i wonder

i was reading over at matt good's space and pondering his ponderings over youth violence. he's been discussing this sort of on and off since last friday or so, when he was the victim of some random violence himself - that is, someone threw a wrench at his head while he was on stage.

it comes at a fairly timely moment - kelly ellard was just convicted of the murder of reena virk yesterday. for those of you unaware of the story, 22yr old kelly ellard was charged with participating in the beating and murder of (then)14 year old reena virk. it's taken eight years to come to a verdict on this case, and there was only one other person prosecuted for the murder.

that aside, matt good has posted a link to a fairly graphic video on his site - i guess the fun new trend in highschools (less cool than, say, ipods but moreso than tongue rings) is to have random spectator beatings which are filmed with a digital camera or mobile phone and uploaded to the internet.

he comes down fairly hard on the parents of the kids who participate in such activities. while i support a lot of what he's saying, i also would maybe, just maybe, put up a hand in caution.

first of all, teen violence is not a new thing. when i was thirteen years old, a girl a good foot taller than i decided to waylay me on my route home from school, hold me at arms length, and pound the crap out of my face because the guy she had a crush on preferred me. the word had gotten out ahead of time, so there was a crowd of probably 200 people there to witness the fun. the only reason she stopped is 'cause one of my (male, by the way) friends jumped on her back and pulled her off me. she was the daughter of a cop. this would be all the more horrifying if it were a random event, but nope -happened at least once a week, in my school.

second of all, it's way to easy to blame parents and say that people see raising children as an inconvenience. i think that's too simplistic. we live in a society which essentially demands a two income household. only the upper middle class can really afford to have one parent stay at home and, well, parent. and it's not a matter of having luxuries and two cars and a cell in every pocket - it's that to rent a two bedroom apartment in most parts of vancouver you will have to spend between $1500 and $2000 per month. forget mortgages - for a family home the dollars and cents are over 300K. who can afford that on 45-500000 per year? parent's just can't always be there. you try and teach your kids to make good decisions and be caring citizens, but, ultimately, you can't always be there.

i think that you can't separate 'parents' from society at large. we have become completely disconnected from our sense of responsibility to our community as a whole. it's very trendy to be worried about green space in our neighbourhoods, or to make sure you take cloth bags to the grocery, and to recycle and that stuff, but what the hell does that matter if we have lost sight of the importance of teaching our children that we are all intertwined? is spending time bringing attention to amnesty international more important than mentoring kids in a local highschool, or maybe volunteering to give music lessons at a local boys and girls club, or just taking the time to talk to the boy in the next apartment who's single mom maybe has to work two jobs just to keep food on the table?

we are so isolated, now. we live in suburbs where we only sleep. we drive everywhere. we don't speak with our neighbours or the folks beside us in line or the grocer or the newsagent or anyone else. heck - in my office it's more common to phone or use the instant messanger to talk to your coworkers than it is to go over to their desk and say hello. we don't see ourselves as part of a greater thing.

so ya, everyday youth violence is, in part, the fault of the parents. but, in a larger sense, it's my fault and your fault and his fault and her fault.

so here's my challenge to you, matt good - you are extremely well spoken and extremely influential and well respected. i challenge you, matt good, to maybe, just maybe, try and bring as much attention to local programs that try and teach kids to be active, caring members of our communities as you do to darfur, and amnesty international and all those other worthy charities. 'cause sure, here in canada we are pampered and live soft lives and don't have bombs raining down on our heads every day. but that doesn't mean the kids who live here deserve respect and love and mentoring and education any less than iraqui children or sudanese children or american children or anyone's children.

cold feet

that is to say, my toes are cold... i just painted my nails silvery pink and so don't want to put my socks back on yet.

random confession #14:

i wear socks to bed with a fair amount of regularity. they usually stay on from the time i climb in till about 1/3 of the way through the night, at which point they get too warm and i kick them off. i just leave them in the bed, so at any given time there's at least one pair of socks under the blankets. i figure why move them, since i'm just gonna put 'em back on again when i get back into bed with cold feet?

how's that for a metaphor?

things i have learned this weekend

1) i can*NOT* do stupid things like eat a piece of pizza at three am anymore. i used to be able to do it, just once in a while, you know? not anymore. spent the first 3 hours i was awake yesterday puking. not fun.

2) orangina is, indeed, the liquid of the gods. think of it - lightly carbonated to help the belly, slightly sweet to get my sugar levels back up, brightly vitamin-c'd to help with recovery. gorgeous.

3) what i'm really looking for is one man who combines the qualities currently being brought to my life by The New Boy and r-. The New Boy = stable, considerate, caring, older than me, reads, mature, stuff like that. r- = fun, dirty, laughs like crazy, gets more out of music than even i do, parties his ass off, stuff like that. both = tough boys, scrappy, short, strong, work out, irreverant, like sex. do you think there exists a guy who has ALL of these qualities? could i be so lucky?

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

seriously, though. i'm 32-almost-33 years old. should i be looking for the more-stable laid back boy? what am i doing hanging out with a 26 year old kid who just wants to spin records and fuck and party? i'm just not ready to give that stuff up yet, you know? that's something i learned with mr.m. i am not ready to stay home every weekend and do "family" stuff and garden and run errands all weekend. i need to find someone who is both things - cause there are definately moments (like saturday night) when i want to curl up on the couch and watch videos and eat chips and fall asleep and wake up to someone carrying me to bed and tucking me in.

but on friday night.. friday night i hit the ground running as soon as i got off work and didn't slow down till 6am saturday morning. at one point on friday night when we were still at the club r- looked at me and said "you know, no matter how far i push you, you turn around and look at me and ask me to go farther... how far are you going to let me go?" and i gave him the only true answer, which was "farther than you ever dreamed you could", then made him chase me as i whirled and spun across the dance floor. friday night was about electricity and attraction and loud music and lights and boys and vodka and knowing, KNOWING that he was blowing off other plans not 'cause he wanted to go dancing where we were going but 'cause he wanted to fuck the HELL out of me at the end of the night. (i'm not painting him in a very positive light right now... i'm making it sound like there isn't very real affection between us, and like we don't genuinely enjoy each other's company, which isn't true at all.)

so how do i find a boy who is both? do you know one? are you one? does such a boy exist? what qualities does your ideal mate possess? are you holding out till you can find them? or have you given up on your dream and are settling for someone you aren't entirely happy with, or settling for solitude and friends and work?

shit that worries me

- why is speak spelled s-p-e-a-k, but speech s-p-e-e-c-h?

*hem hem*

ok so i'm sitting here eating an entirely passable sauce that i put together with tuna, olives, artichokes, white wine, tomatoes, red peppers, zucchini, and fresh basil poured over rice. my sauce to rice ratio is easily 2:1. yum-o-rama. didn't feel like going out to eat, despite my 11.5hour long day, so made sauce. good call, i figure.

question for you... how long should you keep a link up on your site after somebody stops updating (ahem mike b)? like seriously - one month? two months? what is acceptable? i mean, he's my wing man and all... but at what point can i remove the non-updated link without being rude? thoughts? rebuttals? it's kind of like other eternal dilemma - how long do you keep a greeting card after the event for which it was given. when your 31st birthday rolls around, is it now culturally acceptable to dispose of the cards received for all others between the ages of 1 and 30? do you toss the card as soon as the giver has turned their back? or do you just slowly compile a drawerful, only to be disposed of when you move or run out of space for tea towels?

see, i TOLD you!

todae's horoscope:

The lights are low, the music is just right and the person you're with is the person you've been waiting for all your life. But if there's even one iota of doubt in your mind, don't make plans for that Elvis chapel in Vegas. Why risk making a mistake that serious when all you have to do is wait until Mercury isn't retrograde? Never mind what that means. Just wait until after the 12th. You'll be glad you did.

rock & fuckin' roll

Recently I have been having a conversation with different people regarding the upcoming U2 concerts here in Vancouver. To me, it's kind of important I take my kid to see them, because it may the last chance he has to see a 'supergroup', 'cause I wonder if such a thing exists anymore. I've been thinking to myself that there are currently no other bands which have the possibility to engage people on such a diverse and generational scale as U2 does. They may be the very last of music's power icons.* Everybody has a different opinion on why - the record companies aren't invested in nurturing artists anymore; the internet has given us such immense access to differnt groups and artists that rarely does one inspire loyalty in it's listeners anymore; the list goes on** - but it seems like few people have considered the underlying implications or meaning of this phenomenon.

This was brought to the forefront of my mind again on Thursday, when I went to see Velvet Revolver at the Pacific Coliseum. The whole evening was set out as a "back to basics rock & roll show" - this is even how Slash described it in a pre-show radio interview. Scott Weiland's stage presence channels the icons of rock: his slinky garb and the amorphous sexuality oozes late seventies Bowie. His back and forth rooster strut invokes Mick Jagger in his heyday. Digesting Weiland's on-stage persona, in concert with noticing the black leather tophat perched upon an amp and watching Slash and Duff close the show by walking off the stage arm in arm, you realize you are watching an encapsulation of rock and roll history. This concert embodies the rock & roll experience; the rock & roll tradition.

Anthony Giddens, director of the London School of Economics, outlined several key elements which define a tradition:

First, it involves some form of ceremonial ritual or ritualistic behavior. Second, tradition involves a group of people; it's collective and social in nature. Third, traditions have guardians such as historians that have access to the knowledge or the truth of tradition's sacred rituals. Fourth, tradition stirs emotion within individuals to bring about a greater sense of self-awareness. In some cultures, these rituals are important to one's self-identity within the context of a larger society. (excerpted from metro news.

What is a rock concert but a tradition; a mass gathering which the participants adhere to rules and patterns without any formal training in such a milieu. You don't take lessons on how to behave when you go to see a concert, you just know how to behave. Everyone knows that when the band leaves the stage but the lights don't come up, you are supposed to clap and stomp and cheer and call them back. This is your opportunity to pay your respects to the spectacle. When a soft song is played, the lighters are held in the air. When the band turns the mike to the crowd, everyone sings. The call and response of the spectacle call to the collective conciousness of the crowd.

In the 1950's, Guy DeBord and the Situationists proposed a cultural revolution which reunitied art and everyday life. They felt that the alienation of everyday man from the deeper meanings of everyday life and the creative output had marginalized all relationships - captialism rendered life 'transactional' and reduced it to a 'spectacle'. That is, the superficiality of the creative endeavour masks the disatisfaction of a life separated from creativity and art.

Halfway through the concert, Scott Weiland took the opportunity to speak to the crowd about the state of modern music. He addressed his audience in an attempt to have us understand what the record companies have done to the artist. He differentiated between bands like Velvet Revolver and much of what is considered "pop" music*** by saying that the record companies have created an industry in which they support the flash-in-pan "pop" stars because they require a minimum investment. backing an artist with longevity is not in the financial plan - it's easier to generate carbon copies and spoon feed them formulaic paint-by-numbers pre-packaged performances then it is to support and nurture the development of an actual "artist". "So what do bands like Velvet Revolver do?" Weiland asked the crowd.. "We take our show on the road. What do the record companies call you people?" he called out. "They call you consumers. What do we call you? Mother-fucking rock and roll fans!". The crowd, of course, responded as it was intended to do.

What Weiland seemed to be implying is that Velvet Revolver is re-developing the relationship between the artist and the art and the crowd. When he stood on the stage and raised and lowered his arms like a space age messiah, he played the crowd like an instrument. The crowd's voices and reactions rose and fell with his gestures, turning the voices of the audience into another instrument - into part of the band. While the record companies seduce the masses as consumers (reduce them from being into merely having), Velvet Revolver is breaking down the division between the masses by involving them in the production of the entertainment itself - the spectacle becomes not the superficial stageshow of the Britney Spears' of the music world, but an interactive experience with its basis in the deepest cultural traditions of rock & roll.

These traditions remind us (the audience) of our sense of self and integral role in the show. The division between work and play is diminished and the individuals in the crowd become active participants in constructing their own experience. Moreover, who is cast in the role of performer and who is cast in the role of crowd is no longer clear. Guy DeBord and the Situationists "insisted that every individual should actively and consciously participate in the reconstruction of every moment of life. They called themselves Situationists precisely because they believed that all individuals should construct the situations of their lives and release their own potential and obtain their own pleasure." (http://catless.ncl.ac.uk/Obituary/debord.html) Velvet Revolver is enacting, through their performance, the cultural revolution which the Situationists deemed necessary for freedom from a consumerist society.

Of course, this argument is problematic in that it cost up to $65 to attend this 'cultural revolution' and, beyond that, Velvet Revolver is in the business of selling records and t-shirts and concert tickets and g-string underwear. However, it seemed, to me, interesting that in a time where we are so missing the presence of a band to fill the shoes of U2, a supergroup to inspire us to a rock & roll lifestyle in which art is NOT separated from culture, Scott Weiland stood on stage and reminded us that the rock & roll lifestyle is the embodiement of a world in which the art *is* the lifestyle.

long live rock & fuckin' roll.





* and in saying this i don't mean a power group in the sense of a group that's currently really popular and makes a lot of money. i mean a group that appeals to a broad spectrum of people - diverse ages, backgrounds, and musical tastes; one that has longevity or the potential for longevity; one that has the power (for lack of a better world) to take control of their creative process out of the hands of the record company; and, obviously, one that makes vast sales.

** everyone also has ideas on who (if any) has the potential to be a 'supergroup' - pearl jam, radiohead. would it even *be* a 'rock' band? or maybe eminem stands more chance?

*** when the crowd reacted negatively to the term "pop" music, Weiland reminded us that thirty-five years ago the Beatles exploded onto the music scene - and that they would be considered "pop" music but are so far away from anything that could be compared to the current representations of the term that it is unfathomable.

quick and dirty

i promise i'll write some more tomorrow. i have some stuff i want to say about the velvet revolver concert last night. i even wrote (gasp!) some of it down so i wouldn't forget.

but for now i just wanna say that i went to see sin city with the kiddo tonight. it's amazing in that it's visually overwhelming - the colours and filming are wonderful; the directing superlative; the acting top shelf; the directing superb. but sweet holy mother of god it's violent. yes it's cartoon violence but i was a little rattled. the kiddo announced it "fucking awesome". i enjoyed it and appreciate it for what it is, but man o man. shocking.

i love the way that there are little visual anchors that tie the vignettes together. i love the way that the stories and characters all sort of get tied together in the end - not in the way that things are neatly packaged with a polite little bow, but in the way that you sort of get the sense that these are people who live in within a self-contained world and who would bump into each other on the street.

but fuck it's violent, kids. not for the weak of constitution.

hello!

to new faces and old! please, if you haven't said hello yet, do so! i'm so excited to see who the folks who wander past are...

i can't talk about The New Boy... not yet. my feelings are kind of convoluted and i'm not sure about them and i'm worried about jinxing it. so maybe later?

the kiddo.. ah the kiddo... he's defiantly loyal, insufferably stubborn, well spoken and too smart for his age. he's a total ladies man (partially my fault), but has already met the girl who he figures is "the one" and treats her like a queen.

here's a classic kiddo story:

he makes these wicked compilation cds - you give him a few songs and he works out a theme and builds a great collection, then gives it a witty name and hands it back to you. my sister and i were heading out dancing for the night, and really wanted to have the one that he was working on, so were hassling him to finish it up quick. he came into the room, held out his hands in front of him like jesus to his followers and said: "LADIES... if you RUSH me you are only going to be disappointed with the results..." then turned and walked, nay, STRUTTED out of the room.

here's another:

one night a few years ago (like when the kiddo was turning 13 i think) we had dinner and a movie with his dad & his dad's girlfriend (we all get along pretty well). his dad had a few beers with his dinner and kept trying to put his arm around me. it was kind of freaking me out, cause i was with the crazy exboyfriend at the time so was HYPER sensitive to other men touching me... (the repercussions would have been astronomical had there been a witness). anyhoo, i was uncomfortable, and kept shrugging the arm off, and he'd just put it back again. after this happened a few times, the kiddo turned around (he'd been a few paces in front with one of his friends), threw his dad's arm off my shoulder and said "DON'T touch my mom" and walked between me and his dad the rest of the way.

at fifteen he went through a 'russian literature' phase and started reading dostoyevski and chekov..

the first time he ever ran a 300m hurdles he set a track record for his age group..

when he was 12, he was selected to read an original poem in front of his school. when i told a friend of mine, she exclaimed "that's so NOT FAIR!". i was puzzled and asked her to explain herself- she said that the geeky kids were supposed to be good at writing and books and stuff. it was all they had. it wasn't fair when the kids who were super good at sports got to be good at poetry too...

dude i could seriously go on for hours... he has been known to hang out with some of my adult friends just by himself, cause they think he's cool and he is capable of talking to them and participating in decent conversations. he's seriously the light of my life... a total challenge, but i wouldn't swap him for a more "manageable" kid for anything in the world, you know?

k now that i've nauseated you all.. i'll just stop for a while ok?

it makes me sad

when people just disappear... i've taken two of my links off the sidebar. one (city of death) i read sporadically at best. the other, the lovely lovely wild melissa girl, was a daily perusal. i'm sad to see her go...

such an ephemeral existance, this on line community. people wander in and out of my world with such little fanfare that sometimes i wonder if i'm just dreaming it all... think of it. the interactions we share are manifestations of pulsations of light and energy beaming around the world. you hit the 'next blog' button there at the top right of the screen and you jet instantly from vancouver to halfway 'round the world and who knows whom you will encounter? what are the conversations we have but little more than brain synapses flashing against my eyelids - little blasts of light like the kind i get when i close my eyes and rub them too hard.

maybe, if it's ok, if you visit this blog in the next couple of days.. just take a moment to say 'hi' in the comments, and maybe introduce yourself. if you prefer to stay anonymous, then that's fine too - beauty of the internet, really. i'm just curious to see who my lights are flash-bang pulsing with.

what the heck

happened to that wild melissa girl? she's gone gone gone.... melissa if you are reading, can you email me? pretty please?

behold the domesticated berry

in her natural environment - which is to say the kitchen.

i go through these 'nesty' phases, where i need to cook and clean and generally wear an apron and sweatpants and become a maniac with a mixing bowl.

now this whole thing started with me needing to change my room around which, by the way, was a project & a half. you see, i have pretty much an entire apartment worth of stuff in my room, so it took me the better part of nine hours to get it straightened out. keep in mind, of course, that i have mild OCD so there were moments when the chaos totally overwhelmed me and i had to leave the room 'cause i was on the brink of a panic attack. it was moments like that in which i spread my domesticated goodness to the kitchen...

i made a lovely thai curry with sticky rice for the kiddo and i to have for dinner last night. when it was all finished, after we had come back downstairs, he said to me "i miss the days when we used to eat all different kinds of food every day". it's hard, you see, to cook for just the two of us, because we share a kitchen with my folks. and my parents, my father in particular, are notoriously picky eaters. so... we generally just eat what's on the menu, with some slight allowances made to accomodate my allergies. anyhoo. that's a tangent.

so i finished rearranging around 9.30 last night (NINE THIRTY)... i like it, but i had a way uneasy sleep 'cause the noises are different, you know? plus i always sleep funny in a strange place. got up this morning and made coconut cinnamon scones, an apple/strawberry crisp for easter dessert, cooked a pan full of bacon for the kiddo and fed it too him with fresh baking OJ for breakfast, and could still be quite contendedly in the kitchen....

ok so

here's the thing.

i think i'm starting to really like The New Boy. this, of course, scares the shit out of me. i haven't really liked someone except for mr. m in a very very long time, and that's, of course, because of the abusive hell that was my 3.5yr long relationship with psychojeremy.

so my first reaction to 'really liking a boy' is, of course to try and blow it out of the water. so i do things like make late-night dates to "hang out" with 25yr old guys whom i've known for approximately 24 hours and who really only want to fuck for the evening. sounds healthy, huh? i have these hardcore selfdestructive tendencies that always make me mess shit up. like how when i get stressed out i automatically eat food i'm allergic to so that i get sick. but i HAVE to - it's a total compulsion. so then my face breaks out and my belly hurts and i puke my guts out.

it also worries me 'cause i tend to only like messed up guys - like emotionally unavailable men, or men who are in other relationships, or men who will treat me like crap. i never fall for the nice ones. but we'll see, right?

anyway.. i didn't go last night. and The New Boy called at 11.30 all drunk and sweet and silly and made me laugh for like 45 minutes, which is a very good thing, i think, cause i was too busy laughing to freak out in any way.

i love it

when you say these things that are intended to be all innocent and come out downright smutty. case in point, this evening i came out with "i want him to re-sugar my rim". now, i was speaking of the lovely sweet coating round the edge of my baileys-coffee cup. but man oh man does that sound hot.

maktaaq - i'm working on it...

raspberry sundae's long weekend extravaganza

ok this is my second attempt at this post. i have a tendency to rest my foot at the front of my computer and hit the 'off' button in error.

so anyhoo... i'm on day two of my four day weekend and can feel the stress melting off my back like chocolate in a fondue pot. like an icicle in the sunshine. like fat in a deep fryer. ok maybe not that one - that's kind of gross. we'll stick with chocolate and icicles.

(back on the topic, sundae, back on point) (where was i?) (oh ya)

anyhoo - i'm pretty freakin relaxed. i had to take my sister to the airport this morning so got up really really early to have her there by 5am to catch her flight back to work. my sister has been the anti-raspberry, which is to say, she's been stressed out like crazy for a day and a half. she got a call yesterday afternoon calling her back to work TODAY - her flight left at 6am. so we did a total power shop for the stuff she needed and she ran around like a crazy woman till after midnight last night. at least she's going to have this afternoon/this evening in san diego to mellow out and get a haircut/massage/manicure or something. maybe do tequila body shots off a waitress in the hotel bar. she was pretty stressed out.

the new boy went away to hang with 'his boys' for the long weekend, and so i think i'm going to take advantage of the time to feng shui my bedroom, make chocolate pistachio rolls and hang with mike b. i haven't seen NEARLY enough of michael blackman lately, and it's bumming me out. good thing i'm kind of relaxed right now, or else i'd be stressed out about it.

the bedroom thing is pressing, though. i need to do a decent spring clean - ceremoniously shake the cobwebs out of my living space and welcome the cherry blossoms and assorted flowering tree pollen in (atchoo, by the way). i need to dust and vacuum and generally re-arrange. so i think i'll get on that.

(paused there for a minute to 'select all copy' what i've written to avoid the whole reconstructing from memory thing, since i've noticed that my big toe is straying dangerously close to the 'reset' button again.. damn thing has a mind of it's own. hey, there! right foot! keep your digits in LINE, lady!)

i need to find a tape measure and figure out if my bed will fit into the alcove under the big window. i think i'd like to spend the spring/summer sleeping tucked in there. i just have to figure out if my head should point east or west (hence the feng shui)....

yum

ok so today i was given a box of dark chocolate truffles from a company called montezumas in sussex. one of their varieties has crushed red chilis on it. can i say nothing but YUM?! not to mention the fact that you can get handmade, organic, VEGAN truffles. vegan truffles - all is right with the world, my friends. all is right with the world.

thunkin'

so i was reading ken & ariel the other day, and noticed a comment which touched on the idea that there are things a guy would only do with a woman he was a 'fuck buddy' with - not one that he was thinking long term relationship with.

this puzzles me, and i'll tell you why - so if you don't want to hear me talk about sex then move on, my friend, move on. just navigate off to the more sanitary sections of the internet. might i suggest christian women for penny loafers?

the other day whilst road-trippin the new boy's roommate asked me what love was to me. i thought about how i wanted to phrase my answer for a bit (always a touchy subject in front of someone whom you've just begun dating), then said that love is being in tune with someone on every level - being able to be open and honest with a person, no matter how awful what you are about to say is, and trust that they will accept you for who you are. love is what is beyond being best friends - that deeper level of intimacy that comes through physical contact and chemistry. love is understanding that the person you are with is their own person and respecting that about them, and knowing they respect that for you.. and some other stuff too.

anyhoo.. what puzzles me about the idea that you are more adventurous sexually with someone you are 'just fucking' rather than someone you are committed to is this: if you have appetites and desires, then the person you love and want to spend your life with seems the natural choice to share them with. why would you want to commit yourself to spending a lifetime with someone that you didn't feel comfortable sharing such things with? why would you want to condemn yourself to a lifetime of sex which only touches upon the breadth of your desires?

i SO would not want to be with a man forever if he didn't feel like he could bend me over and do me six ways from sunday. i guarantee you it's a recipe for infidelity in my world. i have some dark desires - i am experimental and dirty. i want a guy who can explore all the facets of my sexuality with me, and will let me explore his with him. life's an adventure - why would you want to be with someone if you couldn't live it that way in the bedroom? or in the living room? or on the kitchen table? or in the bathroom at a real estate open house?

oops, inside voice, raspberry.... LOL

i am the least popular girl in school

i didn't get the kiddo a ticket for taste of chaos on friday. i had to wait till i got paid, then got so busy with work that i couldn't go to ticketshyster last week. when my sister went to try and pick one up today, they're all sold out. dude, i seriously fucked up - he's so mad at me he's got a belly ache. i feel fucking awful. the only way i can see to get one is to spend $95 and buy one from an overpriced website. but, of course, there's no way i can afford to spend $95 on a concert ticket right now.

i emailed the local radio station in the hopes that they know if more will be released, or maybe know of someone who's got an extra. if anyone, ANYONE knows someone who has one they'll sell me for a decent price pretty pretty please let me know. seriously - i'll do pretty much anything, at this point.

in other news, i went on a roadtrip with the new boy this weekend. it was fun... interesting... i met his family. scary as hell - i'm so committment phobic that it scares the crap out of me to contemplate the fact that i MET HIS FAMILY. how messed up is that? but if i can figure out how to get the pictures off the digital camera onto the computer i'll upload a couple of the crazy road...

word for today

comfoozled - overcome, exhausted.

yup, that's about right....

who won the oscar for best actor?

actually, you know what? it doesn't even matter, because it WASN'T don cheadle. it infuriates me on so many levels that he was overlooked for his role in hotel rwanda which i FINALLY saw last night. i grabbed onto mike's hand at one point and seriously didn't let go for the entire film. i wasn't just holding it, i was CLUTCHING it. that film messed me up - i couldn't drive home without stopping my car and sitting quietly for a while - till the shaking stopped, anyway.

go see this film. it, at varying moments, fills you with horror and shame at the things we, as humans, can do to each other; lifts you up with the displays of grace and compassion that people can exhibit, and makes you laugh from the bottom of your belly. it is the story of the human race - it has lessons to teach us, should we choose to listen. the interaction of the characters on the film's stage encapsulates the interaction of the characters on the world's stage.

you know what? i'm not doing it justice. just see it - i don't think i've ever seen a film which has had this effect on me.

it's official

i like a boy. cue the angels and harps - clouds part, heavens shine down upon us lowly mortals as we all stare in disbelief at the little raspberry girl who likes, actually LIKES a boy. and this isn't just having a work crush on one of the n's, or wanting to re-do the island boy. this is 6 dates, three sleepovers but only one (clearly the most recent) with actual sex raspberry likes a boy.

and you guys didn't even know i'd been out. how crazy is that?

watch

this please.

thank you.

random confession #27

i LOVE the movie twister. yes, helen hunt is more wooden than keanu reeves in johnny mneumonic. yes her tank top mysteriously self cleans. yes, it's really a crappy movie but i LOVE it. philip seymour hoffman cracks this skinny white ass up - sure he's reprising (preparing for?) his seminal role as lester bangs in almost famous but man he takes you on a hyperactive wacky barnburner scientist rollercoaster of a ride and i'm back in line as soon as i hit the end.

four hail marys and one repeat viewing of something arthouse as penance. damn it's good to be catholic.

never a doubt in my mind

Which Family Guy character are you?

ok i'm back

'cause i've had a couple of cocktails, you see, and so i feel like chatting. but i didn't feel like chatting with the real life people i was spending time with. not 'cause they are poor company, just 'cause i wanted to come home and play with my imaginary friends. or my computer friends. or maybe they're the same thing....

so two things happened this week which made me mad/upset/sad/frustrated.

1) two kids stole $12 worth of gas and killed the gas attendant for it. can you imagine being the 15 year old kid in the passenger seat of that car? your life is pretty much fucked - even if you don't go to jail you are going to hear buddy screaming as he was being dragged to his death across 7 kilometres of city streets every time you close your eyes for the rest of your life. it's twelve fucking dollars and a stolen car - you think you are out for some kicks and all of a sudden you killed someone. bam. dead.

2) langley just elected, as their provincial LIBERAL representative, a woman who has campaigned tirelessly to keep books with any sort of gay/lesbian theme out of school libraries. how is that, in any way shape or form, liberal? i always get confused between capital-l liberal and small-l liberal. and the difference between federal and provincial liberals confuses me, too. can anyone explain that to me, please? cause right now i'm really irritated that someone who's adopted a 'liberal' persona could agitate against gay & lesbian rights. or rather, would work to prevent people from making their OWN decisions regarding such matters.

actually, there are any number of things that happened this week which have had that same effect on me. jetsgo stranding people all over the world. people killing babies. mounties getting blown away. people being plain ol' mean to other people. i know i get weighed down by my own personal shit on occasion, but then there are weeks like this one where my crap seems so small scale when every time i open the newspaper someone is killing someone else, or cheating hardworking people out of money they probably can't afford to lose, or disrespecting the basic human right of us all to live a good life in the way that best suits us as individuals. i think if i ever met my fairy godmother, and she granted me three wishes, one of the things i'd ask for would be my own magic wand so i could go around making people just GIVE A SHIT about each other. (i'd also ask for a bottomless shoe budget and to have no food allergies, but that's beside the point.)

k, rant over. clearly i'm not ready to wean myself off blogger's teat, so you'll all just have to put up with me a while longer.

g'nite xoxo

i find myself

disenchanted with my blog. i'm not sure why - it seems as though i may be willing to let it just...slip...away. not for any reason other than it demands a certain degree of introspection and i'm sort of incapable of that at the moment. i think i'm turning into a shallow vacuous blonde. i aspire to be a trophy wife without a concrete thought in my head.

i read this screwed up statistic the other day (forgive me 'cause i don't recall where or the exact digits) that outlined how a woman lessens her chance at marriage by some stupid vast amount when she gets an education. who dreamed that fucked up bullshit? could it really be true that men would rather marry a dumb girl than a smart one? or is it just 'cause women who are busy educating themselves generally are less concerned with getting knocked up straight out of high school and tying themselves down?

there's an inflammatory statement for you - please don't take offence, gentle readers, if you are self-educated or have declined a formal post-secondary education. i didn't really mean it i'm just punchy and tired.

actually, i don't feel like myself at all. i feel as though someone has taken over my body and me, my SELF is just this little kernal of a person curled up into a matrix ball. so off i go. i may be back. i may not.

grrrrr

i'm cranky. i'm take ya out back and bitch slap you cranky. i'm stomp around in a circle kicking over sandcastles cranky. i'm flick your nose till you hit back cranky. i'm pick a fight and end relationships cranky. i'm i think i better go to bed before i get myself in trouble cranky.

tomorrow i'll tell you why i only got 3 hours of sleep on a 'school' night. if i'm not cranky, that is.

it's true.

attention!

watch this.

as you were.

anniversary

so it was a year ago today that the kiddo went into the hospital. kind of a fucked up anniversary, but it resonates regardless. i don't want to talk about it, but i do. i've been counting down all week, for some reason - i knew it was coming and i've studiosly avoided writing anything 'cause i knew that it would come out - how scared i am to go to sleep tonight, and how afraid i am that he's still all fragile on the inside even though he *seems* so much better and so much stronger and so much more together. or maybe it's just me that is fragile on the inside, still, even though i seem so much stronger and seem so much better and seem so much more together. but i guess i am those things, at least a little bit.

i love my kid more than life itself. (i just wanted to say that out loud, cause love is magic and saying the word casts a spell and takes me out of time and place and makes it not this day) and i know you are saying "of course you do - he's your son". but it sometimes amazes me that it's possible to feel something for someone in a way that is so strong and so true.

anyway, i'm gonna go crawl into bed, and leave my door open tonight. the dog will crawl in beside me and i think that i need that. goodnight, kiddo, and goodnight to all the kids, all of you out there in the world who feel that you are alone. tonight you should know that you aren't - i'm staying awake to watch over you all.

grrr

i think that whomever set this trap should be made to wear it.

happy birthday mr newly!

easy like sundae morning

so yesterday i had a 'girls' day with my mom and my sister... we did lunch at ouisi bistro and did some window shopping on upper granville. i picked up a GREAT pair of kenneth cole mary janes with pink trim and a bit of a heel. QUITE lovely, i must say. it was a really nice day - the sun was out and it was pretty warm, when you stayed out of the wind.

before i went, though, i had an interesting conversation with a friend. she had a bit too much to drink one evening last week, and admitted to her boyfriend that she loved him. he responded very honestly - he told her that he wasn't ready to say that, which is a perfectly respectable answer, as they've been seeing each other for only a few months.

my friend was freaking out a bit, worried that she may have done a very bad thing. i didn't think so - i figure that if you are feeling something you should try and be honest about it with the people you care about. but it had me thinking a bit yesterday - when is the right time? i know that it's different in every situation, but generally, how do you know when it's ok to drop the L word? (not that L word you dirty media whores). i make it a personal policy to never say it first. ya maybe that's a bit of game playing, but it's just the way i am. i'm not so trusting with my heart, you know?

and i know that, when you spend a lot of amazing time with someone, you can feel it within a couple of months. but is that too soon to say it?

are you my type?

ENFP - The Champion
Your Type is 60% Extroverted, 0% Observant, 0% Logical and 18% Structured
Your type is known as the Champion type, which is part of the larger group called idealists. Nothing occurs that does not have some deep and ethical significance in your eyes. You see life as an exciting drama. You are very charismatic, yet tend to be too harsh on yourself for not being as genuine as you think you should be. 3% of the population shares your type.
As a romantic partner, you need to talk about what is going on in your life. You are a strong supporter for your partner's efforts to grow and change and be happy. You need to feel that same support from your partner. Expressive, optimistic, and curious, you are eager to enjoy new experiences with your partner, whom you wish to be your confidant and soul mate, as well as play mate. You are uncomfortable sharing negative emotion, though, and tend to withdraw from confrontation and process your feelings privately. You feel most loved when your partner appreciates your creativity, accepts your uniqueness, and sees you as the compassionate person you are. You need to hear your partner tell you how much you mean to them and would love if they did thoughtful spontaneous things to demonstrate it.

IDEALIST NFs, being ABSTRACT in communicating and COOPERATIVE in implementing goals, can become highly skilled in DIPLOMATIC INTEGRATION. Thus their most practiced and developed intelligent operations are usually teaching and counseling (NFJ mentoring), or conferring and tutoring (NFP advocating). And they would if they could be sages in one of these forms of social development. The Idealist temperament have an instinct for interpersonal integration, learn ethics with ever increasing zeal, sometimes become diplomatic leaders, and often speak interpretively and metaphorically of the abstract world of their imagination.

They are proud of themselves in the degree they are empathic in action, respect themselves in the degree they are benevolent, and feel confident of themselves in the degree they are authentic. Idealist types search for their unique identity, hunger for deep and meaningful relationships, wish for a little romance each day, trust their intuitive feelings implicitly, aspire for profundity. This is the "Identity Seeking Personality" -- credulous about the future, mystical about the past, and their preferred time and place are the future and the pathway. Educationally they go for the humanities, avocationally for ethics, and vocationally for personnel work.

Social relationships: In their family interactions they strive for mutuality, provide spiritual intimacy for the mates, opportunity for fantasy for their children, and for themselves continuous self-renewal. Idealists do not abound, being as few as 8% and nor more than 10% of the population.

take the test

random confession #632

i squeeze the toothpaste from the middle of the tube. i can't help myself - i just like the way it feels.

suckerpunch

falling in love is messed up. or, rather, getting over being in love with someone is messed up. maybe it's easier when you don't have to see the person pretty much every day, and interact with them fairly closely a few times a week. but doing it this way is a wonderkiller* for sure.

most days mr m doesn't even blip my radar. i see him and it's no big deal. unless i see him, i don't think about him. which is the way i like it, really. i'd like to get through my days and not think about him, period.

then there are days like today when i notice that he's got a new wedding ring. i commented on the fact that i noticed and asked if he got a new wife, too. he said no, to my disappointment. frankly i'd have more respect for him if he had, but that's beside the point. it's kind of like being suckerpunched to the gut - all the bad feelings come rushing back and i'm struggling to maintain a professional demeanour. i finished our meeting, left him with some action items, and went and sat on the rock outside to collected my emotions and put my mask back on.

then, then, (and these are the days i like the best) there are moments when i'm standing on the edge of a mosh pit, surrounded by thrashing sweaty testosterone driven male bodies pushing and pounding against each other, thanking all the gods that we didn't end up together, cause i guarantee that i would be nowhere near that exact spot if we'd ended up together. see, he hated it when i went out - he was jealous and suspicious and eventually (cause i'm that kind of person) i would have just stopped going doing it 'cause *i* hate to upset the people i care about. eventually the fun part of me would be curled up into a little ball in my belly and i wouldn't even know who i was anymore - i wouldn't even like myself anymore - i wouldn't even *be* myself anymore.

but today i feel like i got suckerpunched in the stomach. the only person who's *ever* told me they wanted to marry me and take care of me forever is wearing a new wedding ring like 3 months after the last time he slept with me. so i'm going to go to bed and lie in the dark and NOT cry 'cause i won't give him that satisfaction. no, instead i'm going to close my eyes and remember what it felt like to ride the push and pull of the crowd; to hear the music pounding the walls; to feel the bass against my chest beating beating with my heart, beating my heart back to life. 'cause that's where i belong.






*i stole that term from pamie

ok so.

after my blog-o-rama of the weekend (thought i'd never shut up there for a while didn't you?) i regressed into man whore postings. i apologize to all men (*cough* ciavarro) who are offended by the rampant objectification which has occurred in these pages of late. i'd like to promise that it'll never happen again, but that'd be lying. let's face it, goshfukkit, i'm that kind of girl. the only person i can commit to is my hairdresser. seriously. i am, however, no liar, so i won't make those kind of promises.

anyhoo. i think that part of my problem is that i see things i'd like to write about, but i can't quite get them into words. well, i can get them into words but they don't communicate the image i have in my brain onto the page. i can't open my head and make you see through my eyes to experience the heart-shivers that what i am looking at is giving me. and that's really frustrating for me.

yes, i could track down a digital camera, take a photo, and post it. but i don't do that much (well except for the man-candy). i'd rather try and let my words spew forth like verbal diarrhea taking you, and me, on this wild and crazy river-run-ride. a veritable hailstorm of linguistic expression raining down like the shuddering afterquakes of a really good orgasm.

but, see, i can't do it. no matter how hard i try the words on the page can't take you through time to 6.39 this morning, when i had to park my car on the side of the road and look, just look at the way someone had taken a giant chalkbrush and swiped it across the mountains and the sky, blending them together till it was nearly impossible to discern where one ended and the other began. i can't find the words to tell you how amazing the skeleton sillhouettes of the trees looked in stark black relief against that watercolour backdrop, or how the lamp-posts had been so carefully placed between them, shining white white light down, spotlighting the empty street.

so i just have to look at the picture in my mind, and know that it will fade away just as though i'd left it on the dashboard of my car on the hot summer days when i stop to sit in the shade beneath the trees and read my book in the summer sun, read someone else's descriptions of someone else's winter morning.

speakin of humpin and bumpin

i actually used my 'real' name, cause variations of 'raspberry' just kept returning pictures of madonna... *shudders*.

Would anyone want to bang you? by phobia
Name:
Favorite Food:
Wants to Bang you:
This many times:	10
Quiz created with MemeGen!

i'm ok with this...

Your Husband Generator by Lady_Galadriel
Name
Your Husband Is
You Met	at a pub
You Have	0 children
You Live	africa
In	an expensive studio flat
You And Your Partner Are Best Known For	your wild sex romps anywhere and everywhere
Quiz created with MemeGen!

the great gonzo

february 20, 2005

we'll miss you.

humpin and bumpin

ok i realize this is my third fourth post for today, but i'd really like to point you in the direction of this article. i know that, what with my boy whore photo postings and my internet quiz addiction it's sometimes hard to remember that i have a brain. but i do. no, seriously, i do. stop laughing. seriously.

anyhoo, at the beginning of the article, the author says something which cracked me up to the point at which i had to put my laptop down and wipe the tears from my eyes. he wrote, quoting christoper marlowe:

"Christopher Marlowe describes Leander entering

the orchard of th’ Hesperides,
Whose fruit none rightly can describe but he
That pulls or shakes it from the golden tree.

Which is simply Elizabethan for foreplay. Some Elizabethan lines that translate to “humpin’ and bumpin’ ” follow."

humpin' and bumpin'. shit i'm off again. k i'm done. anyhoo... read the article - it's witty and literate and funny and interesting. all the things that non-fiction should be. and he talks about his pecs and his mediterranean tan. and humpin and bumpin. that's it.

on sunny afternoons and the proliferation of the word 'random'

cheez it, it's the fuzz
ok so i decided to go out for lunch today. it's vancouver - it's sunny. i think there's a law about finding a cafe to sit at pretending to read while peering at passers-by through your extra dark dkny sunglasses. or is that just in my world. so i did that, anyway, 'cause goshfukkit* i've got enough trouble without getting in deep with the law. i go to this cafe on main street all the time - liberty - and order the same thing, all the time - sundried tomato hummus panini with a small black bean soup and a coffee - and sat and read my book and watched the passersby. except this time i wasn't so much watching as i was really reading, 'cause i'm indulging in a Charles deLint book. it's a book i've actually already finished, but cDl writes about this town called newford, and the people who live there. and, secretly, i want to live there. i want to be sucked into the book and live in newford and hang out with the characters 'cause i'm pretty sure that it's my perfect world.

(except now, as i'm reading the book, i'm realizing that there is a character/situation that is cribbed so directly from nick hornby's high fidelity that it kind of bothers me. but i'm willing to overlook this, just as i will forgive guy ritchie for making 'swept away' as long as he never lets mags be in another one of his movies.)

ANYhoo... (and this is me making lassooing motions to signify the fact that i am coming back 'round to my original thought) as i was sitting there on main street in vancouver reading about newford it occurred to me that the reason i migrate to areas like main street is 'cause i'm looking for newford, or the closest approximation of it to be found here. and i don't think i'm going to find it in vancouver - people here tend to isolate themselves from the strangers they pass everyday. you can tell 'cause everyone is sitting all by themselves at tables built for two, peering at passersby from behind too-dark dkny sunglasses, rather than plonking themselves down in the empty chair at the nearest table built for two which is occupied already by someone on their own. (i don't recommend sitting down at a table occupied by a couple - jealousy and other mayhem on occasion ensues.) so i'm not going to find newford, but i am going to eat yummy panini and drink good coffee and get some vitamin d. and i think i'm ok with that, as long as cDl keeps writing books.

random
so the second thing that was bouncing around in my brain is the current use of the word random as an adjective to signify anything unexpected or out of the ordinary. it's surely a good word (though without the style and panache of 'goshfukkit'), but i'm a little concerned by the misuse/overuse (i'm thinking back to the 'ironic' debacle of the early alanis days and shuddering here. hold me.). i think that it's time to move on from the expression. but that's also just me - and i'm not the word police, though i am on the payroll as an informer. so watch it - i'm watching you.

i also suggest the retirement of all tshirts and other references that pertain to napoleon dynamite, including vote for pedro tshirts. no i haven't seen it yet. yes, i acknowledge that you have more indie movie cred than i do. no i'm not too dismayed by this. burn the shirt and get over yourself, indie movie snob. yes i said movie rather than film. sue me.

now that was random.


*please note the use of my new favourite swear word. it was invented by maktaaq.

thinkin

wild melissa wrote this:

This is certainly not the way I cook. I cook the way I used to exercise---no distractions except maybe the radio, mind as blank as I can get it. And I like to do things kind of slowly, no rushing around. And I like to follow directions for the most part, particularly if I am making something new, but be able to get creative if I feel like it. And I like to have a big glass of wine, and maybe a second glass if there is any Down Time like something being in the oven. And I don’t want any help. However this does change once in a while because of my frantic schedule, and instead of calmly slicing up vegetables and drinking my lovely glass of wine I end up frantically mixing up oatmeal with a swizzle stick and sharing a plate of cream cheese/grape jelly Wheat Thins with my children.

you should read her more often. she's good.

she is comparing her way of cooking to jamie oliver. now, i would not, personally, compare myself to jamie oliver 'cause, quite frankly, i'm a little in awe of the man. i'd like to bear his love children, except i'm not having any more children and the kiddo quite enjoys being an only child (such luxuries allow me to entertain the thought of buying him an ipod shuffler just because, and he knows this. as well, he's quite content knowing that he'll probably get everything on his christmas list 'cause he's the only son/grandson. were there more children he'd have to share and he's not so pleased with that idea.) either way, if jamie oliver came by and asked me to bear his love children i'd have to seriously consider revoking his independent nation status and creating our own little un. actually, better yet, i'd just tell mr. oliver that i'd bear the love children, take the potato mashin, cheeky custard, banged flat chicken lovin' and secretly take anti-childbearing measures. not the best way to begin a relationship but seriously, now, all i'm looking for is a one night confection saturated thrill, not a committment here jamie and don't you think you are getting ahead of yourself a little? we just met. sheesh.

but i digress.

i think i cook more like jamie than like melissa, though i fully embrace the idea of eating crackers and jam with a large glass of wine for dinner. just the other night i had half a peanut butter cookie, two muscle relaxants and a shot of stoli. good times. i didn't share the vodka with the kiddo though. i mean, seriously now, i'll buy him an ipod but stay the fuck away from my stoli i mean it.

ok i just said i wasn't gonna compare myself to jamie, but then he got all uppity about me lying to him regarding children and committent and shit so i'm gonna do it anyway. i cook more the way he does than melissa 'cause i can't detach - i put myself right into cooking and feel it at my core. i believe that you should cook with your hands. fuck spoons - get your fingers in the bowl and feel the mix of the dough. squeeze the little beads of flour and butter and sugar between your fingertips, gently gently, maybe with a little more force. give them a squeeze and a bit of a tug - fire the elements together with the heat of your touch 'till you don't recognize the living breathing creature in front of you anymore. knead the dough; stroke it and ply it under the strength of your hands. give it a little slap and feel it quiver. not too hard though 'else it will turn on you - turn tough and give you a hard stare refusing to wield to your charms. just hard enough - you know what i mean - just hard enough to hurt but not *hurt*. no longer are you faced with a cool detached entity - the heat of your touch has melted it beneath your gaze into a languidly smooth expanse rising rising to a peak of pleasure. it's the heat and the chemistry and the fire. magic.

so anyway, i think that, in the kitchen, i'm more like jamie than melissa, though in most other ways i'm more like melissa than jamie. and i'm sorry jamie, for lying to you. call me, k? we can make some more custard and spoon.

goin' to hell in a handbasket

The Dante's Inferno Test has banished you to the Seventh Level of Hell!


Here is how you matched up against all the levels:

Level	Score
Purgatory (Repenting Believers)	Very Low
Level 1 - Limbo (Virtuous Non-Believers)	Low
Level 2 (Lustful)	Very High
Level 3 (Gluttonous)	Moderate
Level 4 (Prodigal and Avaricious)	Low
Level 5 (Wrathful and Gloomy)	Moderate
Level 6 - The City of Dis (Heretics)	High
Level 7 (Violent)	Extreme
Level 8- the Malebolge (Fraudulent, Malicious, Panderers)	High
Level 9 - Cocytus (Treacherous)	High

Take the Dante's Divine Comedy Inferno Test

a revision?

you know, i left freddie ljungberg off the list, and now i'm wondering if i should put him back...

the list - february 2005

1) dave grohl. always and forever
2) johnny depp
3) jude law
4) jack johnson
5) joaquin phoenix

and the bottom five, in no particular order:
- ewan macgregor
- eminem
- vin diesel (i'm gonna pretend that kids movie isn't happening)
- jason statham
- the guy from disturbed

the perfect man

i think i need this man.





he's sensitive, can play the guitar, used to be a surfer, and is bleeding hot. smoking hot. he's on the list. so... if you know jack johnson, or if you are jack johnson, please contact me at raspberry sundae

oh this is so perfect you have no idea....

Toxic by Britney Spears

"It's getting late To give you up I took a sip From my devil cup Slowly It's taking over me " Ah, what's a year without breaking a few hearts? Literally.

What 2004 Hit Song Are You?

so far

my valentines date this year was, as aforementioned, my little brother. he's going to uni at the same school i did, so is here in van for a couple of weeks a year. during his last visit (christmas) he picked up a cd of ted leo, and discovered that they were set to play while he was off on reading break.

anyhoo.... we went and it was fun. done.

what is interesting to me is how i'm so much *different* around my brother. well, around lots of people - i have these different personalities, and i'm fascinated by who gets to see what aspect of me. the last time i was out for dinner with maktaaq she noticed how animated i was - i think that's pretty close to who i am, especially lately. i mean, the introspective quiet stuff is me, too. but there are some people who really ONLY get to see that side. it takes a while to get to the giddy, laughing my butt off acting silly stuff. the other side of it is this - on saturday night, i went to a work function. now, the people i work with do, on occasion, see the giddy side of me (well, some of them anyway). however, on saturday night, it was completely hidden from view. (of course i was VERY TIRED, but still).

ahh i dunno where i'm going with this. i guess it's just interesting to me how you choose to expose aspects of yourself to the different people in your life - even people who are your family may not see all of who you really are.

lime and i were talking about a tangent of this topic when i was on the island recently - people of our generation (gen x or whatever) grew up with this image of what the "perfect" family should be - we grew up with the remnants of the nuclear family resonating in popular culture and so have this ingrained sense of what family is. we all know that it's a myth (probably one of the grand myths of the 20th century) but still it's hardwired into our psyches as something to seek. i honestly think rave culture is an outpouring of this - the basic essence of rave culture is coming together in a community united by the desire to look after each other, to love each other, and to be 'as one' spiritually. (this is what separates it from most other subcultures). there's the getting fucked out of your head on psychedelics and dancing your asses off as well but at the heart is this desire to be one with each other and with the world.

check current popular culture - most films reflecting 'young' people (twenties / thirties style) enact the group of friends as the urban family - much has been said about this in popular news articles and the like. we are looking for that sense of family. we are the first generation to have a large number of our members raised by single parents. we are the first generation to have households in which both parents worked as the majority. we are (perhaps) the first generation* to recognize that family is a construct and therefore, like any construct, can be deconstructed and remade. we are the first generation to recognize that family can be chosen: "Maybe that's all family really is. A group of people who miss the same imaginary place." (zach braff in garden state).

but here's my question to you: are we now creating this construct of the 'urban' family - this tight group of friends who are here for you through thick and thin? are we just transferring our desire for family and community from the families we really have onto other people? or is the 'urban' family a more attainable myth?

* i recognize that this statement is problematic. you could dispute me (i'm thinking of john glassco's memoirs of montparnasse, and his descriptions of his contrasting relationships with his family and friends).

through the looking glass

so one of the only things i took out of my relationship with my crazyexboyfriend (aside from a low self esteem, baggage of varying sizes and a taste for rough sex) is this great mirror that was custom cut for him. i just noticed that, while sitting in the vintage shampoo chair (oops there's another thing) i can see reflected in this mirror, the far corner of my bedroom. i'm sitting her looking at it and it's this lovely little vignette of tranquility - the wall is sage green, as is the bedding. the lamp hanging from the ceiling is this rust coloured silk. there is a print of egon shiele's sunflowers on the wall and my lovely lovely valentines flowers on the bedside table. the pillows are kind of rumpled (i just crawled out of it) and look really inviting... if it weren't for my evening out i'd slide between the sheets and lie back and think about the world... well till i fell asleep anyway.

the day

so for valentine's two years ago, i cooked dinner and drank WAY too much with dj monte. he's one of the better people to spend the day with - handsome, articulate, chivalrous, and horny as all get out.

last year is the happy happy valentine's day in which i met lemo-licious (happy anniversary, darling!). i drank way way too much and smooched with her in a restaurant, much to the delight of both mike b and our server.

this year, i had to work. mind i got to kiss N2 and the cute web boy; had a mid-afternoon naughty msn chat with the porn star; i got a fun happy val-day phone call from sean; and AND i received a bouquet of mystery flowers. i LOVE mystery presents... and the flowers have the added bonus of being the kind of item that get gossiped about all over the office, therefore it's pretty much guaranteed that mr. m found out. which, i'm pretty sure (since i have ascertained who sent them) was at least part of the point. plus tonight i'm heading off to see ted leo with my younger brother, so an evening in front of the telly with a bucket of haagen dans is out of the question. fun!

so, all in all, despite my singlehood for the third year running, i've had a wonderful valentines day - the sun was shining, chocolates were consumed, flowers were sniffed, boys were kissed, and music is about to be enjoyed. can't go wrong with that.

happy valentine's day, lovelies

"i had no idea you were so *dirty*!"

so i've had a busy couple of evenings, kids. on thursday night i went to drink wine and have some dinner with an old friend. and, of course, by old friend i mean someone i used to sleep with. now here's the kicker with this guy - you may recall me mentioning a weekend where i went to the island and ran into someone from my past at a club while out with the lemon. well, this would be the guy. i guess he's left his wife and is looking for a place to buy here in lotusland. interesting. ANYhoo... he picked me up thursday evening and we went to this dark little place in kits and drank wine and ate chocolate raspberry cake (OH MY GOD this was good - that's all i can say about that). at about 12.30 i looked at my watch and had a brief moment of "I HAVE TO GET UP IN 5 HOURS" and went home to bed. yes by myself (though no one believed me when i said that).

last night was the evening of my sister's infamous dinner party, in which she invited a bunch of her friends over and i got to cook. actually i really like cooking, and i don't get to do it often enough, so i was delighted to do it. though, for a few moments, it looked like we were going to have 14 people and i had a bit of a panic attack 'cause i was pretty sure we didn't have enough food - though i could have figured something out. after i got off work, i picked her and her friend up at the pub down the road from her condo. they'd been drinking since 11am and so were feeling quite amicable. lately, i've had some pretty irrepressible good cheer, i was a little overtired, had snuck out of work a half an hour early, and it was a GORGEOUS afternoon, so i was in the same state of mind fairly naturally. now, part of the way i interact with my good friends, especially when we are out, has a deep level of sexy play to it. i just naturally fall into that - it's kind of part of who i am. at one point, my sister's friend (who is the boyfriend of one of her best friends) looked at me and said "i had no idea you were so DIRTY!" to which i just laughed. of COURSE i am. then he said he was a little afraid of me... which didn't, however, stop him from spraying whipped cream down my pants. hmph. i hope he didn't actually take me seriously. 'cause god knows you can't take me seriously....

busted

sure sign that mike b doesn't read the blog - last night, when i said something about the whole 'breaking the vow' incident of this past weekend, he was shocked. then he out-ed me to my sister, who claimed she knew all along, even though i'd been trying to "hide" it. this rather confused me, 'cause i haven't actually been hiding it, i just failed to announce it when i returned home (well, aside from here anyway). hmph.

ohhh i got presents in the mail yesterday... well one wasn't a present - it was a little flower that i'd been wearing in my hair last saturday, and which failed to make it home from W49's place. he mailed it back to me with a little note saying he'd like to hang out next time he's in van.

and and and! the 'disco biscuits' cd returned from across the pond, accompanied by a disk full of photos and some yummy dark chocolate (the first of which i ate last night as i sat here shortly after midnight, drunk on red wine for the second night in a row). i am such a lucky sundae...

was there ever any doubt?

You are creative, complicated and flirty, although perhaps a bit disorganized and unpredictable! You're a great example of a 'melt-in-your-mouth' personality wrapped up in a colorful package!

the original oc (with apologies to ice-t)

I’m rollin’ up in a little blue coupe,
I’m belted in, i know the scoop.
The minute I arrived some hottie got kissed
Blinked 10 times 'fore he knew what he missed.
Word in the club was i'm no regular tart
And without hesitatin’ I started breakin' some hearts.
Found a sharp lookin' man who knew some grooves
So i walked on over - time to show him my moves.

Our first slow dance the whole feelin’ was hot
It wasn’t quite my style but i gave it a shot.
Then I stalked away and I threw him a look
The boy was stunned - he'd fully bought the book.
He thought he'd get play, but it wasn't to be -
Y'see I can't be tamed - I'm the Original O.C.

oh i'm giggling like a schoolgirl, here

i called him. i left a message. he called me back 5 minutes later. we talked for half an hour. he asked me to add him to my msn contacts so we can chat. he will be coming to vancouver to hang out in a couple of weeks - he wants to seeeee mmeeeeeeeee.

hee hee hee hee hee hee hee hee.

the public life

so in the last week, two people from my sidebar have quit blogging because of nasty commenters - jenny good and greg the boyfriend.

when we listen to music, or read people's words, we often feel an affinity with them - almost like we know them in some way. maybe they express perfectly an emotion that we cannot put into words. perhaps they sing about feeling, a longing that we thought was the private emotional hell of us alone - hearing about it from them makes us feel as though we are connected somehow. when we see characters in sitcoms over and over it's almost as though we know them, too.

the thing is, we project some of our longings and needs onto these people - the image we have of them is not who they really are. it's an imaginary construction made up of a creative expression combined with a figment of our imagination. they cannot possibly live up to what we imagine them to be. who could?

blogging is kind of the same thing, except maybe at a heightened degree - when i regularly read personal writings again and again, it is easy to forget that i am only seeing a portion of who that person is - i am only seeing what they are allowing me to see. i cannot expect them to be exactly who they portray themselves as when they choose to share some thoughts and feelings and a taste of their creativity with me twice weekly, or daily, or monthly, or whatever.

the difference, though, between me blogging and a recognizable celebrity blogging is that the malicious commenters who plagued me earlier this year probably can't recognize me on the street. i don't have to worry about running into someone who may have taken offense by something i've said.

(however, there is always the chance that someone who DOES know me in real life will come across this, make the connection, and use my thoughts, feelings and ideas against me, as someone recently did to lemon.)

while maktaaq has been frustrated and irritated and probably a little hurt by the crazy person who sent her 2000 emails because she disagreed with an opinion, she doesn't have to fear a face-to-face confrontation.

jenny good (wife of matt good) does, though. someone objected to a post she made and sent letters to amnesty international attacking matthew good. so, the only real response she could make was to shut down her blog.

greg the boyfriend ran into someone who read his blog regularly. he dared to be unfriendly to this perfect stranger - and because that person had projected their expectations of his personality onto him, they proceeded to attack him when he didn't live up to their imaginary construction of who they figured he SHOULD be. so, he shut down his blog.

i know there are a lot of crazies out there. and, unfortunately, lots of them spend a lot of time on the 'net. these lonely, socially challenged people or "trolls" as they are sometimes called, cruise around blogs, websites, and bulletin boards and like nothing better than to anonymously attack people, hurt people and see what damage they can do before moving on.

it seriously sucks. i think that i've managed to make some good friends through my blog - friends that i've met and friends that i will never meet, but friends nonetheless. i acknowledge the fact that someday the stupid commenters will come back and probably go for my throat again. at that point, i may shut it down, or go underground like lots of people are doing. but, until that day (or the day that sitting here a few times a week no longer brings me the joy it does now), i'll keep writing. and hopefully someone will keep reading :)

tuesdae's horoscope

"Beginnings are in the air -- in your case, most especially with regard to relationships. Fortunately, romance just so happens to be your undisputed specialty. Talk about timing! Obviously, the universe is pleased with your plans."

i love it when a plan comes together...

(lol)

to phone or not to phone?

ok here's the second part of the story.

kids, i got no follow through. i'm super good at the "wandering through the club, picking a random strange boy to make out with then abandoning him erect and frustrated on the dancefloor" thing, but not so hot with the actually sealing the deal thing. i can't quite figure out why - i think it has to do with my remarkable apathy and the fact that i'd way rather go home with my friends, wake up where i'm supposed to and go out for breakfast to laugh at myself.

well, there is also the fact that i SERIOUSLY distrust my own taste in men.

this one i noticed mostly 'cause he was cute and looked way different than the other men in that bar - i.e. he wasn't slimy, wasn't 40, and didn't qualify for the "real or fake?" game i was playing with people's hairstyles (swear to GOD donald trump's stylist did a free session in victoria on saturday afternoon). so i'm parched, and there's a big crowd at the bar. the lem hits the line for a glass of water. i see (shit what to call this one? ah yes - west49) right up at the bar. i put my hand on his shoulder and let it rest there till he turns around. "can you do me a monumental favour?" i ask. "ok" he replies. "could you get me a glass of water?" so he turns back to the bar and gets a pint glass full of ice water from the bartender. he hands it to me, i smile, and kiss him just at the corner of his mouth - not actually touching his lips, but almost - almost. that is, close enough to pique his interest, but not so close that it was creepy, too agressive, or couldn't be passed off as friendly if his previously unseen girlfriend came roaring out of a crevice with a banshee scream and a battleaxe. then i walked away.

anyhoo, long story short, after a while he came over and introduced himself, we went back to his place, etc etc. thing is, i actually followed through. now i'm not sure what to do. one of my guy friends asked me if i feel guilty about doing it. lots of girls would, he figures, but i sure don't. i'm just always super unsure of what the next step should be, you know? he gave me his number - should i call? he lives in a different city, but that's not the hugest deal in the world. he seemed really... nice. (he tried to get me to stay over, and wanted to give me vitamins (do i look malnourished?)). but then, i guess he was trying to get laid, huh? ah well - i'm sure this little piece of paper will sit on my desk for about a month, then it'll migrate to my little basket of odds and ends and phone numbers, then in about six months i'll be cleaning out the basket and wonder who the heck west49 is, anyway.

ripped from the headlines

well, actually, stolen from the amateur gourmet. weirdly enough, this has nothing to do with food...

1) What is the total amount of music files on your computer?

1 gig or so. i just got a new (well, new to me) computer and so i moved all of my music files from my OLD computer onto my laptop and haven't shifted them back yet. so, i'm a little low. i imagine my laptop has TONNES.

2) The CD you last bought?

kasabian ok if you like old school factory records era brit stuff, check these guys out - clubfoot is the happy mondays crossed with the stone roses and fun fun fun:

Friends, take control of me
Stalking cross' the gallery
All these pills got to operate
The colour quits and all invade us
There it goes again
Take me to the edge again
All I got is a dirty trick
I'm chasin down all walls to save ya

I tell you I want you
I'll tell you I need you
I... the blood ain't on my face
Just wanted you near me

3) What was the last song you listened to before reading this message?

thinking about the lyrics to clubfoot(above) made me want to hear the song, so i'm listening to it now.

4) Write down 5 songs you often listen to or that mean a lot to you.

a) "digital bath" - the deftones. seriously, this song moves me, fills me with such longing i can't bear it some days.

b) "the outsider" - a perfect circle. this song makes me think of driving in the dark to visit the kiddo in the hospital last year. it kind of reflects some of the anger i felt at the time, and how i *just didn't understand*, you know? so listening to it makes me feel these conflicting things - but it's SO powerful: "what'll it take to get through to you precious / Over this. Why you wanna throw it away like this / Such a mess. I don't want to watch you / disconnect and self destruct one bullet it at a time / what's your rush now everyone will have his day to die"

c) "risingson" or "angel" - massive attack. "mezzanine" is one of my all time favourite albums. the first two tracks are everything that is great about the album encapsulated into 7 or so minutes. angel really makes me think of my crazyexboyfriend, but for good reasons. plus it's so DARK - they use it in snatch when the gangsters are burning the trailer down with the woman trapped inside.

d) "how soon is now" - the smiths. that would be my highschool experience - period. come to think of it, it's kind of my thirties, too lol.

e) "everlong (acoustic)" - the foo fighters. the first time i heard this version of this song, i literally cried. i just love it that much.

5) Who are you going to pass this stick to (3 persons) and why?

3 people? heck! i'm passing it on to EVERYONE!

explanation

ok so here it is:

the theory behind the celibacy is this.

two haircuts ago, my hairdresser looked at me in the mirror and said "i'm not trying to hit on you or anything, but you are really *sexy*". i laughed out loud and asked her to elaborate. she said "you just sort of exude it. you can tell that you really like sex."

as part of my since-new-year-thinks, part of me wonders if maybe that's how people see me - that the sexy is all that i am. does that make sense? like i am sexy - i obviously like sex - so that becomes the sum of my personality - no need to look any deeper. these are thoughts i've explored before - no new territory here. what was new, however was my half assed decision to see if maybe, just maybe, i STOPPED having sex if people would want to see me as more, if people would look deeper than the sexy.

"there are girls you sleep with and girls you marry"
"that's not who you are - you're just the fuck"

we're back to the ugly stepsister thing again, maybe. i don't know. you don't have to be UGLY to be the ugly stepsister. you just have to know that you ain't gonna get the prince. and maybe that's ok. maybe knowing that you will end up living alone with the cats is ok, as long as along the way you got to make out with all of the knights and *not* turn into a pumpkin at midnight - instead you stayed out till 6am dancing and laughing and drinking and talking, and then were locked out of the castle and had to go sneaking around the yard giggling giggling looking for the spare key hoping hoping the dog doesn't bark and wake up the night watchmen.

s'ok - i fucked up the celibacy thing anyway. oops, slipsies. he sure was cute, though. nice, too - which is rare for me. maybe celibacy was good for me, after all :-).

oopsy daisy

well, vows are meant to be broken aren't they?

*blushes*

oh hey

did i mention that the other day my crazy exboyfriend called?

the kiddo screened him. i was asleep apparently.

psycho-jeremy "uh hey, is sundae there?"
kiddo "oh no, actually. sorry she's not".
psycho-jeremy "oh ok could you tell.."
kiddo (interrupting) "ya sure" CLICK.

WAIT!

i changed my mind! i want THIS apron!

no actually i want both!

the kiddo

is making me a party cd. i've picked a few groovy tunes that i enjoy and he's gonna put 'em together with a bunch of others in some kind of mix tape magic. he's good at that - fans of the 'disco biscuits' compilation know his work and have done the car-chair bum wiggle more than once. (you know who you are, you crazy kids).

speaking of disco biscuits - that cd took an impromptu holiday in mr. newly's laptop. i guess that makes it an international hit, huh?

the other day i was reading another blogger talking about how she couldn't smoke pot 'cause she's OCD and it makes her crazy. the only time it doesn't is when she's high on e - it was really funny to read 'cause the whole time she's describing her crazyness i'm like "oh me too!" "oh me too!". and a bunch of other people commented and were like "oh me too!". so maybe all bloggers are ocd or maybe just the ones who read that blog. or maybe nobody is and i'm not ocd but completely delusional. entirely possible.

ANYhoo. i bring this up 'cause i think my ocd is getting worse as i get older. for example - my bathroom drawers have not been the bestest shining examples of organization (i mean, who's are?) but they were divided into hair products and makeup products and sorted vaguely according to a system which made sense only to me. lately, though, this has been driving me INSANE. every morning when i open the drawers and look in and KNOW that they are organized (but only loosely and only i can tell and lately it hasn't been that clear even to me even to me) i have been barely able to contain myself from ripping them off their tracks, dumping their contents out onto the floor and sorting all morning. good for the soul, not so good for the employment status.

now, the other day when i was at ikea with my sister (yay! sister!) i discovered these great DRAWER organizers. i fairly plotzed with excitement (did i mention i went to see meet the fockers? how fabu is babs?). i picked up the organizers. i carried them around. i showed them to my sister. i eyed up their measurements and closed my eyes envisioning the gaping maw that is my own personal pit of disorganzed hell. i showed them to my sister again ("yes, yes, i KNOW. DRAWER organizers." said patiently, eyes rolling a little when she thinks i'm not looking). i carried them some more. i gazed upon them as i sat waiting for her to pick out a bedframe. i showed them to her again. and finally, finally, i purchased them.

i brought them home. i emptied my drawers (one at a time - can't have the contents comingling. that would be CHAOS). i put the organizers into the drawers (look at that snug fit! like a bug in a rug! (who thought UP that expression?)) i replaced the contents of the drawers. look! look! makeup sorted by the facial feature it is intended to be used on! and wait! what's this?! could it be?! YES! the eye shadows ARE sub-sorted by brand, colour palette and frequency of use!

yes, i'm a geek.

check this, please

ok hun has a link on her page where you can send mail and packages to us troops in iraq. now, i'm not a big supporter of george double u and his little war, however, that has nothing to do with the men and the women who are there to fight it. they're in a crappy place doing a crappy job. they deserve our support and sympathy - go check it out if you'd like. i think it's a great idea.

now, they welcome letters from all over god's green place so nationality isn't an issue. HOWEVER, if you are canadian bacon and would prefer to send a little note to a member of the canadian armed forces, you can find out all the info here. you can't send a sealed package without a specific name and address, but you can send a postcard style greeting to 'any soldier' and it'll get into the hands of someone who's maybe a little homesick. and there's a message board that you can post to, as well.

remember - 2005 is about reaching out, kids.

new links y'all

ok i've added some new stuff to the sidebar. i do believe they are worth checking out, or else i wouldn't have put them there. duh.

most notably is one soapy goldfish. he just cracked me up for at least six seconds - quite the accomplishment today, let me tell you.

who knows...

who my last quotation was from?

("if i exorcise my demons, well my angels may leave too. when they leave they're so hard to find.")

anybody?

still alive, barely

ok so i have had, for the past couple of days, what my dear friend lem-o-lish so delicately refers to as 'the utes'. and, if you check out the swizz-miss's domain, she is similarly afflicted.

i have a doctor's appointment in about a week and a half - i am going to try and make them fix me. i've been going back twice a year and saying "this is wrong. why does it do this?" and twice a year they perform the same tests and come back with no results and no answers. this time i'm not going to say "this is wrong. why does it do this?". i'm going to say "this is fucking wrong and i keep asking you the same thing over and over and you never give me a god damned answer and it's time to fucking answer or send me to a specialist who can, for christ's sake!"

anyhoo. rant done.

i've been, in my efforts to look after myself better, very good about eating healthy and eating low fat and not eating anything i'm allergic to. usually my diet is varied enough and interesting enough that i don't feel *deprived* in any way. today, though, i feel deprived. i think it's a combination of the utes and working really closely with mr. m on a project for the last couple of days (we won't get into my pathological need to do a better-than-excellent job and win his approval) but i feel... lacking. deprived - of human contact, of fun food, of something. and it's not like i haven't had a delightful social schedule the last couple of days - i spent most of sunday/monday with my sister (yay! sister!), had a thoroughly enjoyable meal with maktaaq last night, and had nice early morning chats with newly and lemon-love-of-my-life today. the raspberry just isn't feeling her perky self, kids. she needs a little love.

plus, now i feel sort of guilty 'cause, as i've been sitting here writing this, i've consumed half of a dark chocolate lindt wafer bar - one of the big ones, too. hmpfh.