I am a tight ball of anticipation. I am flopping stomachs and rushing heads.
Do I spill this feeling all over you, or do I attempt to satiate this feeling by other means? Do I put on my shoes and slip into my headphone and leave my cozy room for the harsh outdoors in an attempt to pound these anxious, waiting feelings from my self?
There is so much to look forward too, but, how do I want to define my expectations, and how will you? What will become of all this?
In time I will learn what is right, what is expected and what to expect, but for now, I will tightly lace my hightop chucks and run through the dark halloween night.
The Tenth Floor offically has a television. As an extention of this television posession, we now also are a family. It's funny how we all gather and cuddle and slouch into our positions as temporary orphans and adopted siblings. I am passively boycotting the television, simply because I do not like most of the shows we watch, however, I'll be an enormous hypocrite when my television arrives next weeked.
If we put our hearts in twenty thousand tiny jars, they'd never leave their homes.
"My Hazard wouldn't be yours, not ever; But every doom, like a hazelnut, comes down To its own worm. So I am rocking here Like any granny with her apron ever her head Saying, lordy me. It's my trouble. There's nothing to be learned this way. If I heard a girl crying help I would go save her; But you hardly ever hear those words. Dear children, you must try to say Something when you are in need. Don't confuse hunger with greed; and don't wait until you are dead."*
The wind howls through the fiddling, whistling and whining and at times roaring. It's doing the same through me, and the piercing cold dry wind is finding the warm wet caves I'm hiding. They are full of loneliness, my loneliness is aching these days. I am shocked by the simple isolation my habits find me in. It's easy to be alone when you live in a group.
I long for a partner to spend these silent Sundays beside. I wish for the quiet, uncompromising companionship I've dreamed about in place of my wedding day. I don't know where to find this person, who will sit with me, book in hand, all day while I am quiet, who will simply be.
I don't know where to find this person, because she is not hiding in bar corners, where I so earnestly search for her. She is hiding at home under the covers on Sunday. She is wrapped up in blankets, napping and reading books.
"I've started to wonder if I'm in love with her. But as I say it out loud I realize how ridiculous it sounds, how impossible it would be. 'Kelly, I know I've been a little clingly lately, and well, frankly, I want to go to bed with you.' That's not what I want. I don't know what I want. What I know is that I'm empty and she fills me up like no one else can, male or female."[!]
The wind is still howling as a read Frankenstein. It's unnerving the similarities I can draw between Dr. Frankenstein and myself. If I created life, would I love if because it existed and it was a part of me, or would I love it for how it loved me? I am held captive in my monomainia and I don't want to be this way, I long to be social, to be a part of a whole a part of society and I want to love, I live so fully to love and be loved and I feel impatient that my time here is wasted in not loving.
The part of me that keeps me in bed all day, curled under the blankets in feverish naps, and up all night sitting in my windowsill watching the cabs crawl through the fog, keeps me up here, in my isolation and says so loudly that this ache inside will not be assuaged by socialization today, it's best to stay indoors, eat alone, read alone, sleep alone, and be content in your run on sentences and your photography and keep doing these things that make you awesome, but oh so alone.
Where are you hiding? I am coming to find you.
I made a depressing mix cd today. Tomorrow I'll try for something happier.
There is a place, inside me, where one hundred women live. It's full of light and anything but lonely... I close my eyes and imagine them sitting close together in interlocked circles, talking, holding each other, laughing...When I am alone I laugh along with them. It's only when the men invite themselves in - into this room, into the laughter, even into me, - that the links of this woman chain is weakened. The men call, and the women come.[!]
* "Advice - Ruth Stone Except from: [!] One Hundred Women - Kristina Halvorson
I have read this play countless times. I can nearly recite it word for word from memory. It feels like an autobiography of my life. When I am feeling lonely and isolated I take it out and peel back the pages and remember all the women inside me, all the different parts of me that can overtake the lonely. I remember that I am loved and I am awesome.
It's all about the crappy non-sensical photos in this post.What is this? Who knows, but it's my favorite. I think, it might be shannon, or it could just be random lights, I was playing around with shutter speeds.
I am so proud of this place I've found. Like a secret treetop of my childhood I guard it was a fierce determination. I feel as if I have fallen in love here, with this glorious place. I never want to leave, never have my feet lift off the hard cold earth of this harbor town.
I am hurt when it is not seen as I see it, and I wish so feverently that I could show you how marvelous it is.
There are people missing in my tree top paradise, but they are close by through wires of cyberspace and late night phone calls.
Mornings that bring e-mails from new friends and old friends and the comfort of familiarity, familiar issues, and I can compare and contrast my life now to my life then, and I feel a warmth of joy and peace that I have not felt in many many years, I keep marveling at this new found sense of self, sense of purpose and sense of identity.
I have a room with two windows and a door, I have books with stories of monsters and girls and angels and slaves, I have a bed and my mothers quilt, and I have my photo album reminding me of where I come from, but not so much that it's haunting. Life isn't haunting anymore.
Today brings searches for Halloween costumes, and I regret leaving my best treasures in Calgary.
I keep intending to mention that I ran into Jessalyn again, a second time. This time we talked, her and I, and it was good, it was more than good, it was exceptional. I was alright with it. I felt strong and confident and prepared. I felt as if this is my home and my feet are rooted here and this is me, and I am happy. I am really really happy. I have found love here among new friends and I have found new air and new sidewalks to pound and new streets to amble down.
I didn't ask what happened, because in that moment I realized how little that matters anymore, how much better off I am since those days of blind attachment and unquestioning adoration. She couldn't tell me anyway, and even if she tried, she wouldn't say what I wanted to hear. I don't even know what I wanted to hear. We hugged and parted and I realized how much better off I am. I was the one strong enough to plan a future for myself and leave all of my past in a safe place.
I am proud of myself, and getting to this place of warm self security, for having standards that I refuse to bend and having family who wrap me up and hold me while I shake and shiver with emotion. I am grateful for my friends who follow me across the country and bear with the time difference as I bombard them with excitement in the wee hours of the morning. I am so in love with new discoveries, and the discoveries of new friends, and new excitement with fresh eyes.
This is my reality now, and I have never been prouder of my sense of self.
Step One: Finish homework Step Two: By blank CDs Step Three: Make messy creations Step Four: Distribute messy baby creations. Step Five: Read as if reading for the first time. Step Six: Make sure everyone knows that you love them.
These are my goals right now.
P.S. I love you.
I am not going to be awake for school tomorrow.
My room is hot and I am keeping the windows wide open over night and if I wake up with a pigeon in my room, well so be it.
This book is beautiful and messy and inspiring. I have checked three of her books out from the library in the past couple of weeks and they have been tempting me from my pillow on sleepless nights and I finally succumbed and opened the pages. How wonderful.
I need to make my life art, I need to be live effectively as an artist. I need to be satisfied by my creation.
Life has been crazy and messy and wonderful and I have lots going on. That is all.
[Music: The life Aquatic - The Way I feel Inside - The Zombies]
I think I win the holy fuck that's messed up contest. Yesterday Jessalyn was standing outside my building shouting my name so that I would notice her. WTF? Yeah, I think I handled it well though, at least while I was in sight of her. I was happy and calm and I chatted with out being cold and without interrogating her and my head didn't rush and my heart didn't pound and my knees did not shake, but I got into the elevator and I started screaming. I started screaming because it's not fair, because this is my city, because she has no right to talk to me.
After getting over the initial response which was to run down the street and throw myself into the harbor and my secondary response which was to drink myself silly, I realized how much better than her I am. I can't remember why I was so heart broken when she left me, and why I was so crazy about her. I am living in Halifax and I have learned how to be happy, and I made a fantastic friend, and I don't live in Calgary and I don't have a stupid job and I am not fucking 27 year olds because I can't deal with relationships. Basically, I'm awesome, she is lame, that is all there is too it.
My weekend got even stranger after that. My mother showed up, and apparently she wasn't coming to visit me at all, but actually just stopping in on her way through to Aunt Shelly's with Elaine Nicole and Jonah. So I got in the car with them and then I was in a low grade restaurant somewhere between Halifax and Annapolis Royal, and then I was in Annapolis, at my aunts house hanging out in the wind and the rain on the porch with my uncle who is the best uncle ever, and my cousin who I love dearly, and I watched them pass a joint back and forth and I was so happy that I belong among them. I also laughed so hard I nearly peed my pants and cried myself to sleep.
I was put on the bus in the storm this morning and I jumped off down the street and tumbled into my dining hall for some food. Shortly I will be off to the airport to retrieve Shannon and kick of a fabulous week of no crying and awesomness.
Last night I went to see John Rae and the Choir, Julie Doiron and Great Lake Swimmers at St. Matthews United church. I love churches for concerts. There was so much emotion and cuteness and crazyness. John Rae's "choir" was a group of local indie kids, it was adorable and hilarious all at once. Julie Doiron was playing alone, and seemed incredibly neurotic, though extremely endearing. Does everything just sound better live? Great Lake Swimmers was just Tony, which was cool. He is crazy serious and intense. He played Moving Pictures, Silent Films which made my heart beat fast and my stomach to flop and my head to rush.
After that ended Shannon and I walked over to the Attic where some sneaking in occurred, we are so sneaky. We watched the Stolen Minks show. It was quite a lot of fun. Girls who shout and manipulate instruments are awesome.
Then, we went to Stage Nine to see Julie with her other band Shotgun and Jaybird. They were good, but I liked Julie's solo show better. Though, there was a bit of band hijinks happening, and I am all for hijinks.
It was a late night, but I managed to lure myself to bed with Dolores and fell asleep quickly.
Today is studying like a madwoman. Tomorrow I have three tests, and I've been only studying for one, and oh dear, i'm in trouble.
I never thought I'd ever do this, but you need to watch this!
Today was good. It was sunny and I slept well and I got up and showered and went to the grocery store and bought too many things and spent too much money and had to carry it all with my guilt back to the room, but I don't feel that bad now, because I bought good things, healthy things, like apples and pears and peanut butter and crackers and advil and I won't have to go grocery shopping again for a while.
I did my sociology homework, and if I had done it before sunday I might have had a better day. Maybe, maybe not. It doesn't really matter now, but it was all about socialization. It was very interesting, and then I had a nap and missed the meeting for the Gazette but, I did make it to my class, and it was very interesting, and I stayed the whole time and took so many pages of notes and I didn't give up.
So, yes, I retunred at the late hour of ten, and I am so obsessed with the Decemberists it's getting a bit silly.
I am going to make a collage of stuff to go on my door. It's going to be awesome. I can pretend to be an art student too!
The remainder of my day was not so bad. I had that terrible feeling of trapped energy and I headache and bleary eyes, but it was sunny outside and I had a few good conversations, and I missed dinner, which was for the best. Missing dinner is always for the best. My floormates were scared to disturb me for fear that I'd just burst into tears again. I am getting used to the hunger though.
I have learned that in order to do homework one must leave ones computer at the dorm and travel to a quiet coffee shop and just do it. It helps with a friend nearby.
This evening I read Weetzie Bat while curled up in my fabulous fleecy and eating care bear fruit snacks.
Things are looking up. Tomorrow will be good and productive and begin with a shower and proper breakfast.
Amy Millan is perfect fall orange sleepy Sunday music.
I started crying halfway through the parking lot on the way home last night. I've been crying ever since. The worst part is, I can't pin point why. There's not a definable cause and I'm just crying and crying and crying. I'll probably miss breakfast again today. I can't write about it because I don't know what it's about. It's painful and deep and I haven't felt this in months and I don't want to be feeling it but I have no choice because I don't know how to fix myself.
"Would it be weird if I asked you for a hug." I asked Peter with tears in my eyes. He said sure and put his arm around me then wandered of to his room. It's not the same, it's not like my friends at home. I need so intensely to be with Melissa right now.
I am an all or nothing girl. When I meet someone I know instantly if I want to be friends with them. I don't know that I know how to be friends with someone though. Of course I do, but I find that the line between friendship and love is very, very fine. It only takes me about a week, or five to ten fantastic words to fall in love with someone. It doesn't mean that I want to have a "relationship" with them, or have sex with them, just that I love them. I think they are the coolest person on the planet, I would do anything for them.
When I was a kid my mother always said, "If so and so jumped off a bridge would you?" It started with Jonah when I was barely five. I knew I'd jump off a bridge if he did. I would jump in front of a train to save him, I would drop everything to be with him if he ever needed it [which is something that will probably never happen.] He and his partner want to have children and they are having trouble finding someone to carry a child and heaven forbid a gay couple should be allowed to adopt. If he asked though, I wouldn't have to think very hard about carrying a baby for him. It's bizarre to think this way, being a nineteen year old lesbian. I'd do it too, except for social conventions getting in the way, and the fact that I couldn’t in good faith give a child my genetics. But I would if he asked. He would do anything for me. He would do anything for me.
This is what I look for in friends, and if they don't offer it, there's no point. The friendship will never get past it's infancy. The kids I live with are like this. There is no way I'd ever feel comfortable asking any of them for anything. Even asking Peter for a hug was going out on a limb.
I have friends who will always come before my lover. I believe that if I could fulfill my physical contact quota simply by having friends I wouldn't need a lover.
I talked to Jessica over the computer last night while I was crying. "I need a real hug so badly." I say to her and she replies. "I would so wrap you up in a real hug." I know she would, without a doubt. "I am wrapping you up in a psychological hug. it's a warm long one. with back rubbings and shh shh shhs." And it helped a bit. I've never met her, but she's always there when I need her.
I told her about my new Halifax friend, my only Halifax friend. I am nervous about her, only because I don't know what to expect from this. People are not prepared for this kind of devotion. I don't know if she can give me what I need from her. I want so desperately for her to be able too, and I want it to work out and be fabulous, but it's so new right now that I am wary. She says things and I think, "Exactly! I couldn't put that feeling into words before." And I think it will be fantastic, but I am trying to be less intense. [Obviously, this will end all that cause she will be reading this.]
Jessica and I talked about needing someone who understands us. I want someone who understands every part of me, every cell of my body and every thought and emotion in my mind. But I can't even give myself that. The only person who comes close is Brenna. She tries so hard to be able to understand what I am talking about, even though we are polar opposites in emotion. Being away from her is so hard. I miss being able to be with someone who finishes my sentences and who I share an exclusive vernacular with. She counts the number of words she says in a day and I want to sit on her bed and talk about how we can begin thinking about computer games and in the span of a minute that will transition to thinking about this time when we were kids and we invented Badball. I miss having someone who remembers my childhood as much as I do, having someone who remembers the parts that I don't.
I am convinced that I was never supposed to be a teenager. I want to be old. I have no desire to grow up and marry and right now, I don't even really have any desire to be in a sexual relationship with anyone. I am scared though that I will be lonely like this when I am old. I always wish that Brenna and I could spend our whole lives together, like in this children's book where one grandmother lived upstairs and one grandmother lived downstairs. I would love that. But I've never lived in a story book and I was never taught about my life in story books. I'm sure, if interpreted in an altered way I could have found clues, meanings, hints as to how I should live my life. But there is no societal term for a person who loves her friends as much as I do, and therefore I am the only one who can understand this world I live in. I cannot share this in language, love is love is love and it's all different to everyone who is loving and loved and in love.
I am homesick and I miss Melissa and I am so glad I have a sister like her. I wanted a big sister my entire life. I always wanted that feeling that if I had to I could call someone to talk me off whatever ledge I had perched on. I wanted unconditional love from someone. I only realized recently that not everyone thinks about the word suicide every day. I only recently realized that not everyone is sad, that life can be happy.
I'll be okay here in Halifax. I'll find what I need. I will go to the library and read children's books when I am feeling homesick. I will find a good slurpee source, and I will wander down to HMV when I need to go home. In time, I'll find new places that make me feel at home, and one day Halifax will be home and Calgary will be the place I grew up, and my friends will still be the most important people in my life, and my family will get to know me better and better over time.
Eventually, I am certain, I will find a girl, or a boy or a girl who used to be a boy or a boy who used to be a girl, a person, who will promise to give me everything I need for as long as they can, and I will give them everything I can, for as long as I can, and I will talk to my best friend every day, or every other day, but I won't be able to go longer than that. And the boy or girl that I love will have to be okay that Brenna comes before them. Brenna always comes before everyone else in my world.
I am continually trying to make myself normal. I know I never will be, I will always feel akward and different and separate from every other human on the planet, but I hope that one day I will be okay with this and stop trying to be something else.
I don't know how to end this. I feel better, a bit, I am still homesick, and I still miss people and I still don't think I can do things today. I've stopped crying however, and the sun is shining outside, and I've remembered how much I love Halifax, and that there a boy down the hall who is here to give me hugs when I need them. I remember that Shannon is visiting next weekend and we are going to paint the town in rainbow colours.
I am really fabulous at this time keeping business. How did I completely miss Coming Out Day? I had big plans for this day. It's funny, because today, like every other day, I considered making a statement that would reveal my sexual identity, but I didn't, I held back. Why is it so comfortable in this closet, why have I gone back into it?
Anyway, more time keeping issues. Tyler's play goes up Friday and not Tonight... Obviously. It took me a good five minutes to figure out what day it was. Sheesh.
and all the stars were crashing round as i laid eyes on what i'd found.
Today is the type of day, that if I had a backyard I would be sitting in it. I miss my backyard at home. It's one of the best yards in the country. I miss the sunroom too. Luckily my bedroom has large windows, so it's almost the same. However it's days like today that I miss having a little patch of grass to lay on, or a patio, or a deck or even an apartment balcony. I even considered moving my laptop down the the parking lot, I only considered for a few minutes though, because the parking lot is only a bit better than being in my own room.
The new Decemberists is amazing.
I am not being particularly productive today. I forgive myself though, because I can afford to be distracted in such fantastic weather. I can work when it's dark and when I am calm and when I don't feel the sugar rush of too much iced tea and caramels running through my head. For now, I look out the windows and pace the hallways and slip on my ballet shoes and wander down the block. I slowly wander back but miss the building and keep walking for day and day and days...
I had a dyke day at the library. I returned with three lesbian writer anthologies. One of these days I am going to break down and go into Venus Envy with the hopes that they have some Ann Bannon.
I can't help but feel that this life is what I have been waiting my whole life for. I miss my big sister and her boyfriend, and my little brother, and the art store, but I am so in love with my new lifestyle that I don't notice the absence of them too much. I was born to be an adult.
I am terribly weird lately. A five year old on too much sugar. Which immediately contradicts the above paragraph. I pace and pace and pace, throw fits and shiver violently with energy. My legs ache from the walking and my feet are sore, but I just keep going and never lay down.
Break a leg to Tyler. His play goes up tonight in Victoria.
"These currents pull us 'cross the border Steady your boats Arms to shoulder 'till tides are pulled Hold our grounds Making this cold harbor now home." -The Decemberist's - The Crane Wife - Sons And Daughters
I have concluded that today will probably end my two and a half week of not spending money. I shall purchase HPX tickets, Jill Barber's CD and The Decemberists The Crane Wife. I've been holding out, but I guess I really want this stuff because the desire isn't subsiding.
I also need to end my two week abstination from grocery shopping. I am also going to write an essay on Lost in Translation. [I will be doing this before anything else.] Attempt to wash my tenth story windows, and take pictures of books for my website assingnment. I love when homework can be an excuse to wander the city.
Did You hear that? That contented sigh of a life going well. That is the sound of a weekend well spent, a family that is loved, friends that are fantastic, and left over apple crumble made by my mother.
I have not yet decided if CocoRosie is too creepy to walk home in the dark too. Thoughts?
Want to see what I've been working on for my webdesign class?
Every day I'm amazed at how much I learn, that I've been wanting to know since I started this website stuff. Some day, I'm going to fix up the html on this blog so that the code is less embarrassing. The content will still be 80% awful, however, whatever.
This is the website I made for Jim Morton! That was a fun project.
This is the site I made for Dr. Felix Gato. The idea was the replicate a screen cap of a website that the prof made. It was really a lot of fun, I figured it wouldn't take very long but I ended up working on it for about 5 hours.
Maybe I am just too tired. Have I reached my lack of sleep plateau[depths]? I'd hate to think so, but I'm sitting here in the Killam library during my mid Tuesday afternoon lull and I'm contemplating how exactly I managed to get so far ahead of life that I have nothing to do. I'm also mulling over the idea of a jumbo hot dog from the GodFather, because as everything else has changed since my movement across the country so has my opinion towards those delightful packages of protein.
The point of all this though, is that I am tired. So I find myself reading Belletristic Impressions and wiping tears off my face and wondering why. Maybe I should be wondering why I am not at all concerned for my public display[terrible], or my current state of health[declining] or my current obsession with bed bugs. [They really do exist, they also seem to have manifested themselves between the sheets of many a dorm resident in the last couple of weeks!]
I'd really rather just sit here and continue reading these beautiful words. Oh! The joy it brings me when I find such excellent quality on the internet. [Certainly we are producing nothing of that type here.]
Alas, my stomach growls and I must be off for some greasy meaty nourishment that has become so paramount in my life these days.
your breating fire is not bringing back what's dead.
I have been fighting off a cold for days now. I'm warding it off with thoughts of sunshine and kittens. I am convinced that staying healthy is all about being comfortable. Tea is consumed as if it were water, and the warm liquid makes me warm out in the rain. Blankets are all about me and naps are frequent. I am consuming viamin C and Cold Fx as if they were M&M's. I am listening to songstreses such as Jenn Grant, Tanya Davis, Jill Barber and the occassional Great Lake Swimers.
I thought of a great idea for some sort of writing on the weekend. Now i just need time to develop it into more than an opening line.
In a couple of minutes I will lace up my boots, shrug into a sweater and a slide into my raincoat and trudge up to campus. I've started walking up the grassy boulevard on University amid the leaves and the trees with cars passing on either side. I don't notice the cars though, and it feels like I'm walking to school through a park.
I am joining the Gazette this evening. This is a big step for me. I am really going to join it, not just talk about joining. I am going to walk in there and say, I can do anything, sign me up. I will be a part of something bigger. I will be connecting to that giant mass that I am separately a part of. Maybe I'm just romantacizing it and maybe it sucks, but I'm going to try.
Speaking of trying. I studied for my sociology test all day and I am sick of it.
Cause in a great divide where a line is drawn, oh you must decide which half you're standing on.
CNN does a bit on the Indie Scene, it's way too great to not mention. Also, I am this guy. This kept me laughing for a good five minutes just now. By the way, they're serious about Dave Eggers.
Tomorrow, in procrastination of actually doing something about Sociology, I'll blog some more about my weekend, which was quite amazing.
