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.