Just A Little Longer

Okay, I know I said I would write more, but I am dead beat right now, and I need to wash the dishes, and then sink into a warm bath with a good book before bed or I don't know how I'm going to be able to cope.

Tomorrow, my children, I promise you. Tomorrow, I will write some crazy things.

Catching Up

Wow, talk about later.

I'll give you guys a quick run-down of what the last couple weeks have been like.

The birthday party was really fun. The food was great, and everybody has a good time. We ended up making a fire in the the backyard, which seems to be a staple activity for my parties.

Tanis is now in town, and living with me. Also, I have successfully gotten her addicted to Fable II. Hahaha! I knew I would get one person hooked.

Rum's gone to England for the next 2 weeks, and Max is leaving for Ottawa on Wednesday for 5 days, Tanis is on the Island for a few days, and my dad is away in Nova Scotia until mid August. I am going nowhere.

I am the lady of the house for now, and it's pretty fun. I wake up extra early and water my vegetable garden, feed the silly babies (the cats) and potter around tidying things and being a homebody. Sometimes I go to work, sometimes I weed the garden, sometimes I work on my comic.

Speaking of my comic, I had a bit of a change of heart about something. I've been thinking about going to culinary school for awhile. I thought it was something I would enjoy, working in a kitchen, and then one day owning my own culinary business. But thinking about it now, I think that was just one of my whims. I do love cooking, but I love cooking in my own kitchen for my own friends, not being tested and graded on it. I want to always enjoy cooking, not start to hate it because I do it everyday.

So, I have a new idea!

I think I might want to be a graphic novelist.
And you know, it makes a lot more sense. What have I always loved? Writing, and drawing. I don't want to be just an artist, and I can't just sit down and write a story without getting bored anymore. So why not combine them?! Storytelling with pictures! I'm really excited, but I don't know what this means. Should I go to art school? Ah, I don't know. I don't think I could cut it in art school. Anyway, I have to go eat a piece of pie now because I don't know what else to talk about. Peace, I will start writing again regularly.

Happy Birthday

Today is my birthday.

I am 20 years old now.

I'll write more later.

Dreams and Almost!

One thing I have always been proud of are my insane dreams that I have almost every night. There's a line from Abarat that described perfectly what it's like:

"Candy has always prided herself upon having a vivid imagination. When, for instance, she privately compared her dreams with those her brothers descrcibed over the breakfast table, or her friends at school exchanged at break, she always discovered her own night visions were a lot wilder and weirder than anybody else's." Abarat, ch. 13, para. 1

That's pretty much what it's like for me too. I always have wilder, crazier dreams than everyone else I know.

Like last night. The whole thing was one continuous dream, but it kept getting broken up because I would wake up occassionally. But the awesome part was that as soon as I fell back asleep, the dream would continue.

I really wish I'd written it down right after I woke up, because as always, the finer details are lost to me now. I know there were zombies for the majority of the dream (very typical). We were in some city, hiding out from them. All the house were built high up, with ladders you could climb up to them. You could be walking down a completely empty street, with other people walking around too, enjoying the sunny weather, and then out of nowhere, a horde of zombies would come moaning towards you, prompting everyone to run and hide or shoot. The whole dream actually started at my mom's house, with zombies slowly taking over the neighbourhood, and some friends and myself holing up inside the house.

There was some crazy stuff. Tanis was in it, and, for some reason, she was pregnant (I don't know either, Tanis, it was fuucked). I was escorting and protecting her through the zombie wasteland, and we came to a place where it was safe, but run by this insane dictator-type fellow. He was an asshole, and and seeing me watching out for Tanis made him mad, so he kept trying to separate us. Finally, he approached me and told me that if I didn't do as he said, he would kill Tanis. I'm pretty sure he was going to kill me anyways, but I can't remember what happened next.

I kept trying to shoot these zombies in the head, but the trigger was incredibly hard to pull, and I kept missing, so finally, I walked right up to the damn thing, and slowly and deliberately shot a round into it head, and then said to it "That was a head shot, okay?" and it was like "Yeah, you're right" and then died.

Also, there was a final part, sans zombies, where I needed to make a magical weapon for someone, using some random odds and ends parts. A little girl was helping me, and she found something and then threw it away. I asked her what it was, and she said "Oh, it was just a tiny key." And I was thought, "Well shit, that sure sounds like a magical item I could use." I found it, and sure enough it was this tiny fucking key."

There was so much more that I can't remember, or even describe, to this dream. I'm going to make a habit of actually writing my dreams down now, because I could honestly write books based on them.

In other news, my birthday is in... one day!! Ahh! I know some people don't care about their birthdays, but mine is very important to me. I'm going to be 20 years old! I've been alive for two whole decades. I told Maria this, and she laughed. "Wooow, two whole decades? Hahaha, kid, talk to me again when it's been five." Still, it's a big deal! I'm super stoked.

Also, Tanis arrives two days after said birthday, and I'm really rushing to get everything done. Clear out that spare room, get a key cut, clean the whole place, etc. I also realized it smells like catfood in here. Sorry, Tanis =/

Now, a poem that was on the bus:

You wake up
your son at two
in the morning
so the boy
the dog and you
can leave the city
drive to the beach
just out of town
where you lie in the sand
to watch the night sky.

Your three heads
touching in the dark.

I really love that last part there. I don't know why it gets me so much.

Childhood Home

I slept over at my mum's house for the first time since I left it. Strangely, I found that I didn't really miss being there. Maybe that was because I had to sleep on the couch and she was her same-old self that made me want to leave in the first place, but I think it's a good sign.

It was fucked though. I've lived in that house practically my whole life, and the whole time I just felt like I was in a stranger's house, albeit a stranger's house where I knew where everything was. It was kind of sad, really. I guess that chapter of my life is completely over.

I used to have horrible dreams about having to leave the house. I'd come home and all my belongings were gone, and we had to find a new house. It looked like it had when we first moved in: white walls, linoleum floor, bare rooms. It was always very traumatic to think I'd never come back.

I actually can remember what the house was like the first time we saw it. I think I was only about 3 years old, and we had just driven across the country from Toronto. I walked around on my own a bit, and it all looked so big! That's obviously because I was only 3 and the whole place was sans clutter, but still, I just remember being so impressed with it's vastness.

I know everything about that house. I know which stairs creak, and how to sneak soundlessly down them on Christmas morning to check out all the presents before mum and dad woke up. I know which heaters were broken, and which one was always the best one to stick your wet shoes by (the one in front of the stairs). I can pick out the sound of our gate slamming shut from all the others.
I know what the wind sounds like as it howls down the trails. I know where Rachel and Peter and I buried that dead bird that mysteriously wound up in our front yard, and which tree was the best for climbing. I know (through trial and error) how steep the path behind my house was, and that you should never stand on the back of a tricycle and go careening down it.

Clearly, I'm reminiscing about my childhood home, and it's very sad. I had a lot of crazy adventures in the forests and trails with the rest of the neighbourhood hoodlums. One time, we tried to make maple syrup by picking sticky sap off of trees and mixing it with boiling water. Another time, while playing on the merry-go-round that used to be in the playground (when there was a playground), we found a wooden... thing. It was like an African mask, but miniature and on a string, and we all thought it was cursed.

Oh my god! I just remembered the rock that was in the little copse of trees behind Diana's house, where we used to play house! There was this tree that grew weird pods and had little shriveled beans inside them. Oh man, we used to run all around that little area. Wow, I'd completely forgotten. It's very different looking now. They got rid of a lot of the old places I used to play as a kid.

Rooms and Radiolab

Aaah back to listening to Radiolab. It's been a long time, and it feels good to listen to something thought provoking again. First I listened to Strangers in the Mirror, a really interesting show about a disorder called prosopagnosia, or "face blindness". Basically, people with this disorder cannot recognize the faces of people around them. Say you go on a date with someone, and you laugh and have an amazing time with them all night. The next day, you run into them on the street, and you have no idea who this person is. They're talking about the good time you had last night, and you can remember laughing with someone at dinner, but you can't, for the life of you, recognize their face. Or, you've been married for years and years and years to your husband/wife, but you couldn't pick them out in a crowd. It's totally crazy. Can you imagine living your life like this? One of the men said he gives himself visual cues to help him remember people, like, the colour of their hair, or the way they move.

The other show I listened to was Deception, and it was, predictably, all about lying. They talked about facial expressions, and the minuscule hints our faces betray as to how we're really feeling, and how these can help you tell if someone is lying. They told a story about a woman named Hope, who was a pathological liar turned con artist, and how she affected the people she duped. And then they talked to a couple scientists who made this questionnaire full of questions that are typically true of almost everyone, but are embarrassing enough that very few people will admit to them being true. Questions like, "Have you ever wanted to kill yourself to get back at someone?" "Have you ever wanted to rape someone/be raped by someone?" "Do you enjoy your own bowel movements?" Things that you would answer positively to. The people who denied these questions are liars, but they found that these liars generally succeeded more in things like sports, business and working in teams. In the case of sports, they tell themselves "I am the best. I'm going to win this because I am better than everybody here." This may not necessarily be true, but they do end up doing better than the people who told the truth on the questionnaire.

Talking to my friend Bryce about bees now. Did they always know how to make hives, or did they learn it on their own?

All I've done today is wake up late and clean my room. I feel kind of pathetic, but glad I got the room cleaning out of the way. It's always so satisfying when the job is finally done. The one thing I particularly like about this tiny room I have now is that it is so fucking easy to keep clean. There is one small closet, some space under my bed, and limited floorspace. I have 2 dressers, a bunk bed, a vanity and a bookshelf crammed in here. If I want to clean up, I don't generally have a sprawling mess on my hands, because there is nowhere for all of my things to sprawl. My old was at least 3 times the size of this, and that just meant there was 3 times the space for usless things. The closet was packed with a lot of clothes that weren't even mine, old childhood belongings, our dress-up box, box's of I-don't-know-what, and just... ugh, it makes me all depressed when I think about it. I just didn't like being in my room because it had gotten to a point where the clutter was uncontrollable, and even sleeping in it made me uncomfortable. But now, with my neat little space, I spend most of my time in it when I get home. I love how small it is. Those two pictures? In the one on the left, the picture was taken from the corner of my vanity near the door, and in the one on the left, the picture was taken from right in front of my closet. It is a small, small space, but I really do love it.

I ended up falling asleep at 6 am last night (this morning?). It's very hard to fall asleep when there's light streaming through your window. I want to buy like, those sleep masks. My new insomniac self would find them incredibly handy.

But I think I'd just hit rock bottom last night. No more of this shit. I remember when it started. I'd routinely stay up until 1, then 2, 3, more recently 4, and then, in the last few days, 5 and now 6. Fuck! But no more! Tonight I will make myself go to bed by 1 am at the very latest. I have a note taped to one of the shelves in my room that says "GO TO BED BEFORE 1 AM MORON!". Not that I listen to it much.


Yes, I know I spelled 'before' wrong.

Party planning, preparing for Tanis' arrival. I was stressing out about cleaning out the spare room, but when my dad and I took a look at it, most of it is just his tools, which he can easily cart away to his storage, and empty cardboard boxes, which we have a million of for some reason. Then a little vacuuming, and ta-da, should be good as new.

Also, trying to get back into drawing my comic again. I wish I could tell you what it's about, but I don't want someone to steal my idea! Paranoia! All I can do is give you one of the sources of my inspiration:

In the afterlife, you relive all your experiences, but this time with the events re-shuffled into a new order. You see, all the moments that share a quality are grouped together.

For instance, you spend 2 months driving the street in front of your house. 7 months having sex. You sleep for 30 years without opening your eyes. For 5 months straight you flip through magazines while sitting on a toilet. You take all your pain at once, all 27 intense hours of it (bones break, cars crash, skin is cut, babies are born). But once you make it through, it’s agony free for the rest of your afterlife.
That doesn’t always mean it’s pleasant. I mean, you spend 6 days clipping your nails, 15 months looking for lost items, 18 months waiting in line, 2 years of boredom (staring out a bus window, sitting in an airport terminal, waiting online).

One year reading books. Your eyes hurt though, and you itch because you can’t take a shower until it’s your time to take your marathon 200 day shower.

2 weeks wondering what happens when you die, 1 minute realizing your body’s falling, 77 hours of confusion, 1 hour realizing you’ve forgotten someone’s name, 3 weeks realizing you’re wrong, 2 days lying, 6 weeks waiting for a green light, 7 hours vomiting, 14 minutes experiencing pure joy.

3 months doing laundry, 15 hours writing your signature, 2 days tying shoelaces... 67 days of heartbreak. 5 weeks driving lost, 3 days calculating restaurant tips, 51 days deciding what to wear, 9 days pretending you know what is being talked about, 2 weeks counting money, 18 hours staring into the refrigerator, 34 days longing, 6 months watching commercials, 4 weeks sitting in thought, wondering if there’s something better I could be doing with my time... 3 years swallowing food, 5 days working buttons and zippers, 4 minutes wondering what your life would be like if you re-shuffled the order of events.

In this part of the afterlife you imagine something analogous to your earthly life, and the thought is blissful. A life where episodes are split into tiny, swallow able pieces: Moments do not endure, where one experiences the joy of jumping from one event to the next like a child, hopping from spot to spot on the burning sand.

Running Out of Time

This last week of June is starting to feel just a little bit too hectic for my tastes.

For one thing, it's my birthday on the 29th. I will be turning 20 years old. I'm pretty excited about it, actually. Max has something planned for the day, but he won't tell me what. Then, on the 30th, I'm going to spend the whole day prepping for the birthday party. And finally, on July 1st, I'm having my BBQ Birthday Bonanza! At least, that's what I called it in the Facebook event.
I'm a mixture of nervous/excited, actually. Nervous because me and parties generally do not mix, but excited because the food is going to be awesome! I'm sure I already wrote this down on here before, but I'm going to do it again:

• beef/hot italian sausage burgers. Some will be stuffed with cheese
• salmon burgers
• hot dogs
• potato salad
• cherry tarts with crumble top
• my grandmothers chocolate cake, with chocolate mousse as frosting, with fresh raspberries

That's just the most important stuff. I'll have chips and shit around as well, but my god, it sounds good. I've actually simplified the menu quite a bit, so I'm not spending a million bucks for my own birthday. I'm really, really looking forward to the cake, ever since I thought of the mousse as frosting.

Also, I just realized today that I don't have infinite time to sort out my spare room for Tanis. I kept thinking, "Oh, I've got like 2 weeks until she gets here". Nope. She's arriving the same day as my party. Fuuuuck. Not that it's a huge problem, it just feels like all of a sudden, everything is speeding towards me.

Okay, it's taken me like an hour to write only those meager paragraphs. It's like, 5:15 am and I really can't think straight anymore. I keep zoning out to look at my favourite sites, like Maneki Collection, this cute website that sells beautiful, beautiful things. One day I'm just going to get a credit card (or a whole bunch of prepaid credit cards, which seems more probable) and buy everything on there.

Damn, there was honeslty more important things I was going to talk about. Ah well. Maybe another time, when it's not 5 in the morning.

PS. I'm fucking addicted to Passion Pit right now, particularly Better Things, Fold In Your Hands and Moth's Wings. There's something wild and different about these songs, that make me want to leap and scream and laugh and cry all at the same time.