put your hands up in the air, put your hands up in the air

donald glaude was so good last night. i love how he gets so involved in the show - lowering the music and shouting at the crowd, throwing his hands up, loving the vibe and the beat and the lights. add to this the fact that the divine ms u and i went berry picking in the sunshine, then had dinner on a patio with the sister and the sister's boyfriend and some other friends before heading out on the town and you have a contented sundae.

i was home at 2.35, in bed at 2.55, awake at 6.05. oops - half an hour late but whatevs, it's the summer. i NEED some sleep. like lots of sleep. like a solid 10-11 hours of sleep, and maybe some napping on the patio, and some corona. must stop at beer store on the way home.

i was also very good last night - not only did i keep the drinking to a bare minimum, but a hot 28yr old tried ever so hard to take me home. i revelled in the attention then left on my own. i will, however, catch some shit from my sister; it doesn't matter that i totally did not initiate the contact or pursue it in any way (au contraire, mes amies - exactly the opposite), she'll be pissed at me for it. i need to have the 'you and i are different. you need to stop making me feel like shit because you don't understand who i am, since i never do that to you' conversation with her. le sigh.

when someone has my attention they really do have it. i must endeavour, however, to keep myself at least moderately detatched until i know more about this person. he seems so.... transparent is not the word i'm looking for. i don't know - i guess he just seems to be exactly who he says he is. this is refreshing, because that is how i strive to be. the whole game playing aspect to dating wearies me - if i like you i like you. i'm not going to pretend to be indifferent to make you want me more. see, this is why i'd make a horrible sales person. i'm just not good at the catch-and-release.

this is my horoscope today:

It's all about coordination -- put yourself in the middle of any chaos, and you will thrive. As a matter of fact, the wilder the energy is around you, the happier you will be. While others are pulling out their hair or panicking over a tight deadline, you'll be like a machine -- coolly putting all the pieces exactly where they need to be. You have finally mastered the skills you've been working on for so long, so get ready for a new phase of contentedness.

it's an interesting one to read since i have begun to feel a general acceptance of who i am and where i am - something that has been missing in my life for the past while. this is not to say that i am becoming complacent - if anything, i find myself in much the same state of mind i was in back when i was excited by my education and my future; back when i felt in control of my destiny rather than like a dustmote dancing in sunshine. some of it may have to do with having concrete goals to work towards (though if i am going to save a tidy enough nest egg to have a furnished home in a couple of months, i really have to cut down on the going out. two nights in a row is quite out of control on my new-found budget.)

ah well - my brain is non-functioning, it's the friday before the long weekend, it's beautifully sunny, and i'm wearing pigtails. this calls for more coffee and a little craigslist surfing for fun household goods...

when the dares pick a victim, the railroad blues will play

oh man oh man i need some sleep, kids. i've been averaging 4.5 - 5 hours a night for a week now, and it's starting to wear on my psyche... which is to say that my eyes have that sandpaper feeling, my tongue seems too big for my mouth, and my hands are shaking like a crackhead at a plumbers' convention...

i've officially decided to not take yoga this summer, and put the money instead towards buying some of the housewares i shall need for my impending move. i'd really like to go away this weekend, too, but can't for the same reason. also 'cause one of the two people (mikeb) i'd like to go away with is going away with someone else (more on that in a moment) and the other (i believe) has to work. the whole no-structured yoga thing means that i'm going to have to try and be more diligent about actually doing some at home or else i will become fat, and not the in the fun ph-way: let's not kid - i'm a 5'3 blonde. a ghetto booty would just be a step into madness on this body.

so mikeb is going away with one of his ex-girlfriends this weekend. this concerns me on a couple of levels. now, keep in mind that mike is like me. he will always give people the benefit of the doubt before he acts to protect himself. he's as bad as i am at seeing people's ulterior motives when they have to do with him. so.. he sticks up for me and i'm intensely protective of him. heck someone's gotta do it, 'cause neither one of us is doing it for ourselves...

so my issues: first off, mikeb has held onto this girl as the epitome of women he wants to date. i worry that he has, in retrospect, put her up on a pedestal that won't hold in real life. it's good to have these people in the back of your mind - they give you standards to work with when dating. i'm not sure, however, that it is good to actually revisit *dating* these people: what happens when they (as they surely will) fail to live up to your memory of them? not only will your illusions be shattered, but your whole dating paradigm will become tarnished.

secondly, i'm not sure i trust this girl with my mike. i don't know what her intentions are, and i know that (since mike does have rose coloured glasses on when this girl is involved) she has the power to hurt him. i know that she has done it in the past year. i won't stand for it again. i will cut her in pertinant places, duct tape her hands, feet, and mouth, and drag her out to the swamp for the alligators.

now mikeb is a big boy and he's free, of course, to make his own decisions and even though i love him with all my heart i cannot shelter him (even though i want to) from hurt and heartbreak. however, he is my best friend and i do have these reservations and i've told him exactly how i feel. i've tried to make sure that, when i get agitated at him spending time with this person, he knows that i'm not judging him or questioning him, i'm just being defensive of him and trying to act as a best friend should - ultimately i will stand by him whatever he decides to do, and be here to support and/or console him if necessary, or celebrate wtih him if that is the case.

the female, however, has some work to do before i'll consider her anything less than poison.

it's curtains for the cretins when they cut these strings

so last week i managed to catch part of my favourite documentaries (legendary sin cities - produced by the cbc). it was part one of three, and talked about the artistic culture of paris in the 20's (a subject near and dear to my heart, as you know). last night i lucked out and happened upon part 2 - berlin in the 20s and thirties... fascinating stuff. it amazes me how a society will take itself to the brink of decadence (liberation?) and then be repressed so dramatically in retaliation... i bring this up for no reason other than the fact that i'm going to see cabaret this evening and am kinda excited.

whoops kinda lost the plot there, didn't i? lol (you can't tell, but i actually forgot i was writing this and wandered away for an hour)

ok i'll try and give a review of the show etc later.... xo

sweat box, laser beam, flashin lights

he's probably reading this right now thinking about the same thing i'm thinking about not knowing how it makes me feel... that deep down guilty hand in the cookie jar feeling springing up from the dark places in your psyche. this sensation is the reason that sometimes, sometimes, you leave the blinds just... cracked... slightly. why when your soon to be lover comes to visit, you go into the next room to change and oops forget to close the door. why when you are out you sometimes let your top slip a little deeper skirt ride a little higher hands brush lightly linger a little too long.

will he catch me? does he know? can he see.... this?

and never kissed a girl

so now that i've 'outed' my self and my blog to someone i'm interested in, i'm wondering to myself in what ways it will impact the way i write. it's not like mikeb - he's known me from the beginning of this thing, reads sporadically if ever, and... well... accepts me for who i am - midnight escapades, temper tantrums, navel gazing and all. he's my bestest friend - that's what he's supposed to do.

i could never, on the other hand, tell the sister about it. if she ever found out, i would have to cease and desist immediately and go into hiding - like we're talking witness protection program hiding - like all of a sudden spo has an.... australian roommate. yeah, australian. that's it. pass the fosters and throw another shrimp on the barbie. (i know, i know.. it's a prahhhwwwwnnn not a shrimp)

anyhoo.

yeah, so how will this work? if we ended up dating long term, would i be afraid to write about stuff we'd done or said, or if i was unhappy about something, or angry about something?

(i asked him yesterday if he'd found the sex stuff yet. he said no, then asked if he might end up in here, if we were to.. erm.. you know. when i said yes he seemed ok with that fact. which, i thought, was cool.)

i mean this blog is still... 70% true. and even some of the stuff that isn't true has a kernel of truth hidden within it. but i don't reveal *every*thing that happens to me, or that i think about or feel or experience here. shocking, i know. if i did, though, i'd just be here all day long and never have a chance to go out and live, so, inevitably, would not really have anything to write about, anyway. which would kind of defeat the point, wouldn't it?

o be joyful (cause that shit spreads)

i heart the sunshine. what girl can be verklempt when it's sunny out? not i said the fly... (you told me you wanted to eat up my sadness well jump right enjoy and gorge away)

ug i'm trying to write am lying here listening to music and the dog snoring, my feet are hot and my eyes are heavy like i haven't slept in weeks and the words won't come won't flow.

interesting development - i told a boy about the blog. he's read it. it doesn't scare me. crazy huh?


goin' outside. tell me stories, please.

night after night

i am trying to write something centred around the words 'pugilist'and 'vigilante' but not to do with fighting or violence, more to do with a street scene i have in my head - driving through summer nights with the window down, scent of flowering trees in the air, streetlights flashing 'cause it's after midnight.

i come from a place where,
at some of the major intersections,
the streetlights are set to 'flash' at midnight.

the archaic quaintness of the idea that
there are so few people on the road
past midnight
that regular traffic signals are not required

charms me
more than the blind faith in drivers' ability to follow
standard four way stop procedures.

clearly these city planners have never visited
vancouver in a rainstorm.

someday i'll walk away and say you fucking disappoint me

now i may have talked about this before, but for me the beginning of the year is the beginning of september. i think that this is for a combination of reasons - my birthday falls in mid august, so a 'new year' begins then, but also because i spent so long in school. for me, fall feels fresh and clean. the air is crisp and there is a strange sense of excitement in the air.

maybe i'm just getting in touch with my inner celt.

in any case, i think part of my strange sense of transition lies in the fact that i feel as though i'm building towards something new - i feel as though there is some kind of change on my horizon. i'm not sure what shape that change will take, just that it is there. i'm excited and filled with trepidation at the same time. i'm looking forward to what comes next and i'm making plans. i caught myself contemplating my career yesterday, and actually made an appointment to talk to my boss about it. i've never done that before - work has just been something i got up each day and did; it was *work* not a *career* or a path.

i've decided to try and finish my thesis, as well. yeah i know i've said that before, but i think that this time i mean it - i'm just so close. why wouldn't i?

i want to take a sommalier course. i want to take a class or two towards my job. right now i can do more with our database than almost anyone else in our company. i should capitalize upon that and make myself indispensible.

i want to surround myself with intelligent, energetic, positive people. i have no time for those who don't care about the world around them, and who view it with negativity or contempt. this is where we dwell - we fashion our environment with our gaze and our spirit. it is our choice to make it a negative place or a beautiful one. which do you choose?

i've also begun 'coming clean' - i am realizing my habit of holding my secrets inside is toxic. somethings should be brought out into the open so that they can't poison you from within, and i've begun to do that. for example, last night i went out with my boss. she's a lot like me - her first instinct is to try and face hardship and difficult situations on her own. like me, she doesn't want to inconvenience anyone with her emotion. she's splitting up with her husband right now, and it's not the best situation, and it's forced her to reach out to the people around her and develop a support network. this is a lesson i, too, learned the hard way, and, for the first time last night, i told her a bit of everything that went on with crazyjeremy, with mr m two years ago, with me in general. i told her how my dad is having brain surgery on the fourth, and sort of intimated how i am very afraid. i told her a bit about the kiddo's dad, and about raising the kiddo on my own and how proud of *myself* i am starting to be (this, too, is a new and wondrous sensation for me).

man, just saying that outloud makes me stop and think of how rare it is for me to be proud of MYSELF. i'm so nearsighted when it comes to my own accomplishments. i need to learn how to step back and enjoy them, rather than dash headlong from one thing to the next without savouring the small victories which come each day.

ahh i don't know where i'm going with this. some days i feel like everything i write here is negative and pointless - i'm using my keyboard to masturbate my angst - today i feel excited and positive and i wanted to share that, too.

matt good is back at the top of his game and tony is writing love letters, but not to me....

xo

(ps - i know the pic is a repeat. it just kinda fit my mood today...)

incredulous at best your desire to believe in

ok so i have gone on an average of 3 'first dates' a week for the past month. that's pretty good, i figure.

here are some things i've figured out:
1) guys don't want to date women who have kids
2) guys don't want to date women who don't want kids
3) it doesn't matter if i get naked on the first date, don't get naked on the first date, dress up, dress down, am vivacious and flirty or am a quiet good listener - guys only want to shag me.
4) if i do put out on the first date, nine times out of ten they don't call back
5) if i don't put out on the first date, nine times out of ten they don't call back
6) if they do call back, it's usually to say that they aren't looking for a relationship right now, but would like to 'take it one step at a time'
7) 'take it one step at a time' means hang out long enough to a) shag again or b) shag for the first time, and *then* stop calling
8) none of the advice that anyone has given me has worked

so i'm trying to remain optimistic, but i fear that i am becoming jaded. yes, yes, i know. i mean MORE jaded. i have to admit that i've had sick headaches for a week and haven't been able to hold down my meds, so am a tad more navel-gazing than normal, but i am still lucid. mostly.

i think perhaps it has something to do with this sense of ephemerality i'm having right now... even my job is feeling very limited, and limiting. and usually i LOVE my job and everything to do with it.

ah i dunno. i need some sunshine.

and lo, the apocalypse is nigh

so last night i was on my way to another first date (ha eat that adam sandler. fifty. pshaw) when i noticed that one of my tires felt a little squishy. yes, that is the technical term.

so, naturally, i pulled into a convenient esso station to rectify the situation and continue on my way. safety first, and all that. i putter around to the air pump and pull up; jump out of the car, handy-dandy tire gauge thrust out in front of me like orlando bloom in that kingdom of heaven movie when what do i see?

no.

it can't possibly be?

yup.

air - 50cents.


i mean, i am used to spending more per litre of water than i do for gasoline (and that's not an easy thing to do these days) but now i find that the gas company is not ONLY gouging me to fill up my car but also to fill up my TIRES?! WHAT THE FUCK?

how is that even allowed? how can they possibly be allowed to charge for AIR?

someone please explain this to me.

what's my age again?

so i was sitting in the living room this morning with my mama, sipping an au lait and leafing through the weekend paper while 'to kill a mockingbird' played softly in the background.

i came across a feature article written about adults who don't grow up - about the societal changes that have taken place which differentiate parents of *my* generation from parents of ... well... myparents. it talks about how, nowadays, it is quite common to see folks in their thirties hanging out with their kids - going to concerts, downloading music, kitesurfing, snowboarding, you know - all the stuff that i do on a weekly, if not daily, basis. however, the article just kind of illustrates the actuality of it, and fails to delve into the *why*.

why is it that parents are so much 'younger' now? or, more appropriately, i guess, is it considered more acceptable for parents to shrug off the weight of familial roles - to blur the lines between mom and dad and offspring as commonly as it is now to shrug off the traditional gender roles of mom staying home in the kitchen while dad goes to work every day?

or is that what is really happening?

i don't see myself as being my kid's friend. i'm his parent - first and foremost. i do have a much more open relationship with him than i did with my parents - this is something that i've purposefully put in place in an effort to do away with the vast gulf that exists, to this day, between my mom and dad an i. when i was growing up i was dead afraid to be honest with them about anything, because i knew i'd get into trouble. so, whenever i had something painful or stressful to deal with, i just internalized it and pretended it wasn't happening - i didn't have an adult support system. i never wanted to have that happen with the kiddo and i, so i made great efforts to keep the lines of communication open - to make sure that he knows that, even though i may not approve of what he's telling me, i will always listen and be supportive and offer advice or succor to the best of my abilities.

(as an aside, the sister scoffed at the idea that this relationship was something i've built purposefully. she figures it's just the kiddo's nature to be honest. which it is, of course, but let's not kid - his honesty and openness with me is one of my proudest accomplishments as a parent. it's not an easy thing to develop and maintain - especially now that he's 16 going on 32 and thinks he's seen it all. heh. she should just wait till she has kids and realizes how hard it actually is to walk the line between parental panic at what you are being told and calmly and rationally accepting the fact that this *person* beside you has a life of their own and as easily capable of hiding it from you as you are at hiding yours from them. but anyway...)

i don't think that parents should view or treat their kids as their best friends - there has to be a level of detachment. kids still need to know that you are strong enough to guide them through the rough times. when they want friends, they'll go to their peers. they need the discipline and the security that comes from knowing that there is someone with authority who is manning the gates, as it were.

however, i also don't think that, just because a person becomes a parent they should give up their life and their interests. kids shouldn't mean that you have to change who you are. they should enhance your life and give you a new appreciation of the world and the wonders within it. kids can, if you let them, keep you young - they see the world with new perspectives, without the world-weariness of someone who has been there, done that. and they are people - they have opinions and attitudes and interests of their own, and they learn different things and have different perspectives which can only serve to enhance those of whom they choose to share them with.

i know that there are people who don't agree with the way i'm raising my kid. i know that, at times, it's hard for *my* parents to understand. when he was going through such a rough patch a couple of years ago, a woman who knew me kind of remotely told me that it was my fault - that because i worked so much and lived my life the way i have, i was too blame for him being "fucked up" (her words not mine). that was hard to take, at the time, 'cause it spoke to any parent's deepest fear - that your failings as a parent have damaged your children.

but i also know that my son and i have an amazing relationship. i know that he will cancel plans with his friends to hang out with me. i watched him, when we were at the nine inch nails show, make a wall with his body between me and some guys who were totally slam dancing to keep me from getting banged around. i know that he's kind of a momma's boy, even though you'd never know it. and, more than anything, i know he respects me, my opinions, and my intelligence, and he knows that i love him fiercely and will stick by him through anything.

and that, i think, is the most important thing of all.

let it pass let it pass let it pass over you

ok so for the second morning in a row i've woken up with a draft beer headache. this wouldn't irritate me as greatly if i'd actually been *drinking* draft beer last night, but whatevs.

the sister and i rode all along the richmond dyke last night - all in all, about 15km or so. not a bad ride. she led the way down, so it was... erm.... let's say a leisurely pace. i, however, was in the lead on our return, so we moved a little quickly. she had jello legs at the end. heheh. we rode past this little spot called finn slough - it's the last working fishing village on the fraser river, and is a wonderful little spot. if you click the link you can look at all sorts of photos, and learn about the interesting history of the area.

i really like steveston for exactly this reason - vancouver is still so *new*, and it's hard to get a sense of history when you are here. places like finn slough are steeped in a sense of the past - like you have stepped out of your own time and into a place that is simpler, less rushed, just better.

there is enough hippie in me that the idea of living somewhere isolated from the city really appeals to me. if i didn't murder every green thing that comes into my line of vision, i love the idea of growing vegetables and stuff, you know?

ah well... maybe if i am good, demeter will let me grow some herbs in pots this year....

his sight goes red again

i have this homepage thing that gives me headlines, horoscopes, and comix in the morning. i come into work, check my voicemail, scan over my emails for anything urgent, make coffee and read this as a way to settle into my day. this morning i encountered an article in an online sanfrancisco paper extremely interesting, as it mirrors a)some of my own uneasiness with our current medical system and b)the sarcastic journalistic writing style i aspire to:

But you do not have to believe me. You merely need to glance at the latest version of the Diagnostic and Statistical Manual of Mental Disorders (known to devotees as DSM-IV), the deeply creepy bible of the psychiatric profession.

The DSM, it is like a tumor. It is like a Christian megachurch. And while it has been, I'm sure, hugely helpful and necessary to many, it is churning and growing and seething all the time, swallowing all of humanity in its vortex of new and vaguely quantifiable suffering. To read any part of it is to come away convinced you suffer from at least a dozen happy disorders.

Which is just another way of saying we are aswim in a bizarre and surreal system, one in which shiny good-hearted doctors conduct well-funded studies and then write the descriptions of the resultant disorder they invariably find (and they always, always find something), then turn around and make a nice payment on their sweet new Mercedes SL with the money they made from the pharmaceutical company that paid them to identify the new disorder for which the pharmco can now invent fun, toxic, new behavior-modifying drugs to treat. See? Everybody's happy.

I am now enjoying this trend. Surely, the next major update of the DSM, in 2011, will include all manner of new conditions, including IED. But perhaps it can also include other common afflictions of the modern world.

Let us now suggest: Rumsfeld Hope/Joy Dysplasia, or Oozing Coulter Panic Arrhythmia, or Spasmodic Ben Stiller Recoil. Let us offer up, say, Sudden Leather-Whiffing Swoon Syndrome, or Fingerling Potato Polycystic Neuroplasmia, or Diastrophic Cervical Frat Boy Rejection Clampdown. Then there's always Hyperkinetic Eyeball Flutter Related to Excessive Images of Dead Innocent Iraqis (HEFREIDII).

GOP Colon Self-Knotting Disease. Jingoism Synapse Slaughter. Jesus Did Not Say That Repetitive Exclamation Fatigue. Vatican-Induced Blood-Boiling Soul Trauma. Lynne Cheney.

Why not define some of your own? Submit them to the DSM-V, laugh and watch your own tendency toward IED drop dramatically. Hell, who needs Prozac?
- Mark Morford

read the whole article here.

i stick my fingers into my eyes

i'm in a funny headplace. i'm trying to force myself into transition i feel the need to enact a paradigm shift in my own existance. i'm making lists and lists and lists - things i have, things i no longer own but will need to buy, and, of all things, goals. in all this time i've never ever made a list of goals for myself - a list of goals in writing on a page with space to tick them off as they reach completion with space to stare at me accusingly as they remain unticked. i've given myself a hard deadline of september 15 to be on the move - this inbetween world of my current life grows cloying and i no longer can maintain my semi-conciousness. i need to be on my own.

i have stayed living in my current space because it's been easy, and 'cause my dad's been sick, and because i've been afraid - afraid to be by myself, here, in this city where it is so hard to make connections with people and so hard to be alone. but, when i stop and consider, i have made connections - i have met people, and now i want to bring them into my world instead of briefly dipping my toes into the pool of theirs.

you are all invited.

xo

bare me no ill will i'm there

so my li'l brother has asked where i find these guys. well you see, a long time ago, tom cruise approached me with a proposition. he offered me the opportunity to be the breeding ground for his first alien fetus - the initial assault, shall we say, in his bid for world domination. i, of course, said hells no - first of all, i don't find him attractive in the least. having sex with him would require a feat of imaginative powers that exceed even my own. second - i had no desire to become a scientologist. i was worried that i may have to hang with john travolta on a semi-regular basis. that dancing thing must grow old pretty fast - i mean, for how many movies can you really expect a thrusting finger and a hip wiggle to disguise the fact that my left bcbg boot is a better actor than you are?

tom, of course, does not take rejection well (look what he did to poor nicole's face). however, he balked at tampering with my seductive beauty, and instead decided to put it to work against me. he implanted a top-secret military weapon in my brain - an asshole magnet. any asshole within a 72 mile radius will be hypnotically drawn into my presence. no big deal, you may be thinking to yourself. just fend them off with your superpowers, sweet raspberry.

no can do, my friends, no can do.

see, this magnet also counteracts any asshole repelling superpowers i have - it's like kryptonite to my no-asshole mojo. i'm rendered helpless by their charms. and, frighteninly, it works exponentially: the bigger the asshole, the sweeter, more attracted, and more defenseless i become. and, conversely, the nicer the guy, the more repelled i am.

i currently have a secret laboratory full of the most brilliant scientists and mojo-fixers frenetically working away at a cure. in the meantime, i'm doomed to date asshole after asshole.

le sigh.


(in boat boy's defense, it was actually his friend who did the text messaging. he was unaware of the whole thing till the end. he apologized profusely yesterday. in any case, i'm still pretty much turned off by him and the whole escapade. the scientists must be making some headway....)

but lately I feel like I'm just gonna rain and it goes over, and over, and over again

i wish i could figure a way out to forward myself entire transcripts of text message conversations. it started innocently enough.... with the boat boy trying to talk me into getting out of bed and come over 'cause he was horny. he'd been out with some friends earlier - his best buddy and a girl - and was home now. i had maybe been going to meet up with them but didn't.

anyway, about halfway through the conversation he was telling me how worked up him and (insert female name here) were, and how they wanted me.

what to the the fuck?

oh wait - apparently the big conversation we had about how i wasn't looking for casual sex was a figment of my imagination. the part where i specifically said i was looking for *more* and he said that he was too somehow was all talk. he signed off the text messages after i said i wasn't interested in just being his piece of ass - as he had to "finish what he started". then, about five minutes later, he was back asking if i had plans for tomorrow and if i wanted to fuck.

oh i'm so confused.

didn't we just HAVE this conversation?

i'm sure we did. wait - let me scroll back through the ... ah yes. here it is. I DON'T WANT TO JUST BE YOUR PIECE OF ASS. yes - i was quite clear, though the .... oh hang on. new text message. "my friend (insert female name here) abducted my phone. i'm sorry - it wasn't me".

AGAIN. WHAT TO THE THE FUCK?

oh i'm so confused.....

you were the last good thing about this part of town

so what's the usual length of time you date someone before you stop dating, or trying to date, other people? i know it usually depends from person to person but on average? i'm just curious. and how do you ask someone that you've kinda been seeing that question? or should you? my problem is that i like to know where i stand. i hate the not knowing, you know? like i don't want to hang out with someone and invest time and energy, then find out after a few weeks that you aren't really what they are looking for, you have just been fun in the meantime. you know? and i don't have any real reason for asking this, i guess. i've been out with the boat boy twice, and have talked to him pretty much every day for the past three weeks or so - clearly too early to be exclusive. or is it? i just don't know. i'm not good with this dating thing. i'm good with meeting someone, totally digging their company, and being with that person. or - on the complete opposite side of the spectrum - meeting someone, being totally attracted to them, getting naked with them, and never looking back.

le sigh.

----------------------------------------------------------------------------------

so today i took screetus along the seawall. ok let's tell the truth, here - i made him walk about ten kilometers across vancouver, down the seawall, around stanley park, and back across vancouver. along the route we ate gelato, saw lululemon clad exercise junkies, checked out the rock piles on english bay, and saw a pack of naked cyclists blocking traffic on denman street.

yup.

naked.

on bicycles.

naked cyclists.

only in vancouver.

i also pointed out my favourite cupcake spot, but i had just finished gelato and heck i can't very well be gluttinous in front of someone who's only just met me...so last night i hung out with the boat boy again. he puzzles me - he's intensely private (he lives somewhere you can only reach BY BOAT for jeebus' sake), so getting him to talk about himself is pretty much impossible. but hell, you know me and unavailable men. like a bee to honey... a bee to honey. i say again - le sigh. when oh when will you learn little raspberry girl?

can we briefly revisit the fact that i watched fifty naked people ride their bikes up a major downtown throughfare this afternoon? i don't care HOW culturally advanced toronto thinks it is - but judging by the look on screetus' face, i betcha they don't see that shit very often. and let's not kid - there are fewer higher cultural peaks than naked bike riders.

in a pack.

on a saturday afternoon.

in tourist season.

i love summer.

hurdle through the forest of doubt

so what do i want to say?
i had all this stuff this morning - stuff about driving in the rain and wishing the sun was shining, but i seem to have lost it all. i guess maybe 'cause it's fourteen hours later and who the heck can be expected to hold a thought for that long? not i said the fly.

so last night i was going to go out with a wildlife photographer - he was going to show me how to use my camera (oh is that what the kids are calling it these days?). it was a beautiful night, though, so instead i went to the sister's place. we rode bikes (her on a chopper, me on her bf's bmx, and went down to the point and had some supper on the beach. then we cruised around a little more, and back through the village, had some gelato, and headed off home. it was one of my favourite nights in a long time.

i might be burning out of the party party thing. all i want to do now is hang out with my sister and my friends and lie on the beach and read books. i want to go to yoga and drink some beer on a patio. i want to hang out with the boat boy, or another nice fun boy who likes me lots and lots and go for walks and hold hands and lie face to face naked on a bed, on top of the blankets because it's too hot to crawl underneath, let the cool breeze from the fan wash slowly over us, and talk and kiss.

any takers? you must be cute. you must like summer nights and beer. you must be willing to hold my hand when we go walking. you must be willing to give me my space. you must like to kiss and talk and sometimes do nothing else but that. you must like chocolate croissants, or be willing to maybe go get me one for breakfast every once in a while (ohh an americano, too). you must like seeing me wear skirts and know that i really like it when you put your hand on the curve under my ass - just at the top of my thigh, and when you hold it lightly on the small of my back when we are standing side by side. you must be able to have a conversation with me. you must get along with the sister and mike b. most of all you must like me for ME - not for my tits or my mouth or the way i fuck.

still interested? you know how to find me.

all I wanna do is stand in this lie

i introduced a boy to my favourite pub last night. he's a drug rep so is an interesting friendship to cultivate.. i like to test people based on the reaction they have to this place. sure it's in my little town and sure it's in the middle of nowhere but the patio is pretty much unsurpassed in the lower mainland, the drinks are reasonably priced, the service is good and the food is great. i'm not sure what i'm seeking in people's reactions - perhaps some recognition of the fact that i'm letting them in on a little secret, a hidden place that i don't show to everyone. the drug rep guy kinda got it - i could see a hint of revelation in his eyes.

halfway through the evening boat boy called - my phone lit up like christmas and sure enough there he was and it was all i could do to not answer. i called him back when i got home - lying on my bed in the dark, half undressed, breeze lilting through the window, dancing across my skin.

'i'm half drunk' he said.
'funny - me too' my eyes closed, smile at my lips.
'where are you right now?' i descriped the scene painted on the back of my eyelids, drowsily adding details as they appeared in my mind.
'hm. don't you wish you were here?' he asked. i said yes, of course i did, but really i didn't want to be. i wanted his voice in my mind, leading my imagination by the hand through his desire and fantasy.
'are you coming to see me friday?'
'mmmm' i breathed.
'do you want to hear what i'm going to do to you when you get here?' that's what i want - i want the flight of fancy. it's always so much better when i play the scene for myself.

let the love in, let the love in, come back to me

ok

so

i think it is safe to say that i am in desparate need of a vacation.

why do i think this? well, for one, i can't stop thinking about work. for two, i failed to allow another car to change lanes in front of me this morning - i wasn't an asshole, and didn't *prevent* it from happening, i just didn't slow down to accommodate them. for three, i was hanging out with a boy last night and i found myself tensing up every time he touched me. and he's a nice boy - a cute boy, and he didn't affect me like this the other night.

hmfph.

what should i do? i don't have a lot of money. i could maybe scrape together enough airfair to go to rotterdam. or perhaps i could pop down to LA for a couple of days. i've been to neither place. i don't really want to go by myself though. i can do solo vacations, but i find it's more fun when you have someone to adventure with. and, of course, there is the alberta crew, but that's not so far from home.

hmmmm....

In theory, there is no difference between theory and practice; In practice, there is. (chuck reid)

happy birthday chad

wake up and face me

ok i am no longer allowed to have the keys. i just went to the bank on my way home, came out after depositing money and discovered i'd locked my keys in the car. well done , me - keyless adventures twice in one week (you'll understand when i tell the saga of sunday). fortunately, there was a nice gentleman standing staring at his apartment building as he'd locked himself out of it. he had a bungee cord. it is, indeed, possible to break into my car with a will and a bungee cord. don't ask.

he said he had noticed me and wondered what someone like me was doing at a bank in tsawwassen at 7.30 in the morning. i replied 'unsaid - looking like i haven't been home yet?' he laughed and said he had noticed but it wasn't his place to comment. then he asked if it had been a good night. why yes, yes indeed it was not bad at all.

i sunburned my lips so badly last weekend that i am missing a huge chunk of skin on my lower lip where it peeled. it hurts like a motherfucker, and is, needless to say, damm sexy. rawr.

------------------------------------------------------------------------
he took my bottom lip between his teeth. i gasped a little and my eyes widened - it hurts where it was sunburned and even kissing is spiked with pain. 'does that hurt?' he asked. i nodded, eyes still wide. he bit down a little harder and the electricity charged up my spine into my brain - white hot on fire. he rolled me over on top of him, pressing himself against me, still holding my lip between his teeth. the sensations radiated out into my fingertips, my ass, shivers extending across my skin. he reached up and took my breasts in his hands, squeezing the nipples between thumb and forefinger - hard, harder, hardest. 'what about now?' my back arched, my lip nearly ripping free from his teeth but he me firm with his teeth, his fingers, pushing his cock inside me. 'and now? how does it feel now?'

speak the truth, or make your peace some other way

i really do like that godsmack song.

i don't feel like writing about sunday right now, even though it was possibly the most... shall we say *eventful* day i've had in a very long time. it's supposed to rain all weekend, though, so maybe i'll get to it tomorrow or sunday. not tonight - i've got plans. sorry.

other maintenance -
lurkers, i know you are out there. if you link to me would you please let me know so i can update my blogroll? i'm not so good about following up on that stuff, but i'd like to return the favour. leave a comment, or if you prefer, shoot me an email and we'll keep it on the down to the l-o, if you get my drift.

homesqueeze.

you know who you are.


xo

in a dictatorship you don't have to waste your time voting

i like little twists of synchronicity. you know, like how the other day i posted spam bukowski. then, this morning, i was waking up with tony like i do everyday and he was talking about bukowski and how he doesn't read him enough (me either, baby). and then, when i went over to google to look up ride share here in vancouver 'cause gas prices are cutting in to my beer-and-shoe budget, what should pop up but one of my favourite quotes from sir charles himself.

i heart that.

so last night i was all set to go home and post day two of sasquatch for you, but i ended up going for a drink with a guy i met over the innerweb and then the drink turned into dinner and then dinner turned into going back to his place and his place turned out to be at a house accessible only by boat so wtf i guess i had to stay over 'cause i sure as heck ain't rude enough to make someone drive (boat? sail?) me back to shore in the middle of the night. and you know, he kissed really sweetly and so one thing led to another (again) (as it often does) and we stayed up super late and got up at 4.30 so i could get home to shower and change and come to work. sure i coulda worn the same clothes two days in a row but i chucked my underwear overboard on the way to his place and didn't want to show up for work ala commando. you know how it is.

day two - saturday
so mikeb had to drive back to vancity on friday night after the show to participate in a rowing regatta first thing saturday morning. he's way more responsible than i am, man, cause i would have said fuckthatshit and just kept getting drunk. which i did. he left the kiddo, l-o and i to our own devices and a cooler of beer. we got up saturday and broke out the campstove and proceeded to make pancakes, which, by the way, is a two person job when the people are hungover and you are using a kerosene stove. you know, just in case you were curious. we have no photos of the scrambled pancakes, but the edmonton boys didn't mind them at all. some guy was randomly walking past and we gave him some pancakes too. he tried to give us money but that's dumb - karma is sweet to you (and trust me i'm awaiting my payback with bated breath) if you are sweet to her first. (he came back sunday, too, but he missed out by like forty seconds) (serves him for sleeping in).

annnyhooo. as soon as breakfast was cleared up we pulled the camp chairs up with our friends and broke into the beer. after we'd had a few, we packed up some snax, some pb&j sandwiches, and some bottled water and headed down to the show. we got there in time to see the second half of gomez on the side stage, and the rest of the bands from there on in. the sun was shining, we were surrounded by good company, we were all half cut, and the music was great. how could a day get better?

heh.


well, i'll tell you how it could *not* get better - by the skies opening up to the biggest thunderstorms i've seen since leaving peegee, replete with pouring rain, wind, and driving hail. like, two inches worth of hail on the ground. we hauled out the emergency rain ponchos i'd fortuitously purchased before leaving home and struggled against the wind to catch the constantines. who had started their set early. who got to play one song before being shut down due to weather. they hung around on stage to see if they could start again, and some diehard in the crowd in front of them broke into an impromptu chorus of 'oh canada'. the rest of us diehards joined in. the poor kiddo, though, seems to be doomed to never see them play live.

the venue shut down the side stages, so, soaked, we all moved over to the main stage. the hip came next, then the shins, and then the flaming lips where scheduled to come up next. however, because everyone was tired and wet and cold, and you couldn't purchase a hot drink within the venue to save your life, the promoters flipped ben harper and the lips, so that ben harper took the stage next. now, i'm not a die hard ben harper fan - i enjoy his stuff, and even have a few albums, but i don't have heart palpitations if i don't get a listen fix on a regular basis, you know? with that said, there were moments in his 2 and a half hour long set where he was so into the music you could have sworn he was crying. the passion and talent he displayed were, perhaps, unmatched at that event - and i saw some great acts. sadly, i don't have any photos, 'cause mikeb was on a picture bender during nin and my camera batteries died just as the shins started playing. i do, however, have pictures in my mind that i'll have forever.

next up - sunday. sunshine, kisses, keys, and the amazing ems staff of quincy washington....