from my mind to yours - my internal dialogue of the evening

The easiest letter to write is going to be the one I write to Adam. Somehow, we've been through so much shit together, that I don't need to be remotely pretentious or self-aware. My handwriting doesn't need to be pretty, my spelling won't count and my ideas can be as abstract, as meaningful or as inconsequential as they seem. None of that will matter.

The hardest letters are going to be to people who I have hurt. Opening up to people who I'd rather not be vulnerable around. To people who might judge my intentions. It will be hard to write to my dad. I think I need to write two seperate letters - one to tell him how much I am hurt, and another to create peace. I don't know which one will come first, or if this will remain an unfinished venture.

It will be hard to write to Steve. Somehow the written word seems more resolute than our fleeting exchanges on the phone, and I am struck by the fact that there is so much weight to a letter, so much implicit meaning. I can't get past "dear Steve" without it feeling somehow too insignificant to continue. It is difficult to allow myself to be so translucent, and to somehow create an impression that might be favorable, might make me appear at once intelligent and honest and kind. Maybe that's not me.

It will be hard to write to Alana, who has shaped me so much over the past 4 years. Something in me tells me that I lost her, and yet I continue to walk the delicate line between rejection and devotion to a friendship that has sustained me at my worst times and provided me with my best memories.

I have written and mailed letters to Jimmy, Adam and Steph. I have so much work to do, and am so optimistic that I might be able to ... accomplish something. Find some heart. Forge, or recognize or admire the bond that I have created with every person who has walked into my life and changed me somehow.

I am writing to my brother tonight. And then I'm going to mark papers for a few hours until I am truly too tired to stay awake. Happy New Year, everyone.

Editor's Note: The original post was written at 11:30 pm, and it's now 4:47 am. Can someone please tell me to go to sleep?

Moments when I wish I had a camera

I was driving my mom to the airport today, and along Marine Drive, saw a bonafide street sign that bore the following message: "Welcome to Vancouver: A Nuclear Weapons Free City".
I just found that interesting. I had to drive by on the way back to make sure I read it correctly. Well, I guess I can sleep safely tonight, with that knowledge.

I have so much on my mind, and nothing to say. I think I'm going to go for a run down by the water to clear my head. I get the sense that I'm running away from something though, but I can't put my finger on what.

I've got some good new songs spinning in my cd player today:
Jet - Look at What You've Done
The Tragically Hip - Gus
Snow Patrol - Run
Boy - Same Old Song (editor's note: the song isn't even *that* good ... go figure)
Green Day - Boulevard of Broken Dreams remix
Thornley - Beautiful
Collective Soul - Counting the Days (I am SO glad that these guys are still making music)

Inspired by a great conversation I had this morning

Top 5 turn-ons:

1. Music: You could listen to Led Zepplin or Lauren Hill, the Beatles or the Pixies - the point is, a guy with an opinion about music is sexy. If you don't stick to the charts, and care enough about music to find stuff that really moves you (regardless of whether or not MTV thinks it's 'cool'), I'm going be interested in you, and we're probably going to have a lot to talk about. If you are just as comfortable in a jazz bar as you are at a Rage Against the Machine concert - then you've really got my attention.

2. Reading, intellect and general geekiness: There is nothing sexier than a guy who cares about the world around him. Drop the high school facade - being smart is hot and being able to carry on an intelligent conversation is even hotter. I'm attracted, nay, turned on by smart guys who can challenge everything I thought I knew about the world.

3. Let's be superficial for a second: cowboy hats and tan lines are hot. Coming from Calgary (proudly born and raised), there is little that I find sexier than a guy wearing a worn-in cowboy hat. As Alana can probably attest to, that's a no-brainer way to become the world's sexiest man. As an homage to my surfer-wannabe roots, I'm also going to throw in that tan lines are extremely sexy ... watch tans, bathing suit tans, soccer tans - I care not. Go out there and get some sun!

4. Sports and general competition: I love sports - that's not much of a secret. However, even more than I love to play and watch them, I really love to watch a guy play them. I'm partial to soccer - watching someone run, play smart, and do amazing things with a soccer ball is gorgeous. That being said, skiing, ultimate frisbee, and touch football rank high on my list. Watching guys play sports is sexy. Competition is also sexy - making bets, or going head-to-head with a guy (even something dumb like an arm wrestle or a race) is hot, and does count as foreplay.

5. Just make me laugh: Being silly, not taking yourself too seriously, and being able to laugh at yourself and at me are fantastic traits. I love having fun with someone, and it's a huge turn if they want to have fun with me too. Whether it's rollerblading, going to a concert, or just being goofy together - I am attracted to people that make me smile.

Top 5 Turn-offs

1. Nasty nasty habits: Namely, smoking. Sure, some people can get over it, but I think that it's filthy, and seeing someone smoke pretty much negates any/all of the aforementioned turn-ons they might have going for them. I respect my body too much to poison it, and I don't want to be with someone who doesn't feel the same way. Smoker's breath, yellow teeth, dying of lung cancer - these are all turnoffs in my books. Let's throw drug addictions and excessive intoxication into this category too; being sloppy, trashed, or too stoned to function really doesn't make me want to jump someone.

2. Bad manners: If someone that I'm dating doesn't have the decency to say 'please' and 'thank you', or to hold the door open for a little old lady, I'm going to lose interest really quickly. Etiquette is a dying art form, and while I don't claim to be the most polite person in the world, I sincerely believe that everyone deserves to be treated with respect. This also goes for guys that call girls their 'bitches' or 'hoes', and people that think it's okay not to tip when they go to a restaurant: grow up.

3. Facial Hair: This is so shallow, and I have no justifiable reason for including it in my list, other than that I have never been attracted to someone with a beard, moustache, goatee or any other form of facial hair growth. There's nothing appealing about it, although I'm sure some girls find it incredibly sexy.

4. That's right. I'm calling you judgemental. There is nothing worse, to me, than seeing the world from a negative point of view. I spent three years with someone who was never really happy - who didn't get excited at the first snow, didn't feel passionate about anything, didn't believe that the world really was a beautiful place. Sometimes, all you need is love, and if a guy can't at least accept that I'm an idealist and want to change the world for the better - then he's not going to keep me interested for long.

5. Electronics, in general. You are in charge of your cell phone - it's not in charge of you. Blackberries, camera phones, portable DVD players, ipods (which, actually, I think are pretty fantastic) ... guys whose lives are controlled by their gadgets don't fly with me. Why? In part, because I think it reflects a bigger problem of materialism, and in part because I don't think that I should have to compete with a cell phone for someone's attention. And in addition - do we really NEED all this stuff? Whatever happened to having an answering machine?

and we'll all float on anyway

I am obsessed with the song float on by Modest Mouse in the most unhealthy of ways. It came on while I was shopping in a jewelry store today, and I started to rock out, and I do mean ROCK OUT. I had my eyes closed, was singing, shaking my arms awkwardly, I even laid down a decent beat on the air drums. I got a "look" from a girl who was clearly not a day older than 13 (and should she really be wearing clothes like that?), and I grinned back, stupidly. I don't even embarass myself anymore, and that's probably a bad sign. Man, that song messes me up like it's some sort of drug and lately I can't get enought of it.

I've been feeling really motivated lately. REALLY motivated. We're talking ambitious beyond my usual go-get-'em attitude that I try to pull off, and I think it has something to do with the fact that I've been sleeping on a regular schedule (well, regular for me at least). I want to get stuff done during the day and I'm excited to do it. This is very new for me - usually I want to sleep during the day. When I think about it, I can't imagine how much my body must hate me right now, for what I've put it through over the last four years. I'm sorry body - we're almost done. And then we can go back to playing soccer, sleeping and eating raw veggies after school, just like the good old days.

I don't feel very thoughtful tonight, in case you couldn't tell - this is about the most bland blog I've ever written (even by my standards, and let me reiterate that I bore myself to tears). I had a fantastic conversation with a very sleepy-and-therefore-affectionate Steve before he passed out for the night (god bless the time change), and he put my entire day into perspective. I feel, for once, completely content. I can't describe how warm my whole heart feels, like I'm about to burst from something. I feel real and genuine and alive and radiant and excited about tomorrow, and the tomorrows after that. I feel interesting - and find him equally fascinating. Talk about drugs - one Stephen Johns is making me fly. Tonight, I don't want to think, don't want to talk and don't have anything interesting to say - I am content just to be thinking about him.

I know. Call me whipped. Call me love-sick. Call me crazy...but you can't argue that I'm damn happy too.

(blog fades out, as Float On swells to a booming crescendo .... alright/already/we'll all float on/alright/don't worry/we'll all float on...)

You've already won me over, in spite of me

There are a couple of things in the world that make me really happy.

1. Nothing in my life so far compares to the feeling that I get every time I drive north on Granville Street in the late afternoon, pass over the hill around 16th ave, and see the sun setting against downtown, as this pictures manages to capture from almost exactly the same place I drove by:




It was such a clear, beautiful day out today - 13 degrees - and you could see forever. The ocean seemed even more expansive than usual. This made me very happy.

2. Waking up after a fantastic sleep, circa noon, and finding my favorite person online. That makes me really happy. Having a great conversation with him is just an added bonus - I just love the rush of knowing that he's there.

3. In case you don't know me, I live and breath for music, and it gets worse every day. There is NOTHING that I love more, or that makes me happier, than to get into my mom's car, put in my favorite tunes, and drive for hours. I hate that no matter where I am, there's always someone telling me to turn it down - my parents, my housemates, even the people who live next door. But when I'm in my car, my music can be so loud that it fills me completly ... god, does that make me happy. It doesn't hurt that my favorite radio station today played a killer string of songs ...
Paradise City / GNR
I Love Rock and Roll / Joan Jett
Satisfaction / the Stones
Vertigo/ U2
Waterloo Sunset / the Kinks

So I was singing, drumming on the wheel, shifting gears and basically just driving like a prostar and smiling my face off. And to top it all off, the good boys at the Fox 99.6 decided to change it up, and with an unprecedented decision, played an Alanis classic - Head over Feet.

I don't know about you, but I know every word of that song, every little Alanis grunt and sigh. And given the recent events in my life, I put this baby on full blast, and sang along. There was nothing else to do. And I KNOW it's sappy, and I KNOW it's cheezy ... but it also makes me feel pretty great inside.

4. I thought that the goodness in my day couldn't get any better, but no - I was wrong. I got home, and had an email waiting from my favorite prof, signed "Love Judy". Now, Judy could just be in a good mood. Judy could be mistaking me for someone else. Frankly, it doesn't matter - knowing that your prof, (who I IDOLIZE by the way) thinks enough of you to sign her email "love"? That was the icing on the proverbial good day cake.

Flip me over - I'm done :)

I've walked for miles, my feet are hurtin'

I think I'm having a panic attack. I'm serious. There is no other reason that I would write two entries in one night, if I wasn't desperate panicking, grasping for something to hold on to. Doing research on grad school was not a good idea tonight - I feel as though I would be better off being blissfully ignorant, and thus un-educated. And thus unemployed. I want to die. My chest is tight, and I'm having a hard time breathing. You know why? Take a look at the cold, hard facts:

1. I'm not going to get in anywhere. That goes without saying. Applications to Toronto, Guelph, Alberta, UBC and Calgary seem futile to me. How did I go, in four short years, from having all of the potential in the world, to being left with no options? Wasn't I smart at one point in my life?

2. Even if I do get in, there is NO WAY that I can write 80-100 pages on anything. I just don't have it in me - I am terrified of one day waking up and realizing that there are some things out there that I am incapable of doing - that the world is not my oyster. Sometimes it's better to have a dream, and believe that it could come true, than to fruitlessly pursue it. In addition - there is no way that I'll find a place to live. And, to be realistic - there's really no way that I can afford it.

3. Why don't I have a future? Is this normal? Why is my brother, not even 20 years old, and the self-proclaimed 'dumb one', making 50 grand a year, while I struggle to even understand why I was put on this earth?

I honestly don't think I'll be able to sleep tonight. I have so many questions, and no answers. All I know is that I'm a good person, I'm a good student, and I really deserve this chance ... it's just a matter of finding people who believe in me.

Nothing is resolved... But for what it's worth - thanks for listening.

Little by Little

I'm listening to Oasis right now ...however for lack of a speaker system on my dad's computer, I'm listening to them by memory. That may or may not be geeky. It probably is, right? But maybe it's geeky in a Pinkerton kind of way ... not in a Star Trek way, if you get what I'm saying. Regardless, however, it's specific. I don't just have the famous chords of Wonderwall floating through my head, over and over... nope. I've got a song running. You interested? Sing along with me:

We the people fight for our existence
We don’t claim to be perfect but we’re free
We dream our dreams alone with no resistance
Faded like the stars we wish to be

It's Little by Little, granted not their biggest success, but one line jumps out at my as it cycles through. Check this out for relevance, 'cause it's pretty much screaming to me right now:

True perfection has to be imperfect
I know that that sounds foolish but it’s true
The day has come
and girl you’ll have to accept it ...

Okay, it keeps going. But the point is - it's interesting. It's like Liam and Noel (bless their angsty little hearts) teamed up to kick some sense into me. I've got to stop resisting the fact that I can't make everything perfect. It's been my ultimate experiment, and it's failed.

I need to stop for a second here. This discussion is quickly moving in to territory that concerns my dad, and I don't know if I'm strong enough to go there tonight, even if I know it's inevitable that it all comes out eventually. I'm not that girl. I'm not like that. I don't complain. Please don't let me be like that.

What the song initially reminded me of, of course, was Steve. The only thing that I know about myself is that I am imperfect. And, on it's own, that's okay. To accept that this imperfection could actually make me the perfect person for someone? ... now that's interesting. And valid. And scary. Would things stop being scary for me, do you think, if I didn't think about them so much?

I have to stop talking about myself in this blog. I find myself to be a boring topic.

I saw Lemony Snicket today ... was struck by the last lines of the movie: "At times the world may seem like an unfriendly and sinister place, but believe us when we say that there is much more good in it than bad... and what may seem like a series of unfortunate events might, in fact, be the first steps of a journey."

I'd like to think that my journey is just beginning.

Well kids, I've rambled enough. Somehow, I never feel as though I get this blog thing quite right. Maybe I've spent too much time comparing myself to Steve, or Steph, or Jamie (shout outs!) and not enough time being NORMAL and not caring about stuff like that for once. Note to self - stop thinking.

I feel better already.

On a long winter's nap

I turned on the radio, and set it softy to the station playing christmas carols. I put on my new red roots touque, and my new red roots scarf. I grabbed a blanket. And then I feel asleep on the big brown couch, in front of the fire.

I feel amazing. Christmas doesn't get any better than that, does it?

letter #6: to myself

B,

Late at night, and everything becomes unclear, and yet seems brilliantly transparent to me at the same time. I have caught myself today several times looking in the mirror, trying to identify where within the topography of nose and eyelids and cheeks and lips I can find myself. Does my face contain me, or is it just a mess of cells and nerves and skin? That sense of distinction that I felt between mind and body was unnerving. I looked at my mom this morning and realized that I was not attached to her - she was an entirely different person than I was. I felt lonely.

Maybe mirrors are dangerous. I find myself indulging in them the same way I indulge in music - selfishly, and recklessly. Music feels reflexive to me - it absorbs me, and gives me something in return. I easily believe that in some way, I can see myself in other people's words, and riffs, and hooks - that I will understand me by listening to them. Maybe this mad search for 'new' music that I have been on lately has been a search for myself.

But I'm not making much sense, am I?

I used to imagine that I was broken, and unfixable, but now I know that from the cracks of the sidewalk, beautiful things can grow. And you know me, I'm always looking for beauty, beauty, beauty. So I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm making it on my own, and that maybe it's not such a bad thing to believe in my own potential.

Life keeps changing, and there's not a lot that I can make sense of. If you could tell me so, I'd like to think that you would be proud of me. I guess what I'm saying is that I'd like to think that I would be proud of myself, if I could stop thinking and figure everything out... Soccer was good for me in so many ways - mainly, I know, because I figured it all out on the field. Life, and love, and war and pain - you could feel anything with the ball at your feet, and I craved the challenge of understanding it.

I'm trying to fucking hard to be sincere, and it's killing me. I guess I'll leave it at this. The imperfect love letter to myself, that I probably should have written 10 years ago. Here's my message: I like you. and I'm trying so hard, I really am, just to be you. Uh ... me. Just to be me.

Memorable Christmas Moments

Mom: I made the soup from scratch
Regan: Let's go through to garbage to see if she's telling the truth.

Regan: Did Waldo eat an entire plate of butter?
Mom: Look at the teeth marks!

Regan: If I had a band, I would call it the flaming poodles.

Mom: Regan, your stocking is bigger because I love you more.
Regan: I know.
Mom: You've always been my favourite, darling.

Baba: (lying comatose on the couch singing christmas carols to herself)

Regan: 12 hours of the burning log...
Gido: You see? The burning log. I don't get the burning log anymore. I have satellite.

Gido: I get 12 free channels of pay per view. But your Baba and I haven't watched any movies. They're all ... adult. I can't even say the names of some of those shows.
Mom: One day we're all going to come over and watch porn with you, dad.

Bri: Let's give thanks.
Mom: It's not thanksgiving, Brianna.

Gido: (wrapping his new scarf around his head). I am an arafat - let's bomb America!

Bri: (inspecting new suitcase, noticing a piece of fabric called the 'roots tear test") - look, it's got a rip test!
Regan: Yes, but can it be punctured?
Bri (puncturing fabric) - yes, yes it can.
Regan: do you think we could rip it from the puncture hole now?
(meanwhile, my mom cowers as we proceed to destroy my new luggage)

And that was just christmas eve. We just finished opening presents; my grandparents and brother teamed up to buy me new roots luggage, and naturally, I cried. I also got a Victoria's Secret purse from my Auntie Daria, which I can't wait to fill with all my junk.

And with that - a merry christmas to all, and to all a good night :)

On learning how to love

I don't know where the idea started. I've been tossing it around in my head for a few days, testing it out. I feel as though I was inspired, in part, by a friend who writes love letters to strangers, and inspired, in part, by an awareness that our society not only neglegts, but encourages us to negate our 'feelings' in favour of logic and rationality. I have decided to undertake a project. I'm going to start writing love letters. More specifically, I want to use hand-written notes to start telling people how I feel about them.

I am going to write letters to people that I love, people that I have loved, people that I wanted to love, but never got to know. People who loved me. I'm going to write to my family members, my old teachers, my housemates, my friends. Letters to co-workers and bosses. Letters to gaels, and to OCs. Letters to people that I have known my entire life, and letters to people that I want to get to know more. Letters to say "thank you", to say "I love you", to say "I miss you", to say "you changed me". I'm going to write to the woman at Tim Hortons who lets me study there all night, and the security guard at the grocery store, who polices the parking lot.

By the end of this project, I want to have written 100 letters. I will probably write more. I will probably write to some people more than once (but I'll try not to count that).

I think about how many people have shaped me, and made me the person that I am. I feel as though I owe something to each one of them, and to myself, to say "I appreciate you". Or even - "I notice you" .... or "I understand you". Maybe the most important one of all - "thank you for understanding me". I think that there are moments between people that are so stunningly beautiful, and I want to find them. I can't wait to start

First Adventures in Photo Blogging

Well, I tried my best. Below are the most random pictures I could have picked from my trip to San Francisco, but in an odd way, they sum everything up perfectly. I'm feeling very musical lately - I'm itching for a new sound, and might make the trip downtown tomorrow to the Virgin Megastore to see if I can discover, or rediscover perhaps, something to quench my thirst. I've been telling people for three weeks that I need rock and roll, however A) no one listens to me anyway, and B) I still haven't gotten my fill of it, even after listening to my dad's entire library of classic rock music (which, to be honest, doesn't amount to much). So off to the music store I go.

Found a stocking today (well, just now), sitting behind the couch. Feel as though my passive agressive banter with God via my blog this morning may have been successful. I feel pretty bad about being a whiney brat.

pier 39 candy store

pier 39 candy store
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

sea lions at fisherman's wharf

sea lions at fisherman's wharf
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

me and alcatraz

me and alcatraz
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

nicole at the pier

nicole at the pier
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

me, riding a cable car down powell street

SanFrancisco 036
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

saks, christmas, and a palm tree

SanFrancisco 025
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

nicole and me, in front of the christmas tree

SanFrancisco 010
Originally uploaded by heybreezy.

On being an adult

I'm not a greedy person. I have a good heart. And above my personal attributes, I am adult enough to know that there isn't any money for christmas.

But we don't have a tree. There aren't presents to open. There are no stockings.

And I guess, no matter how selfless I try to be, and no matter how much I understand and support my parents ... it's still nice to wake up to a stocking on christmas morning.

Even Better Than the Real Thing

I had a really amazing day. It feels good just to say that, to make it tangible. Sometimes, everything goes right in the world, and for no explicable or even well-deserved reason, I am bestowed with complete happiness. I just finished packing, changed into my sweatshirt and gym shorts, and feel such a sense of contentment just to be. I don't know if that makes sense. I vaguely recall Michelle, standing in the vogt studio, and teaching us - nervous second year acting students, as we were - to let go of everything but the immediacy of the present tense. That's where I am right now - crossed-legged in front of a computer in California, content to be me.

I don't think that N understands me (or even wants to, for that matter). And that's okay. We drove downtown today. As we crossed the bridge into the city, I was laughing and sticking my hands out the window, trying to catch some of the warm, salty air. I shrieked as we drove up the hills, enjoying the feeling of being held down in my seat, wondering if the car could roll backwards the way it came. I marvelled at Saks Fifth Ave and Tiffany's, hung from the side of the cable car (as I've seen done in the movies, and yes - it is just as satisfying as it looks), and gleefully ran from store to store. Life, in general, gives me a lot to be happy about, and today, in particular, was a day that just seemed perfect to me. That's the most I can say about my day without sounding like I'm gushing. I really love this city. I love the windy roads. I love the palm trees. I love the ocean ... the sand ... the surfing ...

Why does my life keep getting better and better? I don't feel as though I deserve this. I have been given SO MANY things to be thankful for ... am I ungrateful? It's hard to deal with happiness - I think intuitively we always search for the dark clouds underneath our silver linings.

I digress. I don't have any answers to the amazing state of my life right now, except that as soon as I let myself believe that there is someone who cares about me, everything started to look rosier and rosier. Not every fight is worth fighting, I am quickly learning. Letting myself be me ... and not constantly doubting every word that is coming out of my mouth ... okay, well I'm working on that. But the truth is, the friends and love that is coming into my life right now have made me a better person than I was two weeks ago. Getting closer to Adam, Stuart, Jaxx (not to mention Steve)- I feel like I have places and people that I belong to. I feel at home. My heart is literally singing.

For those of you who claim that U2 hasn't made any songs that are worthy of inclusion on a make-out CD, I give you exhibit A: possibly the sexiest song known to man, and sung by Bono to a woman right before he's about to make love to her. Twist my arm.

"Even Better Than The Real Thing"
Give me one more chance
And you'll be satisfied
Give me two more chances
You won't be denied

Well my heart is where it's always been
My head is somewhere in between
Give me one more chance
Let me be your lover tonight(Check it out)

You're the real thing
Yeah the real thing
You're the real thing
Even better than the real thing

Child... Give me one last chance
And I'm gonna make you sing
Give me half a chance
To ride on the waves that you bring

You're honey child to a swarm of bees
Gonna blow right through you like a breeze
Give me one last dance
We'll slide down the surface of things

You're the real thing
Yeah the real thing
You're the real thing
Even better than the real thing

Child...We're free to fly the crimson sky
The sun won't melt our wings tonight
Oh now...here she comes

Take me higher
Take me higher
You take me higher
You take me higher

You're the real thing
Yeah the real thing
You're the real thing
Even better than the real thing
Even better than the real thing
Even better than the real thing

Remind me to swoon, at this point. And to pick up the latest issue of Rolling Stone with U2 on the cover.

Finding San Francisco

Kate Winslet: What's it like, Neverland?
Johnny Depp: One day, I'll take you there.

After watching Finding Neverland with Nicole a few hours ago (for its commentary on the magic of the theatre, I give it two enthusiastic thumbs up. For its lack of kissing, I remain frustrated) But I digress. What I wanted to say is that I've come to the conclusion that California may be my Neverland. While I'm here I never worry about my life at home, I never have to wear a coat, I never lose my awe at the grandeur, I never have to cook, I never get chided for cheering for the 49ers and I never come home from the mall with any money left.

I do however, have a whirlwind adventure. I feel like I'm 5 again, and in awe of everything. This morning, as I was eating my Cocoa Krispies and flipping through the newspaper, reading the extensive section on the sorrows of SF's sorry excuse for a football team, I was constantly pointing out prices in the flyers, "You guys - look at how cheap this is!" I'm sure Nicole must be close to frustration by my constant references to Canada. But we're so different! It's worth pointing out. I'm nothing if not observant.

Today, Nic and I braved the last weekend shopping day before Christmas, and hit the malls. Not only did I pick up matching red sweatshirts for my sisters and a killer lotion/bath gel/bubble bath combo for my mom (cliche, but cliche for a reason) I am now the proud new owner of a pair of charcoal gray Puma runners. I actually turned the reading light on in the car so that I could admire my own feet. I don't think I could live here, because I would become materialistic SO QUICKLY ... it's easy to get sucked into.

I have a lot I really need to talk about, but for lack of time on the computer, I'm just going to make a random list and try to get it all out. Maybe I'll come back to it, maybe I won't.

1. I really want to talk about my conversation today with Jennifer at some point - about finding my passion, radiance, following my heart - how inspired I was after only two hours with her.
2. Aiden vs. Mr. Big (the ultimate dilemma)
3. The differences I've discovered between Canada and the US
4. Being in Pac Sun today, and feeling like I was finally home ... dudes everywhere! :) Being in William Sonoma/Crate and Barrel today, and rediscovering my dream of being a perfect '50's domestic goddess.
5. Steve. Always thinking about Steve. I have so much to say, and never enough words to use. The phrase, "do you promise you won't judge me?" continues to surface in my mind as he learns more and more about me, and I get more and more scared that he's going to find the 'real' me and that'll be it. Maybe this rant will becomes more than 'point 5' - as it deserves to be. Maybe this means more to me than I'm even willing to admit to myself. Why do I feel so much ambiguity? When I was out today, scooting around in my pumas and jean jacket, I felt like a million bucks, so why do I blush when he even looks in my direction? I wish that I knew everything ... not in the way that Ken Jennings does, but knew everything about love. I know nothing about love. Maybe that's why I'm so fascinated with it. I never really had a good example, or prototype of 'love' when I was growing up, and yet despite my parents shortcomings in their own romantic lives, I believe so deeply in my heart that it's possible. Because I have such a capacity to feel it, y'know? I have and can love so deeply ... how is it, then, not possible? My point exactly. I just wish that I knew about love, instead of blindly believed in it's existence somewhere in the world. And why, even though there isn't a cloud in the sky of my present relationship, am I so scared?

I have a few days left here, and there's a few things that I really want to do. I want to go to Pier 39, ride a street car, climb up the mountain next to the bridge, and find the perfect present for my brother. And maybe, just maybe ... nah, it's too much to hope for. I'm just going to 'go with the flow', taking a page from 'Sex in the City', and enjoy my time in this amazing city :)

California here we come / Right back where we started from

Could somebody please please enlighten me. I know that my calls for help are usually whiney and don't justify a response, but I've questions, and I need answers. About... well, about one man in particular, who I actually (I really shouldn't admit this) enjoy not being able to figure out ... but men in general. Why are they so manly? Why do they always have to be right? Why do their feet smell? Why are they better drivers? Well, the sole exception to that being my brother, who I had to beg to stop weaving in and out of rush-hour traffic on 12th ave today.

What defines a normal relationship? I know that I'm asking a lot of questions, but bear with me - I've got direction on this one. See if you can follow me, 'cause this is my train of thought on the relationship game: boy meets girl, boy asks girl out on date, boy and girl hold hands, boy and girl kiss goodnight, some sort of intelligible relationship follows. You see the odd variation on the theme, kind of like "Sleepless in Seattle" versus "You've Got Mail", but the formula is still the same. You know why? Because it works. Because courtship behaviour is so established in the human genome that even the San Francisco 49ers couldn't mess it up. Why, and HOW, therefore, did I get into this delicious situation that I find myself in?

Boy meets girl, girl can't decide of she loves or hates boy. Boy and girl trade thoughts on music. Boy ignores girl. Girl ignores boy. Both boy and girl ignore feelings. Third party brings reluctant boy and girl to admit that they *might* be falling insane for eachother. Boy and girl trade punches, but would rather be swapping spit. Boy surprises girl by being the most tender and compassionate human being she's ever met. Girl continues to fight. Boy continues to fight, and we find ourselves in the present tense.

I don't really have anything to say about all of this - just my observations, which I have yet to collect or make any sense of. Just like boys in general, I guess. Maybe something this real was meant to remain a mystery?

I watched Raising Helen tonight with my sisters, and then set Hann up with an msn account, which was on ALL accounts, not the brightest idea. Her favorite thing to do is to send me all of the emoticons at once; I end up receiving a very jumbled grounp of emotions, which she follows with a hearty msn belly-laugh: "HAHAHAHA". Of course, the entire emoticon/hyterical laughter cycle takes 15 minutes, while I wait patiently as "Hannah is typing a message".
Maybe I should have waited until she was 9?

I'm going to bed. San Francisco tomorrow, with a touchdown just in time to plant myself at the airport bar and watch the game.

Onward and Upward

So in grade 12, I sold all of my CDs - more than 200 of them, although I'm sure I've got an exact count somewhere. That is definitely another story for another day - the darkest day in my high school career. But I've decided, 4 years later, that it's time to start building up my collection again. I almost feel as though I spent 10 years writing an essay, only to have the computer freeze, and me have to start all over again. I've mourned. I've resisted the pain of buying new cds (it's like replacing a child that died!), but I think it's time to rebuild and move on. So - here's my first conquests. Hopefully I'll come back and edit this list as I buy them ... most (I'd say 80%) are replacements, and the rest are newly acquired, and welcome additions :)

Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness / Smashing Pumpkins
Siamese Dream / Smashing Pumpkins
Revolver / The Beatles
White Album / The Beatles
Live at the BBC / The Beatles
Sailor / Steve Miller Band
Born in the U.S.A. / Bruce Springsteen
Achtung Baby / U2
Best of 1990-2000 / U2
The Joshua Tree / U2
What’s the Story (Morning Glory)? / Oasis
Definitely Maybe / Oasis
Greatest Hits / Electric Light Orchestra
Chutes too Narrow / The Shins
Throwing Copper / Live
Gimme Five / Killjoys
Good News for People Who Love Bad News / Modest Mouse
Urban Hymns / The Verve
Soup / Blind Melon
Foo Fighters / Foo Fighters
The Colour and the Shape / Foo Fighters
Runaway Train / Soul Asylum
Little Earthquakes / Tori Amos
Live on Two Legs / Pearl Jam
No Code / Pearl Jam
Parklife / Blur
I Should Coco / Supergrass
White Pony / Deftones
Evol / Sonic Youth
Goo / Sonic Youth
In the Aeroplane over the Sea / Neutral Milk Honey
Let it Bleed / Rolling Stones
Shake Your Money Maker / The Black Crowes
Wildflowers / Tom Petty
Tom Petty and the Heartbreakers - Greatest Hits / Tom Petty
Synchronicity / The Police
Arthur (or the decline and fall of the British empire) / The Kinks
Blood on the Tracks / Bob Dylan
Birth of the Cool / Miles Davis
The Major Works of John Coltrane / John Coltrane
Songs for Distingue Lovers / Billie Holiday

Guess I'll go eat worms

This morning, I awoke to find not one, but two toy poodles trying to lick my face. My mom's friend had dropped off her seven-pounds-of-wonderful named Toby while she went grocery shopping, and both dogs decided to greet me by hosting a ceremonial romp on my bed. At one point, I realized that I wasn't going to be able to go back to sleep, and so I attempted to open my eyes and greet the little fellow. Eyes open, I prop myself up on my elbows, and it hit me like a bus.

I'm feeling really sick.

The worst part is that I don't feel "under-the-weather" sick, but "shoot-me-it's-a-sinus-infection" sick. I blame Steve. I blame God. I blame all of the people in airports who don't have the decency to wash their hands. Not only is my trip down to San Francisco now in immediate jeopardy (you can't fly with a sinus infection), but my chance at a relaxing and enjoyable week is too. My mom is taking me to the walk-in clinic for some antibiotics, and for once, I'm not going to make any comments about my hatred for medication - I need this stuff. I have my "Johnson kids portrait" this afternoon, and since I feel like a trainwreck, I wouldn't be surprised if I looked like one too.

Only this time, it wasn't a boy who trainwrecked me ;)

50 facts about Bri

In honour of ... well, in honour of my being completely self-absorbed, I've written a list of 50 little-known facts about myself, which may or may not amuse anyone but me.

1. I have owned a car – a 1982 Toyota Tercel named Tarzan, who was silver, with blue vinyl seats, and a horrible system. He was the only true love I’ll ever know. (More Tarzan stories to come in a later blog)

2. I’ve lived in 7 different houses with my mom, 9 different houses with my dad, and 4 houses on my own, and all in all have lived in 5 Canadian cities.

3. My left eye is smaller than my right eye. It’s especially noticeable when I smile.

4. All of my grandparents are still alive

5. I can barely hold a tune, but I really like to sing when I’m driving or in the shower. I’d like to think that no one can hear me.

6. I’m 5’4 and three-quarters tall. I don’t know how I feel about that.

7. I don’t know how to walk in high heels, which I guess doesn’t make me very much of a lady. I’ve never owned a pair of hooker boots, which I guess doesn’t make me much of a female Queen’s student who frequents Stages.

8. I always put four cups of water in when I am making frozen juice instead of three. In a way, I feel like I’m cheating the system

9. My favorite subject when I was in school was math. Art and biology tie for a close second.

10. I started playing soccer when I was six. I was the worst player on my team, but I’d like to think that I had the most heart J

11. I’ve ridden in an ambulance only once that I can remember. I was checked into the boards during a soccer game and blacked out.

12. I don’t like cats (sorry cats)

13. I’ve always wanted to be a mom. I’ve had baby fever since I was born. I really want to have a big family.

14. I love the west coast - BC, Washington, Oregon, California. I love being able to see the ocean. This is very interesting to me because my astrological sign is Cancer, and astrologers believe that crabs feel the happiest when they’re by the water.

15. I have a decent hand at painting, drawing and sketching. I wouldn’t say that my talents are amazing, but it’s something that I enjoy.

16. If my house was burning down and I could only save one item, I’d take my junior high diary – I always need to know how much I’ve grown. I’ve kept a diary since I was old enough to write.

17. Things I’ve never done: smoked (cigarettes or weed), shoplifted, threw a glass of water in someone’s face, killed an animal (other than a spider), been overseas, or seen a dead body.

18. Things I have done: walked across the golden gate bridge, climbed a mountain, run away from home, sat in the front seat of a roller coaster, witnessed birth (well, most parts of it anyway), had a life-altering conversation with a stranger.

19. The worst pain I have ever experienced occurred when I was 10, and was stung by a jellyfish on my hand.

20. I have experienced love, and from my experiences, have learned that true love is extremely rare and should be cherished.

21. I’ve both had my heart broken, and broken someone’s heart. I’m not sure which side I would rather be on – everyone ends up being hurt no matter what.

22. I’ve always been a night owl. I used to stay up reading long after my mom went to bed. As such, I’m also a huge fan of sleeping in. I was never that kid who woke up at 7am on Christmas morning.

23. I’ve had 8 people in my life who at one point, I considered my best friend. I am in touch with 4 of them, which makes me sort of sad.

24. My first job was working on a construction site, cleaning up water and clearing out debris when I was in grade 9

25. I’ve since worked as a house cleaner, a cashier at a supermarket, a front desk clerk at a hotel, a nanny for two different families, head of Orientation, and a staff member at walk home

26. I taught myself how to play the piano.

27. I’m not very good at cooking – I simply have no clue where to start.

28. I’m scared of snakes and needles – both due to specific childhood incidents

29. I’d rather have an amazing four hour conversation with someone in the corner booth of a jazz bar, than spend my night at a club, dressed up to kill and too drunk to care.

30. I tan easily in the summer.

31. I was published in a book of kids’ poetry in Grade 6. I didn’t find out until I was walking by the bookstore in the mall, and happened to see the book on the shelf.

32. I have arthritis (at such a tender age!)

33. My two favorite sounds are laundry in the dryer and rain falling outside my window.

34. I got the lead in my school play when I was in Kindergarten. I was cast as Rudolph the red nose reindeer, and I cried when my teacher told me because I didn’t want people to look at me.

35. My proudest moment in life was when I gave my valedictorian speech.

36. If I were given 1 wish, I would wish to be beautiful. I think that (sadly), beauty is often more powerful a tool than intellect in business and in life.

37. I would give my life for the Calgary Flames. My love for that hockey team will outshine any other achievement in my life.

38. Some of my aspirations when I grow up are: to be a mom, to become a high school teacher, to open a school for gifted children, to open a theatre school, to run a small bed and breakfast on the west coast, to coach provincial soccer, to have an amazing garden, to be a university professor, to star in a movie. No particular order.

39. If I could have one super power in the world, I would want to be invisible. I like being the observer, and I am fascinated by how people act when they don’t think they’re being watched.

40. I know how to self service a car (everything except tire rotation). I can also change a flat tire. I can hammer, nail, screw, and assemble. I know how to use power tools. I’m self sufficient!

41. I will go to great lengths to avoid feeling vulnerable in any way

42. I have never been outside of North America

43. I feel very small when I watch the sun rise

44. I don’t like the idea of plastic surgery – I think that the process of growing old is beautiful

45. No one has ever thrown me a surprise party. I’m not sure if I would ever want them to – I would probably cry

46. When I was in third grade, I fell off of my bike and cracked my front tooth, which remains cracked to this day.

47. I truly truly believe in fate, good karma and soul mates.

48. If I had to eat one thing for the rest of my life, it would be strawberry-rhubarb pie. With ice cream (but not too much ice cream)

49. It is my life goal to travel to Borneo and meet an orangutan face to face.

50. I still haven’t found what I’m looking for.

There is so much to say. I was preparing for an epic entry tonight, but feel like my fingers are too numb to write ... not physically. That was a bad metaphor. I hate metaphors in general - I'd rather just say what I want to say, but sometimes words just don't cut it. The english language, for all of its supposed merits, isn't very beautiful.

I've been trying to write this entry for the past hour, believe it or not, but have been sidetracked by a music paperchase through amazon.com, a heartfelt email to adam, and a lyrics search for a song that I can't get out of my head. I read a blog of a friend from edmonton's that simply BLEW ME AWAY. I could only aspire to be such a good writer. As it is, I write about meaningless feelings and don't use my words the way I could.

Everything is changing. I am in constant need of stability, but can find nothing to hold on to. Why do we resist it? Why do I, specifically resist it? That's probably why I called adam tonight - I read through a bunch of old emails from second and third year, and saw myself in them somewhere. There are parts of me that I have lost along the way. I might consider that my childhood, but I found something comforting in reading our conversations to myself. I laughed out loud at several points, and cried at several points, which is entirely unlike me.

I cried. How dumb is that?

So here's the truth then.

I really miss the certainity. Adam loved me. It wasn't the love that I thought I always wanted from him - it was better. Our emails were peppered with truths and jokes and insults and little bits of insight, and always signed with "I love you so much, but I love kissing my girlfriend more", or "I've been putting up with you for 10 years - I might as well not stop now" ... and that meant something. So I guess I miss having a best friend.

I've got quite a lot friends at queens who will stand the test of time, I know already. But there's something about having a friend who knew you when you were 11, with awkwardly long legs and stringy hair, and all you cared about was soccer, that is incredibly special. Adam knew me when No Fear shirts were cool, and when Beth, Steph and I would sit in the corner of our grade 7 class, ignoring whatever humanities lesson we were supposed to be learning, and whispering about our sleepover that night instead. He was with me at the worst and best points in my life - and I think that there's something to be said for history.

Do you ever think about how significant certain relationships actually are on the person that you end up becoming as an adult? Ultimately, hundreds of people walk in and out of your life over the course of your childhood, but I'm certain that everyone could rattle off 10 friends who actually altered the course of their lives, and changed the core of who they were. I find that amazing. I find coincidence amazing - that we could have done one thing different, and our entire lives would have ended up on a different track.

I think that it being 1:28 in the morning, and the fact that I started this blog at 10:30 at night is an indication that it's time for me to drop out and get some sleep.

Counting my Blessings

Do you ever wonder what you were put on this planet to do?

To me, at times, it seems that we are (as we typically tend to do) basking in our own glory, when we maintain the philosophy that each and every human being was given a special role to fulfill. What makes us so great? Part of me was educated to believe that every rock, tree and creature is simply part of some meaningless, repetitive life cycle, and that I especially am meaningless in the short amount of relative time that I am able to leave my footprints on this earth. So biology taught me that life=life. There is no soul, no depth, no meaning. But that's not good enough. My life, however small and unimportant and inconsequential to the future of this planet it may be, has to be about something. I have this innate need to infuse everything that I experience and every choice that I make with meaning. That may be my tragic flaw, I know, but it's also the only thing that I've got to go on. I really want to believe that everyone has a specific potential that they're meant to fulfill. Whether or not this is related to religion is beyond me ... I mean, no one really knows that, right? I think it has more to do with our inner capacity to emote, understand and contemplate our role in the universe. This potential that we can fulfill comes from deciding what's important to us, and then having the guts to stand up for it. Therefore, the thing that I was put on this earth to do, is to honour that which is most important to me.

Well, that was easy.

The pragmatist in me will now argue that my role in the universe is to leave the world a better place than I found it - even if my presence ultimately only affects a handful of lives. I have the ability to effect change/help people/lead by example/live by my values and morals etc etc.

But the *idealist* that's kicking around somewhere inside of me (and honestly - I'm really not an idealist) really wants to believe that everyone on earth has their other half somewhere, and we're all meant to find each other. "All you need is love", right? So everyone's role in the universe is to be someone else's other half. Our job is to love. I guess I've just been thinking alot in the past few days about how lucky I am to have found so many people that care about me. I love my sisters so deeply that it aches. I found (and managed to hang on to) a best friend who is so unlike me on the outside, and so similar on the inside. I have more people at Queen's that I genuinely love and who genuinely love me than I ever deserved.

I've been counting my blessings.

And Steve? He's the biggest blessing of them all, at this point. How I ever could have ever pleased fate to the point where I deserved and was given such an amazing person in my life is beyond me. And if the 49ers have to suffer the worst season in NFL history, hell - if it meant that Arsenal would be brutally beaten in every game they played in the next year ... I'll take it.

I'm feeling sappy tonight, aren't I?

I'm almost making myself go back and erase everything, but against my better judgment, I'm throwing it up. Maybe I need a reality check :) I'll write a blog about something completely mundane tomorrow, I promise.

B.

The night has come to hold us young

"The thing about dreams is, it's not where they're going, it's about making the decision to get on"
Okay, I'm quoting Tom Hanks. I realize that may lack credibility. But it stuck with me today - that has to mean something, right?

Well, I'm at home ... whatever that means. I guess what I'm trying to say is that I'm at my mom's house. Was dad's house 'home'? No. And I can't really define why not. Three years ago, I would have defined home as the place where I had my own bed to sleep in, and although it's a nice sentiment, I don't have a bedroom at my mom's either. So obviously, the age-old wisdom that taught us, "home is where the heart is" obviously has some merit. Maybe I'm not home here, either. That's a depressing thought, because I'm so constantly aware of the temporary circumstance of living in Kingston, that it's hard to create physical roots there. My room is a resting spot between stages ... I'm using it to get to the next phase of my life. How long will I feel like I'm in transition like this?

I love airports, by the way. I love to travel. I love to share a space with a community (however short lived) who will never share the same space again - hundreds of different people with hundreds of different stories to tell. I could be anyone to them - and I enjoy the idea that I could just as easily be jetsetting across the country to meet up with my movie star boyfriend as I could be paying the obligatory family christmas visit. It feels exotic. I often wonder as people walk in and out of my life, what their stories are. What's important to them. What they're thinking and feeling and desiring. Who they love. Who loves them. There's so much humanity in an airport - it's a micro-world that I would be content to drift within for days at a time. Some people find airports lonely, because everyone is going somewhere, or saying goodbye to someone, but I prefer the 'we're all in this together' attitude. Think about Dawson's Creek. In season 6, Pacey and Joey are unwittingly locked into a Wal-Mart (or similar mega-store) together overnight, forcing them to share their deepest secrets, and thus, fall madly in love with one another (or at least finally recognize what we all knew from the end of season five). Call me an idealist, but I think that the most magical things can happen when people are thrust together in unusual situations.

Okay, before I go, I think it's worth mentioning that my non-boyfriend and non-relationship have progressed well beyond the point where either of us could be kidding about the way we're feeling, and the words 'official' may-or-may-not have come up in conversation tonight. I'm going to keep that one to myself for now, just because it's too amazing ... just because I'm flying too high to make any sort of intelligent comments about it. My weekend in toronto was a lot more amazing than I could have anticipated it to be - from the first time I saw him walk out of the general shadows outside of the royal york and kiss me, to the blunt and uninspiring (but oddly romantic way) he presented me with two of the best gifts I could imagine ... to the agony (do I mean pleasure?) of not kissing ... playing a sick game of hard-to-get with eachother, prolonging the inevitable dive into absolute bliss ... to watching my first ep's of seinfeld (I know ... don't jump on my back!) ... to rocking out and relaxing with his friends ... I don't know if writing about it is really going to do it justice. I'm going to unpack, have some toast, sleep in ... just exist in this world here in Vancouver, and enjoy spending time with my mom. I'm still exhausted from the physical abuse I put myself through in the last two weeks of class, but I'm excited to work out tomorrow, have a long swim, and start to get my wrecked-and-loving-it self back into top form :P

I never kiss and tell

It blows my mind that I remember when Jessica was born ... that I changed her diaper, and read stories to her, and marvelled when she learned how to laugh, and painted her face for halloween when she was toddling around Port Moody dressed as a fairy ballerina ... with the tu-tu on her head. I am SO AMAZED that this little person that I remember is able to call me and have an entirely intelligent phone conversation with me. That sounds so strange, but I can't believe that we grow up to be coherent, intelligible adults. Even my little sister. I am so proud of her ... not for the phone conversation, but just in general. My heart bursts for her and Hannah, and I feel so sad that I'm not around to watch them grow up, and share in all of their milestones with them. I told Jessi that I'd come and see her shows this year - seeing that kid onstage is like looking in a mirror, 'cause we're growing up to be remarkably similar. I can't wait to get home this weekend, put on my jammies and have a heart to heart with my sister, who is on the verge of becoming a young woman. It makes me feel old ... but in a good way. She's grown, and I've grown too.

Steve ... (I said his name!) is a masterpiece. I have a feeling that tomorrow is going to consist of a stress-filled and exhausting day, followed by a magical evening. I can't wait to see him. I can't wait to kiss him (okay, okay - I'm blushing!). Most of all? I can't wait for this to get better and better. I'm so surrounded by it, and I've got nothing but amazing things to look forward to in the next month - home, sleep, good food, working out with my mom, seeing my sisters, being in Vancouver, seeing Adam, and falling more and more for the most incredible specimen of a human being that I have ever come across.

I just need to finish my essay. Did I mention that? I'm working on it - I've got 1200 words left ... so I'm pretty much 1/3 done. It's going to be okay! I just can't wait to get off the bus, and see him smiling at me ... I'll be a disaster, but in a good way. In the best way.

Back to the paper, as much as I hate it. It's one step closer to getting out of here, and seeing S.

Preparing for Battle

itunes? check
energetic yet not overwhelming playlist? check
headphones (don't want to wake up the housemates)? check
toast with peanut butter? check
amazing phone conversation with object of affection? check
essay outline? check
comfy sweats? check
space heater? check

motivation? ....
anybody?
I've got nothing.

I guess all that's left for me to do is sit down and write this baby out...

Snow White Boomers

My title, you ask? Just a shout-out to the best Christmas song I've ever heard. Year after year, the Top40 DJ's reluctantly dust off this classic for another spin on the radio, and year after year, I find myself in traffic, tapping my fingers on the side of the steering wheel, and occasionally letting loose with an off-pitched, "six white boomers, snow white boomers!"

No, it's okay. I am legitimately obseessed with being Australian. Not that I am. At all. I'm probably one of the most Canadian girls you'll find. Driving in the snow? Bring it on. Wear a touque all winter long (even to sleep, this morning when I passed out on my bed using my coat as a blanket because I was actually too tired to get under the covers)? That's a no brainer. Snowsuit under my halloween costume as a kid? Yeehaw!

I don't remember what my point is. Oh yeah - Australia. The boomers. So what I was thinking was that clearly I was born in the wrong country if my favorite Christmas song is Aussie. Okay - reality check. (*taking a deep breath, and then almost choking on my Lucky Charms when I notice that my grandfather has added me to his msn. Does anyone else find that strange?) The question is: Am I seriously considering going to Australia for grad school (a journey of self-enlightenment and year-round oceanic inspiration), or am I a complete chicken? I think the jury's out on that one. I think I'm a chicken. I don't have the money to do anything with my life. And I don't have the balls to leave the people that I care about. I already did it once, and it was ... I don't even have words. Let's revisit, shall we?

Sitting in the Calgary airport at 11:00pm on a Sunday night in early September 2001. My boxes have already been shipped ahead of me to Kingston, and I have a small overnight bag, a package of Twizzlers, my journal and my best friend with me. This was a week-and-a-half or so pre-9/11, so Adam had been issued a gate pass, and we were sitting silently side-by-side in the green plastic airport chairs that weren't meant for such epic goodbyes. I remember him holding my hand, twisting and intertwining our fingers as if we could stop the clock from chugging away towards midnight. I don't remember what we talked about - if we talked. I don't remember the last time I turned around to see if he was still looking at me through the window. The plane was empty, and I slumped into a window seat, and sat staring at his small figure in the terminal. We took off, and I pulled out my diary and started writing, and at some point about 15 minutes into the flight, it hit me, and I lost it. It wasn't a painful, panicked cry - it was, however, the saddest moment of my life. I felt like my heart was gone. Adam later told me that has he was driving home, he pulled over on the side of the highway and cried. This surprised me - the only other time I had ever seen him cry was in grade 7 when he tripped over a chain on the playground by Beth's house and face-planted into the gravel. He didn't cry when Lexie broke up with him, or when his parents split up. But that night, I was somewhere over Saskatchewan, and he was on the side of the Deer Foot Trail, and we were both letting go of a friendship that had already spanned a decade.

'Cause nothing's the same, y'know?

I want to talk about S. That's really what's on my mind. I want to find some way of describing how real and life-changing this is. I want someone to tell me how not to screw it up.

But I'm so tired. And so excited for Thursday ... I just have to survive the rest of my Art History paper, my 301 paper, some errands, my 301 journal, my 313 evaluation, one walkhome shift, and 5 loads of laundry before I get there :)

Christmas

My mom asked me to write a Christmas list - how long has it been since I've done that? A long time. I don't even know what I feel comfortable asking for. So here goes - my best shot:

DVD - Life as a House
DVD - the Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind
DVD - When Harry Met Sally
DVD - Dawson's Creek Season 4
CD - SP's Mellon Collie (I know, I don't own it - I'm ashamed)
Roots: touque (not fleece) and sweat pants (M)
The Alchemist (by Paulo Coelho)


MY DREAM LIST (if my parents were made of money)
Tickets to see Wicked with S in Toronto
An ipod

That's it :(
Back to work!

The lovers, the dreamers and me

So I'm sitting here, at 1:20 in the morning on a Sunday night (okay, to be fair, it's monday morning), eating a perfectly prepared piece of peanut butter toast (and honestly, how often do I ever make anything that's perfectly prepared?) and thinking about life. As usual. I sort of wish that I had more time to get into this, but I really don't - as soon as the piece of toast is done, I've got to get to work on my art/imitation assignment that's due tomorrow. But after 2 four-hour conversations on consecutive nights with S, I feel like my life is changing and it's all that I can do to keep up. Do I like it? More than I could ever express in words. But at the same time - am I going to be okay? I need to find a balance between being so independant that I won't let anyone love me, and holing up in my bed for 4 hours to talk on the phone with someone who I currently think is so incredible, that I have a hard time believing they're real. I can't really talk about this with anyone, because I think that it would sound redundant and cliche, but I really am not in a place right now where I could handle having my heart broken. I've been through that - it's brutal. I remember calling Kerry-Anne in the middle of the night a few days after Zach broke up with me, and barely being able to get the words out of my mouth that I needed her to come over. And she put some shoes and a coat on, and drove over to my house late at night, and held my head and stroked my hair while I heaved from crying so hard. I thought that my entire being was broken. Was I in love with Zach? At the time, I was. Was it real love? Hard to tell. The point however, is that I'm 6 years older than I was when Zach and I started going out, and things are only going to get harder.

So here's my question of the day, and it doesn't have a clear answer. Should I stop this relationship where it is, knowing that we're going to either marry or destroy eachother, or should I leave that up to fate?

I'll write more later. For now, it's on to Picasso and company.

music that makes my world go round

I thought it was time for a music entry. I'm going to throw down, in no particular order, the albums that absolutely rock my soul, start to finish. I don't think that this entry has a larger purpose, other than to define and shape my musical taste, and allow me to indulge in thinking about the best music on the planet:

THE TOP NINE ALBUMS IN MY UNIVERSE:

1. Smashing Pumpkins - Mellon Collie and the Infinite Sadness
the dreamy, angsty, celestial mid-nineties masterpiece that continues to change me. Billy Corgan proves himself here to be one of the greatest lyricists of the modern era. Listen to 'Stumbeline', 'Tonight Tonight' and 'By Starlight' to understand why I am the way I am.

2. Green Day - Dookie
arguably one of the best, if not the best album of the 1990s. I may go so far as to call it flawless. Every California-punk song that this band spun out became a teenage anthem for surviving in the 90s - this was my grade 7 guide to life. My favorite track? 'Welcome to Paradise'.

3. Oasis - What's the Story (Morning Glory)
Maybe I shouldn't get started on Oasis. This band did for the 90s what the Beatles did for the 50s and 60s - rocked their hearts out with british-infused, soul-baring lyrics and soaring melodies. My favorite album of all time, followed closely by 'Definitely Maybe'. Listen to 'She's Electric'.

4. U2 - Achtung Baby
Although it's not altogether the most powerful set of songs that U2 has put together in their career, the fact that on this album is the world's first exposure to the song 'One', which is so beautiful that it's almost unfair to call it music ... that puts Achtung Baby in a category of it's own.

5. Ben Folds - Rockin' The Suburbs
Ben Folds Five visited Vancouver BC on October 11th, 1994 - and I wasn't there. But that's the closest that I've ever been to this band (now this solo act), who I've been legitimately obsessed with since the beginning of my musical life. Choosing one album was hard, but it's the mature vocals and crazy talent on the piano that really makes Rockin' the Suburbs stand out. Spend some time with 'Fred Jones Part 2' for some of the most heartfelt music I've heard in a while.

6. Live - Throwing Copper
This take no prisoners album won me over in grade 9, when my boyfriend and I declared it to be 'our' cd - simply because we played it over and over again while we were together. Apart from a weak opener, every song on this bass-driven, drum heavy cd rocks my world, and I still have a hard time keeping my composure when I hear the opening notes of 'All Over You'.

7. Killjoys - Gimme Five
This self proclaimed 'post-grunge proto-punk' band came out with Gimme Five in 1996. I was an impressionable 13-year-old who found a home in songs like 'Soaked' and 'Rave and Drool' - Adam and I quickly dubbed Soaked to be 'our song'. It's happy, punchy, don't-take-me-too-seriously attitude struck a chord with my inner idealist, and has always been one of my 'sing out loud' albums, start to finish.

8. Pearl Jam - Ten
There are a lot of Pearl Jam cds that I could put on this list, but Ten was a masterpiece that, much like the more frequently referenced 'Nevermind', completely altered the state of all music that followed. The phenomenal debut album is epic, start to finish, and made the grunge trend accessible to the average Canadian 10 year old (myself) and friends, who would bike to the Circle K for slurpees, and then sit in one of our backyards, crooning to 'Alive'.

9. The Beatles - Abbey Road I don't think that there's anyone out there that can deny the genius of this group. Whether or not Beatle-mania was warranted, the music on this album in particular is completely before it's time - songs like 'Come Together' would still be considered groundbreaking and innovative today.

Other albums that rock my world:
Superknown - Soundgarden
Southern Harmony and Musical Companion - Black Crowes
Purple - Stone Temple Pilots
Little Earthquakes - Tori Amos
Blind Melon - Blind Melon
Jagged Little Pill - Alanis Morrissette
Bloodsexsugarmagic - Red Hot Chili Peppers
Temple of the Dog - Temple of the Dog
Tragic Kingdom - No Doubt
Nevermind - Nirvana
Born in the U.S.A. - Bruce Springsteen
Parklife - Blur
Wildflowers - Tom Petty
Runaway Train - Soul Asylum
Sixteen Stone - Bush
Urban Hymns - the Verve
Exile on Main Street - the Rolling Stones

One More Week

Officially, I only have seven days left of first semester, before I'm really and truely done. I considered making an extensive list of the school work that I have to get done in that time, but I think that it might just upset me, and after the perfect night that I just had, the last thing I need is to be upset.

I worked walkhome, was one minute late, earned a (well, another) demerit, walked with one of my favorite people, had an absolute blast together, and am now floating on 3 feet of air for no reason in particular. I just feel happy tonight. Honestly? If you asked me face to face at this very moment in time, I would tell you that everything feels right to me. This may or may not be due to an all around amazing conversation with S tonight ... I could (and will, I'm sure) go on for paragraphs or potentially pages (I'm blushing now) about my current fascination with said boy (why am I so scared to use his name?), but tonight, even that seems like too big of a subject to tackle. I don't even know where to start.

But I have to talk about it, right? Because this is what's important to me right now. This is what I care about - making this work. So I need to work through what I'm feeling, and come to some sort of logical decision about the state of my heart (because right now, I'm not kidding when I say that I'm flying).

In no particular order (although, can that ever be true?) I feel the following.

1. Fear. I'm scared, I'm terrified, I'm nervous. Whatever word you want to use, I've got it going on right now. What am I scared of?
A) if and when this becomes a 'relationship', said boy is going to destroy me. This isn't speculation, it's fact. At some point or another, I will be completly heartbroken, and it's gonna be his fault.
B) If I really am just 'me' ... this neurotic, excitable, loving, passionate, independant woman that I'm turning out to be... is that going to be good enough?
C) 'm scared of letting someone love me. Did Marcus love me? Yes. Did I love Marcus? At one point in time, but not for a long, long time. Maybe what I'm scared of is letting myself love somebody? Because as unhappy as I was in my former relationship, it was easier to be indifferent than to put my heart on the line and risk getting hurt. It's not that I stopped myself from loving Marcus, I think it's more that I stayed with him because my heart was safe. I wasn't giving it away, y'know?

2. I can't stop smiling. I don't really know what emotion I'm trying to experience or convey is, but it's so much more than being happy. Happy sounds so bland right now. I'm ecstatic. I love this feeling, and I think that I would be perfectly content to smile like an idiot all day long, for the rest of the year. Being crazy about someone has it's merits, clearly.

3. Anxious. We're in different cities. No matter what we say or do - that's a pretty lousy way to start out a relationship. I'm anxious to see him. I'm anxious to kiss him. I'm anxious not to be afraid anymore. I'm anxious in general.

Am I thinking too much? Maybe that's just a girl thing. I'm not really analyzing it, or picking it apart ... I'm really just letting this hit me like a perfect wave, but at the same time, I really enjoy basking in it. When I think and think and think about it, I'm not worrying so much as I'm reliving specific moments again and again and again in my head. Just for fun. Just because it's pretty much been that amazing.

Okay. Enough talk about my love life. My non-boyfriend. I'm going to get some work done and head to bed.