7.11.09

19 with bullets



  • intelligent
  • called to serve the Oakland California Mission,to report Dec 23
  • skinny-butt
  • stable, not bc of daddy's money but because he's well saved
  • incredible grasp on reality
  • death note
  • so so so stinkin kind.I could smash his face.
  • wakes up at 12pm daily
  • picky eater
  • chocolate milk
  • shorter
  • same sense o huma
  • intros me to new things
  • respectful
  • wears cologne

5.9.09

Exhausted? Feeling bad? POST-IT!

Nathan once told me I could never be mean. I'd often prove this when heated. I'd say something as sinister as I could think, but the second it left my mouth I'd stumble and trip over an apology, landing flat on my face in shame. He'd smirk and patronize my shame with an almost, "the sun could hit me harder than that" sort of look.

This week I disproved him. I sat on a park bench yesterday, staring at the interlocking stone path, imagining my vomit finding each crack an irrigation system emptying to the flowerbeds it shouldered. My words made me sick. I have never been this barbed.

It's a very hard lesson I'm learning, one most learn in their adolescent years. I call this man pubescent (in far worse articulation), yet here I am acting like a catty seventh grader. I bear the claw marks of catty seventh graders, after enduring that how could I turn around and rear my own?

I've not only undoubtedly crushed his self-worth, but crushed one of the greatest friendships I've ever had. It's a bit devastating losing a best friend. It's happened to me three or more times in my life, each time desensitizing a little more the next, perhaps even making me cynical of the success of best friendships. Yet, I still believe in them.

Wanted: A dude friend for this lady bird. Someone to watch basketball with, to have incredible pun with. When shopping for needles for our record players and I get frustrated by not finding what we're looking for, this dude friend will turn to me and say, "it's okay, I'm sure we'll find what we needle." Potential of best friendship. He must love riddles, deduction, and creative expression of emotion. And if this dude is to call the friendship off, it MUST be more direct than this:



My response:

Duly Noted.

22.7.09

for love

valediction to a long distance relationship

beating dead horses
with spacebars and hard returns
Sans Serif weapons

4.7.09

comfy cabs

I don't think I asked for much for my birthday, but may have mentioned in passing how much I love my truck and would love to love it to my fullest capacity.

I go to my parents house at least once a week to use their car cleaning supplies or check the pressure in my tires or inflate them. I decided it's time to become self sufficient and have slowly but surely been putting together supplies of my own. So far I have window cleaner, tire shine, towels and... that is all. This stuff is expensive.

For my mother's birthday (and my early birthday) I was given an inflatable air mattress with electric pump for the cab. My father also helped me re-tighten the cap so that it is now leak proof and helped me cut a new key for the cap window so I can now lock all my new treasures inside. I was also given my own tire pressure gauge and a campfire chair. And I may have appropriated one of the most comfortable sleeping bags your body will ever nestle into.

I don't think I'll make it home from work tonight.

If anyone wants to have an over night in say, Coboconk, Bobcageon, Tobermory, Detroit, MTL, NYC, MEXICO!, please let me know and I will be more than happy to drive and house my friends. Just as long as you are into cuddles... it's a tight fit back there .

3.7.09

when I used to be independent

last year I experienced the most incredible fireworks ever. I traveled to DC to do it right (because in Canada, Ottawa cradles about 150 000 in it's streets and wows them with a mobile of fireworks for about 20 minutes). However, upon arrival a local family told me where the real fireworks were. They woke at dawn to go and lay a tarp out in the high school field of Catonsville to claim out space. We returned later that night after experiencing my first ever 4th of July parade (!glee!) to a spectacular foray of explosions. My favorites were the christmas farts and inseminations (you can just imagine what they looked like).

Below is a Happy Independence Day card sent to my friend as a reminder of our last year celebrations. To my American acquaintances, congratulations on your independence... but you will never know true independence until you experience free health care and exorbitant taxes! Vive Canada!

2.7.09

one love, to love, free love








25 years have expired. It feels just wonderful.

This year is a secret. It's the first I haven't gone out of my way to send myself on a flight somewhere, that I haven't made myself some exorbitant cake, told all my friends that it's coming two months before it's happened. I'm going to sit back and observe the passing of this year and roll it over my tongue for a while. I want to drain all the flavours out of 25 so that the taste of 26 will be so new and undiscovered to me I'll have a year to deconstruct just what exactly it is that comprises it's complex flavour.

But all periphrasis aside:

For my birthday this year I want to feel love. I want my friends to turn to me, embrace me and tell me how much they appreciate my friendship. No cards, no presents, just love. I'm beginning to question the ability of many people to set aside daily distractions and give unsullied love. I doubt many even know how to do it anymore. We've learned how to play games, how to draw love out of someone before they draw it out of us, how to put up walls. I want a hug and conversation from my brothers. I want someone to forget that I have the ability to judge and open their mind and heart to me for just one day. I'll listen. I want someone to listen to me for just one day. I want people to believe and hope again, instead of just get by and live their life under the tutelage of "a future".

Unconditional love.

the mouth organ and I love

23.6.09

redirect, derelict

it's easy not to commit to a blog when my musings are directed elsewhere. Well no longer, the www is now my most preferred recipient.

A text message received today:

There once was a girl from Barrie
Her armpits were really hairy
She tried to wax
But it grew back
Thank goodness her breath smells like cherries

I had been eating cherries for breakfast, so found it just enchanting that a man 5 hours away from me with no knowledge of my eatings would write such words!

My immediate response was this picture message:



"breath of cherries," he would say
She soaked in cherries everyday.
Of this routine
he never knew
How she came to taste like bloodied fruit.