Shoveling Again

I tried to laundry today. I am getting to that crucial point where i will have to start turning things inside out if i don't manage to get involved with some soap. So i sucked it up and sorted it out and sacked it downstairs.... no *$%#ing soap. I could have sworn i saw bruder doing his laundry just earlier today, so either he's going for the 'cleaned with water and smells good because of bounce' style or he used the last of the dang soap. So it'll be slim pickins for tomorrows outfit. Maybe i'll just go to work in my pjs (ie. from the bed to my desk next to my bed) which always works out pretty nice and cozy for me.

I have this cat scratch right across my hand that looks like the mark of the devil. It's days old and still flaming red and itchy and painful. Freaking cat allergies. Remind me not to poke snappy mum in the tummy, especially when her boyz are around and making her all crazy like and hissy.

I am going to occasionally flip through my handy pocket dictionary (those aren't adjectives, it's actually called that) and write out a definition that i find interesting. I want to say it will be a new word of the day addition, but since i can't be sure i'll keep it up, i will call it the sporadic word of the day for now. Here you are to further your intellectual pursuits:

ream: (sure i know you've all heard this word before but i wonder if you knew it's other meaning... i know i didn't)
- n. quantity of 480 to 516 sheets of paper (what a totally random quantity!). - v. enlarge (a hole) (i don't think i've ever heard it quite put like this, but yup, that makes sense).

... there you have it folks, you are now dumber AND smarter for having read today's post. Leaving us somewhere around neutral. You are welcome.

Well that was rather unfocused... and i think i was planning on writing about shoveling again.

Love

The most heart warming moments in my life come in small soundclips and small bunches of words. It's not the whole letter, the whole conversation, the whole experience. It's the small, small moments. For example, i received this small bit of words from one of my favourite people in the world, my cousin:

"i forgot to attach this to my last message:

a, i love you so much i would die for you.

and i still feel warm and fuzzy inside.

thank you.

m."

That was days ago and my heart still beats stronger because of it. And most likely it always will, i just won't be as aware of it. Every act of love makes the heart stronger. People tell you that onions are good for the heart... but they're wrong; it's love.

Here is another recent heartwarming moment in my life:

"your different i believe.
that's a GOOD thing.
your cool."

Maybe it doesn't seem as powerful as the first one, but you have to take into account a lot of factors. The first one was something that, although it may not have been said just like that before, was something i instinctively knew about my relationship with my cousin. The second one was a little more unexpected.

So go through all your old letters and emails and memories and find those small moments that make you stronger. Here are some more of mine (if you can't find any of your own, just know that someone out there feels these things about you... they just may not know how to say it. So say it first):

"i think j almost loves you more than i do (but this is not possible)."

"i feel so very blessed that our paths have crossed!"

"this particular moment will forever remain with me in the deepest recesses of my soul. it has brought me more comfort than you will ever know and continues to provide me with inspiration to this very day."

"you make me feel like i'm drunk alllll the tiiiiiime."

"Unless you didn't know, I'll make it clear to you. You kick ass. You're pretty. You play music gorgeously. And you sing like you were dancing on the head of a pin while being counted by philosophers (I borrowed bits of that last phrase for D. Adams. I don't need the credit -- sure, it's not as cool, paraphrasing others when you're trying to make your own point, but fuck it).
You talk a mile a minute, and even if most of us can only listen half as fast, we still hear the best parts."

"a., you are my favorite a., always remember it's true, there's only one you."

"that is why i need more of you."

"love."

... it's nice to remember you are loved.

... it's nice to remember those you love.

just know that i love you.

me

i ♥pencil crayons.
i don't collect things, except for books and cds.
i never had braces and my teeth are really straight.
i kept all my wisdom teeth.
my favourite time of the day is right after i floss and brush my teeth when i am just lying in bed, feeling around in my mouth.
for a long time, i hated juice, but now i ♥it.
i've successfully rid myself of many addictions.
i breathe from my belly, like a child.
i can cook, but i pretend i can't.
i'd be a vegetarian if i didn't hate labels.
i like words for all sorts of reasons: look, feel, taste, sound, meaning....
i used to hate birds, but i think i was just jealous; now, i am fascinated by them.
i ♥anything vonnegut.
i ♥anything irving.
i cry at least once during almost every movie.
i read books in three days, or i don't read them at all.
i ♥my bed, but i could sleep anywhere.
i ♥poetry.
i ♥poetry.
i ♥poetry.
i think you learn the most about people through what they don't say.
i don't write music, it writes itself.
i don't play the guitar, it plays itself.
i learned how to play the piano in a dream.
i don't play the trumpet, until someone reminds me... hilarity ensues.
i only need a small amount of space.
i would like to try living with nothing.
i would like to try living some place warm.
i would like to try living some place foreign.
i would like to try living by myself.
i would like to try living with someone else.
i would like to try surfing.
i would like to try snowboarding.
i would like to try skateboarding.
i would like to try exposing myself to strangers with a guitar and a mic.
i want to be happy when i grow up.
i want a job that keeps my body active.
i try to learn something everyday.
i try to get up early in the morning.
i try to make sense of everything.
i tried to stop loving, but i just felt empty.
i lost my best friend to cancer years ago, and i've never been the same.
i am affected even by the death of strangers.
i wake up every morning a different person in a different life.
i don't like worrying about money.
i don't like money.
i don't like any of the political leaders in north america, in fact i just plain don't like politics.
i try to think about things like war and poverty and hunger, but it hurts too much and it's hard to understand from my safe and cozy house.
i like cemetaries.
i like funerals.
i don't like death.
i like to be alone.
i don't like feeling alone.
i don't like alcohol, except for those rare times when i am drunk. then i love it.
i may use the word hate, but i don't really think i really feel it or understand it.
i don't think i overuse the word love.
even when i lie, there is still some truth to it.
i like canadian chocolate.
i have a love/hate thing going on with winter.
i can't stop thinking about summer.
i love all the seaons for different reasons.
i ♥sandals.
i ♥pizza.
i ♥pierogies.
i ♥pasta.
i don't really like fruit, but mostly its a texture thing.
i don't eat a lot of sweet, but when i do i eat a lot.
i prefer poetry that you can't really understand.
i hear radio static in my left ear.
after i yell, i can't hear anything for a few moments.
no one has ever called me 'normal'.
i ♥alliteration.
my grandmother wrote a book of poems, but i never understood them until now.
i get trapped inside of books, but i don't even try to get out.
sometimes i love the attention, and sometimes i don't.
my sister saved my life three times, but she did try to kill me twice.
i thought i loved dogs, but i'm not so sure anymore.
there are people i love so much, i would die for them.
i'm probably never fully satisfied.
i find cats fascinating.
i have had 7 cats in four years: one, then zero, then one, then six, then five, then four, then three.
i am allergic to cats.
i will never drink coffee.
i don't like warm drinks.
i am an aries; i need balance.
i don't like games.
i am very picky about sandwiches.
i believe in love at first sight.
i believe in happily ever after.
i believe in magic.
apparently a person's umbrella says a lot about them; i refuse to carry an umbrella: what does that say?
i love socks, but i also love being bare foot.
i don't like when people rub their feet together.
music is like air; i need it to breathe.

... but that's just me.

Guest Room Nanny

From time to time in this house, we are surprised by the sudden appearance of a guest room nanny. Most often, they are quiet and spend much of their time divided between cleaning house and hiding in the guest room. Our current guest room nanny, however, is quite the exception. She cooks, and cleans up the kitchen as most of them do, but she is not incessantly recleaning the whole house which never needs much cleaning anyway. This always makes me feel uncomfortable as we are never the employer and i would always like for them to just relax and feel comfortable. She also likes to talk... really likes to talk. Usually we struggle at the dinner table to make some sort of conversation and everyone is uncomfortable and eating fast so we can leave my mom to deal with the situation which she has brought upon us. There's no need to force conversation with her. She's smart as a whip and quick to laughter and has a never ending supply of stories to entertain us.

I want to keep her.

...even if she did call me fat.

I am going to assume that it was a language difficulty and so 'fat' is not exactly what she meant. She said something along the lines of i was skinny yesterday and fat today. I believe she was referring to the stomach bulge i was sporting as is the usual day-after result of a rather gluttonous outing to the mall food court. That and my enormous sweatpants that were made for someone three times my size; i prefer to swim in my clothes than to have them stick to me. It's mostly a comfort preference.

I'm gonna wear my skinny jeans today just to overcompensate... it's amazing how much negative power the 'f' word has even for a girl who's been struggling just to stay above 120lbs.

Once again, i am amazed by the power of words.

Sandalapse

I’ve been dreaming of summer, putting outfits together in my head from all the summer clothes I have accumulated over the winter season, and imagining the perfect pair of sandals. I used to purchase sandals quite often, but settled into a comfortable pair from my old prep school. Even after they broke, I pinned them together and kept right on wearing them, wearing them out. So when I tried to relive the ‘fits like an old shoe’ feeling by replacing my old sandals with an identical pair, I found the substitute rather disenchanting. I clung to the old memory and attempted to work the new shoes in, but it’s just not the same and will never be. So this year, I am going to buy the perfect sandal. I have a number of different visions in my head, and haven’t figured out which is perfect, but I will know it when I see it… or I will know a number of them. How I love sandals. Anyway, today on this day in late January, with shovel loads of snow on the ground (I should know because I just got my soul back from bruder for shoveling the snow he ‘forgot’ about for three days and thought he was going to get away with… without… did that sentence make sense?), I found a perfect pair of sandals to start my summer collection. I won’t go in to the details because I don’t want the tons of people *cough* three *cough* reading this going out and buying them. So anyway, I find them glowing at some sidewalk sale in the mall. They are rather expensive for sandals, at least the sandals I am used to buying, but I think for such a great sandal which just happen to be just what I am looking for only better, I will go for it even though I don’t have money to be spending these days.

“You going somewhere warm?” the girl on cash asks.

“No,” realizing suddenly that it’s a rather odd time of year to be buying sandals. I proceed to mumble something about dreaming about the perfect sandal, longing for summer.

It’s obvious she isn’t interested.

Swipe card, as I joke about how this will answer my question as to whether or not I should buy them; the answer is no if I don’t have funds available. I was only half serious.

‘Not Approved.’

So I probably shouldn’t have been buying them in the first place. But I do miss the sandals already. While the girl in the store wonders what kind of nut I am to be spending money that I obviously don’t have on sandals in the freaking middle of winter. And not even cheap sandals at that.

It was a momentary lapse in judgment. Quite often the world has a strange way of counteracting these if you’d only keep an eye out for the signs.

I have plenty of time to find the perfect pair of sandals.

I had too much food for lunch.

I won’t even tell you how much, that’s how much. And then topped it off with dairy queen.

Best idea of the month: pancakes for dinner.

Anthem Montages and Flag backdrops: Election Day 2006

"Please hand the ballot back to me, folded in the same way."

She hands me the ballot.

I hand her the ballot.... still folded in the same way.

"I refuse."

"Oh you are my first!"

"See dad? I just made her day."

"You didn't make my day."

"He tried to leave me at home."

"Well, it is your right."

"That's what i said."


I posted this story for k-dawg who wanted to hear all the sordid details of my ballot refusal today. As you can see, there really wasn't much to tell. I was hoping for a long line and for someone to overhear my refusal and to start heckling, and then i was going to come up with some beautiful speech about freedom and liberties and on and on, just like out of the movies, with the national anthem playing proudly in the background and a flag slowly sliding into the background. So it didn't exactly turn out that way. I wore my 'Vote for Pedro' t-shirt for this special occasion, but unfortunately it was too cold and i had to wear a sweater, and i wasn't really inside for long enough to remove my coat and sweater, so i guess only my family will be able to enjoy it.

What was interesting was how my old elementary school has not changed a bit. Although, now i am much bigger and everything that once seemed massive is tiny. Oh a little change in perspective!... same boot smell, same awards on the wall, same big red secretary desk... same everything. Perhaps even the artwork has been hanging there since i left over a decade ago... woah. decade. That's some reality for you.

I had another dose of reality today to which i can only say wow. wow. wow. wow. and double wow. I cannot comment here, so you'll have to settle for suspense. I have a secret and you can't have it. Na na. Na na. Boo. Boo. Suckas!

And to finish off, I would like to state for the record that i am not the crazy cat lady. I know there are three of them, and i was the one to bring them here, but it's definately my mom. Yes of course she is married and has kids and such, so some of the criteria is a little off... but she most definately is the crazy cat lady. And the man at the door to see my dad can vouch for that as i am sure he is not interested in the details of our cats comings and goings and how timo likes to go outside so that he can climb up and look at us through the window and how he is the only one who can climb up there like that, and how it's a nice day so they are coming and going quite regularly now and how the little one is actually the mother and she has a bit of an attitude problem and hisses at the boys... and on and on and on. I can overhear their conversation and can only imagine the look of why is she telling me this on the man's face. I always catch my mom telling the most random people all about the cats. It's so bizarre. She's obsessed with them. And just this morning she was complaining about how the ruin everything... by this she means the carpet looks rattier than it used to and there is fur all over a curtain in the guest room (well, yes it also turns out that they didn't just dirty the white curtain but actually broke it as well)... but i will have to take the side of the cats on this one and say that the carpet is not so bad off as i would expect it to be with three cats, the curtain was ugly anyway and still looks fine even if it's broken... and most cats climb up all over everything and break lots of things and eat lots of human food, and these cats don't... hence, they are great and she knows it so should just stop badmouthing them when there's no point.

Hence, i am the crazy cat lady.

You wish you were one, too.

Listening to Wyclef on A Lazy Saturday Early Afternoon (Just Love)

inhale.
wycleeeeeeeef.
inhale.
wyceeeeeeeeeeeef.

The headphones are smart. My ears are thankful.
But the pressure increase is enormous.
Even with my mouth shut.

"trust me when i tell you this
one day you will be missed
someone will replace your kiss
you want to be hard core,
like the rapper jadakiss
Or a thug like me-e-e
will be up in your ho-ouse, ho-ouse, ho-ouse, ho-ouse
cooking breakfast in the morning"

*crackle, crackle,
crackle, crackle*

"... all my people live on."

it's always been more about the feeling inside me
than the sounds in the air;

it's always been more about the feeling inside me
than the sounds of the sounds in the air;

it's always been more about the feeling inside me
than the sounds of the sounds of the sounds in the air.

sounds of the
sounds of the
sounds of the
sounds of the
sounds of the
sounds in the air.

"... so sing along street children..."

it's universal
and divided
and devicise

it's universal.
now, that's love.

it's unversal.
and that's enough.

there's just love.
just love.
just love.
just love.

Just.
Love.

inhale....

wycleeeeeeeef....

in. hale....

wycleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeef.

"...for the love of life, stop it!
... wyclef, we loved the fugees, the score
but did anybody give you any strange package to bring on board.
... when will the violence
say peace
say peace
we don't want no war no more."

Things That Go Bump In The Night

"Last night we kept hearing this BAROOOM sound," said my mom with equally vague descriptive action. "Your father kept getting out of bed to investigate but it would stop when he got into the hall so he would stand and wait for it in the hall like this," along with especially dorky descriptive action, "listening to silence, and then every time he gave up and got back into bed, the sound would happen again." obviously.

"What was it?" i asked her.

"We couldn't figure it out."

"Where was it coming from?"

"We couldn't figure it out!"

From the description, it sounded like a rather dangerous noise to me. We were both visibly concerned by the unknown auditory intrusion.

"It sounded like it was coming from a computer," she offered.

"Man, i hope it wasn't my computer. If it was she must be sicker than i thought," because clearly there was no way that the sound so graciously acted out by my mother could be coming from a healthy computer. I was worried.

******

"That's it!!" my mother screams while standing in my room, "What is that?"

"The door slam? It means someone signed off instant messenger."

What a let down. The noise was nothing remotely exciting. What i don't understand is what is so horrible about this particular noise to warrant such a nasty visual and auditory portrayal. What i don't understand is how such an insignificant noise of such infrequent occurrence could warrant such a frustrated investigation. I hardly even notice the noise anymore.

******

I was have a lie down on my bed, and i could hear the neighbour dog barking as usual. I couldn't seem to block it out so i put on my headphones, which are plugged into my computer, but as i am not playing any music they functioned essentially as sound mufflers thereby blocking out enough of the barking dog that i was able to ignore it and go about my lie down in peace. Well, somewhere along the way i fell asleep when i was rudely interrupted: BAROOOOOM accompanied by equally vague descriptive action.

I would have investigated.

*******

Put your shoe on your left foot and try to walk like me.

Field of Diamonds

I have been hibernating for most of the winter, wondering what i ever used to like about this miserable season. And then, i went for a walk to deliver some mail, and i remembered:

There is nothing like a beautiful winter's day.

Especially after a span of exceptionally cold days, where your safety is compromised if you leave the bear cave. Then suddenly, the temperature rises, the city is covered in a soft powder snow, the sun is out in full force and glistens on the fresh snow like a field of diamonds. Not that i couldn't get along without these occasional magical winter days in a city with a less intense winter season (the winters here tend to drag and drag and drag... what a drag). But on days like this, i marvel at the beauty of Mother Nature. Even shoveling is an enjoyable activity rather than a chore; the snow is light like feathers.

When it comes to shoveling, and most things, i happen to be a bit of a perfectionist. The shovel strokes must be in a pattern, any ice that can be chipped away must be chipped away and there is no stopping until the whole thing is done, even if your arms feel like they weigh a ton - which they do, because the boy normally does the shoveling; i was not adequately prepared for such physical labour. But it also reminds me how much i love the burn of some respectable physical labour. If i could make money through a combination of physical labour and creative/artistic forces, i would be golden.

Some new light bulbs went off last night. I'm excited, aren't you?

Taken one day at a time, each day is better than the last.

Exhale, inhale.

Breathe like a child... from the belly.

"You're doing it, Peter. You're doing it!" *imaginary pie in the face*

Peace

Funeral today, for a man i never knew. I suppose that's my favourite kind - no one likes loss. Is it weird that i like funerals? Is it weird that i like to stroll around cemetaries? Nobody asked you anyway...

I just did, didn't i?

I always cry at funerals. Even when i am not grieving a loss. How anyone can watch a person cry and not feel it, is something i will not understand in this life, nor do i want to? That's how you understand people... try on their emotions. There are so many emotions to try on at a funeral.

It's beautiful and it's peaceful and it's magical and it's love.

Rest. In. Peace.

Sinn

Telephone me. Not call me. Not phone me. Telephone me.

It's awesome and i'm going to use it.

I didn't partake in any social activity this weekend. I spent most of it inside my head. Which, for the most part is an entirely pleasant experience. I promise myself that i will be friends with my mind forever. We've had some rough times together, but we get through them. I've named my mind sinn.

Is that weird?

No, not sinn as in those things they tell you to confess to priests... it's just the Norwegian translation of mind. (I don't speak Norwegian, but the internet does).

Sinn tells me lots of contradictory things but mostly just to point out various perspectives on one matter. And more often than not, sinn stears me in the right direction.

You wouldn't believe the things sinn came up with to occupy my time this weekend.

"Sinn," i says, "do you really know what you are doing? Is this letter really a good idea. Do you really think i should be telling her these things."

Sinn was appalled by my distrust, "Trust me. I know more than you think."

Of course, sinn has the advantage of being in touch with those parts of my unconscious that i have not unlocked. And i should know by now not to doubt, but this was an exceptionally odd and particularly random demand. In the end, i went through with it. Well, sinn went through with it and i watched.

My trust in sinn has skyrocketed. We both feel better about it.

Encrypted confessions

I've imposed limits on my creativity. Every one of them self-imposed.

I was daydreaming in the shower: A concert, what goes best with wine?, a slip of the tongue, unfortunate audience members, an almost blissful relief about the whole thing. But there are entire circumstances that have been left unsaid.

It's best to express yourself in encryption. It says more and less at the same time. Let others make the call. They always do, anyway... and this way may actually be more accurate.

Depending always on level of enlightenment.
Depending always on level of intimacy.

Perhaps not always preferred. But at the moment, yes.

What can you make of it?
What can i make of it?
What can we make of it?

It's only in our minds, anyway.
It's all that matters and it doesn't matter, anyway.

None of this means anything without love.
Without pure, unconditional, magical, universal love.

And that's blissful relief.

Canada: Elections 2006

As the elections draw closer, my politically charged brother keeps hounding me to clarify my position on the matter. Mostly he wants to pressure me into backing his vote and threatens to take away my voting card due to my ignorance. I think both these things are illegal, are they not? I have a right to vote. I also have a right not to vote.

Let's clarify.

See, the elections to me are a little like a game show, flashy lights, insincere smiles, promises of winnings.

I am asked to pick out of a number of doors. With a little twist, each door comes with a representative who tells you a teeny tiny amount of what is behind his respective door. The only problem is they don't have to tell the truth, and even if they did they don't tell you enough to make a decent decision.

Who knows? Maybe one of the doors has a man-eating lion behind it?! When you play a game show, you are supposed to come out on top or no worse than when you started. Unfortunately, in this game show, you could come out with your head in a lion.

So maybe i won't choose a door at all.

In my case, i don't know enough and i find it impossible to find all the information i need to make an educated choice between the doors. People call me irresponsible for not voting. But tell me this?

Voting the same election after election simply because 'i have and always will be a [insert political party here]'... is this responsible?
Following suit with your parents or siblings or any other person because you assume they are making the right choice... is this responsible?
Voting just for the sake of voting and 'making your voice heard' when you don't know enough about the political game... is this responsible?

Obviously no, and i would go so far as to say it's dangerous. Leave the politics to people who understand it, i say... I live in a world of magic. Politics is not magic and does not fit inside my head.

There is no accountability for untruths anymore. How does anyone ever know what they are getting?

I'm sure people will take offense to all this. But politics offends me. And voting simply to exercise your right to vote offends me.

Let the stoning begin.

I have no rocks.

Silently Screaming

So many things.

I’ve hardly said anything yet, and I’m already tired of talking about it.

I find myself planning millions of conversations.
I find myself with so much to say.

And yet, I find myself silent and covert.
My mind is filled with words… everything is on my mind
It’s like looking at unsorted laundry through the glass during the tumble dry.
It makes no sense, and there’s no point in staring.
Nothing will get dry this way.
You packed the machine too full.
I’m too numb to fold the clothes anyway.

I find myself wanting to scream.
I find myself wanted to smash things.

And yet, I find myself sitting here calmly still.
It’s like the gravitron at the fair
From the outside, it doesn’t even look like it’s moving.
Inside is the ride of a lifetime.
Only I’m the one standing next to the kid with the weak stomach.
The centripetal force sends vomit into my face.
I just stick to the wall, vomit soaked.
I smile through the embarrassment.
I’m crying inside.

I find myself making drastic escape plans.
I find myself fantasizing about any place but here.

And yet, I find myself here. Always here. Never anywhere else.
It’s like fish in the wrong bowl.
They get covered in a thick milky film and slow and slow until they die.
They don’t even float to the top of the bowl.
You try to change the water, you try to change the food… but it’s no use.
The fish just doesn’t like the bowl.
It’s just not the place he’s supposed to be and he knows it.
Some fish are smarter than they let on.

Intelligence comes at a price.
I’m too smart to be sane anymore.

p.s. to the siblings who read this: you can't understand this anyway, so don't bother trying and don't worry about it.

I Heart Comments

Dear Anonymous commenter,

I have been having that gum scenario in many of my dreams, and in fact have had the lettuce leaves scenario once before but never realized that they were related or what they could possibly mean... The analysis is insightful and probably dead on. I appreciate you pointing this out to me.

- al

Dear Rally,

Spatula is a great word! And i agree: look, sound and feel of the word all suggest a more abrasive meaning. It's connection to the tangible world via mundane kitchen utensil seems rather anti-climactic.

Conversation is the spice of life.

- al

Dreams and Reality

I'm onto something... and i don't know where it's going or why or how long i'll be on it.

In the days before the weekend, i had the following three scenarios play out:

- staying at a hotel with a large group made up of some sort of team, although i was never fully sure what team it was or how i was a part of it... whatever team, it was comprised of many girls who i used to play hockey with;
- numerous run-ins with parents of girls i used to play hockey with (and not from the previous dream scene);
- police officer asking me to go home with him

In the days of the weekend, the following three scenarios played out:

- stayed at a hotel where numerous teams were staying for a hockey tournament... randomly bumped into a couple girls i used to play hockey with in a highly synchronisitc fashion;
- an almost run-in with an old hockey parent in the elevator which for many reasons i am lucky to have evaded;
- security guard at hotel attempts to pressure me and a friend to go to some sketchy hotel party.

What does it all mean and where is this all going?

Words Words Words

I often write entire paragraphs in my head that don't actually say anything or lead anywhere. I just like the words. I like to write them. I like to say them. I like to read them. I like to look at them. Apparently i like to say them too much, as my mother so kindly pointed out tonight. She thought that with my brother out for the night, she would get a much needed respite from the chitter chatter... but then i came along and haven't shut up since.

I talk too much, and my dad eats too many carrots. The man eats more carrots than anyone i have ever seen. He claims to be able to see clearly into the neighbours house.

The following is a list of words that i like... it is by no means complete as i am just coming up with it off the top of my head (i always plan to write my favourite words down when i come across them but i never do it). I like them for various reasons: sound, feel, look, meaning... i don't always know what the reason is, i just know i like them:

smile
laughter
equivocal
tempest
peace
love
shelter
thursday
symphony
giggle
know
quest
word

... well, i could go on forever but i have better things to do. Actually i don't. But i'll stop for other reasons.

See you soon.

Losing sleep and gaining hours

Where am i? What time is it? What's going on?

It's been a weird morning... and in my world it seemed to go on for hours. In my world it's past 1pm. In the real world it's only 10am. Which explains a few things: why the house is still so quiet from sleep, that i didn't sleep through my alarm only reset the current time, how i could sleep for 13 hours (cause i didn't).

But it doesn't explain how i checked the time on my big clock and although i was confused, it seemed to verify the time i saw on my alarm clock. It also doesn't explain the dreams... the nightmares.

Maybe there is some anxiety that i haven't worked out?

Something to do with riding boats in the water. Or maybe they weren't boats. I know they eventually drove on land but maybe they were on land the whole time and i am just confused(well i'm clearly confused no matter what). The boats/land machines shot water missiles, and we were having quite a great time. Suddenly we were on a busy street and i was told to steer, but the vehicle was so high up and the street so busy that i couldn't do it without hitting something. Suddenly we veer off the road and are inside some parking lot type thing surrounded by barbed wire. Oh yeah, i forgot about the cops that randomly showed up before and one of them tried to get me to go home with him. Anyway, we managed to get out of the barbed wire fence and then we all met up at some cafe-ish type thing and i couldn't hear anybody and i only knew two of the people... one boy i dream about often (and in the dream i was telling him about another dream i had earlier in the night about him.... it's so weird when that happens) and a random girl from high school. It was a weird situation for too many reasons. I kept escaping to the bathroom where people would stare at me. Then it gets really weird. I can't open my jaw and i go to the washroom and the random high school girl knows something is wrong and follows me. I go to take the gum out of my mouth (and i am pretty sure this happens often in dreams) and its stuck all over my mouth and in my teeth, so i have to pull and pull and pull and i'm getting gum everywhere and the girls in the washroom and eying me something fierce, and there is gum forever! Someone calls a doctor, someone calls a priest to try to see which one can help... basically, pitting them against one another. And one of the people we are with gives me another stick of gum, which is so weird cause i clearly don't want anymore and i can't figure out what to make of that gesture. Anyway, i think i wake up shortly after the gum fiasco.

The other dream involved the boy who is often in my dreams. We are working in the same building i guess... i don't know what my job is because i don't think i am ever doing it. But his job has some sort of janitorial aspect to it, but is not quite janitorial. Anyway, his usually curly hair is in dreds with some fancy braiding on the end of some of the strands. His buddy who works with him also has a similar hair style. Anyway, he walks by me all day long, but is with people and doing his job while i pretend to do mine, and we just look at each other the whole time but don't say anything. Soon, the girls i work with want me to watch a movie with them, but I feel anxious about that cause i am sure my boss (who i have never seen) is going to bust us not doing work. I haven't done a thing all day, so why i care about this is beyond me... anyway, so we ditch the movie and start driving around with some older dude. I can't work the van doors, and at this point i realize the girls i have been working with are my neighbour/deerfield grad, and a girl i lived with at deerfield. And the dude is going on some killing rampage and we are just to stay in the car the whole time. No one seems to think this is weird, except for me and when he's in one of the many houses to do his business, i manage to open the hightech van doors and jump out of the van. I jump a fence and climb snow banks and plan to sneak into someone's garage and call the cops, but i wake up as i am struggling with the snow bank.

There was also another dream about babies and hockey parents and cats and allegra and some party at my house and some weird bathroom antics (bathrooms are a classic dream scene for me... whatever that means). I can't remember much about this dream though because it was hours ago and i slept and dreamt so much after it.

Anyway, i am feeling thoroughly confused and since i already thought i had stayed in bed until 1pm, i want to get back into bed and actually do it. This time minus all the bad dreams (Writing them out, they don't seem all that bad, but trust me there was a lot anxiety in the dreams and upon waking). I wonder what this all means.

What happened to sanity?

So much commotion over one little glass.

I think it's getting worse around here. I wish i had wings. I wish i had enough money under my wings to actually fly. I wish a lot of things that aren't going to happen any time soon.

There has been talk of getting rid of the cats. It turns out that my perpetual cold is a result of a cat allergy and for some reason this warrants the drastic action of kitten removal. People are allergic to grass and plants, but we don't just get rid of them.

We take allegra.

We make promises to each other that we can't and don't want to keep. We dream about things we don't understand. We believe in things but we don't have faith. We keep searching for a way out, but we all know there is none. On the other side, the grass looks lush and green but it's just a trick of the lighting - it's just as dry and brown over there too.

Is this life?