i’ve ruined myself. i knew i wasn’t feeling up to par friday and saturday, but i still had to go to the pub, smoke like a chimney and scream like a banshee yesterday. i’m an idiot.
getting out of bed this moring was a monumental task. i’ve already taken headache meds and consumed two cups of (medicinal, you understand) coffee, neither of which have done anything to elevate my mood. i’m only at work because it’s payroll monday. as soon as i’m finished, i’m going home. to bed. to sleep. the worst part? i didn’t have time to wash my hair, so i smell like day-old smoke. ick.
yesterday was a strange mix of childish delight and mature insights. we three, sitting at “our table” in the corner, discussed some serious issues regarding relationships, abuse, money, alcoholism, health & fitness. meghan revealed more about her past abusive relationship. mark went up a peg or two in my estimation when he described to me how, once he met meg, there were no other women for him. we discussed how much of a loser they both think jason is. “why were you dating him?” they asked. “i wasn’t dating him,” i answered, “we were just sleeping together.”
i’m not accustomed to serious conversation, especially when it deals with me. most of my life i’ve managed to avoid having to discuss how i truly, deep-down feel about things. i’m petrified of laying myself bare in that way. at least i acknowledge it now and force myself to step ahead, even if it is only a baby step.
i just realized that in the almost two months since i changed my calling card number, i’ve heard from tyler twice. both times asking me to phone him. on one hand, i’m glad he wants to talk to me; but, on the other, i’m pissed that he’s still not willing to spend his own money to do it. god, i’m such a doormat. fuck it. he can phone me. i’ve been phoning him for six years. then again, maybe i shouldn’t be making decisions when i’m this cranky and miserable.
i feel the urge to work out. how nutso is that?
the best parts of today (disregarding canada’s brilliant gold-medal win over the usa in ice hockey) were the incredible feeling of national pride and camaraderie we felt while watching the game with a building-full of people screaming at the tops of their lungs with joy and then the drive home, our makeshift maple-leaf blowing in the wind, horn honking, giving the thumbs-up to strangers.
i love hockey. i love canada. i love everybody, today!
six-thirty in the morning, coffee and leftover pizza in hand, i read the pretty websites. procrastination runs rampant. should be making websites for others, not gawking at ones already made. lay off, it’s saturday.
update: i got my 404 page working again! wahoo!
a headache threatens and the world ends half a mile from wherever i stand. the spotted, raindropped windows testify to a violent night, everything is a shade of blue or grey. maybe i shouldn’t have worn purple today.
vocabulary has suddenly returned, like the valentine i sent to a long-absent friend. simile too, it seems. still deciding if i’m glad of that or not. does it make for more interest or disdain? regardless, i can’t bring myself to care when my head feels this poor.
small sparks of anticipation: olympic hockey, pizza, pajamas.
there is a survivor contestant who is exactly my age, both of us having the same birthday and year. i suppose i know who i’m rooting for to win.
i was browsing through the player profiles for kicks and i was struck by how stupid these people must be. not even for the obvious reason of going on that kind of show in the first place. you see, these people have no idea how to pick their luxury items. let me list the dummest choices: massage oils, bible, lock of horse hair, necklace, scriptures, book of poetry the contestant wrote!
come on! none of these things are in any way useful. yeah, yeah… comfort items. bleh. you have to be creative with your choices like the following: pillow, football, canvas & paints, cologne. interactive! selfish! odour-masking! those people were thinking.
me, i’d have a hard time choosing between a deck of cards and a toothbrush.
feeling philanthropic. wanting to run out and join the art gallery, go see concerts, donate to fine causes. wanting to become an urban bohemian, replete with glasses, piercings and a copy of chaucer’s canterbury tales in my bag. sleepovers at the aquarium. recumbent galactic excursions at the planetarium, blowing bubbles at the stars. finally, thirsting for culture and information.
losing myself in the details. becoming mezmerized watching a flight of starlings swoop across the sky to lightly perch in the winter-naked birches.
waiting for that something which will provide the impetus to break out of the apathy.
getting better all the time.
i was good. casual. off-hand. “next time you have a couple days, we should go to the pub and catch up,” i said. then i logged off. i wasn’t going to sit around and wait for him to pay me attention. i wasn’t going to wonder what i could do to convince him to come over to watch the game with me. he’s on his way to arizona right now and i’m glad of it. the further he is from me, the better i feel about myself.
it’s not fair that just as i’m feeling completely secure in my solitude he can pop up out of the ether and disturb my equilibrium. of course, he did nothing to disturb me. it’s my reaction to him. i’ll give you that.
it’s good that he’s not around, that i haven’t seen him in eleven months. i’m going to ensure that the next time i do see him it’s not in my apartment, or his place. it will someplace without memories. with other people. with beer.
yeah… it’s best he didn’t come over last night. i haven’t shaved my legs in a week.
from a letter dated january 10, 1994 written to a friend about my then-new computer:
I paid $1578 plus taxes for the one with 4 MB RAM (of course) and the .28 dot pitch non-interlaced SVGA monitor. Everything is fully upgradeable so at any time I can plug in extra megs or a bigger hard drive. I haven’t been away from it since I picked it up so my vision is a little blurry these days. My Aunt and Uncle got me Lands of Lore: The Throne of Chaos for Christmas. They must really love me to get me a $60 computer game. Its one of those fantasy role-playing games. I didn’t know if you would like a copy so I didn’t include it but if you’re interested just give me shout and I’ll send it to you. Be warned! It takes up 22 MB on your hard drive and needs 590 K free to run properly. It’s addicting too.
hah! twenty-two megs for an rpg. hah, i say!
andrea asked me earlier how i was doing and this is how i answered her:
“i feel a little disconnected. like i’m a big non sequitor. i don’t quite relate to anything today.”
the more i think about it, the more i’m convinced it’s as honest as i’ve been in a fair while.
recently, i’ve been considering my growing satisfaction with my lack of love-life. it’s been over a year since i’ve had sex or any kind of physically affectionate interaction with another human being. usually, at about this point, i’d be freaking out, bemoaning my lack of monkey love and proclaiming myself doomed to eternal chastity. i just can’t seem to be upset about it, though.
when i start thinking about getting hot & sweaty with someone, i don’t get a thrill. i don’t ache for it. i don’t wriggle about in my chair wishing there was somone to pull me to my feet and take me up against the wall. ahem.
that’s not to say i still don’t have urges; but i’m happy to put my purple, vibrating appliance to the task. i don’t have to worry about whether or not he’ll get me off or if i’ll get him off. he doesn’t care what noises i make or if i shaved my legs. when i’m done, i can roll over and go to sleep. alone. i can take up the whole damn bed for myself. i will sleep deeply and peacefully in my post-orgasmic bliss, not worrying if i snore or fart during the night.
it’s odd to realize that i’m absolutely okay with not having someone to lust after, kiss or cuddle. moreso because i didn’t have to work at it, it just happened. i hope it lasts, i kind of like it.
sitting in the second row on a beautiful friday afternoon, listening to grieving daughters recollect their mother to the assemblage. old men with big ears and ill-fitting suits, old women in three-decade-old fashion faux pas brought out from the back of the closet. strangers filing through the double doors because of one woman’s death, and life. death makes people hungry; the sandwiches went quickly, but not as fast as the sweets. hugging, quiet conversation. smiles feel wrong somehow, but not as criminal as the sudden burst of laughter you hear from across the room. jealous, hoping to rate such a turnout.
i’m wasting time. i shouldn’t be so fucking cavalier with my life. time is short, don’t you ever forget it.
i’m listening to “copa cabana” of my own free will. loudly. and singing along.
tomorrow, i will be attending a memorial for my step-aunt who passed away last thursday.
i’ve never been to anything like this before. i don’t know the protocol. i don’t know the right things to say to her husband or her daughters. i only know that i have to be there, if only to spend a quiet moment in the church being thankful she was so welcoming of me into her home during the sunny summer pool parties and the recent winter holidays, a moment mourning for her newborn grandson who will never know what her voice sounded like, a moment remembering how she always loved to talk about books and coronation street with me, a moment being grateful she’s no longer in pain from her disease.
i don’t know what i’m supposed to say.
i dreamt that i was on a plane to france with mom and karen; but, as soon as we took off, i realized i’d forgotten my passport at home and i would be turned around and put on a plane home when we landed. i tried phoning my dad, or anyone i could think of, to try to break into my apartment, find my passport and courier it to france so it would be waiting for me when i landed. he wasn’t home anyway. i started freaking out and my mom just laughed at me over a plateful of mini-cherry turnovers. just to add insult to injury, i lost my wallet too.
the best thing about the dream was the plane. it was like a cruise ship in the sky! three restaurants, two bars, movie theatre, outside patios (on the wings), business lounge, privacy suites. the captain even announced that kirk douglas, burt reynolds and some band were on board!
it was scary walking out onto the wings with no safety ropes, let me tell you. it was a lot less windy then i’d thought it would be at thirty-five thousand feet.
i only went in to have him look at my ouchy tooth, dammit. now i’m sitting here as the freezing slowly drains from my face… *drip*
came home and the cable modem was angrily flashing orangey lights at me. i was not impressed, especially considering the state of my slowly thawing mouth. sat on hold with crappy 60’s porno hold music. got disconnected right as an operator picked up my call. phoned back. sat on hold with crappy 70’s porno hold music. got the bestest help desk chick ever. told her about the crappy 70’s porno hold music. also told her my theory about their putting the crappiest porno hold music they can find to make wannabe complainers hang up before they reach that elusive operator. she laughed. i laughed. my face hurt. i stopped laughing. she made me turn off and unplug things then went to talk to someone else while listening to crappy porno hold music again. two minutes after she came back, lights were no longer blinking and i was good to go. yay, linda! i should write her a letter.
while i was at the union office yesterday, hr got in a hissy fit about letters which needed doing and somehow managed to terrorize wilma & amelita into entering them. the best part: they fucked it all up because they don’t know the tricks to getting the program to do things it wasn’t supposed to do. it took them all day to go through about a quarter of what was sitting there. i got through half today. by myself. alone. because i know what i’m doing. dorks. i giggled when i found out. see? they really do panic when i’m not there. gotta wonder what they’ll do if i get the payroll position.
yeah, i think i’ve finally figured out that i have to apply for the temporary position in payroll. i’m not very happy doing data entry anymore and there’s so much data entry to do right now that i don’t even have time to do the other tasks which are a little more enjoyable and/or challenging. i don’t know if i’ll even get the position, but i have to try. i need a change or i’m going to become bitter and mean. well, more bitter and mean than i am already. it’s scary. i don’t normally like change. especially when it means i’ll have to leave my boss. i love my boss. he’s wonderful. my new boss would suck buckets, but at least i’d get to work with sandy and i’d learn new things. i love to learn new things. even if they are scary and now i’m babbling, so maybe i should just shut up and fill out the damn application. *droopy half-frozen smile*
i have to phone my mom and break it to her that i’m not really interested in going to visit this weekend. i mean, meghan’s making chili friday night. i can’t pass that up! besides, i’m really broke. even with the wcb cheque i got yesterday, which will just cover the few other things i need to buy and a new pair of jeans. not to mention paying for bowling sunday, if i decide to go. the jury’s still out on that. it’s somewhat scary to think of meeting all those other vancouver bloggers in person. i’m waiting for derrick to force me into it.
you know, i wasn’t going to mention anything about it, but i still can’t watch jamie & david’s pairs skate without crying. it’s a beautiful program with gorgeous music, but every time i watch it i *know* they didn’t get what they deserved and it breaks my heart. i could reconcile myself to the outcome if the russians had had a clean skate, but they didn’t. pass me a tissue, please.
well, a vd card. oh stop looking at me like that. you know exactly what i mean. dirty minds, all of you!
thank you, tanya! you made my otherwise loveless week! *smooch*
my lips are really chapped, which makes no sense as i’ve drunk over two litres (sorry, billy) of water today.
anyway, as for the drama of this morning. i really did think i’d be in for a delightful monday. marion, the security guard, gave me a this chocolate mousse and strawberry tart she’d made and there was a falson sitting on the fence as i drove down the hill. i figured they were good omens. it just went into the crapper from there. i was suffering from a serious case of jodi’s mean reds and everything was annoying me. especially the beautiful day outside i couldn’t even go walk in because i had too much work to do. so, i stayed at my desk and worked so much my wrists were throbbing by the time i said “fuck it” at three-thirty. i’ve been great since i left! even went grocery shopping and spent all of my week’s food allowance on staple-like stuff (pb & j, salsa, ziploc bags, shampoo… that kind of stuff). it’s a good thing i still have that 4kg bag of rice to eat until payday.
tomorrow’s a union day, so i won’t be around. wednesday, sandy and i are going out for lunch so i can pick her brain about whether or not i should apply for the payroll position. thursday… i hope is just a normal day. friday, meghan’s making chili for dinner.
i need more water. goodnight!
it seems i was wrong. very, very wrong.
you know your monday is going to be good when it starts out with chocolate and strawberries. yum!
i feel horribly sorry for myself right now. so i berate myself for feeling that way when i have no good reason to. maybe i’ll drink that ice wine i have in the fridge. no, i won’t do that. i’ve never been a drinker, which is a very good thing. too many alcoholics in my family as it is. okay, so i won’t drink. i could eat! but there’s nothing really bad for me to eat and there’s no point in emotional eating if it’s not junk food. i could work on the redesign, but that will just depress me more. i was so excited about it, but now… i’m already over-used to it. i could go for a drive in my freshly repaired car! but then i’ll miss out if m&m want to play tonight, which is, if i’m really honest, what i’m sitting here waiting for. i need more friends. hah! i could phone anthony! i stole his phone number off his application form. naw, he’s probably out doing cool things with his cool bootlegger buddies. it’s too late to go buy new jeans. i’m too broke to go rent a movie. i could phone tyler, whom i haven’t talked to in what seems like a very long time; but, i’m doing that whole passive-aggressive testing thing by waiting to see if he loves me enough to finally spend his own money to phone me. hey, at least i admit that’s what i’m doing. i’ll probably smoke a little, maybe even do dishes and read a while longer. i’ll give the folks up the hill another half hour before i get into my comfy pants. i’ve been dressed far too long today as it is. mmm, mono-paragraph. it’s like highschool all over again.