I Can't Find the Gorgeous Words: December 2005

Wednesday, December 28, 2005

How Well Do You Know Your Boyfriend?

The idea that it's possible to know someone, *really* know someone, is immensely attactive to me. I'm not the biggest fan in the world of Dr. Phil, but I found this survey on his website and I think it has a lot of merit. It's important to explore and understand the person that you love. So here, in 'public' and live online, I'm gonna see how well I know Steve. I hope, for my sake, that when he looks this one over, he'll be able to tell me that the answer is "pretty well"

* * * * * * * * *

Answer the following questions as honestly as you can. Remember that you need to do this without consulting your partner. The point is to assess how aware of your partner you are now. Make this an honest appraisal.

I can name my partner's three best friends.
Ummm ... I think so! His HLP is Paul, who lives in Liverpool. His alternate HLP is Adam Say, who worked at Walkhome with us. As for #3? I would probably say it's Jamie, a really good friend of his from Thunder Bay.

I know what accomplishments my partner is most proud of.
Steve is proud of a lot of things. The three that come to mind right away are finishing his master's degree (and the awesome thesis that he wrote), beating cancer twice, and landing the senior peer advisor position for S.O.A.R at Queen's

I can identify the happiest time in my partner's life.
I'd be stupid to say that he was happiest when he fell in love with me ;). Probably when the Blue Jays won the world series, when he convocated from Queen's, and seeing Pearl Jam play the first notes of their show in Thunder Bay

I know what my partner considers to be his or her greatest losses in life.
The death of his dad's father, for sure. Perhaps the loss of a beloved left kidney, although this remains to be seen - he seems not to mind too much. I think he misses his old dog Chief, too.

I can describe what my partner considers to be his or her greatest area of difficulty in interacting with each of his parents.
Ummm - I think so. I think that both of his parents have a pretty definite idea of what track their son should be on, and it's hard for him to get them to understand that he's really happy doing what he's doing, which isn't much, right now. He needs a break, and I think that's the hardest thing for them to realize.

I know what will be probably be playing on the radio when my partner is driving somewhere.
Pearl Jam! The Who! Bruce Springsteen! NEXT

I can name the relatives that my partner would most likely try to avoid at a family reunion.
Hahahaha. All of his family are wonderful people. I don't think he actively doesn't like any of them. He's probably closer to some than others though (his dad's mom is a little bit wackers, but that's all I can think of!)

I can describe the most traumatic event that occurred in my partner's childhood.
I would say his Wilm's Tumor, definitely

My partner has clearly identified for me what he or she wants in life.Steve has clearly identified to me that he doesn't know yet what he wants in life, except that he wants to be happy and financially comfortable -- both of which are great aspirations

I can identify the obstacles that my partner believes are preventing his or her getting what he or she wants.
Money and opportunity, at the moment

I know which of my partner's physical features he or she is least happy about.
I'm pretty sure that I do.

I can recall the very first impressions I had of my partner.He was wearing shorts and a red shirt and standing behing the walkhome kiosk. I walked in from the Bagot Street doors and I can remember the whole moment in slow motion. He was tanned and I remember looking at him smiling and being totally overcome with lust - like, pure desire. He's a good looking guy! After talking for a few hours, I was hooked. I went home that night and wrote in my journal about this perfect guy I had met. I had no idea that I would be dating him almost two years later!

I know what section of the Sunday newspaper my partner is likely to turn to first.
SPORTS!

I can describe, in some detail, the home environment in which my partner was raised.
Small town, comfortable house, only child, really caring parents, stable childhood, lots of good friends, a bit geeky but still totally likeable, lots of family around.

I know what makes my partner laugh.
Hopefully I do. But if not, the "I'm Rick James, Bitch" sketch or the Rock Lobster song (with his nerdy dance moves to go with it) never fails to make him bust a gut

I know what my partner's parents would probably say is the thing about my partner that they are most proud of.
Probably his education - my boyfriend is smart beyond belief and I know his parents are really proud of him for that. I also secretly thinks that his mom is thrilled that he's so musical, since she is too.

I can describe two or three decisions my partner made before we met that my partner now regrets — and my partner can do the same about me.
Ummm, I don't think he has a lot of regrets, but I can think of one or two. Does Steve know mine? I have NO idea.

I know which part of a restaurant menu my partner is likely to look at first.
Steve's systematic. He'll read the menu from the appetizers through to the main courses. The first thing he probably looks at is the beer!

I can quote three things my partner says to me that he or she says to no one else in this world.
1. Monkey Monkey Monkey!
2. HEED!
3. Bri-crane, bri-crane
4. It's so hard being Bri Johnson ;)
*NOTE* - I hate all of these sayings. Seriously.

I am thoroughly familiar with my partner's religious beliefs.
I think I know enough to have a fair idea of where he stands on most issues

So - how did I do?

On Gratitude, Again

I'm waiting for the ferry - since it's the end of the holiday, there's a three-sailing wait for cars and a full berth of walk ons, myself included. Since it's so busy, I'm curled up in the corner of the sunny waiting room with my computer, trying to pass the time.

I read through my diary, like the whole thing, last night. A lot of what I've been thinking and feeling lately has been really negative and I was thinking that being unhappy is a really toxic way to be living. I'm sick of waking up at 6:30 every morning and not feeling good - not feeling good about my job or my current situation or my body or whatever. It does nothing but bring me down. So I'm going to try to get back into the habit of looking for and expressing gratitude. I need to come home every night with five things that I am thankful for. Whether or not my day was good or awful, whether or not I find a new job or meet more people in Toronto, looking for things to be thankful for will essentially turn my attitude around; instead of looking for and expecting the negative, I want to focus on the positive. If all I can do every day from now until next september is be thankful for 5 things that I have, that will be enough. If the only prayer I give is thanks, that will be enough.

Today, I'm thankful for the energy to clean, make beds and get organized -- it's not often that you wake up in the morning and feel ready to tackle your literal and proverbial mess. I'm thankful for my mom, who is resiliant and perceptive and strong; she keeps on getting up when she gets knocked down and is an inspiration to me. I am thankful for my little dog Waldo, who curls up at my neck at 6 in the morning, keeping me warm. I'm thankful that I can sleep with my window open, breathing fresh fresh fresh air all night long. Finally, I'm thankful for a beautiful day for a ferry ride. The sun is low over the ocean and the wind feels crisp but not cold, and I am looking forward to finding a window seat and indulging in a good book for the hour-and-a-half trip to Victoria.

It was easier than I thought. I will keep my eyes open for these thankful moments from now on.

Tuesday, December 27, 2005

Everything that's Already Been Said About Brokeback Mountain

A film like Brokeback Mountain comes along once every couple of years; cinematography that conquers both the Rocky Mountains and the slightest movement of the eyes, acting that makes me forget that I'm seeing Jake so-and-so from the cover of GQ magazine, directing that assumes the intelligence of its audience. I usually go to the movies for the popcorn, but today, I was too busy enjoying one of the most honest and complicated love stories I think someone has ever been brave enough to put on film. I know a lot has been said about this movie and I'm sure it's far more interesting and complete than my own thoughts. But I really want to say this: I like the idea that gay men are no longer being represented on film by characters like Jack from 'Will and Grace', or Queen Eye for the Straight Guy. I like that 'gay' can still mean 'masculine'. I like the idea that a story can be told about a closeted love affair between two cowboys without making any crude jokes about homosexuality. I like that no matter what sexual orientation we tend towards, there is something real and visceral and primitive about falling in love. It didn't matter to me that it was two men onscreen - the passion was evident; I felt it in my toes. Everyone knows what it's like to be stupid-in-love with someone, in that dizzy, frantic, overwhelming way. The fact that two straight actors could create the same intensity on screen was incredible.

You know what's kind of embarrassing to say? The intimate scenes were awkward to watch, at first. Honestly, I don't think anyone expected them to be so brutally stripped down. There was nothing 'sexy' about it - they weren't romantic, there was no swelling music cutting away to an elegant silhouette of two lovers - it was a man, in his most animal form, taking another man. I could hear people in the audience shuffle in their seats and whisper to each other when Jake Gyllenhaal (who played Lone Ranger Jack Twist) fumbled to undo his belt, and bent over in front of Heath Ledger. Presenting himself - it felt like it was too intimate an act for us to be witnessing. I felt like I was being disrespectful. I felt like I needed swelling music and elegant silhouettes. It occurred to me at some point that the same scene between a man and a woman may not have even captured my attention. We've become totally desensitized to man/woman sex. It's still more common to see a romance between two women onscreen than a male/male one. Consider that it's perfectly acceptable for two girls to kiss each other sloppily while dancing on the stage at AJ's Hanger, but if two men engage in the same act, it's 'gay'. A male/male relationship is essentially one of the last taboos, and I applaud the movie for creating something real for us to understand and be a part of. It doesn't hurt that the movie was filmed in Calgary, my hometown. The first half of the movie was filmed entirely in the mountains, and it took my breath away to remember how beautiful it was there (apparently, during the filming of the Fourth of July scenes in Fort McLeod the crew would get the extras pumped up by telling them to act like the Calgary Flames had just won the Stanley Cup!)

All in all, I was better off for having gone to the movies today; I don't know very many films I've seen that I can honestly say that for. And if I can't sum it up with the right words, perhaps the movie's director, Ang Lee, might have put it best:

"In overwhelmingly perceiving Brokeback Mountain as a revolutionary gay love story, the breathless critical apparatus overlooks the nuances that make this as basic and relatable a romance as Romeo and Juliet. Ang Lee has not made a movie about men and men, or men and women--he has made a movie about souls"

Monday, December 26, 2005

Mom with no make-up on :)

Christmas 2005 031, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

My new Christmas hoodie

Christmas 2005 051, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

Waldo and I, reunited

Christmas 2005 011, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

My baba and gido at the dinner table

Christmas 2005 057, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

Cindee's new bangles

Christmas 2005 034, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

My new Christmas fleece (and a funny face)

Christmas 2005 047, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

christmas on the couch

Christmas 2005 044, originally uploaded by heybreezy.

The Ghost of Christmas Past

Sometimes, it takes a call from someone who's known you for a long time to make you feel like things have fallen back into their place. I had been having a rough go at it today. After two rounds in the guilt trip ring with my dad and an argumentative and unproductive night on the phone with Steve, I was feeling as though another mediocre Christmas was almost ready to be put into the history books. It might remain so, however, I got an unexpected phone call from someone who knew me and loved me way back when, and an hour later (which passed while my dog patiently waited to be taken out to the bathroom, and ended up peeing on the carpet) I felt like there was someone who really believed in me the way I wanted to be believed in. Someone who thought that I was kind and warm and together and a fighter and a survivor. And it felt good to be believed in tonight, when so many little things had gone wrong. To that person - Thank you. You brought Christmas a little closer back to where it belonged.

Sunday, December 25, 2005

Merry Christmas, Baby

It's 11:30 on Christmas Eve and I don't feel inspired to write anything particularly memorable -- I'm still jet lagged today, and am trying to shake off the 2:00am fog as I get myself wound down and ready for bed. I will say that I don't know what I was expecting from Christmas this year, and therefore am totally unsure of whether or not I'll be satisfied or disappointed. I don't know even if it would be fair to be disappointed with Christmas. Perhaps my ideal - Carols and ice skating and big family gatherings and cookie baking, belongs to someone else's life. My reality, today, consisted of going over to Karen's apartment a few floors above us (my mom's best friend), having a glass of champagne and relaxing with them as they exchanged gifts. Tomorrow, my brother and his girlfriend are coming over in the afternoon and we're going to exchange gifts and have a nice dinner together. At some point, I'll make my way over to Victoria to see my dad and my sisters, who are having Christmas together tomorrow morning.

Maybe I still feel the sting of being a divorced kid. Holidays are always a touchy time of year; no matter which parent you spend Christmas with, you know the other one is spending it by themselves, and you feel sad for them. Wherever you are, you feel like you're not entirely at home. Even now, at 22, I'm getting guilt trips from my grandparents for not spending Christmas day with my dad. So part of me glorifies the traditional 2 parents, 2 kids, big tree, stuffed stockings type of Christmas. When I hear about my friends having wonderful celebrations, I feel sad for myself. And that's not what Christmas is all about.

For tomorrow, I only wish that everyone I love, whether I can be with them or not, find peace and happiness for themselves. I wish to be happy where I am. I wish to let go of all of my guilt. I hope for the maturity to understand that even though my family doesn't have money for gifts (even though we all buy one for each other so that no one goes without), that we love each other and are good to each other on a very special day.

My mom just peeked into the room and said, "I wish that I had money so that I could buy you and Regan and everyone I loved things that I saw and wanted them to have". And I told her that there's an infinite number of 'things' out there - like, there's no limit to the material excess that we can indulge in. Sure, there's a lot of things out there that I would love to own, but in the end, 'things' can't make my life better. What's more important to me is the act of giving; the idea that someone has put thought and effort and time into selecting a gift. With this, the gift becomes inconsequential to the giving itself. The key then, when you're in a situation of relative poverty, is to find a way to give thought and effort and time, without adding more 'things' to our life. I don't have the answer, really. But it's more important to give of ourselves, to be open with eachother, to be compassionate and loving and trusting, than to give anything from a store. There may not be much under the tree for me this Christmas, but I have more to give and have received more from my mom and brother than any one of my wealthier friends. I hope that everyone I know can be so lucky.

Merry, merry Christmas, blog world.

Wednesday, December 21, 2005

Let There Be Light

Hopefully, I won't offend anyone today when I wish them a merry solstice. People have been upset lately with Merry Christmas, which I tend to throw out as sort of a general good tidings thing, only to have people take it personally that I didn't also wish them a happy kwanza (no offense to those who celebrate it). Back to the point: yes, as my housemate pointed out to me while we were eating breakfast and watching sports centre at 6:45 this morning, today is the shortest day of the year (not that we could tell - in our little underground lair, it's dark enough to always be night time). We are at the one polar opposite (forgive the pun) of our astronomical trip around the sun.

In earlier generations (we're talking 30,000 years ago) Solstice was celebrated as the rebirth of the sun, after a long six months of diminishing light. It's interesting to learn that Christmas, or "Christ's Mass" (which is supposed to honour the birth of Christ) was chosen arbitrarily as December 25th when in fact, modern religious scholars have no real idea when his date of birth actually was (although some place it near the beginning of February). December was chosen, in part because it coincided with already existing celebrations for the solstice and the rebirth of the eternal sun. On the roman calendar, the solstice fell on december 25th instead of the 21st - making it a perfect choice. So there you go - Christmas time is not only a chance for us to reflect on humanity/goodwill/religion, etc, but directly connected to the fact that from here, it all gets brighter.

Happy Solstice! Take advantage of that extra time in the dark to cuddle up with a special someone under a big, warm, blanket, turn off the TV, and celebrate in your own horizontally creative way :D

The Domestic Toddler

As I write this, I currently have a four-year-old vacuuming the living room, with the two-year-old toddling behind him, dragging the vacuum cleaner. I'm telling you, this is a fantastic idea for an afternoon activity. Maybe after nap, I can teach them how to arrange the shoes and coats before unloading the diswasher.

I'm going to be a great mom, by the way. Put those kids to work!

10 Steps to a Meaningful Christmas

It's easy to get lost in what's wrong with Christmas. Here's a great article that I came across today to help us find what's really important at this time of year (and I'll save my "don't change the christmas tree to a holiday tree" rant for a later time)

10 steps to a meaningful Christmas

1 Decline all invitations to unimportant parties. You will not miss the room temperature eggnog or the loud co-worker who corners you under the mistletoe. Vow to stay home instead and roast marshmallows with the kids, watch "It's a Wonderful Life", and read "How the Grinch Stole Christmas" out loud.

2 Avoid giving extravagant or generic gifts. Opt for a gift from the heart. Your hairdresser will appreciate homemade cookies as much as an imported box of chocolates. A friend who loves to read will prefer a beautifully wrapped book to an impersonal gift certificate.

3 Schedule a day for yourself - browse in a bookstore, go to an afternoon movie, or enjoy a decadent pedicure.

4 Do something for someone you don't know. Volunteer at a food bank, deliver a basket of goodies to the local fire department, or arrange to read to a senior.
5 Make an anonymous donation to a worthy organization (and don't tell a soul). Many religions consider an anonymous gift to be a divine act.

6 Make an event out of gift-wrapping. Gather all your supplies, play Christmas music, drink apple cider, and get creative. Allow children to participate aim for perfectly charming rather than perfect.

7 Send beautiful cards with photos and a handwritten message instead of a gift to loved ones far away.

8 Fill Christmas stockings with joy - invite family members to drop a special note into each other's stocking.

9 Let everyone contribute to the Christmas meal don't say no when your sister-in-law offers to make the stuffing.

10 Recommit to a focus on the true meaning of Christmas and avoid cynics.

happy holidays and merry christmas everyone

Tuesday, December 20, 2005

To a Stepmother at Christmas Time

How old was I when I met her – five? six? I was sitting on the floor of the living room in my Dad’s “river house”-the tiny 2-bedroom condo on the bank of the Bow river that he rented when he and my mom split up-this I remember. Sometimes when the river was swollen, water would seep across the lawn and flood the kitchen and living room, and my brother and I wouldn’t be able to jump on the trampoline outside, which was our favorite thing to do. I must have been about 6. She was probably about 26 or 27. My dad was having a party and wanted to introduce me to her, I remember them walking into the living room together. It was very simple, “Brianna, this is Heather”. He didn’t explain that he was in love with her or how they had met or the hundreds of ways she was going to shape me into the person I am today. Just an introduction, and then he left her with me.

Heather didn’t have a lot of experience with kids – in fact, she later confessed to me that I was the first kid she ever really got to know. But instead of asking me where I went to school or what my favorite colour was, she looked at me, started laughing, and threw a blanket over my head. I started laughing too. It took me another three weeks to figure out that she was dad’s girlfriend, and probably a year after that to understand exactly what this meant. In the meantime, we welcomed her into our peculiar, disjointed little family.

Heather was my step-mom for the next 15 years. She taught me about alcohol, took me to see dirty movies (by accident) when I was far too young for them, encouraged me to take major fashion risks, and never, not once, lost faith in me. Faith in my ability to figure it out. No matter what, I felt that Heather was always on my side, that she ‘got’ me. Example: when I was about ten, I started to feel really anxious about my life. I was mad at my mom, mad at my teacher, mad at my soccer coach, and mad at myself. I was awkward and lanky and not at all cool, and bewildered by how my life was changing. Instead of lecturing me, Heather decided that we should go for a drive. She drove me an hour out of Calgary into the countryside, steered the Jeep into a cornfield, and parked. Then, she told me to scream as loud as I wanted, say whatever I wanted, and get as mad as I could at whoever upset me. At first I was reluctant, but them we started to scream together. I got out of the car and yelled at the top of my lungs, “I f***ing hate you. I hate everything. Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop”. I remember pulling corn stalks out of the ground and throwing them, whipping them against the dirt. I remember crying harder than I had ever cried before, or since. I had so much sadness inside of me that no one had ever been able to release before that cornfield. Somehow, Heather knew.

She had two children with my dad – the complete and absolute loves of my life, Jessica and Hannah, a family again for me. This year though, after years and years of fighting and uncertainity, my dad and Heather decided to divorce. It was probably best for everyone, but I feel like my heart has been ripped into pieces and scattered across the country. She’s living in Calgary with the girls now and I miss them terribly. My family now consists of my mom, living alone in Coquitlam, my brother, living with his girlfriend in North Van, my dad, living alone in Victoria and my sisters and step-mom (ex-step-mom?) living in Calgary. I don’t know how to reconcile this and sometimes I think it’s ruining me. All I want is to be home, to have one place that is home, to be together, for people to love each other. It was sobering for me, a moment when I finally felt as though I had grown up, when I realized that I’m too small to make this happen. I’ve been trying for so long to foster this love and I just can’t find it. People just keep breaking off. I don’t know how much more of me there is to give before I’ve loved as much as I can, and finally need something back.