Begin Again

Dilana has lost me. It started weeks ago when she did The Who song. I hated her arrangement, thought she butchered the thing. And her whole low register rasp was getting boring. So she adds some higher notes this week on Every Breath You Take, which goes a long way to begin sucking me back in, and then she turns out to be a real bitch. Women have to be careful, they can't get away with the same kind of arrogance that a man can. Now Storm has lots of cocky arrogance, but it comes across as playful and self-assured, Dilana is just coming across as mean and bitchy. Not good. She may very well be the front runner, but I wouldn't buy a ticket to see her in concert.

Ryan Star is bringing it baby! He wants this gig and he wants it bad. He's totally winning me over and becoming my boy. Oh Lukas, Lukas, Lukas Rossi. What's going on? I think he's a really shy person or something, naturally introverted and quiet. He came on strong at first and I think it was an act, now weeks later he's settling into himself and we're all getting to see who he really is. That's my theory. With Dilana too, that now she's more comfortable and being more like herself, which in her case is not very endearing. But I still hold out hope for Lukas. He might be too short to front Supernova, but I would buy a ticket to see him. I think Magni is a front runner with Tommy Lee and the boys, and he is growing on me too, I'm not creeped out by him anymore. I really liked the Supernova track debuted this week, though I think I would've rather seen Lukas or Ryan perform it.

Trying to get my head around work and how to do things and what stuff I need that I am missing and will never have again. I just keep telling myself that it's okay. I went on the treadmill for a couple of miles awhile ago. I don't get to walk much outside when I am here, so the exercise was good. Great for the brain. Today a couple of miles, soon a marathon. How crazy will that be?! Anyway, time to work or eat or do something productive.

Mood: optimistic
Drinking: water
Listening To: Let's Get It On, Marvin Gaye
Hair: in my eyes

Crash & Burn

Sunday evening on a tea and chocolate break from an intense flurry of work activity my computer sputtered beside me and went black. Yes, the black screen of death came calling and my pc answered. I knew this wasn't good. Tuesday evening my boss picked me up to bring me and my dark hard drive back to the river for revitalization. Sadly, the computer did not pull through. I lost all my data. All the submissions for bnm, all the submissions for nb ink, all my email addresses and bookmarks, all my creative writing, all my music, my life as I know it. Some stuff can be salvaged from hard copies, discs and dvds. Some stuff is gone forever. I feel resigned. I feel like a purging was forced upon me. I feel like I was supposed to start over with a clean slate. Tear it down and build it better. Still, it's a shock. Yes, backing up is a good idea. So send me a link to your blog or website so I can find you again. Email me and let me know how to get in touch because I've lost your address and don't have many memorized in this old brain of mine. Send me anything you sent me before that I might need. Not sure how long I'll be on the Miramichi. Maybe I'll see you while I'm here.

Mood: tired
Drinking: king cole tea
Listening To: ticking clock
Hair: mother says my bangs are too long

Loose in the Asylum

So Thursday night I was asleep before 2am which, if you follow my escapades, is a decent time for me, normal, good for rest. I try not to do the alarm thing unless absolutely necessary (like to make sure I get the garbage out on Wednesday morning). For the most part though I try to let my body wake on its own. If I end up sleeping 14 hours every now and then that's fine, I figure my body must need the rest. Usually though I'm asleep somewhere between two and three and I wake up on my own around 10. I'm fairly consistent.

Anyway, Thursday night it kind of felt like I even went to bed a little early and I was so tired I was out as soon as I hit the sack, fell into a deep sleep. Woke yesterday morning before 9am feeling like I had been run over by an 18-wheeler in the night. Dragged my sorry ass out of bed though because it was Friday and I had meetings to attend and wits to collect about me beforehand and most importantly On-Air with Ryan Seacrest (no Ryan's Roses yesterday, unless I missed it, and it seemed almost to be a repeat show, tho they never announced that it was, weird). I was a frigging zombie all day, yawning and finding it really difficult to concentrate. I could not wait to go back to bed! Contemplated taking a nap, but decided it might screw up my system, better to sleep at bedtime.

And then somehow I ended up in front of the tv through Letterman and my favourite guy, Craig Ferguson. And as if that wasn't late enough I got sucked into an episode of What Not to Wear. Then I went to bed and read for at least an hour. I could've read longer, but I was dangerously close to seeing dawn and that would've been too crazy when I had been so tired all day long. So heading into 5am I fell asleep and dreamed wicked dreams of tornados and family gatherings and writing stories for bnm.

I woke at a quarter to six, alert and thinking it was time to rise and shine. Too early. Back to sleep and dreams of ball games and collaborating on bnm stories with my sisters. Seemed like I had been asleep forever when I looked at the clock again, a quarter to seven. Still too early. Asleep I continued writing stories for bnm and doing a line-up and working on a media kit. Surely it was time to get up now I thought. 7:30. Damn! It's Saturday! I don't have to get up that early. Back to sleep and again to the ballpark and the tournament and interviewing players with my sisters, fighting with my sisters about how to construct the stories, and then the tornado strikes and rips the shack we're in right out of the ground and I feel the wind all around me. 8:30. I give up. Rise and shine!

What is up with that? I was so tired and then I barely sleep. And now I'm not tired at all. And the dreams. Always the frigging dreams. But no moon to justify them now is there? Curious. I'm probably just stressed about work, since I worked all night in my dreams. Today I'll get lots done and sleep through the night tonight. Sleep in tomorrow morning. It'll be lovely.

Mood: weirded out
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: New World Man, Rush
Hair: getting too thick . . . again

Coulda Been Somebody

Watched "On the Waterfront" the other night and you know I don't think I've ever seen it in its entirety before. Yeah, I've seen Brando's "coulda been a contender" scene lots of times but I have never seen the film. Zip it! Rent it! Buy it! Brando is frigging amazing. I've only ever really seen him when he was older, like in Last Tango in Paris and The Godfather. I haven't seen Streetcar. But I will. Yeah, I'm not telling you anything you don't already know, likely I am the last person on the face of the earth to discover Brando, but hey, better late than never.

So the headache continues. I take a Motrin and dull it somewhat for an hour or so, but I can't make the damn thing go away. It's been a week. I don't think you're supposed to have a headache for a week.

Mood: iffy
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: I Write Sins Not Tragedies, Panic! At the Disco
Hair: fluffy

Summer

Summer is practically over and I'm not sad to see it go. What a freaking terrible summer! Totally broke. Went nowhere. Did nothing. Stress up the wazoo. More time spent crying than drinking wine. What kind of a yucky summer is that?! Surely the tide has turned and fall will be better. I mean I started the year on such a high with the Toronto trip and Bon Jovi and great workshops and a fab AGM and lots of good stuff. Then summer rolled in and everything went to hell. Autumn has got to be better.

I was supposed to go to Fundy this weekend, then back to the Miramichi to be there for Stacy's party next weekend. Not happening now. Well Fundy's not. Can I afford to go home again so soon? And then what about Labour Day Weekend? There's a thing happening apparently, at my parents house. BBQ, sleep-overs, games, fireworks, etc. Sherry says come Friday the 25th and stay until after Labour Day, but dude! That's another whole week + out of the loop, and I just got home it seems. It costs so much to go. It's near impossible to get any work done there. The climate always irrates my arthritis. I dunno. I'll likely just skip everything and go the end of September or October, when I'm really missing the kids and everyone. OR I'll take into a last minute fit and just show up sometime soon. It's too much to think about right now. Head aching.

Mood: head-achy, AGAIN!
Drinking: coffee, black, dark roast, cheap generic brand
Listening To: Bullet in the Head, Rage Against the Machine
Hair: getting washed today perhaps

While I Was Out

So while I was having my spiritual crises and being generally consumed by work and family matters, the town burned to the ground around me. Literally. Yeah, I heard sirens, but I thought it was a just a super duper deadly highway accident. I frigging live here and I'm the last one to know! This guy's got all the details and pics.

I walked out there today to go to the bank, get some eggs and everything is blocked off while they excavate and cart away debris. No idea how it started. It's sad though.

Mood: melancholy
Drinking: coffee, instant, blech!
Listening To: wind
Hair: in my eyes

Why?

Three weeks ago things were normal. All was well in my family. We were looking forward to family reunions, camping trips, Fundy tides and more. Then diabetes and everything changed. Sucked the life out of everything. And now, just when one might dare believe that things would be okay, that everyone would get through this. A second niece diagnosed. Two little girls, six and four. Same sister and brother-in-law. What the fuck?! Why? I don't understand why this is happening.

I was raised Anglican, forced to teach Sunday school and the whole bit. My mother shoved religion down my throat and I resented her big time. Late in high school and into university I declared myself to be an atheist.

a·the·ist -- n. One who disbelieves or denies the existence of God or gods.

My father always said he didn't believe in God or heaven or any sort of a bigger picture. You live, you die, you rot in the ground, only one chance, one life to live. What I soon realised after moving to Toronto and meeting people who were "real" atheists or people who were Jewish or Muslim or practicing anything outside of christianity was that I couldn't unlearn what had been drilled into my body and mind since I was a baby. The ritual, the belief, the knowledge, was in me and there was no way to erase it. I resented my mother more for not giving me the opportunity to approach the world on my own, a blank slate, able to discover and learn about all beliefs from scratch.

Somehow I got past all my resentment and came to understand that it wasn't God I didn't believe in, it was organised religion, and not just Christianity but pretty much all of it.

ag-nos-tic n : a person who doubts truth of religion

And then I started to form my own belief system, extracting bits from here and there and coming up with something I felt comfortable with believing and something that would comfort me when times were less than bright. A higher power. Souls. Lessons to be learned for soul evolution. An after-life. Re-incarnation. A loving, compassionate God.

And it worked. I took comfort. I understood why things happened and learned the lessons. Spiritual crises over, now lets work on those interpersonal skills. Or so I thought. Until now.

With the first niece's diagnosis I could rationalise. With the second, I'm done in. I don't get it. I don't understand why. I can't see the lesson. What's the fucking point?!

And for the first time since my late teens/early twenties I'm doubting. Me! The person who sees spirits, who has out-of-body experiences, who knows without a doubt that there is something other than this life. Yet I'm having a real hard time believing there is any divine plan, that anyone signed on for this, that it serves any greater purpose. I don't get it. I don't understand. And I'm really freaking angry about it. Maybe it's too fresh. Maybe I'll find it later. Maybe I'm not looking in the right place. Maybe I'm too angry to meditate on it. Or maybe life is just a series of random events that mean nothing and nobody is running the show and nothing makes any difference anyway. Bad people get rich, buy lovers and friends and even new bodies and faces. Good people stay poor and struggle to provide the basics for their families, to keep them warm and fed and safe. There is no justice in the world. What is the point?

Mood: sad & mad
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: The Future, Leonard Cohen
Hair: messy, greasy, dirty, and i don't even care

Hola!

I survived the great rapids reunion of 2006! Though not entirely without incident. Cosmos are sneaky critters. Perhaps I won't have another one for a long, long time. It was not the fabulous time everyone raved about last year. It was damn cold. And I realised after that I hadn't even really been invited, which means I crashed my own family reunion. If I had to decide today, I would say you won't see me back there next summer, but who knows, things could change. Will return to the river again later this month for a few days, so if I didn't see you this time, perhaps next we'll connect.

I'm really tired today. Expecting showers later. Enjoying the cooler temperatures today. Be back later.

Mood: headachy
Drinking: coffee, black, luke warm
Listening To: Ryan's Roses on KIIS-FM live streaming from Los Angeles
Hair: wicked

Of Course!

My horoscope for today says:

"If you have been contemplating executing legal papers of any kind, Kellie, this is NOT the day to do it. Any contract entered into today is likely to have confusing clauses and obscure language that you may not understand and which can potentially be used to your disadvantage. This is also not the day to start or even plan a journey of any kind. It is, however, a great day for reading or meditation."

I'm supposed to stay home and meditate. Nice. Train leaves at 4:15 this afternoon. No reading or meditation for me. I'll try not to sign anything binding though.

Mood: tired
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: birds, traffic, fan, washer, dryer, me typing
Hair: I can't believe I'm about to go out in public this way!

Happy Birthday!

It's my hon's birthday! Yes, after a month and a bit of having a higher number attached to my age, Stacy catches up today. Whew! That was close. She is working today and so there will be no margaritas (or chocolate martinis) :-( I am, however, thinking I might want to sneak out later and have a gelato in her name. Sound like a plan? Hell yeah!

Gifts and all that to follow when I arrive later this week. I think we're going to go out to KD's Pick of the Vine to celebrate. No last blizzard. But we'll always have the tee dot.

Mood: chipper
Drinking: coffee
Listening To: lawnmower man part 336
Hair: wiggy

Another Departure Coming Up

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: ????

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

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

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?

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

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

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

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

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

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