You weird people.
I have been thinking over the course of the week, about this whole abolition of the blog thing.
* I've noticed that I do this every year, around the same time, where I decide that my writing is really immature, and thus, end up stepping it up a notch. However, it usually takes some freshness and interest to do so, and as has been the pattern, it involves a change of scenery.
*It will be different. Less personal disclosure. More random shit.
*I was sitting in the bathtub today, and the phone rang, and I answered it, and felt so guilty about answering the phone in the tub that I DID agree to pay fourteen dollars for a month's subscription to the journal. He asked me if I was over eighteen, and when I said 'yes', he told me he loved me. Poignant.
*However, I do feel the need for some massive alone time, so anything new and upcoming won't be in the books for a while (namely, until I get so full of things that I'm about to burst from the pressure).
*If I were pregnant, this is what my body would feel like, right now. Waterlogged, and bloaty. And... not relevant.
*I was reading though my stats, being all nostalgic and whatnot, and noticed that a lot of people are into arcade fire lyrics, as well as atmosphere and sage francis lyrics, and whatnot, when googling. Funny, but interesting. Though not as interesting as the person who searched "blogspot septapus unhinged" and "my baby's got rabies." Interestingly enough, there also seem to be a fair amount of people who have actually read the book "Fortune's Rocks", a random title snatched out of the den of my grandmother.
*That is all.
 Can you get pregnant if you have sex on the last day of your period unprotected? Someone asked me this today, and I gave them the "are you fucking retarded?" look, and then realized I didn't know the answer. For the sake of humanity as we know it, I'm hoping... not.
Bye blog--I'm leaving!
I woke up this morning and discovered that the little arabic mantra capsule I wear everywhere was missing the cap and the tiny little scroll that I had written "Above all else, people are what matter the most in life" in blue ballpoint ink. It's like physical proof of being a broken person.
So I'm done with this blog. I'm going to leave it up for a week or so however, and I will still have this
for creative purposes, but now I return into being a "mysterious enigma", which is basically a lie because I have no self disclosure. To hear me whine now though, you'll have to talk to me in person.
It's been a slice. Thanks to you who cared, bitched, and corrected my constant errors in general knowlege about life and music. I will still visit.
Today was okay-ish. I slept quite late at my aunt's place, and then was quiet and still for most of the day. WestJet and I went to the Roost, and I danced a little bit. I just feel out of it. I'm worried about my whole life right now, if such a thing were possible.
I've been thinking lately that I ought to just stop blogging altogether, and just join the land of the living. I'm starting to wonder whether this "purging" that I seem to do quite regularly in the view of all my friends is necessarily a healthy or functional thing. Because there are so many nuances to it. What we talk about, what we don't talk about, things we should say to each other in person (and don't), and whatnot. I think I need to return to being a fully functional autonomous being again. Once I get my slap in the face on Tuesday, accompanied with quitting the blog game, I think I'll be able to pull up my socks.
Some, maybe not many, have noticed that I have steadily increased the amount that I am drinking, smoking, and doing generally awful things. I will also be putting a stop to all of this. I deign that if I can quit smoking, I will permit myself to "smoke" again, but not until then, and even so, return to my sporadic and solo ways.
This is me pulling it together. Is it working? I'm turning my spongy soul into a rock again.
I forgot to mention...Convocation for people has been occurring all week, and my day to witness the fuss that I will have to endure next year (or never, perhaps, if I don't get my act together) occurred today with Fenton's fuss and hullabaloo.
It was funny, and funnily enough, rather rad to run from the parking lot in torrential downpour to get the Butterdome. The run was good, and I guess it's silly, but I love being in the rain, period. It was hilarious.
The convocation itself was pretty good, except I kept blanking out during the slew of names, and swearing at Fenton's crappy digital camera. There are a lot of frustrated pictures involving the top of the head of the lady sitting in front of me, in night shots, and automatic. Fucking thing. Fucking head. And then, when his name actually got called, his camera turned off. Not that it would have mattered, because I'm fairly certain that zoom-included, everything in those pictures at that height, is going to show up as multicolored dots shining in an overexposed darkness. I could have taken a picture in the Z's and passed it off as him, it was that bad.
Later, the Fenton family treated me to supper at Chili's, which was pretty cool. I enjoy hanging around them, they're just fun. Except the food kind of sucked, but it didn't even matter, it was just fun. And I got to see Super Dog, and his Jedi Master, Flash, which was also nice. Weirdly enough, there are a lot of strange bitey rabbits in innocuous places in his house right now. Walk into the hallway--BAM, rabbit. Walk into the living room--BAM, rabbit, same breed, but different colors. What does the big pill do again? I miss Jefferson Airplane, they ruled.
You can't stop me now--no you can't stop me...
Last week, I meant to mention that DSL must be the undoing of drunks everywhere...because it's so "fast". Ha ha. Seriously...dial-up would have been the biggest discouragement ever at that point.
I've had a good night. Good, because I danced myself silly, and didn't get drunk, and thus, didn't do anything hopelessly retarded. And also good, because I realized that some boys do pass under the bridge faster then others. Like, lickety split in a fit of platonia. And for that I'm grateful for just really good friends. On that topic though, I've realized I'm getting a little angsty about all this relationship crap. And the stagnation I like to call Mr. Pink, is of no help. Furthermore, I need a "plunk your goddamn ass down and talk normally" closure session I think, but I don't know how to get it. Well, perhaps I just have. Because we can't keep countering each other meanly with, "well, I think so and so's hot- HA!" Because it doesn't work, and it makes me angry, and probably, and unfortunately, vicious, and I don't want that.
They played really good music at Halo tonight, except for all "The Killers". All of a sudden I am very "je deteste" about the Killers. They just need to stop the pain, and go quietly away into the night I think. Although, rocking out to "These things" wasn't that bad tonight.
Another thing: I stopped dancing in the middle of a really overplayed Arcade Fire song tonight, and just stood still. It was the craziest thing; constant kinetic energy burning up around me in all its odourous glory, and it was like the lack of movement created this silent bubble of a void right where I was standing. Still lots of people, but I felt invisible, which obviously I wasn't, because people who stand still on dancefloors at 1:30 am, are pretty conspicuous I imagine, depending on the consumption of spirits by the masses at that time.
And wonderful surprises-- the cat lady DID show up, and I was so incredibly happy that she did. I absolutely love the kid-- it doesn't matter what, but we're always on the same page, and she just loves me back, no matter what shitty things I do, or rather, do not do. Additionally, a certain man of a very noble last name was there, and I love seeing him. He's clark kent when he enters, but absolutely superman on the dancefloor, and always has a smile on his face, no matter what. I don't know if he knows how uplifting it is just to see him with that smile when I do. We may never talk, but we always have the mutual knowing smiles.
Got a bit ranty at Chicago Deep-dish, and got ...something by total strangers, and was mildly embarrassed. It would have been better had I been intoxicated, but I wasn't, just loud and belligerent all around. And probably rude and caustic, and ...oh the terribleness.
Now I think I may get some sleep. Fenton, if you read this, my sailing day has been postponed to sunday, so we can do some photographical tourage tomorrow if you want. I'm totally game.
Congratulations, you have all the allure of an asexual snail.
I can hear the birds and the sun is coming up. Fuck. But it was a good walk home.However, I spent a ridiculous amount of money today-- I must remedy this and become cheap like Russia soon, or else I will be living somewhere unsavory and within the family bubble again. But it was worth it-- totally. I feel kind of dumb for not realizing the fun that Hydrass is until now. Too bad he has a thing for wealthy oil baronesses.
Man, my life has not been very interesting lately. I am looking forward to Friday.
In other news-- I think the Cat Lady may be pissed at me, because she was the one person I forgot to inform that yesterday's Raving Poet thing didn't occur. And she probably showed up, and I'm probably that much more into her bad books because of it. Woe is me when it comes to maintaining friendships involving girls. We expect so much, you know?
Last night was still a horrible flaming plane crash though, on the subject. For some reason, I got it into my head that I should just be nicer to Westjet, instead of plotting against him all the time and see how that worked out. It worked out in that my best friend got horribly pissed off that WestJet tagged along on our consumerist sojourn, and ...pretty much stayed that way for the whole night, while Westjet got mad at me for being angry about it, and so on and so forth. The big circle of rage, it is maddening. I know that being Westjet's friend is most unhealthy...but he's been around for a while now. Like three years almost. Scary. Have I really been this patient for three years?
I really have to stop spending money. And I really have to quit smoking. I need to sit down tonight and organize myself, period, because everything I'm doing is still flying in the wind a bit.
I had a reaffirmation of how ill-suited I am for my job because of my brain. I thought of this terrific story idea while we were bagging leaves (62 bags = a days work) and promptly stopped doing what I was doing to think about it some more--which in this case, was actually holding the bag that the leaves were being dumped into. Insert confused looks all around.
I heard today that Pearljam sold out. Part of me is upset, but the other part is saying, "you don't like them as much as Nirvana anyways." Truthfully, there will be better concerts to attend than that. I say this now....
And better and best news? I bought some film the other day, as well as brought my camera bag over from the old house. I have all my gadgetry, and get to try it out this friday at the big "C is for congratulatory convocational sensational" event.
Like lambs to the slaughter
Have you ever been so utterly encompassed with all the bits of the world that perhaps are more dark and twisted then most, and then walked outside and seen two day old fawns stilting precariously around in a field? It's the weirdest thing, because here's you, who laughs at a movie about mass suicides, even when she thinks about said movie, standing completely dumbfounded in the blinding sunlight, and all you can think (or evidently, say) is, "awwwwww...they are SO adorable..."
Blast! My tough facade, it is transparent!
Today was a delicious day spent sleeping in until seven o'clock, and then sleeping some more with my eyes open at city hall, where we the huddled orange masses learned many interesting things like --it isn't illegal if you are not wearing a seatbelt when you back up. You don't have to wear a seatbelt if you are a courier, going under 40 km/h. Even if you blow under 0.08, you can still get arrested if it's in the sevens. And that it is better to hit an object moving in the same direction as you opposed to oncoming, or a standing object. I find this a little weird, because rentacop told us this while explaining you should avoid head-on collisions as much as possible, and basically advocated sideswiping or "grazing" another car next to you if you could.
Of course with any driver's training comes the obligatory spiel about drinking and driving, which we actually spent a lot of time on surprisingly. It was interesting though, because there was a lot of moral condemnation going on, but there was just as much detailed discussion on what you "can get away with." It also just struck me as odd and slightly wrong how nonchalant everyone was being about the whole drinking and driving thing. AND THEN, I wondered if this was our fault...have we desensitized ourselves to this whole thing?
Bend over and smell my stinking satisfaction at a job well done.
I have had such a sweet sweet day. First ten hour shift of the summer, and it was fucking long, bitterly cold and generally unenjoyable. Unenjoyable that is, until the end when I experienced some stinking awesome victory.
Today was monthly evaluation day. Today was also the day that my mowing crew ditched me at Father Jean hill and made my foreman extremely angry, as well as myself. Today was consequently the day that I chewed out said crew thoroughly at our last break, having realized that I had to jump in and take the reigns that no one seemed to be holding insofar as...organization and communication. This sounds so cliched, but the looks on their faces ... although I imagine the look on my face was pretty incredulous too when they tried to defend taking long breaks and shredding garbage, and sloppy workmanship.
Direct quote: "I find it offensive when you go behind me and cut the stuff that I've already done. Just because I have a different cutting style doesn't mean--"
Cutting style? Hold the phone. I didn't know that not cutting all the grass
that should be cut, was a cutting style. And of course, I didn't have anything better to do then clean up your messy job. It was at this moment where I realized that it wasn't the case of having work ethic and just slacking off, but the fact that this was work ethic
, upper class style.
So yeah, my crew doesn't hate me, but they are perhaps a little miffed. Surprisingly though, we talked about an arranged work alienation so I don't have to deal with them pissing me off as we cut, and that might go ok. They were fairly good about it, but called me a perfectionist. Hah.
And to cap my day off, I didn't get fired directly on the spot of my eval. such as I was half-expecting, because I know that my attitude has been absolute garbage since I started. I did slightly better then I normally do across the board, except (surprise surprise, on account of piss poor organizational skills of the crew, and sloppy workmanship) my quantity was down, as well as safety practices. Insert knowing glance and raised eyebrow from foreman here. He has known me long enough that he knows that I'm only reckless when I'm pissed off.
Another thing: after my eval, I was able to just sit down with Boss and have a good long talk with him about everything, and apparently, though he hadn't indicated it at all prior, he is on the exact same page as me. I was thoroughly stunned and chewed him out for it. In the end, I think we're back to "getting along like friends" terms again.
As for what I've been THINKING about all day? Drunken email reperations, greeting cards, bridal shower and convocation gifts, suitcase pimps, and driving to Mexico on a 72" Toro. I suppose there will be a poetry reading tomorrow though....I can't wait.
Bulleted lists seem to be the in thing du jour, and plus I’m too lazy to do much else, so here is the latest. Granted, it would be more authentic if I actually remembered the code for bullets, but whatever:
• It seems my life is a constant experiment of finding the worst possible things to do after getting extremely drunk the night prior. Like sailing. Correction, the first sail of the year. Waking up with no moisture in your body and the ability to lick pure alcohol off your skin, and then endeavoring to gain ‘lake’ legs for an afternoon in the blazing hot sun = awesome. Even more awesome then a 2000 foot mountain climb on an actual hang-over. I must have hit my head in the berth a million times, but honestly, I had fun. It was really great to be on the boat again, and I actually found myself realizing that I missed seeing my aunt more often. Which, as a rule, is fucking strange.
• While we were at the lake, I had a sobering moment. Boat owners in the space diagonal from us, are trying to sell their boat, because they just bought a new Cata Vigo 38, which is a fucking amazing sailboat. To top it off, they’re retiring and every winter they will be spending their time in Mexico sailing the west coast in said boat for six months. So, not a “winter”. They pay $0.17 per foot/day for mooring fees in Mesazlatan (spelling?), and $75 bucks a month to have someone keep an eye on it, clean it (even diving to scrub the bottom). So, the point was, is that this guy not so tactfully or succinctly came over to show us the pictures and tell us the whole thing, and meanwhile my aunt is sitting there, with the prospect of having to sell her boat, being in debt for the rest of her life, and never being able to retire, much less do anything fun ever again. And I felt really bad, but I did also realize that I am not in that position. Hopefully I never will be, but I’m not. And the world is currently my oyster. But it was funny because the only thing I could think of past that was, “this means that I’ll be able to buy a boat and bring her out on it.” And I will, because honestly, she screwed up, and she’s over her head, but the thought of her suffering for it for the rest of her life is kind of terrifying. I feel so bad for her.
In all utter seriousness--I've decided that I do want a boat when I am able to have one, but I'll get a twelve footer, maximum length. And part of me has an insane interest in getting a small catamaran, though I've only been on one once. I do want to ocean cruise, but you can rent boats to do that for cheaper. Same experience minus drydock fees, marina fees, and all the fucking maintenance. There you go, a materialistic want. I'm not perfect afterall.
• Yesterday, as is massively repetitive by now, Fenton, Hydrass and myself went out drinking. And I cannot honestly say that I have had such a fun time in a long time, nor gotten so incredibly drunk. You know those dumb BP commercials with that guy with the ridiculous hat? You thought he was just stupid and socially defunct, but after the prices and beer last night…I realized that he’s like the regular town drunk thrown into a family commercial. Drunk! And surprisingly, the music there last night wasn’t too shabby. However, everything after the cab I sort of blanked on, although I was reminded of it after curiously viewing the embarrassing hideousness that was lying in my “sent mail” box this morning. And we always think we’re secretly “aware” of the awful things we do or say when we’re drunk…but I wasn’t. Never before has my jaw dropped in amazement at my own sheer stupidity. Like, fuck.
• Saw a deformed cat that had a curl in its tail that was …stuck together at one point, and then normal again. Very friendly, and vaguely creepy.
• Had a hard time holding onto cigerettes, and completely lacked my mad pool skillz, and dragged around about five pounds of rocks across the highlevel bridge, amongst all the other detritus that is usually in my bag.
• Rocks: potash and ____quartz (memory bad!). And I was looking at them closer today, and they’re fucking amazing. I’m feeling guilty, because they are actually so awesome. He also showed us where the geo undergrad lab rocks are dumped on campus, and we raided that, which was orgasmic.
• Prior to this really nice generous fit of nerdiness, Hydrass also brought us to his workplace to show us the film, and damn. I wasn’t sure what to expect, other than “it’s good, black and white-- Listen.” It was fucking awesome. I was really impressed.
• I actually enjoyed work on Friday, past the reason that it was a Friday. It was actually fun. There is one girl on my crew who was on my night crew last year, and I really enjoy her company, and what has happened is that we have become the tag-team elected for the better jobs (mowing jobs) because we’re really good together. This includes our amazing abilities to actually pick up litter and not shred it, and do things in an organized fashion, and actually…take fifteen minute breaks, on our fifteen minute breaks. If this keeps up, the summer will be nice. And this Friday—and the next, and the next and the next ….I HAVE OFF! SO SWEET!
• Fenton asked me to go to his convocation. Awww. And I told him I'd kick his ass if he ever started smoking.
• I located my stash.
That is all.
Why do you get all the love?
So...I've been listening to the new NIN cd all day, and oh my fucking god... I never get tired of it, it is fantastique!
My day, has been one of upheaval. My foreman for some reason has turned into a bit of a jack ass, and at one point (two years ago) we were actually friends, so this bothers me tremendously, even moreso, because he jumps on me for every little error while the rest of my "perfect" crew gets away with bloody murder. I understand that he expects a lot more from me, and therefore when I slip up that it's odd, but he's been a dick lately. Ugh, this sounds so base. Understandably though, I don't like being blamed for wrongs I did not commit. Makes me mad, it does.
So, the Boss snapped at me yesterday and again today for completely paltry reasons, and with "lectures" that are so old and tired and garbage, but still manage to make me feel like shit, because I'm very capable at any work I do there, and he knows it. I'm not being a braggart either-- you don't have to be a rocket scientist to do this shit and do it well. Today was just disgusting though. I was tired, and feeling antisocial (the presence of a certain WestJet for every single fucking day this week is taking it's toll), and the Boss felt like I was being an ingrate for some reason. The guy just took a course on peer relations in the workplace, and you'd think he'd know when people just need to be left alone, rather then badger them about "team spirit". Oh team spirit... tepid bathwater left to stagnate in the sun!
Really, I just felt down. I'm not sure over what, but just generally pissy. Overall, it was not the greatest day, other then getting to cut Celebration Gardens all by myself, and doing a spanking good job of it. I got stuck in a schoolyard though and ripped some nice little troughs into the grass when I got pushed out. Thrilling. Exhilerating. I fucking hate this job.
I think that's actually the stem of the problem right there. This used to excite me, and I used to actually enjoy it, (whine whine whine) but now, I genuinely feel trapped in it. And suprisingly enough, the reason sounds trifle, but it's because I'm not ganging any more (as in, cutting fields autonomously). I really really loved being out on my own, doing my own thing, with minimal human contact. However, with staying on days and consequently, at Meadowview, there is no ganging to be had. It's seventy-twos (the small ride-ons) for the whole summer. The flock of ditzy lazy girls.
But, more upbeat news. Turns out that St. Thomas' has open mike nights on thursday and friday, so I went down there tonight and read a poem. The only thing is, is that there is like a ten person audience, max, and no one had "done" poetry before. They were more then happy to accomodate, but then I was internally pressed to rifle through my stuff and find a poem "appropriate" for the crowd of ...older people and their small children. It was not good. I read one called "bats" which I kind of like, but it's pretty corny (I realized this half-way through...why would that happen?). They liked it, but still, I think that a poem about bats in the beginning of June may have made me come across as this angsty dark entity, even though the poem didn't have a tone anything near that. Insert paltry applause, and my swift exit. At least I got some practise, but my voice is still pretty awful from "the contagion" I've been getting over.
I heard Elaugh dropped her food in her waterdish at Bento's house. Amusing. I wish I'd been there. And Bento's boy is still terrified of her. Nevertheless, I think she's in a good place, and that makes me happy.
What else is new? Nothing. Boring boredom, and one interesting piece of art that I produced today that looks awesome. I'm currently reading a book by Douglas Coupland called "Polaroids of the Dead", and there is a quote in it from Truman Capote that goes :
"As for me
I could leave the world
In my eyes."
(As written by Coupland on the teeshirt of a German interviewer, with a permanent marker.)
The book is awesome. There's a chapter devoted to Cobain, and how much Coupland was actually moved by his coma in Italy, and later, his suicide. When I think about Cobain, I always feel like there was this intrinsic part of the nineties that I was completely unaware of at the wrong time. It's like I wasn't even there, despite how "worldly" and well rounded a kid I actually was. And now, when Nirvana is one of my favorite bands, I feel like a shmuck, because I wasn't "there" when they were.
Question for you all to think about: What is being "real" to you?