Awake this morning before the alarm. Why? Because having gone to sleep with the windows open and covered only by a thin sheet (it's been so humid, Saturday night I changed beds a half dozen times seeking some relief and comfort) the frigid temperature this morning wasn't conducive to sleep. Shades of Fundy. You know when you wake up in a tent on a cold morning after sleeping on the ground all night. It was like that. No complaints here. I needed a break. And you know I can't wait for sweater season! Winter is my friend.
Late Thursday night a car with Quebec plates pulled into the drive. It wasn't my landlord's van but nevertheless I figured it must be him. Perfect timing! We need to talk about bees. Whoever was in the car went into the house. Early Friday morning the car left . . . and it hasn't come back. Weird. Not my landlord? I need to call him. Something should be done while I am gone to the Miramichi.
Yes, I am returning to the scene of the crime later this week. My train leaves Thursday afternoon, I'll be back on the Tantramarsh the following Thursday. I'm not making any plans for this visit . . . well, other than a road trip to Freddy on Friday and the family reunion Saturday and Sunday and a hon birthday celebration in there somewhere. But that is all. I will not be run ragged or feel like I haven't a moment to myself on this visit. Will not over-extend myself. Need to chill and just take things day by day, so I'm not zonked on return.
FYI--when one is alone on a dark stormy night, one shouldn't consume anything with "exorcism" in the title. Bad idea. I watched "The Exorcsim of Emily Rose" on Saturday night. Ok, so as movies go, it's not THAT scary, not like "The Ring" kind of scary. But it's got that "based on a true story" tagline, making it more like "The Mothman Prophecies" kinda scary, where you want to Google the hell out it after you watch it. Of course, all this is amplified when you watch it alone I'm sure. I need to watch again before delivering a final verdict on whether this is a good movie or not. And yeah, I still wanna Google the hell out of it.
Boogie wins the veto. What will Janelle do? The Evil Dr is really starting to come into his own. He is the only reason to watch the show on tv. Hopefully Erika or Diane will get the boot. Because seriously these floaters who are never going to make a move bore the crap out me. Erika is the worst. We're four weeks into this thing and I still don't get why people like Janelle and Kaysar. They must've played a different game last year or something. James is my favourite out of the seasick bunch. He's got game. Howie is semi-entertaining in that goofy is this guy for real kind of way. I hope Will gets to the end.
Still Lukas or Dilana for Supernova. I'm rooting for Lukas of course. Shocked Phil went home this early. I liked his bobble. But more than that why the hell is that chick still in this thing?! This disturbs me. What the-?! Inside the mansion episode tonight with song selection. I think I should've been a rock star. Being such a creature of the night as I am, where else can I get paid fantastic money and still sleep til noon everyday? Something to thing about.
Mood: indecisive
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: A Public Affair, Jessica Simpson
Hair: ????
Monday, July 31, 2006
Thursday, July 27, 2006
Cocoon Mode
I don't know what it is, all the socializing of last weekend, all the weather related stress of the past couple of weeks, all the shock of disease in children, all of these things in combo, but I am longing to cocoon, to lock the door, turn off the computer and phone, and just lie down and watch mindless television for days. Mustn't give in to the temptation. Must force myself to go out and get the mail, walk around to get the blood flowing, attend to email, work, blog, clean house, carry on and take care of business. It's hard. This cocooning thing runs in my family. So does manic depression bi-polar stuff, which makes me wonder if I should get tested for chemical abnormalities, or are my up and down mood swings just normal human behaviour? How does one become one of those people who are always up? Drugs? Increased endorfins through vigorous exercise? Yoga? Meditation? Livlier background music? How?
I know you likely want an update . . . but . . . blah!
Mood: tired & sore
Drinking: coffee, french roast, fair trade, organic, double cream
Listening To: Heart Shaped Box, Nirvana
Hair: golden blonde
I know you likely want an update . . . but . . . blah!
Mood: tired & sore
Drinking: coffee, french roast, fair trade, organic, double cream
Listening To: Heart Shaped Box, Nirvana
Hair: golden blonde
Tuesday, July 25, 2006
And So It Is
Good weekend with Trish. Details later. This morning I go to Moncton to visit our little girl in hospital. Friday all was well. Saturday Jules had diabetes. Just that quick. Shell shocked. I go bearing gifts of books and paper and crayons and pencils and pink things that spell out friendship and hope. She is doing well, proud of her strength, assuring the adults there's no need to worry, already pricking her finger herself. She is six years old, still spinning and singing and smiling. Meanwhile her parents take turns crying, my mother and I cry when we talk to her on the phone. I cry when I talk to someone new and tell them about it for the first time. I expect I will cry when I see her. It's hard to watch a child receive a life sentence. Yes, it could be worse. But it could've been so much better.
Mood: uncertain
Drinking: organic french roast with cream
Listening To: field being bush-hogged, ambulance screaming past
Hair: flippy
Mood: uncertain
Drinking: organic french roast with cream
Listening To: field being bush-hogged, ambulance screaming past
Hair: flippy
Thursday, July 20, 2006
Who Says?
When Stacy and I were kids we used to make games. Like board games. I can't remember actually playing these games, just the making of them. They were quite elaborate as I recall. In our pre and early teens they were curious boy/girl games designed to heat things up with those Barnettville boys. Funny to think of this tonight as I watch BB7 and think, "I could make-up a more exciting competition."
***
I think I was 15 the first time I got my heart broke. It was the beginning of the March Break, that Friday night. He parked at the edge of the drive-way, didn't drive all the way in. Ford LTD. But I don't think it was the four-door burgundy one with the white front rocker panel (or is it a fender on the front end?) The LTD before that one. Two-door. I came out on the step to greet him, trailing friends, thought we were going out. Happy to be on holiday from school. Looking forward to the weekend. He fucking blind-sided me with this break-up bullshit. On my step lit up by Dad's big-ass "not stealing anything out of the back of my truck" security light. I could see her silhouette in the car. Sitting in the middle, beside him.
Yeah, definitely, that's the first time it happened, that terrible ache in your throat, pain in your chest, punch in the gut that just knocks the life out of you. Where you just explode into big fat tears and wracking sobs. You know what I mean, it just kills you. Your heart actually hurts. He was nervous kind of. I don't know that he knew what to expect of me. I was a bit of a loose cannon. He was too afraid to come alone and do it, likely figured if I was gonna come out swinging she'd take the heat.
But I hadn't seen it coming. I couldn't react in any way. I had just been slain for the first time. This was new. With every fibre of my being I fought to maintain composure. The only thing worse than what he was doing to me would be allowing him to see how badly it hurt. It's times like that when a crazy calm comes over me. Even to this day, it's the same deal. I go still, jump behind the wall in my mind and stay there. Distance myself mentally from the situation. Silent. Emotionless. I've been called heartless, cold, and worse things, but it's how I cope until I can get a moment to myself to digest.
The first time happened on my parents' step under the spotlight with an audience. I didn't cry. I didn't say much. I didn't hit anyone or throw the ring back in his face or anything. I just slipped it off my finger and into his palm, smiled, wished him well and went inside. As soon as I turned my back on him the tears came hard. I ran to my bedroom, slammed the door and threw myself against it, a pile on the floor. There is something beyond the ugly cry. It is blindness, electrocution, stabbing and fire all at once. You can't sustain this state for more than five minutes without inducing death. I filled my room to the ceiling with anguish, then I got up, fixed my face and went out with my friends to pretend I didn't really care anyway by getting drunk and fucking somebody else.
By the end of the week-long March Break she dumped him and I took him back. He never broke my heart again.
Mood: slimy
Drinking: nothing, gonna get some tea, maybe vanilla rooibos
Listening To: If He Should Break Your Heart, Journey
Hair: where's the effing dye?
***
I think I was 15 the first time I got my heart broke. It was the beginning of the March Break, that Friday night. He parked at the edge of the drive-way, didn't drive all the way in. Ford LTD. But I don't think it was the four-door burgundy one with the white front rocker panel (or is it a fender on the front end?) The LTD before that one. Two-door. I came out on the step to greet him, trailing friends, thought we were going out. Happy to be on holiday from school. Looking forward to the weekend. He fucking blind-sided me with this break-up bullshit. On my step lit up by Dad's big-ass "not stealing anything out of the back of my truck" security light. I could see her silhouette in the car. Sitting in the middle, beside him.
Yeah, definitely, that's the first time it happened, that terrible ache in your throat, pain in your chest, punch in the gut that just knocks the life out of you. Where you just explode into big fat tears and wracking sobs. You know what I mean, it just kills you. Your heart actually hurts. He was nervous kind of. I don't know that he knew what to expect of me. I was a bit of a loose cannon. He was too afraid to come alone and do it, likely figured if I was gonna come out swinging she'd take the heat.
But I hadn't seen it coming. I couldn't react in any way. I had just been slain for the first time. This was new. With every fibre of my being I fought to maintain composure. The only thing worse than what he was doing to me would be allowing him to see how badly it hurt. It's times like that when a crazy calm comes over me. Even to this day, it's the same deal. I go still, jump behind the wall in my mind and stay there. Distance myself mentally from the situation. Silent. Emotionless. I've been called heartless, cold, and worse things, but it's how I cope until I can get a moment to myself to digest.
The first time happened on my parents' step under the spotlight with an audience. I didn't cry. I didn't say much. I didn't hit anyone or throw the ring back in his face or anything. I just slipped it off my finger and into his palm, smiled, wished him well and went inside. As soon as I turned my back on him the tears came hard. I ran to my bedroom, slammed the door and threw myself against it, a pile on the floor. There is something beyond the ugly cry. It is blindness, electrocution, stabbing and fire all at once. You can't sustain this state for more than five minutes without inducing death. I filled my room to the ceiling with anguish, then I got up, fixed my face and went out with my friends to pretend I didn't really care anyway by getting drunk and fucking somebody else.
By the end of the week-long March Break she dumped him and I took him back. He never broke my heart again.
Mood: slimy
Drinking: nothing, gonna get some tea, maybe vanilla rooibos
Listening To: If He Should Break Your Heart, Journey
Hair: where's the effing dye?
Knew It
Our girl Jenny just wasn't Rock Star material after all. I'm starting to wonder if I didn't have her mixed up with some other chick on that Global Canada audition show, because the girl who made such a strong impression on me had some killer smoky vocals going on I thought . . . and we never saw that at all from Jenny. I wonder if she's too old for Canadian Idol. Cuz that Sarah McLachlan stuff would likely fly better there. So now it's all up to Lukas to bring it home for us. No problem!
It's eviction day in the Big Brother house. Good Lord, can someone exciting win the frigging head-of-household and actually DO something. What a snoozefest this all-stars thing is turning out to be! Can we vote Boston Rob into the house? The house guests keep saying it's too early in the game to make a move, but damn! If they don't do something about that Season Six thing soon . . . it'll be too late.
Big weekend coming up. Trish lands tomorrow. We've got jazz, shakespeare, poetry, galleries, theatre, hauntings, cheesecake, a medieval fair and much more on tap. It's gonna be so outta hand! Good times!
They're talking about too high air conditioning on Ryan Seacrest. Would you rather freeze to death, burn to death or fall off a building and get your eyelids caught on two protruding nails causing your eyeballs to plop out?
Mood: silly
Drinking: coffee, french roast with cream (hmmm)
Listening To: Little Ally, On-Air with Ryan Seacrest
Hair: too banging
It's eviction day in the Big Brother house. Good Lord, can someone exciting win the frigging head-of-household and actually DO something. What a snoozefest this all-stars thing is turning out to be! Can we vote Boston Rob into the house? The house guests keep saying it's too early in the game to make a move, but damn! If they don't do something about that Season Six thing soon . . . it'll be too late.
Big weekend coming up. Trish lands tomorrow. We've got jazz, shakespeare, poetry, galleries, theatre, hauntings, cheesecake, a medieval fair and much more on tap. It's gonna be so outta hand! Good times!
They're talking about too high air conditioning on Ryan Seacrest. Would you rather freeze to death, burn to death or fall off a building and get your eyelids caught on two protruding nails causing your eyeballs to plop out?
Mood: silly
Drinking: coffee, french roast with cream (hmmm)
Listening To: Little Ally, On-Air with Ryan Seacrest
Hair: too banging
Wednesday, July 19, 2006
Why We Love the Evil Doctor
"I hope someone here is my half-brother."
Mood: laughing my guts out
Drinking: water
Listening To: Def Leppard
Hair: a little wonky
Mood: laughing my guts out
Drinking: water
Listening To: Def Leppard
Hair: a little wonky
Kevin & Joel
Clerks II opens Friday. I can't imagine that it'll play on the one screen in this town, but I've got my fingers crossed that it'll run for a bit in Miramichi and that I can catch it when I'm through there in a couple of weeks. Chances are slim though, I might have to wait for the dvd. Clerks was genius and I'm really looking forward to the sequel. Anyway, I'm a huge Kevin Smith fan, I read his blog religiously. So today he posted an outraged (and rightly so) rant about how film critic Joel Siegel rudely disrupted a screening of Clerks II instead of just leaving quietly 40 minutes in when he decided the flick wasn't for him. Tonight I checked back and saw the post had been updated with audio from an appearance Kevin did on Opie and Anthony where they called Joel Siegel. Funny stuff! Go read, listen. Cracks me up. But I can't get through the Clerks II trailer without cracking up. I want one of Jay's Got Christ? tees.
Mood: punny :-)
Drinking: water
Listening To: Undivided, Bon Jovi
Hair: dye purchased today
Mood: punny :-)
Drinking: water
Listening To: Undivided, Bon Jovi
Hair: dye purchased today
Last Night
Terrible storm. Blech! I hate lightning. Scary stuff. But even scarier might have been the picture of me sitting in the foyer in the dark reciting dirty limericks and singing Jesus Loves Me because they were the only things I could remember.
A fire at campus residence about 2:30 am. (They have a lot of fires over there it seems.) I thought I smelled something earlier. At least two fire trucks and maybe some ambulance and cops. Couldn't see any evidence of disaster this morning when I took the trash to the curb. (Yay! I remembered it was garbage day!) But my room did seem to fill with smoke.
The storm cleared out right at 10pm so I could tune into Rock Star. I gotta say I'm disappointed with Jenny Galt. Before the competition started I watched a Global TV special covering the Canadian auditions across the country and she was one of my favourites. I thought she was gonna give everyone a run for their money, but so far she's just been really unremarkable, as you can totally see from the lack of comments on her blog. She is easy to forget. My boy Lukas continues to bring it though! Loved, loved, loved what he did to the Stones. Shades of Jon Bon in his stage presence last night. Just shades. It was the arrogance perhaps? And like Dave says that's a good thing.
I wasn't smitten with Dilana's Zombie though, didn't do it for me. But I really, really, really like that song you know, so that factors in. I guess I just would've liked some of the high notes. She's still one of my favourites to win though, if the boys decide to go with a girl for a lead. Patrice is starting to register on my radar. Storm's stage presence is a bit phony for me. Magni gives me the creeps. Zayra . . . What show does she think she's on? Why is she still in this thing? Dana's just too young and sweet. I'm thinking Jenny, Zayra and Dana will be the bottom three. And if they follow the same thing they did last week, then Zayra will be sent packing for being in the bottom two weeks in a row. Though anyone of them needs to go soon.
In other Rock Star news, Dave and Carmen broke up (which puts a whole new spin on all his drooling over Brooke Burke) and Pamela is marrying Kid Rock. What's Tommy think about that I wonder?
Very disappointed with the Big Brother All-Stars. The only bright spot is Dr. Will. He's still hilarious. I just wanna shake everyone else and scream, "Play the game already!"
In other reality news, Boston Rob and Amber have landed their own show following their move to Vegas where Rob tries to set himself up as a professional gambler. This one's got success written all over it. Who doesn't love Boston Rob and poker?!
Mood: sunny
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: Shout Out to Junior from Veronica, On-Air with Ryan Seacrest
Hair: needs a good dusting
A fire at campus residence about 2:30 am. (They have a lot of fires over there it seems.) I thought I smelled something earlier. At least two fire trucks and maybe some ambulance and cops. Couldn't see any evidence of disaster this morning when I took the trash to the curb. (Yay! I remembered it was garbage day!) But my room did seem to fill with smoke.
The storm cleared out right at 10pm so I could tune into Rock Star. I gotta say I'm disappointed with Jenny Galt. Before the competition started I watched a Global TV special covering the Canadian auditions across the country and she was one of my favourites. I thought she was gonna give everyone a run for their money, but so far she's just been really unremarkable, as you can totally see from the lack of comments on her blog. She is easy to forget. My boy Lukas continues to bring it though! Loved, loved, loved what he did to the Stones. Shades of Jon Bon in his stage presence last night. Just shades. It was the arrogance perhaps? And like Dave says that's a good thing.
I wasn't smitten with Dilana's Zombie though, didn't do it for me. But I really, really, really like that song you know, so that factors in. I guess I just would've liked some of the high notes. She's still one of my favourites to win though, if the boys decide to go with a girl for a lead. Patrice is starting to register on my radar. Storm's stage presence is a bit phony for me. Magni gives me the creeps. Zayra . . . What show does she think she's on? Why is she still in this thing? Dana's just too young and sweet. I'm thinking Jenny, Zayra and Dana will be the bottom three. And if they follow the same thing they did last week, then Zayra will be sent packing for being in the bottom two weeks in a row. Though anyone of them needs to go soon.
In other Rock Star news, Dave and Carmen broke up (which puts a whole new spin on all his drooling over Brooke Burke) and Pamela is marrying Kid Rock. What's Tommy think about that I wonder?
Very disappointed with the Big Brother All-Stars. The only bright spot is Dr. Will. He's still hilarious. I just wanna shake everyone else and scream, "Play the game already!"
In other reality news, Boston Rob and Amber have landed their own show following their move to Vegas where Rob tries to set himself up as a professional gambler. This one's got success written all over it. Who doesn't love Boston Rob and poker?!
Mood: sunny
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: Shout Out to Junior from Veronica, On-Air with Ryan Seacrest
Hair: needs a good dusting
Tuesday, July 18, 2006
Wilting
good lord how is anyone supposed to function in this weather?! it's so hazy outside! i'm chronicly nauseous. clammy to the touch. head feels like it's gonna implode from the pressure. joints beyond aching and well into swelling. i've got the sturgeon perma-furrow in my brow. even downstairs offers no relief. i feel like i should eat something, but what? under a humidex advisory and severe thunderstorm watch. cold front moving in apparently. maybe there will be some relief later. for godsake i hope so.
Mood: fading like a flower
Drinking: water
Listening To: nothing, there's nothing going on out there, nobody mowing, nobody walking, nobody driving past, everybody's home and past out from the humidity
Hair: curling all over
Mood: fading like a flower
Drinking: water
Listening To: nothing, there's nothing going on out there, nobody mowing, nobody walking, nobody driving past, everybody's home and past out from the humidity
Hair: curling all over
Little Things I Love
In Intermission when John tells Oscar that it was his idea to break up, in order to test Deirdre. Oscar is pissed all the way off, but the little part I love is when John says he's going home to reflect on his choices.
Paul Giamatti's bit part in Singles, where he's sucking the face off a girl in the coffee shop.
Johnny Depp in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. It's Johnny. It's the doctor. What's not to love?
The way Tommy Lee sits like a little boy with his legs tied in knots.
At the beginning of On the Edge when Smashing Pumpkins 1979 plays while Cillian rides his bike.
Ashton Kutcher in A Lot Like Love. Like seriously, everything about him, every scene he's in. I love the way his face says everything, he doesn't need to speak. He's very good in this one.
The way Kate Hudson peers over her glasses in Almost Famous.
The scene in Singles where Kyra is sitting on the couch with her toothbrush and she's all excited still from the evening and then he's at the door and he says, "I was just nowhere near your neighbourhood."
And so much more. But I'm outta time.
Mood: inspired, in love with little things
Drinking: tea
Listening To: the train
Hair: still too short for most styling tools
Paul Giamatti's bit part in Singles, where he's sucking the face off a girl in the coffee shop.
Johnny Depp in Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas. It's Johnny. It's the doctor. What's not to love?
The way Tommy Lee sits like a little boy with his legs tied in knots.
At the beginning of On the Edge when Smashing Pumpkins 1979 plays while Cillian rides his bike.
Ashton Kutcher in A Lot Like Love. Like seriously, everything about him, every scene he's in. I love the way his face says everything, he doesn't need to speak. He's very good in this one.
The way Kate Hudson peers over her glasses in Almost Famous.
The scene in Singles where Kyra is sitting on the couch with her toothbrush and she's all excited still from the evening and then he's at the door and he says, "I was just nowhere near your neighbourhood."
And so much more. But I'm outta time.
Mood: inspired, in love with little things
Drinking: tea
Listening To: the train
Hair: still too short for most styling tools
Monday, July 17, 2006
That's Hawt
The humidity is insane. That slick with sweat look is very in right now. And my hair! Ouch! Impossible to function in the daylight hours. Luckily I am a creature of the night. Axed my Aliant Internet/Long-Distance Plan today in favour of Skype. Will save $15/month. Cha-ching! First disc of the second season of Deadwood arrived today. I watched both episodes already. I do enjoy that show. Wish I had HBO.
Tonight was a Rock Star night. Just the half hour song selection and clinic episode. Lukas is doing the Stones. I know he comes off as being cocky (but hey lets face it, rock stars are cocky arrogant bastards and that's why we love them) but I think he's got the right idea about song selection. Any one of them should be able to do any of the songs. Yeah, they might have faves etc. but is that any reason to fight over choices. I dunno. But for serious I think this season is a bust, Lukas is the only one of these singers capable of hanging with Tommy Lee and the boys. It's a done deal.
Mood: hot 'n spicy
Drinking: tea
Listening To: my fan, always my fan
Hair: can you say wrecked? frizzy? humidified?
Tonight was a Rock Star night. Just the half hour song selection and clinic episode. Lukas is doing the Stones. I know he comes off as being cocky (but hey lets face it, rock stars are cocky arrogant bastards and that's why we love them) but I think he's got the right idea about song selection. Any one of them should be able to do any of the songs. Yeah, they might have faves etc. but is that any reason to fight over choices. I dunno. But for serious I think this season is a bust, Lukas is the only one of these singers capable of hanging with Tommy Lee and the boys. It's a done deal.
Mood: hot 'n spicy
Drinking: tea
Listening To: my fan, always my fan
Hair: can you say wrecked? frizzy? humidified?
Fireworks
I remember now. It was a white Chrysler New Yorker. Huge gas guzzling boat. God, I loved that car! On the way to Canada's Wonderland to meet up with my sisters, aunt and cousins on holiday with their youth group. Canada Day weekend perhaps? There were to be fireworks that evening, but maybe they had something like that every weekend in the park. A hot day but nevertheless I was wearing jeans, black jeans to be precise. Because I thought myself too fat to be seen in shorts. Hah! If only I knew then how skinny I really was. On the highway with the windows down and the radio cranked we had a moment of sadness about Freddie Mercury . . . either on his last legs or already gone and a memorial concert happening to raise money for AIDS. Then only excitement at spending the day with my baby sisters. Ruined Jenn on the first coaster, the Mine Buster. I thought I had killed her, lips so blue. No more coasters for us.
Later stretched out on my back looking at the night sky, I wondered where the hell he had gone, if he lost us. Just before the show began he returned, beaming, having won me a huge purple elephant with green spots (years later I would give it to Tracey's Monica because the thing was just too big to keep around for sentimental value). The most amazing fireworks and lazor light show choreographed with music that I have ever seen. And I've seen some fine shows during the International competition over the water at Ontario Place. At the end my sisters walked away with their group like we would see each other again tomorrow. So young and excited to be out in the world with their friends. I watched them leave until I couldn't see them anymore and then I collapsed in the car, missing them and they weren't even really gone yet. He pulled me into the middle, wrapped an arm around me and drove home with me sobbing onto the chest of his white Molson Indy shirt, our elephant staring out the passenger side window.
I miss big ugly gas guzzling boat-like cars.
Mood: melancholic
Drinking: coors light
Listening To: backyard fireworks somewhere in the neighbourhood
Hair: thinking on a new colour scheme
Later stretched out on my back looking at the night sky, I wondered where the hell he had gone, if he lost us. Just before the show began he returned, beaming, having won me a huge purple elephant with green spots (years later I would give it to Tracey's Monica because the thing was just too big to keep around for sentimental value). The most amazing fireworks and lazor light show choreographed with music that I have ever seen. And I've seen some fine shows during the International competition over the water at Ontario Place. At the end my sisters walked away with their group like we would see each other again tomorrow. So young and excited to be out in the world with their friends. I watched them leave until I couldn't see them anymore and then I collapsed in the car, missing them and they weren't even really gone yet. He pulled me into the middle, wrapped an arm around me and drove home with me sobbing onto the chest of his white Molson Indy shirt, our elephant staring out the passenger side window.
I miss big ugly gas guzzling boat-like cars.
Mood: melancholic
Drinking: coors light
Listening To: backyard fireworks somewhere in the neighbourhood
Hair: thinking on a new colour scheme
Sunday, July 16, 2006
Way Out of Hand
I've thrown out my back. OUCH! Dammit! This pisses me off. The bee situation is way out of hand. Every morning dying bees on my kitchen floor. This morning, two of them and another ugly looking yanky-ox type bug. Definitely coming in from behind the stove/cupboards somehow. What to do? What to do? Landlord will be here in a couple of weeks. Meanwhile, I just keep killing them. Keep saturating my kitchen with Raid. Nice, yeah. I should do a reality series called Toxic Apartment. God, I so did not have this problem last year.
So another Sunday. This is the day I get all optimistic and energetic and anxious about the coming week. I make lists. I run around and do things. I obsess about things I can't do because it is Sunday, but I will do first thing tomorrow morning. I pray I'll be able to sleep so I can in fact get up early tomorrow and do all the things I can't do today. I get a headache. I can't sleep. Sometimes I throw up. I don't much like Sundays. They mess with my brain. If everything was open 24/7. If nobody kept traditional business hours. Maybe I'd have a little Sunday relief.
Years ago Sunday was the best day of the week. The quiet day. His sick day. Generally a day of cuddling and peace. A day we'd lay low, draw the curtains, hide out. I would look forward to it every week. I think he did too. But man, if the shit continued into Sunday (which happened sometimes) then our peaceful day would be turned upside down and all bets were off. A normal week played out like this: Monday and Tuesday were respectful "we're a normal working class family" days, eased into some partying on Wednesday and Thursday, full blown house full of drunks on Friday. The shit would hit the fan on Saturday, because Saturday was the night we would go to a dance or something and he'd have been drinking since at least Friday afternoon, sometimes longer, and he'd be bored by the drinking and the company and just looking for ways to stir things up. When I gave a shit, I tip-toed around Saturday nights, biding my time until the peace of Sunday. It was later, when I didn't care what happened anymore, that's when things got dangerous. Sundays were only special when I cared, and if the party continued into Sunday, it was bad, really bad. Like Saturday on crack. Sunday was the day we'd break-up and I'd go to Mom's. It's funny to think about it now.
When I had the club Sundays were usually pretty quiet. I never knew where I'd wake up Sunday morning, if I had gone to bed at all. On a good day I'd wake up at home in my own bed or alone at the club. On a bad day I'd watch the sunrise from the cab of a half-ton at the Dungarvon Bridge, or be the first person at the liquor store when it opened, or open my eyes and not recognise the room I found myself in. Usually I opened the club Sunday afternoon, though I didn't get many customers, just the regulars if even. I'd spend the day playing pool, listening to music, closer to the end watching tv, and always drinking beer. Sometimes I hated having to be there when the chances of anyone else showing up were so slim. Other times I loved being alone and I'd dance all over the place and sing at the top of my lungs. People who never came any other time would wander in on Sunday it seemed. I'll never forget the Sunday night that this man came in and I thought he was with this other guy I knew because they sort of came in at the same time, but it turned out they didn't even know one another. And through the course of the evening we figured out a bunch of boys from Howards had sent him because he was looking for a woman. And I was single. So he came to check me out. It was funny. But you likely had to be there. Practical joke, but the joke was on who exactly?
In Toronto Sunday was the day we'd go up north dirt bike riding or to the drive-in. I forgot my purse at a McDonalds truck stop on the highway up north one Sunday afternoon. And I called later that night and they actually found it in the restaurant and kept it for me and nobody had stolen anything from inside. All my money and everything was still there.
So I guess Sundays have always been a little out of hand, it's just that now I have to take sole responsibilty. If I'm going a little crazy, it's because I'm driving myself crazy.
Mood: in pain
Drinking: coffee (No-Name brand, dark roast . . . it'll do for now)
Listening To: If I Could Turn Back Time (LIVE), Cher
Hair: feeling like it's in a super model photo shoot, blowing in the fan
So another Sunday. This is the day I get all optimistic and energetic and anxious about the coming week. I make lists. I run around and do things. I obsess about things I can't do because it is Sunday, but I will do first thing tomorrow morning. I pray I'll be able to sleep so I can in fact get up early tomorrow and do all the things I can't do today. I get a headache. I can't sleep. Sometimes I throw up. I don't much like Sundays. They mess with my brain. If everything was open 24/7. If nobody kept traditional business hours. Maybe I'd have a little Sunday relief.
Years ago Sunday was the best day of the week. The quiet day. His sick day. Generally a day of cuddling and peace. A day we'd lay low, draw the curtains, hide out. I would look forward to it every week. I think he did too. But man, if the shit continued into Sunday (which happened sometimes) then our peaceful day would be turned upside down and all bets were off. A normal week played out like this: Monday and Tuesday were respectful "we're a normal working class family" days, eased into some partying on Wednesday and Thursday, full blown house full of drunks on Friday. The shit would hit the fan on Saturday, because Saturday was the night we would go to a dance or something and he'd have been drinking since at least Friday afternoon, sometimes longer, and he'd be bored by the drinking and the company and just looking for ways to stir things up. When I gave a shit, I tip-toed around Saturday nights, biding my time until the peace of Sunday. It was later, when I didn't care what happened anymore, that's when things got dangerous. Sundays were only special when I cared, and if the party continued into Sunday, it was bad, really bad. Like Saturday on crack. Sunday was the day we'd break-up and I'd go to Mom's. It's funny to think about it now.
When I had the club Sundays were usually pretty quiet. I never knew where I'd wake up Sunday morning, if I had gone to bed at all. On a good day I'd wake up at home in my own bed or alone at the club. On a bad day I'd watch the sunrise from the cab of a half-ton at the Dungarvon Bridge, or be the first person at the liquor store when it opened, or open my eyes and not recognise the room I found myself in. Usually I opened the club Sunday afternoon, though I didn't get many customers, just the regulars if even. I'd spend the day playing pool, listening to music, closer to the end watching tv, and always drinking beer. Sometimes I hated having to be there when the chances of anyone else showing up were so slim. Other times I loved being alone and I'd dance all over the place and sing at the top of my lungs. People who never came any other time would wander in on Sunday it seemed. I'll never forget the Sunday night that this man came in and I thought he was with this other guy I knew because they sort of came in at the same time, but it turned out they didn't even know one another. And through the course of the evening we figured out a bunch of boys from Howards had sent him because he was looking for a woman. And I was single. So he came to check me out. It was funny. But you likely had to be there. Practical joke, but the joke was on who exactly?
In Toronto Sunday was the day we'd go up north dirt bike riding or to the drive-in. I forgot my purse at a McDonalds truck stop on the highway up north one Sunday afternoon. And I called later that night and they actually found it in the restaurant and kept it for me and nobody had stolen anything from inside. All my money and everything was still there.
So I guess Sundays have always been a little out of hand, it's just that now I have to take sole responsibilty. If I'm going a little crazy, it's because I'm driving myself crazy.
Mood: in pain
Drinking: coffee (No-Name brand, dark roast . . . it'll do for now)
Listening To: If I Could Turn Back Time (LIVE), Cher
Hair: feeling like it's in a super model photo shoot, blowing in the fan
Saturday, July 15, 2006
Life & Death on the Marsh
Crossed a couple of things off my list today. Yay me! Got up at a decent time this morning and went out to the Farmer's Market (2nd weekend in a row, 2 more and I cross another item off) where I got some bread and a cup of coffee. The Salvation Army Thrift Store is having a 15% off everything sale. CRAZY! I went in search of picture frames and clothes, but I couldn't even get close to clothes, it was so packed. No frames. I got a nice mug for a quarter though. I noticed The Break-Up is playing at the Vogue. 9pm tonight. Hmm . . . is that on my list? Must check. At Tidewater Books I bought Paulina a book by a local author, K.V. Johansen. It's called Torrie and the Pirate Queen and is the first in a series. It's autographed. Maybe she won't like it. I'll probably keep it for a Christmas present. This year, I want to get all the kids books if I can. Frenchy's wasn't open for some strange reason, so I went downstairs to the discount store. Some great deals on sweatshirts, but I couldn't think of anything so warm on a day like today. I bought a Van Gogh calendar and a coffee table book about Italy. I wanted to go to the Dollar Store, but by then the noon hour was upon me and I was getting a little sticky and weighed down with parcels so I just came home. Later I'm going to Co-Op for Fair Trade coffee and think I'll get some beer at the liquor store. Cuz it's that kind of day! I'm thinking of making chicken quesadillas for supper.
Yesterday afternoon I was under a freaking Tornado Warning for about an hour. Not a Severe Thunderstorm Warning where they mention the possibility of tornados like what they had in Blackville last week that had me so freaked out. Not a Tornado Watch. No, no, no, I'm talking about an actual freaking Tornado Warning! Like there is a tornado, we're watching it, it's heading your way, get in the basement now, type of deal. Crazy! So yes, I was scared to death. At first I was fine as I set about getting my safe spot ready, putting on socks and shoes (most injuries in natural disasters occur as the direct result of not having proper footwear), taking blankets downstairs to cushion myself from flying debris (should have taken the futon mattress . . . next time). But once I was all rigged up, the waiting was nerve wracking. Luckily nothing happened here. I saw funnel clouds on the weather channel though. Pictures sent in from viewers in Cap Pele and Moncton. From my journal yesterday afternoon: "My God I am terrified, scared to death. Everything's gone dark. Thunder in the distance, yet still eerily calm here. Too calm for the marsh. So silent. Sweating like a pig in this humidity. I don't know when to take to my safe place. I second guess now just how safe it is. It's hard to do these things all alone. Being brave. Being alone. Is hard. I need one of those weather radios. This not knowing what the hell kinda sucks."
Mood: starving marvin
Drinking: dryer than a wooden god
Listening To: the fan and motorcycles
Hair: so-so
Yesterday afternoon I was under a freaking Tornado Warning for about an hour. Not a Severe Thunderstorm Warning where they mention the possibility of tornados like what they had in Blackville last week that had me so freaked out. Not a Tornado Watch. No, no, no, I'm talking about an actual freaking Tornado Warning! Like there is a tornado, we're watching it, it's heading your way, get in the basement now, type of deal. Crazy! So yes, I was scared to death. At first I was fine as I set about getting my safe spot ready, putting on socks and shoes (most injuries in natural disasters occur as the direct result of not having proper footwear), taking blankets downstairs to cushion myself from flying debris (should have taken the futon mattress . . . next time). But once I was all rigged up, the waiting was nerve wracking. Luckily nothing happened here. I saw funnel clouds on the weather channel though. Pictures sent in from viewers in Cap Pele and Moncton. From my journal yesterday afternoon: "My God I am terrified, scared to death. Everything's gone dark. Thunder in the distance, yet still eerily calm here. Too calm for the marsh. So silent. Sweating like a pig in this humidity. I don't know when to take to my safe place. I second guess now just how safe it is. It's hard to do these things all alone. Being brave. Being alone. Is hard. I need one of those weather radios. This not knowing what the hell kinda sucks."
Mood: starving marvin
Drinking: dryer than a wooden god
Listening To: the fan and motorcycles
Hair: so-so
Friday, July 14, 2006
Been Poorly
You know I'm feeling sickly when it takes me a week to wash, dry and fold a single load of towels. I started them on Monday and put them away a couple of hours ago. Laundry is my thing. The rumbling tumbling, slipping warm material hand to hand, soothes me. The mindless act of folding calms me. It's like meditation, gives me much needed moments of stillness. Normally I do at least one little load of laundry every day. Not this week. This week I did one load all week.
I also went to the post office only one time, which means I've only been outside once all week. Most of the week I've been crashed on my futon sucking back chocolate pudding, black plums, fresh cherries and local strawberries. Shifting pillows and blankets to support and soothe aching limbs and organs. A couple of days ago I broke out in a rash. Not sure why. Stress and/or heat related no doubt. I feel slightly more human today, yet the rash remains for now. In recent years I have become one of those people who breaks out in hives when stressed. I never used to be that girl :-(
I downloaded Skype to better communicate with the mighty miramichi, but I had to turn it off because i keep getting calls from arab men i don't know. I don't answer, but still, I hadn't realised it was possible to just call up anyone whether you're buddies or not.
Today is a good day to feel better, to go out and join the world. The sun is shining but the wind is blowing so the temperatures are not unbearable. Today I will go to the post office and other places, clean my kitchen of discarded pits and stems and pudding plastics, and get back to the business of life.
Mood: improved
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: wind, birds, squirrels, whirring fan, lawnmower man, traffic
Hair: oh boy! ask me later
I also went to the post office only one time, which means I've only been outside once all week. Most of the week I've been crashed on my futon sucking back chocolate pudding, black plums, fresh cherries and local strawberries. Shifting pillows and blankets to support and soothe aching limbs and organs. A couple of days ago I broke out in a rash. Not sure why. Stress and/or heat related no doubt. I feel slightly more human today, yet the rash remains for now. In recent years I have become one of those people who breaks out in hives when stressed. I never used to be that girl :-(
I downloaded Skype to better communicate with the mighty miramichi, but I had to turn it off because i keep getting calls from arab men i don't know. I don't answer, but still, I hadn't realised it was possible to just call up anyone whether you're buddies or not.
Today is a good day to feel better, to go out and join the world. The sun is shining but the wind is blowing so the temperatures are not unbearable. Today I will go to the post office and other places, clean my kitchen of discarded pits and stems and pudding plastics, and get back to the business of life.
Mood: improved
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: wind, birds, squirrels, whirring fan, lawnmower man, traffic
Hair: oh boy! ask me later
Tuesday, July 11, 2006
Sickly
Feeling a little sickly. Probably just the humidity weighing in. Nausea. Unsettling. Much sadness in Miramichi. Also weighing in. Weighing me down.
Last night I dreamed of dogs and farms and tornados and grandparents. Exhausting. I woke to bees and other bugs. Ate a black plum and granola bar.
Paralyzed with a side stitch earlier. Need to breathe deeper to prevent.
Money fairy dropped by. Twenty here, twenty there.
It's a Rock Star night.
Mood: bluish
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: lawnmower man. what else is there?
Hair: not at all flattering
Last night I dreamed of dogs and farms and tornados and grandparents. Exhausting. I woke to bees and other bugs. Ate a black plum and granola bar.
Paralyzed with a side stitch earlier. Need to breathe deeper to prevent.
Money fairy dropped by. Twenty here, twenty there.
It's a Rock Star night.
Mood: bluish
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: lawnmower man. what else is there?
Hair: not at all flattering
Monday, July 10, 2006
Wreck of the Day
Humidity sitting in my joints. A most difficult weekend in ways. Mom visited. We attended a private poetry reading at friends' house. It was unlike any other reading I've ever attended. Spiritual. Poems about the dead. Poems about the living. Letters to the living from the dead. Pets put down. Mothers hanging on. Guilt. Regret. Anger. Sitting there alone would've been tough, with my mother beside me it took everything in me not to flee the room. It was like Dusty and Grandad and Grammie all reaching out from their graves at the same time, summoned by John Lennon. All the pain of the past couple of years in the same room. Overwhelming.
Mom went home this afternoon. Not before she cleaned my house, killed spiders, bought me food and beverage. I insist I'm okay. I tell her I don't need anything. I'm hardly fading away to nothing. Still. She thinks I don't have enough groceries.
Last night I dreamed about my own Robert Redford. In the dream he scolded me for putting my nose where it didn't belong. Words cut into my skin like only his ever could. Usually I would take the lashing in silent shame masked as indifference. Sometimes I would fight back, cutting deeper and leaving bigger scars on his skin with my own pointy daggers. Last night I listened in silence and just when he reached the end of his patience, becoming so disgusted with my silent indifference that he would just walk away, just as he turned to storm off, I collapsed in a sobbing heap at his feet, admitting my selfishness and begging forgiveness. I woke with the incredible urge to write a letter. I haven't.
With the moon so close to full, my emotions can't be trusted. Nothing I think may be real. I'm beyond a basketcase tonight.
Mood: a caged animal
Drinking: rooibos
Listening To: wind in the treetops and crows cawing in darkness (why? I've never heard birds making suck a ruckus so late before) and Sheryl Crow, C'mon C'mon
Hair: thick
Mom went home this afternoon. Not before she cleaned my house, killed spiders, bought me food and beverage. I insist I'm okay. I tell her I don't need anything. I'm hardly fading away to nothing. Still. She thinks I don't have enough groceries.
Last night I dreamed about my own Robert Redford. In the dream he scolded me for putting my nose where it didn't belong. Words cut into my skin like only his ever could. Usually I would take the lashing in silent shame masked as indifference. Sometimes I would fight back, cutting deeper and leaving bigger scars on his skin with my own pointy daggers. Last night I listened in silence and just when he reached the end of his patience, becoming so disgusted with my silent indifference that he would just walk away, just as he turned to storm off, I collapsed in a sobbing heap at his feet, admitting my selfishness and begging forgiveness. I woke with the incredible urge to write a letter. I haven't.
With the moon so close to full, my emotions can't be trusted. Nothing I think may be real. I'm beyond a basketcase tonight.
Mood: a caged animal
Drinking: rooibos
Listening To: wind in the treetops and crows cawing in darkness (why? I've never heard birds making suck a ruckus so late before) and Sheryl Crow, C'mon C'mon
Hair: thick
Friday, July 07, 2006
Ryan's Roses
On-Air with Ryan Seacrest every morning from 9am-2pm AST at 102.7 KIIS-FM in L.A. California, USA. I've been tuning in. You all know I've got a Ryan thing, but I just can't do that Idol show anymore. So this is how I get my fix. And I'm loving it! They do this bit though, called Ryan's Roses, where if you think your boyfriend or husband is cheating on you they'll give him a test. Live on the radio with the girlfriend or wife on the line one of the girls from the studio calls the man and gives him some song and dance about a promotion where he's won a bouquet of a dozen red roses that he can send to whoever he wants. No strings attached. All the guy has to do is give the name of the recipient and a message for the card and they'll get them out to her. What a trick! I know some people who need to be trying this one at home. Sometimes the guy picks the girlfriend/wife, sometimes he gives the name of a girl that nobody's heard tell of -- and that's when it gets exciting! Last week the guy said a different name and then they confronted him and he hung up. They called back. He hung up again. The fiance was a wreck. Internet relationship. What do you expect?
Mood: cheerful
Drinking: coffee, not even the cheap stuff, BEYOND the cheap stuff, I'm talking INSTANT! Can you say needs groceries?
Listening To: lawnmower man across the way returns for another annoying OCD summer
Hair: so early 80's with the flippy feathered sides
Mood: cheerful
Drinking: coffee, not even the cheap stuff, BEYOND the cheap stuff, I'm talking INSTANT! Can you say needs groceries?
Listening To: lawnmower man across the way returns for another annoying OCD summer
Hair: so early 80's with the flippy feathered sides
Missy? Moi?
Ok. Point taken. You got my attention.
This week saw the premier of my absolute favourite tv show for summer. Last year I sickened you (and myself a little) with all the talk about Marty. This year there is a new JD Fortune in the house and damn if he ain't from Canada too! I'm talking about Lukas "Jeff Buckley meets Freddie Mercury" Rossi! He didn't get the encore in tonight's elimination show, perhaps because like JD he's coming off just a bit too cocky and stirring the pot. Not that my girl Dilana did not deserve the encore. She is the real deal. Her intensity is insane. Another fave of mine is Josh. He's got a unique sound that I'm really enjoying, though I'm not sure he's right to front a band like Supernova. He should just go and cut a record already. It'll be interesting to see if he can rock it out though. I'm looking forward to that.
The other Canadian, Jenny Galt, was a little slow out of the gate. I think she might've been sick. Her performance wasn't bad, but it wasn't super fantastic either. I totally think she's got some goods though. I'll be looking for her to break out next week.
Matt Hoffer counts Metallica and The Police among his influences. His favourite song playlist includes songs by Fleetwood Mac, Ozzy Osbourne, Megadeath and Alice in Chains. Yet, when he found himself in the bottom three tonight after doing a performance last night that the band didn't think sucked, when he needed to dig deep and redeem himself with a song that would prove he was right for this band . . . he chose Duran Duran. DURAN DURAN! I liked him, would've liked to see more of him . . . but dude, you go with Duran Duran and Tommy Lee's got no choice but to kick your ass to the curb or be kicked out of the bad ass rock 'n roll boys club forever. It's like a law or something. What was he thinking?!
Truly the only one I've seen enough of already is Zayra. I hoped she would be the first to go. I've no idea why she's on the show. I don't think Supernova will be fronted by Bjork meets Marilyn Manson. Her voice is really not up to scratch, in comparision to some of the girls . . . like Storm or even little Jill Goia with the big pipes (but too pretty to stand in front of these boys maybe.)
In other reality television news, Big Brother 7 All Stars premiered tonight. As usual CBS flubbed things and accidently opened the live feeds on Tuesday afternoon for an hour, which ruined the surprise of who got voted back in and the double HOH twist. But no matter. I could not believe Will wasn't in the top 4! What's up with that? True to form, the evil doctor is just good television. I don't know how they're going to wrangle it, but I'm sure the producers will want him to stick around as long as possible. Danielle totally screwed herself over. I mean she had a really good idea there about how to get Janelle out, if only she hadn't told both sides about it. That strategy was what exactly? I didn't watch BB6. I tried, watched the first couple of episodes but just couldn't get into it. So I don't know any of those players and yeah, I was hoping they'd take that alliance down. I don't get why everyone loves Janelle. Maybe she'll grow on me, but I find her a bit annoying so far. Marcellas was so excited to get back in. And Chicken George. Good times!
Has Jase actually matured? And I don't mean in that "getting up there in the years" kinda way that Mike Boogie obviously has, I mean as a human being. Scary!
And that's all I got. Mom coming to visit this weekend. Poetry reading tomorrow night. Stories of boys and bars tomorrow maybe. Or the next day. Could be Sunday. No later than Monday.
Mood: playful
Drinking: water
Listening To: the train
Hair: i can't deny it, we've progressed into an all-out grease-fest
This week saw the premier of my absolute favourite tv show for summer. Last year I sickened you (and myself a little) with all the talk about Marty. This year there is a new JD Fortune in the house and damn if he ain't from Canada too! I'm talking about Lukas "Jeff Buckley meets Freddie Mercury" Rossi! He didn't get the encore in tonight's elimination show, perhaps because like JD he's coming off just a bit too cocky and stirring the pot. Not that my girl Dilana did not deserve the encore. She is the real deal. Her intensity is insane. Another fave of mine is Josh. He's got a unique sound that I'm really enjoying, though I'm not sure he's right to front a band like Supernova. He should just go and cut a record already. It'll be interesting to see if he can rock it out though. I'm looking forward to that.
The other Canadian, Jenny Galt, was a little slow out of the gate. I think she might've been sick. Her performance wasn't bad, but it wasn't super fantastic either. I totally think she's got some goods though. I'll be looking for her to break out next week.
Matt Hoffer counts Metallica and The Police among his influences. His favourite song playlist includes songs by Fleetwood Mac, Ozzy Osbourne, Megadeath and Alice in Chains. Yet, when he found himself in the bottom three tonight after doing a performance last night that the band didn't think sucked, when he needed to dig deep and redeem himself with a song that would prove he was right for this band . . . he chose Duran Duran. DURAN DURAN! I liked him, would've liked to see more of him . . . but dude, you go with Duran Duran and Tommy Lee's got no choice but to kick your ass to the curb or be kicked out of the bad ass rock 'n roll boys club forever. It's like a law or something. What was he thinking?!
Truly the only one I've seen enough of already is Zayra. I hoped she would be the first to go. I've no idea why she's on the show. I don't think Supernova will be fronted by Bjork meets Marilyn Manson. Her voice is really not up to scratch, in comparision to some of the girls . . . like Storm or even little Jill Goia with the big pipes (but too pretty to stand in front of these boys maybe.)
In other reality television news, Big Brother 7 All Stars premiered tonight. As usual CBS flubbed things and accidently opened the live feeds on Tuesday afternoon for an hour, which ruined the surprise of who got voted back in and the double HOH twist. But no matter. I could not believe Will wasn't in the top 4! What's up with that? True to form, the evil doctor is just good television. I don't know how they're going to wrangle it, but I'm sure the producers will want him to stick around as long as possible. Danielle totally screwed herself over. I mean she had a really good idea there about how to get Janelle out, if only she hadn't told both sides about it. That strategy was what exactly? I didn't watch BB6. I tried, watched the first couple of episodes but just couldn't get into it. So I don't know any of those players and yeah, I was hoping they'd take that alliance down. I don't get why everyone loves Janelle. Maybe she'll grow on me, but I find her a bit annoying so far. Marcellas was so excited to get back in. And Chicken George. Good times!
Has Jase actually matured? And I don't mean in that "getting up there in the years" kinda way that Mike Boogie obviously has, I mean as a human being. Scary!
And that's all I got. Mom coming to visit this weekend. Poetry reading tomorrow night. Stories of boys and bars tomorrow maybe. Or the next day. Could be Sunday. No later than Monday.
Mood: playful
Drinking: water
Listening To: the train
Hair: i can't deny it, we've progressed into an all-out grease-fest
Thursday, July 06, 2006
Spoiled
Miss a few days here and there and you'd think I'd fallen off the face of the earth. My readers are spoiled. I'm a bad parent. I've over-endulged. Spoon-fed. Given in, when I should've put my foot down. Meanwhile the complaining parties sometimes go months, and I do mean literally months, with the same headline atop their page. I was just here on Monday. What does a girl have to do to have a nervous breakdown in peace around here?
Mood: ticking
Drinking: nothing, but I could use one
Listening To: the incessant ping of email plopping into my day
Hair: shimmery
Mood: ticking
Drinking: nothing, but I could use one
Listening To: the incessant ping of email plopping into my day
Hair: shimmery
Monday, July 03, 2006
An Over-Reaction Perhaps
Ok, so the tornado activity was Glassville, not Blackville. Whew! That was close. The Sturgeons actually spent the night in the tent trailer. Utter insanity! I saw a fellow Rye High Alum on CBC covering the space shuttle story from Florida. Go Tom from PEI! My mother is coming to visit this weekend. A filthy boy knocked first on my neighbour's door and then mine when he got no response next door. Grease from head to toe. With some sort of driveway company he said. Had a photocopy flyer of some sort. I told him the house was rented, nobody with any driveway say-so living here. He didn't have a car. Walked away. Hmm. Is this one of those casing the joint scam things where I should notify the police of unusual suspects in the neighbourhood? I'm invited to a poetry reading Friday night. I'm to emcee another poetry reading in two weeks time. I'm told I'm not blogging enough. It happens.
Mood: my heads on crooked and it hurts too much to straighten
Drinking: i should have something . . . but what? but what?
Listening To: birds. hitchcock's got nothing on us
Hair: what's a girl to do with it?
Mood: my heads on crooked and it hurts too much to straighten
Drinking: i should have something . . . but what? but what?
Listening To: birds. hitchcock's got nothing on us
Hair: what's a girl to do with it?
Sunday, July 02, 2006
Edgy
Channel surfing when I hear Blackville. I stop on the Weather Channel where they're talking about this:
Stanley - Doaktown - Blackville Area
9:31 PM ADT Sunday 2 July 2006
Severe thunderstorm warning for
Stanley - Doaktown - Blackville Area continued
Radar signatures are indicating that hail in the order of 2 centimetres and a possible tornado or funnel cloud is currently moving across the extreme eastern Stanley - Doaktown - Blackville Area and into the southern Kent County and northern grand lakes and Queens County. Additionally there are secondary lines of convective cells in the remaining warning areas which will produce localized downpours and gusty winds to 90 km/h.
Jeeze Louise! It's the T word. Apparently happening right now, so they keep saying on tv. I'm hoping the Sturgeon's family camping weekend was not a two-night affair.
Mood: creepy
Drinking: the silver bullet
Listening To: weather network
Hair: greying at the roots
Stanley - Doaktown - Blackville Area
9:31 PM ADT Sunday 2 July 2006
Severe thunderstorm warning for
Stanley - Doaktown - Blackville Area continued
Radar signatures are indicating that hail in the order of 2 centimetres and a possible tornado or funnel cloud is currently moving across the extreme eastern Stanley - Doaktown - Blackville Area and into the southern Kent County and northern grand lakes and Queens County. Additionally there are secondary lines of convective cells in the remaining warning areas which will produce localized downpours and gusty winds to 90 km/h.
Jeeze Louise! It's the T word. Apparently happening right now, so they keep saying on tv. I'm hoping the Sturgeon's family camping weekend was not a two-night affair.
Mood: creepy
Drinking: the silver bullet
Listening To: weather network
Hair: greying at the roots
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