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Monday, December 4th, 2006
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1:38 pm
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| Tuesday, August 29th, 2006
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12:52 pm
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Robbie left for Alberta yesterday. I refuse to call it his home, since as far as I'm concerned, his home is with me. And he's slowly coming around to that idea as well. We got to the airport an hour before his flight (as per instruction), only to find that he had to board in twenty minutes. We barely had enough time to check his bags, and get him through security. Maybe it was better to be spared the long, drawn-out good-bye. But I also felt a little cheated. I was still stunned and in shock by the time he passed through security.
Still, I'm functional, which is more than I thought I'd be. I have a tendency to break when people I love leave me. But I guess I take comfort in knowing that he feels the same way, that it was hard for him to leave, and that I'll be seeing him in a matter of weeks. I'm going to miss so much school, which is frightening. And I have to worry about two jobs now. But the summer has been ridiculously expensive (ie double what it would have been if I hadn't had a houseguest for a couple months), so I need the money to replenish my bank account.
Maybe it'll be good to have some space, to find time for solitary things that I haven't been able to enjoy in so long. Still, I'd give it all up for him to come back. Though with me working so much and going to school, it probably wouldn't matter anyway: I wouldn't see him much anyway.
I wish this year were over. I can sense looming exhaustion. Maybe it's just because I've had an emotionally exhausting few days. I don't know. And I didn't get to see my family this summer, which was sad (at least, for the good half).
Anyway, back to work...
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| Wednesday, August 16th, 2006
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10:44 am
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So, I've spent the past half an hour practising "I Got You, Babe" for karaoke tonight. I am going to be redefining ugly. For everyone's protection, I suggest staying away from the Lookout tonight.
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| Tuesday, August 15th, 2006
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5:01 pm
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My posts have become a daily update of how my health is rapidly deteriorating. Or maybe just a documenting of my hyperchondria. In any case, my contacts, which have been causing me no end of discomfort/redness lately, have apparently ruined my left eye. I have no choice but to rely on my glasses, which Eric incessantly mocks. I'm not impressed. Add braces, and take off a good 20 pounds of muscle, and I'm back in junior high. I hate life.. And life hates me back... This should be interesting...
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| Friday, August 11th, 2006
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1:45 pm
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"Use only as directed. Do not use more of it, or more often, or for a longer time. Doing so may increase absorption through the skin and the chance of salicylic acid poisoning."
Death by Clean and Clear just doesn't dress up well on an obituary.
"To use any of the above preparations on the same affected area as salicylic acid may cause severe irritation of the skin."
But the stupid Clean and Clear website charted an entire regimen for my skin. Surely their corporation would not recommend an excessive number of their expensive products at the risk of my health...Right?...Right?
"Salicylic acid poisoning/salicylate toxicity from topical preparations is rare. Check with your doctor if you experience any of of the following symptoms: confusion, diarrhoea, nausea, vomiting, dizziness, lightheadedness, headache, rapid breathing, continuing ringing or buzzing in ears (tinnitus), loss of hearing, severe drowsiness, lethargy hyperpnea, stomach pain, and psychic disturbances."
I did find it difficult to catch my breath last night too...hmm...
...................................................................................................
PS How exactly do you measure "confusion" as a medical symptom? Usually when I'm unexpectedly ill, I get confused. Don't most people? Are there sick people who are like, "Yup. Knew I was going to spike a temperature right now. No surprise there. Planning on vomiting in a few minutes, give or take..."?
What the hell is a psychic disturbance? You mean, if I start manifesting telepathic or telekinetic abilities? If so, well worth the poisoning...
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12:56 pm
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I arrived late to work. And by late, I mean I got here at like 12:30 pm. Last night was rough. The worst part of it being that I can't exactly trace the specific origin of the debilitating nausea I had to ride into the early hours of the morning. I have narrowed down the list of suspects...
1) Food poisoning - I will never eat at a restaurant with crayons and paper tablecloths again. Fuck you, Montana's...
2) Salicyclic acidosis - Extremely rare. Almost impossible from topical application. Still, if there's a one in a million chance, then you can be sure it'll be me.
3) Sulphur inhalation - Who knew sulphur would burn that quickly anyway? Note to self: next time, keep face away from open candle-flame...
4)Opium overdose - Perhaps hotboxing that incense was a bad idea. But this strikes me as the most outlandish possibility of all. Unless combined with a bit of all the others of course...
Chills, hot flashes, dry heaves. I hate my life... :(
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| Thursday, August 10th, 2006
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10:52 am
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So, I'm at work again. It's almost 11:00 am, but to me, it feels like 4:17 am. I don't know why I'm so drained. I blame life. It really takes it out of you.
Well, I don't actually have much to say, but I figure that I'd better try to keep up my posting momentum by writing a short message anyway. Otherwise, I'll disappear for another three or four months.
Maybe my problem is that I lack a muse. I should definitely get me one of those. Possibly summon one. Or just steal it from someone else. The latter option definitely strikes me as more entertaining. The irony of course is that, without a Muse of my own, I lack the creativity to devise a scheme to abscond with someone else's. Sigh...
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| Wednesday, August 9th, 2006
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12:43 pm
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Just got back from an interview to become a law tutor. First question: what teaching experience do you have? ... Ouch. Anyway, the rest seemed to go well. I even got to rant about the barriers faced in law school by women, people with disabilities, people of colour, and other groups with pre-existing disadvantage. How many interviews can you get all anti-oppression in? My leftie streak is back with a vengeance! Still, I made the mistake of asking a lot of questions afterwards, most of which were very specific (ie as if I already had the job, and needed the minutiae of it). So, they might think I'm an arrogant jackass, and not hire me. Maybe I am an arrogant jackass, and I shouldn't be hired. Then again, maybe I should be anyway... :p
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| Tuesday, August 8th, 2006
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10:30 am
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So, I haven't updated my journal in what seems like forever. Upon reflection, I'd have to say there are a host of completely understandable reasons for this. Luckily, I don't have any obligation to get into them in any detail. Suffice it to say: one relationship ended; Tim went on self-destruct; new relationship unexpectedly started; been living together over the summer. Common theme? I have intensity issues.
Anyway, figured I'd start out slow with the journal thing. Here's a story a friend sent me. I think it encapsulates exactly how I feel, for whatever reason...
****
In 1986, Mkele Mbembe was on holiday in Kenya after graduating from college. On a hike through the bush, he came across a young bull elephant standing with one leg raised in the air.
The elephant seemed distressed so Mbembe approached it very carefully. He got down on one knee and inspected the elephant's foot, and found a large thorn deeply embedded in it.
As carefully and as gently as he could, Mbembe worked the thorn out with his hunting knife, after which the elephant gingerly put down its foot.
The elephant turned to face the man and with a rather stern look on its face, stared at him. For several tense moments Mbembe stood frozen, thinking of nothing else but being trampled. Eventually the elephant trumpeted loudly, turned and walked away.
Mbembe never forgot that elephant or the events of that day.
Twenty years later he was walking through a zoo with his teenaged son. As they approached the elephant enclosure, one of the creatures turned and walked over to near where Mbembe and his son Tapu were standing.
The large bull elephant stared at Mbembe and lifted its front foot off the ground, then put it down. The elephant did that several times then trumpeted loudly, all the while staring at the man. Remembering the encounter in 1986, Mbembe couldn't help wondering if this was the same elephant. Mbembe summoned up his courage, climbed over the railing and made his way into the enclosure.
He walked right up to the elephant and stared back in wonder.
Suddenly the elephant trumpeted again, wrapped its trunk around one of the man's legs and swung him wildly back and forth along the railing, killing him.
Probably wasn't the same elephant.
****
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| Tuesday, May 9th, 2006
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8:28 pm
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So, I've been charged with a sacred duty, or so I'm informed: on pain of very bizarre death, I must write a message to 10 people without revealing their identities. I guess it's supposed to be therapeutic or something. Or maybe it just adds a bit of adventure into our dull-grey lives, as we attempt to decipher if any of the entries from people we know are somehow meant for us. In a way, it's a little sad that we have to resort to ambiguous communiques to unveil our true thoughts about someone. It strikes me on some level as being cowardly. Then again, I use this thing, so I'm definitely not in a position to judge. And I definitely have experience, recent experience at that, with having so much to say and yet being too afraid and confused and frankly too deep in emotional tumult to know how to express it. Until it's too late, of course.
I'm shying away from the task at hand. I thought that writing this would help to get the juices flowing, but it's having the opposite effect. In bringing me closer to a place that I'm afraid, even terrified, of going, it only strengthens my unconscious resolve to avoid it entirely, to procrastinate it undefinitely. Much like unpacking the boxes of my belongings, my most precious and consecrated items stowed away like forgotten junk in an attic. Yet I can't bring myself to touch them, to remember who and what I once was, or at least imagined myself to be.
I have become small. Weak. Afraid. Afraid of regaining what I've lost in myself. Afraid perhaps that what has been lost, the part of me that has been so deeply and thoroughly broken, cannot be pieced back together. Better not to know then if the injury is permanent. Ignorance after all is bliss. And if I tried to heal, it would mean going into that place again, where everything is razors and pain and I don't think I could make it out again.
And yet...I feel like a part of me has died. And now, like Harper Pitt, I'm just waiting for the rest of me to catch up. I can't not be sad. But perhaps I can not be. Just forget myself for a little while. That's not to much to ask, right?
It's just ... I don't want to play anymore. It hurt, and I want to stop, and it's not fair that you can't stop when you want to. You should be able to stop.
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(comment on this)
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| Thursday, April 20th, 2006
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6:49 pm
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"I just don't understand why I'm not dead. When your heart breaks, you should die. But there is still the rest of you. There's your breasts, and your genitals, and they're amazingly stupid, like babies or faithless dogs, they don't get it, they just want him. Want him."
~Harper Pitt, Angels in America
I have been so lucky in so many ways. My friends have carried me through this dark time in my life with such grace and fortitude. I can't express my gratitude enough. They keep me distracted. I was never alone, not even once, for several days afterwards.
But I feel badly. Because I know I'm a downer right now. I'm bitter and jaded and miserable and raw. In short, I'm not very much fun to hang out with. And that makes me feel guilty. And this guilt is only magnified by the inevitable pressure I feel to 'just get over it already.'
Because that's what we tell ourselves. Time heals all wounds. But it doesn't. Anyone with even an elementary understanding of human biology will tell you that simple physical reality: some wounds don't heal. Some wounds never heal. When someone stabs you in the heart, you don't get better with time. You get worse. Every day you bleed out a little more. Every day, a little more of you is dead. And the irony of it all is that the stronger you are, the longer it takes for you to accept the inevitable. And just die.
Shall I abide in this dull world, which in her absence is no better then a sty?
~Paulie, Lost and Delirious
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| Monday, April 17th, 2006
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7:53 pm
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It doesn't even hurt anymore. Which is strange. Because it should. It should hurt when you lose someone. Especially all of a sudden. Especially when you didn't have to. When they themselves chose to leave you behind. Like garbage. Or excess baggage. Just not quite enough room in the overhead comparment. They tried their best to make room, but when it came to choosing between you and the spare toothbrush, there really wasn't much of a choice after all.
I've choked all that sadness so far down inside me that I can't even feel it anymore. It comes out at the strangest times in the most peculiar ways. It will for months to come. For no reason, I'll collapse. It's like jumping on stones to cross a river. Never sure which one will be so slick that you fall.
The worst part is knowing that I have to give up hope. Hope that he'll change his mind. Hope that he'll come back. Hope that he'll someday realize that I'm worth fighting for, worth loving. I have to kill that part of me that still hopes. And loves. But I don't have the courage to do it yet. I mean, what kind of person kills love?
A desperate person. A person in pain. I am Medea, staring at her children with a sword in hand: I am that terrible moment of indecision into which all of eternity is collapsed, torn between hatred for husband and mercy for love.
But indecision ends eventually. And the play's a tragedy. So we all know how it ends.
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| Thursday, April 13th, 2006
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8:16 pm
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| Wednesday, April 12th, 2006
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2:21 am
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Is it wrong to wish I were enough? To think that maybe if I were a little more attractive, a little easier to live with, that he might just stay instead?
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(3 comments | comment on this)
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| Wednesday, March 29th, 2006
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3:02 pm - Slouching Toward Bethlehem
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I question
not my ghostly vow,
but him.
So seek I drunk
mercy.
I poison
love’s heart.
I never ask.
I laugh.
For it is my
secret, broken
farewell.
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(comment on this)
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| Monday, March 27th, 2006
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1:09 am - Late Night Nostalgia Part II
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I want you to stay...I want you to stay... There, I said it… I said it, and now I want you to forget it. Well, it's just something that I've been thinking about, and I wanted you to know that I was thinking about it. You know, I was just gonna... keep my mouth shut and let you go... but... It's not me. That's some merchant ivory movie, you know, where people suffer in silence, and you're supposed to be so impressed by their restraint. Well... you know... sorry, but screw that. My best friend in the whole world is leaving tomorrow, and a big part of me wants him to stay... so I hope you don't hate me. These past couple of years, it's been one big soap opera. I wouldn't take it back. I wouldn't... take any of it back, but... I'm glad that it's over. 'Cause I like the way things are now. My life being the cruel joke that it is, now that things are so nice... you're leaving.
-Joey Potter,
"Coda"
Dawson's Creek
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| Wednesday, March 15th, 2006
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3:09 am - Insomnia + Dawson's Creek reruns = Nostalgia
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"You don't want to miss these moments, even the sad ones. Because you'll never get them back. So enjoy this time. Let it wash over you so that your memories of it are strong. Thank you for changing my life and opening my heart again."
-Gretchen Whitter,
Separation Anxiety,
Dawson's Creek (Season Four)
"I--I wanted to share something personal and tell you that... that people in my life who are gone now, people I miss very much and people who I am haunted by in different ways, but whether we're separated by death or merely distance, I know that they're still with me because I keep them in my heart. The truth is, in time, that's all that we're going to be to each other anyway, this population of memories, some wonderful and endearing, some less so. But taken together, those memories help make us who we are and who we will be. So whether you're here with each other now or you're merely in each other's thoughts, remember each other on that road ahead."
-Joey Potter,
The Graduate,
Dawson's Creek (Season Four)
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| Saturday, March 4th, 2006
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12:58 am - ...don't wanna wanna/be no primadonna/tired standing waiting feeling...
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So, the Vagina Monologues were great as ever. In large part because I'm finally reconnecting with the friends that I've neglected over the past two months. I don't want to lose myself like I usually do when I start an intense relationship. My friends have always been my anchor, and I'll keep them even more to keep my balanced. In other words, sane. And I'm going to a law thing on Monday, so that should help to even out my social life too. Musn't put all your eggs in one basket. Cesia will be glad I'm diversifying at least. I know we don't hang out as much now that we live together. But I assume she appreciates the space, since she's been forced into acting as my nightly psychologist. Poor thing. But how I've come to rely on her advice and wisdom. It's funny how simple it is. Communicate. Be honest. Do what you feel. Trust. Why are such simple things such Herculean feats for me? I think maybe they're difficult for everyone though.
It's funny. I can flirt with guys til the cows come home. And then, I can flirt with the cows. Okay, maybe not with the cows. That's too Albertan, even for me. But somehow, when it comes to a boyfriend, I lose all my confidence. I guess it's not easy to be as casual and secure when you feel like you have a lot to lose if you make a mistake. Adam hit the nail on the head: he said I spend too much time worrying about making myself perfect. But I was never perfect. And I will never be perfect. And my boyfriend was not attracted to me because he thought I was perfect. I just have to remember that. Easier said than done, but voila.
Had a great talk with Alex too. It turns out that I'm not crazy. Which is remarkably validating. I don't think I've derived greater comfort from a conversation in my life. It's just nice to know that I'm not the only one feeling and perceiving the way I do.
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| Tuesday, February 28th, 2006
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8:32 pm - Back to Canada...and my life...
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So, the trip to Mexico is officially over. It's the same feeling that I have on Halloween, my birthday, or even Christmas Day: this vague, looming sense of disappointment. All that anticipation, all that energy, suddenly dissipated.
The trip itself went much better than I had feared. I got along well with everyone. Which says a lot considering I don't spend much time with Tyler and Justin, and that Henry hates me with an almost flattering intensity. But on the trip, a truce developed, no less remarkable than the detente of the Cold War. And so, I enjoyed the Mexican surf, sand, and sun. No sex of course. Well, at least not with anyone else. ;)
Thankfully, Joel emailed me while I was gone (thanks to the intervention of my goddess-like roommate), and assured me that we would talk when I returned. Which we did. A bit of a relief, since most of my major blowouts have ended with people that I care about deeply leaving me abruptly. Still, I am left with the nagging suspicion that nothing really got resolved between us. It's like we just preferred to deal with it as superficially and quickly as possible so we could move on and pretend that nothing serious had happened. And maybe that will work. That would be nice. But I fear it won't. Like all fights, we learned a lot about each other. And I learned a lot about myself. I'm just not sure how much better than leaves me.
I did however receive a very important epiphany last night. Perhaps the root of my angst lies not in my relationship, but rather in a deep-seated need of mine to be needed. Julien said much along the same lines to me when he broke up with me. I need to be needed. And it's unfair to expect that from a partner. So, I've decided that I need a hobby. A volunteer position. Something that will take me far away from my traditional social circle and give me the purpose that I've been lacking.
Now, all I have to do is figure out what that is...
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| Saturday, February 18th, 2006
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2:32 am - Annie - Always Too Late ... welcome to my life, sister...
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Had the biggest fight with Joel, just in time to go to Mexico for a week. Not sure how I'm going to salvage fun out of this trip. It wasn't looking particularly promising to begin with. Whatever. I actually ended up being honest. Now, we'll see if that bites me in the ass, or actually makes things better for once...
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wanna_blessed_b's journal
Dear Santa...