Apathy

I don't feel like blogging here. I take that as a bad sign. A very bad sign.

Home again

Yesterday the computer ate my post when I tried to spell check. And the font is really big. And I miss Montreal. I miss it so much, and that is what my last post was about but it was eaten and now I can't be bothered to rant about things like that again.

The gist of the thing, and it was much more eloquent last night after two glasses of wine, is that I don't think I can leave it. I miss everyone so much already, and knowing that I can live on the cheap... I don't care what I have to do, I just don't want to leave. Suddenly it is home.

This city is making me strange, restless... I can't bear to think of coming back here for good. The people here don't know me like my Montreal contingent. There I am free from the past, free from what I'm expected to be. This city stiffles me, I can feel it turning me back again already. Back into something I'm not.

I have to go, I can't even articulate my thoughts here, it must be the warm weather.

Homeward bound

Here, my house is dirty, I have not found the time to clean. I know that this exam will be the most mentally upsetting three hours since... well since my economics midterm at least. I told my Bostonian last night that I had given up. He was understandably aghast, and demanded to know what our professor would have to say about it. So I trekked in the cold wind to his house to study some. It was strange. He is so frighteningly intelligent, I feel like speaking to him puts me in way over my head. They were so well prepared that it made me panic a little, but I am beyond panic. I will write this exam in the same haze that I have been wandering around within all week, fly home, and sink into Vancouver like a familiar friend. I know her wet streets are waiting.

"I've been down here before

All my bones and joints are sore

Find my way out of the wreck again

I've been down here before"

Twenty-four to go

Okay so it is t-minus twenty-four hours until J is picking me up to go home for a much-needed break. Today I am lonely. I think its because I spent the past twenty-four hours with constant company. It was really nice, but now the void is gaping. I guess I never realized how relatively alone I am in this apartment, and although I know that living with people is a little crazy, I can't help but wish I had somebody here to distract me and cheer me up a little. I had a really amazing day, despite not doing any work and now feeling like I will certainly bomb my exam. Went skating with J and Co. (and although, sadly, there will not be any Drummer lovin' for me, there isn't any awkwardness either), followed by dinner, a bit of light reading, a split bottle of wine and copious amounts of beer. I've always firmly believed that a good party will end with stories, and this one did, so I come out of it satisfied.

Its cold here, winter finally settled in with a blast of icy wind and gusts of snow. I slept badly last night in a strange bed, comforted by being able to share it. Perhaps that is the reason I feel so lonely: feeling an arm around me in the night, waking up next to someone... I was reminded how much I miss it. Does this make me weak? Am I somehow diminished because I prefer to be with someone? I can't tell if it does, if I am, or if that is just the way I have been brought around to think. And anyways, what is wrong with wanting to have someone to wake up with?

I almost caved and called Roomie to stave off my loneliness, stopped only by an unwillingness to put myself into that position again. Because I knew that if I asked him back, then I would be diminished somehow, inside. I would know that I was weak. Still, I miss his smell, his rantings, the way he smiled in his sleep. The way he would cuddle up to me in the night and put his face right up close to me, our noses almost touching, his arm over my waist and his hand in mine. How under the covers and the cover of darkness, it was safe to reveal that side of himself. That is what I miss. That is why I am lonely.

Gotta get it done... gotta finish...

Gnnnnnnaaaaa. This has surely been one of the most unproductive and frustrating days of my life. Starting last night, when my decision not to get too drunk or to stay out too late became standing in the doorway of my apartment at 9:30 to pick up money and cigarettes with some coworkers, followed by a traipse down the road to Bifteck where we continued the party. It was a good time, and I'm glad I went.

Of course, not to be outdone, Roomie and Apartment Boy had to be there, with Friend, who I'm sure has heard everything. We couldn't even escape by going upstairs, because they followed. It was good to see him. After we kind of talked things through last week, its no longer awkward (well, no more so than I expect three weeks post-break-up), although he did call me a poser at one point, prompting me to drop my cigarette on the floor, and he still seems quite hung up on my friends 'hating' him. I explained how ludicrous that was, since they are not really friends, they are coworkers, and although I spend time with them at work, they do not know the intricacies of my life.

I tried to explain to J this morning how it feels to talk to him. There is still something there, so we are still friendly, clicking personality-wise and all, but both know that it won't work anymore because he decided he didn't want it to. So we are two people who get along and are attracted to each other, catching ourselves falling into a too-friendly situation, and extricating ourselves only to return there half an hour later. I would look up to catch him looking at me, he'd stick his tongue out and I'd make my mock indignant face... he would take a shot and catch me looking at him, and we'd smile. Its weird, its tough, and it got to a point where I had to leave before I jumped him.

Speaking of jump too, I had two male coworkers putting on some type of move... one of whom makes my skin crawl mildly and the other whom I adore, but not in that way. It came to a head when I was playing pool with the latter, waiting for him to shoot while gazing across the bar at Roomie (but trying to look like I was watching my partner shoot). Coworker one puts his arm around me and starts rubbing my neck. This is not cool. I tense up. He is all 'how are you doing?' with me, knowing the sitch, and I am all 'get that hand off me'. So my pool partner shows up, sees my face, sees what is going on, and forcibly throws his arm over my free shoulder and pulls me towards him, murmuring something about his future wife (an inside-running-joke thing). Whew. Close. I was later called 'stunning', which was surprising because I felt like ass on a stick. Call the little red wagon, I need to be taken home.

After slowly but surely walking my way home, I curled up around a cheese pizza and willed myself to stay awake long enough to sober up. Somewhat unsuccessfully. I should have gone out tonight to the party J was pushing, but alas, I am here, unproductive and writing in my blog. I told myself I'd get through the last 3 chapters of this book, otherwise I couldn't leave the house tomorrow, and that would make me sad. Back to the book!

Exam burnout

I just don't want to do it anymore. I can't imagine that any amount of studying will improve on the mark I would get if I wrote the damn thing right now, and frankly I'm starting to wonder why I didn't just take the early exam and be damned with it all. I should have taken the early exam, then I'd have six days off to sleep and eat and get high and not worry about studying when all I want is to sleep, eat, and get high.

Which brings me to the conversation I had with Curly earlier today, as he called to bid me farewell before swooping off to Toronto for his holiday. He suggested that the entire purpose of academia is to make us feel badly about ourselves, and I am inclined to agree. We are a self-selected upper percentile of the population, and of that self-selected, university-going group, we specifically here have been selected on account of being the upper portion of that group. Every level of education merely serves to whittle the group down to smaller and smaller levels, while convincing everyone in it that they are not quite achieving the level of academic brilliance as they could. Because of course we can never be perfect, but we know that when we see a percentage, it is naturally taken out of 100. And even though we can't get 100%, we see that flimsy grade and think "wow that's low". Despite the fact that I go in knowing that everything I do is going to be marked out of 85, I can't help but feel terrible about myself.

Curly is right, we are here to have our self-esteem chipped away. Well, I refuse to base my concept of self-worth on the number I am assigned based on the amount of work I do. I also refuse to spend every waking moment worrying about that sort of thing. I will have my slack semester next year and I will love it, and you can put that in your academic pipe and smoke it.

Oh look, in true virtual model style you can create your very own virtual model. Fun times. Check it out! Okay so they are not scary-thin, and no they can't walk around to porn-style tunes, but hey, at least I'm not a half-vampire... did you see the half vampire? God. Go back to the virtual model site and find the vampire girl.

Walking

There's nothing like an unseasonably warm December day to put me in a fantastic mood. Its because of the walking. Its my favourite thing to do, and as soon as winter sets in it becomes unpleasant and treacherous, so these days I will take any warmish weather as an order from above that I should strap on my walking feet and get out there.

Today was no exception, and I itched through my history notes all afternoon, just waiting for the last page so I could hop out of here. I took myself shopping and spent some (as yet unearned) money, but was so good at restraining myself. A little pre-Christmas-exam-period treat never hurt anybody. There is nothing like wandering the streets at rush hour either; cute boys, smiling faces, good music in my ears. Really puts me in a great mood to study all night.

Oh but I have motivation, do I ever! J's party, which I'm just tickled pink about, and the fact that my mark on this exam probably won't change if I put in an extra 24 hours of study. Tomorrow there's the bookstore dinner, and then I will cram all weekend until Sunday night. Good plan, such a good plan.

So another brilliant day in Montreal, another intellectually stimulating afternoon, another brisk walk through my favourite streets, and another thing to look forward to. Life is damn good.

Procrastination Post

I told myself I'd get through all 13 weeks of notes today, and I've done up to October 6th. I officially suck. But at least now I have an excuse, as Roomie finally finally came by to drop off my things and now I'm thrown into that 'gee he looked so good' and 'man I am so ----- right now' and I'm endlessly distracted. Not even my vibrators are going to help this time. Why do they always look so good when you can't have them? Christ, I mean, he had even shaved... and damn... damn. Damn he looked so hot.

Its been almost four weeks since I last had good sex... not that the last few times Roomie and I had sex was bad, but it wasn't amazing, mind-blowing sex. It was always good. Ahhh. I have to stop. Okay. Think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts, think unsexy thoughts. My history exam. *shudder* man that's unsexy. I am starting to lose my mind.

Which poses difficulties for my plans with Drummer. Providing there are plans to be had. I am still waiting to see what pans out. But frankly, if that kiss was any indication... ahhh think unsexy thoughts. Well my plan was not to sleep with him. As things stand right now... well I would have slept with Numoy last night if she had been a man.

I have to go work. This is getting out of hand.

Meltdown

I am in full exam meltdown, my body has more-or-less crapped out on me, culminating this morning when I could barely drag my feverish, swollen-throated ass down to health services. I just hope it has peaked.

I'm also freaking out about getting everything done, God knows I have learned not to dick around with my time, but even so I am finding less and less time to do things in. How can I be more efficient and less knowledgeable? Right now I don't have the energy to update. Exam tomorrow, I'm going out (low-key out) with Numoy tomorrow and then hopefully getting rid of my work shifts this week so I can focus on history, which I'm mildly freaking out over as we speak.

I have to drag my sorry ass into bed, hopefully to wake up in a better state than yesterday, to read review and write my exam. Hooray.

My feminist rant

Okay, so I'm usually on a feminist rant of sorts, but this one angered me enough to share.
If you will, check out the Miss Digital World site, its a beauty competition for digital women. Oh look, yet another way to keep us feeling terribly about ourselves.

Not only are all of these women disgustingly disproportionate (don't believe me? Please search all the 'models' and look at their bios, measurements are included) they are generally scantily clad, and just enhance the terribly unrealistic expectations that are placed upon women every single day. Not one of these so-called 'women' are natural. Yes I recognize, thanks, that this is a contest for digitally created, and therefore fake, women. It makes me so angry I can barely type coherently. Oh and another thing, their facial expressions. I'm sorry, but why is it that in order to be attractive, women these days are expected to have some slightly angry, pouty, distant, superior kind of look on their faces? What happened to good old-fashioned smiles? Since when did smiling become unfashionable? Apparently teeth are out this year.

I feel sick to my stomach just looking at this. Are we a sick society? Maybe not, but I know a lot of girls who are sick because of these sorts of images. I have friends, stunningly beautiful, intelligent, sexual, strong women. Women I admire, women I love. Women who think they are unattractive because they don't fit that mold. Women who cry about their bodies, which I think are beautiful, and who cannot hear me when I tell them. Women who disregard it most of the time, but late at night, alone, will stare at themselves in the mirror and wish away their stomach, their thighs. Women who are twisted inside and can't figure out why they feel so empty.

I am lucky, I have never had to worry too much about this, I've generally been slim, and as long as I watch what I eat most of the time I will hopefully stay that way. But in the past year I put on ten pounds. People tell me I look better, but I can see my body is different. I can see the slightest changes and I hate them. Ten pounds! I am freaking out about ten pounds!! And now I catch myself questioning what I eat, thinking about how I look more often. It disgusts me and yet I can't help thinking about it. I look at myself in the mirror sometimes and wish my ten pounds away. Why am I so obsessed? Look around you, look at the women in magazines, on billboards, in movies, walking down the street with their collarbones protruding a little too much, their cheeks a little too sunken. Look at Miss Digital World.

You can see it everywhere, and as soon as you start looking it becomes all too frightening. That face that we've come to identify with beauty? That distant, disinterested stare? That isn't sexy, that is starving. Women don't look like that because they are beautiful, they look that way because they are wasting away, mind, body and soul, to look skinny enough for you to think they are beautiful.

So here is where I get off the rant, because I know that I am beautiful without my old body. I know that we are all beautiful as we are. I look at my friends, at the women sitting around me in class, and think how stunning we all are. Beauty is not about bodies. No diets, no starvation, no collarbones. I know, deep down we all know, that the most beautiful women needs to do nothing but smile.

Back on the horse

Ah the horse, its my favourite horse really. That little stomach flip when your eyes catch, the electric jolt when your knees touch under the table. Pure and sweet, that innocent first kiss... okay on a busy street corner while mildly intoxicated, but still innocent and magic and oh torn away too soon. Heh.

I had an amazing day yesterday. Amazing. Which is great because my next few are lining up to be filled with books books books. First was the children. Oh their little faces, their hands in the air, it was incredible. I never thought once before that I would enjoy teaching, but they were so eager, so smart! So excited about everything we were saying. I remember my first environmental lesson when I was ten, and it changed me so much. If even one of those kids feels that way, has been changed a little inside, enough to make a difference, well then everything is worth it. It restored my faith in the future, diminished somewhat my deep-rooted fear that we are all going to hell in a handbasket and nothing can stop our decline. These children are the future, and it'll be one hell of a future.

Dancing around like a moron with Jess at a mostly-empty bar on Papineau, it was carefree and a great release... I don't usually dance like that without a few drinks in me. Then we all piled into the car (note: five seater jeep, one drum set, two guitars, seven people) and trucked down to Bifteck. I only mildly lost my shit when Apartment Boy AND Roomie showed up, together (yes they are friends, but I am not ready to deal with that particular mess just yet), and I managed to wander by, say hello, give hugs, ask the right innocuous questions without sounding like a total fool, and inform Roomie that I still wanted my books back. He said he'd call me, and in my head I'm thinking "yeah fucking right". At least I looked hot.

Then there was the flirting, the hidden hand holding, the kiss... and I've been thinking that I am hopelessly attracted to jerks who will hurt me, but he doesn't seem to be that type. *sigh* but we didn't exchange phone numbers, so I probably won't see him again until their end-of-term party next weekend. Ah well, some things are worth waiting for.

Speaking of, I must get back to my books, because some things refuse to wait.

Free!

Free from economics forever! Yay! The exam went passably well, I should be able to squeak my A- provided that nothing goes awry, and if it does I will whine about things. Mmmm wine.

Some bad news for me though, as I shuffled through the freezing rain up to the piercing shop to discuss my swollen ear. He figured that I had a bad reaction to the soap they gave me (free because they loved my persistence), because I hadn't hit it or slept on it. The good news is, not infected, the bad news? I had to have my lovely orbital removed and replaced with two rings :( Very sad. So now I have piercings I didn't really want and that I don't really like. Its what I get for deciding that this one was my favourite except for my nose. The moral of the story is: if you have enough piercings to know what to with them, just do what you do, don't change it. So now its back to my soap in the shower and hopefully soon I can get the lovely-ness put back in. Got up this morning and the swelling has gone down significantly (no more redness!), so I'm looking forward to getting this healed up so it can be pretty again.

Hmmm, what else? After the ear incident I was in a lot of pain, Numoy came over for the greatest chat. We always have amazing talks, but this one was better than usual... the evil girl talk that two slightly bitchy girls can get up to knows no bounds. From making rings with our fingers to illustrate points to the finer aspects of moral superiority, our conversations generally run the gamut from innocently charming to downright immoral. That is one of the reasons I love her so much: we know each other well enough to know we are on the same moral page, and that neither of us is in any position to ever judge the other, which allows for brutal honesty, which makes for a great friendship. Reading this, I know she will roll her eyes and recall the first time I got sappy like this on her. Well I said it once and I'll say it again, "You're the best neighbor ever"

So must get my ass in gear to teach children about the environment. Go children. I'll update later on my teaching debut.

Fight me like you do...

I have new music thanks to Krista, who downloaded freely while I was out on Friday night... there's no better gift. My new favourite songs include 'Plea From a Cat Named Virtue' and 'Combat Baby'. The latter is particularly close to my heart... uh... or something, since I feel like it captures how I've been feeling about things lately. Heh, there, for some insight into my psyche go download it. Got some unsought advice the other night when I escaped the club and ducked into my local on the way home, and even though I probably won't take it, I wondered how much my advisor had been told. He knows more than I have told him, that is for sure.

My phone just rang and when I picked up nobody was there, now my curiosity is overwhelming me, especially because I'm expecting phone calls. Basically economics has hit a huge wall and I don't know if I can study anymore. Its ridiculous, utterly stupid and ridiculous. Ugh. So I'm insane, and cold, and craving a cold beer and a lazy evening. Instead I have an 8:30 study date and I'm anticipating another late night and early morning.

Ju left this morning, I will admit, I feel more strange thinking about my upcoming departure than I felt anything about hers. I know we will see each other again, but I was amazed at how calm she was. She said it hadn't hit her yet, since she has flown out of winter in this city four times already. Makes sense. I could almost feel my own grief welling up, and now as the cold kicks in with eight hour days, I wonder how I will ever tear myself away so gracefully. Given she has had eight extra months to come to terms with it.

I can't even come to terms with economic models of development, let alone my life. Last night I got bored and started looking for apartments in London. I figure, if nothing else comes together (and even if some things do) then I will move there, because honestly, when else in my life can I do that? Options are endless I suppose, and I will do anything but live at home. I can spend all my money on travel, and have adventures... sounds like a good plan. Ah who am I kidding, I can't even plan next week, let alone next year. Here's to flying by the seat of my pants.

Winter

It has been snowing for the past few days, on and off. My winter blues are kicking in, and nothing seems to be quite in place anymore. I hear the disjointed wailings of my soul, she doesn't quite know what is right, but she feels that this is wrong. She is right.

I miss him, as awful as it is to feel that for a man who infuriated me most of the time, made me rage some of the time, treated me poorly occasionally and generally acted sweet and kind and lovely enough to negate all of that bad. But yet here I am, unable to study and wishing he'd drop by for a visit, wishing I could call and explain it all away, wishing he'd change his silly stubborn mind. He is so proud. I want us to be friends.

My nights all blend together, time flies and yet I cannot keep track of how many days I spend in twenty-four hours.

Last night I walked up St. Laurent, fat snowflakes drifting through the red Christmas lights, swirling around the trees that line the sidewalks. Snow like that is stunning. It was cold, my new piercing ached in the wind. The bright storefronts, the cars, the lines of well-dressed South Shore girls lining up for pretentious clubs, it was all what I was used to. I walked slower than usual, ignoring the leers from men in cars, lost in my mind. I gazed into our bar, seeing nothing but a sea of unfamiliar faces, straining to catch a glimpse of his form, bent over the pool tables. I can still smile to see in my mind's eye, the reflection of the table lights off his cheekbones. it is the one image that stands out, from the first day we met, and played pool even though I warned him I was terrible. That and his voice. The night he asked me to be his girlfriend, and I was the one freaking out, panicked but touched as we spooned on my bed. Holding hands, his breath on my neck, surrounded by the smell of my shampoo and cigarettes. But he regressed, and I was drawn out, tricked into coming through my shell of pain and self-preservation.

And even as I say "Never Again" I know, that one smile and I would repeat it all. Its worth all the pain to smile with someone for a while.

Charging through the gates

So I've been incommunicado, sue me. Life has been... well... shitty. Since Saturday I have had a bad run of days, and I'm hoping that they'll come out soon, I'm sick of feeling bummed out. Dumping aside, well, its not just that of course, there is always more going on.

Last night I spoke to Ray for the first time in months. He claims it hasn't been as long as it truly has. I wish he could come out to Montreal, I wish I could be there for him. Its not like we're either of us bad friends, just that stuff always gets in the way.

I have been feeling so restless, pensive, thoughtful, angry, ambivalent about life, about school. I am alternately irresponsible and anal, cheerful and miserable, always crazy and always spastic, jumping through life's hoops with a grin and a tear. Five minutes of stillness is extensive.

Secured Friend's email address today, I refuse to let her go even if he has cut me out. I have no hard feelings, its the first break-up where I really believe I could be friends. The scary part is that there was nothing really wrong, and frankly I worry that things will develop as they did before when we tried to be just friends... so perhaps friends would be impossible... or lovely. Ugh.

Speaking of, I have been going through stages that I know well enough by now to identify and mull over as I am experiencing them. It is almost like floating above my body and laughing at myself and how predictable I am. Right now I am stuck on "thinking of all the things that were good, ignoring all the bad, and feeling almost certain that if x or y hadn't gone down as they had, things could have been perfect". This is ludicrous, because frankly, when we were together I never thought anything would be perfect. I am aware of the silliness and yet cannot shake the sense that if he would just call and beg me back it would all be perfect. Which is even more ridiculous, because frankly I don't know that I want him back. Although, as I said to Ju today, I have now been spoiled and don't expect to find anything comparable in a very long time. Boys our age just don't seem to have that down.

Speaking of, I can only assume that younger boys know even less. Today the Bostonian (first appearance explanation: boy in my class, terribly sweet, almost too sweet, used to catch him looking at me) called me on looking 'down' in conference... how could he tell I was staring out into the pouring rain and contemplating Roomie? Apparently some people can read me like a book, even those I don't know very well. We walked down the stairs and chatted. He is so young, and so sweet. We have a tentative study date. Check your V-Cards at the door please.

Last night I hit Jello with J and Daniel, and his mother. As J pointed out, there is nothing like soul music to soothe an aching heart... especially live soul music like this. It was a lovely night, except the part when J offered me a cigarette and I spent the next few minutes feeling like my mother was watching me smoke. J didn't understand, he joked that maybe Daniel's mother wouldn't want me marrying her son anymore. Frankly, I didn't think it was that funny, and anyways, its my own guilt at wanting a cig with my Manhattan that I'm projecting. But as 'Na said this Saturday "You got dumped, you deserve a cig". You said it sister.

As we pulled back up to my apartment at 2am, the entryway dark since we had lost power while I was on the phone to Ray hours before, I gave into J's good natured prodding and agreed to meet his roommate. He has been plying this guy on me since I started dating Roomie. So this Friday I will be rushing from cramming to dinner with coworkers to J's show, since his roommate is the drummer in their band.

Here's to new adventures, and the joys of single life... I am sure that in a few weeks, all I'll be missing is the mind-blowing sex.

My new hole(s)!! The bottom was nothing but the top hole was brutal! Twisting the ring to get it through the top hole and putting the ball on was perhaps the most painful thing ever. I'm having it turned next week so the ball is on the front, will post again when I have it done.