Truth

The funeral was on Friday. It was at the Legion. The most important portion of the service was the contributions made by family and friends who shared a little piece of how their lives had been touched by this man.

We heard from a son just how much his father meant to him. We heard about those lectures that went on and on, every weekend, and how they always ended with "I love you" and then were forgotten about - until next weekend.

We heard from a step-daughter who couldn't speak without sobbing about this man who was no longer here. Who let us all know how lucky she had been to have had two sets of parents.

We heard stories from a friend about how this man never complained, ever. Not about living with one arm paralyzed after a run-in with a moose. Not about his night-blindness that he knew would eventually steal his vision altogether.

We heard humorous stories from more than one person about how he would walk into inanimate objects and apologize to them.

And we heard from the man that was first married to his wife. We heard how this man called up "the ex" and directly asked where he stood with him. How he always asked for his input on raising his step-daughter. And we heard how grateful he was that this man came into his ex-wife's life. How grateful he was to have found a new friend.

This was Bill. I met him when I was a teenager. He was my best friend's step-dad. But it wasn't until I moved to this city that I came to know him. I was apprehensive about spending time with him because most of what I knew of him came from the angst of a teen. To be honest, I was pretty sure he was a bully and a big jerk.

Many years later I would see him again at my best friend's wedding. This also happened to be where I met her close cousin, now my boyfriend of six years. I was completely taken aback at how welcome Bill made me feel. I wasn't in the wedding party. I didn't hold this against her. I was living in a different province after all, and honestly, we had grown apart over the years. But Bill seemed to take it personally, and he just wouldn't let it go. He could not understand why I was not the maid-of-honour. I was secretly pleased.

I will never forget how he tried to shelter me from his nephew. Everybody watched and laughed as my best friend's cousin would inch closer and closer to me on the couch, and I would inch closer and closer to the edge of the couch until there was no where left for me to go. How Bill, half joking, half serious, told him to "leave her alone! She's a nice girl!" How he told me over and over how beautiful I was, inside and out. This changed as he got to know me of course, but he always let me know that he cared. He always made me feel like I was a part of his family.

Even on those bad nights.

Over time, my opinionated-nature came out around Bill, who was also very opinionated. And stubborn. And sometimes a little belligerent when drinking. I was not the only one left with memories of arguments, some more bitter than others. I remember one night, we were all drinking at his house, and somehow Bill and I got into it over something I don't even remember. Whatever it was, it resulted in Bill saying something pretty mean, that really touched a nerve. I locked myself in the bathroom and cried until Bill somehow unlocked the door and hugged me and took it all back.

It was impossible to hold a grudge against Bill. It's true that I had once again become a little apprehensive about spending time with him. You just never knew what would come out of his mouth next. But this didn't change what I had come to know as his truth.

And his truth was love. Whatever else happened, you always knew that one fact.

That he loved. A lot. And he was loved. A lot. And that's a truth that will never die.

We love you Bill.

Cosmic Failure

Okay, I haven't written in a while. So here goes.

It's 9:08 in the evening. I am currently listening to Blue Foundation. I'm considering leaving my office chair to purchase some items from the liquor store: vodka and triple sec. Yes, that's right folks, I am considering a Cosmo thanks to my Savi friend ;-)

So what have I been up to other than moping, crying and generally freaking out? Not much. On the music front I've only been to one event - a fundraiser featuring a co-worker in a great local band. We stuck around for their set and another band's but didn't stick around after that.

Tomorrow I'm going with my co-worker B, to watch a different friend participate in Round 3 of a province-wide battle-of-the-bands type thing. He's a great musician and has agreed to give me beginner guitar lessons! Yay! I decided to ask him first before going somewhere else. I think he will be a great teacher and as a bonus I can help support a friend. So it's a win-win.

I had a huge blow-out with my insane boss the other day. I knew it was coming. I don't feel like delving in to the boring details but I left her office knowing that I am finally ready to move on from the nut-house. Course, the anxiety I am going to experience as a result of this revelation may send me to an actual nut-house, but whatev. At least I will be out of there.

-

So, here's the thing. I made my Cosmo last night. Had a few sips and fell asleep. With my contacts in. And the lights and the television on. I woke up at 6:00 AM feeling like crap. Slept for a few hours more.

So my Cosmo was a completely fail. I will have to try harder tonight.

Anyway, I'm still plugging away at my second draft. I once thought I would really enjoy the editing process. But I have to say, I was wrong. It's slow and tedious and frustrating.

And it's how I'm spending my day.

Off to editing drudgery.

Stake Through the Heart

I'm sitting in my favourite place to go for lunch and have ordered a vegetarian stir fry. I left a little earlier than usual because I honestly think if I stayed another minute I would have had a melt down. I guess I already had a little one. I sat in the bathroom for 10 minutes alternating between crying and trying not to cry. Finally I just said "fuck it. I'm getting out of here".

It was very difficult to get out of bed this morning, like it is every morning. I even got more sleep than usual because I know being really tired amplifies everything. But it didn't help. I open my eyes and the first thing I think about is why do I bother? The first thing I think of doing is putting a stake through my heart. One that's long enough to go right through my chest and pin me to the bed I feel so trapped in.

Well my food is here now. One of the reasons I like coming to this place is because of the Thai radio station they usually listen to, which I find oddly soothing, and the fact that I'm usually alone in here. The ambience is different today.

I think I'm listening to The Backstreet Boys.

Okay. Must eat. May write later.

Things get better with food, right?

Automatic Thoughts

My monster is back with a vengeance. All I can do is look around me at the people all going about there day like there's some kind of point to it. But there isn't. Not really. At least not for me.

I don't know how many times in a day I have those automatic thoughts of death: suicide, horrible accident, just plain giving up and turning to dust. But they seem to be my constant companion now.

The Social Experiment Continues

The MP3 Experiment was...interesting. Good wholesome family fun. I think it would have been more enjoyable if I had been drunk. Or at least a little tipsy. But I would definitely be interested in doing something like that again. It was this improv group that was involved with the Public Library, in an effort to recruit more patrons I guess. We had Edward the Omnipotent voice on our MP3 players giving us strange instructions. We did it in the Square and it was a lot of pretending to be a statue and shaking hands with strangers and the like. It was funny. It would have been funnier if we had spread out around town so that we could encounter people who had know idea what in the Hell we were doing. But, it was a fun hour or so.

The same person who conned me into the MP3 Experiment, B, has me going paddling with her next week. Can't wait. I know my arms are going to want to fall off afterwards because I am so out of shape. It's not that I'm not trying. It's just the universe always seems to want to mess with me. I get into the working out thing, and then I get sick for two and a half weeks, or my boyfriend's insane family comes to visit and stays forever...then I'm out of my routine and it feels like starting all over again. Speaking of, I'm on Day 2 of starting all over again.

So, on April 26, I went to Band of Skulls. It was amazing. I love these guys. I mean really love them. I may have a girl crush on the bass player. She rocks. Opening for Band of Skulls was Saint Hotel and Silver Starling. Both were pretty great, though I favoured the latter. And it just makes it all the better that they apparently are connected to Arcade Fire. Yay! I love Arcade Fire. According to the paper, "Frontman Marcus Paquin engineered and mastered albums for the band, and his wife, Marika Anthony-Shaw — Silver Starling’s keyboardist/violinist — played viola on Arcade Fire’s Neon Bible tour." I had so much fun that night. I was a little worried my mood wouldn't make way for the awesomeness that is Band of Skulls, but by the second opening act, my mood had greatly improved, and by the time BOS got on stage, I was all smiles. Literally. I couldn't remove the giant grin from my face. I was pretty giddy. Too bad for me it was a Monday. Work the next day was Hell.

Next on the Social Experiment agenda:Paddling with B on Tuesday, then my friend from university days is coming to town and staying with me for a couple of days starting Thursday. I hope to drag her to an event on Friday, called Funky vs Fresh, as someone I use to work with is going to be playing there with his band.

Book Update: I have made a little more progress on my second draft. I am now on page 53. Out of 318 pages.

Check out Silver Starling, my title links to "Ghosts".

The Social Experiment

Today I puked just before leaving for work. I decided to call in and say I'm not feeling well just in case it happens again. So here I am at home, making playlists that remind me of my story and writing. The title of the blog links to my latest playlist.

I am happy to say that the last couple of days I have been working on the second draft of my book. The down side is, I'm on page 16 out of 318 pages, and it took me hours to get that far. Oh well, at least I feel like I'm making progress. I decided to work on the stuff that doesn't stress me out and overwhelm me first. Then at least it will be more coherent before I start really dissecting it.

On Friday I went to my sorta friend's place and stayed the night there with her and her four year old son. I was worried that it would feel really awkward because we have only hung out once and it was because we had a mutual friend who came to visit from Toronto. But it actually wasn't that bad. I'm not really that comfortable around kids, so I was also worried about that, but this little guy was such a charmer. It was a relaxing time. I came over after work and supper was ready for me. We had a pasta and vegan sausage. We went for a walk and went out for ice cream then we watched Dr. Horrible because I'm obsessed and will eventually be able recite the entire three acts. We had a couple of glasses of red wine and discussed how crazy we are. In the morning she made organic vegan orange poppy-seed pancakes with sunflower seeds. Yum. We went for a long walk and then I was on my way home.

On Saturday we had a friend and his daughter over for supper. It was the first time we lit up the BBQ this year. Nothing is better than the smell of BBQ. I love it. It's funny, I think it probably has the same effect on a lot of people. Like everyone has at least one happy memory associated with a barbecue, and this feeling is conjured whenever we smell sizzling meat. I find it comforting.

This upcoming Friday I am taking part in something called the MP3 Experiment. Should be a good time. I heard it was something that started in New York? Basically, everyone involved downloads an MP3 off this website and we're not allowed to listen to it until a certain time on Friday. Then in a public place at a specific time, everyone listens to the MP3 with earphones and has to do whatever it says. Should be pretty funny. The co-worker I took to see Matthew Barber sucked me into it. She's always involved in these funny little projects. It's my first time.

So that's where I'm at right now. Still taking part in the social experiment. Trying to spend time with actual humans, trying to have fun, trying to make some sort of progress. Not sure what to think of it all right now.

I'm going to do some editing on my book, and then if I'm feeling better I will go to work. I swear it. Seriously.

Ugly Truths

So the free tickets for Bare Naked Ladies fell through. I should have known that anything arranged by my boyfriend's sister wouldn't work out. I guess that's okay, since I haven't really listened to them since high school. I just thought it would be nice to take in a free concert of a band that I don't normally listen to. My co-worker asked if I wanted to go see The Cat Empire in July. I'm not sure I want to yet. Their music just seems so happy.

Today, my work day started out with my insane boss screaming her head off for about 45 minutes. I'm not even exaggerating. This guy admittedly makes a fair amount of mistakes at his job, but there is just never any excuse to yell at an employee as if they were five years old. It's humiliating, and she's done it to us all at one time or another. Well, I don't think she's actually yelled at me while we are alone in the same room, she seems to know better, to know that I wouldn't take that shit from her. But she has yelled at me amongst a group of us lucky employees. It just makes me so angry.

There's nothing fair about the way things are done at my place of employment. Some employees seem to get away with a lot, and others, like today's victim, seem to be constantly bullied, picked on, singled-out and used as the scapegoat. It's just such a ridiculous place to work. Absolutely ridiculous.

So why don't I look for other work? Well because that would be logical, and I am nothing if not illogical, at least in the decisions I make. My thoughts are actually very logical, at least I think they are. It's my actions that don't make sense. Basically, what I've realized is that I stay in the mouth of Hell (as I like to call it), because I do benefit from it in some way. Despite the stress, despite the unfairness and the craziness and the ridiculousness and the lack of professionalism, there are some benefits to staying. I have internally weighed the pros and cons (see, very logical): the stress of staying in the mouth of Hell, versus the stress of looking for another job and starting again as a new employee. Also, I do get away with some things that probably wouldn't fly elsewhere. For instance, I am constantly late, my lunch hour seems to be pretty flexible, I can roll my eyes and glare at people all I want without being reprimanded, I can dress as casually as I want, and most people seem to be able to take a month long vacation every summer. I haven't tested that last one out yet, as I can't afford it. These silly little perks are all I have. If I had a job that I actually cared about, none of those things would matter of course.

The thing is, when it comes to real life, I am really, really bad at it. I can't emphasize that enough. I can't even give all the details of how badly I have sabotaged my own future. Even though this blog is anonymous, I can't admit it in writing, how much of a failure I am. This relates to my job situation because I have a mental breakdown every time I have to look for a job, and I'm not sure I can do it anymore. I make myself physically sick over it. The anxiety is too much. Just the thought of sitting in a interview makes my hair stand on end, and gives me a sick feeling. My resume was decent at one time, but it was always the interview that got me. I have never been good at faking it, and I feel that's what I have to do at interviews. Because really, who wants to hire a moody, depressed loner?

So there you have it. I would rather stay at my dead-end job than look for another. This has been at the back of mind for a while. I didn't want to admit to anyone, or myself, why I stayed at this job that I'm constantly complaining about. But that is the ugly truth. I stay because I want to.