notes whenever something comes to mind, but I have yet to actually sit down and write. Inspiration is elusive. Or maybe it's because I haven't really lived my life. It's difficult to find insiration when you spend all of your free time by yourself, wishing you could find inspiration to write. That's okay. Tonight, I will try to invent inspiration. Tonight, I will write. (Though if tonight's post is any indication it won't be any good!)

Waiting

So I spent almost 2 weeks going crazy waiting for the results of my biopsy. I finally called the office when I didn't hear back. My doctor told me it doesn''t seem to be what they thought. He wants me to have an urgent appointment with a dermatologist so now I'm waiting for that call. I am going stir-fucking-pull-out-my-hair-CRAZY!

So the airhead receptionist wasn't entirely wrong. I did need to go to the doctor's to have something removed: a chunk out of my leg the size of a single couscous. Ew. Did I really just make the comparison? Anyway, it was a biopsy. So now I have to wait a week and see what horrible disease I have. Can't wait.

I feel like my body is falling apart. I was thinking about this the other day: when people die of so-called natural causes, does it only happen at the moment that the mind, body and soul unanimously agree that it's time to let go? Maybe it's because I'm such a pessimist, but I wonder if my body is simply catching up with the rest of me.

Anyway, not much else to add today. I'm very tired.

My Dimpled Ass

I have recently acquired a taste for very spicy Caesars. I'm drinking one right now in fact. Perhaps it is even the reason why I've finally decided to post.

So...there seems to be something seriously wrong with me. I know, I know, this was already quite obvious right? But the last couple of weeks or so have seen the kicking of my dimpled ass. My legs are swollen and bumpy and red and sore. I don't know what it is but I've considered some pretty awful things like cancer, tumours, blood clots and more. I've gone to the doctor twice in a week and had about 7 viles of blood drained from me for testing. My doctor's office called me at work and told me to come in on Monday. The receptionist was so uninformed and tactless, she actually said to me "dr. wash wants you to come in on Monday to see Dr. Keeling so he can remove...whatever it is you have". Nice. I have no idea what I have. Nor was there any discussion with my doctor about having something removed. So...this kind of worries me. But I guess I will find out on Monday right?

Anyway, I am currently listening to Cat Power on Jango.com. I love the way this website works but they have recently imposed their listeners with advertisements. This is not cool. Uninterrupted stream of music - that's why I like Internet radio. Why Jango? Why???

So, it's 11:38 and I'm feeling pretty buzzed (which usually means sleepy for me) from this one Caesar, so it's not looking so good for fitting in some writing before bed. But I shall give it a try, until I get distracted again by something on the evil Internet. Wish me luck.

Radio Paradise - DJ-mixed modern & classic rock, world, electronica, acoustic, and more - 100% commercial-free

Radio Paradise - DJ-mixed modern & classic rock, world, electronica, acoustic, and more - 100% commercial-free

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Check it out.

Real Life

I feel so incredibly stuck. Why am I still in this relationship? Why am I still in this city? Why am I still working this job? It's like I've quit living all together and I'm sleep-walking, zombified, a ghost, whatever you want to call it, I'm just not here! I'm so afraid of change. I'm so afraid of really trying at anything because I'm so afraid to fail. How did I get like this? Some days, I just want to end it. Some days, I just wish I would go over the edge and be committed to an institution where I wouldn't have to be in charge of my own life. I don't know what the answers are when the biggest obstacle I face is me. I feel like time is running out. I'm getting older and my life just keeps going down hill. At least when there was a glimmer of hope, I kept thinking, someday in the future my real life will begin. I'm starting to realize now, that I've been living my real life and it sucks!

Jeff Buckley - Forget Her

This song is on Grace, the Legacy Edition. It didn't appear on the original.

Muse HAARP - Apocalypse Please (Wembley Stadium)

Okay this is last one today I promise. But isn't this song fantastic! Who doesn't wish for an apocalypse now and again?

Muse - Ruled By Secrecy

God I love these guys. Their songs are so dramatic and emotional, I almost cry everytime I listen - this one in particular.

Living Room

Canadian band from the Maritimes. Try singing this song and saying it's not addictive!

Don't Get Your Back Up - Sarah Harmer

I listened to this album over and over when I first bought it six years ago. Her music is so relatable and it just seemed to get better the more I listened.

Cat Power- Shaking Paper

I was lucky enough to see Cat Power at a Folk Festival. I love this song, but I have to admit, I have no idea what the lyrics mean, I just love the feel of it.

Hold the gun
Way deep down
Look out beyond the sun
Look out beyond the sun

Good things coming
'Cause the good thing's coming

Shotguns with no guns
Shot army with no army at all

I don't know what is worse
And I can't tell what is the best
People emphasize the way of the world
Demons despise the sound of shaking paper
Guess what I found out
You
Too

KT Tunstall - White Bird

Love this song

Ghost

Look! It's me! I don't know what possessed my significant other to snap this shot, but it seems like it's just a day in the life...I'm having trouble with the whole blogging thing for various reasons. One of which is that even though I think I think interesting thoughts all of the time, I can never seem to think them when it's time to write. Another reason is that I'm an uber-private person, most of the time. So even though this thing is anonymous, I still feel exposed. So in an effort to get out there and expose myself (maybe I should re-think that phrase) I've posted a picture to write about.

This is me at my computer, obviously. Seeing the office area from this perspective, makes me realize it's not a very inviting area. Believe it or not, this is actually an improvement over maybe a year ago. I mostly just re-arranged and cleaned up the office. But it still looks so...stale? And that's just it isn't it? Everything is bare, impersonal, hard. Just like me. It's like I've been afraid to personalize anything, make it my own. The other day, I went for a long walk in the evening. It wasn't so much a walk as a saunter. Or maybe a shuffle. Or maybe all three. I started out walking, when I arrived at the park, I sauntered, and as I became wrapped up in my own thoughts, I sort of shuffled about. I was overwhelmed with this sensation that I don't really exist. That I'm a ghost. I searched everywhere in that park for a sign of me, but there was none. When I came home, I lurked, yes lurked, around in my own yard, looking for signs of me, and found none. I peered into my windows to see if I could find me inside, but I could not. I'm a ghost, but I'm haunting a place I've never been.

Good Advice

I've decided something today, and that's not an easy thing to do if you're me. I've been avoiding the blog thing since I started, mostly because, despite the anonymity of it, I am still afraid of what others will think of me. I'm afraid everyone will know what a despicable person I am, what a horrible writer I am. But I've decided I don't care. And I owe it to a comment made by cmk on a blog I was reading: "I think we forget sometimes that our blogs are there for a reason: for us to put down our thoughts. We worry too much about pleasing our readers and don’t think of ourselves enough. Be selfish and write or DON’T write as YOU please...." I think that is good advice, and though it was not intended for me, I will take it.

I'm growing old...and I wanna go home

I've had a pretty horrible week. My boyfriend was sick and as soon as he was better I was sick. It started on Thursday, it's now Thursday again, and I still feel like crap. I've missed two days of work. This month's paycheque is not going to be stellar.


Just before creating the den of sick, my boyfriend and I had one of our little talks in which we discuss breaking up for the millionth time. I guess this time it was a little different. At least it seemed more final somehow, but we haven't talked about the specifics. He brought it up the other day when I was already wanting to jump off a bridge because I already I felt like crap. He didn't like it too much when I just changed the subject, but there's only so much misery I can stand at one time, you know?

I have a really special kind of self-loathing going on these days. It's even preventing me from working on my novel. I can't stand the thought of my main character right now; she disgusts me because she comes from me.

All that keeps running through my head is it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter, it doesn't matter...cause a black-eyed dog he called at my door.

Will Stephen King Publicly Announce That I Can't Write After I Publish a Novel That Sells Millions?

Wow. My last post could be a book. A really crappy book. I think this will be a short post. It's quarter to ten and I am wiped. I hate getting up at 5:45 AM. It's just wrong.

Current Events: Last night was our staff 'Christmas party', in February. We went to dinner theatre, and it was mildly entertaining. I can't believe it was four hours long.

Ranting: I don't know if I mentioned this, but I'm a big Twilight nerd. And today I read something on the Internet that pissed me off. And not really because I'm such a huge fan of the series, but because of the principal of it. Stephen King is apparently going around like a big shot saying that Stephanie Meyer sucks. I am so tired of people saying that Twilight is garbage because it doesn't feature teens fornicating. But even if he criticized the premise of the book, that would fine; annoying, but fine. But to basically say that a fellow writer can't write worth a shit, seems petty to me. Who defines what it means to be a good writer? Isn't a writer someone who tells stories, to entertain the readers? Well, I would say that Stephanie Meyer's readers are entertained, to say the least. And let's face it, Stephen King's work - not exactly literary prose.

Over and out.

Separation Anxiety

So...here I am. I have the house to myself, a perfect time for writing, but am I writing? No...I'm not writing, I'm drinking red wine, listening to old music, and reminiscing about the past. And out of respect for dwelling, I even tried to call my ex-boyfriend. Why am I such a complete moron? He was not there of course, and there was not even voicemail so I don't even know if he has the same number, but still, I called him! Again! What is wrong with me!

The last time I saw him was about 6 years ago. We had a break-up that kind of dragged on because of circumstances, (he dumped me, but we were living together, and certain things needed to happen before I was able to move out). I don't know why, but I just feel like confessing to someone.

We had a strange relationship. I had been in a long-term relationship that was going nowhere when I came across a job posting at the exact right time. I had just graduated from university, and had just finished a contract job at an immigration centre, when I came across this job posting for a resort job in the mountains. It was only going to be short term, and I had all these romanticized visions of me working in solitude in the mountains, honing my writing skills, studying another language, and just being a loner. But when I got there, there wasn't a whole lot of time for anything but work, and even though I tried to keep to myself, I met someone. It was really strange. I came home to my dorm, to find this guy hanging out with my roommate. Now, I felt nothing but protectiveness for my roommate at this point, because she was young, and I really grew to care for her over a short time period. But we both ended up at this party, and only said a few words, but it seemed enough to spark his interest. I was dusting spoons at the illustrious gift shop in which I worked, when suddenly there he was, saying my name (which gave me butterflies) and asking me to go have a drink with him at the only establishment 'in town'. I was immediately suspicious. What was he thinking? He obviously had something going with my very young, very blond roommate, and now he was asking me out to have a drink? I rationalized to myself that this meant nothing: maybe he was simply curious because I mostly kept to myself, and the drink invitation was purely an invitation to friendship. On the other hand, maybe he was a total freak, and had dirtier things on his mind involving me and my roommate. I couldn't help but feel a little angry about this, and vowed that if he tried anything, I would kick his ass. On the other hand, I felt intrigued by his invitation and could not turn it down.

So, we went for this drink, and had so much to talk about, and enjoyed each other's company so much, that we ended up going for a walk in the rain. This is when we had our first kiss: in the rain, in the mountains, wearing hoodies. Anyway, we became infatuated with each other in no time. It no longer mattered that my roommate would end up being hurt. Well, it mattered, I felt incredibly guilty and ended up confessing all to her in tears, but basically, I felt it was just not possible to be without this guy. I still marvel at how fast it all happened. I was not generally an impulsive person, but when I stop and think about it, we were only together for 3 days when it became very serious. Three days! After 3 days of basically sleeping together, I got fired. This business is owned by a bunch of very wealthy, very arrogant sons of bitches, who have this interesting little policy: if someone is fired for any reason, they are automatically banned from the premises for life, no exceptions, and must vacate the premises within one hour. This put me in panic mode. I had ruined everything! Here I had met this guy that I was completely, madly in love with, and now I am fired and have to leave the premises and probably never see him again. Fortunately, or unfortunately, depending on how you look at it, someone tipped him off during working hours that I was preparing to leave. I guess it didn't really matter since I had already left a cheezy note on his pillow saying: I've been fired. Meet me at the view point at six o'clock. (There really was a view point, and it really was the best place to meet). It was off the property of the resort so I was free to wait for him there. Anyway, he arrived at my 'dorm' as I was preparing to leave, and he was quite upset. We met later, when he was done his shift, at the view point. It was at this time, that he said 'this sounds totally crazy, but I think we should move in together when my contract is finished', which was a couple of months away. I said, 'i know it should sound crazy, but it doesn't'. I still finished with 'I'll have to think about it,' but I knew that my mind was already made up. I hung around the area, staying in hostels and seeing him after his shift, and at some point, I confessed that 'even though it seems crazy, I think I love you'. He told me that he felt the same way.

We ended up moving in together and it was absolute bliss for at least 2 whole weeks. Then it was not bliss. Not even close. We constantly fought. I like to think that we were too alike to be compatible. I'm not sure he would agree. Anyway, it was incredibly intense, and there were a lot of things that happened that I don't wish to go into here, but I have never been so hurt by anybody as I was by him. So, to skip over a lot of important parts, he broke up with me, I was devastated, and because of certain circumstances, could not move out right away. Also, I was still completely infatuated with him. I came to him, the night he broke up with me, totally against my nature, and asked him, leaving myself open for further rejection: 'just tell me, if your feelings have changed, I'll understand why you don't want to be together. Is that it? I noticed you haven't told me you loved me in a little while...is that it? You don't love me?' It would have been easier if he had told me that yes, his feelings had changed, but he didn't. He told me, that 'no, that is not it, my feelings have not changed, it's just, some people are not meant to be together. I'm sorry.'

So that just sucked. We both still feel this powerful love for one another, but its not enough? It was so frustrating because I felt that we hadn't really tried. He thought that that was a good sign we didn't belong together, I thought it was just laziness. At any rate, I couldn't change his mind. Idiot that I was, I told him, we may as well be together, until we're not. In other words, I would take what I could get from him. So we continued to sleep together, and on several occasions, it was like he completely forgot that our time together had an expiry date. He completely forgot that he broke up with me. Going for walks he would casually point out houses that we both liked and would say something stupid like, 'oh, that's the perfect house for us, I could even have a studio in the attic.' But even though he had momentary lapses of sanity, he never changed his mind: we did not belong together.

We had good moments, but we also had some very nasty ones. I knew he wanted me out of his life, but I was having a very hard time with separation anxiety. I just couldn't bare the thought of losing him, and it almost made me go off the deep end. I knew that I would never be able to say goodbye, but I had too. So one morning, after we had made love, he got ready for work and I knew that this would be the day that I leave. His last words to me were 'naked as a jay bird', as I stood there, without clothes, baring myself to him completely, looking at him like I knew it would be the last time, and he had no idea. And all he could say to me was, 'naked as a jay bird'. He left for work and I got right to it. I cleaned the apartment spotless. I gathered all the empties we had accumulated. I packed all my belongings, feeling nothing but guilt that he would be left without a phone, without a working TV. I had a neighbour help me pack the larger items into my car. I drove away and took my empties to the bottle depot so I would have some money, (I lost my job three days before he broke up with me, so I was pretty strapped for cash), left a note and was on my way.

On the way out of town it occurred to me that he might be on his lunch break. I hoped and prayed that I would not see him walking down the familiar sidewalk. But my prayers were ignored. The last thing I wanted to see on my way out of town and out of his life, was him. But there he was, looking as he always did, carelessly reading a book, drinking a coffee. It was heart-wrenching, but I did not stop. It was the only way.

Quotes from the Printing Palace

Well...I had another interesting yet tiresomely boring day at work. I thought it might be fun to compile a list of quotes from what I will call from now on, the Printing Palace, my place of employment.

Military guy enters Printing Palace.
Enter my insane boss, we'll call her Fang.

Fang: "OOh, where's your gun?"
Military Guy: "I ah, didn't bring it?"
Fang: "Ohh, next time you must show me your big gun!" Gush gush, flutter, flutter.

Fellow proofreader, we'll call her Ellen, comes to work, late as usual, but early for her.

Fang: "You know, you are like my dog. Should I give you a treat every time you're good?"
Ellen: "What?"

At one of our infamous "staff meetings", Fang drills the boys on their relationship status. She picks on one especially nervous Graphic Designer, we'll call him Christoph.

Fang: "So...do you have a girlfriend or what?"
Christoph: "No...I don't have a girlfriend."
Fang: "What? No girlfriend? What are you gay?"


One of my personal favourites: today's "staff meeting". For this one, I need to give a little background information. I work at a printing/publishing company. I am an Artwork/Proofing Supervisor. There is one proofreader, Ellen, and five Graphic Designers. There is one very special Graphic Designer, we'll call her Bao. Bao is an interesting character. She is about 4'3" and very good at what she does. She does not have a life outside of the Printing Palace. She works 11 or 12 hour days, willingly, and is pretty much the queen of the Palace. Bao does not have to answer to anyone. And if you get on her bad side, she will chew you out. Pretty much everyone is afraid of her, including my boss Fang, and the owner Jiang. So they cater to her.


Recently, Fang realized that Bao has too many dockets on her desk. This is a concern, not because jobs are becoming delayed, but because she worries it stresses her out too much. So, she told me, (I assign the dockets), to secretly assign jobs that should go back to her because they are repeats, to another artist. So I did. Bao caught me and chewed me out. This brings us to today's meeting, which Bao was not required to attend.


After giving everybody shit for one thing or another, she delves into her favourite topic: Bao's delicate disposition.


Fang: "Okay, we all know Bao gets frustrated really easy. I've asked Sharon (that's me) to lie to her. She lie to her all the time! She going to assign Bao's jobs to all of you, but if you have any problem, like you can't find on server, or you can't find font, do NOT go to Bao. Do not even talk to Bao okay? Even Sharon, she don't like to talk to Bao, I know. And Ellen, when you drop off a docket for corrections, you just drop it off an go! No talking! If you must, talk really fast! Think of Bao as like a tiger!"


In response to this ridiculous yet not surprising demand, I wrote a memo to the artists, (not Bao of course!) with a few of my own demands. I will share said memo here:


MEMO


Re: ARBITRARY RULES THAT MUST BE FOLLOWED BY ALL STAFF (and by all I mean the four people who were at the meeting, you know who you are.)


Anyone who wishes to speak with me must avoid eye contact and look only at the upper left corner of my forehead.


Also, in order to speak with me, you must be a leprechaun. if you are not a leprechaun, you must obtain permission from the Leprechaun Society of Canada (LSC) and present me with a signed copy of the permission slip.


Thank You.