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Thursday, December 30, 2004

"what would happen if, ten years from now, we found out that ritalin had negative long-term side effects...like caused people to barf lasers. civilization would be destroyed, man."

"mike...what part of barfing lasers do you see as negative? It's fucking cool."

Monday, December 27, 2004

humbug 

christmas always makes me gloomy. maybe it's just my natural demeanor. i don't know. all i know is that new years marks the beginning, and christmas marks the end. i sit with my family and i think what have i done this year that puts me in a different place from last christmas? where is my new perspective to take into the new year? lately i've been going through the days with my eyes shut.

i want this to be easy but it isn't.

the snow is collecting in drifts over three feet high on one side of my house and the wind is rattling my windows like a kid shaking a sno-globe. i'm small. i'm lonely. i miss my katie. my jaime. my amanda. i miss mike. i miss how things used to be easy. now everything comes with a warning. a disclaimer for my comfort and protection.

(you know, i used to feel certain about things. i used stand feet planted, eyes focused.)

i am not normal.

i just want christmas to be over.

Friday, December 24, 2004

yesterday, the fog came in thick grey sheets off the land. The city was obscured, forced to see everything through a layer of smoke. We drove by the commons and i squinted to see across the long stretch of grass, but after only a few yards, everything blended into the grey and became a part of the low moving clouds of fog. The people walking there were barely visible. walking shadows. ghosts meandering through a heavy mist, or else the victims of a nearby fire, stumbling through a space of hot ash and thick, lightless air. they wave their hands slowly in front of their faces, trying without success to push the haze from their eyes.

Wednesday, December 22, 2004

so i haven't been posting.

i don't know what's wrong. lately i'm feeling secretive. inclusive. i don't want to share. i don't want anyone to know why i'm angry or what particular colour of the sky made me smile this morning.

two things:

1)i cut all my hair off. it's awesome.

2)i have the best boyfriend in the whole world. yeah, he may be crass and obnoxiously drunk and playing with food in a packed restaurant at three in the morning...but i love him. he's the best.

i'm ready for non-denominational, all-inclusive present giving day... are you?

Friday, December 17, 2004

wheeeee!

remember that paper i was writing? the one about nothing?

my prof just emailed me and told me that i got an 'A' on it.

fifteen pages on an abstract concept.

'A'.

in your face, metaphysics! I own you!

oh my.

wasn't i supposed to be studying all week for this last exam so i would be super prepared?

oops.

at least i have something to show for all that time i squandered.

oh wait.

no i don't.

fuck beans.

Tuesday, December 14, 2004

when did i stop having adventures? i used to have adventures. amanda and i would spend days climbing mountains and fighting beasts that hid behind rocks, always moving so you could never really see them, but you knew they were there. we were an army of two, with mud-based ammunition and an older sister enemy. one time it rained so hard that the woods around her house flooded. we waded up to our knees for what seemed like miles. we thought the world was ending, climbed a tree for safety and looked out at the bay, envisioning floating houses and riverboat villages. we would purposely get lost for the fun of finding our way out, every step of the way, pretending to hear a twig snap and whipping around gasping "what was that?". we would creep, unheard, into neighboring yards, peek into windows and purposely misinterpret what we saw to fit into our dark and grotesque imagined world. we attached sleds onto moving tractors and gripped the sides, white-knuckled, fearing nothing. one summer we spent an entire day launching her canoe, with us in it, into the water from higher and higher altitudes. in the end the canoe sunk, destroyed and defeated. but we had adventures. i remember when the rain overswept the river banks and the current carried us out into the bay, in the dark, and no one even knew we were swimming. we made it back. it was an adventure. i don't seem to have adventures anymore. the train trip was an adventure. but it was the pre-planned, pre-paid kind of adventure that is wonderful and exciting, but lacks the childish simplicity of my concept of "adventure".

the last time i really felt that feeling, was this summer. tall ships. fire works and too much coffee. he and i on the boardwalk, laughing. we walked along the tracks until we realized that we could no longer cut upwards onto the next street. we had to scale the rock face, clutching flimsy trees, feet sliding under loose dirt and pebbles. we had to climb over a fence and crawl through someone's backyard. it was small. it was simple. but it was an adventure. two months later, i filed a police report on the same person for obsessive threats to me on the internet.

maybe i'm too old for all of it. i'm at that point when i either have to pay for childish reverie, or watch it turn into the kind of "adventures" that only happen in bad crime movies. i don't want to believe that.

let's go out. let's do something silly. let's have an advenuture.

"my beer went away" 

last night was crazy. i am simply not a beer drinker and for that, i apologize. i tried my best and slugged down five...the rest had to be stiffer. whose vodka and whiskey did i steal? i'm not sorry.

when i arrived at six, the room already smelled like a fermenting, dead hooker and was a ridiculous temperature. i opened windows and staggered around for the rest of the night in a lingerie top. oh my.

i mistakedly called willer "fez", and he spent the rest of the night either demanding a lap dance, or asking to lick the spilt vodka out of my cleavedge. eeps. ben is a slut. sean is the equivalent of a sniper, but with a camera and his new name is Mrs. Panties.

Mailboxhead = Meatboxhead

and iain is "so supple".

bianca and i briefly discussed tag-teaming everyone. instead, she showed me her monster patches. i picked the fat one and the one with all the wicked tentacles.

swoon for monsters and bianca.

168. i'm so proud of all you boys. especially ben, who i heard was so smooth when the cops showed up. it must have been difficult with, you know, upwards of 160 beer cans lining a coffee table directly behind, and in plain view. yep. smooth.

Friday, December 10, 2004

so i should be studying, but instead i just typed my own name into a google search.

only one thing came up that was actually about me: bianca's blog.

she wrote something last february about me being a writer.

i find this terribly interesting. and typically ironic. it makes me grin.

life is a funny little chinese finger trap.

Thursday, December 09, 2004

i have an exam tomorrow.

someone make me care about it. come on. i need to care.

*throws books out the window and runs around screaming with a blanket tied around her shoulders for a cape*

Monday, December 06, 2004

oh, kaitlin....

i love you. let's have a thousand babies.

i've finished my paper.

oh.

god.

i've finished it.

*breathes*

two exams. first on friday.

i. can. do. this.

I feel like people are always tiptoeing around things with me.
There's always someone they don't want me in a room with.

I am a key ingredient to social awkwardness.
I suppose this is my fault. I'm trying to fix it, but it just won't fix.

I chose the path of least resistance, even though I didn't like the sound of it from the beginning. I'm doing everything in my power to alleviate tension and remove myself from situations that force me to feel hatred.

I don't want to hate anyone. (because it isn't about hate. it's about healing. it's about not being friends, but also not being enemies. a pre-emptive defense.)

When I hear about events and ask if I can join I don't want to hear
"sure, but"
"if you want..."
"as long as...."

am i that much of a risky invitation?

maybe i'll just stay home.

Saturday, December 04, 2004

For those about to rock... 

My short-but-sweet set at Friday's Geek Beer garnered more of a response than I was expecting. (Mike. I concede. You were right about the mellow songs.)

I'm working on building up my repetoire of songs that are upbeat, smokin' and condusive to ass-shaking.

suggestions welcome.

living here feels like a perpetual state of eavesdropping.
i can't always hear what they're saying, but they seem to carry out a lot of important and confidential conversations in their porch. when they talk in their porch it sounds like they're in my closet. my closet holds their secrets as well as my own, rustling like paper-winged moths in my small collection of evening gowns.

i think they feel sorry for me.

everytime they come over to borrow something, they always invite me to join them. i would read this simply as etiquette were there not a strange pause before each invitation. usually they invite me over to smoke weed. and you know? i think they were holding out the whole time. ever since the getting-locked-out incident where they took me in, smoked me up and let me watch the o.c., i can't walk past their door without getting a blast of eau-de-maryjane right in my face. it's fine by me.

i just wish they would stop arguing and telling secrets in my closet.

holyjesusmotherfuckingshitchrist.

now that i've secured my place in hell, man was it busy today.
i made so many candy cane lattes and soy-chai whatevers that my hands permanently smell like the espresso machine...which is really kind of nice.

a standard sunday at the cs second cup brings in about $80. not too busy.
today i made $230. Yowza.

A girl came up to me twenty-five minutes after i closed and asked for a latte. i said no. she pouted and made puppy dog eyes. i laughed in her face. i wonder how often that works for her.

you know what i've noticed?
when people come up after four o'clock, they always ask "are you guys still open?"

"you guys?"

what are they seeing that requires the plural? it's just me. no one else.
I am closed.

I'm fucking tired. Time to write a paper about nothing.

Friday, December 03, 2004

i have a weird dent in my forehead. i think i was dropped and nobody told me. this explains so much.

(listen, bitch. you called me early this morning. you woke me up from much needed sleep. you said you were coming over at noon to see the place. well. it's three and you have yet to show. you're a dumb whore you wasted a whole lot of my time. i hope you fall down some stairs.)

the last of the poetry critiques: check.
last american literature novel: check.
some work on my paper: check.

it's not so bad...is it? is it? it's not so bad.

(on the plus side, because of your lies, my apartment is clean. very clean. eerily clean.)



Thursday, December 02, 2004

he's sleeping but i can't sleep. scratching my head in weary contemplation and looking over my shoulder for what's never behind me. i turned off all the lights and every second i'm accosted by my own reflection in the glass of my cd shelf, sitting eye-level on my cluttered desk. my apartment during the exam period always looks like a war-torn country. something is pounding. pulsing under the floor and through the wall. are they having a party? my reflection is making faces at me when i'm not looking. sneaky bitch. i don't want to write a political rant. i don't want to write a political rant. george bush is not worthy of my words and yet i can't help myself. i watched the whole speech today in the cs building, head propped up against a couch cushion, sipping the free coffee that i get for being staff. it was a clever speech. full of subtle propaganda. you don't fool me mr. bush. a quick mention of the nhl and alberta beef and a joke about jean poutine does not convince me that you are educated about this country's history, culture or policies. a few scattered laughs from your hand-picked to be not-too-lefty audience does not convince me that you should have our support, nor does it lighten your megalomaniac plans to arm space. star wars is a movie, you war-monger, not a battle plan for your second term in office. how dare you say that trade between our countries has increased when alberta farmers are losing their livelihoods over a single mad cow. how dare you use words like 'freedom' and 'democracy', when the only concept you truly understand is corporate greed. oh. and newsflash: democracy cannot be enforced. it must come up through the people, otherwise, by the most basic of definitions it is not a democracy. lastly, as for your belated thanks to our country for housing stranded travellers? keep it. you and i both know that you're just trying to keep 9/11 fresh in everyone's minds so that your continuing and appalling actions in the middle east seem at least -slightly- justified. and hey, you got a nice photo to put in the papers, right? it's just so convenient. kind of like that osama tape that just happened to surface right before the election. riiiight. and i'm the pope you dishonest, bloodthirsty sack of shit.

whew.

Wednesday, December 01, 2004

I should be working. 

writing a paper.
writing a paper.
writing a paper.

about nothing. (no really, the abstract concept of "nothing" is the main element of my thesis.)

writing a paper.
writing a paper.
writing a paper.

about nothing. (my use of rhetoric is akin to a small dog chasing his own tail around and around and around in a circle. i can't catch it, but neither can you, because i'll bite your fingers off motherfucker.)

writing a paper.
writing a paper.
writing a paper.

about nothing.

give me an A.

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