who has a dream book?

ok so the other night i dreamt that i moved to wells. (i can just see the kiddo's face if i told him we were moving to wells - population well under 800. maybe even under 500).

anyhoo... i dreamed we moved to wells, and i needed to drive to quesnel to buy groceries (which, by the way, is a SORRY state of affairs lol). now the road between wells and quesnel is a mountain road, and is notoriously poor in the winter. mike b was FURIOUS with me for attempting the drive, but somehow i had come into a very swishy range rover - fully kitted out for bad conditions and was determined to make the trip. all along the road there were cars and trucks in the ditch. i remember sniffing derisively as i passed a nissan xterra tits up in a snowbank, thinking something along the lines of "next time buy a REAL SUV."

some of the grades on the highway were close to 90degrees - seriously straight up and down, and completely covered in ice. i could feel the truck basically sliding down the hills, and i was basically controlling where it slid.

but i made it to quesnel and was doing my shopping - trailed closely by mike b (who was miraculously transported there for seemingly precisely this purpose) who was YELLING at me for taking such risks. when someone stopped me to ask me the road conditions, and i started to describe them, he actually walked away so he didn't have to listen.

so what's THAT one mean?

hm - pls excuse. pity party to commence. i'm sick - i'm allowed.

editor's note - post removed due to excessive pissyness

i miss

the vitriolic humour of academia.

read this.

thoughts on watching 'garden state'

it's hard to watch a movie that makes you want to cry when you are sitting beside your little brother who, as far as you know, has never seen you emote beyond general happiness and random moments of anger (random - a word that is used a great deal in this movie. more on that later)

some of my most intense feelings of anger (you know, as an aside, it's really hard for me to be angry. i get sad, and i accept. i repress. i don't usually get angry. during my ill-fated excursion into self exploration and mental heeling (sorry for the sarcasm, there), glen the therapist kept asking me "but don't you feel angry? and my answer was inevitably... no) have occured surrounding the betrayal i feel after mr. m slowly but surely talked me into letting down my barriers. he refused to let me keep my walls up and made me talk to him, made me be in touch with my feelings where he was concerned. then, he left me with all of these feelings and emotions that i had no way of dealing with. i was furious with him for making me open myself up - i had these great walls, these great protections, these great totems. he made me let them go. now i don't have them anymore and i'm open up to all of this....... stuff.

the main character of garden state has been on lithium for as long as he can remember. his mom dies and he decides to take himself off because he can't remember the last time he FELT anything. the film takes place over these four days when he returns to his home town, watches his friends seek out the oblivion he's trying so hard to escape, and falls in love with this girl. she says to him in words much more eloquently than this: "it's life... sometimes it hurts, but it's all we've got".

i can't decide if i want this or not. i'm torn between wanting the oblivion i had - not feeling anything is better than feeling so much pain - and craving the happiness that i had just started to remember.

more than anything i'm tired of fucking wasting time. i feel like i'm one of those wind up toys that just keeps bumping against the walls.. bumping bumping over and over again until my mechanism winds down and i collapse exhausted.

it's some kind of fucked up marxist alienation - i'm just part of the machine of economy. i sleepwalk through my days going through the motions of emotion. i work and eat and sleep and fuck and work and eat and sleep and fuck and go to the movies and smile my mechanical smile until the wheels slowly grind to a stop and then i'm dead.

i'm tired of fucking wasting time. i want to create something. i want to be part of something bigger than i am. i want to feel joy again. i want to spread my arms and tilt back my head and spin and spin and spin till i fall down laughing with joy and the rain fills my mouth and then i'm crying and i can't tell the difference between laughing and crying anymore cause really they're the same thing. it's the same thing.

planning ahead

so this evening i took newly around about the town and showed him some of vancouver's drinking establishments. since i was driving, i settled with only a cocktail or two, sticking mostly with soda water and coffee. yes one of the coffee's had bailey's in it. sue me.

i found myself somewhat in awe of his ability to consume martinis, and began thinking to myself that the new year's festivities could get messy quickly, as i will be attempting (for a short time anyway) to keep up. so as a forewarning, chances are i'll be unconcious by 11pm. just so you know.

anyhoo, while we were enjoying raspberry mojitos (i WILL make everyone i know drink this. it's my goal for 2005, along with talking to strangers. come to think of it, the more mojitos i drink, the more strangers i talk to. the more strangers i talk to, the more people i know and will require to drink mojitos with me - it's a vicious cycle and i'm lovin' it!) i noticed in a copy of terminal city a fill-in-the-blanks apology, and thought to myself "self, that looks like a handy thing to have, what with new year around the corner...". so here it is:

Dear Mr. / Mrs. ___________

I am writing to apologize for my ________ behaviour the other night, and i hope that despite everything, you can find it in your heart to forgive me. I should have known there would be a problem when your ______ first brought out the ________ of _______ that was so big it needed a handle. I was nervous about meeting you for the first time, and although i can usually hold my ________, i thought that having a few ________ would help me to _________. I was obviously very very wrong.

I honestly don't remember much between _______ with your visiting relatives and _______, but i'm told that i made quite a scene. If past experience is anything to go by, I'm guessing I whipped out my ______ and said "______" a lot. I hope i didnt' try to sit on your husband's / wife's _________ or make out with your ______, but at this point, nothing would surprise me. In my mind, I was just trying to be _______. All i know is that i woke up bathed in _________, with a blinding hangover, next to your ________ in the _________ in your driveway. I'm guessing you probably saw the big pile of ______ on the table where we tried to ________, but I'm hoping you didn't walk in while we were ________. We disposed of the _______ in the ________, so hopefully you didn't stumble across that, but i'm sure the lingering _____ smell was unmistakable. I have a vague recollection of the _______ arriving, so I guess the person the neighbours heard at 4am shouting "________" was me. Oops. Sorry again.

I'd be happy to pay for the _________ I broke (I only threw my ________ out of it because i thought it was open) and replace the tub of ________ and the plastic ________ that went missing, and if you have any trouble getting the _______ stains and the ________ marks out of the furniture, please send me the cleaning bills.

Please accept my sincerest apologies and this _______ that I made.

For what it's worth, all the best of the holiday season, and once again, my deepest regrets for being such a _______, ________, ________. I don't usually show people that side of myself until the second or third meeting.

Remorsefully,


__________


PS - if a pair of black mesh _________ you don't recognize turn up somewhere, they're probably mine. Since you probably never want to see me again, you may as well just keep them.

the monday

this girl recently talked about the good friends you make whom you will never actually meet, and how much she has come to rely on them. back when i first started this journal, i kicked around the idea of communities which develop on the 'net, and how much computers have changed the way we interact with each other. i have made some of my best friends via computer conversations - i never would have met mike b if it hadn't been for the computer. if i hadn't met mike b, i never would have met lemon and lime. i started to talk with newly single because i loved the honesty and humour with which he writes. today, i'm picking him up at the airport as he heads off on his whistler ski adventure.

people say that computers have participated in the isolation of 'modern humanity' - that they contribute to the alienation we feel in society. is that a truth? or is it that our ways of communicating and interacting have evolved along with our technology? when writing letters was the only way of communing with one another, that's what we did. then we had the telephone, now the internet, and email, and text messaging, and instant messenger. maybe it's a double edged sword: the rise in digitized communication HAS made it harder to meet people face-to-face. we are more suspicious of people who are genuinly friendly strangers - which, by the way, is a very sad thing. (i remember remarking to mike b about the friendliness of a woman standing in line in front of us when we were christmas shopping, and how it is so rare here in vancouver for people to talk to the strangers they are in line with. mike and i are both from a smaller community where random line up conversations are the norm, not the exception).

so maybe this is my challenge to you for the new year: reach out in person the way you reach out on line. sure it will probably take you beyond your realm of comfort, especially in a big city. yes, chances are your good intentions will be rudely rebuffed at least once. however, for every poor reception i wager there are two people who's day you will make, simply by chatting to them as you stand in line at the movies (i recently spent a wonderful 10 min in the snack line up cracking myself and the people in line with me up - sure made the time more enjoyable), or commenting on a novel or magazine you notice someone reading in a cafe, or whatever. come on, i dare you.

i wish you a merry christmas

may all your winter festival of lights and christmas dreams come true, whatever they may be.

i love you guys. you know who you are. i couldn't get through a day without you.

to my favourite victoria kids - i wish you sunny days and walks with the dog; early morning lattes and long afternoons at fenway; and martinis and kisses under the mirrorball.

to sweet maktaaq - i wish you dark eyed goth boys; a bottomless booksale at the library; and purses always, always on sale.

to swizzalish - i wish you hot house music; an endless supply of mandarin vodka with cranberry cocktail; and the perfect boots for dancing.

to mr. newly - i wish you sparkly pink moments with fb; automatic upgrades to first class; and beer and curry evenings surrounded by your mates.

to everyone else i may have missed - i wish you an antidote to writer's block; happiness in your lives; and drama enough to make them interesting.

and to lovely lovely mike b - i wish you everything you've ever hoped for, everything you've ever dreamed of, everything you could ever imagine wanting (cause you deserve it).

happy christmas to all, and to all a good night.

oo ooo ooo!

gift alert! and it came in the MAIL even! a sparkly pink belt from some lovely lovely folk! thanks so much!!!!

the day before the day before!

so i have two midweek days off, then a half day of work tomorrow, then a week and a half off for christmas. how excited am i?

yesterday i went out with the kiddo and my brother to do a bit of last minute shopping. my dad (in all fairness he's gotten much better in the last few years) generally enlists either my sister or myself and sends us out into the world armed with a credit card to find something for my mom. he did, actually find one gift for her already, but sent me off yesterday to get her a sweater or something and some of the beauty products she uses.

so off the three of us headed into the sunny (god-damn-it! where's the snow!) december morning to brave the mall. yes, i know it was only 11 when we arrived. yes, i know it was a tuesday morning. but, my hand to god, we were parked and in 'n' out of the mall in under 45 minutes - and that was WITH a quick stop for purely interest's sake! how often does THAT happen this time of year?!

so i came home and finished my wrapping, read through my secret santa cookbook, and watched Patrick Stewart in Dickens' 'A Christmas Carol'. i think this is my favourite adaptation of the story (well except for the muppets, of course). something i learned this week: a christmas carol was written as part of the movement to repopularize the celebration of christmas among the middle class and city dwellers in england. it had been banned as 'too pagan' by the puritans, and was celebrated only sporadically and mostly by 'country' folk. christmas was just another working day. the character of scrooge was created as representation of the middleclass business owners who had lost touch with their pasts - a warning, if you will. cool, huh?

four days!

so the countdown to the "big" day has begun. let the presenting begin!

i actually have 1.5 more gifts to purchase - my dad and the kiddo's dad/partner. my dad is quite literally the WORST person to shop for. he just buys himself whatever he wants, whenever he wants it. and lately, well since her buying power has doubled, my sister has been coming up with these great gifts which are almost impossible to compete with. for example: his birthday this year was a sailing lesson on a tall ship. (this is me making a blank 'i have no idea' face)

i participated in the amateur gourmet's secret santa cookbook exchange this year. to my delight and wonder, when i got home from work the other day there was a cookbook waiting for me. i'm so excited to try cooking from it - i think there might even be something in this one that my family will enjoy, wonder of wonders... i sent mine off as well - i selected a healthy fusion style cookbook (the name of which escapes me at the moment) with lots of beautiful photos. i hope whomever the recipient is enjoys it.

i've got one day of work, then two days off, then work for half a day, then i'm off for almost two weeks of paid vacation. how fun is that?! the kiddo is going up to visit his dad for a week, mr newly single is coming to the west coast, and the divine ms. u and i are heading to whistler for new year.

plus, my blog is almost 1 year old. what should i do to celebrate? offer a 'date with raspberry sundae' contest? if you win, you get to take me out to dinner and i promise to be cute and companionable? sounds like a good idea to me... what should the contest involve?

ohhh miguel....

(you have to reckon back to the james bond films... the female love interest always, at least once, breathes out "ohhh james..." as she succumbs to his charms...)

miguel migs is so much fun. and so darned hot, i could barely take my eyes off him. wow.. and i got to meet the lovely swizzalicious, in her great little black dress - how cute is she?

i'm running on 3 hours of sleep here, kids, so please excuse if i am a little less than coherent. (going to bed at 6.30 wouldn't be bad if i could SLEEP till noon. but OH NO, i have to wake up at NINE). i've been lying on the couch watching bad movies and looking at the sunshine, thinking i should be out there but unable to bring myself to actually move, you know? just one of those days...

so last night started with a work cocktail party which was more fun than i expected it to be.. it was pretty low key, and the upper managers didn't come, so people were laid back and having a good time. i was looking around though (and this is something that i considered at length later in the evening) and thinking about the difference between colleagues and friends. you can be friendly with your colleagues, but that doesn't mean they are your friends, you know? and last night i was sitting there with my fellow project manager and realizing that we were friendly colleagues, but not friends. now i had at one time thought we might become friends, but i think we are essentially pretty different. she's super nice - and even last night i could tell that she was reaching out, but it just isn't there for me, you know? maybe it's cause deep down inside i'm not sure i can trust her - i know that she's pretty career focused and will definately fight to protect hers, even if it means selling me out, you know? maybe that's unfair.

after a couple of hours, i headed off into the fog to hook up with the divine ms u and start our evening of fun. after a quick cocktail we booted downtown to get the festivitiEs underway.. we did a little kissing and a lot of talking last night.. shared some secrets.. i broke down and told her about mr. m - she had suspected for a long time, and i'm pretty sure she can be trusted. we know lots about each other that no one else (at least at work) does. so she may be reading this sometime today.. i've given her the link, which i had been hesitant to do, just cause lots of the stuff i've talked about i would never want work people to have access to.

there's so much of me that i don't want lots of people to have access to - this journal is a place where i sort of air my thoughts and get things out of my head, but i do still keep things inside a lot. but my friends who read this definatly get to know stuff about me that i would never volunteer in a face to face conversation. it's a place of vulnerability for me - i have a lot of trouble letting people 'in', naturally. so giving away my thoughts and ideas and writing can be very hard. meh, i don't know where i'm going with this. i'm always very introspective the day aftEr. and a little sad, too. but that's ok...

words

i have lost faith in my ability to navigate the ether
past lives cling to me - fingers grasping through graveyard soil
i shake shake try to shake them off but
the more i twirl my skirts the faster the world spins round.
tiptoed i stand on the pinpoint of learning from my experience versus
facing the world with my ass forward and
my eyes back
shadowed by the weight of eternity i
squint into my history seeking answers that
i thought i once had.

i was a very good girl

well, if you discount the bottle of champagne i drank before we arrived. and the present that i stealth-mission liberated (it wanted to be mine! it did!) from the welcome table. and the fact that i stole all the raspberries off the leftover dessert (i couldn't help it! the voices told me too!). i did, however, look pretty, have polite yet amusing anecdotes for the president of mike b's company, turn down the threesome offer, kept my breasts encased in my dress, and didn't make out with anyone. best behaviour, i tell you. best behaviour.

christmas party day (2)!

oo today is the lovely lovely mikeb's christmas party, so i shall be donning my little black frock and fishnets and spending the evening in his company (courtesy of his company hee hee) at one of the upscale lotusland hotels. we have a room booked, so have pre- and post- party fun planned.

i've promised him that i'll behave, and have been told that i'm not allowed to make out with any of his coworkers. fair enough - i shall adopt an aura of mystery, sip champagne and be the 'perfect date' (a la one of those fun retro dating books from the '50s or '60s).

first, though, i'm off for brunch with sweet maktaaq. we've some catching up to do before she heads down south for christmas. not to mention the fact that it is lovely and sunny and breezy out today.... how fun!

audio-erotic

does anyone else get turned on by music? i know that one of the heady things about rave/e culture is that the drug makes you hyper sensitive and you can FEEL the music running through your body, which is super fucking hot. but does anyone else get turned on by a song playing on the radio when they are driving home, or when they are cooking, or when they are plugged into their headphones at work?

i'm a super sexual person - i'm very sensual and i find many "everyday" things quite erotic, but this evening i was doing some christmas baking and listening to the cfox when van halen's 'panama' came on. and it occurred to me that i think that this song (and i'm vaguely ashamed to admit it) fully aroused me when i was 12 years old - specifically the section in the middle when the music slows and you can hear the car engine revving and diamond dave growls "yeah, we're runnin a bit hot tonight. i can barely see the road from the heat comin' off it. ahh you reach down, between my legs.. ease the seat back..." i remember lying in bed in the dark playing that song over and over on my stereo; closing my eyes and letting dave's voice slip like tendrils of smoke into my imagination. wow.

these days it's the heavier stuff - deftones 'passenger' comes to mind immediately (roll the windows down/ this cool night air is curious/ let the whole world look in/ who cares who sees what tonight/ roll these misty windows down/ to catch my breath again/ and then go and go and go just drive me/ home then back again/ here I lay just like always /don't let me/ go /take me to the edge) and lots and lots of hard electronic music (not hard house but the dark hard progressive stuff... you know what i mean). i love hard driving beats. i love the way ideas come out in words, and the way my mind runs with them and takes my body with it.

(tangent - both songs that i mentioned by name have to do with cars, too. interesting)

the rock star experience is highly sexualized. but is it because of the music or because of the fame? perhaps because of the 'bad boy' or 'bad girl' stereotype? ken from ken and ariel talked about going to see juliette lewis play live and sort of came to the same conclusions - rock and roll is sexy dirty. rock and roll stars are sexy dirty. but is it the music or the rolling around in a crowd jacked up on endorphins and pheremones drenched in someone elses' sweat (oh sound familiar?). clubs and bars are notorious pick up joints, but is it the music or is it the pulsing lights and the pulsing beats and the pulsing bodies rubbing up against one another?

or is it all of the above? can you separate the music from the experience from your imagination from your body from your hormones from your memories and associations?

i'd be really interested to know what songs, if any, turn other people on. or what other normal, "every day" experiences or stimuli, for that matter...

hello bronte!

What Classic Movie Are You?
personality tests by similarminds.com

weather pixie

so i was perusing lemon's comments and came across a link to this lady. lo and behold, at the bottom of her page, was a little weather pixie. now something that you probably don't know about me is that i used to be addicted to the weather network. i used to have to watch it sort of incessantly. knowing the up to the minute local forecast was a bit of an obsession. (i had this problem with the real estate listing channel, as well. don't ask me why - i just found it sort of soothing). anyhoo... imagine my delight! a weather pixie! now i can just click on my journal and see this saucy little fashionista sporting weather appropriate styles. fun!

on a completely different note.. this evening i did something i have never done before. i was sitting down to a lovely meal of thai red curry with prawns (kiddo) and tofu (both of us) when my mobile rang. it was mr. m. i screened him. felt pretty good, too.

sick sundae

blergh i'm home sick today... i have the worst muscle aches in the world. sort of feel like i was stuck in a washer on the spin cycle for a couple of hours, or like oscar de la hoya used me for drills or something. so i'm home. i've got like 10 sick days left for the year - may as well use one or two, i figure.

the kiddo is *working* today. how cool is that? the guy who does the landscaping round our place is the son of some neighbours, and he's talked about getting the kid out and about doing some stuff. i guess today he's got the work for him.

it's really cool cause dave (the landscaper) had a childhood similar to kiddo's - he went through lots of the same stuff, so can really relate. i'm just glad that he won't be sitting 'round the house. plus he really likes doing stuff like this, and is actually very good at it. so..... off he went.

my horoscope today is quite good:

It's a great time to meet and impress new people. You radiate confidence, attracting potential partners like flies to honey. In love and art, you are nearly unstoppable. Use your magic touch to bargain for something you've been wanting or to ask a question you've been avoiding. Even though everyone pays attention to you, don't overextend yourself. You could say anything right now and people would believe you, but it might help if you mean it.

i'm not sure how many new people i will meet while curled up at home in my pj's. well, i will have to make a used bookstore run at some point - maybe then...

ok i'm back to bed.

december 6, 1989

Genevieve Bergeron- Nathalie Croteau - Anne-Marie Edward - Maryse Laganiere - Anne-Marie Lemay - Michele Richard - Annie Turcotte - Helene Colgan - Barbara Daigneault - Maud Haviernick - Maryse LeClair - Sonia Pelletier - Annie St-Arneault - Barbara Klucznik-Widajewicz

resistance is futile

last night, in those quiet moments post party and pre sleep.

last night, in the dark.

last night in the warmth and safety of.

i've been trying to write this post all day. i don't know why it's so hard to start.

italo calvino wrote a novel that was comprised entirely of the first chapters of different books. if on a winter's night a traveller. i loved it cause the beginning is always the hardest.

while i was writing my thesis i had two things within view of both of the computers i used to work on. one was the quote that inspired my thesis (the beginning). the other was a foxtrot comic strip (explain to me again the difference between writer's block and a total lack of talent? pipe down. i'm sure after this first word it gets easier).

pipe down, you. i'm sure after this first word it gets easier.

shit.

---

nope not that word.

---

last night after the party, when we were curled up in bed and falling asleep (him) or passing out (me), mikeb gave me a talking. he said it hurts him to see me go after boys who aren't good enough for me. i told him that it's really hard to see someone you love(d?) every day and know that they are not with you, but with someone else. i told him that it seemed like it was better to be with someone who was not quite good enough than to always be alone. i think i cried. that's a lie - i cried. but i was drunk cause i don't do stuff like that.

today he told me that i needed to be with someone who appreciated the fact that i'm smart and independent and sexy. theoretically, grand plan. practically, boys like that don't like me.

hello rock. this is your hard place. i'll just stay here between you until my 24 cats feast on my undiscovered corpse.

why is this so hard for me to write about? it's not like it is something i've never talked about. today it is just.... hard.

from the 'why am i surprised to learn this' category

did you know that it is prohibited by law to sell sex toys in alabama? boggled, my mind is. boggled.

mmcashmeremmm

You are Cashmere.
You are sophisticated and luxe. You can often be
found in high-end boutiques and hobnobbing with
the upper crust. You are one of the beautiful
people and you don't let anyone forget it!

christmas party day!

so i woke up this morning around 7.00. i, however, *refused* to get out of bed, 'cause it was still dark as pitch out. i think there is something inherently wrong with getting up on the weekends when it's still dark as night. unless you are preparing to skulk home from an indecent exchange of bodily fluids. then it's fine-and-dandy.

i'm receiving a large number of hits from here. i guess that the post i wrote about sweaters is receiving some interest. welcome, fellow sweater lovers.


on that note (which is to say i'm seguing not so neatly into my latest bout of retail therapy) i love the vintage style which is in stores right now. it's not seventies, sixties, eighties... it's more in the twenties and thirties and forties. i LOVE style from these decades - pretty much everything about it. i love the fitted sweaters with bows at the neck. i love the cloche hats. i love the marcasite jewelry. should you ever meet a man who wants to marry me, tell him that i don't want a gaudy oversized diamond, i want a beautiful antique art nouveau ring. i want something that speaks to the timelessness of beauty and grace; something that melds the beauty of vines and flowers into gemstones and metal. lovely lovely.

tonight's my work christmas party. mr m will not be in attendance. he's taking his wife out on a 'date' - i guess to make up for the fact that she's being robbed of her rightful place at the company function by the sheer audacity of my presence. what does the man who's in love with another woman and been fucking around for 7 months buy his wife for christmas this season? enquiring minds want to know... oops, sorry. i'll get off the bitter bus now.

anyhoo... i've got to hit the day. i apologize for the uninspired, vaguely disjointed post. i've got baking products to purchase, antlers to find, and a tan to procure before i begin the arduous process of making myself irresistable to certain boys i work with. wish me luck!

what the hecks up with snoop dogg promoting every consumer product in the known universe?

anybody know? seriously dude...

besides that....

i introduced the divine ms. u to the best cocktail in the world - the raspberry mojito at the reef. quite delish. we were re-writing some christmas classics to rather irreverantly include the managerial types at work. probably what could be referred to as a 'career-limiting move'. ah well, as long as people laugh, right?