Tuesday, May 31, 2005

...the blog and I broke up...

It was bound to be coming, I saw it miles off - but I'm breaking for a little while as everything else gets sorted.

Before I hiatus though, I will tell you it is all for the good. I have a great job, a great apartment, a great temp-job with great crazy people and a phone, a great volunteer placement, and a great ... boyfriend. Huh, would you look at that. It took us long enough, but here we are finally doing this and, oh man.

So I need to be running around living this life instead of writing it, therefore don't look for me as much. I will be here, just less so.

Think great thoughts, do great things, and have a greeeeaat day.

Sunday, May 29, 2005

...pretend all the good things are for you...

Well now.

Everything is moved out and my room is empty. I have 3 hours before needing to be on Queen Street, and too many heavy thoughts without other things to distract me. Having lunch with a Janetina in a little bit, that will be half hour of occupation. Needing more, needing more!

Maybe I'll go to Yorkdale and visit Sephora. Could be.

I'm trying not to let this freak me out, but I'm a little freaked. I'm tightrope walking through weeks of anticipation for something very tenuous and very very weak. I've determined to sit still and do nothing, even if it means sitting on my hands to stop them typing/calling/shaking. Doing nothing until I've been given cues to follow - no more blind fumbling through someone else's head.

Tomorrow is teaching, the next day is a test. There is enough material to keep me distracted for the next couple of days, but beyond that, I got nothing.

However way we look at this, I got nothing.

Saturday, May 28, 2005

..mazola margaine...

My room is so empty.

Moving is only exciting after the fact. I hate packing, it gets lonely and bare. And also, dusty.

...mise en scene de Michael Curtiz...

In 7 minutes it isn't even going to be morning anymore officially.

This means something, but I'm not allowed to say because the idea is I'm supposed to be being zen about this whole thing.

Zen's never been my best though. Growing up is an ordeal. Honest maturity can only do so much.

...no midnight traveling...

An hour ago the plan was patience, but impulsive happened instead and I'm either so brave, or really dumb. I guess the thing now is to wait and see. My money is on brave. (Please).

I'm exhausted but have mad packing to do. Quelle desastre. Two days until moving.

Friday, May 27, 2005

...chopin resurrected...

Today was nausea. Actually, not exclusive to today. Yesterday was nausea too, as was Wednesday. Clearly this is emotive.

A customer wanted to kiss me, and Dan played Metric for my amusement. By amusement, I really mean I was sad and this was to cheer me up. I was cheered. My phone is empty, as is any other means to get in touch with me.

Which could mean any number of things, good or bad. Tomorrow I will call, because it is late now and I'm not good enough at the whole boycalling thing to call on a Friday night when he could be at home asleep but just as easily could be out having a gay old time with many people, and a call would just be... not wanted. So to be safe, tomorrow. But my thoughts will be occupied in their entirety until then.

Queen of overanalysis, is me. Someone please stop me.

But seriously, what a waste of black socks with kissy lips on them.

...halfway between your house...

My insides were doing cartwheels, my nervous system was holding shouting matches from one end of my body to the other. Everyone was loud inside, everyone was full and busy and manic and manic. Even still, yesterday was externally one of the most silent days I can remember. I was overwhelmed into speechlessness, leaving my thoughts to work themselves out.

Around 9 I started talking. I told Iman everything, everything. Almost as happy for me as I am for myself, she understands my fear but attributes it falsely. It isn't me being pessimistic, it's me being real. Fear is real: fear of real commitment, of nomakebelieving, of repeat horribles. Taking a page out of Goldie Hawn's book, I'm not kidding myself. Happy but hesitant, I know maybe he'll decide to back out, maybe.

The biggest moments of my life have been marked by running scared. For the first time here, I'm not the one having the massive internal debates, and my fear is only a function of his. I know I want this, I know I want this. I mean honestly, on a clear night with torn coasters talking of 1979, mid-February a lifetime ago not even anticipating or dreaming of this week's reality, I knew I wanted this.

Thursday, May 26, 2005

...with these things there's no telling...

Last night I wanted to scream and shout to the world, everyone was asleep - Thommasina the Raccoon's baby got stuck in a hole and Kristen attempted a rescue operation at 5:30 a.m. I heard the commotion and came out, not to help, but to tell people my news because I would have exploded from the inside otherwise. Bursting with nervous energy, I still had to take a walk in the middle of the night. The sunrise was gorgeous this morning.

Such a build up, such such such - and suddenly to have arrived, is odd even though I knew it would come. And no one understands the significance of this morning. I mean, the whole world changed, how can everyone still be sleeping? Why doesn't everyone just *know*?

I feel like some great romantic figure from our times should be calling me to acknowledge this momentous occasion. Maybe even Kevin Costner, if it comes to that - "Ma'am I just want to acknowledge the importance of this night. Thank you for sticking to your heart, we are all better off for your determination". I would forgive his California accent just this once, because he got it.

Just don't get nervous, don't think too much. Don't break. Hearts, resolves... don't break any.

nerds

For all the beautiful people who have expressed worry about me the past few days, especially my lovely British ladies, fear not - because as awful as the week began, it has ended on the highest note in the past 5 months. I am shaking in my chair even thinking about it, but I have had the most incredible night, just unbearably adorable, I can't even grab my head around it just yet. If I could, I would be describing it in heart-wrenching detail but I really can't.

So just... be happy for me. Thank you and good night.

good night

Wednesday, May 25, 2005

...meet me on my vast veranda...

I did what everyone would do at a time like this - ran off to Thornhill. Had coffee with Shuls, and then ran off to Rachel's house to eat Italian for lunch and make ourselves fat. But not too fat because I'm going out tonight, and oh baby.

We are having nerves, a mountain of them, for this.

So it's getting better, marginally, in one respect anyway - but the rest of this shit is going to have ramifications like strings reaching out, getting into everything for a long while. I need to extricate, but it's going to be messy. I'll be sad for awhile I guess, and by sad I mean annoyed, at irrational girls who blow up and blow out - but I'll just keep on trucking for the rest.

...waiting like you're talking...

This was enequivocally the worst day ever.

Except for you, you are my superstar. The one good thing of my day, just that.

But except for his one brief shining moment, it was horrible. The smallest thing became this ordeal, this huge ordeal - miscommunication of everything. I feel bad and I can't sleep. I can't reach Rachel, or Lizzy, or Natalee or half the people I care about and could really use to hear from. So I'm in bed and I'm crying, and the whole world feels broken. Everything is hopeless tonight.

Monday, May 23, 2005

...blue like Paul Newman's eyes...

It's so close I could choke on the proximity. You write such pretty lines, and I'm such a nerd for you. Metaphors to actors long past, the ones that made a generation melt, I can draw the connections.

You are the last thought of my Monday night.

Please please please please please... two hundred pleas, wishes at every wishing moment. 4:44 p.m, and later tonight 11:11. Open invitation, bells. Bells!

...we both go down together...

I'm missing a Jewish country-rock queen: please find and return to me care of post. By which I mean phone, email, fax or telegram.

All my problems are the result of the sexual revolution. No one knows the rules anymore. This thought isn't original, but rears it's head every Sunday and the occasional Tuesday afternoon. The rest of the week I mull over the possibilities, debate the inevitabilities, or what I hope them to be.

Even if you don't know the rules, you must have some intrinsic idea when you're breaking them. And if you aren't serious, if you're having fun at my expense, you're breaking them. I've only ever been a nice girl. For what godforsaken sin in some past life do I deserve having the intricacies of this game played out over instant text messaging?

Has anyone even considered the absolutely nonsensical nature of text messaging, anyway? You are holding the phone in your hand, for the love of God just call me.

Maybe you, too, should take some lessons from Humphrey Bogart

I need to be decided on a course of action. Well I am decided, on one thing at least. Punctual is out, comfortable will be for others. But we're still not decided on the other one, and our head hurts.

No they'll never catch me now.

Sunday, May 22, 2005

...and i saw momentarily...

Break down of the show last night sees some disappointment in three things:

i) They started early, and so I came in on the third track. This means that I missed two incredible songs, since I hear they opened with Infanta (so fitting), and July July.

ii) The first half of the show went off without a hitch but without any personality as well. I could easily have been listening to the CD. Petra's spoken asides were moronic - she can sing, on occasion, but shouldn't speak please. Colin should do whatever his heart desires, and we will love.

iii) The set was too damn short! No one with a repertoire like theirs should be allowed to leave after an hour and a half. Totally unacceptable. More annoying since we knew the band was rushing so that THEY could head to the Opera House to see M.I.A.

There were two incredible redemptions. The first was Chimbley Sweep and the bizarre and completely perfect inclusion of a Jewish Folk Dance into the hook. I thought we were all going to have to start doing the hora. As it was, Colin had the entire audience kneeling and sitting on the floor at one point, which was a sight to see in itself. The other redemption was The Mariner's Revenge as the closer, which was so pumped and great.

So there - good show. Not great. They didn't even have band merchandise which I could use to validate myself as an indie rock groupie.

Saturday, May 21, 2005

...the good times are killing me...

This class has 500 pages of reading a week.

And a three hour lecture twice a week, with one 15 minute break.

So odious.

The week's pluses:
- Decemberists tonight
- have tickets to Olympic Island
- NXNE a breath away
- calling a cutie pattootie in DC-area
- the return of a Brahmin God
- planning Harry Potter (though people are trying to rob us of the event)

...a son who would take the ropes...

I'm caught between two ideals.

Passion.

Consistency.



- - love is zeno's dichotomy paradox. assume i choose passion as a goal to reach. to get there, first i must get halfway there. before that i must get a quarter of the way there. before that, an eighth. but every step can further be subdivided and i don't even have a starting point (that can be divided, too). the situation is worse than hopeless since never mind about finishing the race, it looks like i cannot even begin. - -



I feel compelled and caught in the consistent. We are being paired by all the elements - our friends, my friends, the ones we ran into on the street last night, the parents who saw his hand graze my knee, the smokers outside of the bar who saw his arm around me as we left. "Are you a We?" No. No no no. Not at all (yet). "You're not giving him a chance". I know that, actually - but can't help it, all my chances are currently occupied.

And when, lacking a way to unite the two concepts, you have to choose between the lifetime comfortables or the 5-minute elations... wouldn't you rather have elation? Even when it's up and down, and tenuous, and brief it still appears sometimes, mostly on Sundays (especially between the hours of 4 and 7, judging by previous examples) and you are ready for it, and take flight. Never just always on the ground.

Friday, May 20, 2005

...the moscow dating rules...

1. Assume nothing.
2. Never go against your gut.
3. Everyone is potentially under opposition control.
4. Don't look back; you are never completely alone.
5. Go with the flow, blend in.
6. Vary your pattern and stay within your cover.
7. Lull them into a sense of complacency.
8. Don't harass the opposition.
9. Pick the time and place for action.
10. Keep your options open.

Wednesday, May 18, 2005

...text messaging...

Nick: So, do you think this woman switching sides to the Liberal Party can be seen as some sort of foreshadowing to Anakin Skywalker turning to the dark side?
Me: Shame on you! Don't make fun - don't you know Canadian politics should be respected and revered?
Nick: Now that is a scandalous statement. I'm holding a vote of non-confidence in you.

...don't phunk with my heart...

My heart is devastated. Reading my horoscope today, I thought it might be fun to read what Phil Booth wrote for some of the other signs.

In two of the other sign's messages I found entries that were WORD-FOR-WORD what he had in previous times written for Cancer! Is he just recycling the same ambiguous crap for everyone?!? I RELY on him. Fucking hell.

Alright children, auditions are on. Find me another astrologer, if you please. With the proper credentials and a proven history! I want someone very well recommended, this is crucial to the way I conduct my life.

(And I don't want to hear the obvious replies of "maybe you should find another way in which to conduct your life").

...you say you want a revolution...

Yesterday was incredible, in one word. Maybe two words - audacious being the second, although that applies more to Sunday and fun on the escalator.

And then today is - - - EMPTY! No more victory dances.

Je suis confuse

Notes on a weekday in suburbia:
- ran into Parker and she condescended to me in infuriating ways: teaching is only a backup she says, which is why she hasn't done research or prepared - planning on never using it.
- remind me to post the Moscow Rules tonight, and their other and more apt use
- I want a photo show tomorrow and a response to my sign. The literal sign. I'm not talking psycho-emotive smoke signals or anything like that, although those were never picked up either. PICK UP. Pick ME up. (Don't you want to?!)
- But... but... I was the reason for impossible happiness in spite of a horrible day. Does that count for nothing in this world?
- Apparently not.

I love teaching, have I mentioned? In the student crop of mediocrity originally pops up a lovely lovely gem, incongruous like a weed but a much more pleasant surprise. In the Mod West Class, it is Jackie who did this for me. She is a total superstar.

Monday, May 16, 2005

...laugh...





From Washington, D.C.

P.S. The cool chica in the left corner of the pic is Retsos, the hero of anyone who had one of her classes in high school. Am I right, or am I right?

...shut quietly...

So I've spent the last few days wandering the labyrinth of House of Leaves. Has anyone else read? Let's discuss. This book is going to take at least a third reading, maybe more - you can't get everything out of it on the first go, it's too dense, and the footnotes are too many. But SO INCREDIBLE and frightening and gripping and lovely, at the same time.

Today I return to my high school, to teach this time. Hurrah for TA's and volunteer hours.

Thinking back on yesterday and the change, seems like back to old times. Are we good now? Is everything good?

Sunday, May 15, 2005

...i feel good all over...

i) It was interesting because I did exactly the opposite of ice queen. I melted and touched and smiled and touched. And had a great day.

ii) I spent a good chunk of today trying to figure out what S*nder's cologne reminded me of. The closest I could get was "chalet sauce". Why does that strike me as not right?

iii) I love my 50-odd nun sweet colleague, but she is such a romantic that she keeps gushing at me, and trying to force my hand in this boy thing because she adores "young love". I told her this isn't "young love" in the shared sense, but a one-sided unrequited puppy love which is going to break my heart. The look that I see in the eyes of the sweet/timely one? That's the look I want to see in his eyes. What the fuck is with the powers that be and these funny little jokes they like to play on me?

iv) It's not even 10pm but I am exhausted. Am I allowed to go to sleep already?

...sequencing...

In the latest incident of run-ins with my high school past, the girl said "wow! You look so different. Did you lose a bunch of weight?" Which was lovely, because it implied I had had the weight to lose. Lovely was sarcastic.

Secretly, yes I did. But, past tense because I've been gaining it all back. I'm becoming a calorie-Nazi again this week. I know I know, I haven't posted in days and I come back with weight talk. I'm sorry I don't have a personality. I'll get one again... when I'm skinny.

Tonight was meeing Rachel's love for the first time, and dancing at the Fez. Both were hits, and her love is a love. LOVE. Clearly, the most important consequence of this is that I will finally get to be a maid of honour. In a hot dress.

Tomorrow is progressing beyond ice queen to ice bitch. Because it is called for.

Thursday, May 12, 2005

...i'm your quirky, wonky...

I woke to the determination that I would be my own superman, and stop. End. Cut. My cell phone's text inbox was empty, after all, and that hurt.

And then this, from Phil Booth at the Star: "You're doing it again. You're making canyons out of wormholes. The only thing you lack is patience. Just as water erodes rock, you will wash away what is blocking your path. Permanent improvement will reward your efforts. Keep up your determination."

What.

The.

Fuck.

...and the virgin mary looking down...

Sometime around midnight, I bit through the lemon slice in Steph's martini. Waited for the tartness to ring sharp through my body, break my internal focus and bring me down. Break the single-minded concentration on that which hurts when it ignores.

Almost one, and still no answer. Sicky sicko, where are you? Why are you...? So empty.

Wednesday, May 11, 2005

But she wants!

Tuesday, May 10, 2005

...flip-o-matic...

This is going to be one of those days, I know. By days I mean weeks, because it ends in Friday the 13th so obviously that's what it's about.

Everyone has having issues and I feel for them. Throw on the chainmail and commit violence on behalf of them all. Miss Lizzy, there's alcohol awaiting you.

The store is having one of those days too, with all the crazies coming out. I want nice customers please, I will arbitrarily refuse to serve them if they're not. Can we trespass on principle? Is that allowed? "But -insert manager's name here- they're just not nice".

Telling Tales is fantastic, a great collection of stories. That should be the next choice on any of your reading lists.

...eleielei...

Alright children, who has my "100 Years of Solitude" and "Lolita"?

I need them back, quickly please.

And Derek, the fact that you STILL have Pride and Prejudice is insane. It's been a year! Finish it!

...charmed, charmed, charmed...

Because I'm insane, I added a third volunteering day at TSS.

Tonight was revelations. Consumed "Bullets over Broadway" and Paolo Coelho's "By The River Piedra I Sat Down and Wept" and took from them the following: Love is to be lived and fought for. Love is the one without the games and drama. Love is not "preconceived notions, stubborn thoughts". That, and, actors are shit.

Consequentially, my tan blazer is bereft of the Superman pin with which it was briefly adorned.

So tomorrow has a stronger, wiser me. Not an ice queen but just one who took the blinders off overnight. Here's to keeping it real, and not kidding myself.

Monday, May 09, 2005

...an unequivocal disaster...

We had a little incident at Starbucks yesterday involving me, Extremely Loud and Incredibly Close, and tears. The book was finished, but with it my heart. Devastatingly gorgeous, I was just crying, into my coffee, huge alligator tears mixed with laughter. Such a sight.

I'm so scant with writing in here, can't find the time. Summer was supposed to be rest, but instead has become 36 hours a week at work + PiD + summer school + the mag (so exciting) + volunteering two days a week at TSS. Plus reading. Plus a pretend social life. I'm sleeping less than I was in school. Completely incomprehensible.

Sunday, May 08, 2005

...brights...

This night was too much of an ordeal for me. My head hurts, and my heart, and my hip from where I bumped into the bar.

Frustrated had me tear up the coasters, stole your bit. Too much, too long, and too hard to stop myself. Because I could choke on this much potential, and it doesn't make sense to me, all the games.

Saturday, May 07, 2005

...i went to the seashore...

The whole world is in jail and we are planning a huge jailbreak

Written on the signboard in front of the Koffler Student Centre. Dying of curiosity to know the story behind it, and how I can sign up. I want to break from my own personal jails.

We had a blood sugar incident tonight that was frightening. It took about 20 minutes to pass, which was even more disconcerting. This is becoming tiresome. The thing that made it more pressing I think was how it came out of nowhere; I *have* been careful, really I have. It was just a stupid foresight that I forgot what I'd had to eat earlier and at what time, and misjudged what a glass of wine would do. Fucking ordeal, my life.

50 minutes on the phone with Rogers Wireless got me nowhere. I have two voicemails in my box, and can't get into them because my phone is on crack. What. The. Fuck. It could be important man. I'd been expecting three calls, and praying for one other. It could have been any of those. And now I will never know, until it fixes. Tomorrow maybe, hopefully.

Speaking of tomorrow hopefully... Oh boy. Oh boy oh boy oh boy. Fingers crossed okay? It's the last go 'round. Because come Sunday, we go out with the sweet one and toss in previous towels FOR GOOD.

Oh and in other aggravations, my 11th grade English teacher wants to take her English lit kids on... get this... a "Gossip Girls" trip to New York.

Thursday, May 05, 2005

...in a beautiful world...

Such an incredible day, with sunshine to boot.

i) From the server at Red Lobster earlier, to Farnam and I on our hot lunch date, the best compliment ever: "Are you girls fashion students?"

ii) Grosman was so happy to see me that he hugged me twice, and then I volunteered to be his student-teacher for 9 applied math. Hurrah! This much closer to my 300+ (dear lord) volunteering hours requirement. How hot that Rach and I will be volunteering at the same school.

iii) Compiling a list of books and other media to send to Retsos.

iv) I look so unbelievably great today. Which is wonderful because I saw the boy, and it's good when he sees me pretty. Slides his arm around me as I walk up to him post-exam. "Hey how did it go?". "So good", I answer. Thinking, 'you're touching me; that's good too'. So adorable, I can't stand it.

Then this afternoon seeing Laura randomly on the street, odd. She's... blond. I mean, she was always blond, and all that implies. But she went Marilyn blonde and it looks the opposite of the sophistication I can only assume she was aiming for. And while Le Chateau head to toe was acceptable in high school, it doesn't really work for her anymore. It was nice and pleasant and completely contrived, our little encounter, which just shows that we aren't likely to ever be friends again.

v) I don't have the money to buy tickets for all the things I need to buy tickets for. Suggestions?

Wednesday, May 04, 2005

...pressing...

I feel like I'm 16, in the 50's. Get this: I'm wearing his pin.

Bahahahahahaha.

Superman.

...I was happy the whole time! What a relief!...

The reason I am not studying for my bioethics exam is because I've been horribly distracted reading the blog of a girl I knew in high school (part of my brother's generation).

Truthfully, despite the fact that she's obviously a little... empty, the blog is cute and she is a surprisingly entertaining author. Sure the fumes from her bright red nails may have gone to her head a bit, and her cookie-cutter multiple births fantasy is somewhat disconcerting, but honestly when I read the bit about her conversation with her mother re: tortellini in the garage, I laughed out loud. In Robarts. Which got me glares.

I heart blogs.

...line of the week...

Farnam: I could wear head-to-toe khaki if I wasn't so khaki coloured myself.

Tuesday, May 03, 2005

...i'm on fire...

He writes his emails in short sentences. With periods after each line. Sometimes only a few words. Or just one. I worry because it looks so abrupt. Don't talk to me about grammar. Periods are endings.

I want ellipses...

Monday, May 02, 2005

...sweet, sweet music [i'm yours, i'm yours]...

I survived anthropology, that's something at least.

By survived, I mean aced. For the record. 95 on the final term paper, and the prof is keeping it, hurrah. The exam was a piece of cake. Chocolate, even. Sprinkles?

Maybe not sprinkles.

We think we frightened Janet today with talk of the ones that last 22 seconds. Don't fret, jet because it really is insignificant in that which matters. What matters is heart. You get scared when that is what doesn't materialise. Anything else is gravy.

Speaking of heart, I might see mine tomorrow for the briefest of briefs before I run to hide in a basement and study bioethics. By mine I don't mean "mine", because not yet. But oh. Oh.

...car pour me plaire, il faut me consumer...

Sunday, May 01, 2005

...stuck past timing [play it cool boy]...

My dilemma is that the force of positive tension is enough to split me apart. Internalizing a tug of war, with grown up consequences. Someone will get hurt here.

"He lights up when he's around you, you know. Have you noticed that? I've never seen him so animated", she tells me when I come back down to earth, rejoin the living. Which almost hurts to hear, because I do know that but at the same time, I can only put up with the walls for so long. Knowing that I hold the power to change this balance isn't as comforting as you may think, because I'm more scared than he is, I think.

And I spend the whole day with you and just want more. I hear your stories, the one about moving into the new apartment - the couple dancing in the apartment across the alley, and you want what they have - and know not only that you could have that, but that I want to be the one you have that with. So I dance with you on parquet flooring missing chips; alone again or, it runs through my head. We talk movies, and you rub my back. I haven't seen all the good ones yet, but that's okay. That's where you come in. Still the whole time I'm thinking, I have an exam tomorrow. I have an exam tomorrow.

This past Friday, something new, someone new. No walls, no insecurity, no nerves, no arguments from concerned friends and neighbours -- but, as yet, no passion. No heart, no heart. Gentlemanly, sweet, chivalrous, punctual.

Punctual? I'm doomed.

Or lucky. Maybe this is as good as it gets.

Please don't let me believe that of the world.

Christ. I have an exam tomorrow.