"we made love on the living room floor, with the noise in the background from a televised war."

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i was being super narcissistic today and taking pictures of myself at work. we're almost moved out of the building. tomorrow is moving day afterall. and i got to come home early. i saw new boy today, i was with my mum, and things are a little akward in that just starting to like someone stage and you're just waiting for someone to make the first move. the first kiss. the first pass. that tense stage. the stage i have a love/hate relationship with. just kiss me dammit!


"i will wait for you, as long as i need to"

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yum! sugar cookies!

i dont know where to start. i dont know what to handwrite into my journal. i dont know what to put on paper with my typewriter. i do know that sometimes i feel on top of my game. and other times my teeth hurt. and im lonely. but only mildly. probably because im bleeding. my bestestfriend here is so good. i cannot get over how wonderful he is. or how much i love him. and that i want to spend the rest of my life with this man. i just will not have sex with him. and he's not for an open marriage. but the cuddling is taken care of. i feel like im rambling and these thoughts arent for you to know. but im sharing them with you anyway.

ive been thinking about the "boy i like with an alcohol problem". alot. and i think that i really like this guy. alot. and that i have a big problem with his reliance on alcohol to "delete" or "numb" his problems. and without pushing his problems aside, because i think it must be validated that he does have these hard, shitty, awful situations in his life, and that while i don't think he is coping well, he is coping. and knows that he is reliant on substances to make himself numb. and "feel better". and that he has to change. and when i talk to him on the phone. when he's sober. he's so bright and lively and i just want to run and find him and tell him that i want to give him my attention. but im not willing to touch someone with a drinking problem with a ten-foot pole. but then i dont believe two things that conflict: 1. that people should change for a relationship. if you cant do it, you shouldnt (but alcoholism is NOT good!) 2. that someone would change, make themselves better, for me. i feel silly giving this wonderful. creative. fun. loving. cute. generous boy an ultimatum. where do i get the right to tell someone what to do with their life? i just dont want to get into this because i do like him so much and he's still drinking to get rid of his problems and i become a crutch. or that he does stop drinking and then i decide that i dont like who he is and dump him and then he gets upset. or i become attached and he dumps me. and on. and on. and on.

or maybe, as a wonderful friend gave me the splendid and solid and great advice today, i should call boys quits for a while. im turning into that teen girl squad girl with her "i have a crush on every boy". and i do. i wear my heart on my sleeve. so much so that i sewed a red heart on the sleeve of my hoodie. you know. just get the point across.


"mr. postman, do you have a letter for me?"

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this evening we had a bunch of beautiful people over for dinner. i made baja baked black beans, plain and fancy cornbread, spinach salad with maple sesame dressing, walnut/cranberry brown rice, and yam fries with rosemary and whole cloves of garlic. it was delish. two friends brought desert: blackcurrant/coconut squares, and cream puffs with strawberries and kiwis (both homemade!). we rounded out the evening by singing some songs, and then playing cranium. it was neat to see how my friends would interact with eachother. i think that i like social experiments like this a lot more than i do parties where everyone knows eachother. i like to see who can step up to the plate and meet new people.

im a little cranky today and in a strange mood that is indicating im feeling crabby towards boy. and probably only because i know i cant have him. and especially today im feeling like i want a partner. someone to be intimate with. not sexually per say, but just someone to "be" with. and i hate that. i should be happy with just myself. there's this other guy that im starting to like more and more, but right now i just dont know if i have the energy to get involved with someone who has a lot of issues (re: drinking problem) that can definitely be worked through, and i can just see him reaching out for someone, attention, validation, meaning. and i just dont know what to do. how to respond. its a little iffy right now. and im bagged. so im going to turn off my decemberists cd, clean my labret out, and go to sleep. oyasumi nasai!


"if you've got something that sheds some light, use it tonight."

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today i wandered around with my camera. it's like my daily photo essay. this is from my driveway at 9am this morning. before i went to work.

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my keyboard. we have a lot of fun together! right now my office is moving to a new building. hurrah!

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standing on the old bridge looking across the river towards town. a few years ago they replaced the wood deck of the bridge with a slotted metal one. before in the winter the snow would accumulate and accumulate. and b/c the bridge is still one way and run on a light. and the light is on a timer. it would take forever for the vehicles to cross. it was a nightmare.

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today is the international day for the elimination of violence against women. we've started the blue ribbon campaign. we're tying ribbons around poles in town. one ribbon to represent a person who reported a domestic or sexual assault to the rcmp since the start of the year. this year our stat is 150.


"with a face that would topple tidal waves"

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i sewed a red felt heart on the sleeve of a hoodie a friend gave me. b/c that's what i do. i wear my heart on my sleeve. and harbour crushes. like grudges. but crushes. for example: when i was in my first year, first semester at SFU i was still living and loving (to me this was the best time with my partner. i mean, i felt that i loved him so much that i was confident to go out into the world and meet people, amazing people, and not cheat. im not saying im a cheater. but it's an important fact and impression of where i was at that time) my partner. that semester i was taking some great classes, and one of those was a special topics archaeology class on northwest coast aboriginal art. and it was lectured by one of my favourite profs in the world, alan mcmillan. so in this class was this cute, non descript guy, who was thirty. wore "regular" clothes. jeans, t-shirts, v-neck sweaters with stripes in the middle. had scruffy short light brown hair. these intense green eyes. wore a canucks cap all the time. and sneakers. he was super skinny. but looked clean. like a "good guy". anyway, not the point. the point is that i was attracted to him with blind abandon. here he was this older, darker, scruffy, already possessing a degree in anthropology from carleton, and back at sfu to get into the museum studies program, which was, and is, now defunct. loved hockey. beer. being outside. his family was from kitwanga and we would talk about living in the north. first nations self determination. aboriginal art. cedar. weaving. he would drive me home after class and we would talk about freida diesing, or about metaphors regarding getting older and not knowing where you were going (his best example, courtesy of his father was, "you're just holding onto the stick a little too tight and it's messing up your game. just loosen up a bit and focus on the whole game, not how you handle the stick." or we'd talk about shows we had seen. wanted to go to. and he lived in new west by the hospital. and i lived on eight, by the skytrain station. and he'd drive past his house, weekly, at 10pm at night, to take me home.

okay, now this is where i think i went wrong. i felt so in love with my partner and so content with my life that the humungous crush i had on this lovely fellow was wasted because i didnt have 1. the confidence to think anything would come of it, or 2. the thought that he was actually worth dumping my boyfriend for when i had worked so hard to keep it going. then today i was mulling. like i always do. about this wonderful man i met who on our last day of archaeology together gave me a book. cedar . all about cedar. and basket weaving. and traditional ways of gathering it. i remember everything about that moment in my life. the squeaking of that rubber flooring in SFU's south aq. the echoing off of the ceiling. that horrible lighting. and him pulling the book out of his oh so sensible black messenger bag and handing it to me saying that he was in a used book shop and he saw this book that i had been talking about and that i had wanted it because i really like cedar and weaving. and i graciously accepted. being too innocent. naive. inexperienced to realize what was actually going on. and the book. it was mint. it didnt have the price pencilled in the front of the book. no nicks. no scratches. new. so nice.


"id like to rest my heavy head down on a bed"

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this is the sunrise this morning. at 8am. ridiculous. so gorgeous. and a little chilly. three degrees. but its not as cold as it should be. there is no snow now. and my huffy breath comes laced with the words, "global warming". another young woman has gone missing up here. on the highway. by someone she knows. its not sure. but it has rocked the community. bctv news flew up here today to cover the story. im wearied by work, but i love the being busy. saw harry potter and the goblet of fire. enter complaints here. whatever. i just want to have my back cracked. get naked and jump in an onsen. like the one in the middle of the rice field in akayu. i miss that one a lot. have someone kiss my headache away. that hasnt happened in a while. i miss that a lot too.


"but its thoughts like this that catch my troubled head when you're away when i am missing you to death"

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when i was in grade eleven my two best friends died in a car accident about a ten minute walk from my house. they were hit by a drunk driver, who was on probation, who was being chased by the police. whenever i have to get out of the "main" part of terrace i have to travel through the intersection where they were killed. the cross we erected (im not religious, but someone who we knew chose it as a symbol) is still screwed onto the telephone pole on the north-west corner. every so often someone still leaves a floral effigy. i havent left an effigy in years. by leaving town so shortly after their death (about two years later) and not actually realizing that i hadnt healed from that traumatic experience, i find my days weigh heavily. im not constantly bombarded with memory of them. memory of their death and the time around their death. most people here that i meet know that they were close to me. these people dont ask questions. ive had to recount the story for someone. and its conjured up a lot of feelings that i thought i had dealt with. and im more and more reminded of my loss. my inability to cope. i want to move on. when i played the transformation game it was suggested that i "lose my attachment to moving on". to live is to suffer.

im learning to play some new songs on the guitar. its a nice distraction. im liking iron and wine's cover of such great heights. another sad song. i sorted some of my mom's old buttons today. they're sitting in chinese food dishes along my window sill. my mum told me a story about a peeping tom that was once peering at her through the back window. warning me not to leave my blinds up, like i always do. so she put them down. theyre not metal or plastic. theyre white fabric blinds. bed time. xoxo.


"when the snow falls this november, i see you and me"

i was just sitting in the blue patterned lay-z-boy chair we've got in our living room (it doesnt match the decor of anything in our house) eating dinner (which consisted of super watered down five alive juice and a bowl of basmati rice with some feta, dill, a grated beet, and a grated carrot) and i was lamenting to myself about how i had a very exhausting day at work today and all i want to do is either a) go relax my muscles in a hot tub (the local pool's is closed and will reopen soon), b) take a long nap and cuddle with someone (not necessarily boy), or c) cry my eyes out, go into hiding, stop eating, and never come out. this my friends is what we call vicarious traumatization. and then it got me to thinking, "hey, i havent said, on my blog, what my job is!" thus, my job is the "Stopping The Violence Counsellor and Coordinator" at a local agency. my job is to counsel women who are fleeing or are in abusive situations/relationships. i am a facilitator for their healing. the other side of the job is that im all over public relations/education/awareness around issues that relate to violence against women. right now we're gearing up for the national day for remembrance and action on violence against women. which is a busy busy time. and today through friday im doing full day training on Supporting Survivors of Sexual Assault. it makes me tired. and cranky. wanting support. and oddly, lonely. im going to go lie down and knit or something to relieve this bad energy. ive also been planning out lots of my essays in my head, the creative writing truck is moving on, and im just waiting until i get paid so i can buy a new cartridge for my typewriter. uh huh. xoxo.


"funny how i found myself in love with you"

all over the emotional rollercoaster. i just want to turn around and say its because i got high. which is nice. i like the babysitting/pot trade. very nice indeed. started snowing today. knit more of my scarf. ate so much food (before the smoking of the pot) and it feels nice because ive spent the last three weeks being so stressed out about boy and about job that i didnt eat. and lost weight. must bust my lazy ass. and eat more. i like that equation better. did i mention it was snowing. cuddling with mybestestfriend (who needs a pseudonym) has been wonderful fun. ive gotten to a point in my life where i am (re)forming these amazing relationships with those closest to me. ive never been so close to someone in my life. my reasons for loving those around me here have doubled, tripled, quadrupled! and listening to talk talk. does it get better?


"these are not my people, i should never have come here"

its getting cold outside. im working full time. ive begun listening to the winter blues music. the martha wainwright. the julie doiron. the decemberists. the joanna newsom. the young and sexy. the endless, countless, bottomless cups of tea. with a bit of honey. the daily consumption of yams. yams as fries with sesame seeds. yams mashed with lime juice. always with salmon on the side. fleece blankets. cold toes in my fishnet stockings. dancing at the redneck bar in thornhill. my mum's friend's band. they covered k-os and fleetwood mac. going thrift shopping. singing death cab for cutie with my mum at our friend's anniversary party. playing the transformation game with friends and discussing our strengths and our paths and all crying while we grapple with our abilities and inabilities regarding coping and healing and finding our true selves. having my tarot read and not realizing that things are coming true on either side of the cards. that im a little slow in seeing these events play out. and my reactions. crush on boy has waned. he initiated a "lets be friends" talk. which was painful. and well received. yesterday was the first time i felt completely like myself with him. and that's after i realized that it wasnt going to happen. still acting like an idiot and ignoring him when he looked the best ive ever seen him. having a fitful sleep trying to eradicate him from my brain and realizing how much shit i didnt get to say or deal with yesterday so it constantly played itself out in my sleep. coughing fits. semi-ok sushi. making new connections with clothing stores to sell my designs. planning out art shows. discussing canvas. buying powder blue wool pea coats at the thrift store for seven dollars. listening to michelle shocked. knitting. genmaicha.


"and in my dreams we're careening drunk down the streets of my hometown"

well, i just wrote the cheeziest letter to the local paper calling on local politicians to try and involve those in their twenties. yawn? nope. all cheeze. i had a final tagline of "inspire us to remain in town, inspire us to come back to our home" or something lame like that. and deleted it. im super exhausted and am going to go downstairs (im housesitting at my dad's. he has a crazy parrot and i swear the house is haunted) and perhaps practise some songs for a benefit im singing at on saturday, and go to sleep. i need my beauty sleep for tomorrow because i have a second interview for the job that i really really really want. and then im going to craft (and draw) up a storm, go on a hot date with all the moms (i love hanging out with the moms) to see some local musicians, and sleep some more.

tonight we watched baraka. i found it interesting that the way they portrayed japan i had never thought of japan in that way. or negatively anyway. i mean, sure there are lots of people in japan that go through train stations, etc. and they "all look the same". so lets edit to a shot of a bunch of baby chickens in a processing plant. hey, they also "all look the same" and get their beaks cut off so they cant attack eachother, thus creating passive chickens that follow the group and dont speak up. maybe its annoying me because its true. or maybe its annoying me because it's so old and japanese culture is obviously deeper than that. grr. xoxo.


"i went out into the night, i went out to pick a fight in canada"

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last night's local all candidate's forum. woot!

today i woke up in someone else's bed. the second time in three days. im going to be brutally honest and say that its actually kind of weird. it feels too good to be true. i mean, i wanted to meet him before he knew i existed. and now this is happening. and its just unbelievable! he's initiated everything. which has been even nicer. we sleep the same way (tuck the feet, flip the pillow, fetus position, back to back...i hate cuddling when i want to sleep!!) and i dont feel silly telling him that i am a canadian history nerd who just wants to be a writer. because he is a writer. it's nice.