If Only...

Animals and Animal-Related Products

2012-02-14T18:38:00.001-07:00

Day 15: Bacon Strips and Bacon Strips and Bacon Strips

I didn't do a post for yesterday. I'm a giant piece of shit. I know. I don't even have an excuse for how busy I was, like saving piglets from some sort of bacon-worshipping cult. Nope, I'm just not that exciting.

All hail bacon Jeebus.

In my attempt to be really random and whatever, I discovered The Holy Church of Bacon. Seriously, there is a church of bacon. How awesome is that?
I think a religion that is bacon-based is something that I could really get into (my mouth). I hope Muscles Glasses from Epic Meal Time is involved in some sort of sexy-ceremony. That would be amazing.
Now I'm craving bacon. Damnit.

I came home from school today, and there were some strange items in my fridge.

Prawns, Scallops, Whipping Cream, Peppers and a Lemon.

This could be interesting.

Hugh informed me that Tyler is going to cook me supper, which honestly makes me nervous. I think Tyler has never made anything from scratch the entire time we have been together, he's more of a sandwich kind of guy, and I'm definitely not a sandwich kind of girl. It's been over an hour since I have been home, and Tyler is still not around. Weird. I'll post more on this tonight, if anything even comes of this. I'm sure that this is some sort of Valentine's Day fiasco... Which adds to my nervousness.

Lights and Talking Pictures? The Future is Now!

2012-02-12T22:54:00.000-07:00

Day 13

Instead of really doing a post of my mundane life and quitting smoking, I thought I would post a more visual blog today, mostly because I'm fairly food drunk from the amazing supper that I just cooked. Sirloin Steak in with a balsamic vinegar-rosemary reduction sauce, herbes de Provence roasted potatoes and green beans. My friend Newsboy gave me the potato and steak recipes. He's awesome for numerous reasons, like the fact that he likes Star Wars and owns a greyhound. But I digress. Look at the photo and weep tears of envious joy.

Yeah, it was as delicious as it looked.

In other news, I downloaded a new app for my iPad today, and now my newest Apple gadget of awesomeness has become a $600 cat toy.

Viktor loves it. He's probably going to ruin my case, but I can overlook it in the name of cute.

And instead of doing homework, I watched ridiculous videos on YouTube. Like this promotional Saab video made in the 1980s. This is true driving skill, prepare to shit bricks.

They sure don't make commercials the way they used to.

I need a more clever name for my blog, I feel as if it is really angsty, and I'm so past that type of thing. Any suggestions? Let me know in the comments. I want something clever and hilarious. Something very Samara-esque.

Acquire Currency, Disregard Females

2012-02-12T02:00:00.003-07:00

Day 12: Extra Hours and Yoga Poses

I don't have a lot to say about today, so I will keep this one short and relatively sweet.
I worked today - and got an extra hour in which is nice - I've been coming up short in the paycheque department these days.
I thought I would have just stacks of cash laying around my home once I quit smoking, but I haven't seen much of that yet. I have been buying a lot of snacks and coffee to compensate, along with my shopping addiction. I bought more clothes today. I really need more like I need a hole in the head, but whatever.

Like this, but a great deal of items on the floor.

The other big event from my day was the yoga posture clinic I went to this evening. That was the best $39 I could have possibly spent for three hours of yoga posture corrections. To my surprise, I've been doing most of the postures correctly, save my hips. I can't seem to keep those jerks lined up or in the place they need to be. They are either too open, or not open enough, and all at the most inconvenient times. The good news: I got into a toe stand, and actually balanced - for about 2 seconds.

Like this, but with more clothes and less rippling abs.

At yoga sessions, I have always had a terrible time not comparing myself to the other people in the room. The posture clinic really, REALLY helped me worry about how I was working the poses, and not what everyone else was doing. Until today, there was a sense of competition I felt in the room, and a standard of performance that I had to somehow live up to. Once I let that go, I was able to go deeper with better form than ever before. It was awesome.

I'm always on the lookout for a yoga buddy, so hit me up if you want to go to a hot yoga class together. I love going to classes, but sometimes have a hard time making time to actually go. You know, school and work and sleep and stuff.

OMNOMNOMNOMNOMNOM

2012-02-11T01:12:00.003-07:00

Day 11: Teh Noms

Today wasn't a very good day.
I tried to make the best of it, but sometimes, I just can't.
I have eaten nothing but processed, high-sodium, high sugar garbage, so I'm sure that is really helping to improve my disposition.

This is pasta made from chocolate.

I would have died happy eating this today,

but I had to settle for old easter bunny

chocolate for breakfast and some spaghetti later in the day.

Tyler and I had our weekly counselling session, but they seem to be doing more harm than good. We don't get along very often these days, and that makes me sad and tired of everything.
Today was also the first day I had a shift at work since I had quit smoking, it was weird not to have a "legitimate" excuse not to get out of the store for 15 minutes. It made the urge to smoke pretty intense. Sometimes, I just need a mini-break, and it is difficult to justify one without a nicotine dependence. I have known for years that smokers get more breaks than everyone else, but I really do understand how unfair that is, now that I am choosing to not smoke.
I'll probably just end up eating more; or drinking an excessive amount of caffeine.
My coffee intake has likely doubled in the last two weeks, and I'm not entirely opposed to developing a crippling coffee addiction.

Yeah, this is totally me right now.

I can quit coffee anytime I want, but there is no way in hell that I am even going to contemplate quitting that drug. Not for a while.

Numbers and Chocolate

2012-02-10T11:50:00.000-07:00

This weather makes me want to eat. Chocolate, pasta, anything greasy.
I got on the scale this morning, and was incredibly discouraged. I've put on another two pounds.
After seeing that number, I went directly to the kitchen and ate some chocolate... It was a completely automatic response.

Not in the best mood right now, maybe things will improve later.

If You Don't Like the Weather, Quit Smoking

2012-02-09T20:44:00.001-07:00

Day 10

I have no concept of the weather anymore.
None whatsoever.
I actually have to remind myself to check Environment Canada or The Weather Network before I leave the house in the morning. There was a chance of flurries today and I was planning on going to school without socks. That would have been real smart, since I already have this issue of being cold all the time.
I don't miss freezing my butt off outside, but I do miss fresh air breaks throughout my day.
Chances are good that I would be very tempted to smoke if I took a "fresh air" break right now in my quitting, and I don't want to take any chances.

I had no idea these even existed. Buy them here.

If I would have known that there was such a marvelous product on the market, I probably would have never purchased it. I definitely did ogle these finger-keeper-warmers when I came across them on Google images, but they do take smoking addiction to a whole new level.
When you start altering your wardrobe to better accommodate your maladaptive behaviour, that's when you really have a problem.

"Duff Man can never die! Only the actors that play him. Oh yeah!"

Short and Sweet

2012-02-08T23:48:00.002-07:00

Day 9

Talking about being a non-smoker simultaneously makes me want and not want a cigarette. Today was definitely better than last night, but it's still tough.
One of the things that helped was cross-fit, or as I like to call it, Murder in the Multi-Purpose Room. I had already run for a half hour and cycled for another 15, before I was "abducted"into a class. If you see me moving slowly and awkwardly for the next couple days, that is why.

Weight Loss Musings

2012-02-07T23:22:00.000-07:00

Day 8: The Late Night Crazies

Holy crap do I turn into a bitch at night. Usually around 9 or 10, when I find my desire to smoke is the most intense. And because I am not allowing myself to have a cigarette, I eat.

Like this, except for the wedding/husband part.

Like I have mentioned in earlier posts, food and I have a terrible relationship. Tyler sometimes worries that I am developing an eating disorder because I try to be so conscious of what I am putting into my body.

The topic came up late last night, for the hundredth time. I like eating and hate throwing up. There is no way I could either become anorexic or bulimic, and being ultra-thin has no appeal to me whatsoever.

I have realized that my connections with food and my emotional eating has led to some issues in the past. When I emotionally eat and do not exercise, I put on weight. Because the scales are going up, My self-esteem goes down. Because my self-esteem is in the toilet, I emotionally eat.

I know that my self-worth should not be directly connected to a number on a scale, but I have worked my ass off in the last 6+ months (literally, I have no butt), and I would like to see the benefits of my hard work for as long as possible.

Losing that 30-40 pounds (depending on the day) has been interesting. For instance, my feet are now smaller by a half size. Weird, right? I didn't think that there was much fat on a foot in the first place, but I guess there is. So apart from giving away so many of my clothes, a lot of my shoes are headed to Value Village as well.

Giving away my clothes was interesting. I had been a 30 or 31 for so many years, that I had accumulated a pretty unique and diverse wardrobe that I liked most of the time. Now that I'm a 27 to 25, nothing that I used to wear fits the same anymore, and I have had to buy a fuckload of clothes. Which is pretty awesome, although expensive.

I'm freaking tired. More on this another day, I'm sure of it.

I Will Do WHAT For Cake?

2012-02-07T00:39:00.000-07:00

Day 7: One Week Down, A Lifetime to Go

Yes indeed, it's been a week. Sweet jesus, I've done it without murdering anyone (that you know).
I'm feeling pretty optimistic, even though I know I've got a long way to go. I realize that the first three to six months will be hard.
Recovery is always the hardest at the beginning, but the more time you have in, the more worthwhile it becomes. And even if shit does get bad, it's important to remember how agonizing those first few days were, and how using will take you back to those days.
Another motivating factor for me appeared today. Without tar and other assorted grossness hanging out in my lungs, I can run. I ran two friggin miles this evening; I didn't even think that was humanly possible for me.
This is pretty amazing and all, but what I regard as running and what you think constitutes as running are probably two completely different things. What you likely think of is Usain Bolt-style running. Compared to that I probably looked like a 40-something soccer mom power walking. But in my mind, for that half hour, I felt like Ben Johnson, before the steroids. Which is pretty epic. I don't think it was the allusive "Runner's High" but it was indeed awesome.

I keep trying to add this picture to my post, but it keeps f-ing up. I don't know why, so here is a photo of Superman kicking smoking's ass.

It honestly took me forever to find something that

was half as good as that "Will Fuck For Cake" T-Shirt.

All those issues with that picture made me lose my train of thought. I was planning on going somewhere with the cake topic, but I have failed miserably at focusing.

So where do I go from here? Well, I'm kind of getting used to this blogging thing, so look for more posts in the following days. I will continue on with my non-smoking adventure, wish me luck, keep on stalking.

Gross thing about quitting smoking #6459

2012-02-06T16:18:00.001-07:00

I still have a nasty smoker cough. Ew.

More Fibre

2012-02-05T22:44:00.002-07:00

Day 5: "Dodgson! Dodgson! We Have Dodgson Here! See? Nobody Cares."
Saturday was good. Hot Yoga, Jurassic Park on the big screen at Chinook with friends, and out dancing with others. And not a single cigarette. Despite how busy my day was, it was to my advantage.
I walked by a person in the parkade at Chinook who happened to be smoking. It was the first time since quitting that I had been within 20 feet of a smoker. It smelled disgusting, but that didn't make me want it any less. Cravings are really illogical and unnerving sometimes.
The only time things got really challenging for me was out at the bar. Dancing in the basement of The Rhino leads to overheating. While almost everyone went out to get some fresh air, I immediately wanted to smoke. That's what you do outside of a club - cool off and smoke. I decided to stay indoors and bust a move. It doesn't really matter if I get all gross and sweaty while dancing, I'm not there to pick anyone up.
Hugh and I stayed out WAY too late though... It was 2 a.m. before I crawled into bed.

The alarm went off at 5:15, welcoming me to Day 6: Lake Louise.
Ty, Hugh and I went to Lake Louise this morning. Holy shit were we tired. Five is an ugly hour. On the plus side, because of Superbowl, the entire mountain was dead. We didn't wait more than two minutes all day to get on a lift.

Actual photograph depicting how empty it was there.

Thank you Football Jesus.

What a beautiful day to carve. Not a cloud in sight, and the only wind I felt was at cruising speed. Although I ate too much of the overpriced and substandard deep fried mountain fare, it felt amazing to be at Louise. Transit rocked out in my ears all day, Life is good.

Six days and counting. It felt weird to not smoke on the chairlifts or halfway down the runs, but I didn't feel winded all day. I'm that sport-ific.

"Mmmmm... Coffee. I'm not addicted, I can quit anytime I want!"

Okay, so the whole reason I called this entry More Fibre, was some sick joke in my head about me needing to be more regular, in the blogging department, not the bowel movements. They're just fine, and that's probably more than you would like to or want to know.

Keep reading folks, it's encouraging. I would also like to see some comments, as opposed to just creeping my statistics all the time, and wondering who is actually reading it. All you need is a Google ID. If you don't have one of those by now, you fail at the internet.

More Like a Raccoon, Less Like a T-Rex

2012-02-04T00:52:00.001-07:00

Day 4: Getting Better

Today is much better. My cravings are not ferocious and carnivorous, but more gnawing and pesky. Kind of like a racoon in a garbage can.

Adorable, isn't it?

Today was the first day in a long time that I didn't have to do anything. And let me tell you, it was pretty awesome. First off, I got to sleep in to ten-freaken-thirty. That was some sort of miracle all in itself.
Hugh and I decided to take in a Hot Yoga class, at Calgary Hot Yoga.
Best. Workout. Ever.
Because my life has been really packed these last few weeks, I was definitely in need of a class. I try to go at least once or twice a week, but had made it to the studio a grand total of zero times in 14 days. Because there was such a gap in my regular practice schedule, I expected to be wobbly and out of breath.
To my surprise, it was one of the best classes I have ever had. Maybe quitting smoking does have its benefits after all.
The rest of my day was wonderfully low-key. Grocery shopping, Butter Chicken for supper, Kicking it on the couch watching Super 8. Which was a totally engrossing movie; I strongly recommend it.
I still think about smoking, usually at times when I would normally smoke. Post meals, mornings, right before bed, after sitting on the couch for long periods of time, you name it. But they are getting more manageable, and I am already seeing the benefits from not smoking (although the scale has been telling me otherwise).

This is generally how I feel, but I manage to keep my shirt on and my moobs in check.

Things are better, but it is not a walk in the park, not yet. Tomorrow will be an interesting test for me, as I will be working and going out dancing for a friend's birthday. Wish me luck, I'll let you know how it all goes. Stay tuned ladies and gents.

FFFFFFUUUUUUUU

2012-02-03T19:36:00.000-07:00

I has this amazing blog all ready to publish on my iPad. It was insightful, honest, and really hilarious.
And then, it disappeared. 300 words of pure blogging genius gone. Cue meltdown sequence, similar to this alarm clock.

But since I do not have a time machine, or the technical know-how to construct one, my blog entry is forever lost, and I will somehow carry on.

Look for another post later tonight about my day, I will do an official Day 4 entry in a few hours, once I have regained what little sanity I have left.

Short Fuzes

2012-02-03T00:50:00.002-07:00

Day 3: Two F-Bombs Dominated my Day Today: Food and Fighting.

I have miraculously regained my sense of taste. Not that it was ever truly missing, but it has returned in full force today. Food is fucking delicious. This is generally why people put on some weight when they cut back on the cancer sticks. Although on average it's only around 10 pounds, I think that I am the one person whose outrageous weight gain makes quitting smoking seem like a really bad idea.

Food and I have always had a troublesome relationship, and now that I don't have a cigarette to smoke when I'm hungry (instead of snacking I used to smoke), it is all manner of snacks, ALL THE TIME. Sweet, Savory, Salty, you name it. I want them all in and around my mouth right now.
My diet has really gone to shit these last few days. I honestly loathe being one of those girls that is constantly "on a diet," but I am. I worked damn hard to lose nearly 40 pounds this past year, and I would like to keep at least 30 of it off.
As for the second F-bomb, I'm one miserable person right now, which is another reason for the eating - I'm an emotional eater - big time. I don't really know why, but all of my filters suddenly disappeared today, and I said a lot of things I shouldn't have. Which has led to a really awesome time with Ty. I feel bad that I am putting him through emotional hell right now, I really do. But there is a part of me that will ignore all good logic and reason, and say something ridiculous and hurtful.
I have been keeping short notes throughout my day of things to write about tonight, and most of them were based around me not being a turbo bitch. Whoops.

Looking on the bright side of things, no matter how badly I wanted to smoke today, I haven't had one. Hopefully the cravings will become less powerful tomorrow. I know this post isn't as awesome as previous ones, but suck a dick internet, I'm quitting smoking. Deal with it.

There are No Nice Words for Being Sweaty

2012-02-02T09:08:00.001-07:00

The last two mornings I have woken up in a Samara-shaped pool of sweat. Gross.
I miss my morning cigarettes.

Everybody's Doing It

2012-02-02T00:45:00.001-07:00

Day 2: Am I the Only One NOT in Flavour Country?

I've made it past the 36-hour mark, and I'm nearing up on 48. Two days?! I deserve some sort of award. Like not getting mouth cancer. Although that would be a sweet award to receive, I'm pretty sure they don't hand those kind of designations out on day two. The lucky SOB's that get those kinds of prizes are most likely people who have never even seen a pack of cigarettes, much less smoked one.
My last pack of smokes had a photo of some poor sap's mouth with oral cancer on(in?) it.
Good old Mexican cigarettes. At $3.80 CDN a pack you'd be crazy to not smoke. I tried to find a picture of the warning label in all of its Mexican glory but stumbled across this gem instead:

I recon I am, ridiculous ad.

I have noticed in my precious failed attempts at quitting, I go through phases where EVERY GODDAMN person I see is smoking, and loving it. Whether they are driving, walking, drinking coffee, tapdancing or whatever. It makes the cravings worse, but only for a moment.

If I have learned anything about doing copious amounts of drugs in my past, it's that thinking about doing something will not hurt me, it's the action on said thought that really gets a person into trouble.

There is a part of my that is really reluctant to let go of smoking, because "It's the only buzz I have left." I've told myself that for years and years now. Ever since I quit drinking and doing drugs, which is nearly six years ago, smoking has been my vice. Everyone gets one, right?

So if I quit smoking, what is my vice going to be? I've been entertaining the ideas of a shopping addiction or eating disorder, but I'm open to suggestions.

Let me know what you think. Leave me a comment. If you're lucky, I will mock you in tomorrow's post.

The Tar Star

2012-01-31T23:15:00.000-07:00

Okay, so it is time for me to quit. Again. Upon coming to the realization that I have smoked on and off for a decade, it’s time to get back on the horse. Or wagon, or whatever the hell I’m supposed to be on. As long as I am not on the cigarettes. I’m starting to worry about getting the eternal pucker lines. I don’t want my mouth to look an asshole. Think about it. That’s exactly what it looks like on a 50 year-old woman who has been smoking for 30+ years. You know what I mean, the tar star.

Day 1: Oh Smoking, I Love You.

I had my last cigarette at 7 a.m. this morning. It was with my morning coffee, two cream one sweetener. I’m going to miss that early morning cigarette; it gave me a chance to get some fresh air, well as fresh as air can be when sucking on a cancer stick. I also get to watch the sunrise and determine my wardrobe based on the weather.

Yeah, I’m definitely feeling nostalgic for my cigarettes, but let me get this clear: I want to quit. I’m sick of constantly coughing, waking up in the middle of the night because my body is craving a cigarette, and I’m sick of being addicted to something that has a really good chance of killing me.

Because I have quit in the past, I know what to expect on Day numero uno. I’m on edge, slightly irritated, and hungry. Actually, I don’t know if I am honestly hungry, I just gravitate towards my kitchen and find myself staring longingly into my fridge. Although it’s fucking full of food, I will sigh, proclaim there is nothing to eat, and move from the fridge to staring in one of the cupboards that is also full of food. First world problems right here.

Another thing that I have noticed today is that I have a lot of routines that involve smoking. A shitload actually. Like driving. I didn’t smoke in my truck, but I made sure that I would have a smoke before actually going anywhere. I would literally stand outside and freeze my ass of to have a smoke, just to not stink up my ride.

More on this tomorrow. I mean it. Prepare for some insanity, and don’t say that you were not warned.

On Watching The Closing Ceremonies For The Vancouver 2010 Winter Olympics.

2010-02-28T23:10:00.002-07:00

I have discovered a new hatred. It goes by the name Hedley. I didn't think it was possible to loathe a musical group this much.

More than Nickleback.

MUCH MORE.

Erin and Ladyhawk

2009-12-12T22:25:00.005-07:00

I've been trying and trying to put this off. But it feels like I can't anymore, it's just getting to be too much for me to all hold in. My excuses have been valid. The last month has been a lot. With the end of the semester and now I'm into finals, I just haven't had time to deal with what I've been feeling.

On November 11, 2009 I lost someone dear to me. Erin Leigh Seright.

We met about 3 and a half years ago at SAS, we were both participants there. I looked up to her immediately.

I remember going over to her house almost every evening and chainsmoking the cigarettes she would roll for me. I couldn't afford TM's on my welfare budget, so I was buying tins of tobacco, and I was completely failing at rolling it into cigarettes. Erin was a pro. We would sit in her tiny apartment and bullshit, while her two children wreaked havoc on our sanity. We lived next door to each other in what we called "The Big Green Box".

For the longest time, we would just hang out and talk. On the occasions that we did go out, we would with her two kids, Ryder and Cadence, in tow.

Since we lived in Inglewood, we had to take the bus to Forest Lawn to go grocery shopping. Usually what would happen is Erin would take Cadence in the jogging stroller around the isles, and I would have Ryder in the shopping cart. It was all sorts of chaos. But I didn't mind, Erin always made me laugh, and we somehow would arrive home intact, all children present and accounted for.

Erin graduated from SAS a couple months before I did, and moved into one of the nearby Low-Income housing areas near the Green Box. It was nice that we stayed so close, both in location and in spirit. After I graduated, my life got busy and so did hers. We saw less of each other, but it didn't diminish the quality of our time spent together.

I don't know how I want to tell the next part of her story. It isn't all bad, but it ultimately paved the way for why I am telling this entire story. It's a strange series of events that broke her.

Erin meets Jakub.

The fall in love.

An over-zealous daycare worker thinks Ryder and Cadence are being abused.

Her children get taken away.

At this time in her life, she was doing all the right things and being an excellent mother, but her past is something that the courts cannot let go of. All the hard work and change she has put in suddenly don't matter, all that is being seen of her life are the dark years. Her time in treatment and her sobriety are irrelevant. Both of her children are put in Foster care. The odds of her getting them back are slim to none.

This destroys her.

She came to my work to tell me. All she did was cry. I cannot even begin to imagine what she was feeling. It makes sense to me, despite how sick it is, that she couldn't stay sober.

For about six months, we rarely saw each other or spoke.

And then, I get a phone call. She's sober, and needs a place to stay for a while until she gets back into SAS. The Erin I go and pick up is not the Erin I knew.

She is hollow and emotionless, and it's frightening. For days, she doesn't even crack a smile.

The plan is for her to move to SAS in Surrey. To get back to British Columbia, and away from all of the tragedy in Calgary. I can't blame her for wanting to leave.

On her last night here, I pick her up and we drive. We go to a casino, a direct violation of SAS rules, but neither of us care. Besides, we were there to eat, not to gamble. It is a good night.

As I drop her off, I tell her that if she ever needs to run away, she can call me. I'll help get her here or whatever.

"Even if it's a plane ticket from Bangkok to Calgary" I said.

We hugged, and parted ways.

Somewhere in my mind, I knew that this would be the last time I would see her.

We spoke on the phone a few times since, briefly and infrequently.

I promised her a tote bag with a gold oak tree on it, but I never got it made or sent to her.

I received word of her death through facebook.

An overdose.

She died with a needle in her arm.

Although there is crazy talk of foul play, I know immediately that it is a suicide, and there is no doubt in my mind.

With her death, a lot of people came out of the woodwork, all of a sudden giving a shit about how I was doing. I hated them all for it. Only now, are they worried about me. It made me so angry, and I still can feel the anger rising when I think about it.

There was a memorial in Surrey and one here, in the Green Box. I didn't attend either.

My way of dealing with her death is a very personal matter. I'm calling the shots on how I deal with this.

I have never had anyone so close to me die, and so I still have no idea how to cope with it. Right now, me calling the shots really means doing nothing but bottling it up. I have only cried once about her, and it made me feel so disgusting that I don't know if that's on the agenda ever again.

When I do think about her, this song comes to mind:

The Dugout

It's safer to stay with your own

It's only a natural instinct

'Cause sometimes the people you fear

Come wearing the friendliest faces

Only to make you feel

You're the last one there when the party's over

And even the person you love

Has turned you away in the end

So tell me the truth of your heart

Please tell me, please tell me

I'm haunting your basement again

Turn your light on, turn your light on me

So tell me the truth of your heart

Please tell me, please tell me

I'm haunting your basement again

Turn your light on, turn your light on me

I'll tell you a dream that I had

I was down at the baseball diamond

And seeing you smiling beside

Watching the moon at the treetops

Laughing and backing away

Saw your dark eyes shine like the city skyline

And then I just sat there alone

Unable to wake up or walk home

So tell me the truth of your heart

Please tell me, please tell me

I'm haunting your basement again

Turn your light on, turn your light on me

To listen to it, go to Ladyhawk's myspace page.

This is all for now. I'm sure there will be more on this topic later.

Group Work

2009-11-10T18:45:00.002-07:00

It's been almost a month again, where does time go?

I'm recovering from what I believe to be the Oink-Barf. I don't know if it actually was The Swine, but I'm hoping it was. Either way, it made me feel like shit for 4 solid days, so a lot of napping was in order.

Life has kept me busy.

I can sum up my first year of Journalism thus far with two words: Group Work. Sweet, wonderful, hilarious, suicidal group work.

Group work can definitely be magical, but I have also experienced its down sides as well. It is all part of the learning curve, right?

The hardest thing for me has been trusting other people and their competence with part of my grade. Although they are few and far between, there are some people that haven't made the commitment to higher learning the way I have, and who are not taking it seriously.

I think it also has to do with the fact that I'm at least a couple years older than everyone, so I feel the need to work harder to earn my keep. I have done my partying and now I'm here to learn.

But whatever. It's about me, and fuck everybody else.

Update: Nothing Much of Anything

2009-10-13T20:43:00.004-06:00

So it's been a month.

My life is being filled up with the predictable: Education and related tasks. Not much of anything is really happening, I'm just living in front of my computer, becoming more and more of a gelatinous blob.

I have been going places and doing things, but not in the last two weeks or so, which makes it feel like I have been isolated, locked in a dungeon with the internet and all of its social media to stave off boredom. Meh.

If you can't tell, I'm looking for something more.

Stupid, stupid, stupid.

2009-09-11T15:39:00.003-06:00

My anxiety is holding me back from so many things in my life. I can't believe the horrible emotions that flooded over me today.

I felt like I was drowning. I was sweating and shaking, I couldn't keep my voice steady, it wavered so much that my eyes began to well up.

What happens when this vicious cycle begins is very difficult for me to control. Once the wheels are set in motion, I feel flustered and then it only gets worse. I tell myself to calm down, to get a grip, that this is stupid, why can't I control myself, this is no big deal. All of these things have a reverse effect on me. I become more unsteady in my speech, more red-faced, my eyes become nothing but tears, waiting to make me look like more of a fool. So again, I tell myself those lines in a vain attempt to keep it all together... and we are back at the beginning.

This reaction, this horrible emotional spiral keeps me away. Away from things that are amazing, things that people love, things that I could love if I could just calm the fuck down for once. I honest-to-god live my life in avoidance of these situations, or the potential for these type of situations to present themselves to me.

If I for some reason, I am obligated to whatever engagement and I cannot take leave, I will end up sobbing, and a complete disaster.

The thing I hate about all of this the most is when it's over. Now I both look and feel like shit. I have successfully cried off all makeup, my eyes are red and swollen. I want nothing more than to go home and hide under the covers.

Funny thing is though, is sometimes, it's no big deal, I can handle it, and I do. Like a pro.

I didn't cry today, but I was about 30 seconds away from it.

What was I doing that brought this on? Asking questions about joining the gym at university.

I hate that something so insignificant, something so small as asking questions can destroy every and all confidence I appear to have.

My insecurities are going to kill me.

Life in Numbers

2009-08-26T18:31:00.002-06:00

It's been over a month since I have written anything. As the summer comes to a close, I find myself becoming more and more excited to get back to college. I was worried that this was going to be another summer wasted, but the past month has been rather fulfilling. If you and I are friends on Facebook or you are following me on Twitter, maybe you know what I've been up to.

1. The Airdrie Air Show. I hadn't seen the Snowbirds before, so this was a wonderful experience. It was disgustingly hot that day, I nearly died. There was a car show as well, 100 cars for 100 years. Most of the Eighties cars didn't even show, my guess is that the owners were too ashamed of them... The Eighties were a bad time for a lot of things.

2. My Littlest Brother came for a visit. Hugh is such a good kid, and I think he is slowly dying inside living at home. He has such a great time here in Calgary with us. The plan is for him to move to here once he had graduated from High School. We went to see Shakespeare in the Park, and did some sweet burn-outs in the Shitmobile.

3. I helped build a roof! Tyler, his father and I went up north to Kinuso to redo Steve's roof. I have to admit that I haven't worked that hard in at least a decade, unless you count the debauchery that the life of a Crystal Meth user entails. But that aside, It was good, honest work. AND there wasn't any internet access, so I also went 7 days without checking any of my Vitals. I only thought about it in the evenings, briefly before I would pass out. Despite not sleeping in my own bed, I slept well.

4. My Birthday. This year, it didn't feel like such a big deal. Tyler bought me a quad-camera, and paid for half of my new bike, a Raleigh with a 3-speed automatic transmission! It's pretty bad ass. I have named it Lee Harvey Oswald. I picked it up at one of those Liquidation Stores here in the city, for less than $200. This is sweet because 8-speed automatics retail for about $1000. The only thing about this bike is that there are no hand brakes, so I'm still getting used to standing on the pedals to stop!

5. My Job. Yes, I still work there. No, I have not grown to like it. I only have four shifts remaining.

6. I am fixing up my Neon. With Tyler's help, of course. On this past Sunday, we spent the day a Pick-Your-Part, pulling pieces off of decaying cars to attach on to my car once again so I can sell it, ASAP. I really like working on it, and I'm good at taking things apart, but we'll see about putting them back together. Reconstructing this car is providing me with the balance that my life has been missing.

Tyler is going to be home from Kung-fu soon, and he's bringing some meat to BBQ. I'm going to husk corn to grill and make up some rice. Guess I'd better get started!

Constructive Summer

2009-07-20T22:16:00.004-06:00

Me and my friends are like the drums on "Lust for Life”
We pound it out on floor toms
Our psalms are sing-along songs

And this whole town is like this
Been that way our whole lives
Just work at the mill until you die
Work at the mill, and then you die

We’re gonna build something, this summer
We’re gonna build something, this summer
We’ll put it back together- raise up a giant ladder
With love, and trust, and friends, and hammers (This summer!)
We’re gonna lean this ladder up against the water tower
Climb up to the top, and drink and talk (This summer!)

Me and my friends are like “Double-whiskey-coke-no-ice.”
We drink along in double time; might drink too much, but we feel fine
We’re gonna build something, this summer.
Gonna build something, this summer.

This summer, grant us all the power to drink on top of water towers,
With love, and trust, and shows, all summer (Get hammered!)
Let this be my annual reminder that we can all be something bigger

I went to your schools, I did my detention
But the walls are so gray, I couldn’t pay attention
I heard your gospel- it moved me to tears,
But I couldn’t find the hate, and I couldn’t find the fear
I met your Savior, I knelt at his feet,
And he took my ten bucks, and he went down the street
I tried to believe all the things that you said,
But my friends that aren’t dying are already dead.

Raise a toast to St. Joe Strummer
I think he might’ve been our only decent teacher
Getting older makes it harder to remember…we are our only saviors
We’re gonna build something, this summer

Fuck I love The Hold Steady.

This song embodies everything I want my summers to be, but I fear that they will be none of these things, and it breaks my heart. But just a little bit.

I feel too old for this kind of thing... What has happened to my twenties? I know that they are only half over, but on nights like these it feels like they have slipped by me, and I missed all the things I wanted so badly.

What are the other twenty-somethingers doing these summer nights? Part of me longs for late nights and tired workdays, sunburns and swimsuits, bicycles and beer. Fireworks and photos. Barbecues and bonfires. Where are all of these things?! I don't think these desires are unrealistic of me to long for, yet they seem so unreachable. My unicorn summer.

Over and Out for Another Year

2009-07-12T22:47:00.002-06:00

I am so glad Stampede is over. Enough with the drunken debauchery, back to normal summertime things.

I made the mistake of taking the train on Saturday afternoon from the North West, all the way to Chinook, the closest stop to my residence. Downtown was a disaster. It certainly seemed like everyone was drunk; in plaid shirts, boots and hats; and the girls all had too much makeup on. It was one hot, slutty mess of Tokyo Subway.

With Stampede finally ending, I can continue on with my summer of miserable work.

September has never looked so appealing.