insert here

i think it's time to let go of long hair. who am i trying to kid? and the thought of working for anyone other than myself is making me more and more angry these days. i was all worried that my lack of enthusiasm for "jobs" and "work" meant that i was lazy and unambitious, a "slacker" or possibly even a loser. i'm certainly not the "go-getter" type that is so revered in what i've come to truly understand as the most idiotic model for successful living ever produced in modern society. i don't need to have a fraction of the things that i'm supposed to be working for. i don't want to make money to buy things. i don't think debt is a good idea. i don't want to sell my time to anyone. i got really high last night and started going off on how the only time i feel truly gratified and at peace with myself is when i'm cutting up magazines and arranging the pieces in grid patterns. i felt my eyes get wet when i was trying to describe to my boyfriend how much i like sharp scissors and glue. he said i should just face the fact that i am really an artist and i should stop dismissing those impulses as frivolous side line activities. he also said i was the cutest marxist he's ever seen. so, now i'm relieved to know that i'm not actually lazy, i'm just not interested in what almost everyone else thinks is important. i already knew that, but good pot really clarifies my feelings sometimes. it makes it a lot easier for me articulate the things that actually are important. my goal is to eventually stop working for other people so that all my time is mine to make things i want to look at.

i also revealed to m. last night that i want to take voice lessons. i always thought it would be great to be able to sing loudly and on key about sea creatures and what went on during my day.

m. is gone for an entire month- i drove him to the airport this morning and now i'm sitting in front of the computer wearing his favorite t-shirt (i know that sounds lame, but this shirt is fucking awesome. it has a giant faded skull on the front and is 19 years old.) my hair is really greasy and i've just finished making plans to babysit on new year's eve. at least my sweatpants still fit. january is going to be a long month. at least x-mas is over.

speaking of which, i spent x-mas eve with m. in a hotel room snorting coke and fucking for hours. we rented non-stop porn on pay per view. it was great, but i've discovered my maximum porn saturation point is three hours. m. hates x-mas so we had to do something subversive. on x-mas day, i went to turkey dinner with 20 of my friends in a cabin in the woods. m. stayed home and watched an animated movie he found under our couch. no one knows who it belongs to or where it came from.

horrified by sugar

something really gross happened to me the other day. i grabbed a yogurt from the kitchen at work first thing in the morning. it was the "fruit at the bottom" kind, so i shook it up before i opened it. it tasted different, but good. after a few more mouthfuls, i noticed i was doing a lot more chewing than tiny bits of peaches warranted, so i spit some of it out. as it happens, i was actually chewing on rubbery chunks of mold. mmmmmmm. mmmmmmmmmmmm. yeah.

i have just discovered a relatively excellent video store in town. i had kind of resigned myself to the Roger's Video Shithole Experience, which actually makes Roger's look like a fun place to work: hunky teenage boys engaged in "horseplay" and eating pizza behind the counter to a punk music soundtrack. But I fucking hated renting from there. Those hunky boys have one functional brain cell between them, so getting any sort of information from them beyond "how much?" just wasn't going to happen without at least fifteen minutes of hand gestures and slow talking. plus, the selection is seriously lacking in the good department. my new video store is heaven in comparison.

it is the simple pleasures in life that really move me.



i have to say i think rob zombie is a good film maker. rent the devil's rejects dvd if only for the documentary of the making of the film, thirty days in hell. the production was under budget for one thing, but zombie's approach to film making is economical in several other ways: time, space, ideas. he also has some excellent criticisms of hollywood and violence. it's great to see the actors talking about the shit they had to do and how they felt about it, too.

speaking of uncomfortable movies, i watched palindromes last night. i loved it, but now i want todd solondz to make another movie about dawn weiner- i have to see what happened to her life (obesity?! rutgers?!) palindromes also has the best contemporary christian song and dance number i've seen in ages. it was so good it just about made me gay.

cornhole

i've been rereading a collection of books that i loved when i was a kid. they're gothic novels for children by a man named john bellairs. i had superb taste when i was eight, because i'm totally loving these books now. and it's very interesting to play a little investigative pop psychology and pick out elements from these books that obviously influenced me as a child, and subsequently informs me, at least somewhat, as an adult. for example: my favorite color is purple and in the house with a clock in it's walls, purple is mrs. zimmerman's signature color. there are a lot more subtle and nuanced connections i've been making, but, you know, i'm only illustrating a point here, ok?

i'm taking the day off from the boyfriend, which is something i badly needed. i said i was going to do some "homework" on this stupid correspondence course i'm in, but i think i'm just going to spend the day reading books and magazines and nibbling on crackers. i might make some pornaments or start a postcard for jason later. maybe. i felt a bit guilty for blowing off the very thing i was scheduling this time for, but i haven't really had time to lay around on a gloomy sunday afternoon and read for a long time either, so fuck it. i've been proscrastinating so long with this course that one more day means nothing. plus, i plan on making a lot more time for myself in the future anyway, so it's not like today is the only time i have to be responsible. i have to make an effort to not spend time with m. as a matter of habit or obligation, because that's the kiss of death in a relationship (at least one of them) and i want to at least make the real effort of having something good and honest with this person. i can't do that if i'm on autopilot in any way, or if i'm crabby and irrational simply because i'm spending too much time away from my own time and space. so, no bra today for sure.

art tubes

i was pretty bored at work today, so i came up with a new art project to work on. (in other words, another project that i will lose interest in and then feel guilty about, most likely.) i'm going to make original art postcards and mail them to my friend jason. nothing special, really. and not terribly original, but i like the dimensions of standard postcards, and i have always had a weird fascination with mail. plus, i enter into a "post modern dialogue" regarding image reproduction (which almost all postcards are, except mine, of course), the marriage of visual art and literature, and all that other crappy crap bullshit that art people like to talk about. sometimes, i like to talk about that kind of thing too. but more often than not, it makes me really impatient. i like to learn about art, but not necessarily from artists and/or art critics. especially not from art students. anyway, i know this is something jason will appreciate because he likes mail and he likes art, so everybody wins. i will mail the first one tomorrow. when jason reads this post, this will be the first time he's heard anything about it. so, note to jason: please don't throw these postcards away. i'm not sure what i want to do with them, but it would be hilarious to put up a show in regina, and get some arts sponsorship to pay for my trip back home so i can attend my gallery debut. then i can sell the postcards for a "reasonable" price and buy booze and pot for all my regina art wanker friends. sounds like a good idea, doesn't it?

in other art related news, there's something here called "festival of trees." every year, corporations/companies/etc. decorate an x-mas tree and they all get displayed downtown in our federal government building. well, i like to do something called a "porn tree" but i don't think i'd be allowed to put it in the "festival of trees" mostly because i'm not a corporation and also mostly because i think hard core porn is frowned upon in public federal buildings. anyway, right across the street is a little gallery called "arts underground." (it's underground.) and i thought they might like to display my porn tree. i'd have to probably write a proposal and/or some kind of artist's statement, but i can deal with that because i would love, love, love to have one of my porn trees officially labeled as art. (and, yes, wendy, i will send you a pornament or two.) they might actually go for it. we'll see if i actually get the nerve to do it. this town is really small and i would end up having to explain myself to a lot of people.

i have to bake cookies now. we got a new oven and i need to try it out.

like snow for mocha

i invented a new kind of tobogganing. it's called "porn sledding" and i discovered it quite by accident. did you know that it's possible to "perform" at least six sexually suggestive positions while tobogganing down a hill on an inner tube? your partner doesn't even have to be willing, let alone know what's going on. "porn sledding" is aided by break-neck speed, limited visibility and friends who know "what you're like."

here's the aftermath



what really happened: kim and i were coming down the hill and i was starting to slide off the front of the tube. my legs were getting caught in front of us and i had a horrible premonition of breaking them both in a spectacular freak tobogganing accident. i didn't want to break my legs, so i was clutching and flailing at anything to hoist myself back on the tube. it just happened to be kim's leg that i grabbed in such a way that it became hooked over my shoulder, thus putting her in an awkward spread eagle. her crotch was in my face. i mean, other things happened too, but i want to keep that private. anyway, it was a lot of fun for me. i laughed and laughed.

tomfoolery pizza hell

i wish andy warhol had come to my school and given a talk about art. i wouldn't have cared or known who andy warhol was- i think i was 11 when he died- but it sure would be nice to have that memory now. in fact, i'm sure it would have been hilarious to remember andy warhol surrounded by a bunch of grade schoolers from southern saskatchewan in one of those totally "classroom looking" classrooms, mumbling things like "gee, you sure are cute" and "art is what you make" with his wig slightly askew. oh well. who needs real memories when you can just make this shit up? i just made that "memory" for myself and it was pretty good. emotions related to this "memory" are just as easily manufactured as the images of it-- it just requires a lot of detail. mmmm. . .now i can "remember" having sex with ewan mcgregor when i was 17. this is so great. who knew you could use your imagination for such wonderful things?

my friend kim is coming over tonight. we're going to go play "upwords" at a "rock and roll" bar. seriously, the logo includes the phrase "rockus maximus." no one goes there for obvious reasons, so it's an excellent place to play board games or have really private conversations. i am going to drink mimosa just to piss the owner off. i'm sure he'll be bartending since i don't see how he can possibly be making enough money to pay someone else to be there. i love tuesdays.

eye diseases

i am so very, very hung over today. m. prepared a mexican feast for me and my room mates last night and i thought having a large bottle of tequila and 24 corona on hand would be appropriate. i blacked out a short time after eating a portion of the worm that was in the bottle of mescal kismet had stashed in her room. apparently, anything goes after a "mescal martini." i don't remember much. m. and i apparently attempted to have sex, but the only recollection i have of that is trying not throw up from the spins. it was pretty hot. i wore special "festive" outfits last night, too. there were like, three different costume changes. one of them was a red plaid tam and a short black dress with line drawings of flowers on it. for some reason, that ensemble said "mexico" to me at the time. god, tequila hurts bad.

bring on the bacon, francis

fuckabaloo

i watched caligula last night. it was the uncut version, but it was still pretty boring. peter o'toole was great, though. i have no other compelling comments regarding this film at the present time.

what is pork doing in my chicken chow mein?

alright. i admit i have nothing compelling to say about anything at the present time.

hoe town

my rant yesterday regarding slutty halloween costumes was in no way a criticism of real, honest to goodness sluts. open your vagina to the world girls, just be smart about it. what i don't like are "pretend" sluts and the sexualization of children. oh, and i don't like women (or men) who think that overt displays of raunch for the benefit of crowds of drunk men is "liberating." there's a lack of irony in today's mass culture i find disturbing. maybe it's because i'm from "generation x" when irony reached it's cultural pinnacle. whatever.

m. bought me a vibrator yesterday. i'm so in love. (why are vibrators ok and artificial vaginas just creepy?) we met some friends on the street when we were on our way home from the sex shop. they were going to the coffee house with their manual typewriter. we were going to m.'s house with a vibrator and a bottle of brandy. there are lots of ways to spend a sunday afternoon. . .

ass years away

m. and i are starting a band called "slutty fetus." our debut album will be titled faster than the speed of ass. we came up with this high concept endeavour after witnessing the parade of slutty costumes the girls were wearing for their big halloween night on the town. april was a slutty witch and amber-lee (yes, that is her real name) was dressed as a slutty brownie. if you're canadian, you'll recall that brownies were the step before girl guides (similar to girl scouts, etc.) brownies are in the 7 to 8 year old range, and i myself was a brownie, but i thought it was stupid and did not continue onto girl guides. the uniform for a brownie is a utilitarian brown dress with an orange and white neck scarf that has to be tied in a special knot. anyway, a slutty brownie? come on. that's gross. m. was like, "what's next? the slutty toddler outfit?" and i was like "no. next year it should be the slutty fetus." how awesome would that be? because, really, if the fetishization of children has become as acceptable as women choosing to sexualize their childhood experiences to that extent, then i say we need to go back to the womb. imagine how disturbing it would be to see an image of a fetus, all veiny, bulbous eyes, still partially "webbed" fingers, umbilical cord, maybe even covered in a little blood and mucus, wearing fishnets, a short skirt and a tube top. people would be appalled. but, somehow, the slutty brownie is a-ok. christ. have you seen what 7 and 8 year old kids are wearing these days? it makes me want to live in a remote part of northern canada. the "post-feminist" cultural scene is really creeping me out.

i'm going to watch hedwig and the angry inch tonight to make myself feel better. another great show to watch when you're feeling utter despair about the vacuous wasteland of current pop culture, is strangers with candy. it's a tv series created by and starring amy sedaris. that's some funny shit, man.

yeah, i said "cum rag"

i'm listening to pork soda, released by primus in 1993. i haven't listened to this in over 10 years. i found it in the discount bin at the local cd shop and couldn't resist. my favorites were, and still are "my name is mud" and "nature boy." i almost didn't buy it though because i thought it would reek of highschool too much. thankfully i've been able to listen to it with a "fresh ear."

m. and i went to the history of violence last night. david cronenberg is a subversive freak and i love it. when we got back to my house, i made us some tea. i never really got to drink my tea because m. was naked almost as soon as we got upstairs. i'll spare you the gory details but i have to say m. is a subversive freak and i love it. it's always weird coming downstairs to use the bathroom after m. and i have just fucked our brains out. can my room mates hear us? we try to be quiet but, you know, whatever. does our heterosexual passion gross out the lesbians and they're just too polite to say anything? i hate coming downstairs in my bathrobe (which is really just a bath towel) to get a "cum rag" or to use the shower for a quick rinse and meesh will just be sitting at the dining room table reading. is she really reading or is she just too traumatized to move or say anything?

my mouth still hurts, but i think it may be getting better. i still wake up every night in excruciating pain, though. maybe i need to elevate my head. you know, like sleep propped up a bit. i don't know. what do you think? maybe i'll actaully get some useful blog spam commentary, not the private road construction one again. i just don't understand it.

love is annoying

i feel contemptuous today. specifically of my boyfriend. i am alarmed by this because i am supposed to be in love with him. i'm hoping that i feel this way because i quit smoking cold turkey and have a nagging weird pain in my mouth that never goes away. plus, there's a variety of drugs swimming in my veins that are supposed to relieve that nagging weird pain. at any rate, i need more personal space. i can't spend too much time with even my closest friends without hating them a little bit. i'm sure he'll understand. he's used to tempermental head cases-- he was a theatre promoter in the late 80's- early 90's in toronto. it's hard not to be jealous of him sometimes-- he's had the life that i always kind of wanted: full of famous people (including kid's in the hall and kurt cobain-- major influences when i was a teenager, icons of my youth, etc.) travelling, the "finer things in life" and drugs. sigh. oh well. biologically, he should die before i do, especially now that i've quit smoking.

i saw what i might look like with a penis this morning, though. that was interesting. m. was laying on his bed naked and i was straddling him while fully clothed. when i looked down, his penis was positioned in a way that it looked like it was coming out of my pants. i said, "i have a penis." and we laughed and laughed.

private road construction

my boyfriend rocks. he's making me "soft dinner" tonight: garlic mashed potatoes, poached salmon and chocolate ice cream. yummy. then he's going to spank me while i call him "mister discipline." should be fun. he told me last night that my mouth smells like a hospital. sexy. it's because of the medicinal clove goo. the magical goo that saves me from "dry socket." he still wants to have sex with me, so maybe he finds "hospital mouth" titillating. whatever. as long as i'm getting some.

dinner time. . .

dry socket

a "few" years ago i did a lot of peeing in public places. this was on my birthday: a harrowing night of mushrooms and "treasure" hunting. i got tired of pissing in the bushes so i switched to these comfy concrete trash receptacles. . .



in other news, i spent the majority of last night writhing in agony on the couch. i seriously wanted to kill myself. i found out today that bit of fun is called "dry socket." exposed nerves from the extraction of my teeth. i was warned about "dry socket" but i figured i was safe since i have been religious about salt water rinses, no straws and no smoking. that's right, folks. i haven't had a cigarette in 5 days. i think i've quit, and that's the only good thing about this whole experience. i went back to the dentist today and she stuffed some clove goo into my "dry socket" and like magic, i feel no pain. now the other side of my mouth is starting to hurt and i have to go back. the receptionist advised me to bring a book because there's going to be a long wait. why am i so retarded? there's no way i'm not going, though. after last night's extreme torture i'd rather swallow broken glass than feel "dry socket" again.

hmmm. i think my perogies have been sufficiently over-boiled, so i must now eat them. soft food. . . .

grimace

i want to die. the codeine i've been taking has made me constipated and it's not even killing the pain anymore. i also haven't had a cigarette in 4 days because i want my mouth to heal as quickly as possible. so i'm bunged up and incredibly bitchy. and i am in p a i n. pain. pain. it has become the only thing. i don't know how people with chronic pain issues manage not to kill themselves and/or everyone around them. if i have to hear "you poor thing" one more time, i am going to start stabbing.

i am in hell.

me

this what i look like according to me'shell melvin and her sewing machine.

um, ok

i am aware of the irony

so. i am now 4 less teeth than i used to be. it wasn't so bad, really. the doctor explained what the possible risks and complications are when extracting wisdom teeth. for example: nerve damage that would leave my face slightly lopsided or perhaps my bottom lip would droop slightly in a permanent "mopey-face." or, damage to my sinus cavity, which would prevent me from blowing my nose for a few days. hmmmm. anyway, neither of those things happened. i calmly listened to him explain how he was going to break my teeth apart and gouge them out in bits. normally, i would find this kind of information alarming, likely even panic inducing, but he seemed like he knew what he was doing. i was "sedated" for the procedure rather than put under general anesthetic. the nurses kept calling the sedatives "nice drugs." i was excited to learn more about how the "nice drugs" were going to feel, but after the iv was in all i remember is looking at a print on the wall in front of me and giggling. the next thing i knew the nurse said it was over and i stood up. it's been up and down ever since. only one side of face is swollen and i accidentally pulled out one of the sutures last night. all i've got for the pain are tylenol 3's, which are ok, but they alternately make me wired, grumpy or vaguely stoned. i am not looking forward to going back to work tomorrow.

and right now, i feel it is my duty to warn you about the stupidest book ever published: selected journals of jann arden: i'll tell you one damn thing, and that's all i know! her "inner thoughts" are quite possibly the most inane combination of grossness and schmucky sentimentality i have ever read. don't ask why or how i came to read this horror of a book, but i know more about jann arden than i ever wanted to. really, for her to have the nerve to publish her own journals as though they were of any literary or even "inspirational" value is an indication of a colossal and seriously misguided egotism that ends up sounding painfully hilarious. this is an example of what jann wants to share with the world:

i hope norah jones wins everything at the grammy's. i hope dianna krall wins as well. i hope the world doesn't blow up. i hope people can bear each other for a few thousand more years. i need to repack. i think i heard the doorbell. - p.77

where did christmas come from all of a sudden??? it certainly rushed in like a flood. a period that came two weeks early, if you ask me. and to top it off, you've got white jeans on. well, i do. i always seemed to have white pants on when it really mattered. shit. god help me. i am not sure that is what i wanted to say about christmas. - p.64

yeah. x-mas really is like a rag stain. thanks for clarifying that for me jann. i can relate to you. these are just a few examples-- there are better ones, but they take up too much space. at any rate, publishing your journals just because you're "famous" (are canadian "celebrities" ever really "famous" if they still live in canada?) doesn't make you a profound person or even a good writer. it just serves as a warning to the rest of us who entertain the idea that our peronal journals might be the stuff of literary genius: not likely. journaling is good. it can be the breeding ground for greatness, but generally these kinds of writings are just inane and really should stay private. i got the impression when reading this book that she wrote these journal entries with the idea that she would make them public, which makes it even more hideous. the over done inspirational bits and stupid metaphors involving menstruation, puke and "poop" are idiotic. instead of publishing a book, she should put this crap in a blog like the rest of us. . . i don't expect anyone to pay to read my inane ramblings.

ass teeth

what is with these "blog spammers" in the comments section? i'm not interested in crohn's disease, construction, or the ever popular, but totally irrelevant (to me, that is,) penis enlargement. it's kind of funny, but irritating.

i'm getting all four of my wisdom teeth extracted on sunday. it's going to hurt. i'm only doing it for the drugs, really, so they better give me something good.

slow girl

i got my period today. you have no idea how happy this makes me, even though i had no real reason to think that i wouldn't get my period. you see, now that i'm in a "healthy" relationship (and by "healthy" i mean "not like my other 'relationships'") i have to have something "bad" to obsess over, which has been manifesting as a morbid fear of pregnancy. it would ruin my life, or at least the few days of work i would miss recovering from an abortion. it's weird. this has never been a concern for me (for various reasons that i don't feel like discussing right now. i'm too high to even be writing this, i think.) anyway, m. is just about perfect. things are going swimmingly. and the sex is absolutely stunning. so yeah, i've got to create some sort of weird internal drama just to feel "normal." it's totally fucked up, but it is getting better. slowly.

bloc party rules

goodness. it's been a while since i've been here. i snuck away from work for an hour to get away from the masses and listen to music that doesn't make me want to slit my wrists, and i thought it might be an opportune time to attempt posting again. besides, it was either do this or watch entertainment tonight.

new developments: i started seeing someone who is not a (former) room mate. we like the same things and he thinks i'm funny, which is a major bonus. i have also decided to leave my job. the trick is now to find a new one to go to. and that's about it for major happenings. i'm sure once i start writing regularly again, i'll start picking apart the minutia of my daily life that i find so fascinating. i'm sure you do, too.

i just read my last post, and i swear that is the last time i had a really good interaction with n--. no more of that. ever. again. i was at a poker game a few weekends ago and we made the grievious error of inviting him. it was a bloody nightmare. he yells too much and has no sense of humour. it makes for shitty times indeed. and he's so clueless about it. even attempting to explain to him why when he gets absurdly drunk it sucks, as opposed to when it comes to the rest us, it's merely ridiculous and funny, is an exercise in useless frustration. he just doesn't get it. so it's best to avoid him altogether. and that's my newest personal policy. which also means i won't be discussing him any further (thank fucking god, i'm sure.)

christ. i have to go back to work.

still life

i didn't go to my old room mate's party this weekend. apparently, it was the bash of the century. there was impromptu catering, live music, and a lot of women. and booze and drugs for all those who entered. ah well. i was guilted into going camping instead. i spent a beautiful evening drinking wine and playing boggle by the campfire. a wise decision on my part, i'm sure. my friend insisted i go because her husband was out of town and she was hung over and depressed because he wan't around to fart and make stupid jokes and make her laugh. apparently spending time with me is the only acceptable antidote to those kind of bad feelings. however, on sunday afternoon, my old room mate's (n---) new room mate (m.) invited me over for a cigarette on the stoop. he seemed like he was in need of some fortification before cleaning up the horrid mess from the prior night's festivities, so i drove up the hill to retrieve my dope and came back to roll us up a gagger. he invited me to his room to partake. it was kind of strange being up there. it used to be my room for a long time, but i like what he did with it. we got absurdly stoned while n--- was downstairs with his lady friend. anyways, somehow it happened that i ended up spending the day with n---. he was totally still drunk from the night before (because he was still drinking scotch at noon when i originally came over and didn't stop until we left the house at 3.) i laid out some rules before we left the house: no leaving me stranded anywhere while he chatted up other people (a completely valid rule because he has a habit of doing that and i was so high i could barely function) and no yelling. i got him dressed, then we went out into the world. we started with over-priced coffee. he chastised the barista for talking to her boyfriend when she was supposed to be making my mocha frappe. then we went to the bookstore and picked out a fabulous book for his grand-daughter. then we went to the drugstore to buy a toothbrush. then we went for a late afternoon cocktail. it was great. i told him we make much better neighbours than room mates. then we went back to his place and cuddled up to watch a movie. my room mates invited us over for dinner in the backyard, which was amazing. and then n--- and i retired once again to his bedroom to finish watching the movie. when it was over we mucked around a bit because we were feeling so good about our day together. which was kind of funny because it originally looked like i was going to be spending the day with his room mate, but he passed out upstairs at some point, and was now loudly cleaning things up in the kitchen while n--- was getting me off. ahhh ha ha. (m. now probably thinks i'm a creepy weirdo.) i left right away after that-- i had to be up for work at 6am the next day.

at any rate, these are the boring details of my life. n--- and i appear to have a new understanding/appreciation of each other and it feels good so far. i just have to be careful not to spend too much time over at his house now that i feel comfortable with him again. i've been working on appreciating people that i've been holding grudges against because it's a much better feeling than being angry and hurt. it's not about excusing bad behaviour, it's about forgetting it after all has been said and done. some people get forgotten altogether, but some people get to stay in my life. this new personal policy seems to be working for me, so we'll see how it goes.

boys are stupid

people are weird. i'm weird. but today is fucking gorgeous and i don't care if the shop burns down, i'm not going in to work. my old room mate is having a party tonight and i think i'll go. i went over to his house a few days ago when i was having a nervous breakdown. it was exactly what i needed. i cried on his shoulder for a good ten minutes, then he swiftly moved into action: cocktails and strategizing. i asked him to tell me all the things he liked about me, so that i'd have a bit of ego fortification to keep me going. he likes my sense of style, my emotional vulnerablity, my resiliancy, my sense of humour, and my ass. then we made out. it was nice. i've come to terms with that whole business, so now i can enjoy the benefits of having a friend that i can turn to for solace and a good orgasm when required.

plus, i have the greatest pot in the world right now. it's like doing e.

cum shot to the heart

i nearly had a nervous breakdown this weekend. i've been working like a maniac for the past month and a half because i've been having staffing issues at work. i had to fire someone for the first time because she was a total screw up and didn't show for some shifts. then i hired another girl who was totally on the ball, but she got a better paying job (not hard to do. the wage i was offering was atrociously low, particularly in the job market up here.) she ended up totally screwing me over this weekend by not showing up for her final shifts. i had to fill in the shifts myself, so i've been working several 12 hour days and i'm in the middle of a 12 day stretch right now. the computer program that is the core of the operations of my business went on the blink this weekend as well, and i had to train the new person i hired to replace the girl i hired to replace the girl i fired. essentially, everything has been going very badly at work and i was getting very, very tired. stretched too thin, without any relief in sight. if anything else went wrong i was going to completely lose my mind. i couldn't help worrying that the person i just hired was going to quit because i couldn't offer her enough money for the quality and amount of work i need from her. plus, i had an amazing night with this guy that i met once years ago who was in town for a couple of weeks. i mean, it was really the perfect date. we got really high and saw war of the worlds . then we went down to a lake just outside of town and talked about the meaning of life etc. we got bored of that, so we grabbed a 6 pack and went to a place called miles canyon. it was like being with an old friend, the conversation was easy and fun. he was trying to impress me, the vibe was open and full of the possibility of sex. so we went back to my place. i had my period, so sex was out, but he got me off with one of the best "dry humps" ever. i'm laughing my ass off right now, because "dry hump" is one of the worst phrases ever and it reeks of sweaty, weird highschool nights. none-the-less, it worked in this situation just fine. i reciprocated by giving him the best head i've given in months. he came so hard, cum shot out of my nose. (yeah, i'm laughing even harder now. apparently, my idea of a perfect date involves a tom cruise movie, dry humping and blowing cum out my nose. well, whatever. it's all about the mood of the night, isn't it?) anyway, the next night i went to a little party where he's staying (just happens to be at my best friend's house) and he basically blew me off at the end of the night. his words were: "last night was really fun, but i don't think we should make a habit of this. i don't really know you." you know, not a big deal really, but i had been having such a bad time with work and nothing was going right at all, and then having this great fun time with this guy was like a ray of light bursting through the clouds. a little bit of relief in the midst of the shit. so it's likely that i was expecting too much from him, but still. it really was not good for my confidence, which has been at an all time low for weeks. so, when i had to work on sunday for the chick that didn't show up, i was at the end of how much shitiness i could take. i was so tired i could barely stand. i made up my mind to have a serious conversation with my manager on monday. i was fully prepared to quit if i didn't get the help i needed immediately. what i wanted was a wage increase for my staff so that i'd at least have a hope in hell of retaining them, and i needed to have my computer issues resolved asap. i was not expecting to get either one of those things. i felt like puking while i was writing up a list of points to cover for the meeting. i was shaking because i was sure i was going to come home without a job. i was worried that she was just going to tell me to suck it up, it was hard for everybody. i couldn't have been more wrong. she totally backed me up, and as a result i can pay my staff 2 dollars more an hour and my computer is getting fixed today. it probably helped that i cried, and i know that if i had quit she would have been in a very bad position herself. so yeah, that's what's been going on. i'm leaving out a bunch of other stuff, but i don't have time to write anymore. gotta go to work.

it's ok

well thank god i know how to read. i just spent 65 dollars on books yesterday. better yet, one of the books has useful information about how to live. yes, my friends, i have delved into the world of self help literature. and i am not ashamed. because if there's one thing i know, is that i'll do whatever it takes to feel good. feeling bad is no fun, and i'm tired of it. so. . . .

what i want: more love, more confidence, a car, more money, a general sense of well-being, more power, more creativity, more security, to shine like a big bright star, to be magnetically beautiful, to reclaim my intelligence, to be healthy.

and that's just what i can think of now. and i don't see a good goddamn reason why i can't have everything i want. so that's that. wish me luck.

whoop-a dee-doooooo

well. i'm back. i haven't felt like i had the time or personal space to start posting since moving into my new digs, but you know, fuck it. i've got things to say.

for example, it's not exactly been sweet relief since i moved out of my old place. the new roomies are great, but for some reason my mental state has been, well, unsettled. in fact, i'm considering going back on medication. life seems like a long fall into bad right now. i'm constantly uncomfortable. i'm constantly vigilant. my body is like twisted wire. my shoulders hurt so much. i want so badly to feel normal again. the party is over it seems.

i've been trying to treat myself gently. but, for some reason, i can't seem to stop being an idiot. i feel like i'm in a box with only my past. just me, in a tight dark space with my heavy wet breath, and my past up to the last second it happened. and there is no future that does not contain this moment. it's unbelievable, really. i can't seem to finesse my way out of this one. i'm fucking tired. and i want someone to take over. i want someone to come to me, put me to bed, kiss my forehead, and tell me exactly what i need to hear. but, i don't know what that is. and, also, i know that i'm the only one i can count on to do that for me. god. listen to me. i should tell you, i'm really drunk and high right now. which is exactly the wrong state for me to be in. however, here i am. surprise.

i've been experiencing an intense state of anxiety for the past month and a half. i dread, dread, dread this summer. i dread every responsiblity that i have. i feel incompetent. i feel scared. every day is like a what-if of disaster. i feel alone in this stupid life i've created for myself. i thought it would be better here. where has my magic transformation gone?

christ. i have really missed this. my forum for self-pity. letting it all out in this public/private space.

butt reactions

well. here i am. i haven't really had the time or the inclination to post anything for awhile, but today i'm far, far away from where i live. someone is making coffee and porridge for me, and there's good music on the stereo. so it seems like the right time to start writing again.

i'm on holiday in the city where i came from. it's been pretty stressful so far because i think i've been forcibly repressing some intense feelings and now it's manifesting in anxiety attacks and obsessive thoughts and behaviours. for example: i'm obsessed with the idea that i'm losing my hair. i also fell down the stairs today.

and i don't live with him anymore. i don't know what to call him now since he's not my room mate. it got a bit shitty near the end. i was having a hard time "being cool" but it's over now. i haven't spoken to him or seen him since i came back to the house the day after i moved out to pick up a library book i forgot. i was startled to see one of my friends sitting on the couch. jazz was playing on the stereo and he was obviously drunk. i stuttered my way to the book and out the door as quickly as possible and i've been studiously avoiding him ever since. i don't even want to talk about him. i don't walk past his house. i don't look out my window. if people try to tell me what he's up to, i tell them i don't want to hear it. i thought it was necessary to close myself off like that in order to move forward and prevent myself from getting stuck on pointless, obsessive thinking about him (like, what is he doing? why doesn't he want to do that with me? whose car is that? are they fucking? etc.) it seemed important to establish a strong boundary that way immediately, since i live right next door. and it was working. but all that tension has to have an outlet. and now i'm a bit of a basket case.

it's ok though. i just have to deal with it. and when i get back home i'll be so busy with work, and settling in with my new room mates, it won't be too difficult to sort out what's important to think about and what's just self defeating bullshit.

serenity now

i'm still pissed. i just want to get the fuck out of here. i want to paint my new room, move my stuff and get this shit over with.

she left before midnight. i finally went to bed and listened to my music just loud enough that he could hear it, but couldn't say anything about it. then i tossed and turned for hours, listening to the mice chewing up the floorboards. god, this house is so toxic. ok. one more cigarette, then it's time to stop bitching and get to work. one of my new room mates left a message for me last night informing me that painting today might be out of the question. "plans have changed." there's a bunch of shit in my room that they (we) need to move out of there before i can do anything. i'll move it myself. because i need things to work the way i want them to today.

i can't believe how angry i am. i need to calm down before i start acting like an idiot instead of just posting it here.

n--- sucks ass

i am fucking l i v i d. the room mate is having movie night with his stupid "date." downstairs. in his bedroom. that fuck. he came up here at the beginning of the evening. right after i came home from work to see her ugly fucking minivan parked in front of our house, and then see her all cozy in her sweats and hair up, playing video games in his bedroom while he was having a shower. he just got back into town today, and this is not the situation i was anticipating. how can he not be aware of how potentially upsetting this is for me? i've been in love with this man for over a year. and now he expects me to be ok witnessing him be with someone else. in our house. i'm still fucking here, asshole. anyway, he came up here to talk to me. ask me if there was anything he needed to know, if anything important happened while he was away. "oh, by the way, we're just watching a movie, you know. nothing's really going on." great. good for fucking you.

things have been going so well for me for the last week or two. i've been coping, thriving even. relishing the changes and looking forward to something much better than this. and. now. this. jesus christ. one week. just one week left. why are you doing this to me? why can't you just let me leave in peace? i hate you so much. you deserve nothing from me. i hope you have to move away because you can't afford to live here by yourself. because no one will live here except me. and i'm leaving. fuck you.

what the hell am i going to do tonight? when is she going to leave? i can't keep watching "sex and the city" over and over again. god, no. fuck. fuck. fuck. i hate feeling trapped in my own goddamn house. i never want to feel like this again. i am going to do everything in my power to never let this happen again. there is nothing funny or enriching about this experience. i've had enough. god, he's such a fucking cunt.

i just went into my bedroom and stomped around a bit, slammed a few drawers. i feel slightly better now that i've had a tantrum. or more angry. which also feels good.

three times a lady

one week left and then i'm out of here, all the way. . . next door. i'm excited to be living with women. i've been hanging out with them a little bit, just to get the "vibe" and whatnot. seems good. supportive and a little more sane than what i'm used to. however, it's still going to feel strange not to be here anymore. my current identity is very much tied to this place and the experiences i've had here. c'est la vie. time to figure out a new way to be. one thing is certain, though: i'm doing the right thing (finally.) it feels like i've been holding my breath for a year and a half, and the prospect of being able to let it all out and relax is exciting. who knows what might happen after that.

i'm also oddly excited at the prospect of visiting my friends and family down south in april. it'll be so nice to be around people who have nothing to do with my life here, but are still so much a part of who i am. plus, it's going to be a real holiday with no responsibilities hanging over my head. there will be enough of that waiting for me this summer. it's unfortunate that i work in an industry that's centred around the summer months. however, i've generally found a way to have as much fun as possible anyway. it often feels like a precarious, one second away from catastrophe kind of thing. but, maybe that's just me.

i saw my neighbour last night. he was out of town for a few days, and i was so relieved to see his big, black truck in front of his house when i was walking home from work. i marched right over with a half bottle of wine and plenty of cigarettes. the evening proceeded as it usually does: much drinking, smoking pot and lots of talking. he took a bunch of photographs of me because i wanted a portrait. if you haven't guessed already, i'm very, very interested in myself, so for the last couple of years the idea of having different portraits of myself (especially by people i know) has become more and more compelling. anyway, he took a series of photos, and i hated almost all of them. not because he's a bad photographer (he is, in fact, an excellent, even inspired, photographer) but i really am not photogenic. plus, i always want to look smaller than i actually am. i remember when i got really fat, i couldn't bear to look at pictures of myself because it was so alienating. i know that's terrible, because being fat is not a crime. but, god, it sure feels like it. especially when you're not comfortable with your body to begin with. i thought i'd be over this bullshit by this point in my life, but, no. and on top of that, i still get zits. at any rate, we saved one of the pictures, and what makes it great is that i'm moving, so everything else in the frame is static except me. i'm just a grinning blur. he e-mailed it to me so i could send it to my friend shaeya. he met her when she came to visit last summer, and he thought she was "neat." i think she's "neat," too, so it seemed like a fun thing to show her. (shaeya, check your e-mail. you too, jason.)

last winter my neighbour, room mate and i had a "menage-a-trois." i was a bit astounded by the fact that my neighbour would be interested in doing that with us, given the fact that my room mate is not so secretly in love with him, and my neighbour is very much not into that whatsoever. it was an amazing experience at the time, even though my neighbour was so drunk (and looking back on this, probably weirded out by my room mate) that he could not have an erection. he did, however, perform other "duties" with much enthusiasm, of which i received the full benefit. the whole episode seemed very "organic" and spontaneous. i even recall asking my room mate the next day if this was a "planned event" in some way, because it almost seemed a bit too easy. he said "no." apparently, it was just one of those things that happened, end of story. he even seemed marginally grateful to me that i was the "catalyst" that allowed him to be in the same bed, naked with our neighbour. but, i learned last night that those two had discussed the possibility beforehand. my room mate suggested it, of course. but, they had, in fact, anticipated that i would be receptive, and then created a situation where it could happen. i am so naive sometimes. but i'm not really surprised. and i'm not upset, either. just a little perplexed that i didn't have enough insight to understand how that experience originated. funnily enough, my formative sexual experiences more often than not involved more than one person at a time. i always thought that was a strange way to begin my sexual life, but then again, i felt a lot less pressure than if i was in a "one-on-one" situation. maybe that's weird. i don't really know why it ended up that way, but it did. and now here i am, a sexually curious person, but with a lot of hang ups at the same time. does my emotional response to men have anything to do with that stage of my development? and, if so, how?

i wanted to know why my neighbour decided to do that. why would he get into bed with a man he doesn't want anything to do with sexually? (by the way, they didn't touch each other. it was all about "touching" me. totally fun.) he said he did it so my room mate would stop talking about it. he was curious, of course. he's lived a lot longer than i have, had way more craziness in his life than i have, yet he has very little regret about anything. i admire that immensely.

the trashy snowglobe

so vancouver was a trip. a little nerve wracking for sure, but good times were had. that's about all i'm going to say about it because i'm really high right now and it has just started snowing. like just this second. and i thought spring was really here. fuck.

i had to walk all over the bloody city today to get blinds, a full length mirror and paint for my new home. purple paint for the bedroom. it's all for my bedroom, really, because the other rooms in the house are already painted and furnished. i am going to be living with two lesbians. this should be a fun summer.

god. i don't even know why i'm bothering to continue writing. my forehead is like two inches from the keyboard.

self absorbed

so i'm off to vancouver tomorrow morning. i went out for a quick drink tonight with a girlfriend and saw my friend "pipes." he offered to drive me to the airport at 7 am. he's a super guy, but he was pretty hammered, so we'll see. i'm hoping this trip is going to be both productive (in terms of work) and a shit show (because of wendy) at the same time. i need it all right now.

i went over to my neighbour's house last night to pick up some toilet paper in exchange for cigarettes (don't ask.) and my room mate was there, very drunk. so i got really high, and started mouthing off a bit. but, when i do it, it comes out as really dry sarcasm, which i disguise as my "sense of humour." sometimes i don't even realize i'm doing it until i get the reaction. he was going on about "who's the next room mate going to be? who could possibly come after this?" kind of thing. and "the day after you decided to leave, you found a new place. how does that happen?" blah blah blah. i said, "look. i'm a pretty resourceful person. and so are you. it'll be fine. everything will work out." there was a pause, we had a drink, and then i said, "but, the difference is, people actually like me." another pause. my neighbour thought that was pretty funny, my room mate didn't. but, in general, everything was civil, even friendly. i made a joke about still having my shirt on after coming out of the bathroom. for some reason, i assumed my neighbour told my room mate about "topless dancing night," but he hadn't. so my room mate was confused and wanted to know why i said that. my neighbour cut that conversation short with a "you don't want to know." good call. it's none of his business, but i secretly wanted to rub it in his face. thank god, my neighbour knows better.

and then my room mate left, and i decided to hit on my neighbour again. not quite so successful as the last time. we talked about what happened. he said that we're never going to take those drugs together again. my orgasm and his erection were a bit too much for him i think. i babbled some crap about how i "get it." i "understand the boundaries" blah, blah, blah. and really, that's just my line, i've noticed. i'll say just about anything to get what i want, even the truth. but. but, i'm scared that i'm going to fall in love with him now. that would be just my style, you know. fuck myself over with one guy and then glom onto the guy who's "been there" for me. i'm such a dork. and it's totally not fair to my neighbour. i think he's completely aware of my "m.o." at least on some level. sleeping with me would end up a very messy situation. because, of course, i would get too emotionally attached to him in the wrong way, for the wrong reasons. which is a shame, because, seceretly, i think we'd make a great couple. however, it is not to be. he's another man i'm attracted to that is not available to me. i just can't stop being an idiot.

and, finally, i told my girls about "topless dancing night," and i don't know why i was worried. the reactions were, "good for you" and "what! i can't believe you did that! you are such a freak. . . good for you." so now i can stop making such a big deal out of it, and be quietly thankful that i am the way i am.

one more thing. i'm paranoid that the people i'm going to be moving in with have decided they don't want to live with me, and they're just waiting for the "right time" to let me know. this has been a persistent source of anxiety, and i don't know why. they have given me absolutely no indication that this will happen. the opposite, in fact. but, i can't help thinking that it was just too easy, that i'm a bit too smug about how "people like me" and that karma is going to kick me in the ass. i'll be the one left scrambling. worry, worry, worry is all i ever do, it seems. oh well. whatever happens, i always land on my feet (there i go again, being smug.)

what good curves can you throw?

coming to terms with my own "eccentricities" is a mystifying process. i keep surprising myself. it's scary and weird, but "liberating" and kind of funny at the same time. this is how i dealt with my stress last night:

i came home from work depressed and tired. my room mate wasn't here and i didn't really feel like sitting around waiting to see what time he came home, so i went over to my neighbour's house. an aquaintance of mine was there as well-- i'll call him "rick." (the cheesey porn name seems to fit him. he's a drummer.) i sat down at the table and sighed without realizing it. immediately my neighbour wanted to know what was up. he knows shit's been going down and he wanted to know what was bothering me exactly. he thought i could benefit from a male perspective. so, i let it all out after a little prodding. that was good. it was actually pretty funny and helpful. my neighbour is excellent for insights and attitude adjustments, and "rick" was the perfect counterpoint to that. his line was basically i "deserved what i got." i can appreciate that point of view, particularly since i know he really has no investment in me one way or the other. besides, it made for some excellent "guffaw moments." of course, we were drinking and smoking pot. the only thing my neighbour had left was bailey's, which we drank over ice in wine goblets. but, just for fun, we also snorted a few lines of a coke/ecstasy cocktail. i was a bit unsure whether that was a good idea, given my "sensitive emotional state" of late, but what the hell, right? things got a bit strange after that. after "rick" went on a beer run, the conversation became centred around how cool it would be if we threw some burning logs on the table and i danced around naked. ha ha funny, you know? but then, i started thinking, and we started negotiating. i suddenly wanted very much for these men to see me. i wanted to know what they thought about what they were looking at. so i said, "what if i came out of the bathroom topless?" they, of course, were very receptive to this suggestion. i had to explain to them about the issues i have with my body and how this was going to be weird for me, i just got my period today, blah, blah, blah, etc. they were like "whatever. it's ok. we like real women, etc." so i did it. it was the strangest exhileration. i came out into the candle lit room (they thoughtfully felt that would be a more comfortable, initmate environment for me.) i stood there a bit awkwardly, did a few poses, a model turn and then i realized that i was half naked in front of two men and i didn't know what to do with it. the closest i've ever been to a similar experience was when i did a topless monologue years ago for my friend jason in is mother's basement. but, he's gay, so, you know, not much to fear there, even though it was exhilerating in it's own way. anyway, i went back into the bathroom, put my shirt back on and came out to applause. oh, they also critiqued me, at my request, while i was exposing myself. "nice breasts. really great." and "well, you could use somemore work at the gym, but still pretty appealing." it didn't matter whether they were just "being nice" or not. i think we all understood what i was looking for in this situation: validation and a sense of empowerment. and i'm not unaware that their main objective was to see some tits. it worked for all of us. but, they also wanted to see me "own it," so to speak. they wanted to see me feeling sexy rather than shy. and, you know, i wanted them to feel that way. i wanted permission to take it a bit further. after all, empowerment through a distorted form of objectification is what i wanted, right? so, i put on a bit of a show for the boys. still just topless, but full-on touching myself, eye contact, moving fluidly to the music, sensuality. i turned it on. and they loved it. i loved it. i couldn't get over how bizarre this all was. it was a "big deal" in a lot of ways. i really do have alot of "self-image" issues, and exposing my body is not something i do very often at all. i don't even own a bathing suit. but i don't feel bad about this experience. and i don't think i should, either. the whole mood of the night was open and electric. i know booze and drugs facilitated what we created, but that's what we use them for. it struck me again last night, that i don't know another woman like me. none of my friends would ever do something like that. and i know showing my tits to a couple of guys when i'm trashed, in itself, does not neccesarily mean i'm "special." women often put themselves in similar situations for terrible, painful reasons with unfortunate emotional or physical consequences. but, i was in control. even though i did it because i was responding to their desire to see it, i wanted to do it for my own reasons, ones that had nothing to do with theirs. and there's still the possibility that i'll feel bad about it at some point in the future. i think about things a lot, so it's my nature to change my initial feelings about something after analyzing it to death. but, so what? it's part of my process. plus, i really don't think i will end up regreting it. i'm learning that everything i do is for a specific reason, and if that's what i want to do at the time, there's no sense in regeting it later.

"rick" eventually left, and i was flush with desire for my neighbour after my little show, with all the drugs and alcohol coursing through my veins. of course, we "made out" before he gently insisted that i go home. it was so blissful in that moment to be touched by this man, to feel his desire, his tongue, his response. i had a very intense orgasm. my neighbour and i have our own pleasantly strange dynamic, which involves a certain amount of resistance to me sexually on his part. and i think that's good. i don't feel insulted by his boundaries. he tempers every interaction with me with a certain amount of care and respect, something i couldn't get from my room mate ( i don't neccessarily blame him for this, by the way.) my neighbour allows and encourages me to be who i am without feeling ashamed of it. it's what he looks for in people.

so there. i haven't told any of my girlfriends about it yet. there are two women with whom i am very close to here, and whenever anything of note happens in my life, they hear about it from me. my life is amusing and crazy to them. however, i'm not sure how they are going to react to this. i'm concerned they're going to feel like they should be worrying about me. that i was "acting out" in an "unhealthy" manner. maybe these are my own fears for myself creeping through the euphoria of doing something out of the ordinary. if it is, it seems natural to explore that too. i want to celebrate not being "ordinary." i want to fumble my way through.

living with a million people

alright. i feel a little bad regarding that bitchy comment i made at the end of my last post about how my room mate probably wanted to fuck his house guests. i stand by the assertion that this is generally a safe assumption, however, in this particular instance, i would hope that it was doubtful. my room mate was on suicide watch for the young man, working with various other agencies (rcmp, mental health services, etc.) and trying to provide support for the young man's partner. they're not here anymore, and i really hope they're going to be ok. i talked to my room mate about it last night because i wanted to know why he needed to keep a shotgun at our neighbour's house for safe-keeping. we ended up having a fairly positive exchange. i was concerned about his capacity for taking on the responsibility of another person's will to live.

i've lost 5 pounds in one week. it's called the "sick to my stomach from anxiety" diet. my room mate went out for coffee and a woman just called for him a minute ago. i think it was "her." i was feeling pretty good until then. i was actually thinking yesterday that it was a "good" sign that she hasn't really been calling him, and that he's been busy with his friend's issues, and work and everything else that he was doing instead of having sex. i know this is awful. i'm awful. and now nothing else matters except how i feel. specifically about tonight. saturday is prime date night, and if he goes out with her, i'm going to be spending hours on the toilet. why am i like this? jealousy has suddenly taken over my entire life. and all for a man that i know is not mine, nor should he be. i think it's pretty obvious that i experience jealousy so strongly because i don't feel comfortable or accepting of who i am. i have low self-esteem, and i suspect that i don't feel deserving of love. that's it. that is how i live my life: as though i don't deserve to be loved. i'm too fat, ugly, hairy, stupid, needy. i close myself off to most men. the few that i let in are sure to be completely unavailable to me in some way. that seems to be the pattern. why? my parents loved me. my childhood was not particularly horrible. i've never been raped or physically abused by any male "authority figures" in my life. and, you know, it doesn't even matter why i'm like this. it could be for any number of reasons with a million variables culled from the day to day psychic assault that is an accummulated life. what matters is that i find a way to be something else other than this mass of self loathing. i need to find a way to take care of myself. i want to be able to rely on myself to feel good about who i am. it's exhausting getting knocked around like this because of how i perceive others perceiving me. i don't want to feel like dying everytime someone i want doesn't want me. i don't want to hate myself because i'm not getting what i need emotionally from other people. i want to be able to give myself what i need. i just don't know how to do that.

there's even more

for me, emotional distress is like a cleanse, or more accurately, colonic irrigation. i know it's gross, but i'm going to talk about it anyway. when i'm really upset, i shit up a storm. last night i went over to my neighbour's house and got totally wasted, played nascar racing games and had a late steak dinner. it was nice, and when i left i was exhausted so i thought i'd finally just pass out and get some sleep. not so. i tossed and turned anxiously. then at around 1:30 am the phone rang. i heard my room mate getting directions and then he left the house. i assumed it was a booty call from "miss thursday night fuck." my guts clenched, then twisted horribly. my immediate physical reaction was accute nausea and severe diarreah. did i spell that right? you'd think i'd know because i seem to be really interested in my bowel's activities. at any rate, it was bad, bad, bad. just because he left in the middle of the night. it was especially upsetting because i had a conversation with him on sunday night about what i need from him in order not to go completely insane this month. i was very clear about the fact that i do not want him fucking anyone in this house until i am gone. i need that. and i needed him to say that i could count on it. well, trying to get this man to understand my feelings in the face of his need to be "free" is difficult to say the least. but, i finally made my point in terms that he could accept. you might think it's unfair of me to ask for something like that, but i don't. trust me, after living here for a year and a half with a man who never once asked me anything about my past, my interests, or my "issues" when i knew all of those things about him in detail because that's all he ever talked about, i don't feel bad about putting my feelings first for a change. it's neccesary for us both for me to experience the minimum of stress while i'm here, because i've discovered that accute jealousy is the one thing that could totally crack me up.(that, and lack of sleep.) and the idea that he was going out to fuck someone turns out to be just as upsetting as listening to it. however, he came back around 3:30 am with two friends (a couple) who needed someplace to stay. i heard a female voice when he came in the house, and i immediately jumped out of bed, threw on some clothes and went downstairs, ready for a fight. i suddenly did not care a teeny, tiny bit about how crazy i might look, or how embarassing it would be. i totally hate conflict of any kind, particularly when it comes to my feelings, so that kind of behaviour is not typical of me at all. thank god i didn't open my mouth before i realized what the situation actually was. they're still here, which is kind of annoying, but whatever. they're all watching tv in my room mate's bed. how cozy. i know he wants to fuck them both. i'm not being paranoid, i just know how this man thinks.

later that day. . .

alright. i have to admit that i didn't go to the gym, but i did find a new place to live, so i figure i deserve a break. there's a little catch, though, to the potential new living arrangements, and that is it's right next door. hmmmm. . . . is that ok? it's certainly the most convenient from a moving standpoint. and i'll also be able keep the excellent neighbourhood. and the new room mates are calm, sensible pot smoking members of society. the only real problem is that it's so close. i'm trying to get away, right? however, my friends tina and dan lived in that house for the better portion of the time i've been living here, and i managed to almost completely ignore their existence, until i realized that the i/we're sooooo busy excuse was just stupid. and then they moved to montreal. c'est la vie. at any rate, i know i'm a little emotional right now, and everything seems uncomfortable and weird mostly because, frankly, i'm a little bit of an uncomfortable, weird person. and a little sensitive. it's not like i'm breaking up with a boyfriend or anything, but it feels exactly like that's what's happening.

at any rate, i can live there if i want to, so there's a little less pressure. first day of the month and i've already got a new home to go to. wow, i'm good. frantic emotional desperation is great for bringing out my resourceful side.

so. i feel a little better, but that could change any second. so be careful. . .

bad day, really

i feel like i want to die. i'm having trouble keeping it together. i'm certainly having trouble being funny. i'm trying to go to the gym, but i can't get out the door. i need to get a newspaper and start looking for a new home, but i'm scared to because i don't want to see his ad for a new room mate. i'm here alone now and i have no one to talk to. i can't stop crying. i can't stop hating myself for letting this happen. i can't get rid of this horrible, empty, sick feeling in my gut. i feel so stupid and pathetic. i can't afford to be a complete mess like this all month. i have to find a place to live, i have to go to vancouver on business, i have to send my nephew a birthday card and none of this seems remotely possible right now. i can't even have a shower without falling apart. he has seen none of this and i loathe the possibility that he will.

ok. fuck this. i've had worse for better reasons. i'm going to the gym now. and then i'm going to get a goddamn newspaper and continue my day even though i feel like i'm being suffocated by this tight wet blanket of fear.

here we go

alright. big day today. i gave my month's notice to my room mate. this has been a long time coming but i kept putting it off, making excuses, waiting for something to happen, and it finally did. he came home thursday night with a woman. i could not bare to lay in my bed and listen to them having sex 6 feet below me. i wanted to die. it felt like i was going to. all the smug assumptions i had about how no woman would be stupid/crazy/desperate enough to sleep with this man except me were blown to bits. it was all fine and good for me to wise up and realize that i wasn't in love with him anymore. it was all very amusing to be flippant about the way i live my life and how silly it must seem. it really didn't feel very amusing the other night. at 2 am i took a cab to my friend's house and i've been there until today, excepting the 10 minutes i spent here yesterday grabbing an overnight bag. we did not say a word to each other. but, i thought i should be a big girl, come home and express my feelings like an adult. it went about as well as i expected. i'm going back to my friend's house tonight, go to work tomorrow and do all the shit i was supposed to do on friday when i called in sick, and then come home again and try to make the next month as painless as possible for the both of us. i don't hate him. how can i? i walked right into this whole clusterfuck with my eyes wide open.

i'm not going to describe the ugly, stupid details of how fucked up i feel or what we said to each other. i didn't cry. not even that night. i am relieved that i was forced to do something i should have done months ago. and i am very, very sad that words never seem to be enough between people.

oh my god. i think i just spoke to the woman he slept with on the phone. jesus fucking christ. the next month is going to be unbelievably hard.

no sex for you

kids do not belong at the gym. particularly those little shits whose asshole parents think when their kids don't listen, it's charming that little jonny is "asserting his independence." hey kid, take your tonka truck and your blankie and fuck off. take your mom with you.

moving on. there's a film crew right outside my house. they're filming a geographically specific situation comedy, so i guess they're actually a television crew. my original plan was to sit in my front yard drinking scotch and smoking pot until the director got annoyed with my drunken commentary. if they asked me to go inside, i was going to make them give me a hundred dollars before i moved an inch. unfortunately, i have to work, so i'll have to be obnoxious there for today.

my room mate and i just had a brief conversation. basically, no more sex. the other night my neighbour jokingly said that he would take care of my psychological development/needs and my room mate can take care of the physical end of things. i shared this with my room mate and his response was "i'm not doing that anymore. it's too confusing and just messes things up." i said, "it's ok. my feelings have changed about that anyway." and they have. i'm not in love with him anymore. a real relationship with my room mate is an impossibility. however, i am sadly going to miss getting royally fucked by this man. we've had similar conversations before, and we've always ended up screwing our brains out at some point anyway, but i'm going to try not to count on it this time. plus, i'm still going to have to deal with the sexual jealousy. and it's still not going to be ok to have to witness him trying to make it with other people. so, i'm just going to have to grit my teeth, be celibate for a while, and we'll see what happens.

it would be really great if i met the love of my life today. that would take care of a lot of problems.

no soup for you

i've got the biggest fucking headache in the world right now. i just had the longest day that essentially ended with a burlesque cabaret. i say "essentially" because i guess the day isn't technically over and the cabaret is. but we're finally nearing the end, just this last gasp to go. enjoy.

no. no. no more. just can't do it. too tired. goodnight.

the small pancake

well the new friend date went swimmingly. she will definitely get a "callback." i even got totally drunk while she remained sober (she had to drive) and i didn't make an ass of myself (at least i don't think so.) i often drink too much or smoke pot before i go on first dates of any kind because i'm nervous. and i usually end up acting erratically, stupidly, or weird. i felt comfortable in this situation, so, in this case, that was the green light to relax, throw back some bourbon and get to know each other. we even hugged at the end of the night. sometimes the company of women is the only thing that really makes everything ok.

on top of that, i had a most helpful and enlightening conversation with my neighbour last night. i've been feeling very out of sorts lately, even though i'm doing all sorts of things that should be making me feel better, like going to the gym, smoking and drinking less, spending less money, taking care of hair removal issues, etc. but, i've been angry. almost out of control angry in a way that manifests in outlandishly hateful reactions to people. i don't publicly freak out or anything. i don't even yell at my friends, or my room mate. it's all happening in my head and it shows as a general grumpy moodiness. meanwhile, i want to kill everyone i see. my neighbour pointed out that everything i think about other people is really a reflection of myself. simple enough. i know that already. but, he went on to expand the point. i've been getting pissed off at people because they don't react the way i want them to, or at the very least, i expect people to react a certain way and sometimes they do, and sometimes they don't. he said that if i just accepted the fact that i don't know what other people are thinking, and stop trying to predict their behaviour based on my own thoughts and behaviours (because that is the only way anyone can possibly perceive other people) i would be free of a lot of bullshit. in essence, i could do whatever i wanted, say whatever i wanted, be whoever i wanted, because i wouldn't have to worry about what the reaction was going to be. if i accept the idea that i have no clue what people are thinking about me, then i can't base my actions on their possible reactions. i know this sounds like a pretty basic revelation. i've thought about it before and even read about similar ideas, etc. but for some reason, the whole progression and timing of the conversation was exactly right. he said it's obvious that i'm getting ready for a change. i'm pissed off all the time because something is not right and it needs to be fixed. the "self improvements" that i've been doing are actually complementary to the anger-- they are not the solution (as i was first perceiving them,) but a symptom. and it's good, even though it feels uncomfortable right now. needless to say, i'm a little scared of the implications.

my neighbour explained how living with the knowledge of the only thing you really know is yourself has played out in his life, and it made perfect sense. the whole conversation totally opened me up again. i just needed someone to clarify things for me, and i think that's why it made such an impact. he said a bunch of stuff that made sense, actually. it was surprising. and half the conversation was really about how i relate to my room mate, even though neither of us actually said it.

shit. i have to go to work now.

harder please

so i'm going on a new friend date tonight. this is my least favorite part of friendships: the beginning. the first time i hang out alone with the (potential) new friend is always the deal breaker for me. if it doesn't go well the first time, i usually don't bother pursuing it. it wasn't always like that, but as i get older i'm a lot more selective with who i spend time with (not that i have particularly high standards or anything.) but, this should be ok.

i had a super shitty day yesterday, so i slept over at a friend's house. a change of pace and scenery seems to go a long way to setting me straight again. my room mate can be annoying, especially when he doesn't do what i want. i'm becoming a grumpy bitch. at least it's a beautiful day.

i named my kid std

i think i have an overactive guilt gland or something. it seems to be located in my ass, because as soon as i feel guilt, i have to shit. it's weird. i admitted to someone at work today that i once or twice took a pack of cigarettes from the shop and paid for them the next day when i had cash. now i'm paranoid that i'm going to get fired. and i only did it twice because i felt so guilty about it. i can only spend so much time in the bathroom, you know. maybe it's not guilt, just a fear of getting caught that i find so distressing. at any rate, the "feeling" i get from doing "bad" things (ie. abusing my "position" at work, lying, cheating, stealing, hurting small animals, etc.) generally prevents me from doing most "bad" things. however, i have a very strange and selective idea of what i would constitute as "bad" behaviour. drinking to excess and doing stupid shit in that context is generally ok. but, not at work. taking drugs and doing even dumber shit is ok-- but, not at work. getting drunk, taking drugs and sleeping with my room mate is ok-- but, again, not at work. you get the idea. stealing, cheating and hurting small animals is never a good idea, even if on my own time. and lying, well, that's a grey area. i sometimes do it, but i always feel shitty about it. exaggerating the truth doesn't count. and you guessed it, i don't do it at work.

i generally despise women's magazines. unfortunately, they're extremely fun to read, so if i feel like i need a self loathing "i'm too fat to live, i will never be as successful, beautiful, rich, etc. as the glossy people" fix, i buy jane magazine. i can at least relate to the writing a bit. anyway, they have a monthly feature called "it happened to me" and if they print your story, you get a thousand dollars (in US funds!) i have several "it happened to me" stories that would make for great reading, and a thousand US dollars would be a great way to start my summer. unfortunately, i am a habitual procrastinator, so even though it would be easy to write a short ditty about some hilarious/tragic episode in my life, i may not actually get around to doing it. it would mean not only writing the thing, but editing, printing and possibly mailing it (i refuse to e-mail writing submissions to anyone. only because i always fuck it up.) why does this seem like a huge task to me? i can't be that pathologically lazy, can i? we'll see. however, i love that i naturally assume it would get published if i sent it. i mean, come on, have you read those things?but, there was this really good one where the author got a moth lodged in her ear just as she was about to kick the shit out of someone. that was a good story.

arse

life is just so exhausting. my job is so boring, sometimes i just want to slit my wrists. i need to go "outside."(that's what we call the rest of the world here.) thankfully, i've got a couple of trips coming up, although one of them doesn't really count because i'm going back to my "hometown" and it was outrageously disappointing the last time i went. excepting the fun i had with my "peeps," the place holds no allure whatsoever. bland, vaguely uncomfortable crapulence. did i spell "crapulence" correctly? who cares. the other trip is for business, which seems totally hilarious to me, not only because it's for business, but because it's also completely paid for. which, i guess, is how business trips generally work. i'm sure you've already assumed that i've never been on one before, and you would be right. should be a "hoot," particularly because i've got a friend in that city i haven't seen in years, and we've got a lot of debaucherous catching up to do. counting down the days. (p.s. wendy: i can't go completely insane because i actually do need to get my "work" done. i don't want to totally fuck up my first business trip, you know. however, i'm well practiced at staying up all night getting shitfaced and going to work the next day, so we should be alright.)

my neighbour just called. he drank a bottle of scotch and now he's taking his dog for a walk. such a good man. i say that because he was totally slurring and everything. i can't even be bothered to wash my face when i'm that drunk. he wanted to leave a message for my room mate: don't come over-- i'm going to bed. my room mate will be disappointed because he's in love with our neighbour. i love my soap opera life.

i think someone is stealing our mail.

pour vous, wendy

i had comp tickets for a music festival this weekend, but i decided to volunteer in the hospitality lounge for the performers instead. i felt that would be more entertaining, and i was right. i like bartending- you're in control of the liquor and you can say almost anything you want to the clientele. plus, i got to find out which of the musicians are assholes in real life.

i have decided that i'm not in love with my room mate anymore. it's impossible to be in love with someone who resists me that much. completely futile and stupid. i see evidence of it everyday-- his complete indifference to who i actually am and what i was offering to him. it doesn't make me angry anymore, just sad that i can't inspire any more in him than a bit of sexual release. i still want to fuck him though, and i'm wondering if that was all it ever was. i also wanted to be the most important thing in his life and it was clear i would never even come close. but the sex is generally phenomenal (when it happens) and i think i got a bit confused about what that means: not much to him, and a lot to me. i made a half assed attempt to seduce him last night and as soon as i kissed him, he got that kind of knowing smirky smile, because he knows exactly what i want, and i just couldn't bring myself to continue. oddly enough, though, we have become friends over the course of our co-habitation, and he can appreciate our relationship on that level most of the time. it's a weird situation. everything seems weird when i think about it. i go through my life as though everything i say and do is "normal" until someone says or does something that reminds me it's not. i like it when that happens, because then i know i'm probably doing something right even if i'm doing everything wrong.

so that's my little emotional revelation for the day. i already masturbated, so the rest of the day is wide open until i go back to the hospitality lounge to serve alcohol to egotistical musicians and the people who love them.

no place like home

so around 5:30 this morning i woke up to this weird noise. it sounded like french fries just when they're dumped in the deep fryer at A&W. it didn't seem right. i got up and there was an odd smell coming from from the heating vent in my room. so i went downstairs and discovered that the hot water pipe had burst in the laundry room. water was spraying everywhere and it was coming into the kitchen. i woke up my room mate who was sleeping soundly 2 feet away from the waterpark that had been developing for god knows how long. he called the downstairs neighbour (susan) to get her to shut off the water valve, but her daughter answered the phone and said that she was sleeping. well, no fucking kidding. so were we, until we realized that we had a serious problem. my room mate went downstairs and shut it off because they couldn't figure out how to do it. for some reason the furnace decided to stop working at about the same time this was all going on. i think susan shut it off by mistake when she was mucking around with the water valve. at any rate we've been without water and heat since this morning. no fun. the heat is back on, but the house reeks of oil.

the plumber is now here. i can hardly wait to have a shower.

i was supposed to go dog sledding this morning, but i really can't do anything unless i'm able to shit and shower beforehand, so i guess it'll have to wait. plus, it's fucking cold outside:-45 C. plus, i'm exhausted and hung over. at least it's sunny outside.

i went to a concert last night. an aquaintance had an extra comp ticket so he invited me along. neither of us was really familiar with the band. i really didn't enjoy it that much--the guitarist was being a total anal bitch. she kept giving direction to the sound guy:"more of my guitar in the main sound. way more. way, way more. more of my vocals and less of hers. more of my guitar in my monitor and less of the fiddle. way, way less. . . " and on and on. it was getting uncomfortable. she kept making these big hand gestures and shooting irritated looks to the sound booth after each song had started. i understand the desire to get things right, but she was being so ungracious about it. perfection is meant for studio recordings, i think. a few glitches that the audience is unaware of during a live performance is par for the course. plus, there are better ways to suggest sound changes, like passing a message to a stage hand to take to the sound booth, rather than yelling across the venue in the middle of the show. it was incredibly irritating.

lettuce

ho hum. i've been really into bathing lately. i love water that's almost too hot to bear, and reading is so much more exciting-- will i get the book wet? plus, i'm naked, so that's fun when you're doing anything.

i really have nothing to say, but i feel gulity if i ignore the blog. time for a bath.

skyscraper

so the dinner party was nice last night. except people always end up asking me questions like "so what's going on? boyfriend yet?" or "you seeing anyone yet?" or "why aren't you drunk yet?" i like the last question because that's when i get to say "well get me a drink, bitch." really, it's not that bad, but i have landed in the alternate universe called "couples" which is quickly morphing into "couples with babies." i think that's why i like hanging out with my older friends-- none of them have kids. and if they do, they're my age and want nothing to do with their parents, which frees up mom and/or dad to get drunk with me. it's a good arrangement for everyone. don't get me wrong-- kids are cool and having kids is cool and all that, but i am so not there. i like spontaneous mushroom highs and getting so drunk i can't brush my teeth without laughing hysterically in the bath tub. not a good time for children, but great for me.

i'm going to have a bath now. serious shaving to do.

shake well before using

will it ever stop snowing? i have errands to do today and i'm always on foot, so i'm pretty sure it's going to suck at least a little bit. oh well.

this shaped up to be a pretty stupid weekend. i don't why i'm so out of sorts, but tomorrow will leave this behind. tonight i'm going to a dinner party for my friend's birthday. alaskan salmon and cake, my favorite foods. yum.

i can't stop listening to this modest mouse cd. must be good.

uh

there have been many times in my short life that i've felt i just couldn't take anymore. many, many times that i thought i wanted to die, that things were never going to change, that i was worth nothing.

how could i have felt that way? there was no reason to feel like that. when i look back to those times, i wonder why didn't i just say no? why didn't i just say what i really felt? why didn't i just leave?

i remember how i felt then. i remember and i know what i felt. i was scared. it was fear that motivated me. i made decisions based on fear. i am, in fact, still pretty scared. but it's ok. it's a little bit exhilerating now. it's a kind of grimacing fun.

i feel jittery and sick and anxious right this minute. it's 1 am here and my room mate just had a shower, he put on fresh clothes and some cologne and he went out. he drove somewhere and i don't know where he went.

apparently i have learned nothing from my life so far. because right this minute i feel like i'm worth nothing.

grumpy bitch

the two emotions i can't bear, and which i experience a lot of, are guilt and jealousy. the guilt i have more control over, but the jealousy tends to come on like a ferocious beast (or at least a nervous cat) and will not be talked down or reasoned with. i find myself jealous over the stupidest things, like other people's life histories that do not include me or women whom i perceive as more attractive than i am. it's ridiculous. it's like i can't handle the fact that i am not the centre of everyone's universe so i go around judging every person and every situation against myself. it's very counter-productive and lame. fortunately, i am not ugly and i know that anyone's life history that does not include me is not really a life at all.

i woke up angry today for no apparent reason, so i decided to go the gym. i figured the walk there would calm me down and the profuse sweating during the work out would drain away any lingering bitchiness. not so. i go to a gym for women, mostly because it's the closest one and there's no mirrors in the work out area (i can't stand being able to see myself lumbering around excercise machinery and sweating like a pig with my mouth open so i can get enough oxygen.) but, most of the women there are middle aged or in their "golden years." which would be fine if i were a "normal" person with a "normal" range of reactions to other people who have really nothing to do with me. however, the sound of middle aged women talking really seems to enrage me for some reason. it sounds high pitched and grating. maybe i'm just experiencing some fear of aging and it's manifesting itself in this inexplicable hatred for ladies of a certain age in spandex and kitty sweatshirts. i realize how silly and unfair i can be. and these feelings are about as silly and unfair as you can get, but i'm experiencing them nonetheless. maybe it's actually all about issues i have with my mother. it's always her fault.

i'm going to work now and check up on my one employee. i seem to have a need to feel superior today, so i think i'm just going to go with it.

modest mouse

i was having a poo on the toilet just now and a little mouse jumped out of my room mate's shaving kit. it then jumped off the toilet tank and onto my room mate's bathrobe which is hanging on the door. my ass was off the shitter faster than you can say "oh fuck." i don't get hysterical or anything when i see mice, but they're annoying, dirty little bastards. i don't like small animals shitting anywhere they like in my house. it's like they're asserting some kind of superiority over me by blantantly leaving turds behind the coffeemaker. how did it get on the toilet? can they climb on perfectly smooth surfaces? mysterious.

gross

i took my tongue piercing out yesterday. i've been thinking about doing it for awhile, but i just left it. i shouldn't say that i took it out--my esthetition (torture mistress) did because it was screwed on so tight i couldn't actually do it myself. now my mouth feels empty-- i keep sucking on my tongue in rememberance, and i realize how integral such a small piece of metal was to the everyday inner workings of who i am. i didn't realize how attached i was to that stupid thing until now. oh well. i had it for almost 4 years and as far as piercings go, it was a good run.

torture mistress. yes, i pay her to put me through excruciating pain every couple of weeks or so. it's called electrolysis. here's a gross little fact about me. when i was younger i made some unfortunate decisions regarding personal hair removal. for example, i shaved that fine, pale little trail of hair from my bellybutton to my pubic region (which is now equivalent to the bermuda triangle.) so, of course, the hair grew back thicker and darker. so i shaved it again. you get the picture. i got tired of waxing my belly-- it just seemed weird and oddly humiliating, even in private. i am also blessed with some strange hair growth pattern on my neck (this appeared after i stopped taking the pill.) my friends assured me that they could not see what i was talking about, but every once in awhile i'd find a couple of really course dark hairs growing on the side of my neck and occasionally on my chin. not cool with me, so i plucked them. well, then it seemed that i was constantly finding these hairs and continually plucking them away, and one day i realized that if i didn't stop doing this i was going to wake up with a beard. so electrolysis seemed like the most viable, permanent option. in case you don't know, electrolysis is a form of permanent hair removal that involves a very small filament that is inserted directly into the hair follicle. an electric current is then shot through the filament into the follicle killing the root of the hair. it fucking hurts. not only is there a tiny pin plunged deep into your dermis, it also electrocutes you. and she has to apply the treatment to each follicle for at least 5-10 seonds each time. it feels like you're burning from the inside in just one very small area. and my mouth always tastes like metal during the process. it's often a bewildering experience. i couldn't take it yesterday. she was working on my treasure trail and i practically had to chew on a piece of wood to keep from crying like a baby. we decided that i had reached my pain thresh hold for the day and i got the fuck out of there. i always leave her a tip, though.

disclaimer*

it's becoming more and more apparent that my room mate is on a very fast and noisy downward spiral. i was aware of this before, but i've just grown so used to his personality "tics" that i just attribute all the drinking and yelling and incessant talking about himself to his "character." i've been effectively ignoring the fact that this man needs desperately to pull himself together before it's too late. i've only known him for a relatively short time, but the word among his long-time friends is that he wasn't always such a depressing psycho. and i can easily see that. i've often thought to myself "man, what a totally cool guy. too bad he just about broke his teeth on the dining room table." ahh well. this is a pretty sensitive and important "real-life" issue. i shouldn't cheapen it with my ironic musings.

plus i'm all bitchy and out of sorts today because i'm hung over. my neighbour left for cuba this morning for 2 weeks, so of course, i was over at his house last night (and three other nights this week) saying "bon voyage." my neighbour is the perfect counterpoint to my room mate. he gets just as drunk as my room mate, but instead of it becoming an emotional ordeal bordering on a soul draining marathon of listening to someone else's persecution complex play itself out in ugly, minute detail for hours, it's actually fun. with my neighbour, i can say something about myself or talk about things without getting screamed at or outright ignored. it's refreshing.

*don't get me wrong-- i do have "normal" and healthy relationships with my other friends. they, in fact, keep me sane and allow me to explore my attraction to total weirdos, fuck-ups and other artist types. i just really enjoy the strangeness that can happen between people. we're such volatile creatures and i think it's worth the effort to embrace that fact. plus, i do genuinely care about the people in my life-- they're not just fodder for my witty blog postings. i understand that i use this medium to distance myself from the reality of the things i write about.

as for tonight, it's going to be beer and nachos with one of my girlfriends and then early to bed. i need a good night's sleep so i can actually get some work done this weekend.