WELL. Wasn't THAT something earlier?
I was feeling pretty down today, I will admit. But, my friend Chiara gave me a call.
There is nothing as therapeutic as girl talk. Nothing. Just sitting and hashing it out with a friend is so great, just getting everything out there. I feel lighter now, and my head is clearer. I laughed a lot. And, we had chocolate mousse cake, and strawberry cheesecake. We talked about the break up a little bit, but mostly we bitched about other things, made plans and watched South Park.
One of the things I'm really looking forward to is spending more time with my friends. Honestly, I never put a lot of stock into friends before, no offense to those that are reading. I just thought that friends come and go, and you can always make more. Anyway, I've always figured I was better on my own.
But now I'm really seeing how important it is to have people around you who are just quality friends. I don't know where I would be without you guys right now. I've gotten more hugs today than I have in the last couple of months. You're all so cool!
I think, already, I'm slowly getting used to this. This isn't the end of my life. I still miss you, Max,
but as I was walking home tonight, with Love Like A Sunset playing in my ears, and a full moon shining, I felt invincible. I'm going to be okay, and I know you will be too, Max.
Also, watching Project Runyway right now, and this Keith fellow is a mega douche. You're clothes suck, dumbass. "Oh, there's criticism, and then there's insult." Get over it, dude. You wanna be on a reality TV show, get some thicker skin, christ.
PS. Goddamnit, they're raising bus fare again, on April 1st. It's already at $2.50 for us big kids! A bus pass is $73!! And do you know how hard it is to scrape together two dollars and fifty cents in change when you are out of bus tickets? Now we're going to have to get together $2.75? Man, give us a break.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
Love Like A Sunset
"Hey, Lisa! How are you?"
"Miserable, thanks!"
I seriously never knew like I could feel like such shit before. I know I did the breaking up, but fuck me. I can't stop thinking about Max. I can't eat.
Don't get me wrong. I think I did make the right decision with all of this, no matter how much it hurts. But boy, how it hurts.
Gloria, one of my bosses at Famous Foods, gave me a little pep talk talk today, and it made me feel so much better. But then I went from UP up middle down DOWN. And I really can't figure out why I feel so fucking lousy. I know I made the right decision. God, what if I didn't? What if I just screwed myself out of the only happiness I'll ever know? This is fucked, this is so fucked up.
A few people have told me that the tears are a good sign. "If this didn't upset you at all, then that means the last three years have meant nothing." I have to agree with them. The last three years of my life HAVE been amazing, and I developed into a person I almost like during them. And I know I said this before, but Max was truly the best first boyfriend I could have ever asked for. I think I just changed so much, that I grew out of the relationship. We were so young when we met. Max said that it was a "stretch to think you'd be with your first boyfriend forever."
And I know that I DO want to date other people one day. I want to see what else is out there for me. But I didn't know I'd have to feel so fucked up beforehand.
Canucks and communists remind me of you,
now 20's and 26's hurt me too.
Is it fucked up that I almost wish I would get in an accident that was serious enough to send me to the hospital, so that Max would come and visit me? I dreamed about him again last night. He forgave me, and we went out to dinner. I couldn't stop staring at his lips and his unbuttoned shirt. Christ.
Jesus, this is only the second day. I am a loser.
Lisa, what drives you to keep on truckin'?
Put my hood up, turn on my iPod, keep moving and never stop.
Did you like my little play on words up there?
Yes. Yes, I did.
"Miserable, thanks!"
I seriously never knew like I could feel like such shit before. I know I did the breaking up, but fuck me. I can't stop thinking about Max. I can't eat.
Don't get me wrong. I think I did make the right decision with all of this, no matter how much it hurts. But boy, how it hurts.
Gloria, one of my bosses at Famous Foods, gave me a little pep talk talk today, and it made me feel so much better. But then I went from UP up middle down DOWN. And I really can't figure out why I feel so fucking lousy. I know I made the right decision. God, what if I didn't? What if I just screwed myself out of the only happiness I'll ever know? This is fucked, this is so fucked up.
A few people have told me that the tears are a good sign. "If this didn't upset you at all, then that means the last three years have meant nothing." I have to agree with them. The last three years of my life HAVE been amazing, and I developed into a person I almost like during them. And I know I said this before, but Max was truly the best first boyfriend I could have ever asked for. I think I just changed so much, that I grew out of the relationship. We were so young when we met. Max said that it was a "stretch to think you'd be with your first boyfriend forever."
And I know that I DO want to date other people one day. I want to see what else is out there for me. But I didn't know I'd have to feel so fucked up beforehand.
Canucks and communists remind me of you,
now 20's and 26's hurt me too.
Is it fucked up that I almost wish I would get in an accident that was serious enough to send me to the hospital, so that Max would come and visit me? I dreamed about him again last night. He forgave me, and we went out to dinner. I couldn't stop staring at his lips and his unbuttoned shirt. Christ.
Jesus, this is only the second day. I am a loser.
Lisa, what drives you to keep on truckin'?
Put my hood up, turn on my iPod, keep moving and never stop.
Did you like my little play on words up there?
Yes. Yes, I did.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Here's A Wish For The Future
3 years and 2 months.
I was 16 when I first met Max. Well, met online. We talked for almost 2 months online before we decided to meet in person. I was unaware that my friend Wendeanna had set the whole thing up. She said she knew a boy who looked an awful lot like Patrick Stump. Being the fan girl that I am, I messaged him on Nexopia (ah, the days of Nexopia). We talked, and talked and talked some more. I was starting to like him, and I had the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he liked me too. This was monumental at the time, because no one had EVER liked me before. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and all I did was think about him. Was it even possible that a boy as cute, interesting and nice as Max could like me back?
We went ice skating the first time we met. I had never been so nervous before in my whole life. He was a little bit late, and I thought he had bailed and wasn't showing up. Wendeanna and I started skating anyway, and then we saw him walk in, looking for us. Somehow, I grew a pair, and skated over, and tried not to look as nervous as I felt. We talked for a bit as he put on his skates, and then I found out he couldn't skate. At all. So, to remedy this, I linked arms with him the whole time. I know, right? Shy little Lisa? I couldn't believe it either, really. Wendeanna kept trying to skate ahead and leave us alone, but I was so nervous I didn't know what to talk about so I made her stick around. I don't even remember what I talked about, to be honest. And really, I wasn't even supposed to be there. The rule in my house was No Boys Until you're 17.
We went out for hot chocolate after, and then walked back to Wendeanna's house, where my dad said he would pick me up. As we were saying goodbye, Max hugged me. It was kind of a lingering hug, and my heart was beating so hard I felt like I was going to choke. Just as he turned to go, I realized he was still wearing my scarf from when I lent it to him. Later, he told me that had been his plan, to keep the scarf so he had another reason to see me again. That still makes me smile.
Hahaha, I just remembered the first time he kissed me on the cheek. Yes, just on the cheek, but I was like, mind blown. I couldn't even walk properly after that. It was only a kiss on the cheek, but I melted.
On January 26th, 2007, we officially started dating, and I got my first kiss. I considered keeping it a secret from my parents, but they found out anyway, since one of my dads friends saw us together, and then I was in trouble. Max had to come and meet my parents (well, mostly meet my dad) before we were really allowed to see each other. So he came over one night, after dinner. Christ, that was the most awkward, embarrassing thing I've ever had to sit through. It was like a game of 20 Questions, with my dad grilling Max for anything that would deem him unacceptable. But, he passed the test. After, as he was about to leave, I said "I am so, so sorry about that." and he said "It's okay. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else."
And then I was happy. We held hands, kissing turned to making out, I met his friends, we went on dates, had sex for the first time, celebrated anniversaries, birthdays, Christmas. I cried and he comforted me. We told each other about ourselves, and he became my best friend. No secret was safe from Max, because I would tell him everything. The best times were when we had tried to go to sleep but found we were wide awake, and talked and talked, sometimes for hours, about everything.
I don't think we ever had a real fight. There were times where we would get annoyed with each other (even though we wouldn't say anything, I could tell). Sometimes he'd bother me, sometimes I'd bother him, but we never fought. There were disagreements, but more often than not we were on the same page. He was a nicer person than me, however. Once, he tried to argue that he was meaner than me. I laughed.
For his birthdays, I made him dinner (God, I just realized we were only together to celebrate two of his birthdays), and I gave him two really good Christmas presents, his Canucks jersey, and the watch I got him last Christmas. I was so proud of those two, because I'd thought long and hard about them and picked something that he loved. I wanted to make them count because it's his favourite holiday.
We wrote each other love letters, poems, talked on MSN almost every night for the last 3 years, saw movies, and talked about the future.
I don't know when things changed. I think slowly, slowly, I was starting to feel unhappy. Not that anything was wrong with the relationship itself. No one had said or done anything wrong. I was just starting to wonder if this is what I really, really wanted, and if I would be happy with it for the rest of my life. And once you start to have thoughts like this, it's hard to ignore them. Even if we had kept going, they would just be there in the back of my mind. I began to wonder if maybe I was missing something. I felt like I wanted to experience more in life, and do a little more searching. And this sounds awful, but I wanted to try being with other people. I was also worried that if I ignored all these feelings now, one day, I would so something I regretted, like cheat on him. Or keep a secret.
I wrestled with these thoughts for a long time. Was I making the right decision? Or was I just acting on a whim? I didn't want to end things and then realize that he was still the only thing I wanted. I knew there wasn't going to be much turning back. Our philosophy had always been that a 'break' meant 'break up', so that wasn't an option. As for breaking up and then one day getting back together, chances seem slim. I've always thought that breaking up once is a sign that it's over.
I started to get anxious and tense all the time whenever I was around him, or talked to him, because all I could keep thinking was "Oh god, I know and you don't". I tried not to let him see this, but I think he did notice. He's a smart guy. He mentioned to me about a month ago that I seemed "disinterested". I laughed it off and denied it. Then he brought it up again last night, and I knew that I couldn't keep ignoring this. This past weekend at the Girl Guide camp, I mulled it over the whole time. I cried when everybody else had gone to bed, and I worried and worried myself until I felt sick.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and sadly I did it over MSN. Funny. Our relationship began online, and it ended online. I'd planned to meet up with him today and talk to him face to face. Jo said that it was only fair, that since I was going to hurt him, I should suffer a little too. But we were talking online when he brought up the disinterested thing again, and I just went for it. I asked if he wanted to meet up and talk in person, but he said that if it was something bad, he didn't want to let it fester in his head all night.
I think it took all of 30 minutes. We talked, I cried, he seemed very matter-of-fact, and then he said he was going to go, and that if I needed to talk to him I should let him know, otherwise he would find me when he was ready. The end.
I stayed up for about 2 hours after, just laying there and listening to the same song, over and over and over again (Ooo Ohh by Daniel Wesley). I finally passed out, and woke up this morning to cry some more. I dreamed about him last night. We were talking, I was topless, he sill wanted to be friends, we made out. Sigh, what a nice dream.
Went on Facebook to discover he had deleted me from his friend's list, and I don't know why, but that made it hurt so much more. I still can't imagine never seeing him or talking to him again. I can understand why he did it, but it just made me cry so much harder. It was that choking sob, I'm sure you've all experienced it once. I found myself wishing I really would choke. I never knew I could feel as awful as this.
Yet, no matter how shitty I feel, I think I made the right decision. It's not fair if one of us was into it and the other one wasn't. I can't stop crying (stupid pussy), but there's almost a feeling of relief wedged somewhere between the emptiness. For the first time in a long time, I belong solely to myself. Awful way to come about it, but it's an interesting feeling. And I'm vowing to make something of myself now. I'm going to allow myself one week, tops, of moping, and then I'm going to get out there and continue living. I was thinking about moving to Toronto one day, just to try something new. Also, I don't think I want to be in a serious relationship for a long time, although it's going to be awhile before I start thinking about dating again.
Fuck, I miss Max already. I just want to talk to him, to know how he's feeling. I'm so, so sorry Max. I almost wish you'd hate me. I just want you to know how much I still care about you, and I wish that it hadn't had to come to this. You're such an amazing person, and I wish I could just curl up and die for what I've done to you. And I hope, I really hope, that one day we can still talk to each other, and maybe even be friends. And if last night was the last time I ever talk to you, I wish you so much joy and success in life. You're an amazing person, you deserve nothing less.
And now I'm going to go and learn how to be single. I've been considering drinking myself to death, but Tanis told me not to, so I guess I won't do that. Man, I never knew I would need friends at all, but thank you guys for all the support you've already given me. You know who you are.
Here's a wish for the future.
PS. I wish that me and Max had more photos of us together. There are maybe 2 or three floating around online, but I wish I had a hardcopy of a photo of us, looking really happy.
I was 16 when I first met Max. Well, met online. We talked for almost 2 months online before we decided to meet in person. I was unaware that my friend Wendeanna had set the whole thing up. She said she knew a boy who looked an awful lot like Patrick Stump. Being the fan girl that I am, I messaged him on Nexopia (ah, the days of Nexopia). We talked, and talked and talked some more. I was starting to like him, and I had the feeling that maybe, just maybe, he liked me too. This was monumental at the time, because no one had EVER liked me before. I couldn't sleep, I couldn't eat, and all I did was think about him. Was it even possible that a boy as cute, interesting and nice as Max could like me back?
We went ice skating the first time we met. I had never been so nervous before in my whole life. He was a little bit late, and I thought he had bailed and wasn't showing up. Wendeanna and I started skating anyway, and then we saw him walk in, looking for us. Somehow, I grew a pair, and skated over, and tried not to look as nervous as I felt. We talked for a bit as he put on his skates, and then I found out he couldn't skate. At all. So, to remedy this, I linked arms with him the whole time. I know, right? Shy little Lisa? I couldn't believe it either, really. Wendeanna kept trying to skate ahead and leave us alone, but I was so nervous I didn't know what to talk about so I made her stick around. I don't even remember what I talked about, to be honest. And really, I wasn't even supposed to be there. The rule in my house was No Boys Until you're 17.
We went out for hot chocolate after, and then walked back to Wendeanna's house, where my dad said he would pick me up. As we were saying goodbye, Max hugged me. It was kind of a lingering hug, and my heart was beating so hard I felt like I was going to choke. Just as he turned to go, I realized he was still wearing my scarf from when I lent it to him. Later, he told me that had been his plan, to keep the scarf so he had another reason to see me again. That still makes me smile.
Hahaha, I just remembered the first time he kissed me on the cheek. Yes, just on the cheek, but I was like, mind blown. I couldn't even walk properly after that. It was only a kiss on the cheek, but I melted.
On January 26th, 2007, we officially started dating, and I got my first kiss. I considered keeping it a secret from my parents, but they found out anyway, since one of my dads friends saw us together, and then I was in trouble. Max had to come and meet my parents (well, mostly meet my dad) before we were really allowed to see each other. So he came over one night, after dinner. Christ, that was the most awkward, embarrassing thing I've ever had to sit through. It was like a game of 20 Questions, with my dad grilling Max for anything that would deem him unacceptable. But, he passed the test. After, as he was about to leave, I said "I am so, so sorry about that." and he said "It's okay. I wouldn't have done it for anyone else."
And then I was happy. We held hands, kissing turned to making out, I met his friends, we went on dates, had sex for the first time, celebrated anniversaries, birthdays, Christmas. I cried and he comforted me. We told each other about ourselves, and he became my best friend. No secret was safe from Max, because I would tell him everything. The best times were when we had tried to go to sleep but found we were wide awake, and talked and talked, sometimes for hours, about everything.
I don't think we ever had a real fight. There were times where we would get annoyed with each other (even though we wouldn't say anything, I could tell). Sometimes he'd bother me, sometimes I'd bother him, but we never fought. There were disagreements, but more often than not we were on the same page. He was a nicer person than me, however. Once, he tried to argue that he was meaner than me. I laughed.
For his birthdays, I made him dinner (God, I just realized we were only together to celebrate two of his birthdays), and I gave him two really good Christmas presents, his Canucks jersey, and the watch I got him last Christmas. I was so proud of those two, because I'd thought long and hard about them and picked something that he loved. I wanted to make them count because it's his favourite holiday.
We wrote each other love letters, poems, talked on MSN almost every night for the last 3 years, saw movies, and talked about the future.
I don't know when things changed. I think slowly, slowly, I was starting to feel unhappy. Not that anything was wrong with the relationship itself. No one had said or done anything wrong. I was just starting to wonder if this is what I really, really wanted, and if I would be happy with it for the rest of my life. And once you start to have thoughts like this, it's hard to ignore them. Even if we had kept going, they would just be there in the back of my mind. I began to wonder if maybe I was missing something. I felt like I wanted to experience more in life, and do a little more searching. And this sounds awful, but I wanted to try being with other people. I was also worried that if I ignored all these feelings now, one day, I would so something I regretted, like cheat on him. Or keep a secret.
I wrestled with these thoughts for a long time. Was I making the right decision? Or was I just acting on a whim? I didn't want to end things and then realize that he was still the only thing I wanted. I knew there wasn't going to be much turning back. Our philosophy had always been that a 'break' meant 'break up', so that wasn't an option. As for breaking up and then one day getting back together, chances seem slim. I've always thought that breaking up once is a sign that it's over.
I started to get anxious and tense all the time whenever I was around him, or talked to him, because all I could keep thinking was "Oh god, I know and you don't". I tried not to let him see this, but I think he did notice. He's a smart guy. He mentioned to me about a month ago that I seemed "disinterested". I laughed it off and denied it. Then he brought it up again last night, and I knew that I couldn't keep ignoring this. This past weekend at the Girl Guide camp, I mulled it over the whole time. I cried when everybody else had gone to bed, and I worried and worried myself until I felt sick.
It was the hardest thing I've ever done, and sadly I did it over MSN. Funny. Our relationship began online, and it ended online. I'd planned to meet up with him today and talk to him face to face. Jo said that it was only fair, that since I was going to hurt him, I should suffer a little too. But we were talking online when he brought up the disinterested thing again, and I just went for it. I asked if he wanted to meet up and talk in person, but he said that if it was something bad, he didn't want to let it fester in his head all night.
I think it took all of 30 minutes. We talked, I cried, he seemed very matter-of-fact, and then he said he was going to go, and that if I needed to talk to him I should let him know, otherwise he would find me when he was ready. The end.
I stayed up for about 2 hours after, just laying there and listening to the same song, over and over and over again (Ooo Ohh by Daniel Wesley). I finally passed out, and woke up this morning to cry some more. I dreamed about him last night. We were talking, I was topless, he sill wanted to be friends, we made out. Sigh, what a nice dream.
Went on Facebook to discover he had deleted me from his friend's list, and I don't know why, but that made it hurt so much more. I still can't imagine never seeing him or talking to him again. I can understand why he did it, but it just made me cry so much harder. It was that choking sob, I'm sure you've all experienced it once. I found myself wishing I really would choke. I never knew I could feel as awful as this.
Yet, no matter how shitty I feel, I think I made the right decision. It's not fair if one of us was into it and the other one wasn't. I can't stop crying (stupid pussy), but there's almost a feeling of relief wedged somewhere between the emptiness. For the first time in a long time, I belong solely to myself. Awful way to come about it, but it's an interesting feeling. And I'm vowing to make something of myself now. I'm going to allow myself one week, tops, of moping, and then I'm going to get out there and continue living. I was thinking about moving to Toronto one day, just to try something new. Also, I don't think I want to be in a serious relationship for a long time, although it's going to be awhile before I start thinking about dating again.
Fuck, I miss Max already. I just want to talk to him, to know how he's feeling. I'm so, so sorry Max. I almost wish you'd hate me. I just want you to know how much I still care about you, and I wish that it hadn't had to come to this. You're such an amazing person, and I wish I could just curl up and die for what I've done to you. And I hope, I really hope, that one day we can still talk to each other, and maybe even be friends. And if last night was the last time I ever talk to you, I wish you so much joy and success in life. You're an amazing person, you deserve nothing less.
And now I'm going to go and learn how to be single. I've been considering drinking myself to death, but Tanis told me not to, so I guess I won't do that. Man, I never knew I would need friends at all, but thank you guys for all the support you've already given me. You know who you are.
Here's a wish for the future.
PS. I wish that me and Max had more photos of us together. There are maybe 2 or three floating around online, but I wish I had a hardcopy of a photo of us, looking really happy.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Lady in the Water and District Camps
I've just finished watching one of my all time favourite movies, Lady in the Water, for the 4th time. No matter how many times I see it, this story will always bring tears to my eyes.
What really bothers me is how people really hate it. If you look it up on Wikipedia (legit, I know), the entire Reception area of the article is just all negative. They talk about the ego of M. Night Shyamalan, and the obvious metaphor of the character that is a film critic. The films was "nominated for four Razzie Awards, including Worst Picture and Worst Screenplay, winning two for Shyamalan as both Worst Director and Worst Supporting Actor."
Seriously? When are people going to stop talking and complaining long enough to be able to appreciate something beautiful? Okay, Shyamalan makes some weird movies, and maybe there aren't enough explosions or sex in them, but christ, doesn't anybody feel anymore? Who gives a shit if Shyamalan is placing his character, and ultimately himself, on a pedestal? Have we lost the ability to just sit and observe and feel?
If you are unfamiliar with the plot of Lady in the Water, I strongly suggest that you head over to your nearest video store and rent it. Personally, I think watching it by yourself is the best way to see it. It is a movie that should be watched in silence, so you can really let yourself think about it.
It is a fairytale, yes. However, it was marketed as a horror movie. I remember seeing the ads for it in 2006 and thinking "Man, I'm never going to see that movie." They made the TV ads out to be way scarier than it is (it's not scary at all). Still, they have it down under "thriller". Sure, there's some suspense in it, and it leaves the audience wondering what happens next, but "thriller" seems like the wrong word to use here. More like, "mesmerizing", if that could be a category.
Personally, I'm a sucker for stories like this. Normal people in a very normal setting brought together by something completely unreal. As much as I say I hate people (I really do, most of the time), I love it when we are brought together in situations like this. At one point in the movie, one of the main characters (her name is Story) says "everything is connected". I would like to believe that, that we're somehow all tied to one another. It's a very lovely thought.
Point is, watch Lady in the Water.
Ho-hum. Today I'm going to go to that District Camp with Jo and Karina, and be kitchen slaves. Jo called and told me the kit list yesterday, and god, it brings back so many memories. For those of you that don't know, a District Camp is when Girl Guides of all ages (Sparks, Brownies, Guides and sometimes Pathfinders) get together and go stay at a large camp together. In this case, it is being held at Camp Howdy in Coquitlam. I've never been here before, so I know nothing about it. But I'm assuming it's the same as every other large camp I've ever gone to. There are cabins, and a large dining hall that's the HQ. There are going to be mundane activities, crafts, nature walks and other seriously boring stuff. Thank fuck I'm not a younger member anymore. As an adult member, and kitchen staff, I'm hoping this gives me the chance to say no to anything I don't want to do.
Things that are a big no-no on the kit list?
-NO jeans
-NO open-toed shoes
-NO electronics
-NO tank tops
-NO baseball caps
You MUST, however, have a wide-brimmed hat though, to protect yourself from all that awful March sun that we get here on the West Coast.
Now, I haven't owned a dorky hat like that since I was 13, and only because I got it for free at another camp that I went to. In fact, I don't own a hat at all. Or a proper pair of pants, running shoes, raincoat, or boots. I am going to wear a pair of leggings, a skirt and some little velcro tennis shoes the whole time, with my head uncovered and a tank top hidden under a plaid shirt. There. And damn it all if I'm not bringing my cellphone or my iPod. No electronics? Are you joking me? What century is this? I will seriously die if I have to be surrounded by children for te entire weekend without the solace of my iPod to turn to.
What's that you say? Girl Guide camp sounds an awful lot like a Nazi internment camp? That's because Hitler borrowed ideas from Girl Guide leaders. Honestly, most Girl Guide leaders are just awful, boring, unmarried, middle-aged women with nothing more to look forward to than selling cookies at the nearest Rona and making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch (joke only relevant if you've ever been a in Guides). I don't know what happened to make these women so boring, but for the love of god, I hope it never happens to me. These leaders seem to be anti-fun, only giving you 30 minutes of free time everyday (don't they give you, like, an hour in jail?) and are against you having any time to yourself. I was honestly scolded on a number of occasions for reading quietly by myself in my tent. Yes. This happened. Because damn it if they'll let you be an individual.
All of that aside, however, I think I might have fun. In the kitchen will be me, Karina, Jo, Belinda and Debbie. I don't really know the last two very well, but they seem like okay people. I'm assuming the majority of my time will be spent in the kitchen with these people, which is fine by me. I like food, and I like talking, as you can clearly see by how long this post is. Dear god, I'm out of control.
What really bothers me is how people really hate it. If you look it up on Wikipedia (legit, I know), the entire Reception area of the article is just all negative. They talk about the ego of M. Night Shyamalan, and the obvious metaphor of the character that is a film critic. The films was "nominated for four Razzie Awards, including Worst Picture and Worst Screenplay, winning two for Shyamalan as both Worst Director and Worst Supporting Actor."
Seriously? When are people going to stop talking and complaining long enough to be able to appreciate something beautiful? Okay, Shyamalan makes some weird movies, and maybe there aren't enough explosions or sex in them, but christ, doesn't anybody feel anymore? Who gives a shit if Shyamalan is placing his character, and ultimately himself, on a pedestal? Have we lost the ability to just sit and observe and feel?
If you are unfamiliar with the plot of Lady in the Water, I strongly suggest that you head over to your nearest video store and rent it. Personally, I think watching it by yourself is the best way to see it. It is a movie that should be watched in silence, so you can really let yourself think about it.
It is a fairytale, yes. However, it was marketed as a horror movie. I remember seeing the ads for it in 2006 and thinking "Man, I'm never going to see that movie." They made the TV ads out to be way scarier than it is (it's not scary at all). Still, they have it down under "thriller". Sure, there's some suspense in it, and it leaves the audience wondering what happens next, but "thriller" seems like the wrong word to use here. More like, "mesmerizing", if that could be a category.
Personally, I'm a sucker for stories like this. Normal people in a very normal setting brought together by something completely unreal. As much as I say I hate people (I really do, most of the time), I love it when we are brought together in situations like this. At one point in the movie, one of the main characters (her name is Story) says "everything is connected". I would like to believe that, that we're somehow all tied to one another. It's a very lovely thought.
Point is, watch Lady in the Water.
Ho-hum. Today I'm going to go to that District Camp with Jo and Karina, and be kitchen slaves. Jo called and told me the kit list yesterday, and god, it brings back so many memories. For those of you that don't know, a District Camp is when Girl Guides of all ages (Sparks, Brownies, Guides and sometimes Pathfinders) get together and go stay at a large camp together. In this case, it is being held at Camp Howdy in Coquitlam. I've never been here before, so I know nothing about it. But I'm assuming it's the same as every other large camp I've ever gone to. There are cabins, and a large dining hall that's the HQ. There are going to be mundane activities, crafts, nature walks and other seriously boring stuff. Thank fuck I'm not a younger member anymore. As an adult member, and kitchen staff, I'm hoping this gives me the chance to say no to anything I don't want to do.
Things that are a big no-no on the kit list?
-NO jeans
-NO open-toed shoes
-NO electronics
-NO tank tops
-NO baseball caps
You MUST, however, have a wide-brimmed hat though, to protect yourself from all that awful March sun that we get here on the West Coast.
Now, I haven't owned a dorky hat like that since I was 13, and only because I got it for free at another camp that I went to. In fact, I don't own a hat at all. Or a proper pair of pants, running shoes, raincoat, or boots. I am going to wear a pair of leggings, a skirt and some little velcro tennis shoes the whole time, with my head uncovered and a tank top hidden under a plaid shirt. There. And damn it all if I'm not bringing my cellphone or my iPod. No electronics? Are you joking me? What century is this? I will seriously die if I have to be surrounded by children for te entire weekend without the solace of my iPod to turn to.
What's that you say? Girl Guide camp sounds an awful lot like a Nazi internment camp? That's because Hitler borrowed ideas from Girl Guide leaders. Honestly, most Girl Guide leaders are just awful, boring, unmarried, middle-aged women with nothing more to look forward to than selling cookies at the nearest Rona and making grilled cheese sandwiches and tomato soup for lunch (joke only relevant if you've ever been a in Guides). I don't know what happened to make these women so boring, but for the love of god, I hope it never happens to me. These leaders seem to be anti-fun, only giving you 30 minutes of free time everyday (don't they give you, like, an hour in jail?) and are against you having any time to yourself. I was honestly scolded on a number of occasions for reading quietly by myself in my tent. Yes. This happened. Because damn it if they'll let you be an individual.
All of that aside, however, I think I might have fun. In the kitchen will be me, Karina, Jo, Belinda and Debbie. I don't really know the last two very well, but they seem like okay people. I'm assuming the majority of my time will be spent in the kitchen with these people, which is fine by me. I like food, and I like talking, as you can clearly see by how long this post is. Dear god, I'm out of control.
Thursday, March 25, 2010
Chatroulette!
I've just returned from my first foray into the wonderful, dick-filled world of Chatroulette (hint: "dick-filled" is not a wacky metaphor).
If you haven't heard of it, Chatroulette is like your basic chatroom, except you get to be one-on-one with a stranger. There is video and audio feed, and you can click 'Next' if you get tired of talking to them. Most of the time it's just your average joe's. Sometimes (disturbingly) it's old people. But (disturbingly, yet somehow less disturbing than old people), it's guys with their dicks out. I tried actually counting, for the sake of the blog, but there were just too many.
And in and amongst these people, there are a few cool ones. I came upon a guy wearing a silver skull mask. He was pretty dope. He waved at me, I gave him a thumbs up, he said hi... and then I chickened out and clicked 'Next'. Yes. I am the biggest pussy in the whole world, ever, because I can't talk to strangers on the Internet. Chatroulette is mostly guys, and some of the were pretty cute too, but I sadly lack the balls to strike up conversations, so my first Chatroulette experience consisted of me flipping through person after person as they tried to say hello.
Le sigh.
Nothing cool to report, unfortunately. I'm staying at my dad's house for the next few days as he's away in Victoria, looking after cats and just bumming around, really. On Friday I'm heading of to a District Girl Guide Camp to cook meals for a pack of screeching young girls with Karina and Jo, and, more depressingly, I'm beginning to feel like I have no direction in life. Shiiiiit.
If you haven't heard of it, Chatroulette is like your basic chatroom, except you get to be one-on-one with a stranger. There is video and audio feed, and you can click 'Next' if you get tired of talking to them. Most of the time it's just your average joe's. Sometimes (disturbingly) it's old people. But (disturbingly, yet somehow less disturbing than old people), it's guys with their dicks out. I tried actually counting, for the sake of the blog, but there were just too many.
And in and amongst these people, there are a few cool ones. I came upon a guy wearing a silver skull mask. He was pretty dope. He waved at me, I gave him a thumbs up, he said hi... and then I chickened out and clicked 'Next'. Yes. I am the biggest pussy in the whole world, ever, because I can't talk to strangers on the Internet. Chatroulette is mostly guys, and some of the were pretty cute too, but I sadly lack the balls to strike up conversations, so my first Chatroulette experience consisted of me flipping through person after person as they tried to say hello.
Le sigh.
Nothing cool to report, unfortunately. I'm staying at my dad's house for the next few days as he's away in Victoria, looking after cats and just bumming around, really. On Friday I'm heading of to a District Girl Guide Camp to cook meals for a pack of screeching young girls with Karina and Jo, and, more depressingly, I'm beginning to feel like I have no direction in life. Shiiiiit.
Sunday, March 21, 2010
Beatdowns, Mad Max and Lemonade
Okay, okay, okay. Listen to this.
Now, every so often, I incite people with my "I don't give a shit about you" attitude. Namely, a girl i used to be acquainted with. Let's give her an alias. I'll call her Beth.
In grade school, Beth was the outcast, because she was quite severely physically deformed. Now, I know that it's supposed to be on the inside that counts, not the outside, but we were all little kids, so what do you expect. The world is not, and is not going to be, a perfect place. Thus, she was not the favourite.
In Grade 3 I was invited to one of her birthday parties. Normally, I will be friends with the most uncool of people, but this was a younger, more insecure me, and I knew that hanging out with Beth was (and let's use my most hated term of all time) "social suicide". It's true. But, I was too polite to decline, and my mom made me go. Something about making me a better person? Anyway, I went, and can I just say MOST BORING BIRTHDAY PARTY OF MY LIFE. I didn't know anyone, and apparently we were supposed to come dressed as our favourite celebrities. Now, I don't know how other kids are raised, but I wasn't raised in front of a fucking TV. I ran around outside and climbed trees and rolled down hills. I didn't know shit about celebrities (I also didn't read the invitation properly). I said I was just there as myself. I was invited to another birthday party in Grade 4 but I made up an excuse.
Now, it's been years, and I haven't concerned myself with thinking about her. She went to my high school but I tried not to speak to her. I'd heard my friends say she was rude and had a bad temper, and I don't like associating myself with rude, bad tempered people, so I stayed away. And honestly, I had no interest. I had my set of friends and didn't see any point in widening the circle.
Fast forward to a few hours ago. Beth messages me yet again, and I'm starting to get pretty tired of playing nice. I've told her before that I don't want to add her, and I tried to politely but firmly brush her off. But there has to be a point where you stop mincing words and get your point across. So it finally came to me saying:
"Listen. I went to your birthday party once because I was too polite to decline. Nothing ever happened between us because I didn't consider us friends. I'm not going to add you because you're trying to make me feel sorry for you."
Of course, you can't just say whatever you want without having someone having a problem with it. I was met with:
"First of all im not trying to make you feel sorry second Im sorry to say this but youre a bitch to me and all i did was be nice to you in champlain and cared but now i realize fuck it why should i be nice to you if youre a bitch to me. And tell your dad not to talk to me and piss off cause i dont wanna deal with him. By the way im calm right now but you dont know that i went to jail for punching someone out so be careful what you say."
Now, I only take proper grammar seriously. Anything less means that I don't care about what you have to say.
1) If you think I'm a bitch, fine. I do not care. It's about time that people started saying what they thought. If you think I'm a bitch, good, that means I won't have to deal with you anymore and we can both move on.
2) Listen, girl. My father can't even remember who my actual friends are. Even Amanda, who used to come to my house every single day in high school to walk to school with me, was forgotten. I would constantly have to remind him who she was. So I hardly think it's likely that he's remembering you.
3)Seriously? You don't think people have pulled that "Oh, I'm so tough because I beat someone up" card on me before? I'm a highly controversial person; I say things that people don't like. You, Beth, are in no way the first person to threaten me. I didn't back down before either. I am afraid of NOBODY.
Anyway, Beth then deleted her account, so I couldn't reply, which is actually quite frustrating since I've already got a bunch of awesome comebacks. Buuut I guess if you can't handle the heat, you've got to get out of the fire.
There you have it, my rant. I don't like people assuming that they can threaten me, and why would I want to be friends with someone who "went to jail" anyway? In closing:
Suck my dick, bitch.
PS. Peter made THE MOST AMAZING lemonade ever today. Like, fresh-squeezed from lemons. He got the recipe off Chef at Home, an excellent show. It was sweet, but tart at the same time, and get this: he put ginger in it. Apparently that is the secret ingredient to good lemonade. Now, I can't tell you exactly how he did it, but he did it well, and I hope he makes more!
I also watched Repo Men last night. Awesome, awesome movie. I can't say much more because I don't want to spoil it. Just go and see it, you'll udnerstand.
And I'm watching Mad Max 2 at the moment, so you'll excuse me if my concentration is a little shot. Did you know that young Mel Gibson was one of the hottest things alive? He is seriously so gorgeous, hot DAMN.
Now, every so often, I incite people with my "I don't give a shit about you" attitude. Namely, a girl i used to be acquainted with. Let's give her an alias. I'll call her Beth.
In grade school, Beth was the outcast, because she was quite severely physically deformed. Now, I know that it's supposed to be on the inside that counts, not the outside, but we were all little kids, so what do you expect. The world is not, and is not going to be, a perfect place. Thus, she was not the favourite.
In Grade 3 I was invited to one of her birthday parties. Normally, I will be friends with the most uncool of people, but this was a younger, more insecure me, and I knew that hanging out with Beth was (and let's use my most hated term of all time) "social suicide". It's true. But, I was too polite to decline, and my mom made me go. Something about making me a better person? Anyway, I went, and can I just say MOST BORING BIRTHDAY PARTY OF MY LIFE. I didn't know anyone, and apparently we were supposed to come dressed as our favourite celebrities. Now, I don't know how other kids are raised, but I wasn't raised in front of a fucking TV. I ran around outside and climbed trees and rolled down hills. I didn't know shit about celebrities (I also didn't read the invitation properly). I said I was just there as myself. I was invited to another birthday party in Grade 4 but I made up an excuse.
Now, it's been years, and I haven't concerned myself with thinking about her. She went to my high school but I tried not to speak to her. I'd heard my friends say she was rude and had a bad temper, and I don't like associating myself with rude, bad tempered people, so I stayed away. And honestly, I had no interest. I had my set of friends and didn't see any point in widening the circle.
Fast forward to a few hours ago. Beth messages me yet again, and I'm starting to get pretty tired of playing nice. I've told her before that I don't want to add her, and I tried to politely but firmly brush her off. But there has to be a point where you stop mincing words and get your point across. So it finally came to me saying:
"Listen. I went to your birthday party once because I was too polite to decline. Nothing ever happened between us because I didn't consider us friends. I'm not going to add you because you're trying to make me feel sorry for you."
Of course, you can't just say whatever you want without having someone having a problem with it. I was met with:
"First of all im not trying to make you feel sorry second Im sorry to say this but youre a bitch to me and all i did was be nice to you in champlain and cared but now i realize fuck it why should i be nice to you if youre a bitch to me. And tell your dad not to talk to me and piss off cause i dont wanna deal with him. By the way im calm right now but you dont know that i went to jail for punching someone out so be careful what you say."
Now, I only take proper grammar seriously. Anything less means that I don't care about what you have to say.
1) If you think I'm a bitch, fine. I do not care. It's about time that people started saying what they thought. If you think I'm a bitch, good, that means I won't have to deal with you anymore and we can both move on.
2) Listen, girl. My father can't even remember who my actual friends are. Even Amanda, who used to come to my house every single day in high school to walk to school with me, was forgotten. I would constantly have to remind him who she was. So I hardly think it's likely that he's remembering you.
3)Seriously? You don't think people have pulled that "Oh, I'm so tough because I beat someone up" card on me before? I'm a highly controversial person; I say things that people don't like. You, Beth, are in no way the first person to threaten me. I didn't back down before either. I am afraid of NOBODY.
Anyway, Beth then deleted her account, so I couldn't reply, which is actually quite frustrating since I've already got a bunch of awesome comebacks. Buuut I guess if you can't handle the heat, you've got to get out of the fire.
There you have it, my rant. I don't like people assuming that they can threaten me, and why would I want to be friends with someone who "went to jail" anyway? In closing:
Suck my dick, bitch.
PS. Peter made THE MOST AMAZING lemonade ever today. Like, fresh-squeezed from lemons. He got the recipe off Chef at Home, an excellent show. It was sweet, but tart at the same time, and get this: he put ginger in it. Apparently that is the secret ingredient to good lemonade. Now, I can't tell you exactly how he did it, but he did it well, and I hope he makes more!
I also watched Repo Men last night. Awesome, awesome movie. I can't say much more because I don't want to spoil it. Just go and see it, you'll udnerstand.
And I'm watching Mad Max 2 at the moment, so you'll excuse me if my concentration is a little shot. Did you know that young Mel Gibson was one of the hottest things alive? He is seriously so gorgeous, hot DAMN.
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