Restlessness

I am getting sick, that slow dragging sense in the back of my throat screaming at me to stop drinking and smoking. I've told that part of my body to buck up, given it some fruit and water, vitamin C and echinacea. This week is the election (beer to either celebrate or commiserate) and a trip to Foufounes to pretend to be hardcore. Not to mention my trip this weekend, so I have to be in good health.

My phone rang a few minutes ago, expecting Roomie I was less-than-shocked to hear Curly. Opinions among my friends vary, and frankly I am inclined to listen to Jonah (ever-wise, Jonah and I had a lovely evening last night, and he is a good sounding board for man-related things). Anyways, Jonah is a proponent of the 'two file' model, that Curly has two files on me, and whichever seems viable will be left open. Fine by me. Roomie is moving into unfamiliar territory and I can't bear to let myself get sucked in after him.

Right now I have three papers on the go, one research, one long and tedious, one silly excuse for a paper that will take ten hours tops. Not to mention some overhanging obligations. Off to JSTOR

Realism

Watched the moon eclipse last night with Jonah and Daniel... best quote was, "Wow, that' s like, our shadow up there man. If we had really giant arms, we could make shadow puppets."

Needless to say, drugs were involved.

Realistically, Numoy is the best friend ever. Pointing out the truth is always something I need from my friends. Krista was even better at this while I was freaking out, and Numoy just has that special brand of love.

I have made a list. This is not too much. This is manageable. I will prevail. This weekend I just have to work, instead of freaking out. There's the hard part.

Highlights of my day include:
- Getting my Quebec driver's license, take that graduated licensing!
- Having a 'chat' with Roomie, conclusions? I still think men suck, and on top of that am still in the position I was in three days ago. At least I had myself heard. But now I really want to see him.
- Going out for dinner (future dinner) with Rajeev and his mum. Yay.

-

I'm insane. Utterly incoherently insane.

Whether its senioritis, lust, infatuation, neurosis or a combination of the above... I have utterly lost whatever sanity I had. The worst thing is that the things that I want to do to make it better would actually make it worse. Much worse. They are already pushing the envelope.

I cannot do anything, I cant' focus, I am totally unmotivated and insecure.

I can't handle this.

I want...

I want a phone call, I want my work to be done for me, I want a backbone, I want my life back, I want to freeze time, I want this to be over, I want a phone call. I want him to read my poetry and love it, I want my poetry to be worth reading, I want my friends to be here forever, I want some people to go away. I want a phone call.

I want true love, I want true love to wait. I want to do what I want, I want to mean what I say, I want to know the truth, I want someone to be waiting at the other end, I want to feel loved.

I want some cheese, but I'd rather have chocolate, I want to eat things that are bad for me, I want to drink beer, I want to run amok. I want a good halloween costume, I want to boycott altogether. I want to be able to dance.

I want a phone call. I really want to hear that ring. I want to stop wanting it so badly. I want my concentration back. I want to be secure in this, and I want to be known as such. I want to be seen and to hide away. I want a phone call.

Out of town visitor insanity

There is always the joy of having a visitor from out of town come to stay in Montreal. There is double that joy if this person has never been to Montreal before. Montreal is fun, its crazy, its something unlike anything most people have ever seen. It doesn't make sense... like that last sentence.

I had a visitor last night, my friend Jenna, whom I met one year ago on a terrifying drive into Montreal. She's lovely and good fun, so out we went to paint the town.

Basically I now feel wretched, having drunk myself silly Thursday night to forget all about my awful crap terrible midterms. Then, showing Jenna around, naturally involved getting her (and myself) dead silly and running around Montreal at 3am. The night was complete: Cheap dinner and BYOB wine, Boreale, Bifteck and of course, dirty dancing at J-Room while avoiding even dirtier men. Ah what a night. Woke up late and had a grungy breakfast, of course.

Tonight, tonight I miss Roomie. He and I almost had our first fight last night, avoided only by his unswerving good humour and recognition that in fact, he was to blame. I, of course, apologized as soon as I realized what a brat I had been... He has invited me to join him and some chick friends in town from Toronto for someone's birthday. I really want to go to see him, but I'm scared of the girls and scared of the cost and scared I won't have a good time being scared of the girls and basically hating dancing and not wanting to get drunk and knowing I have to impress them because I'm his girlfriend and they have all heard the shit from Apartment Boy's ex ex. Sigh. Neurotic is so much work. Why can't I just be comfortable? Why can't I just dance like I do in my house? Like I want to do right now to this wicked song I just downloaded? Maybe I will have a good time... maybe I'll have an amazing time... maybe it'd be nice to get dressed up... ahhhh who am I kidding. I'm a neurotic mess and I hate clubs. Plus, I am so pickled right now.

Studying pays off

Yesterday I was a bit hysterical. I have never studied so much in my life, and in fact, I studied to the point of temporary insanity. It was the biggest, thickest most solid mental wall I have ever hit in my entire life, and it happened during my fifth hour at Second Cup. I didn't make it to six. Basically, I had my head in my hands, poking Roomie with a pen and laughing maniacally. Then I lay down on the bench and closed my eyes for a while, then I played Barrel of Monkeys. Then I took myself home and played Spider Solitaire for an hour. It was crazy. I have never felt so burnt out in my life.

I managed to get back on the horse, have had five hours of sleep, have never studied for an exam so much in my life and now have to go write it feeling like I don't know anything. But I had a good omen! Upon entering WebCT, I checked my grades for my Psych midterm, lo and behold! Score! Swish! Amazing! Shows what some mediocre last minute work and incomplete reading of the textbook can do for you! Screw you midterms! I'm coming out on top this year!! Mwahahahaha!

Like a beautiful Godzilla

Should I be jealous? Should I be insecure? I see patterns developing and hate them. But knowledge is power, and knowing in advance that I will fall out of my insecure bullshit is kind of nice.

Work is breaking me. I can't even begin to think about thinking about something other than school and Roomie right now, and frankly, as much as I love them, my coworkers calling me at night to ask me whether they are being unjustifiably angry is not a good way to spend my time. I was happy to help, but we are all justified in our anger at being treated like slaves. As we said today on shift: We are so utterly replaceable that they can afford to treat us like shit. If we won't take it, we can be replaced by someone who will.

Tonight I spent making love to economics... ew. Krista and I managed to come up with some fun things though, as well as coming to greater understandings of economic models and whatnot. Our professor is a turkey-monkey, "Gobble, gobble, ook, ook" and while Solow likes his runny pancakes, Romer is convinced that he can spontaneously generate pancakes and open a Dutch Pannekoek House in Kenya, thus solving world hunger problems. Oh, and my proverbial tea ass says "Procrastination is like masturbation, great at the time, but in the long run you are just fucking yourself."

Addicted

I have become a creature of the night. I do not sleep until 5:30 in the morning, and drag myself out of bed around noon. I slump through my afternoon sipping Tim Horton's coffee, and blindly fish leftovers out of my fridge. I burn my food and eat it anyways, I am operating on automatic. Around eight I get tired again, and have more tea. At ten I want to go out, and get wired off beer and good company. I dip at 2am into exhaustion, and find a third wind, pushing through until the lights come up. I come home and get high, and crawl into bed as false dawn breaks.

This life is no good, I try to break the habit but I am addicted. Even here, in my empty room with economics textbooks strewn around, I can feel myself starting to itch. I don't really remember how any of this happened, but here we are.

I tell myself I will get through the night, then my fingers walk over to the telephone and dial it of their own accord, I do not know his number, but they do. Tonight will be the same, and I am sure I'll be up until five again, sleeping til noon. Its worth it though, when you're operating on borrowed time, every second counts. I should know.

Hopeful

To negate my last post... as much as everything is old and haunted, everything is new and beautiful. I cannot remember how anything else began, because I am here at the beginning again.

I've been listening to one song over and over again. I want to go out. I need to write my midterm. These lyrics resonate throughout me, and I can't stop hitting play.

"Where I am"

I remember him. I can remember the words and the actions, but the sensations are dulled by time. My smiles are hollow in the photographs, and I stretch for the emotions I know were there. But I would go back to him. I am so scared I will never find anything that perfect again. I was told last night that I was perfect, perfectly imperfect. And I smiled. Words flow through me and past my lips. I can kiss them away.

And the only thing keeping me dry is where I am...

you seem so out of context in this gaudy apartment complex"

And I recall the visits. The time, the distance, the hurt. I don't want this anymore, but I would live it all again to find truth. I recall the last visit, I know the awkwardness, and this song speaks it all. I want my phone to ring so I can turn it off and leave, not look at the papers strewn throughout my house and forget for a while that there was every anyone else but him.

"And I am finally seeing, why I was the on worth leaving"

Tainted Love

Something that was new is old again, something old has returned in my rebirth. Everything we touch is tainted. A hand that feels different, fingers meshed in new ways, and my search for familiar spaces comes up empty. It is not his hand, and I am tainted.

Every breath is new and old, every kiss a different moment. Each time his lips touch mine I cast back, his hand on my face is strange, foreign yet familiar. This will never go away.

The rest of my life will be spent with ghosts, silent whispers of the past impeding my present. He is lovely and amazing, I am tainted and twisted and strange. I vacillate from one extreme to the next. "I have never met anyone like you before" and it is true. At the same time, his voice on my machine is suffocating, the plans for tomorrow both invading my life and making me smile.

I want this, I do, I love it. Yet, yet here I feel wrong, it is wrong, I still love. I am not cleansed from before, my past is still wicked. I wonder if this is my new status quo, if everything I touch from now on will be somehow haunted, or if it just means I am not ready yet. But it is already too late for second thoughts, I'm in this now.

"If it ain't here it doesn't really matter where you go"

And yet I cannot help but feel so guilty, like I hiding something from him... but how can I hide something I don't know myself?

Worst Blogger Ever

Yeah I'm sorry, I'm sorry that its been so long, but since Friday life has been mental.

I have been trying to get as much work done as possible to make time to see the boy tonight (he's been away all weekend). I realised while washing dishes that I missed him.

Must run now, as I took the time to shave my legs and am now late for class. Bah.

The plan for today is hectic and I probably can't write again. Stupid group project inefficiently taking up my time!

Maybe it is speaking after all...

This morning I had the Hits-Moi shakes. Ah the shakes, my favourite after-effect of a night of drinking. Waking up after six hours of sleep, I realized I wasn't really hungover, but alas, as always, the dehydration shakes were kicking in. I vibrated into the shower and down to the streets, and shook my way through my afternoon and my shift at work. Hooray.

Hits-Moi being my new favourite night out, two weeks in a row of drunken dancing with my brilliant girlfriends definitely constitutes a favourite. Ah so. Its too bad that Roomie couldn't make it, since he'd already headed home for the long weekend.

And my opinions regarding the titles? Rapidly improving! It seems that absence does make the heart grow fonder. I miss him already, strangely missing something I didn't realize I was so attached to. Although... Rower showed up at the store today... Rower, who I constantly see on my way to class and who I thought had forgotten who I was (I know, tough to do, but two years later?). Anyways, I found myself, when confronted with his smiling questions about my wellbeing, promising that next time I saw him en route to class I would stop him and say hello. Ah me, where does all of this come from? As Krista said? When it rains, it pours.

Here is to thundershowers, and here is to me, looking forward to Tuesday like I never have before. I am back in an old role, and struggle as I do to avoid it, I cannot help but fall.

Incoherent Muttering

Its kind of strange. This subtle muttering that maybe things aren't quite as they should be. And here I am, running later than usual, thinking that maybe I shouldn't have pushed the envelope.

But what's done is done, and things have come full circle, and I'm back to where I thought I wouldn't be. In a time without letterman jackets and class rings to exchange, what is in a title? Why do some words feel different?

"I like you" is so close to "I love you" that it feels strange falling from my lips.

Entry by rote

Nothing interesting that I'm musing about actually. The usual suspects of course.

I'm too tired and have too much work to do right now to be eloquent, poetic or otherwise put together a post that doesn't come across as dull. Crazy dull. So, I'm not going to try.

Tomorrow I've got (for once thank God) a fairly easy day, four hours straight then home by 2:30, to study and prep for my midterm on Thursday. This week is already flying far too fast.

Right now I want to sleep, and I'm cursing my professor for this silly weekly summary of readings I haven't been able to do yet.

This is what I get for choosing Roomie over work yesterday night... then again I'd been pretty good up to that point. Speaking of choosing... Roomie has a choice to make as well, and I'll worrying all weekend about it.

Insights abound, tomorrow will be better, promise.

Ribbed for her pleasure... eeeewwww

This post is entirely for my own self-satisfaction. Don't bother reading it unless you are procrastinating or something

Damn you Bell x3
Back to school... I got my lunch packed up, my boots tied tight, I hope I don't get in a fight!
Hmm, to flog the dead horse or not... you know me... I never know when to quit
And back again to... oh I don't even know anymore
Maybe I should have a chaperone... oh wait, I did, and she abandoned me!!
Fuck Him.
Fuck him. Again. Finally.
'NUMOY SAYS' - Basically I wanted to cry, but couldn't because was about to have sex...
Seeking: Safe sweet guy who won't jerk me around... ha, who am I kidding
You're not the one but you're the only one who can make me feel like shit
Was that a dream or did that all actually happen...
And so ends the longest two weeks of my life
The word I'm looking for here is wastebag, the sound I'm looking for is uuuuunngh
He is sinewy and shiftless and so forlorn, Between here and there and everywhere he is torn
Make it last for an hour, we'll never feel this way again...
I guess its official!! Woot! 21!
I'm 21!! Come out and celebrate tonight at St. Elizabeth's!
thanks everyone for a great night... well, what I remember was great...
I wanna say what I mean and mean what I say, I just need something to mean anything
Crazy how you make it all alright love, Crush me with the things you do
It's crazy I'm thinking, Just knowing that the world is round
She gets sad when there's nothing goin on, she says it makes her feel damn worthless.
I am just waking up in my own way...
And its been a while, but I can still remember just the way you taste
The surface I am scratching is the bed that I have made
I am the rake. It is extreme, uncontrollable and dangerous.
Basically some bum of a person
Some bum of a person who wants to go out
Some wastebag... oh Numoy you are my favourite person ever
Sonofabitch... hurting and working
Fat Charlie the archangel slumped into the room
"Delores, I live in fear: my love for you's so overpowering I'm afraid that I might dissapear"
Work: In bed til noon, breakfast, tamtams, pot...
Do seasons changing stir old feelings and in conversation, does my name still come up?
Happy Camper
2.5 Hour phone conversations = good. 2.5 Hour phone conversations at 3 am = bad.
Numoy can't resist the Gino D... I can resist the D...
If you can afford the eggs, you can change the attitude
Somebody get me some eggs
Which of the bold faced lies will I use? This new diet's liquid... but it will do
VIP Pant Party!! Numoy, you're invited!
hey model, its 12:04, wanna f*ck? I mean... have any beer?
Fuck you McGill
Why do i do this?
I want to be the heart for which you fell
Its UterUS not UterYOU
Got the Hits-Moi shakes

Up to today. Love it so much, I think I will make it a regular thing!

Breathe in, breathe out

Count to ten. Ignore the pounding in my head from lack of sleep. In fact, ignore everything except the slowly rising panic within me. But don't freak out. For the love of God don't freak out. Okay maybe freak out a little, then have a beer. No beer. Okay freak out.

Well, I'm not quite there yet, but I can imagine that it will happen soon. I've had a blissful (read: better than the worst case scenario) afternoon. Spent some of it at Tams with Roomie and also saw Blonde Boy twice... twice?! I know, I know what you are thinking, and I was thinking it too. His telephone number still perches upon my cork board, scrawled drunkenly on a piece of the yellow pages. I resisted the urge to call it. Am still resisting. The Roomie/Apartment Boy conflict is scheduled to come to a head sometime this evening. I am awaiting a phone call.

The worst thing about tonight is that I am being forced to go to a restaurant where my only dining option is slab of cow. Now, I know I am not militant about my vegetarianism. In fact, I'm pretty damn laid back about it. Actually the other night I ate something that might have once been part of a cow in my poutine. But gravy does not have nearly the same effect on me as a large piece of what is clearly animal muscle. I have been told I don't have to eat it, that one of the boys/men we are going with will eat it. That is not my problem. I have a problem supporting the restaurant, I have a problem with its juices running over the rest of my food, I have a problem with a meal that has no identifiable protein and I have a big problem with the fact that pieces of meat make me want to vomit. There is something that has become so terribly unappetizing that I fear I will not be able to deal with it... sitting with four other people who are eating it. The very thought is making me feel ill. They can do whatever they want, but I don't want to have to see it.

The problem is that getting out of it is next to impossible if I want the next week (potentially much longer) of my life to be at all bearable. Okay maybe I'm being a tad melodramatic. But still, I feel like I am between a rock and a hard place here. Can't I just skip out on this one? Its not like they have nobody else to go with. Why does she refuse to accept that this is something that makes me very uncomfortable? I am pretty sure I will get there and freak out.

I will try soon to fix things, but likely I will spend tonight drinking overpriced wine and trying to appear normal while secretly wanting to run away and be silently sick.

A day like a grasshopper

After work I cleaned. I should have been doing schoolwork. I should be doing it right now. I should be freaking out about all the work I have to do, but strangely I feel calm about it. Everything else right now is taking up that part of my mind that worries about things.

Roomie: There is something there. And Apartment Boy won't relent and his admission to discussing the matter with Roomie#2 has prompted my boy to do something about it. I am waiting for the fallout with all my limbs crossed. The fact that this has come through as it has is not surprising, but honestly I cannot help but feel terrible: As low as you go indeed. I feel worst about losing Apartment Boy, because I know that Roomie and I are in it. I wish he would just sit and hear me out, but alas, he is much happier being a brat and upset about it than attempting to fix things. I hope that they can patch it. I will end up sitting up tonight worrying about them.

Visitors: I enjoy them, but right now I wish I could work all night. I am on a bit of a kick and if I were on my own right now I would brew some very strong coffee and be up until 2am. Unfortunately, when their movie ends (the noise of which has been impeding my work for some time now) I will have to go to bed. At least I will get a good sleep in preparation for tomorrow. They are meant to go out tomorrow afternoon so I can get some things done then.

School: Must become more efficient with my time.

There is so much more going on in my head right now, but I am not feeling particularly articulate, and all the Better Than Ezra in the world cannot help me. I want to grab my guitar and practice some, and maybe do some more work. Here's to sunshine tomorrow.

Too Early

Its too early for this. Too early for me to be up, and I'm not nearly caffeinated enough to deal with customers. I have to rush out of the place so I can go by Tim Horton's and get a coffee the size of my head.

After two sleep-deprived nights, instead of being responsible and going home after work yesterday, I escorted Numoy to celebrate... well she had just written a midterm, so it was a little like celebrating. Problem was I talked her into hitting a second bar after the poutine (so good, so good and so so bad) and didn't get home until three.

And now, now I have to work until three and somehow pull myself and my apartment together for six. Ugh. I will definately need a nap.