One A.M. Radio

Kellie here is your horoscope for Friday, April 30th:

A possible change in direction might present itself today. You could meet someone new or run into someone you haven't seen in a long while, and be offered an opportunity to change your entire career. Or it could become crystal clear that you need to consecrate yourself to your artistic pursuit or hobby full time. Whichever it is, Kellie, this is a great day to pursue it, and you may feel driven to do so even if you have your doubts. Your accomplishments in the past afford an advantage. Follow your instincts.

Not bad. Interesting stuff, that. Worked to the wee hours, but cut back most of the bnm stories to give design more room to play. This might be the snazziest issue yet, but we're all agreed next time is going to be off the hook! Much to do in prep for freddy. I may just pack the backpack, strap it on and go do the runaround on foot. Yes, it's far, yes, it will take a long time to complete this circuit on foot, but I can probably do it and still catch the bus. Save cab fare.

And she's off to the races!

Mood: tad sleepy
Drinking: earl grey
Listening To: bittersweet symphony, the verve
Hair: bed head

Long Day Gets Longer

at the office all day today, proofing bnm. some pretty major changes to do to stories tonight. several hours work before i can go to bed. have to get up early tomorrow. i need to do dishes, a couple loads of laundry, sweep, total my income tax receipts and send mom the figures, go to the bank, go to my landlord's office, pack, and get to the bus station by 1:30 pm. yeah! that's gonna be pretty crazy. every one of those things has to happen or i can't get on the bus. so here we go. another whirlwind weekend begins. perhaps i will check in from freddy. perhaps i will not. was supposed to go a couple of weekends ago, but it got postponed. oh well, off i go into the wild blue yonder.

Mood: tired
Drinking: earl grey
Listening To: smodcast 7, an icelander showing you your own beating heart
Hair: my maternal aunt marilyn circa 1977

New Day

Celebrity guest stars abound in last night's dreams. I had won a contest like Project Greenlight or else I had just written a script that got picked up by a bunch of fellows and we were making a movie. It's unusual for the writer to be onset all the time, to be so involved perhaps, but there I was--sitting at the end of an exhausting day of shooting on a long couch with Kevin Smith at one end, me at the other, and Ben Affleck stretched out between us. Oh, I can't even remember the conversation! How much fun is that?!

We were going over scenes. They were doing most of the talking. I was really, really tired, and overwhelmed, and completely aware that I was sitting on a couch with Kevin Smith and Ben Affleck. The couch was outside, under a canopy. It was night time, dark except for lights the crew had up. Location shoot. We had been going all day and were just on a break before we started some night shots. It was kind of funny because the location was on the Barnettville Road, right where the tracks used to run, before they straightened the road. The couch and the canopy were in the middle of the road right where the tracks had once crossed. The boys were smoking cigars, and I was starting to drift off to sleep listening to their voices. It was a little chilly, like early autumn. Crew running around everywhere. Orders being shouted.

And then I'm being scooted over so Matt Damon can join us and he's asking questions, how I found the first day, is it everything I thought it would be, am I cold, do I want his coat. And I'm sitting there scrunched in between Ben and Matt and answering questions and Kevin's cracking jokes and Ben's making fun and it's just a wonderful dream. Light and easy and fun. Good stuff! But details are fuzzy. I do remember Ben tormenting Matt making him do all his characters, chanting, "be Jason Bourne, Be Jason Bourne." And I was thinking yeah, like what's he gonna do? And then finally he was like okay, okay, and he stood up with his back turned to us and then slowly turned around and damn! He was Jason Bourne! Posture, expression, eyes, it was very cool. A good dream on a windy night.

The wind has picked up. A constant howling around my windows. In the bedroom the windows are actually rattling, like they could implode and shatter at any moment. I wanted to go out today, to the bank, to buy coffee, but I don't know, it might be too cold in the wind. I do have a propensity to freeze my ears, in any kind of wind, even in a summer breeze. I know it sounds crazy. But it's from having frozen my ears so many times when I was a kid, now they're vulnerable. So maybe I'll stay in today and go tomorrow. Check the weather and decide. I do need to go out more, I'm missing my walks, the run-around. I'm sure I've gained 10 pounds just from the lack of them.

More good news! GST comes next week! I feel like Mary Tyler Moore. I'm gonna make it afterall.

Mood: much improved
Drinking: russian tea
Listening To: howling wind
Hair: pulled back

OMG!

I think I'm going to get income tax back! The Mama's been crunching estimates and it looks like. Whew! This could save me from myself. I need to get into the receipt box. I'll start while I eat supper. I need to find something to eat for supper. This is the best news I've got in awhile now.

Mood: rising
Drinking: cold earl grey tea, black
Listening To: seagulls
Hair: pulled back off face

Panic Attacks

If you're having a good day . . . do not read on as I'll suck you into my negative force field. If you're having a bad day . . . definitely do not read on as you'll never find your way back to the light if you let me suck you down into my pool of negative ranting. And there's hope for you. You can turn it all around yet. Me . . . I'm not sure.

You have been warned. Stop reading now.

Panic attacks. Used to be only a night thing. Sunday Night Anxiety, that sometimes transgressed into the week. Weren't those the good ole days? Who knew? I don't know how I'm supposed to go to Fredericton this weekend AND go to Sackville in two weeks time AND go to Moncton in a month. I'm sickened by this whole spring deal. Maybe something good will happen. Maybe there's no need to panic. (Feeble attempt at optimism.)

I dreamed of Grandad and cousins and . . . Regis Philbin? Donald Trump? Chickens pecking on my head. I'm not sure about all that. A cousin was in trouble. I wonder if he is really. Sometimes I suspect he might be. I woke with a powerful urge to reach out and see. But then thought better of it. Dreams are never about the other person, always a reflection of self. I'm the one in trouble. Helping someone else might take my mind off it for a bit. Alleviate the panic attack. But that is all. I need to do something drastic like fall in love or go out west or . . . I don't know, something to knock this funk away.

Yesterday, I felt a little better. I looked forward to a supper of salad with pumpernickle bread and butter. I haven't been able to afford to buy food. That's the bottom line. Last week's junk food binge aside. I couldn't afford it either, but in the throes of PMS these bad choices happen. Bygones. It sounds like a simple thing, salad and pumpernickle. But it's not, Mom sent me the fixings or I'd be without. And I looked forward to it all day, even though I had no chicken wings or any meat at all to go with it. Then I went to get it ready and I noticed the salad was not the kind I normally buy. I like the field greens, this was romaine and cabbage and carrots . . . it was the carrots thing that ruined the whole experience. Carrots and my favourite raspberry dressing, do not mesh. Oh well, I soldiered on, beggars can't be choosers and all that. And then I went to slice the bread and found that it wasn't soft and light and fresh, but it was Best Before Sunday, expired, stale, on the way out.

And I sat at my table eating my salad and bread supper and just cried. I cried because I should be grateful I have anything on my table to eat at all, and I hate myself that I can't just be grateful and stop wanting more. I cried because I was disappointed. I cried because I just want to be able to buy food and cook meals again and get healthy and just be normal. I'm gaining weight from this no breakfast, no water, one-meal-a-day, non-veggy, non-protein, all starchy carbs way of eating that I feel like I'm being forced to adopt. I just want my life back. And I hate myself for wanting anything. Here I am in this wonderful big apartment, with more space than ever, a gorgeous view, eagles flying by daily, sunrises happening right in front of me, with a cozy bedroom AND a spare bedroom, walking distance to everything I might want and need, surrounded by friends and family who actually come visit and spend time with me, with a bathtub for christsake . . . and I'm frigging miserable. It's crazy for me to be like this. I am crazy. And they say money can't buy happiness . . . well, the lack of it, sure seems like it can take happiness away.

And I know this isn't permanent, I just need to recoup from the move. The move happened early and threw a huge wrench into my life. It was supposed to happen after all this April stuff, I was supposed to be poor in May and June and maybe July . . . but it would be sunny and hot and . . . I dunno, perhaps easier then. Perhaps not. But all this travel would've not been an issue had the move occurred when it was supposed to. Because I could've just hitched a ride to board meetings with others going, I would've been in town for AGM, and again I could've hitched rides with others going to Frye. Hardly any expense. Very little. But the move happened early. I had to finance it on my credit card. I had to pay rent on two apartments for one month. My minimum credit card payments are now very unreasonable. It's taking every cent I have just to keep the current apartment. Just to pay the minimums. There's nothing left over and not even really enough to do what I need to do to live.

So here I am, all moved into a place that I truly love, where all I do is cry and worry and suffer panic attacks and store fat. This is irony.

So ends today's rant. And that's all I'm going to say about that. Period. Next post will be brighter and more optimistic . . . even if I'm secretly planning to slit my wrists.

Mood: wrecked
Drinking: russian tea
Listening To: buddy above wandering the floor (does he work?)
Hair: i give up

Round & Round

Had a good weekend with the kids. They were pretty well behaved. Little fighting, nothing much. Overall they're quiet, no running around and so on, content to play cards at the table, watch movies in the bedroom, and play video games on the computer. The Missus won all my pennies in BlackJack. Her tarot reading showed mostly cups and a couple pentacles, so it's all about the love and money with her, lol. I told the Pumpkin that if her mommy gets a computer I think it would be wise to limit her time on it, because she gets away. She agreed. She does get carried away. They didn't want to go home. But that's better than being lonesome the whole time I guess. Next I must try to get the other set of kids to come for a visit. It's more challenging with them, because I have to get the routine down. And of course there are three of them, which makes them naturally more to handle. Need to have a better plan when they come, activities and things. But it'll be good! Fun stuff!

It was a good weekend for loot. Got a boxspring for my bed, courtesy of my mother who couldn't stand to have me sleeping on a mattress on the floor. So now I'm up wicked high, the highest ever, because in sackville I didn't have a bed frame, but I have one here. And my sister got a new bed, so I have her old one for my spare room. So BAM! I've gone from a mattress on the floor to two full beds! Cool. My mother also sent groceries. I keep telling her she doesn't need to. I'm not starving. But that's my mother. She said she just sent stuff from her cupboard that they weren't eating. And yes, some of it, obviously is that, but a loaf of pumpernickel bread and a bag of romaine salad? Methinks not! I also got two end tables for my living room and a lamp from my brother-in-law's parents. Their house burned down last weekend. These things were salvaged from the fire. They don't smell smoky or anything. I put the lamp in my bedroom so I can read in there at night. The lamp makes the room very cozy.

So, lots of things coming my way! Drawing in all kinds of good stuff. This is good. I start this week with some optimism.

Mood: well
Drinking: russian tea
Listening To: water running in the pipes
Hair: new conditioner coming soon to a shower near you

Black Eyes

More dreams. Not getting really good rest. My mattress is bothering me. Maybe I need a boxspring. It's hard to know what's going on. Impromptu visit last nite. Good to sit around and drink tea and just chat. Good to get your mind off the world and life for awhile. Just laugh for a bit and recharge. Kids coming today. Lunch time ETA. We'll have a good time. I will take energy from their giggles and keep it with me to last the whole week. Soon I'll hit into that very cool springtime high I always get, when all I will see is possibility. Can't wait! It's gonna happen. Soon.

The ice grows thinner every day. The black water surfacing. I study the different shadings and as ice melts and water pools in pockets on the surface. It's like a desert mirage. The birds playing, fighting, flying around one another, swooping into one another. The eagle is boss. When he comes, all the others scatter, flee in flocks. I see things here, outside my window. The huge bird (was it the eagle? the sun is too bright to tell) cruising past my window in strong strokes, the squirrel clutched in his beak squirming and try to loose itself. Just now I saw this. I could sit and stare out the window all day long. Maybe I should.

Mood: unusual
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: national health, the kinks
Hair: maybe i need a new touchstone

Meme Time!

If you had to choose just one, would you rather...

... live in the city or in the suburbs? in a city

... be a good cook or have a good cook? have a good cook

... be the Prime Minister or the King/Queen of a country? be the queen

... be married or have a child? be married

... be a clothing designer or a designer's model? clothing designer

Who is your favorite news anchor/reporter? Why?
I don't really have a favourite. I enjoy Seamus O'Reagan, Evan Solomon, and George Strompol- . . . George with the big funny name. I like Seamus because he's adorable and down to earth and he loves U2 and he's from Newfoundland. I like Evan because he's tall and handsome and Jewish and really smart and he likes books a lot. And I like George because he's hip and young and blunt and kinda silly.

Name 3 foods that are currently in your freezer.
chili, stir fry vegetables, salmon burgers

If you were to have the opportunity to name a new town or city, what would you call it?
Nnuggarom

What will most likely be the next book you read?
Frank's Biography

What's the first thing you notice about the opposite gender?
Height.

What do you dream about?
That's a loaded question.

Who has been mean to you, lately?
My ex-landlord

What makes you tremble in fear?
tornadoes

Tell us something you've destroyed:
love

Do you feel in control over your life?
sometimes

If you could suddenly speak one language fluently (that you don't currently speak) what would it be?
Italian

If you were to suggest a foreign film, that you really enjoyed, what one would you suggest?
Life is Beautiful

If you had to call another country home (other than the one you currently live in) what one would you choose?
I have not traveled enough to say for sure, perhaps Ireland.

If you went out to buy an import music CD, what one would you buy?
I'm not sure. Does this question mean I can't get it here without importing? Or can I say any band from a foreign country? Like U2? Perhaps Amy Winehouse isn't available here yet.

If you were to chose an ethnic dinner, what would it be?
Indian

Name the last seven specific items that you purchased at the grocery store.
2L Big 8 Diet Cola, Humpty Dumpty Dill Pickle Chips, Humpty Dumpty Salt 'n Vinegar Chips, Humpty Dumpty Ketchup Chips, 1L Death by Chocolate ice cream, 24 tablet bottle ibuprofen, 3 bars Jergen soap

Ten Things You Hate Doing:
dishes, dusting, sweeping, bartending sober, procrastinating, exercising, drawing, being late, making mistakes, anything crafty

Mood: uncertain
Drinking: nothing
Listening To: nothing
Hair: slimy

Only Us

Wil says you can't give up hope even if it's hopeless. Sound advice. Lisa's talking about balance and how the key is to be able to keep it together when life throws its curveballs. Just last night I was wondering what the hell happened, what is going on my friends? It's like my life cycles. I'm up, I'm great, I feel fantastic. I'm down, I'm terrible, I feel like crap. The trick is definitely to be able to maintain during the lows and not let it all fall apart. I am not there yet. I do well, very well, sometimes months at a time, then I lose it. For the first two weeks after the move I was riding high, living the life I wanted . . . and then it fell apart. Stress. It's a killer. Literally. I'm not getting any younger, I need to do something, NOW! Right now. I need to come up with a plan, I need to take action. I have to stop sitting around and waiting for life to magically improve. I need to make it better. It's all up to me.

Mood: pained
Drinking: coffee, nearing the bottom of the $3.79 kilo
Listening To: lonely dirges, paul michel
Hair: forgotten, abandoned, growing wild like weeds . . .

S-A-D

Just had to pass on impromptu invite for lunch with friend :-( This makes me sad. If I stay inside alone for many more days I will develop SAD (Social Anxiety Disorder) and not want to go anywhere, ever. At the prospect of facing a long winter, every autumn I get SAD (Seasonal Affective Disorder.

Is it just me or is there a lot of sadness going around?

Mood: sad
Drinking: coffee with cream
Listening To: fingers clacking, drips dripping, stuff sliding across the ceiling
Hair: beyond sad

Second Wind

Exhausted only moments ago. I laid down for 15 minutes. Just laid, eyes open, stretched out flat. Then I got up and ate leftovers from yesterday's not so great pork supper. Drank a bunch of diet Big 8 cola. And then spent a few minutes on the phone remembering my childhood. The camp. Well, well, well, three holes in the ground. Frig, I love wieners! Man oh man, would you look at that cloud? I remember my cousin doing Bob & Doug McKenzie round the campfire at night. Oh no, the magic bunny! Simpler then. Being a kid is good sometimes.

I think my two nieces will come have a sleepover this weekend. First one on my own in the new place. It'll be fine. We'll have a good time. I need to make more effort with the kids. Before they slip away and grow up on me. Opportunity. I need to seize them all. I want to be able to have sleepovers with the other kids too. I need to practice counting carbs and giving needles. I seem like I see them less since I moved than I did when I lived away. That's kind of weird. I haven't been going upriver much. Only once since the move really. Only Oscar weekend. When are the Junos? This weekend? Next? I should go.

Talks of a murder mystery night in the air, perhaps I'll go then. I'll be the gypsy and predict the killer.

Mood: whipped
Drinking: tar
Listening To: running to the rain, peter gabriel
Hair: off my face at least

I am Frank and Frank Must . . .

I dreamed I had a stalker. Guy I went to school with. He always repulsed me. And I dreamed he was stalking me and had threatened to do something to the kids if I didn't give him some time. And I decided (rather than call the police and report him) I would take matters into my own hands. So I invited him over to my parent's house, which was not their house really, but a Cape Cod style on the coast. My parents, sisters, brother-in-laws, and children were all out back at the marina on board a huge sailing boat/tall ship that they were getting ready for sea. Scrubbing, painting, patching holes in nets and sails. Everyone was younger. My parents, my sisters, even the kids. There were only three of them and they were just toddlers. I warned them I had invited him over and told them to stay out of the house, keep the kids especially away from him, and not to worry about me. I'd fix this. He showed up early, wearing a brown suit, carrying a bouquet of flowers, hair slicked back, cheshire grin. He just walked into the kitchen behind me without knocking or warning. Found me at the stove stirring a sauce, wearing faded old jeans and a blue plaid snap shirt untucked. No make-up, hair pulled back off my face un-styled. A wave of disappointment crossed his face. He expected more. A little black dress, strappy sandals, a flushed face, gleaming head of hair. "Hi," he said. "I thought we were going out." My smile tight and thin, "I thought we'd stay in." Poison in the sauce. I intend to eliminate him. Poison his sorry ass then toss the body off the ship when we take her out tomorrow. But even as I'm stirring the sauce and thinking about the task at hand I have a premonition of him and the children. I know he's got the kids. I whip around, wooden spoon raised, to find his grin, a devilish twinkle in his eyes. "I thought you might feel that way," he says. "I took the liberty of precautions to ensure we'll not be disturbed."

And then I wake-up. And I'm still tired, but I know this dream is going nightmarish pretty quickly. If I close my eyes I'll go back there and have to deal with him and whatever the hell he's done. And most likely there will be nothing I can do to stop whatever hideous stuff is going to happen. So even though I've only been asleep for 3 hours and I'm exhausted still, even though I should stay horizontal for at least another 2 hours if I want any wits about me in the real world. My feet hit the floor and I rise to meet the day.

Mood: overwhelmed
Drinking: coffee, with cream
Listening To: fingers clacking across the typewriter
Hair: washed recently, tho you'd never know it

(You Want To) Make a Memory

Hello again
it's you and me
kinda always like it used to be
sipping wine
killing time
trying to solve life's mysteries . . .

Hmm, I think he sees me in his dreams too! Listen here. Brand new, just released to radio today. Album drops in June. Will there be another tour? And even more importantly will I go? That is the question.

Snow today. When will winter wither away? (Yes, I am a fan of alliteration.) I'm ready for some spring and summer dammit! Though I do confess I'm already wondering about lightning in this new setting . . . and waterspouts . . . and all that great stuff that drives me crazy. I'm only semi-wondering though, nowhere near obsessive, like I can get in a bad season.

Today is Tuesday and I am cooking a roast of pork. I have no baby carrots, no vegetables really to speak of, except for some frozen of the stir-fry variety. But there are a few potatoes sprouting many eyes in the cupboard that I could whip up to go with the meat. It'll be okay. The grocery situation is still the pits here. I got some pizzas on sale on Friday, some nachos and salsa. I've been craving these things. It's terrible to have cravings and zero dollars to buy anything. It's like being back in university living here. It's like being 20 again. Except back then I just ignored everything financial and now it seems like all I do now is worry about money. I hate being this way. Not that ignoring is the way to go either. But other than quitting my job and going to something else, like a crazy call centre, I don't have a clue what to do to fix it though. And I like my job, you know. I love the people I work with. Do I want to give that up just so I can buy groceries? Absolutely not. Fasting is good for the soul! Just kidding, I'm not without food or anything. I'm just tired of rice and beans and not being able to buy what I want. It was bound to happen.

I'm longing for a day when I have a hundred dollars to go to the store and buy . . . cheese! And olives! And hummus and salad and chicken wings that I can slather in Frank's Hot Sauce (I need to buy Frank's Hot Sauce) and pita and tea and coffee beans and dark chocolate and . . . you know, whatever the hell I feel like. I'm living like my parents now. One loaf of bread and jar of peanut butter to the next. Canned goods. Kraft Dinner can't be that far off.

Oh, it'll be okay. I'm surely exaggerating and just wallowing a bit due to grey weather and pms. I get crazy about money every year at this time, because April is always such an expensive month is all . . . and usually I have income tax to help with it, but this year I don't and I don't know how I'm going to make it, how I'm going to meet all my commitments to people without going nuts. But before April is the rent. I have $2.38 in my bank account. I need to find $600 for April Fool's. I have to find $60 to go to Fredericton on the bus the Friday of April fools. I can get that money back, but I need to get it upfront first. I need money for a train ticket to Sackville for AGM. I need money to renew my WFNB membership and register for AGM and pay for hotel. This is one of those years when I just wouldn't have gone, wouldn't have renewed, would have let it all slide, but this year that's not an option. I need to find a rock like my mother has in the backyard. Once the snow goes, I'll look. Perhaps I can find a man with lots of money and we can exchange favours. I'm not opposed. Perhaps I'll just wish for money and it'll appear. Perhaps I'll stop thinking about it altogether and go do something productive with the rest of my afternoon.

Now, that's the only sensible thought I've had all day.

Mood: pretty good
Drinking: coffee with cream
Listening To: jon bon & my phone ringing (wrong number!)
Hair: stringy

What is the colour of love?

Today was one of those days where I quite simply ate everything in sight. The day after the mega-hangover is generally like that. Nachos with cheese, french fries, fish, yeah, it might not seem like a lot, but trust me, it is. I spent most of the day on the phone, or in front of the tv, eating or drinking. Much water being consumed here today. Though I notice I'm down to my last bottle. Note to self -- buy more water. I like Sunday morning television on CBC. The full week of Cornonation Street. Evan Solomon. Land & Sea. It's just good stuff. It's easy to get lost under the covers til noon dozing in and out of CBC docs.

DVDs watched this weekend include Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Reality Bites, The Favourite Game, Singles, and Disco Pigs. Perhaps technically Cameron Crowe's addition to the list should not count because I did mostly sleep through it, fell dead to world last evening just after my favourite line, "I was just . . . nowhere near your neighbourhood." Is that even halfway? Methinks not. Late yesterday afternoon I watched the one from Leonard Cohen's novel. I've only seen it once or twice and not anytime recently. I had forgotten practically everything. I enjoy JR Bourne though. He is one of my favourite Canadian actors. He was on Godiva's. Is that still on? I used to enjoy that show too. But I've lost touch with tv programming. Earlier today I watched Eternal Sunshine and did not cry! That's some kind of record I'm sure. Ohh, but I do love it! She is just amazing in that movie. I had a sudden urge to put in Titanic afterward, just to see more of her American accent. But I didn't. I found myself oddly drawn to Pig and Runt again. My boy, Cillian, in the first role I ever saw him in, the one that made me a fan. And once again the final scene ripped out my heart and turned me into a blubbering mess. The colour of love is blue. He hands her the red t-shirt but she takes the blue dress from under his head instead. Because the last thing she wants him to see is the colour of love. And he doesn't fight but goes willing and my heart breaks every time. Disco Pigs brings out the big old sloppy tears, the jagged sobs, the fetal position, a burying of my head in the pillow, a hugging of knees. Why do I do that to myself? Repeatedly.

All in all it was a good weekend. I didn't get much work done, but maybe that's okay, maybe I needed to get my head out of it to get fresh again. Maybe I needed to rest my fingers, wrist and all the other joints that I'd been killing all week, pressing through the pain. Today, I notice marked improvement. I had a good time during a spontaneous sleepover with friends. Is there anything better than staying up all night with a good friend, drinking and conversation til nearly dawn? I haven't been doing this enough over the past few years. I used to do it every night of the week. THAT was excessive. But every once in awhile is a good thing.

Mood: content
Drinking: water
Listening To: people overhead
Hair: facing an impending alteration

Another Look

Speak to Me

Here with friends after evening of wine and vodka and rum. Snowstorm. In bed after 3am, up again after 7am. Happy St. Pat's! Cheers!

Mood: head achy
Drinking: coffee with cream, glass of water
Listening To: Sam's Town, The Killers
Hair: mussed

Bueller? ... Bueller? ... Bueller? ...

No dry eyes here. Just dry skin. Very dry. Up late last night again. Slow to get around this morning. It's hard to get up when your body has seized up in the night. Everything stiff. Everything achy. These are the days I dislike most. And it's dark and dreary and wet outside, which doesn't help. 4 degrees at 8am. Hovering just above zero is painful stuff. Perhaps I'll adjust. Perhaps. No time to dally here today I'm afraid. Duty calls. Opinions are expected.

Mood: achy
Drinking: coffee, black
Listening To: my own yawns
Hair: someday soon something shocking seems suitable

Figuring It All the Way Out

So I've been kinda half wondering what the frig is wrong with me these past couple days, since Saturday anyway. Why am I so tired? Why am I spending more and more time in bed and less time doing the things I need to be doing? And this morning as I tried for a good 10 minutes to comfortably get myself from my bed on the floor to a standing position, it dawned on me -- arthritis flare! Yes! Now we're talking. Of course, this makes tremendous sense. Temperatures have gone above freezing. Seasons are starting to shift. The air fluctuating. I realized on Saturday that I was super sore, really stiff, especially in through my legs and back, but I had taken a pretty bad tumble on Friday afternoon, slipped on the ice, fell on my knee and whacked it so bad I nearly passed out from the pain of it. I have a high threshold for pain. If I'm passing out, you know it's severe. So Saturday I just thought I was having residual effects. But yesterday as I noticed my Grammie Coughlan-like swelled ankles, and struggled to get my fingers to use the can-opener, the truth started to come clear. This morning, sealed the deal.

First spring flare. Nothing more. Nothing less. Bad timing for sure. And me with zero ibuprofen. But it is what it is. Just need to pay better attention today, listen to my joints, baby them a bit. Give them breaks and a bit of a variety.

This too will pass.

Mood: ok
Drinking: coffee, cheap & black (someday i will be able to grind my own beans again. someday.)
Listening To: people getting off to work in the building
Hair: too long for comfort, not long enough to tie up and forget about

Wasted Days & Wasted Nites AKA I Don't Like Mondays

What a freaking crazy day! 12 hours later and I'm sitting here wondering what the eff happened? I certainly don't feel like I got much of anything accomplished. Is this daylight savings screwing with my productivity? And I thought it was supposed to work wit me, not agin me. Yup, Hank Hill says.

It is almost 8pm and not dark. I'm watching dusk descend through my window. It's warm enough that I don't need to close the curtains and blinds as soon as the sun got around the side of the building. Indigo sky. Perfection.

I think I should apply for a grant. I'm feeling a grant. Everyone else is getting stuff. If only I dared to try for things. Imagine the possibilities.

Going to Fredericton this weekend. Nothing says St. Patty's Day like a Freddy road trip . . . hopefully, sans criminal this year. Tho everytime I get on the train there it is with a tattooed shifty eyed guy off the correctional van and heading to halifax, so who knows. I think I'll be going the wrong way for such things.

Mood: weird
Drinking: ???
Listening To: god save the queen, sex pistols
Hair: i don't even know anymore

Time Change

"Generally, by the time you are real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, Because once you are real you can't be ugly, Except to people who don't understand." -- The Velveteen Rabbit

God love us! Everyone! I am screwed up by the time change. It's already almost 8 o'clock!! But my body doesn't think so. It's like time zone travel, my internal watch is still set to "home" time. Except there's no place to go to get back on track. My time change confusion is not helped by the fact my computer clock did not adjust itself either. Three weeks early. I seem to recall experiencing a slight problem with last fall's time change too. And this year that's not happening when it's supposed to either. Somehow we get more daylight out of this and it helps to conserve energy. The more daylight thing doesn't really make sense to me. There is no more, it's all just happening an hour later. I'm too sleepy and f@#$ed up from daylight savings to figure out daylight savings. Huge week on the rise. Huge. Lots to do.

Mood: tired
Drinking: coffee, black (i am living in a creamless society)
Listening To: nothing, absolutely nothing, again
Hair: perhaps, and it's just a thought, but perhaps i can actually buy some dye this week, give myself a little razoring, and feel like a new person

I am Beautiful

Gorgeous morning sunshine. Another beauty day on the river . . . if we all don't freeze to death! Yeah, it's pretty darn cold with arctic air and a major wind chill warning in effect. Exposed skin will get frostbite in minutes. So, it's settled. I'm staying in! No romping about town on foot for me. When spring is finally sprung I will walk everywhere everyday all the time. I can't wait!

So yesterday I went to the movies with the kids. Saw Happy Feet. It was pretty good. The theatre was absolutely packed. Toonie matinees. Aye-yi-yi! A little daunting. Afterward my sister treated me to a Big Mac. I cannot remember the last time I had one of those. It was interesting.

My mother sent me a loaf of homemade bread. That's exciting! I'm looking forward to a soy burger later on homemade toast. Yummy! I may be having company this week. I hope so.

Duty calls.

Mood: happy feet
Drinking: coffee with 1%skim milk
Listening To: ryan calling his nana to see what to stock the fridge with for her visit
Hair: ponied high

Everybody Gets a Star

Gorgeous sunshine, but damn chilly outside. Kids sleigh ride cancelled due to it being 40 below. There is a wind chill warning in effect. Still my pumpkin and the missus are dropping by later for a picnic lunch in my living room (picnic as in packed and brought from their home, cuz i have no food for them). Then they are going to a Toonie matinee showing of Happy Feet at the theatre. I should go with them. Even though I don't have time. I should make time. I don't know if I can handle a March Break theatre full of kids though. I've been getting a lot of headaches this week. The knock-off tylenol I have does not help in the least. I need some ibuprofen.

Last night I watched some of the second season of Project Greenlight on dvd, The Battle of Shaker Heights. I enjoy the Project Greenlight show. It's too bad they stopped. It's interesting to see how they make movies, how it takes so many people working together. And these are small sets! They only have a million dollars to make the whole movie. It's crazy to think about the big productions and what it must take to get them made. It's inspiring too. I get inspired when I watch these types of things. Being a screenwriter is a shit job though. I can see that easily enough. The only way is to write & direct your own stuff. Like Cameron Crowe. Like Kevin Smith. He must make a living. I've been listening to his smodcast on itunes. Love him!

Last night I spent a good 3 hours putting together my piece on last week's murder mystery evening, but then I accidentally deleted it from my computer. Yeah, this crap happens sometimes. So now I've got to do it all over again.

Mood: great
Drinking: rooibos tea
Listening To: don't wanna, db clifford
Hair: stringy

Bright Sunshiny Life

I am obsessed with an idea. Couldn't sleep last night without dreams about it. Am writing a story. Not here, but elsewhere. It's very draft, very first person, very . . . I don't know, off the cuff. Fingers to keyboard and let fly. This is a different way to create for me. Normally I edit, rewrite, and edit some more in the process. So my first drafts are always more like third drafts. Nothing hits the page until the words are perfect in my head. So this letting go, this freedom to let fly without any thought, is new and scary and kinda hard to do. Maybe I'll finally write that Harlequin Romance and make a million. Maybe that's how people make money writing. And Lord knows I need to make some freaking money.

Last night I watched "A Love Song for Bobby Long" for the second or maybe third time. It's another one that grows on me. I'm not a huge fan of John Travolta. I can take him or leave him and I mostly leave him. But I love, love, love, Scarlett Johanson. I was surprised when I got weepy during the movie though. I intended to just put it in and fall asleep during. I thought it was that kind of movie. But instead I got sucked in and ended up weepy. It's a good movie. Enjoyable. Interesting. I'm hoping my Zip movies will come today. There are four new titles enroute. I've only got a couple of weeks left in my membership before I have to let it go. I won't get to see all the Oscar-nominated films before then. Oh well, maybe I can join again later. Right now, it's impossible.

Today I need to go to the bank, which is good, the walk will absolutely do me a world of good. I also need to do some laundry, some dishes, and a lot of writing. So, I'm off.

Mood: creatively weird
Drinking: coffee, black (we're all out of white stuff)
Listening To: very loud refrigerator droning (it may be on the brink of extinction)
Hair: i don't want to think about my hair

Day's End

Heading to bed soon. Well to the futon in front of a movie at least. Seems to be the place for me this weekend. I want to get up early tomorrow morning. Lots to do. Big week ahead. Today I made a potato scallop. Just a tiny one to use up the rest of my skim milk that was just past its best before. I threw in a few freezer burned corn nibblets hanging around the back of the fridge and an onion. I didn't have any cream of soup to add. So it wasn't perfect, but not bad. A bit runny, but that too was okay because I have a loaf of bread I am trying to finish off before it molds, so I used a few slices to mop up juice. Reading this over, it kinda sounds unappetizing, lol, but I assure you, it was quite delish! Some chicken would be a wonderful thing. My kingdom for a wiener! Not that I am without protein, of course. I have some tofu still and a few packages of fish. This will be the week of fish and potatoes. And there's nothing wrong with that. A little white fish, a little salmon, it does the body good.

Today I watched one of my favourite movies of all time, "Intermission" with my boy Cillian Murphy. I know I've talked about this movie before. If you've ever come to stay at my house, no doubt, I made you watch this movie with me. Not that it would be any chore to do, because it's pretty darn good. I have seen this movie, oh my gosh, I've no idea how many times, I would have to say it must be close to 20, and I still laugh out loud. It's dark and different and so much fun. It's especially fun to watch with someone who's never seen it before. It makes me giggle. So I watched it today because I wanted a giggle. I'm discovering I really don't have a great many films in my library that cause giggles. Last night I watched "I Heart Huckabees" which absolutely makes my toes curl. Mark Wahlberg is fantastic! Did you need to study existentialism in university in order to love this one? I don't think so . . . though could someone who loves "Fight Club" as much as I do, be expected to feel any differently about Huckabees? I think not. Hilarity ensued.

It occurs to me that I might want to watch "Fight Club" tonight. Would that not be the perfect follow-up?

Also today I watched "Far From Heaven" with Dennis Quaid and Julianne Moore. I've seen this three times now, and every time I like it more. The first time I didn't get that much out of it, but it's one of those movies that creeps up on you, that you think about and think about and then watch again. She didn't actually win the Oscar, did she? But she's very good. And Dennis Quaid! He's very, very good. This not having tv thing is doing interesting things to my mind I think.

Mood: a little glum, but only a little
Drinking: nothing
Listening To: nothing
Hair: who knows? i try not to think about it

Imagination

I'm discovering my imagination again. Sitting here this morning, creating something new, something unexpected, unplanned. I'd forgotten how vivid I can see things, how quickly I can make up whole new worlds and people. So much of my writing this last while has come from the past, my past, not all of it true of course, but I've tended to use memory as the jumping off point, to work through my life issues by writing it out of me.

This morning I wanted to write, but I didn't want to look backward or inward. I didn't want to be serious or morose. I didn't want to frighten myself or embroil my subconscious in conflict. I longed for something . . . refreshing. Light. So I put my fingers to the keyboard and jumped in, a blank slate, no personal experience, no memory. And quite by surprise, without any hesitation whatsoever, I started writing a letter. A letter from a sister to her brother. A letter describing a new life, new people, a new home, a party to attend that evening. And I got excited. I googled for pictures of her house and fell in love with designing it. I closed my eyes and stood on the porch outside the party where she is to be guest of honour. I listened to the music and eavesdropped on the conversations. So much fun! Where did she come from? Who is this girl? What will happen at this party? Who is that man standing over there? Does she see him looking at her? Will he ask her to dance?

I had forgotten how much I enjoy writing about parties. I had forgotten the exhilaration of imagination. The joy in creating something brand new out of nothing. I don't do this kind of playful exploratory type writing nearly enough. It's been much too long I think.

Mood: cheerful
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: a vacuum upstairs
Hair: secured in a white speckled royal blue elastic headband

2 West (Part I)

Phone call. Departure less than two hours. Weekend road trip. Spontaneity. Jealous friends and family. Lucky! Overnight bag packed. Jeans. T-shirt. Socks. Panties. Make-up. Toothbrush. Nightie. Excitement. Anticipation.

She wears white leather sandals, a peach ribbed knit tank top, and a flirty mint green mini-skirt. Less sticky than wearing shorts on such a long drive. He arrives early. He always arrives early or right on time, never late. She often forgets to bring things in the race of leaving preparation. She always runs to the car as soon as he honks, not wanting to keep him waiting, not wanting to disappoint. He declines all invitations to enter the house for drinks and socialising.

Enroute to Montreal. CBC Radio because it's the only station that will come in, he says. She shrugs and looks out the window, prefers CBC over the usual country tunes. She kicks off her sandals, folds her legs to sit on her bare feet, turns in the seat, back to the window and faces him. He tells stories, remembering other road trips, other girls, his ex-wife. She nods, smiles, giggles when expected, lowers her eyes and ignores the ache in her chest every time he says his wife's name.

Picked up a girl at a truck stop in New Jersey and took her to Halifax. Hooker. Gonna be a dancer. Tried to fuck me every inch of the way. Thought I was gonna have to put her out of the cab—You didn't fuck her?—Nah—C'mon! You fucked her, didn't you?—No, really I didn't—You can tell me, I won't tell nobody—What? You think every man takes every piece of tail offered to him?—Well, don't they?—Hell no!—Seriously, you're telling me you drove from New Jersey to Halifax with a girl who tried to fuck you all the way and nothing happened?—That's what I'm telling you—Ok . . . So now tell me the truth————Yeah, I fucked her

He reaches behind his seat and pulls out a six-pack of beer. For her. For the long drive. She smiles, thanks him and opens one, feeling obligated though not wanting. Service stations and rest areas hours apart. She can drink four beer before having to pee.

One time I lived on the streets in Chicago—You're shitting me!—No really, I didn't have no work and didn't know nobody—How'd you live? How'd you eat?—I squatted in slum houses on skid row and people give me things sometimes. I wasn't there long—That's pretty crazy—Yeah . . . one time I robbed a guy—No way! You're lying now—Yeah, I seen this guy in the alley and it was late and nobody was around and I didn't have nothing—Really? Are you being serious now? What happened?—I come at him from behind, surprised him. Drug him to the ground and give him a good punch in the head. He was just a little guy—Oh my god, that's nuts! He could've had a gun or a knife or knew karate or something—Yeah but he didn't. He give up his money real easy, was more afraid of me than I was him—Like a god damned spider or something—Wha? Yeah, maybe something like that. There was a minute there when I had my hands around his throat that I knew I could kill him right there, right then, crush his windpipe with my bare hands—Jesus!—I could feel this power in my hands and I knew I could get away with it. And I felt tempted, you know? It was tempting just to see what it felt like—What did you do?—I give him another good punch, took the money and run—Well that's what you'd say no matter what you did—You're right there

They stop on the edge of a small town at a Chinese restaurant frequented by truck drivers. He always stops here. He nods to waitresses and says hello to patrons he knows. She suggests they order a variety of dishes and share. He tells her to get whatever she wants, he's paying, and he'll get what he already knows is good. He orders a combination plate with sweet 'n sour chicken balls and honey garlic ribs. He has timed everything so they will arrive at his usual haunts during meal hours. She craves something new, pizza or burgers, anything to make this trip hers.

I don't blame her for leaving—No?—She never forgive me—For what?—For that girl—The hooker from New Jersey?—No! The one from home—Who? When? What did you do?—Just a girl. About 10 years ago. She teased me, wouldn't leave me alone and I gave in, lasted three months—YOU cheated on your wife?!—Hey, you're no saint to talk—I know. I just thought you were different is all—Yeah well, it was the sorriest thing I ever done, ruined us, she never forgive me—But that was ages ago and she only left last year, and you know she wasn't no saint either, everybody knew it—I never had no proof of any of those things—Oh c'mon! You found her at his house for christsake! What exactly do you think she was doing there?—They could've just been friends like she said—Like we've been friends maybe—I never saw anything—You were blind—Well maybe I still am, but all I know is that I done her wrong and she never forgive me

Ahead of schedule. He calculates mileage in his head and determines they will arrive at least an hour too soon. He stops at a tourist attraction, a hiking trail through the woods beside a brook, a waterfall at the end. He shoots off ahead in a determined stride and doesn't look back. Her sandals slip on moss covered rocks. Her skirt billows around her waist showing pink bikini panties to anyone looking. She struggles through the path trying to keep her balance and smooth her skirt down at the same time. Stopping to hold her skirt in place and let other hikers pass her on the trail. They meet on his return from the falls. He says it's not much to see, the walk has taken longer than he anticipated and they'll have to hurry to make up time. He takes her hand and leads her back to the car.

Live in concert! One night only—Where did you tell everyone you were going?—Said you were whisking me away to Montreal for a romantic weekend—It's hardly a weekend, just overnight, be home again tomorrow night—Oh—Actually not going to Montreal either—Oh—Yeah, it's more like Cornwall—But that's Ontario—Uh huh—We're going to spend the whole time driving—Pretty much—I see. Well at least we can have a nice supper someplace, gotta eat after all—Yep. They do a really nice pork chop at the truck stop we're meeting the guy at

Mood: creative/drowsy
Drinking: Water/nothing
Listening To: Are You Beautiful? -- Chris Pierce/Sunday Bloody Sunday -- U2
Hair: mussed from fingers raking scalp/hairsprayed to my scalp

Mother Goose

I have a Salvador Dali calendar in the dining room/office, which I just flipped to March this morning. I never understand what it all means, but yet I am drawn almost to the point of distraction. I probably should read up on the paintings. Someday.

Last night I went to a murder mystery evening with the Purple Hat Ladies. Loads of fun! Really good time. Interesting. Met some new people. I'll write more about it later. Only $12.50 for a cab to Chatham from here. I expected $15, so that's pretty good. Do-able at least some times. Anything that I would be going to Chatham for would be work/writer related, so all those cab rides are claimable expenses. This year I receipt EVERYTHING! I know I may have said that last year, but it wasn't as dire as this year. This is the year when I have to get on top of those things, get used to keeping better track.

Still no sign of snow here. Sun was out awhile ago, warming my front rooms. When I open the curtains in the morning, if the sun is already up, it's like turning on a furnace. Crazy! And blinding too.

In the drafts section of my blog I'm working on some fiction. I'm not sure what it's all about, how it's winding up, but I should be able to post it in another few days. The first half went quick, but I'm a little stuck on it now. I'm probably 3/4 finished though, so something will click soon. Today I have a writer friend coming over for brunch and conversation. Looking forward to that! But mustn't sit here all day blogging, as I've got a brunch to prepare!

Mood: anticipating
Drinking: coffee, the beyond super-cheap $3.99 for a kilo zellers kind (thanks mom!)
Listening To: clackity clack, don't talk back
Hair: do i see a hair make-over in my future?