trouble.

Sitting alone in a crowded room tonight, I realized:

I haven't written any poetry in 6 months.

...something is wrong.

miðvikudagur nótt

Just what the title says, yo. There's not much else to it. I'm bored.

It seems like to big moving process of August has just happened, when suddenly, I'm reliving it with exquisite similarity. Things? In boxes, slowly this time. Stuff? Garbaged, recycled, or donated. I am amazed at the amount of stuff I can manage to accumulate mindlessly. I'm a wannabe minimalist. I'm also awesome at parallel parking. Totally unrelated.

So, stuff in boxes. My abode is littered with empty Starbucks cup boxes I snagged from work (legitly) and I've been sitting, legs crossed, sifting through paperwork and knick-knacks deciding what gets to continue living it's tiny life with me, and what gets the axe. A lot stuff I feel like I need, genuinely! I already turfed 90% of my lovely little knick-knack swamped life back in August (which was a heartbreaker), and I'm sort of apprehensive to further rape myself of my identity. Because, really, that's what it is - it's like getting rid of myself. Even if it is for the best to purge myself of clutter, I feel like I'm losing myself more and more, and voiding my past from memory. I have a box of photographs under my bed that I can look at, but that hardly matters when I was so accustomed to being surrounded by life - my life.

I had this big memory board hanging on my wall for the entire duration of my high school life. It was just an ordinary cork board that was probably purchased at Sprawl-Mart for me for my 12th birthday, but it was so much more than that when I looked at it for the last time. It seemed like almost every day I'd add a bit of colour to it. I had napkins from my sister's graduation banquet, Valentines and postcards, dried flowers from opening nights of all the shows I managed, and pictures of the people I loved in photobooths all across the continent all affixed with coloured push pins. Things like that, that reminded me (should I ever forget) of the kinds of things I'd experienced and loved. It eventually became so full of memories that it took over the wall space around it, and was a feature that became a constant source of entertainment and conversation for every visitor to my little nest. My beloved memory board said bye-bye in August, though, when I knew that I had to downsize considerably for my big move. I picked all the best ones off the board and boxed them up, letting the rest of them sail off to the great big landfill in the sky, empty cork board broken and in hot pursuit. And I had never felt so empty - neither had my room.

I guess this is why I'm so unwilling to move again, because I know it just means I have to pick and choose what's worth keeping, which, we've now established, is no easy task. And let's not get misled here: I'm no pack-rat; I just find it très facile to rationalize keeping souvenirs of the past. It helps to envision the future.

And lately, that's all I'm about.

big city, blinking

I took a quick detour off the normal weekend scheddy to venture off to the greatest city in the world I've been to (so far). Shall I give ye the play-by-play? (You: Yes!)

'Kay.

I of course woke up, like, negative three minutes before I had to leave. Shameless, I know. It was a nice drive, and I ended up hitting the downtown core 'round 1-ish. I have to say, though, the Pattullo bridge being out really has traffic fucked up the ass. Sheesh. Anywho, I got my swagger on at 3 storey HMV and BMO debit had a guest starring role as I per-chazzed the Pavement cd I've been eyeing 4evaz. $28.99 well spent. Deluxe Edition reigns supreme! I also saw the prettiest drag queen of my life and broke my favourite sunglasses, which in turn broke my little heart. I snagged a quickie bite o' ethnic de-lite and vamped it up in Kitsilano (by accident), before finding my way back to where I wanted to be (downtown). Did I mention it cost me $5 to park for 2 hours? They don't make band-aids large enough to cover wounds like that. I got mad elevated near Gastown in the Observation Tower, post-Starbucks, and am in buckets of love with skylines. There really isn't much more that I find breath-taking than twinkling city lights that span for miles. I like places that never sleep. Continuing on...

I hit up Japanese for dinner (which would make that 2 nights in a row, now), and tested my gag jealousy reflex via Facebook mobile. Turns out that I see in green, but hey, let's not talk about it, shall we? I found a 24-hour Shopper's Drug Mart and I said: "Hey, a 24-hour drug store. Now, why on earth would you need one of those? What on earth could you possibly need at 3 in the morning from a drug store?" But then it hit me as hard as it probably just hit you, right? Right. After tiny adventures in the big city, I curled up in bed with Fjola and was hangin' with the Sandman pre-11 pm. Wowee!

This morning I woke up around 8:30 and promptly headed out towards the ocean. I wandered around Crescent Beach for a bit, but I eventually decided that my nipples could probably cut diamonds, so I headed to the mall for some hasty bargain hunting and to get fed. I wandered Old Navy, had breakfast at 'bucks. It was beauty. I bought some biz-caj work clothes and another Radiohead cd for less than $40. Now that is what I call some budget vacation-ing. I was homeward bound by 1, pulled into the driveway around 6. I would have been a little more timely if I had not stopped in a little town called Hope for some dirty, hopeless food....That was a bad joke. Get over it.

And here are the two most interesting things that I experienced on my mini-travels:

1) Did you know that there is Indian Style Chinese Food? Did you know that there is Chinese Style Indian Food? Did you know that both are available in vegetarian and non-vegetarian? But only one of those two are "excotic"? I love Vancouver. Vroom Vroom!
2) There's a rag-time version of Lou Reed's "Walk on the Wild Side". I would know, I heard it on the French radio channel while flippin' for tuneage. It was an amazing experience.

Someone once told me that you should take something from everywhere you go - not necessarily physically take something, but emotionally or spiritually...even just mentally. You know what I took from this? I took a wealth of new knowledge. I took away comfort and a sliver of happiness to add to my growing collection. I took away hope for the future -- my future, and my God, is it as bright as a hundred thousand blinking city lights.

Postcards from the future are better than those from the past.

long weekend.

I have 5 days off. This amazes me. I cannot recall the last time I had 5 days away from work.

And here I was hoping they would be relaxing and stress-free.

The imcompetencies of people never cease to entertain me. They also never cease to piss me off to the point of rabid fury. A woman at the post-office couldn't comprehend there being tax on a stamp, and refused to pay it, thus resulting in me having to wait 25 minutes to send a single letter.

The gal in charge of admissions and transcripts at Thompson Rivers Fuckuversity has no clue what a letter of complete withdrawal is, and thus cannot send one to UBSeein' Ya Soon. They can't accept me until they get this letter. They also are refusing to help me out by phoning TRUF-U to help them help me get them the letter. University ruined my life. It ruined it. I am not the first student to do this - this should not be this hard. HATEHATEHATEHATEHATE.

My back hurts, I'm agitated, and my mother won't stop calling me. I'm also bleeding from the unholiest of holies, which makes my emotions sprint from one extreme to the next. I also slept for 19 hours last night. I am still tired.

Did I mention I'm getting a promotion? Did I mention that promotion has an hour long interview attached to it?

I had wanted to get away this weekend to the big city to relax and not think about work or the future or anything. Yes, I'm going to the big city, but I already know it will be neither fun nor relaxing. It's going to be a pointless waste of time and money that will only stress me out further than I already am and make me want to shoot every single person I see in their fucking stupid ugly face. Bang bang.

I'm a little bit bitchy today. Can you tell?

What a way to start off the long weekend that I've been waiting for since mid-December. I think I'm going to go curl up into a little ball and cry for a few hours. That should make me feel at least a little bit better.

dance around your folk and soul

I spent an amazing twenty-four hours with an even more amazing someone. You fuckin' fox, you.

You know what's weird? Babies. Lately, that's all I think about. They're like people, except for not. They have no teeth or hair, and they're completely dependant on you. That's what scares me the most about babies - dependancy. It's like, here's this little person who needs you more than anything - what if you can't deliver? I'd want to give my baby the moon and the stars and everything beautiful. There are creatures whose children float away at birth, and those who throat-feed their young for weeks and never see them again...I'm so hormonal. deep sigh

You know what else is weird? Alcoholism as a disease. I'm not saying that it's not bad, I'm just saying that it's not correct to call it a disease. Does anyone choose to have cancer? No. However, people do choose to start drinking. And it's not like you can call in to work and be like "Hey, guys, I'm not going to be able to make it in again today - my alcoholism is acting up. Peace." If that were the case, I'd be shitfaced 3/7 nights a week. Or not. We've all heard the stories.

I felt really weird today, so I went for a highly therapeutic drive to the outskirts of nowhere and back. I also downed a 24oz. blue slushie. That's more sugar than I'm going to need for an entire year. You know, I regret that more than the half tank of gasoline I used/abused. It's cool, though - the bitchmobile's got the soul of a highly fuel-efficient Asian sports car. She's good.

Let me tell you what's really good, though: early '90s station wagons. I'm looking at you, Emily. And on that note, ciao.

wednesday morning.

I woke up this morning at 10:37.

There was a brightness behind my curtains that actually made me want to get out of bed. And I could hear birds outside. I still can. I left my window open all night in hopes that the fresh air would help remove everything that's been on my mind lately. I think maybe we've hit the de-thawing process that happens each year. It'd be awfully premature, but I'm game.

In my efforts to constantly downsize, I found some old diaries from my youth while I was clearing out drawers the other day. I read them. There were things like:

"Today mom says that we're going to take the dog to the park, but I don't want to because the last time we went, I fell off the swings and I didn't like that."

"Janelle farted in our clubhouse and now I call her Poo-Poo. Isn't that funny?"

These written in less than perfect and legible English, of course. The thing that strikes me about these weren't the brief time travel back to 1996, but more or less the kid-logic that I left there. You know, when you don't have to rationalize things except for "because".
Example: I fell of swings, it sucked, I didn't want to re-live it. End of story. That was all the reason I needed. Now, it's more or less: I fell off the swings and don't really want to re-live it, but my mother really wants to spend time with me, and walking is part of an active lifestyle, and I don't want to have a heartattack so maybe I should just do it because I have to. I'm not saying it's bad how things change, I'm just marvelling at how things actually did change. Another thing that's great when you're a kid? Everything is funny. You could say something completely ridiculous that makes no sense to anyone but you, but suddenly you're a comedic genius - especially because adults like to play along.

So, I guess I'm going to go get ready for work now, and as much as it sucks, I keep telling myself that it's not the worst thing that could happen to me today.

And I think that's a pretty solid way to look at things.

maps.

I wrote this last night in my notebook.

"Right now I'm sitting in the b-machine, and we're looking out over a snowy lake together. I vaguely know where I am; it seemed like a good idea to find something I've never seen before. I've only decided to pull over because the roads are getting fairly ugly, and I'm getting fairly heavy in my thoughts. I may be talented, but I'm not talented enough to write and drive.

It's so quiet out here. I think I may have finally found that one park that burnt four summers ago, because all the trees out here are just skeletons of themselves; black and white paintings in the snow.

I've passed two world-class wineries and a place for those with an affinity for artisan goat cheeses. It's beautiful here; it really is. It's just not my kind of beautiful.

This is what I do when I feel like this. I get in the car, and I go. I've wasted countless hours and gallons of gasoline, just driving around, listening to the same CDs loop endlessly. I'm trying to find myself, I suppose. It's like, maybe if I drive far enough or for long enough, all the answers will find me. Or, at least that's the hope.

The real truth is that I don't think I'll ever know that I'm looking for. I'm like that one shitty U2 song. Actually, that statement can be applied to all U2 songs, so let's just disregard it permanently. I'm losing my touch.

I'm going to turn the car back on now, and when I do, I know exactly what song will start playing. I know exactly where I'm turning the car on to go to. And after I go there, I know exactly what I'm doing for the rest of the night, the rest of the week, and for the rest of the month. Probably the rest of my life.

Isn't that horrible?"

Save me from mediocrity.

reeeeeeeeckonerrrrrrrrrr

"And here is the holy shrine of Fern McGee....

...patron saint of constant reassurance."

I don't know what it is about me. You could build me a home in your heart, surround me with lilacs and babies and all the stars in the sky and breathe for the both of us, but I'd still doubt how you truly feel.

This is the thing about human beings; nobody is ever truly emotionally stable. I think it comes down to a confidence thing - if you have enough confidence in yourself, then you simply don't care if anyone gives two shits about you. I'm not hesitant to say that I'm a ghetto confident lady (obvvy), so I find it particularly interesting that I constantly doubt the stability of my relationships with people, whether they're romantic or otherwise.

There's so many contributing factors to the heart of a relationship, friendship...whatever. It starts with how much you know about a person, and then how much trust you place in them. The more you trust a person, the more comfortable you will become with them, to the point where you know longer doubt anything about them. I used to place a lot of trust in people, but I'm finding it harder and harder to believe in people when I am constantly betrayed. Yo, it sucks for sure, because I really hate not being able to just...be. So now I've got this "I don't need you" 'tude, and won't believe what anyone ever says to me, whether it be "I love you" or whatever else.

"Friend": "There's gum in your hair."
Moi: "Liar!"

Blah blah blah, I give up. I'm having one of those extreme moments where I can't find the words I need to find the words to make things make sense. I guess what I'm saying is that I need to always know how everyone feels. I need to be constantly reassured that I matter and that I'm important and that I'm needed. Otherwise, I simply don't want to bother, because I give up at even the slightest sign of weakness in someone. I just don't have the energy to fight for anything anymore.

You're gonna need to be patient with me.

The Future Is Now.

Holy moley, it's 2009.

Funny how that happens, hey? Like, you're just minding your own business, feedin' the kids, payin' the bills, when suddenly you have to go out and buy a new calendar because the numbers won't match up anymore. Damn, right?

It feels like I've merely skimmed over the months of 2008, like it's all just a distant memory or a crazy-ass acid dream of some sort. It went by hella fast, for sure. I was going to do a year in review sort of deal, but then I realized that my entire year is documented all proper and shit right here on ye ol' blog (minus January-beginning of March...but those weren't exciting times anyways). Plus, not every moment of this past year I'd like to recall, so I'll just leave it in the past where it belongs.

My new year's eve was mediocre, at best. I went over to Scoot-o's place for some alcohol infused fun, which turned out to be the very opposite because I barely drank anything due to having to work at noon the next day. There was also gay boy antics, in which Scott was absolutely certain that Ross was trying to steal Dylan. And this is when I was all "wtf, mate?" and passed out on the sofa. Easy fix. And something else charming? My boss (Kelly Muthafuckin' Mcpherson) made an impromptu celebrity appearance at the soiree, drank her cute little face off and had a good snuggle with the porcelain, if you get what I'm saying. Adorable! Btdubz, my new year's smoochie was Mr. Dylan, all homo and sippin' the vodka sauce. So good.

I made some resolutions, of course, as I do every year. The only difference about this year's is that I actually intend on sticking to them...which I say every year. So, here they are, in no particular order:

1) Be zen It's so much easier to just move on than to dwell on things and be a grumpy bitch. It's funner to be a grumpy bitch, but I find that people have a tendency to like you a whole lot less. I just want to be pretty, bright and bubbly constantly.
2) No more Starbucks That's a lie. It's more like...Starbucks in moderation. And no pastries, because I flipped through the nutritional guide the other day, and trust me: that shit is sick.
3) Be sooo good at yoga Self-explanatory. In the words of a close friend, I just want to fold.
4) Invest Like, the economy is all fucked and whatever, so I figure now's a good time to make significant contributions to my RRSP. I'd like to retire when I'm 40. Is that too ambitious?
5) Go green! Because I love the earth, and I want it to be preserved for Summer and her babies one day. Everyone's babies!

I read my horoscope briefly today, and this is what my year is going to look like. I like the one I read in the Province newspaper a lot better, though. You go, Georgia Nicols!

And to wrap things up, let me tell you about my last year's new year's festivities. I watched Ginger Rogers and Fred Astaire movies with two of my favourite people. It was lovely, and it seems like just yesterday that it happened. I was told once that life is like a roll of toilet paper; the closer you get to the end, the faster it goes.

Am I going to die soon?

PTFO, life.

P.S. My hurr is teint de rouge. Merci, Clairol!
P.P.S. I'm off the market, officially. I am no longer selling shares of FMCG at the TSX. Muah! <3