Once in a while, I get suddenly filled with this strange sense of urgency. That I need to do something NOW! If I don't, I'll miss my chance. I never know what tangible thing it is that I get so fevered about. I can never pin point it. I can never grab root. It's the pacing around the house thinking and thinking with your mind skipping about. And it's never about what to wear tomorrow or what my friends are doing. It's this deep fountain that bubbles out. It's the place where frustration and fufillment meet. It's hope and disappointment. Doubt and bravery. On one hand it feels like the purest thing I've ever known, on the other hand it's the faintest. It's skimpy.
In the Emily books, L.M Montgomery writes about the flash. The lifting of the veil. I think maybe the two are related. The urgency to see what lies beyond, to hold onto the flash. It's a bit of a motivator because it always makes me want to make changes. I want to make apologies and friends. It provokes this need to be honest and true. It makes me feel like I am not big enough or strong enough to love the world.
It makes me want to write up this big pretentious mission statement (a la Jerry Macguire).
But I never could. I simply lack the eloquence.
I just think that everyone should know how rad they are. And I think they should embrace it. What can I do to encourage it?
I need to come up with a better word than "rad".
I'm wearing goth nail polish. I don't recognize my hands.
I am crunching on an unattainable boy so hard. Every day it gets worse, because as I get to know him better, he just turns more magical. I think magical is the best word. However, he of girlfriend and dread locks and vandalism, he needs to be out of the picture...fast.
This is what always happens, by the way.
Friday, October 19, 2007
Monday, October 15, 2007
Sometimes I am old.
Times when when I can feel wrinkles around my eyes just by smiling. Getting crushes on boys who are nearly ten years my junior. When the music is too loud and the lights are too dim. When I sit and grieve for the immerging generation. When the trichotillomania is at a peak. When my back and legs and feet are tired from working. When things look generally grey and gloomy.
I am thankful for my life and my work and I am excited about so many things. It's nice to be optimistic for real tangible things. Things are good.
It's just these late night thoughts and no one to share them with. The worry about being single and working in a coffee shop forever. I think it's okay to feel like you a limit with singleness. It's okay to not want to go to bed because it seems so empty. I know how to suck it up and deal with it, but sometimes, when I am particularily old and tired, I do not want to be alone anymore. I had a kissing dream last night....with Owen Wilson. It was a great dream. Waking up sucked.
I've been entertaining some ideas today. Not sure if they're good ideas, but it doesn't matter because i have absolutely no intention of following through with any of them.
I have decided to try to not have a drink until Christmas time. I just feel like it's a little to easy to have one too many. We'll see how it goes. It's also very easy to have a wee drink at work
Today I downloaded about 15 Garth Brooks songs. He's amazing. If this officially gives me bad taste in music, so be it. You can take your wolf/horse/mother/mountain bands. Garth is rad. In particular, The Change. I don't know why. It's been made into this super american song, but if you take it out of the context of 9/11, it's a great song on it's own. And don't get me started on The Redstrokes....
I've been thinking about all this stuff. Like the video in the last post. How can I love? I feel like I'm not loving enough. I sometimes feel like my purpose here on earth is to make people feel loved. I usually end up hurting them. i am constantly forgetting birthdays and putting off writing that email. I like a lot of people, I get along with a lot of people, but i don't know if I love them. It's kind of a tragedy when I really think about it. I'm just here on Main Street doing a half-assed job.
I need to stop writing about it.
good night
Times when when I can feel wrinkles around my eyes just by smiling. Getting crushes on boys who are nearly ten years my junior. When the music is too loud and the lights are too dim. When I sit and grieve for the immerging generation. When the trichotillomania is at a peak. When my back and legs and feet are tired from working. When things look generally grey and gloomy.
I am thankful for my life and my work and I am excited about so many things. It's nice to be optimistic for real tangible things. Things are good.
It's just these late night thoughts and no one to share them with. The worry about being single and working in a coffee shop forever. I think it's okay to feel like you a limit with singleness. It's okay to not want to go to bed because it seems so empty. I know how to suck it up and deal with it, but sometimes, when I am particularily old and tired, I do not want to be alone anymore. I had a kissing dream last night....with Owen Wilson. It was a great dream. Waking up sucked.
I've been entertaining some ideas today. Not sure if they're good ideas, but it doesn't matter because i have absolutely no intention of following through with any of them.
I have decided to try to not have a drink until Christmas time. I just feel like it's a little to easy to have one too many. We'll see how it goes. It's also very easy to have a wee drink at work
Today I downloaded about 15 Garth Brooks songs. He's amazing. If this officially gives me bad taste in music, so be it. You can take your wolf/horse/mother/mountain bands. Garth is rad. In particular, The Change. I don't know why. It's been made into this super american song, but if you take it out of the context of 9/11, it's a great song on it's own. And don't get me started on The Redstrokes....
I've been thinking about all this stuff. Like the video in the last post. How can I love? I feel like I'm not loving enough. I sometimes feel like my purpose here on earth is to make people feel loved. I usually end up hurting them. i am constantly forgetting birthdays and putting off writing that email. I like a lot of people, I get along with a lot of people, but i don't know if I love them. It's kind of a tragedy when I really think about it. I'm just here on Main Street doing a half-assed job.
I need to stop writing about it.
good night
Sunday, October 07, 2007
Wednesday, October 03, 2007
Rivers flow backwards, valleys are high. Mountains are level, truth is a lie.
Do you know how much I love Dolly Parton?
I can't even get into it right now.
But I think she is the most wonderful thing in the world. Can't stop listening to her. She deserves more credit as a song writer. why, it's enough to make me want to get a big old wig and a really good push-up bra.
My sister has a friend, and I think I am going to steal her. Bobbi is her name, and I like her. We went for A drink the other night, and had a wee chat. She's normal. It's nice to sit around and gripe about church. It's like someone understands how uncomfortable i am about church. It made me feel like less of a freak. I think that's all we need from others...to feel like less of a freak...and to allow others to feel the same way. Forget romance, we just want to be understood.
Okay, don't forget romance.
I have a new crush. Like a biggish one. This is good thing since I haven't really had one since the King. Mostly, crushes lead to disappointment. Two red flags are: 1) He is a co-worker. 2) He is so totally not my type in almost every way. However, he is kind and he is funny and he walks me home at two in the morning even when he has his bike and could be home in a quarter of the time it takes to walk up the hill. Also, he has these blue eyes that crinkle when he smiles....that gets me every time.
Anyway, it's silly and harmless and let's me feel less stone-hearted.
For weeks in a row I have firmly decided to quit my job at JJ, and for two weeks in a row I have had converstaions with my manager that have changed my mind. Can you spot the Pisces?
I put a big map of Berlin on the wall right nest to my bed, it stokes me every morning. There is a botanical garden in Steglitz, as i was lying in bed, i figured out how to get there on the U-bahn. It should be nice...in January! Pretty excited about this whole business. The bros are going in November, and I will join them in January. Carman might travel over there in the spring. Caleb and I have plans to rendez-vous in Paris. Benny and Sabrina are in Rome. Then there's always the Dublin girls. I can feel my heart beating a little faster even as I write this. I am way more excited this time around than I was any of the other trips. I don't feel nervous about anything..except for finding a place to live.
Okay, I gotta get ready to meet the Manchesters at JJ! I din't know where to take them, but I am sure it will be fun. I will (naturally) be fifth wheel....but I am used to that...by now.
I can't even get into it right now.
But I think she is the most wonderful thing in the world. Can't stop listening to her. She deserves more credit as a song writer. why, it's enough to make me want to get a big old wig and a really good push-up bra.
My sister has a friend, and I think I am going to steal her. Bobbi is her name, and I like her. We went for A drink the other night, and had a wee chat. She's normal. It's nice to sit around and gripe about church. It's like someone understands how uncomfortable i am about church. It made me feel like less of a freak. I think that's all we need from others...to feel like less of a freak...and to allow others to feel the same way. Forget romance, we just want to be understood.
Okay, don't forget romance.
I have a new crush. Like a biggish one. This is good thing since I haven't really had one since the King. Mostly, crushes lead to disappointment. Two red flags are: 1) He is a co-worker. 2) He is so totally not my type in almost every way. However, he is kind and he is funny and he walks me home at two in the morning even when he has his bike and could be home in a quarter of the time it takes to walk up the hill. Also, he has these blue eyes that crinkle when he smiles....that gets me every time.
Anyway, it's silly and harmless and let's me feel less stone-hearted.
For weeks in a row I have firmly decided to quit my job at JJ, and for two weeks in a row I have had converstaions with my manager that have changed my mind. Can you spot the Pisces?
I put a big map of Berlin on the wall right nest to my bed, it stokes me every morning. There is a botanical garden in Steglitz, as i was lying in bed, i figured out how to get there on the U-bahn. It should be nice...in January! Pretty excited about this whole business. The bros are going in November, and I will join them in January. Carman might travel over there in the spring. Caleb and I have plans to rendez-vous in Paris. Benny and Sabrina are in Rome. Then there's always the Dublin girls. I can feel my heart beating a little faster even as I write this. I am way more excited this time around than I was any of the other trips. I don't feel nervous about anything..except for finding a place to live.
Okay, I gotta get ready to meet the Manchesters at JJ! I din't know where to take them, but I am sure it will be fun. I will (naturally) be fifth wheel....but I am used to that...by now.
Thursday, September 20, 2007
chattaway thataway
I am not a good blogger. Inconsistant, with no pictures or links or anything. I am a bore-ger. boo ya.
Staff trip 2007. We got back yesterday from the great Chattaway Lake fishing retreat. The bosses...the ones who kisses your head when you cry...shut down the restaurant and took their entire staff camping for 2 nights. Chattaway is perfect. Each cabin sleeps about 4 people, they are equipt with anything you could need. A nice little wood-burning stove in the corner, a sink, a cozy table with mismatched chairs, a little stack of chipped dishes, and three hours of electricity in the evening. It was 2 and a half days of pure goodtimes. The only thing I really missed was being able to wash my hands in warm water with soap when i finished using the outhouse. The only plan for the whole trip was to hang out. So when it was nice, we were walking around the lake or boating or fishing or checking out the mining caves. When it was cold (which was most of the time) we huddled around the big fire pit, or hunkered down in different cabins with drinks and food and board games. Each cabin seemed to have different things going on in them. Lots of scrabble...joy. Everyone was mellow and safe...thanks probably to constant cloud of pot smoke in the air. I got a little stoney myself, simply from being in the same cabin with some pretty serious smokers.
I never got into that stuff, but i've never minded it either. In fact, i sort of like the smell.
The major bummer of the trip was the alpine beetle. Seriously, probably 70 percent of those trees are dead now. It's a total drag, and the only thing to do is to cut it out. It's also kind of scary because next summer it's just going to be a whole bunch of dry, dead wood. In parts, of the ride, whole hillsides were red with dead trees
So now, I've booked off the rest of the week and i think i will go to the island today. Hang out with Charlie.
Staff trip 2007. We got back yesterday from the great Chattaway Lake fishing retreat. The bosses...the ones who kisses your head when you cry...shut down the restaurant and took their entire staff camping for 2 nights. Chattaway is perfect. Each cabin sleeps about 4 people, they are equipt with anything you could need. A nice little wood-burning stove in the corner, a sink, a cozy table with mismatched chairs, a little stack of chipped dishes, and three hours of electricity in the evening. It was 2 and a half days of pure goodtimes. The only thing I really missed was being able to wash my hands in warm water with soap when i finished using the outhouse. The only plan for the whole trip was to hang out. So when it was nice, we were walking around the lake or boating or fishing or checking out the mining caves. When it was cold (which was most of the time) we huddled around the big fire pit, or hunkered down in different cabins with drinks and food and board games. Each cabin seemed to have different things going on in them. Lots of scrabble...joy. Everyone was mellow and safe...thanks probably to constant cloud of pot smoke in the air. I got a little stoney myself, simply from being in the same cabin with some pretty serious smokers.
I never got into that stuff, but i've never minded it either. In fact, i sort of like the smell.
The major bummer of the trip was the alpine beetle. Seriously, probably 70 percent of those trees are dead now. It's a total drag, and the only thing to do is to cut it out. It's also kind of scary because next summer it's just going to be a whole bunch of dry, dead wood. In parts, of the ride, whole hillsides were red with dead trees
So now, I've booked off the rest of the week and i think i will go to the island today. Hang out with Charlie.
Friday, September 14, 2007
jj jerk...
My two jobs caught up with me the other day. It happened on a day I was bleeding and feeling extra emotional. Thankfully, I have whole slough of nice bosses. Bosses who are forgiving and who make mistakes. Bosses who kiss my head when I burst into tears. Bosses who send me off to my other job when there's been scheduling mishaps. I'm very lucky. I have it pretty easy for someone who works 8 shifts a week. I also have virtually no grocery bill....which nice. Unhealthy, but nice. Actually, it's healthy...just not the natchos and beer and muffins.
I was thinking today that i have a good life. I am busy with work, and I have a friend to drink coffee with everyday....sometimes multiple friends to drink coffee with. I have some Corb Lund downloaded on my room mate's computer. A clean bathtub with a half full bottle of juniper extract bubblebath. I have a new haircut, and free laundry. The sun is shiny, and the air is crisp. The mountains to the north are looking particularily lovely...so lovely you hardly notice the bums with their needles.
I have decided to sacrifice one of my most beloved activities; reading in bed. Henceforth, reading is to be done in public.
Anyway. I don't know why i decided to write tonight. I think I'm going to go watch the bonus features for the Prisoner of Azkaban...which i think is the strongest of the harry Potter movies. So good...really.
Speaking of Harry Potter...I was watching that Jesus Camp movie in which this charismatic speaker lady totally S-L-A-M-S Harry Potter. It made me angry. The whole series is about love conquering evil and even death. I ought to write her a strong letter.
I also went to see the Jane Austen movie. It's good....but it would have been much better if Jane Austen Had written it herself. It's not nearly as good as Pride and Prejudice or Emma or Sense and Sensiblity. However...I love Anne Hathaway.
I was thinking today that i have a good life. I am busy with work, and I have a friend to drink coffee with everyday....sometimes multiple friends to drink coffee with. I have some Corb Lund downloaded on my room mate's computer. A clean bathtub with a half full bottle of juniper extract bubblebath. I have a new haircut, and free laundry. The sun is shiny, and the air is crisp. The mountains to the north are looking particularily lovely...so lovely you hardly notice the bums with their needles.
I have decided to sacrifice one of my most beloved activities; reading in bed. Henceforth, reading is to be done in public.
Anyway. I don't know why i decided to write tonight. I think I'm going to go watch the bonus features for the Prisoner of Azkaban...which i think is the strongest of the harry Potter movies. So good...really.
Speaking of Harry Potter...I was watching that Jesus Camp movie in which this charismatic speaker lady totally S-L-A-M-S Harry Potter. It made me angry. The whole series is about love conquering evil and even death. I ought to write her a strong letter.
I also went to see the Jane Austen movie. It's good....but it would have been much better if Jane Austen Had written it herself. It's not nearly as good as Pride and Prejudice or Emma or Sense and Sensiblity. However...I love Anne Hathaway.
Thursday, August 30, 2007
currywurst
The hotdog stand on 14th and Main kicked it up a notch. They are now selling the great Berliner treat of currywurst! currywurst is sausauge cut up in bite size pieces and served on fries witha dallop of curry-ish ketchup. It's hot and fatty and spicy and totally delicious! I've never hotdogged at the Main Street stand. It's always closed at the hours one craves a hotdog. I usually save hotdogs treats for downtown. Nothing beats sitting on the Art Gallery steps with a good friend and fresh dog with lotsa onions!
The Art Gallery is the best place to sit and watch folks walk by. All types of people on Robson. Mostly tourists and fashionistas in silly shoes.
I fell off the currywurst track here....
Soon (i think) I wil be eating it in Berlin with my friends Marty and Annika.
Cautoiously optimistic.
The Art Gallery is the best place to sit and watch folks walk by. All types of people on Robson. Mostly tourists and fashionistas in silly shoes.
I fell off the currywurst track here....
Soon (i think) I wil be eating it in Berlin with my friends Marty and Annika.
Cautoiously optimistic.
Tuesday, June 26, 2007
Two Pabst Blue Ribbon's in...
...so silly to start this up again.
I mopped the floor today. If I was a real blogger, I would post a wonderfully composed photo of my mop in sudsy water. The truth is that my mop is (who knows how) old, and my mop bucket is nothing more than an old, rejected waste paper basket. I could include a picture of Fantastic (with bleach), but that makes for uninteresting photojournalism. So there it is, and here I am. Alone, listening to Dolly Parton (my soulmate on so may levels) and drinking beer. I told myself that beer days are over, but that changed so quickly when Caleb called to hang out and drink beers. Steve left some cold ones in the fridge, so of course I cracked one...well, two. It's okay. He owes me.
Have I told you about my friend Caleb? I hold him in my heart. It's kind of funny, because there was a time when I could hardly stand the guy. I just love that he calls me to hang out in parks, or come over to my porch. Feeling alone tonight, I decided to not call anybody to see what's going on. I decided to download Dolly Parton and Gillian Welch and Damien Jurado and Josh Ritter (heart heart heart) and songs of the Once soundtrack. Then when the phone rang, and I saw the Retzlaff name on my display, i thought "Ah, now there's some one I can handle sunset with." so he came over, he was grumpy, I was introspective. He left after a couple to be with his lady, and I stayed here to throw a load in the dryer. Here I am.
But I was thinking about boys. The boys I know, are the boys I love. It's a real problem. When I meet a guy, I see friend potential before I see romance potential. So then I become friends with all these rad dudes, and am left without romance because it's weird to get romance from friend-dudes. I think I'm doing it backwards. What I need is some good, old-fashioned dating.
So if anybody know of any leads...applications are going out.
wendyjbateman@googlemail.com
Please show prospective daters pictures taken from my left side...that's the side where my teeth aren't all fucked up. I will be happy to accept any applicant who will be willing to unfuck my teeth on the right side, so that it's won't matter what side of my smile is seen.
I mopped the floor today. If I was a real blogger, I would post a wonderfully composed photo of my mop in sudsy water. The truth is that my mop is (who knows how) old, and my mop bucket is nothing more than an old, rejected waste paper basket. I could include a picture of Fantastic (with bleach), but that makes for uninteresting photojournalism. So there it is, and here I am. Alone, listening to Dolly Parton (my soulmate on so may levels) and drinking beer. I told myself that beer days are over, but that changed so quickly when Caleb called to hang out and drink beers. Steve left some cold ones in the fridge, so of course I cracked one...well, two. It's okay. He owes me.
Have I told you about my friend Caleb? I hold him in my heart. It's kind of funny, because there was a time when I could hardly stand the guy. I just love that he calls me to hang out in parks, or come over to my porch. Feeling alone tonight, I decided to not call anybody to see what's going on. I decided to download Dolly Parton and Gillian Welch and Damien Jurado and Josh Ritter (heart heart heart) and songs of the Once soundtrack. Then when the phone rang, and I saw the Retzlaff name on my display, i thought "Ah, now there's some one I can handle sunset with." so he came over, he was grumpy, I was introspective. He left after a couple to be with his lady, and I stayed here to throw a load in the dryer. Here I am.
But I was thinking about boys. The boys I know, are the boys I love. It's a real problem. When I meet a guy, I see friend potential before I see romance potential. So then I become friends with all these rad dudes, and am left without romance because it's weird to get romance from friend-dudes. I think I'm doing it backwards. What I need is some good, old-fashioned dating.
So if anybody know of any leads...applications are going out.
wendyjbateman@googlemail.com
Please show prospective daters pictures taken from my left side...that's the side where my teeth aren't all fucked up. I will be happy to accept any applicant who will be willing to unfuck my teeth on the right side, so that it's won't matter what side of my smile is seen.
Friday, September 22, 2006
I've been thinking...
...and I think that I am ready to fall in love again.
With a soft spoken tradesman with grey at his temples and laugh lines. Or perhaps an author who weaves stories that tug at heart strings and fills the reader with wonder. Maybe a young farmer who will teach me things about bits and bridles and mending fences. Someone who will sit by fires on rainy sunday afternoons with cups of tea and my head in his lap.
Barney Snaith.
My last round at love was painful and rough, and left a few abrasions on my heart. Three years and now, and the scabs have finally healed over. It took this long simply because of neglect. Superstition never healed anything. Talking yourself down perhaps helps with the panic, but not the pain. And distraction is only temporary. Open festering sores need balms and fresh fine linens to bind them up. So now my heart is fresh and pink with only a few scars, and even those disappear with time.
Now I crave that warm feeling on the underside of your soul, and the thrill of anticipating that first kiss. The comfort of walking down autumn streets arm in arm with rosy cheeks.
It's nice to revive this old-soul romantic in me. I think that thanks is mostly due to Laura Ingalls Wilder, who has written books that everyone ought read in both their childhood and adulthood. I will give props to L.M. Montgomery who also wrote The Blue Castle, which in my estimation is what every girl really wants.
With a soft spoken tradesman with grey at his temples and laugh lines. Or perhaps an author who weaves stories that tug at heart strings and fills the reader with wonder. Maybe a young farmer who will teach me things about bits and bridles and mending fences. Someone who will sit by fires on rainy sunday afternoons with cups of tea and my head in his lap.
Barney Snaith.
My last round at love was painful and rough, and left a few abrasions on my heart. Three years and now, and the scabs have finally healed over. It took this long simply because of neglect. Superstition never healed anything. Talking yourself down perhaps helps with the panic, but not the pain. And distraction is only temporary. Open festering sores need balms and fresh fine linens to bind them up. So now my heart is fresh and pink with only a few scars, and even those disappear with time.
Now I crave that warm feeling on the underside of your soul, and the thrill of anticipating that first kiss. The comfort of walking down autumn streets arm in arm with rosy cheeks.
It's nice to revive this old-soul romantic in me. I think that thanks is mostly due to Laura Ingalls Wilder, who has written books that everyone ought read in both their childhood and adulthood. I will give props to L.M. Montgomery who also wrote The Blue Castle, which in my estimation is what every girl really wants.
Friday, August 25, 2006
Tuesday, August 15, 2006
jam
Just when I feel the most fed up about things, my boss comes down the stairs with little jars of organic blueberry jam that he made himself. It's not a lot, but it's something, and that's enough.
And it tastes good.
And it tastes good.
Tuesday, August 08, 2006
As taken fron Anne of Green Gables the sequel, which I will watch in bed later tonight.
(names have been changed to appropriately fit my situation)
"Joanne. She was the bride of my dreams. She and TIm are gone now. I feel tired and anxious...I don't know."
I don't know what to say. I miss Jo. So much.
"Joanne. She was the bride of my dreams. She and TIm are gone now. I feel tired and anxious...I don't know."
I don't know what to say. I miss Jo. So much.
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
argh.
I am totally frustrated right now.
I've been waiting around the house for these dumb boys to show up. All day yesterday, and (so far) today. I waited up until 2 a.m. last night, and got up early this morning. I haven't heard a word. Everytime I leave the house I leave stick-it notes on the door. My days off are precious. These are valuable beach weather days, boys! It's difficult to be annoyed at people you don't even know. They could be perfectly repectable young men, but right now they're totally pissing me off. I don't know if I should be worried or what. I don't know their names, and I don't know how they're getting here. Did they reach trouble at the border? Did they get in a car accident? Did they get my proper address and phone number? Are they just fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants kind of guys? Did communication get mixed up? Were they just maybe going to stay these two nights at my house, and I took it as a for sure thing? Did they get accosted by heroine junkies in the DTES?
I don't know.
I know that I should chill the fuck out, but the Marilyn in me won't let me. I've already scrubbed the bathtub and changed the bedsheets.
This is a rant, and I am sorry.
I've been waiting around the house for these dumb boys to show up. All day yesterday, and (so far) today. I waited up until 2 a.m. last night, and got up early this morning. I haven't heard a word. Everytime I leave the house I leave stick-it notes on the door. My days off are precious. These are valuable beach weather days, boys! It's difficult to be annoyed at people you don't even know. They could be perfectly repectable young men, but right now they're totally pissing me off. I don't know if I should be worried or what. I don't know their names, and I don't know how they're getting here. Did they reach trouble at the border? Did they get in a car accident? Did they get my proper address and phone number? Are they just fly-by-the-seat-of-their-pants kind of guys? Did communication get mixed up? Were they just maybe going to stay these two nights at my house, and I took it as a for sure thing? Did they get accosted by heroine junkies in the DTES?
I don't know.
I know that I should chill the fuck out, but the Marilyn in me won't let me. I've already scrubbed the bathtub and changed the bedsheets.
This is a rant, and I am sorry.
Thursday, July 13, 2006
prairie.
This is what a prairie sunset looks like. At least, that is what I called it until I was quickly reminded that this was actually "the valley".
I am glad I went to the wedding. I am glad I lost one of my jobs for it. I believe the Little Prince would have been proud of me, just for the sake of the sunsets.
It was a quaint little wedding. Full of sweet touches and family and food.
Tuesday, July 04, 2006
I don't know what I should do. What the fuck should I do?
I don't want to talk about it.
Let's talk about nice things.
Yesterday, I was feeling a bit blue-ish for rather pathetic reasons. So I decided to pack a little bag of a blanket and a book and a water bottle and walk up to Queen Elizabeth Park to lie on the grass before I had to go to work. On my way to the park I stopped at old JJbean for an iced americano with chocolate. It came as no surpirse to find Ben there listening to music and drawing in his little book. That guy can be frequently found there doing just that. So I gathered him and took him to the grassy hill by the duck pond. We had nice time eating olives and stawberries and creamy ping pong crackers. We took silly pictures on my camera and talked about real things. It was exactly the kind of social interaction I needed. I miss him sometimes. I miss our walks home from Arts Umbrella. He is a one of a kind.
Then I realised that I know a lot of One-Of-A-Kinds. And I am lucky. Perhaps I am a little proud of the people I know. It puffs me up. I think that I am perhaps special for the people I know and like and enjoy being with. Does that sound silly? I like walking away from some one thinking, "Man, I like that person so much!" I can't lie. My self-esteem has been in the bucket lately. I've been needing to hear that I am loved and adored and genuinely liked. So these little encounters mean a lot to me right now. Ben wouldn't leave his coffee haven if he didn't really want to hang out at the park with me. Josiah wouldn't have given me hugs if he didn't really want to. Jenny wouldn't have pulled me aside to tell me things if there wasn't a real concern there. So I have it made.
It's remembering that's the problem.
I don't want to talk about it.
Let's talk about nice things.
Yesterday, I was feeling a bit blue-ish for rather pathetic reasons. So I decided to pack a little bag of a blanket and a book and a water bottle and walk up to Queen Elizabeth Park to lie on the grass before I had to go to work. On my way to the park I stopped at old JJbean for an iced americano with chocolate. It came as no surpirse to find Ben there listening to music and drawing in his little book. That guy can be frequently found there doing just that. So I gathered him and took him to the grassy hill by the duck pond. We had nice time eating olives and stawberries and creamy ping pong crackers. We took silly pictures on my camera and talked about real things. It was exactly the kind of social interaction I needed. I miss him sometimes. I miss our walks home from Arts Umbrella. He is a one of a kind.
Then I realised that I know a lot of One-Of-A-Kinds. And I am lucky. Perhaps I am a little proud of the people I know. It puffs me up. I think that I am perhaps special for the people I know and like and enjoy being with. Does that sound silly? I like walking away from some one thinking, "Man, I like that person so much!" I can't lie. My self-esteem has been in the bucket lately. I've been needing to hear that I am loved and adored and genuinely liked. So these little encounters mean a lot to me right now. Ben wouldn't leave his coffee haven if he didn't really want to hang out at the park with me. Josiah wouldn't have given me hugs if he didn't really want to. Jenny wouldn't have pulled me aside to tell me things if there wasn't a real concern there. So I have it made.
It's remembering that's the problem.
Monday, June 19, 2006
15 Cherry Lane
My newest hairbrained idea is hatched. I always get these, live off of them for a few months, and then they fade into the distance. They never come into fruition, because I am lazy...and scared to death.
Property on Prince Edward Island is pretty cheap. The landscape is as close to the praries meeting the ocean as you can get. You can see the sea from almost everywhere, and it's still pretty rural. My idea is to take a skilled trades course when I come back from Europe. I would like to be a carpenter and make beautiful wooden furniture that is functional and beautiful. I could have a work shop, and a small little farm. I could sell my honey and my furniture to tourists in the summertime. In the winter I could hunker down in my little house on Cherry Lane, and write kids books and make more furniture.
How wonderful does this idea sound? Or is it taking this whole Anne thing to far?
Property on Prince Edward Island is pretty cheap. The landscape is as close to the praries meeting the ocean as you can get. You can see the sea from almost everywhere, and it's still pretty rural. My idea is to take a skilled trades course when I come back from Europe. I would like to be a carpenter and make beautiful wooden furniture that is functional and beautiful. I could have a work shop, and a small little farm. I could sell my honey and my furniture to tourists in the summertime. In the winter I could hunker down in my little house on Cherry Lane, and write kids books and make more furniture.
How wonderful does this idea sound? Or is it taking this whole Anne thing to far?
Monday, June 12, 2006
wishing and hoping and thinking and praying
Usually I make it a rule not to have crushes on boys that have already boned any of my friends. (I think that in Vancouver it's a particularily wise rule to have). However (and much to my dismay), I have found an exception. Not that anything could possibly ever happen, but I am in full-on daydream mode. It's sick. It's just because he's tall, and knows my name.
Peeps the cat is a total shithead.
Peeps the cat is a total shithead.
Friday, June 09, 2006
Basically, this is for Kate
It's the wee sma's. I am bagged. I worked until 2 last night, slept four-ish hours and got up to work at 7 this morning. I had a little nap this afternoon, ate some chicken, got gingerale for sick carman, (who I think snarled at my mother today) and went to a Ladyhawk show. It was good show. I think that Ladyhawk make good music, Book of Lists opened and they were also good. I like that I have gotten over a bit of my pride, and can call Laura a friend, even though she stole Annika away from me. At the show I made a few discoveries. I met a guy named stuntman, whose real name is greg. I stuffed my ears with toilet paper. I hung out back stage, which wasn't special at all, anyonw could go back there. I boy asked for my number, and I gave him my now defunct digits. I feel a little guilty about that, because I think I serve him tofu sometimes. But he was a random, and I don't know about the randoms. Iniitally, I didn't mean to give him the wrong number, it just came out first. I forgot his name. That whole thing is weird anyway, I was just standing there watching some bands play, and talking to people. All of the sudden this dude starts asking me questions, and for my number...with his cell all prepped. Is this normal? I don't know. Typically, dudes leave me alone. I guess I can no longer complain about boys. I also found out that this guy from around town, is cousins with Shelley Peters from Capernwray days. Which is weird. I think about her sometimes, we had fun. He's tall and a drummer and crush worthy. He could have asked fo rmy number, but he didn't. Besides, he already got down with one of my girls, so that takes care of that. Shelley is married...or course.
Tomorrow I meet my mother for lunch. She is on her way to the Sunshine State to look after a family of Iwawkis as they prepare for days in the hospital. Lady Codelia has to have surgery on her little head. Poor Darling. I had a little shirt made for her at the Rgional Assembly of Text, which is a sweet little store that you would really like. Brandy's taste is similar to yours. You should be friends. Anyway, the shirt has birds. I hope she likes it.
Goodnight, and I love you.
Tomorrow I meet my mother for lunch. She is on her way to the Sunshine State to look after a family of Iwawkis as they prepare for days in the hospital. Lady Codelia has to have surgery on her little head. Poor Darling. I had a little shirt made for her at the Rgional Assembly of Text, which is a sweet little store that you would really like. Brandy's taste is similar to yours. You should be friends. Anyway, the shirt has birds. I hope she likes it.
Goodnight, and I love you.
Tuesday, June 06, 2006
old as the hills
I have just been contacted concerning my ten year high school reunion. I am old.
I don't want to go. The whole concept is a little whack, especially if you were a loner-type. I still speak to the two friends I had in high school.
Sometimes I am sick of my job.
Sometimes the stigma attached to being a server at The Foundation is a little much to handle. Becasue I work there, people expect me to be cool and snobby and scene, so they treat me as such. Girls especially. I work there to pay my rent, not to be seen by hipsters. I feel like I am being judged, and watched so closely. That, compounded by comments customers have made to me about my appearance, makes getting dressed to go to work an anxiety-filled and stressful experience. I feel like I want to print an article in the hipster magazines and explain to the masses how difficult it really is to serve 13 tables all on your own. That's a lot of drinks. That's about 50-60 people to serve all at one time. Not to mention that we're expected to bus and bill and seat everyone.
Don't get me wrong, I am happy to be there, and am lucky to have a job. It's not even The Job, but the attitude that seems to just waft up the seats. Of course my response to that is going to be less than warm. I try to like everyone, I try to work as hard as I can, and be as pleasant as possible. That's how my mother raised me.
I think the part that gets my goat is that, sometimes the masses are right. I have seen some pretty bad srevice, I have given some pretty bad service. (I have a strict policy not to encourage grownups who insist on acting like babies.) I do know that some people put out that too cool to work for you vibe. And it bothers me. But I don't want to spend my hours comparing myself to everyone else. It's a waste of time.
So I will try to be cheerful.
I don't want to go. The whole concept is a little whack, especially if you were a loner-type. I still speak to the two friends I had in high school.
Sometimes I am sick of my job.
Sometimes the stigma attached to being a server at The Foundation is a little much to handle. Becasue I work there, people expect me to be cool and snobby and scene, so they treat me as such. Girls especially. I work there to pay my rent, not to be seen by hipsters. I feel like I am being judged, and watched so closely. That, compounded by comments customers have made to me about my appearance, makes getting dressed to go to work an anxiety-filled and stressful experience. I feel like I want to print an article in the hipster magazines and explain to the masses how difficult it really is to serve 13 tables all on your own. That's a lot of drinks. That's about 50-60 people to serve all at one time. Not to mention that we're expected to bus and bill and seat everyone.
Don't get me wrong, I am happy to be there, and am lucky to have a job. It's not even The Job, but the attitude that seems to just waft up the seats. Of course my response to that is going to be less than warm. I try to like everyone, I try to work as hard as I can, and be as pleasant as possible. That's how my mother raised me.
I think the part that gets my goat is that, sometimes the masses are right. I have seen some pretty bad srevice, I have given some pretty bad service. (I have a strict policy not to encourage grownups who insist on acting like babies.) I do know that some people put out that too cool to work for you vibe. And it bothers me. But I don't want to spend my hours comparing myself to everyone else. It's a waste of time.
So I will try to be cheerful.
Wednesday, May 31, 2006
texada
You know, I am one lucky girl. I hope that whenever I feel down in the dumps and unloved, that I remember today.
I am lucky beacuse I have friends who can fly single engine airplanes, who will fly me over the west coast. To see islands and inlets and beaches and my parents house from 2000 feet. I have friends who will snuggle with me in four man tent on some remote island, and not once mention my snoring. I have friends who are totally cool that I only want to drink two beers while they get wasted. I have friends who ask me to tell them all the ghost stories I know. I am lucky. I have friends who tell me they miss me, and get worried about me while I am in a single engine airplane over the sea. (who don't mind if i steal neautral milk hotel lyrics) I have friends who are glad to see me after months of away-ness to hot chicks in hot lands. I have friends. I do.
I have friends who read my late night ramblings, who love me anyway,
I am lucky.
I also have a kitten who purrs.
I am lucky beacuse I have friends who can fly single engine airplanes, who will fly me over the west coast. To see islands and inlets and beaches and my parents house from 2000 feet. I have friends who will snuggle with me in four man tent on some remote island, and not once mention my snoring. I have friends who are totally cool that I only want to drink two beers while they get wasted. I have friends who ask me to tell them all the ghost stories I know. I am lucky. I have friends who tell me they miss me, and get worried about me while I am in a single engine airplane over the sea. (who don't mind if i steal neautral milk hotel lyrics) I have friends who are glad to see me after months of away-ness to hot chicks in hot lands. I have friends. I do.
I have friends who read my late night ramblings, who love me anyway,
I am lucky.
I also have a kitten who purrs.
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