Stay Away from the Jitterbug

Well it's been an odd and interesting few days. My computer is in the worst shape ever which means that bloggings might be few and far between. I'm feeling tired and unmotivated, which might be a result of staying up until 3:30am last night in an anxious panic over my malfunctioning computer box.

So I'm back in the Goo and it's been a bit of a rough start. I'm just not feeling so hot. This morning I reflexed my alarms. I have no recollection of turning them off, but they were definitely set properly and definitely turned off when Jess came into my room this morning to get me up. Not so good. Paul Simon has been in my dreams lately, which is just an odd fact about me right now. My dreams have been incredibly strange lately.

I've also been really slow. Mostly in terms of sarcasm. People will say things and it will take me way longer than normal to get them. Or I'll answer seriously and mid-answer I'll realize that they're being sarcastic. I'm a little scared that I'm losing my magic powers of humour. Maybe I just need more sleep.

Tomorrow I bring the Bell ad to the WRC, or the Poon Shack as I like to call it and try and get me a feminist posse rolling.

It's the Last Midnight

Staying in bed until four makes saying goodbye harder. Or maybe saying goodbye is just hard.

After Steve left I watched Shark Tale and The Terminal. Very odd combination. That's sort of what happens when my mom goes to Rogers and I'm all alone with my brother for the evening.

I'm in a bit of a dizzying eye-popping mind-frame right now. I'm freaking out about tomorrow. I have to remember to go get some money for a cab when I get there because buses don't run on Sundays in the Goo. The bus ride is going to be packed too because all the Torontorusks turned Gueljivers are going to be heading back from reading week.

So yeah, the week is ending. As per usual I'm sad and scared about getting back into Goo world and all of it's stress. I am planning on getting the Women's Resource Centre at Guelph behind some angry letters to Bell Sympatico about that add though. At least I'll have an update for meeting on Tuesday.

On a strange note, I just remembered that there was a talking rainbow bird in my dream last night and it was my friend and I was having actual conversations with it. Wierd.

Maybe it was the chicken?

It is now the Thursday of my Spring break. I spent all of last night and today with Phantom and he dropped me off tonight at 11:30 and my body just spasmed into anxiety. Not good. It was all going so well. Even Tederick commented on how things seemed to be going well. Now my stomach has completely twisted and I can't even sit up straight. I just want to cry. I am so ridiculously overwhelmed I can't even describe it. I don't know what to do. It seems that the things I want to be doing with my life right now are going to be all but impossible for the next three years.

This semester is going all to quickly. As much as I'm looking forward to this summer I'm so ridiculously shocked at how quickly time has been passing. I have absolutely no control. There is nothing I can do. Apparently I'm not okay with letting go of the wheel. I don't know if I can be okay with it. I'm heading into this last quarter of second year not knowing when I'll see Phantom next, not knowing how I'm going to get through all my assignments and not knowing how to mold my summer jobs. I'm scared and I'm sad. Plain and simple.

Oh Corsica, one day I'll win you over.

Phantom's car hates me. I swear one day she'll challenge me to a battle for his love, and likely she'll win, for she is a car, and I am squishy. Tonight, as soon as I got in the car she started playing crappy music, and as soon as I got out, Floyd came on. Phantom is convinced that she's jealous because when I'm out of town she gets him all the time, but when I'm here I steal him away and distract him from her. Very likely. I know he sweet talks her when I'm not there. I guess fair Corsica has every reason to hate me, but I do hope that I'm never devoured by her passenger's seat in an attempt to be rid of me. I guess I'll know if she's won if I come outside and see Phantom making sweet sweet love to her in my driveway.

Dear Jessica....

I can't believe you love Pride and Prejudice. This book has made me nap more than James Joyce! Okay, maybe that's a little harsh. That freakin' Joyce almost killed me, this is just like trudging through three hundred and ninety-six pages of blather just to come out dishevelled and grumpy at the other end. I keep thinking of you and your excited face and almost crying because you love it so much. Alls I can say is, you'd better come up with some brilliant snacks if you're going to make me watch the six hour movie version! Today alone this book caused a three hour nap. That's skill! Though the warm warm chihua doesn't help. I'm on page 256 right now and I'm cursing your name steadily after every ten chapters. :o) The 1800s just aren't my bag, baby.

Delhi Belly?

I just got an e-mail informing me that I have to chose my courses for next fall between March 15th and March 24th. That's way too soon. My goal for picking a major and deciding on India is now March 15th. Let the panic begin!

I'm terrified. In terms of a major it's all a matter of balancing everything I want to take and squeezing it into how ever many years I now plan to take to do my undergrad. No shame in that...

And India... I just spoke to a woman who went on the trip they ran two years ago and she told me something along the lines of "you will get homesick so bad that you think you'll die, the heat will be so bad you won't want to move and you think you'll actually die from dehydration and heat stroke, you'll get so physically ill that you think you're going to shit and vomit yourself to death, you will definitely have to go to the hospital and you will have to shit in front of someone to prove you have worms... but once you get over that you'll love it."

I just have to find a passion for the trip that will help me get over that. Because right now even the homesickness part seems like quite the obstacle.

"I'm a word person"

I just finished reading "Seedfolks" by Paul Fleischman for my children's lit. class. I loved this book. It's the story of an innercity community garden told from thirteen different perspectives. It was so sweet and so pure and yet it dealt with racism, being an immigrant, old age, loneliness, fear, teen pregnancy, child abuse, healing and sense of community. In less than a hundred pages this book was entirely effective in getting it's message accross.

Everytime I read a text for this class I am moved to write. I want to write something that some child or young adult will pick up and be able to take something new and apply it to their lives. I want to effect change through words. I feel like I have so much to say, I just don't know how to say it yet.

I think that this book was particularly stricking to me as it is reminiscent of Spiral Garden, my summer sanctuary. If everyone could experience just a little bit of time in a place like that the world would be a better place. My parents did something right when they chose which summer programs to involve me in. I'm going to be twenty this summer, and it will be my fourteenth summer at the Garden and at my overnight camp. Every year I deliberate over which location will get more of my time and effort. Reading this book left me feeling entirely invested in going to both locations where my roots are firmly planted. I suppose I just wait until age and finances rip me from that sacred soil. Just not this year.

Just because you're a lesbian, doesn't make you any Less of a Bein'

Last night I was all restless. I kept thinking of people and projects and things that I have just forgotten or left behind and it made sleeping very difficult. Good thing I have Pride and Prejudice to help with that. Man I hate that book. I've hit page 170 of 396, almost half way there. I want to be done. I feel like I'm wasting my time with all this reading and then napping. I have way more interesting plans to get through, and I can't do them with this stupid book hanging over my head. I guess I should just enjoy spending the day on my couch, but there are so many other places to be lying down! And it's freezing in here!

I hope that somewhere, somehow an essay is being written right now...

Playing House

This past week has been amazing. It was a real week with lots of work and lack of sleep and business but oh the socialness of it all! Monday night I had a Valentine's day party which was so filthy in so many ways, Tuesday night I went to see a tranny one person show, which was awesome (though I was in a shitty mood), Wednesday my Phantom showed up and we made dinner and then later went to a dance party (that was sort of lame, but I'm glad we went), Thursday I wrote an essay and then partied with Phantom, and Friday Matt and Kate came over for a ViewAskew-a-thon (though it wasn't really an a-thon because an a-thon has to include at least four movies, this was a double bill), then this afternoon we rode home together on the Greyhound and then took a nap in Phantom's bed.

Having Phantom stay with me was incredible. It was so nice coming home to him, and not coming home and hoping we'd both have enough time to talk together. Everything was right and perfect and immaculately snuggly. I don't think we went to bed before 3am once all week. I'm ridiculously impressed that I actually made it to class. I'm very sleepy now, but this past week was amazing. I can't imagine that my own reading week is going to go as well! I suppose I could just get some reading done, but snuggling is so much better.

The Curse of The Artist

Last Weekend...

Friday was an extremely bizarre and intense day. I missed the bus to class, so Jess and I watched the Creek all morning. All was well until I got downtown and I was walking towards the Greyhoud terminal and I passed this couple who were presumably fighting. I heard them coming from two blocks away. This wasn't a two sided fight though, this was a man screaming at a woman who was walking quietly beside him with her head down. I have never heard such hateful yelling, cursing and name calling. I kept looking around to see what others were doing about it, but no one said anything. The couple was probably in their late twenties, early thirties and they were passing these middle aged people who weren't saying anything. I was scared. He was spitting out those words like blows and as I walked past I felt like they were forcing my head down too.

I was so mad at myself. I should have at least made eye contact... or something just to check in that she was okay. If my life were a movie I would have pretended that I knew her and we hadn't seen each other in a while and asked if she wanted to walk me to the bus station just to catch up a little. But I got scared and I got frustrated that all these adults were just letting this go on. I mean, even if someone had told him to keep the swearing down because there were kids around, at least it would have broken up his anger a little. I was just too scared.

I slept with that all the way back to T-dot. I arrived half an hour earlier than anticipated, so I went into the Arrivals Terminal to call him. I'm not sure why that arrival terminal even exists. It's like a ghost refuge. It's always ghostly silent and the most bizarre people are sitting there waiting. They're not waiting for a bus to leave, presumably they're waiting for one to arrive. I doubt they really know what they're waiting for.

I walked the length of the building to the payphones interrupting the visual beam of all those sitting around me. It wasn't until I reached the end that I saw everyone was staring at two cab drivers yelling at eachother. The scene took place silently because of the arrival glass seperating the lost souls of arrivals with the violent reality taking place just outside. I have no idea what the men were fighting about. That's my second fight I've ever really witnessed. My second fight of 2005 as well. These were middle aged men kicking each other and punching each other and throwing each other into traffic in order to smash heads into passing vehicles. And there were the citizens again, watching. A security guard came out and broke up the fight. They made the men get back into their cabs and wait for the cops. I called Steve.

I didn't feel comfortable going outside quite yet, so I sat down to listen to the silence. I sat two seats away from this woman who must have been in her early thirties. Her long brown hair was pulled back into an elementary school type ponytail. She wore a grey puffy jacket, a floral skirt, dark green tights and galoshes. On her lap was a shiny ready heart shaped box of chocolates. She fingered the chocolates slowly, dancing around the empty ruffled paper wrappers surrounding those that remained. When she had finished a chocolate, she closed the box and giggled to herself as she traced out the name "Russell Stovers". Then she would repeat the process.

I left the arrivals terminal. The land of lost souls doesn't take long to suck the life out of you. I stood on the street corner in my own world. I was completely shaken up by my afternoon. Phantom had to drive by me and yell out my name to get my attention. It took a little while, but he brought me back to myself and we had an amazing afternoon. We went to Kama Sutra yoga which was incredible. I haven't been in that space for so long. I needed that kind of healing yoga goodness after the afternoon that I had had. Plus holding hands with someone you love during final relaxation was amazing. Feeling the breath and energy of that person as your body resonates from all the poses was comforting. (Feeling them fall asleep is funny too!) After yoga we had a coffee with Matt and Kate which was excellent. I'm really looking forward to more hanging out next weekend!

Steve and I ended up going downtown for a late late greasy dinner, which wasn't good for my stomach. Before we caught the vomit comet home we went to a Tim Horton's so Steve could get a snack and we could use the washroom. It was like night of the living dead homeless people in there. There were about five men and one older woman (looked like she was seventy) with their heads face down in newspapers with T-Ho's garbage strewn around them.

My dad calls it the curse of the artist that I see these people and I desperately want to know their story and tell their story. It physically hurts me to see how society has failed these people and that anger and violence and loneliness seems to have taken over their lives. Why can't we just step in? I'm tired of being afraid.

When we finally got back to my house, Steve and I hid underground on my floorbed for thirteen hours straight. It was warm and safe and comfortable, the exact opposit of most of my day. I suppose I have to learn how to balance taking care of myself and saving the world because if I get to involved in one side or the other I just end up sad and distraught.

Overcome with the Horn

Mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm.

A Valentine for my Vagina

They're vibrating sugar-free gummy dongs! And they are so pretty!

I think they're making fun ot me, but my wife is very sick

This has been one hell of a weekend. It's too late right now to fully do it justice, so I'll recap tomorrow. But it was intense and wonderful and anxiety ridden all in one. I'll get to writing along with all that V-day business that is upon us.

Where are your pants MacLeod?

This morning a pantless Jessica lured me back into bed and away from our 9:30 class. I tried to take the opportunity to finish the Virginia Woolf book we had to read for this week, but I ended up falling back asleep and having a reality dream where I woke up with Phantom. I was so shocked when I actually opened my eyes that he wasn't there that I was in a sour mood all afternoon.

After class I went to the gym for almost three hours. It turns out that reading Charlie and The Chocolate Factory on an exercise machine while not being allowed to eat chocolate and not having eaten anything but a banana and a muffin all day is a bad bad plan. It was like I had accidentally played a cruel trick on myself.

Tonight was good though. Jess and I went to watch our good friends Mel and Joel perform at the Bullring along with about twelve other camp people. I remember being at camp when I was about fourteen and hating highschool and thinking about how great it would be to merge my camp friends into my school world, and I can't believe it's actually happened.

Can you dig it?

Today was not great. I started off kind of shakey and then went to get blood taken, which didn't help. The woman I got this morning was a "digger" meaning that she poked me and then missed, then poked me and got the vein, then lost the vein and proceeded to dig through my arm to try to get it again. She ended up only taking half a phial, which is no good because I'm going to be mighty pissed if I have to go back and do this again.

I spent the rest of the day sort of dizzy and nauseous which is not pleasant. I'm currently planning for an early bedtime tonight in hopes that I will feel better in the morning. I'm trying to get ahead in my work this week so that I can spend next week slacking with Phantom. Damn this different universities and their different spring breaks!

Burnett!

Holy shit. Rob and Amber are on the next Amazing Race.

Hyper-I-Cum

Tomorrow I go in for what will hopefully be my last bloodtest in a while. I was wondering today what they do with my blood after the test it. Do they have a special blood sink they pour it down? Or do they just toss it? What if some wierd blood-fetishy nurse, doctor, receptionist, or custodian gets a hold of my blood and has sex with it? I need to know what they do with my blood!

For some reason tonight I had the urge to put on the RENT soundtrack. It's been a long time since I've had a listen. I think it's partly my wierd longing for the days of elementary school. I do miss that elementary school. That whole structure of knowing where you were going to be all the time, and the social dynamics of being with the same group of people everyday. I just miss knowing everyone, and feeling like I had a solid place of importance in my academic world. I miss recess, I miss secrets, and I miss walking home from school. The more I settle into new phases of my life the more I really miss the old ones. I go through these moments of crisis where I miss things like babysitting. It's a strange feeling, like I want to be clinging on to the past, and yet I'm doing my best to enjoy the space that I'm in now, because three years from now I'll likely be whining that I miss the Box.

I could drink a case of you

This weekend turned out to be busier than I thought. I had an amazing Friday with Phantom followed by a hungover-still-drunk-in-the-morning kind of Saturday. My parents came to visit yesterday afternoon. They brought the dogs, they made some soup, and they bought me a sweet desk chair. Hopefully that will fix the vibrator legs. It was nice that they drove up just because they miss me.

Last night I had this overwhelming urge to go back in time and write all the things that I've been meaning to write since september. I got 25 pages out of me and then had to stop due to it being three in the mornining and my need for sleep. Today I have to write a Philosophy of Feminism Essay and I have to read a Virginia Woolf book. Both tasks are too challenging. I'm determined that by the end of the week I'll have written everything down and I will be ready to move on. It's so bizarre to me that I've put off writing for so long, but I guess it happens.

Here's the essay question. Why aren't all women feminists? Comments?

The Prince of Egypt

Yeah I did Moses. But all I ended up with was a burning bush.

Shyness is a Tool of Patriarchy

Today was good. It was a good day. I got through everything I needed to do and I think I did okay. I was actually social today. I had lunch with a group of camp people that I haven't seen in a while and I went to this India dinner. One of my biggest fears when I came to University was that I'm incapable of walking into rooms filled with people I don't know. It happened when I was ten on my first day of school I couldn't walk into the lunchroom because I was scared and someone ended up taking pity on me and taking me to their house for lunch. It happened in highschool when I was to scared to walk into a room for the first meeting of a club (I don't even remember which one now), but apparently that doesn't happen anymore. I was nervous, and I definitely stalled so that I wouldn't be the first one there, but I walked in! And got a laugh with my introduction. So suck on that shyness.

I think I'll major in smut peddling

Today I have a midterm and a meeting with the scariest radical lesbian feminist prof I have ever had. She's hardcore. I just hope she doesn't make me cry. Today is going to be very odd. I just feel like I'm on a different plane.

I'm going to a dinner with my prospective companions for this India trip. I figure I might as well meet a bunch of them before I make a decision. My few friends who are also going are completely shocked that I would even consider not going. My goal is to make a decision by the end of February. I'm scared of the trip. I'll be honest. I'm terrified. It's a huge financial, emotional, and physical commitment and I feel like I need to be really passionate in order to make it all worth while and as of right now I'm not feeling it. I'm scared of being in a totally different place with no communication with home. I don't know. Is twenty really the right age for a life altering experience? I'm not so sure my life is ready to be so altered. I go back and forth from thinking that four months is an eternity, to maybe it's not that long. I would just miss a whole semester of my Guelph life.

After all the pondering I'll be doing today my reward will be a night with Phantom!

Gotta Knuckle Down and Just be Okay with This

Waiting. Waiting to get better, waiting for test results, waiting for tomorrow. The word of the day is waiting. I don't want to go to school. I feel exhausted and heavy and sad. As soon as I leave the house I have a solid amount of work to get through. I meant to work this morning, but instead I couldn't get out of bed. So having a shower was actually a great accomplishment.

I'm aiming to leave in 24 minutes. But I don't want to. It's all about will power. I got some things done last night, just not enough. I was preoccupied with doctor stuff and dizziness and I'm finding it's harder to focus when the room is spinning and your ass is vibrating.

I finished reading Charlotte's Web for my Children's Lit. class last night. At the risk of sounding cliche that's one excellent book. I think it was my third or fourth reading of it. I haven't read it since I was about nine, and it was really nice. Just comforting and warm and nice. In all my attempts to become an adult reader, I feel like I've neglected all the books that I loved as a child. I've left them as children's litterature, and I just haven't re-read them because that was a part of my childhood. I've recently decided that that's really dumb. Why not escape back to my favourite books? They don't take long to read and they make me happy. I feel like this Children's Lit. course is going to save me this semester. Though it is week four and I'm still on top of all of my reading, which is pretty amazing.

As per usual the end of Charlotte's Web made me cry (but only when I read it out loud to T.J.) and it made me miss a lot of people. That is one effective novel.

"It is not often that someone comes along who is a true friend and a good writer. Charlotte was both."

Pass Me That Raisin Doob!

Man do I love that Kevin Smith. I would have killed to be a half naked prom queen falling into his arms. He's just so good. So horribly excitingly good. I'm such a nerd. I can't wait until next week! Oh that bearded fat man.

Fuggets

It's been a week of no cheating on my crazy diet. It's going okay, except for the ridiculous vibrating pain in my stomach. Hopefully that will pass. The only minor slip ups I've had involved fake chicken nuggets (or fuggets) that had some wheat in their breading, and a few instances of honey ingestion. I think I'm doing pretty well considering I've never done anything like this before.

I don't feel different at all though. Which is fine, except that I loves my instant gratification. My body is still sick and wierd, and I haven't lost any weight. I just kind of feel hungry all the time, and then feel gross from eating too much trail mix. But I found out today that my favourite restaurant on campus will make me a sandwich on my special bread provided I bring it!

As I was leaving the gym today I went and got a soy milk chai latte and realized that I've inadvertantly become a yuppie.