With Fingers Crossed

It has begun. Another tomorrow has arrived and the world has not ended. I really just think of the new year as another day we are blessed to be alive, I suppose it isnt much of a milestone in my mind, although I admit I like the closure it represents. I like things to come full circle and for chapters to end.

So I begin this next chapter of my choose your own adventure with my fingers crossed. I think this year is about to be crazy. Without knowing much of anything that will happen I already have plans to see snow, something I miss in epic proportions, and then to do placements in 4 hospitals and to graduate and to sign a contract for a job. Those are all kind of largeish things, especially the snow part. So I have my fingers crossed that I will be brave and that I will be able to rise up to these pages that are growing up and preparing for a career. This time I cant just back out and go back to school, I am going to step into the real world. So I want to make the most of the last year of my student days. I am not going to hold back and miss out on the small but monumental things.

As motion city says, with fingers crossed their will be love.

One Thousand Nine Hundred and Eighty Eight plus Twenty Three

The year is about to end. It has less than two handfuls of hours left in the place where I reside. Year endings always make me reflect. And in this reflection I often come to many conclusions and realizations.

This year started out with my house flooding (which I will reminisce about on my floodiversary), and is going to end with a quiet night to conteract that chaos. I think thats not what I want to write about. This isnt a recap of my year, thats what Christmas letters are for, and I dont do those, mostly because it would be boring and I would likely just send it to my Mum who would mock me for it. So that isnt what this is.

I feel at peace with this year. Dont get me wrong, this year was hard. I spent most of it being under the weather in unfortunate circumstances it seemed but  really that doesnt matter, except that it has made me so much stronger. This year kinda battered me up a bit. It was like that one part of a fight where I was losing but then somehow didnt get knocked out. But I look back and I am okay with it. I learned so much about how you cant do everything alone and that even though I am excessively independent that sometimes I need people. I learned that you cant trust everyone and that not everyone really cares, but that when you find people that do care that you shouldnt ever let them disappear. I also found out that I am more stubborn and set in my ways than I realized, I like things a specific way and I dont really like other people doing them differently. I also think I found a lot of myself this year. It was a year when I introspected and found out what actually mattered and decided to focus on those things regardless of what it made me lose.

I am happier now. I feel less burdened with things that made me less of who I want to be. I feel less insecure. Two Thousand and Eleven was really hard, but I have stopped waiting and wishing for days and fifty two weeks to be awesome and I have started taking control of my own life and making those days and weeks what I want. I realized that if I want things I need to work and fight for them, habits dont just form and people dont just change.

I have already begun my resolutions and I am stoked for this year. Even if it's really hard again that will be okay, I can handle it. So farewell year, I am ready to move on.

Your Letterbox

I write a lot of letters that dont end up posted. Some I just write in my head over and over and over and some I write out but leave in notebooks or crumple up. They are always full of words I want to say but dont know how, or dont know if I should. I tend to put my foot in my mouth or come across the wrong way because I get so awkward around feelings so I usually just write it out, and then dont send it.

This is the note I keep scrawling over in my head today.

Remember how we randomly met at a wedding and then you fb stalked me and asked me out? Well  I had a boyfriend but immediately after receiving your message I broke up with him. I figured if I was that excited to actually get to know you I shouldnt be dating someone else. I think the point is ever since that first time we chatted you have impressed me and intrigued me and I constantly wonder if you realize how epically great you are. You changed my life on your porch steps. Thank you. I wish I lived on that continent so we could awkwardly hang out more.

Maybe I will post it to you one day. I wish I was brave like that.

Opening the Letterbox

Time passes and people change. In the season of embracing change and striving to become someone better and less obsessed with the past I decided it was time to move on. Time to actually let myself step away from the past and to build a life where I am. So I walked away from my blog that held so much heartache and longing for people and places that were no longer mine. I want to say this will be different, that I wont have ridiculous posts are boys that are so wrong for me or wishing for snow when I live somewhere so far from that, but that wouldnt be true. Inside I am still the same girl. I still miss home and am dying to be in love, but this time I am a little more grown up and actually ready to move on entirely. Welcome to my letterbox. May you find words of love, laughter and encouragement as you tread along your own journey.

A Fork

I havent been writing on here as much lately. It is not because of a lack of thought. I just sometimes look across this page and see a lot of the past. And things are the past for a reason. I think I am trying to dwell less on the past and more on now and building a future. And sometimes I dont like seeing the reminders of history. I think I am at a fork in the road unsure of what way to go.

Colour My Life With the Chaos Of Trouble

Stagnancy is unproductive, it accomplishes nothing. So the second that life starts getting mundane and days become the same I start looking for changes. I look for something to bring me excitement, to get my heart racing. I am at that point. I like the idea of not going to uni all week but at the same time it is not scheduled. It is open. It has too much time that is disorganized and that leaves me unsettled. I like consistency. Of knowing what each day holds and then trying to add to that. I am at that point. Days feel the same.

And today was the same as any other.

I need change. It is as if I crave some short of chaos. Something to make me work and think but also to add thrill. I want my life to be coloured with the chaos of trouble, as long as it is trouble I can handle.

An Organ

I like organs. Like the ones inside people. I didnt mind going into cadavar labs during my undergrad because I got to see and work with organs. I always liked holding the heart. I know how the heart works. I understand it. I know issues and drugs used to treat such issues in the heart. But when it comes to emotional things I know so little about this organ.

I do not understand why people feel certain ways or the varying degrees of caring. I do not find logic in the workings of the heart and I find it extremely frustrating. I appreciate logic. I like things to make sense. Ergo I really am not a fan of most of the things my heart thinks and seems to decide. I would much rather just have it make sense.

I realize that I fixate. That I care too much and dont like letting go. That my heart doesnt seem to listen to my head and that leads to explicit heartache every time, so it makes no sense that my heart keeps putting me in such positions. I hate all of the feelings my heart has in relationship senses. It always just seems to make me think that there is nothing better than things that didnt work out in the past. Which makes no sense. I try and live right now but my heart doesnt understand that much at all.

The heart is an essential organ that is required for life and I am fascinated by in anatomically and in all scientific ways it seems. However, I think it is the dumbest organ.

The Discovery of T-Rex Arms

Sometimes when someone throws cake at your head it bounces. Sometimes when someone smooshes cake into your face it sticks. This is only a problem if you apparently have T-Rex arms.

Tonight I learned that my arms may be average for my size but when being faced off with a hand each of cake they are not long enough. The result was a cake full of face and possibly one of the best nights of my life. Tonight I had a chance to celebrate being here for a full year with three girls that have made the last year fabulous.

I had a most proper barbeque that was perfect in every way. It had chips and dip and chicken wings and sausages and was in a park. And possibly the best part was the amazing sucker in the cake.

The night made me feel overly loved and left me with a shower that smelled like chocolate cake. I wish my arms were longer for cake fights.

One Yearverrsary

One time I got off a plane and realized I was in a different country and that I lived there and that maybe I was in the wrong place because I couldnt see any kangaroos. That one time was one year ago today. Which is a really long time but it seems like it just barely happened.

The last year has been a rollercoaster, not just emotionally but in every way. I have been challenged physically, mentally and I have grown more in the last year than ever before. I have come to learn a much more total form of independence and come to recognize what things are most important to me. I have loved and lost and learned more about who I am and who I want to be. The last year has molded me a lot. And I feel excessively blessed to have had this opportunity.

Due to the excitement I felt with being here for a year and being halfway done my program I was pumped for my class tonight. I baked them cupcakes and scripted a class that varied more from my norm than ever before. It went over exceptionally well. So well that all of the people loved me and then crowned me the Queen of Australia. I am pumped to be ruling this land. It is gonna rock.

Okay I am not the queen. I lied about that part. But I imagined it happening and it was awesome. I am really happy with who I am and where I am at in life.

Three Six Four

That would be one day less than three six five. Which is a lot of days. I havent been counting them and didnt realize it was so many until today. And when I look at that number I feel like it is really a lot of days. I would say something crazy like how many seconds that would be but I already come across super nerdy so I wont magnify that unnecessarily.

With that many days it sometimes makes things seem not real. Like parts of the past are really just things I imagined up. Sometimes that is probably the case. I imagine a lot and sometimes do it so indepthly I start to wonder if it could be real. It was real and odd and full of bad timing. And for some reason a full three six four later and you are still the person I confide so much in.

I cant really imagine what it was like to be with you, it just seems so long ago. But then part of me does sort of remember it. I remember the ice castles, and that lake, and that rock, and a lot of things. Part of me wishes I could say that it is all just history but  there is that little nagging part of me that says I cant categorize you under past.

I really miss you. Three six four days is a long time to not see someone.

My Life Has Become A Boring Pop Song and Everyone's Singing Along

Blah Blah Blah.. this feels drab lately. Possibly because I am in a rut. It's still the middle of exam period which limits my ability to be outside of a rut. My days are basically 8am library, home for lunch and a check in my the little one and then off to work. Dinner and possibly the gym after work then either bed or library again. This is routine. It is only a few more days. I need to find motivation again. Regardless, that is only half of it. The other half is I am still in that post break up rut. I should be over it. But tonight I realized I am not. I dont know why. Maybe it is because I see him constantly and he has to come across so perfect, tanned, in shape, top grades everytime, everyones friend. Its soo much. It makes me insecure and feel irrelevant. As if I was never a part of that world.  And this is why I am in a rut.

I dont even know what to write.  I will be rutted til wednesday. Although exams ending doesnt fix things. I would be lying if I said it did. I need to fix things. I need to find out why I really feel insecure and inadequate and deal with that. I cant blame him. I know its me. I wont mistake you for problems with me.

I need to fix this.

Mix Tape

I am a sucker for music, I just cannot help it. Therefore I am a sucker for mix tapes. I refound one the other night. An epic cd from a dear friend. The mix involves love songs by mostly indie bands and is overly amazing. In my relistening of this mix over and over again I realized something.

As much as I try and be independent and strong and act like I dont need people that isnt always the case. I like mix cds and feeling like a boy is trying to woo me. Like I am not forcing him to talk to me and that he is putting in some effort to impress me. I like trying new things and giggling because I cant help it. I am a hopeless romantic, or probably just hopelessly hopeful.

Nobody Plans to Be Half A World Away At Times Like These

I know that I live far away. And that is my fault. But usually that does not matter. Technology bridges gaps. And on days that are less than ideal those bridges are well trod.

Today was one of those days. A day when I wanted a bridge. I felt overwhelmed and unsure and frustrated. It felt like the fruits of my labours were non existant and it seemed unfair. I know these feelings pass, but in the moment they are very real, and sometimes difficult. So I just wanted to hear your loving motherly words.

But you are away and not reachable. So as I stepped off the train I found myself whipping the forming tears from my eyes and taking deep breaths. I had to pull it together before I walked into work. I had to remember that you cant change the past and all you can do is move forward.

I feel like my hopes and dreams are so large and sometimes that makes them seem unattainable, especially when things go awry. I really just want to succeed and in that to change lives and be happy. I hate that it is so difficult to accomplish that.

Today it felt like we were more than half a world apart and I really just wanted you to be there. I needed you. But you couldnt have known how much would go on in my head at this time, you dont plan to be half a world away on days like this. Its not your fault. I just feel insignificant and alone.

Hop A Plane

It feels like I am being unreasonable or dramatic. But if you knew the ins and outs and all of the inner workings and expectations in this well oiled machine you would understand. We always talk on Sundays. It is just one of the few days when the time difference allots us both being home at normal hours. Also it is one of the few times when I dont feel rushed to say everything while in a form of transit. And if we dont talk every few days you think something is wrong. Growing up if I didnt keep in touch you would have my head. You worry. So I learned. I learned that even though checking in and updates seemed irrelevant to me, they mean the world to you. So I changed.

So when I got a skype call of the little one being lonely I was confused. You forgot to tell me you actually were going on a cruise, and that you left. You had mentioned it was an option but that is all that it was. I wasnt prepared. I had so many things to say. I get that it is only ten days. But it is the most stressful ten days of the semester in a sense as it is finals for me. And more than that I have had so much on my mind and I worry a lot. So when you left and didnt call me first it cut. It was like your own rules meant nothing when they applied to you.

I really do hope your cruise is epic. But I wont lie, I am sad that you left and forgot to tell me. It makes me feel, well, forgotten. More importantly the little one is hurting still, so much. So my heart breaks that I am not there for her. I will rearrange anything this week to ensure that she feels loved. Even when that means lost study time or missing something. She needs to know that distance means little and I still love her more than anything.

It is dramatic but this is what I imagine you dying being like, except this isnt bad. But that instant feeling of you being gone and be not knowing and not being there and feeling lost and empty and alone and sad is what I imagine it being like. I dont really like that feeling much. I know that we grow up and move out but you never have really let go so I just dont understand how you forgot me. I am sure it wont be a big deal to you when I mention it, and you wont realize it made me cry. I just worry and feel like I have so much to say to you and you arent there. I hate that feeling. I just want the next ten days to be over and for you to be back and for me to hit the halfway point, a point where I can finally breathe again. Be safe. Please.

Patterns of Disconnect

I think I have wandered into a state of introspection in an attempt to prolong my procrastination. The pressure just isnt enough yet to force me away from literature, whether it be what I write or what I am reading. So here I am. Sitting in front of my computer on a saturday night introspecting. I have realized a few tendencies I have, and not in one those "I am so awesome ways".

I tend to form false relationships. Ones that are real through technology but disconnected in reality. It is easy for me to fb someone or send a text but when put in a face to face I immediately retract and withdraw. I think this is why I shy away from online dating, dont get me wrong I think about whether I should join those sites far too often. I just look back and see the boys in high school and college and even people I meet here and realize that there is nothing beyond oversharing through technology. There isnt commonality. There isnt something deeper. I dont really know how I get in these situations to be honest. I think its because when I get bored I really like male attention. That probably isnt a great thing but it is true and I dont mind admitting it.

I am going to try and be more real. I think that would be good for me.

The Future Freaks Me Out

 "We fail to represent, we fail to be content, we fail at everything we ever even try to attempt, and so the story goes"

Its hitting that point. I have to start thinking about my future. And the thought of it freaks me out excessively. In a week and a half I will have been here for a year, and will also be halfway done my program. That means one more year. One more year and I will be graduated. This time for good. There will be no other program to jump into to prolong planning my future. I actually will have to make decisions.

So here is the thing. I always just get up and leave temporarily. I cant seem to make extended plans or to really allow myself to settle. I look at things in a timeframe not infinitely. So making a decision as to where I want to settle down and set up a career scares me. I have left a lot of times, and probably burned bridges in all of my leaving. It scares me to think that I have to establish myself and that it feels like no matter where I do that someone will be hurt. Growing up freaks me out.

R2D2 Swimsuits

Sometimes you converse with people and it doesnt stick. I am the worst for that. I swear I am trying to listen and absorb but sometimes I just cant. I have the hardest time remembering names and specifics. I am not a verbal learner. I know that. I dont learn well in lectures or by reading. I learn by writing and doing. If I wrote down everything someone said during a conversation I would remember it better. But you cant really do that when meeting people.

However, sometimes people say things that captivate me. Like the conversation about the specifics involved with R2D2 swimsuits and their trademark legalities. It was overly fascinating. So much so I randomly thought about it while buying groceries the other day. It just reminded me that I really like conversing with people that make me think and fascinate me. It is much better than the drab, mundane conversations that happen so easily.

Sometimes I wonder why people are so superficial. But I know why. Its because either they dont care or they are doing it as a defense mechanism. Once you let people in they have the ability to hurt you. Maybe that is why when a conversation really grabs my attention I take notice. Although I will admit that sometimes I wish I was more superficial. Sometimes I regret saying out loud so much about what goes on in my head, but then I usually think about all the things I dont say and know it balances in the grand scheme. I wish I had an R2D2 swimsuit.

Perhaps You Forgot to Go

Sometimes I think that people always leave. Sometimes I am wrong. People often come and go, passing through our lives and occasionally leaving something as they wander through. But then there are a few people that come and just dont go. Often you can tell early on which ones these are. But sometimes it shocks you.

Today was a reminder of both. I needed voices from the other life today, from before I left. In a sense from people that knew me on a different level. One that wouldnt involve explanation. It would just be picking up wherever things were left and saying all the right things. Out of frustration I had sent a text, because I needed to say I was done and few people would understand where those sentiments could come from. I didnt expect much. A simple understanding was sent back. Then conversation sprinkled the day. You were someone I expected to come and go. There is a slightly convoluted history surrounding our acquaintance and yet you havent left. You somehow have become someone that knows all of the secrets and insights to my being. And amidst that you remain supportive. It has been nearly a year since I came to say goodbye. I miss you. But I smile a bit realizing it has been a year and you are still here.

Entirely opposite was the email I sent. It was to someone I knew would never leave. A best friend that has been there in a time I didnt know I needed a friend, a time when she would offer ice cream or brownies because she didnt know what else to do. There is some form of comfort in being able to talk to someone that recognizes your fear, that has witnessed the past and understands how it affects the present. Who gets how uni can be all consuming as its their life too. And to be counting down the exact same 44 days until a reuniting.

Sometimes I just like to talk to people that know me from before. To people that have wandered into my life and set up camp. I think it is because I already know they will stay and I dont always know who here will stay once I leave. Being a world away is a strain on relationships so I think I extra value the ones that have lasted through that. Today I felt really blessed to have two specific people understand me and know the exact way to listen. A little bit I miss living in Utah.

Unnatural Holding

This cant be normal. It cant be how things are meant to be. I am supposed to be entirely in control. And yet I look in the mirror and somehow see the unnatural holdings. I see the empty confusion in my eyes that you leave everytime I see you. I see the confusion as to how I thought things could work and then watched them fall so miserably apart. And as I see that I wish that I didnt feel it. I wish that I could control that. That I could not look at you and see how you appear to have been so entirely unaffected by the situation while I still feel lost.

And then I relook I look past that. I notice that I tried today. I wanted to leave an impression. There would be no costume today so perhaps it was a real first impression in a sense. In case this was true I wanted it to be a good one. I am captivated. I cant help it. It makes me feel like a school girl. Yet there is something about you that leaves me intrigued. But the other side of the coin says I am not enough to catch this eye and that really I shouldnt hope to. I see the insecurity. I am not used to being intrigued by someone on the right track. It has thrown me off.  And all of it is unnatural because a large part of me really just wants to be your friend because you exude all the things I need in someone here. And then part of me cannot deny that I am attracted. Regardless, it is unnatural and I dont like that feeling that I cannot control things, especially as I dont even know if I am still heartbroken or not.

And if I was to take a third look I would probably notice something worn down trying to be covered. As people age they acknowledge the tol the years have taken on them, it may be like that. Except I am not old. I just feel a bit worn after the past few months. Mostly physically. Health hasnt been my strong point. I wouldnt get a gold star for it, in fact I wouldnt get any stars at all. I would like to have an entire day of not feeling the weight of my inability to be healthy. I think that would be nice. I try and ignore it  mostly. I just go on as if it is natural. As if every other person must feel the exact same way as me. Deep down I know it isnt true. And sometimes post appointments I feel trapped as if its holding me hostage.

I dislike not being entirely in control. I do not like factors outside of my sphere of influence. Ergo as I sit here and realize that even though I am pleased with my hair and my nerdy glasses and my sweater that is supposed to be a hug from my mother, I can see so much more. I can see that people influence me whether I want them to or not. Maybe it is okay to still hurt around someone that has ripped out your heart. And maybe it is okay to once in awhile meet someone that for some reason intrigues you. It doesnt have to mean anything. And maybe it is okay to accept that I literally cant do anything else at this point healthwise and that is how it is. Maybe I need to give up some of my control in order to regain it.

Using a Pilgrim and an Indian to Narrate a Tale

It was like and Indian finding a pilgrim lost in the forest. The pilgrim didnt expect to be saved, and partially didnt know what he was looking for. Yet when the indian came and with a calming reassurance led the pilgrim to safety the pilgrim knew. The indian was what he had been praying for. Answers come in the form of unexpecting humans sometimes.

I dont know you really. I could say I do, but I dont. And that is irrelevant. I feel like I have been desperately searching for a person that would know what to say. It was different in Utah, I had a handful of boys that I knew I could trust and they would have the wisdom and perspective to help me understand situations. Here it isnt the same. That perspective just seems so infrequent. And with my innate thought that "people always leave" it sets me up for a lack of searching for that perspective I crave. And yet somehow it appeared. Perhaps it was the atmosphere. Costumes almost provide a cover that allow you to be more open as you are hiding so much. That may have not been it at all. And it probably doesnt matter. The only thing that really matters is that I felt like a lost pilgrim. In a strange land, confused and lost, just seeking some guidance. And then I heard words that were so familiar. It was like the comfort of white hot chocolate from juice n java on a cold Provo day.

I jump to conclusions. I make things out of nothing. I imagine things happening that never will. But thats okay. I was reminded that I am never alone even when lonely feelings may set up camp next to my organs. And I saw a glimpse of everything I was slowly forgetting.

Invisible Ladders are Hard to Avoid

Superstition says that walking under a ladder is bad luck. This leads to people going around ladders. And it is fine if you dont believe in superstitions to avoid walking under ladders, I mean it is just illogical and unsafe to do so. However, I am beginning to wonder if I am walking under invisible ladders. This would explain why I am going under them, clearly because I cant see them. This thought process arrives after a string of what appears to be bad luck.

Trouble breathing? No problem, you just need to breathe to stay alive. Oh all of the pain is suddenly back? Also not an issue, just go to the chemist and fill a prescription of painkillers with sometimes awful side effects. Thats fine. But then having a spider the size of my hand stalk me into my house and leave me in tears standing on my bed, handing house keys through a window to be rescued is just crossing a line. I dont know why my karma is so bad. I have been trying really hard to be a good person and I have honestly been so busy lately I wouldnt have had time to cause trouble. So this is all so perplexing. Therefore, I must just keep walking under invisible ladders. I need to learn a spell so I can see what is hidden in invisibility.

And Everyone Must Breathe Until Their Dying Breath

It may seem morbid, but I think it is just factual. If you arent breathing you are not living. Perhaps this is why centres around breath, it focuses on finding your breath and letting it be your guide for each movement, letting it connect your mind and body to become one. And even though this week I spend a lot of time doing yoga, well it just isnt where this train of thought is going. So back to breathing, it seems kinda important. And sometimes I forget that. I just go around breathing all day and dont even think about it. That was not this week.

It is hard to explain to someone who hasnt experienced it, but when you cant take a deep breath or when you start coughing so much it aches and each breath is a struggle you become acutely aware of breathing. It is one of those things that makes you alert no matter how tired you are. And sometimes it scares me. I hate feeling like every ounce of energy is put into just getting that next breath or trying to stop coughing. So even though I was working and teaching extra this week and was feeling overwhelmed with exams I found myself staring at the clock in a waiting room. Watching the seconds pass wondering why I couldnt seem to fix this myself. I know how to manage my asthma, I am so careful to remember to take an inhaler each morning to keep it at bay and when I noticed my breathing was becoming laboured I increased the dosage and took a rescue inhaler when needed. I was so on top of it and yet for some reason I just couldnt do it alone. I needed more serious medication to some how take control and set me back on track. It seemed frustrating. The timing was poor, and I just wanted to get things done not be up at night coughing or wondering why these steroids that provide breath also come with a plethera of side effects.

But as I am climbing back down that fence that had me wondering if I would end up seeking a more emergent solution I realize that is life. Sometimes we cant do things alone. And bad things happen to good people, and often at bad times. I guess sometimes I need a reminder that I am not a mountain, that I cant withstand everything all alone without protection and help. Life gets overwhelming and without reaching outside a comfort zone or seeking help it can get so discouraging.

It sucks coughing and not being able to take deep breaths but not breathing would suck more. And this too shall pass. So instead of continually wondering why things keep happening that seem unfair or inconvenient I am just going to take the breaths I can and move on. You cant control everything. Sometimes you just have to let go. And I will keep breathing until my dying breath.

"Do You Know Sugar Is Like Baby Meth?"

I like Community. It is one of those shows that just makes me laugh. I also like the album Community Group. Jonathan is a talented man. However, for once I am not taking some simple word and complicating it, tonight I am taking these random things and bringing them back to their origin. Community.

Tonight I felt like I was part of one. It was a feeling I liked but didnt know beforehand. I was running and saw an older man walking with his wife, he smiled and waved, he comes to my yoga class sometimes. It was nice to see him out. And I recently friended some neighbours and there is just something that makes me feel at home when I know I can bake something and take it to the neighbours. And then there is the fact that at the gym this week I ran into someone that comes into work. Or maybe its because a girl from yoga works with a friend of mine from uni. There are many options here.

It just seems like I finally am at a point where I am established in who I am and where I am and I am settled enough to have random sightings and to belong. I didnt ever consider this being a place of residence. Places have always just been temporary in my mind. A mean time. Not really anything more than that. I am making this my home though. I am making it mine and being part of a community. And that just makes being so far from home seem not so far.

Also meth is bad.

Trains Wreck

Sometimes trains crash. And its not something preventable, at least not from your end. And maybe that is just part of life. Maybe we have to fail sometimes to realize that we can pick ourselves up and grow. Maybe we would just be super weak and mundane if we didnt experience failure.

I feel like a train wreck lately. Like everything is falling out of control and consequently I let the the things I could control fall apart too. I am not sure I know how to get out of this rut and avoid disaster. But I am trying. And I just hope that I will be able to try hard enough to come out a step ahead of the train that feels like it is waiting to run me down.

So I think I will make cupcakes to make me smile and then study some more. I dont want to be that train wreck so its time to intervene for myself.

A Rough Copy

I still question if you actually liked it. If it meant anything. Or if it was just an attempt at a present that went awry. I feel full of apprehension and distrust perhaps, even though it is knowingly misplaced. I just feel a massive sense of unsureity, as if nothing can be trusted. Its like seeing a van near a park and instantly thinking it must be full of lollies and trying to capture children. It likely isnt but your mind goes to all the wrong places. Thats how I feel. Like I cant stop my mind from thinking the worst.

I am not sure when it reverted. When my thinking went back to the fact that people always leave. Perhaps it is because thats what I did therefore proving my thought. I left. I walked away from everything I knew and so why wouldnt I expect others to?

I want to believe that the words and the sentiment behind a delayed present meant something but somehow the finality of it all and the attempt to bridge just brings an awkward ache. A literal pain through the nervous system always leaving the most pain through the left hand. Its inexplicable. Its real. It reminds me that I dont like being alone. That I am alone. Alone in the sense that there is a void, a space of lonlieness that I almost consciously refuse to fill because I feel like you should fill it. Maybe its some form of denial. Some way of wishing it wasnt this way. My own words seem to be of no comfort. I just want to wake up tomorrow and realize its a new day, a better day.

Today felt like it raped and pillaged me. I didnt like it.

A Stuffed Hippo

I have a stuffed hippo. It is a treasure, a keepsake, something to remind me of a life. Life happens and with that some things we choose to suppress, this may be because it was embarrassing, emotional or painful. Regardless, we do not actively try to remember some things, we may even actively try and forget. It was not that I was trying to forget, I just wasnt actively remembering I suppose. 

So when I realized a lecture today was on palliative care in pediatrics my heart sunk a little. Children dying is sad. And talking about sick children that arent going to have a long life hits home. It reaches that spot of my heart that I dont delve into. The one that remembers a funeral right after Christmas. 

Two years after, I was home at Christmas and there was so much snow and I couldnt find her headstone. I just kept trying to push the feet of snow away, to try and clear as much as I could to find it. It had baby blocks on it. I just somehow wanted her to know I didnt forget, that I missed her, that in her short life she had blessed so many people. That even though I may not have biologically been her sister she still meant the world to me and I couldnt have loved her more. That I hated leaving the hospital and would have held her every second she was alive if I could have.

It's interesting how one thing can trigger so much. The thoughts, the aching, the memories, the longing all can come back in an instant. Its not like its debilitating or overwhelming, it just is an above subtle reminder that life is precious. That some people arent here for the expected 87 years. That sometimes children die and that all you have left are memories and a stuffed hippo. And that somehow even tiny lives can touch you for a lifetime. And somehow even though I tear up remembering how beautiful she was and the way you knew she loved you it warms my heart knowing that when she left she knew that she wasnt alone.

Sometimes all you have is a momento to remind you of the past and sometimes all you need is to hear a song or a phrase to feel the longing for something lost, and maybe that hurts, but maybe its okay to hurt because it means that something special happened before that hurt.

Butter Chicken

You probably think this post is about food. Its not. It says butter chicken in the cement sidewalk near my house and I pass it everyday. Today two guys saw it and were rather excited about it, it made me smile. And I am glad it did, because today wasnt that great of a day. I barely slept and not surprisingly woke up to an email, it happens every night before I get one, and I got nailed by an exam I thought I slayed. Today wasnt a very good day. But today is Thanksgiving. So I am going to man up and write some things that I am thankful for.

• That it says Unicorn on the dart board on TV when I watch Darts randomly
• That when you trace your hand it can look like a turkey
• That I ran 5 km tonight
• That I like my hair finally and growing it out isnt so painful
• That I actually feel like this is home
• That I can just hop on a train to work and that the last part of the train ride goes past heaps of graffiti
• That I can see anything scrubs related and feel happy
• That I have a family that really loves me
• That I have people here who care about me and worry when I am upset
• That music can make anything feel at least a bit better
• That I got a really good chocolate bar for 50 cents a few days ago
• That I have a library card

That is just a few things. But I think sometimes when days feel like they suck and all you want to do is cry a little bit it helps to remember all of the good things, sometimes they go unnoticed. Today may have not been my favourite day but it could have been worse. And reality is I still have 2 hours to make this day a bit better than it may have  been.

Always the Foreigner

Someone told me that me going home was an issue in a relationship. I didnt even realize that. It wasnt to me. But it got me thinking. A lot.

I first left home when I was 18. The next few years of relationships consisted of me being extremely vocal about the fact that I was from Canada. No I was not American. Although everyone knew, my accent gave me away everytime. (Now I cant even tell that I sound different than Aussies.. how much has changed..) And then when a guy would mention the future I would promptly inform him that I would be living in Canada so if that was not his plan than clearly our relationship wouldnt work. I mean why would I live in the States? Who did they think I was? And somehow I found some guys that were okay with that. How unfortunate. Really I just was immature and selfish.

Somehow years passed and I realized that I do love my homeland but I also love love. I love that feeling where you would do anything for someone because they matter that much. So somehow I find myself the foreigner again, as usual. I live somewhere so far from home. And at first I thought okay 2 years and I am gone. I will do my time, get the piece of paper qualifying me for a career than hop a plane and hit up my homeland. Yet as I sit here, single, I realize that I would stay for love. Actually, thats not what I mean, I mean I dont care where I live as long as it is me sharing my life with someone that I love and that loves me back. The place doesnt really matter compared to the people.

So as I go about being the foreigner for more at least 13 months I realize thats fine. I dont have to sound the same as everyone. This is my home. At least for now. And I want it to feel like home. So instead of me thinking in terms of how long til I leave I want to embrace this more, to make my room everything I want in a room, instead of it being decent for the time being. I want to have a schedule that mirrors what I want in life. I want to be the best person I can be instead of always thinking "I will do that when I am established." This may be my home for a long time, or maybe not. But I want it to feel like home.

And you were wrong. Me not being from here doesnt matter.

We All Have Our Things

Sometimes I get really caught up in things in my life. I mean those are the things I see. And then I get tunnel vision. I only see those things. Perhaps its because I dont feel like I have time enough to deal with my things so I just dont seek other peoples things. Thats been the state of my mind lately. I have gotten caught up trying to get over a break up, trying to think about the future and working and uni and not failing at any those things that pile up. And I forget that we all have our things. Thats probably why I keep listening to this song. It reminds me that I dont have to feel the weight of the world and that we all really do have our own things, and thats okay.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mrP9SrMJ00c&ob=av2e

"Do you feel
The weight of the world singing sorrow
Or to you is it just not real
Cause you got your own things
Yeah we all have our things I guess

I guess my mind wanders off
from time to time
Sometimes I convince myself
that all this fight in the world
It's not mine
Why should I
have to try
to fix things I didn't create or contrive"


-Do You Feel, The Rocket Summer.

Steve Jobs Dying Overshadowed Your Day

I like days that celebrate the day that someone was born. I like them best when I am not the one in the light. So when I woke up today knowing it would be passionfruit cheesecake for breakfast from a recipe that literally said "Nothing says I love you like passionfruit cheesecake. Tempt your loved one with this mouth-watering dessert" I thought well, this will be a different day. I knew it wouldnt exactly be the day in my head. That day wasnt real. But I knew it would be some kind of wonderful.

I like cake for breakfast. I like writing notes. I like seeing someone smile because for one day so many people remember them. But then Steve Jobs died and that was sad. I just wonder if my future I-things will be as awesome. They may be, but I still feel like I miss Steve Jobs. He was an inspiration that is for sure.

But back to a day of birth celebration. It felt like I should have celebrated you more. I wanted to spend basically every second trying to make your day perfect, but at some point I had to realize that it wasnt my job. That I cant pretend to be the girl I am not. That I have to learn to be a best friend and that maybe I filled that role with cake and starbursts and a publication on its way.

I liked this day better when it was in my head three weeks ago. However, the point is, you deserved the best day. And I am sorry Steve Jobs died, especially today. And I feel blessed that somehow 9 months ago we became really good friends and that I can tell you every secret. I admire you in ways that I probably dont have words for. I hope this day was perfect for you. And I hope that every morning when you wake up you realize that someone loves you and that you are excessively amazing. Happy day of birth celebration day.

Love always.

Gavin Degraw Sings What I Think

Dreams, that's where I have to go
To see your beautiful - face anymore
I stare at a picture of you, and listen to the radio
Hope, hope there's a conversation
Where we both admit we had it good
But until then it's alienation, I know
That much is understood - and I realize

[Chorus]
If you ask me how I'm doing
I would say I'm doing just fine
I would lie and say that you're not on my mind
But I go out and I sit down at a table set for two
And finally I'm forced to face the truth,
No matter what I say I'm - not over you (not over you)

Damn, damn girl you do it well
And I thought you were innocent
Took this heart and put it through hell
But still you're magnificent
I'm a boomerang, doesn't matter how you throw me
I turn around and I'm back in the game
Even better than the old me
But I'm not even close without you

[Chorus]

And if I had the chance to renew
You know there isn't a thing I wouldn't do
I could get back on the right track
But only if you'd be convinced
So until then...

An Energy Efficient Robot

I havent wrote on here much lately. It feels tainted in a sense. So I have taken my writing elsewhere for the week. Which has been nice. But I miss the sanctity that was my blog. Perhaps that feeling will return soon.

Regardless, as I set up for some quiet reading before bed I realized a flaw. My record player is across the room and the tiles are cold. Ergo I dont want to get up every twenty minutes to turn a record over or switch it. However, I prefer the sound from the vinyls than I do from my laptop. So I felt like this was an issue. I however came up with a grand solution. I need an energy efficient robot. Said robot could turn and switch records, get my more water when my cup is empty and could bring me snacks if necessary. This is a grand idea. Also my robot would go into sleep mode when not being used that way it would be best for the environment and not creepy when I sleep.

I wish I had a robot. I also wish I didnt say mean things when I am avoiding dealing with emotions and putting up walls. I also have an old wish returning, I wish a unicorn was dancing on your head.

When You Wake What Is It That You Think of Most

Its two am. I should be asleep. I have spent hours doing nothing important. Just cutting up magazines in a thought to decorate a wall. I spent most seconds of the day trying to stay overly occupied. It worked. Til I was walking home from the train. Somehow in those few short minutes I felt like I was suffocating, like I couldnt breathe without you in my life. I dont know whats happening to me. I used to be so cold, emotions were so easy to just shut off. Breakups were tender but never traumatizing. And yet for some reason I cant imagine life without you in it. Perhaps that means just as best friends. I can accept that. I just hate that we are in a phase of nothing because we have to heal and be sad. I am sad. And sometimes I get chest pain because I am so sad and feel so lonely without you in my life. Even Rilo Kiley didnt make this break up feel okay. However, I will brave face it again tomorrow and I will hopefully finish your birthday present because in some way that is bigger than us.

-You.

Suffocation of the Heart

I thought I would write something tragic. It would be a tale about two misguided lovers who fell brutally and entirely in love and yet somehow couldnt reconcile their differences. The breakup would be like a divorce in some ways. It would be a heart wrenching tale. One that would evoke all the wrong emotions.

And yet I feel too lost to narrate such a tale. The feeling literally was as if my heart was suffocating. In fact it still feels that way. It feels like something inside of me has died. And in that moment when I felt alone I called at just past 4 am your time because no one wants to be without a mother when their heart is shattered. And suddenly the tears and convulsion were so overwhelming breath couldnt be caught and vomiting to breathe seemed like the only solution. It was confusing and painful and I just wanted the suffocation to stop.  In a way it did with words of comfort and the fact that a best friend was literally dropped on my doorstep like a present from the one person I was aching for.

It would be easy to write that I am angry or hurt if he wasnt such a gentleman, if he wasnt so incredibly everything I love. I can only sit here and write that the loss of love  and its agony came from the fact that it was the losing of not only a love but of a best friend. Of the only person here that had heard every word and secret I had spared the rest of the ears from. The person that I had literally poured my soul too. So when the door shut it was a feeling of bleakness and aloneness that no other ending relationship has left me with. Perhaps this is why I know we will recover. Because you are truly my best friend here.

You may read this. In a way I hope you do but then I dont when I realize you will be reminded of the image you want to forget. For once I can write that I fell entirely in love and gave it a shot. That I cant look back and wish something was different and that I realize we both had to let this end. I can write that I still love you and that it felt like I couldnt breathe the moment you werent in my life. And I can write that I know I was wrong when I told you it was just like no one man could ever stay forever, that wasnt a fair category for you. I shouldnt have been so inwardly cutting. I wish you could just come back and we could cry together but that would just create more suffocation.

I cant wait for the day we are best friends again. Or even the day when we are friends without hiding complete sorrow. I hope its friday. Then we can go to the beach with our black friend. I love you and regret nothing.

Ships Sink

It was the first two words I thought in a moment of crisis. And then I tried to figure out what I would do if a ship was sinking with me on it. You see the comparison to being caught in a situation that may fail. So there I was. And at first I thought "well of course I will jump and swim to shore, why stay on a sinking ship? I could clearly save myself." Then I instantly thought, "If Billy Joel is playing Piano Man on the ship than I may have to stay and just go down with him because that would be the best way to stick it out and go down."

Even in my imagination I cant decide what to do when ships sink. Although I am rather happy that if I am on a sinking ship that Billy Joel will be playing for me. I suppose that is a plus to my mental turmoil. Piano Man really does evoke the best. I wonder if this ship is sunk or if its all just some crazy waves like that one time I was on a cruise and their was a tsunami and there were a lot of waves. I just dont know.

Firewater

"You sat me down beside myself. To show me all the reasons I was wrong for you. Was this for real its hard to tell. Cause it was such a beautiful mess we had got into. I'm going to overcome this, paper hearts wont win this time."

I would write something from my own mind. But I just probably wont. Its not been one of those days. Its been a day where I feel like I am drowning in a firewater lake. So why use my own words when someone already wrote about that. Perhaps it will change. Perhaps it wont. But suddenly it feels out of my control.

"I was never good at goodbye."

Mars, Venus or Uranus

When I went to my piano teachers house in middle school I would have to wait for my sister as we had back to back lessons. In the living room I always sat in I remember there being a game or maybe a book called Men are from Mars, Women are From Venus. I didnt give it much thought.

Today I was realizing how blatantly different boys and girls think. It caught  me off guard. Reality is it shocked me and a few hours later I still feel confused perhaps. Or maybe just insecure. The thing is that I save every note and card anyone gives me. I treasure them and place them in my journal or my note box where I reread them. So to hear that each note I write just goes straight to the receptacle bin was a shocker. To realize that we respond differently always seems illogical. In my mind everyone would the same in generic situations. To me its like any romantic date should make someone feel elated and get butterflies and feel in love. And everyone should want to leave little notes for people they like. And teasing should never be related to something sensitive. And people should want to always remind others they love them and know its not implied.

You see in my mind its Uranaus. Because in grade 2 we studied the planets and I drew Uranus because I liked the bluey green colour of it. So that is my favourite planet. And on that planet boys and girls understand each other. And on that planet I am not sensitive and insecure.

Sometimes I realize I just dont understand boys and that just leaves me insecure. I wish I was tougher and lived on Uranus.

c f & e m

This is what my mind is thinking like. Its just letters. And sometimes one letter means several words, yet there isnt confusion. I just look the letters and read it like I would read any sentence. I am not sure if this indicates I am going insane or if I just magically understand my own notes. Today was a perfect beach day, so perfect my housemate went to it in fact. And yet I worked and then went to the library. A place that was dead. It really was a dreary lonely place that was sucking the life out of me like death eaters do. I dont think I like pre exam days. They feel stressful and dreary. However, I have been quite pleased with my musical choices that have resouled me to counteract the library. Six more days and a week of freedom. I can survive. Although it is making me very dull.

cervical flexor and extensor muscles

Feelings Beyond Vague F-Ship

Ships come and go with the tide. F-ships are the same. They dont all come to harbour and stay. Some leave but always come back and others leave never to be heard of again. And some you see in passing, and thats all you need. You dont feel a compulsion to stop or to reroute to join their journey. You just enjoy the friendly passings on. These are the feelings I classify as vauge, the ones that dont need to surpass the threshold into real f-shipping.

Perhaps its bad to admit it, perhaps it makes me seem shallow or like relationships are insignificant. I dont think that at all. Its quite contrary. I just tend to take a ship and grasp it so tightly or place it in a glass bottle to be treasured forever or I let it sail on. Some of the ships that have passed I miss, and wish I had flagged them down. And sometimes I realize it was for the best and that our ships would never be on the same route. So I embrace the vagueness. The calm, subtle moments of hellos. And I let them just be that. There is no reason to make them larger or to think longer.

And then I think about the ones that are one the shelf, preserved so preciously. And I am grateful for them. Perhaps they arent really boats in glass bottles but they are there. They are represented in a childs shoe, or a photo, or a drawing, or a record or a scrapbook or a gift. They have found their spot on my journey and I cherish them. My f-shipping skills have been lacking lately. I apologize. I will try and reroute my ship away from the dark abyss it may have been journeying towards.

One Decade is Ten Years

I still remember that morning. I was in middle school. I had to go to the dentist before school. I  hated the dentist. But drama class was first so I was excited for that. Mum picked me up and on the way to the school, it was a very short drive, she told me what was happening because she didnt want me to hear it first at school. I thought the world was ending. I remember sitting in classes watching it on TV and then at lunch going to the little hill behind the field and sitting with my friends talking about it all. It seemed surreal. It was incomprehensible. The world felt unsafe. I was confused and scared. I didnt know what would happen next. I remember my mum carefully putting all the newspaper articles about it each day into a box by the armchair in the corner. She said it was something we would need to remember. And that the world would never be the same. I didnt know anyone in the towers or on the planes. I had never been to New York. All I knew how to do at that young age was to hold a bake sale.

Ten years have passed. Ten years and sometimes it feels like the remnants are most noticeable with American airport security. Things have changed. The war on terrorism seems never ending. People are less trustworthy. Fighting is more prevalent. But in ten years the Americans have in so many ways come together and bonded over a tragedy that is incomparable in todays first world countries. Yet it has opened my eyes. It is a tragedy still. So many lives were lost. However, prior to that day I never realized how  unfortunate people are that are born into war torn countries. I cant imagine living in constant fear listening to bombs overhead or walking through landmine infested areas on a regular basis. I cant imagine living under a communist regime or any form of dictatorship.

In a decade I have grown up. I have learned that the world can be a bad place. That bad things happen to good people for no reason. And that when bad things happen the good people fight back. That others choices hurt us but they dont have to ruin us. That rebuilding is hard but possible. And that you dont have to go through such things alone.

I want to go to New York and see the monument. I want to be able to picture the beauty and sanctity of it instead of just seeing the images of the planes  hitting the towers when I think of the tragedy. Some days come and go with nothing to write home about. And some days change the world. Those days can be hard. I like the quiet days better. Lest we not forget.

Crossing the Chicken's Road

Sometimes we stand at the edge of the road waiting for something to cross. Waiting for something to happen to us. Yet we do nothing. And sometimes we just stand there in apprehension and then cross. I was at the intersection of apprehension and taking a step the other night. I was nervous because my track record of perfect Friday night dates had been so low. Each Friday a carefully planned activity would slowly fall apart into a mess much like the way tears leave makeup ruined. So as I stood outside the restaurant my thoughts were flooding in. Was my dress attractive enough? Woud the food be good? Would we have a good time? Would something obscure happen again to make it a fail? I just wanted it to go smoothly and yet that seemed impossible for us.

And then I looked up and there you were. Handsome. No, breathtakingly handsome. And from that moment nothing else mattered. I knew the night was perfect. And it really was. Dinner went well. I will admit that I decided to give chicken a shot. It had been ten months since meat and I have spent the meal together but life had been intervening and suggesting a return to the protein of meat. I tried it and it was awkward and uncomfortable. The chicken didnt like me crossing that road and I didnt really like it either. The other side of the street was less strange. Regardless, dinner was lovely and then the suggestion of a surprise appeared. I didnt know what to expect. I actually expected nothing.

Expecting nothing and being taken to an arcade is probably the best thing ever. I could have screamed with excitement. All dressed up for our dinner and yet laughing as we played a few games. I was impressed that you knew that it was exactly what I would want to do. It was perfect. With my recent luck planning dates was such a fail it was making me nervous. Nervous that it meant something wasnt working out. That would be incorrect. After the most perfect evening I feel once again reminded why I am so ecstatic that I have you.

My Organs and Their Lack of Depicting Intelligent Processing

I know I have wrote about my retarded heart. It was a very factual entry in fact. I am not writing about my retarded brain and how it brings my imagination to the  most twisted and unwonderful imaginings. Perhaps my brain is retarded also. Maybe I should be concerned that its not individual organs but a more general case of retardedness, hm, I think I will dismiss that thought for now and carry on.

I have recently become overly aware of the fact that my brain is restless, causing me to be restless. This affects my ability to sit still as well as to sleep without much disruption. This also leads to insane pathways of thought and a continuum of dreams that make no sense and yet somehow find a way to cause confusion and concern. The imaginings

Exceeds Expectations

Sometimes I wish I could get report cards of my life. Like every few months open the mail box and have my evaluation there. That way I could get that anxious apprehensive feeling and the dread that comes with opening it. But along with that I could also get the excitement that you feel with words of praise or unexpected noticings of strengths you were unaware of. Yes. I wish I was getting report cards.

I think in creativity and daily thoughts I would exceed expectations. In focus I would probably do poorly or however they word it these days to sound like a good thing when really they are saying you suck at it. I would likely fit along an average scheme for things like health, productivity, math skills and home ec. I would expect above average for literature and art related tasks and below average for wrestling skills, and hard things like killing spiders or not being afraid of the dark.

In all of the failures and areas that need work the few things that are picked out that say you are nailing life make report cards worth it. Maybe I will start giving others report cards for life because I think it is a good idea. If all goes well no one will be offended and I will not get beaten up. I wonder if I will ever grow up.

David Thorne

Sometimes we censor. We contemplate others tender hearts and dont want to create leaking in the form of tears. So we just think things and dont say them. Instead we smile and say some non-meant pleasantry. However, this is not what everyone does. In fact, I have this deep admiration for people who say it how it is. And by this I refer to those people that are so outlandish that my whole abdomen shakes as I try and control the overwhelming laughter that brews with each word I read. This is how I feel about David Thorne. I may love him for the mere fact that his words are everything I am too scared to say half the time, the other half the time I may be on the same page as him just to a much lesser and less funny extent. Please waste some valuable time laughing. Laughing is good for the soul. And it will make me feel better about the massive amount of time I wasted reading his works today. What a champ.

http://www.27bslash6.com/f26a.html

Cant Keep Safe What Wants To Break

I think I thought it wanted to break. That I was just continually wrapping duct tape around it like a mummy in an attempt to piece it together while its scissor hands tore it apart just as quickly. You cant keep something safe if its going to break. But I was wrong. It wasnt going to break, and I wasnt using duct tape, I was just losing my mind. 

I have recently realized that my fears and insecurities hold me back from so much. I never realized this before. I just thought I could do anything and if I was too scared to do it, well than it probably just would suck anyways. But I think I was wrong. I think I just didnt want to know that I was missing out on anything in life. But I feel really lucky because I didnt realize this on my own. I am not that apt at self reflection. I need prodding like cattle. I need to be herded in the right direction to find out such things. So here it goes.

I realized that I get scared of being happy. That me being happy means someone else isnt.

I am afraid that spiders will eat me and that is a problem when I have to pee and there is one in the bathroom.

I realized that most of the things I think arent real.

I realized that because I imagine so much that it leads me to worry about things that arent real.

I realized that karaoke isnt scary, it is actually fun.

I realized that I dont hide things well when someone really knows me so I am best to just say whats wrong.

I realized that I talk too much and this prevents those quite moments from happening.

I realized that not everyone is out there to break your heart, but you dont know that unless you give them your heart.

And I learned a lot more. Mostly I have learned that I shouldnt be so insecure about everything. That sometimes I do things just right. And those times count for a lot and shouldnt be outshone by all the times when I dont get it right. Regardless, my head is far too full or imaginatory ideas that possibly need to be quieted for awhile. At least I know I dont have to struggle keeping this safe, it doesnt want to break.

If You Wanna Be My Lover

Okay, so I sang karaoke to the Spice Girls tonight. This should be an ultimate shocker in some regards. One because I dont sing in public ever, and two because I dont listen to pop music for the most part. However, there was something ultra enticing about the thought about getting up with my possibly not so clear minded friends and singing the spice girls. It wasnt even like there was inhibition. Perhaps their lack of fear was all I need. I think it is safe to say that I now can go to sleep knowing I did one thing that scared me today. And it was awesome. And I really just like the word lover.

Elephant Shoes

I dont know where I heard it. Somewhere along the way to growing up a little bit and learning that words are hard to express. Sometime before I had to come to understand the meaning and impact of words. And yet saying elephant shoe is just so much easier than so many other things. I even think it. Instead of thinking of what I should say or what I could say or the mature appropriate thing I just think of how I prefer a cop out. I prefer to not say everything sometimes because I have a massive fear that things arent as perfect as they seem. And things dont even seem perfect.

I guess it is called adaptation. Survival of the fittest. Its how natural selection works. We adapt or we die. Not always literally, but in some sense we become obsolete and extinct if we do not find ways to adapt. I think some adaptations can be negative, we can desensitize ourself. And in that space between us supposed to be feeling and the space of nonexisting we can just not acknowledge the feeling in any real sense. We accept things as normal that arent. We shouldnt have to. But its how we cope. We deal with the difficult by not dealing with it and normalizing it.

I noticed this on the usual walk this morning. I made an off handed comment in a lighthearted comment about a serious topic and my friend stopped and looked at me. And then she acknowledged that if she didnt know better she would think I was joking as my nonchalance seemed abnormal. Its how I cope. Things are less real and less able to control your life if you dont give them that power.

Back to the important things though. The elephant shoe. I think about it all the time. I let it consume me when it shouldnt. I cant help it. I am so happy that it scares me. I dont want to screw this up but I dont know if I know how to actually let things be when they are good. I hope I can learn fast. I am happy, and mostly its because of a boy.

Let The Rain Fall Down and Wake My Dreams

Hilary Duff sang a song one time. Or maybe many times. Actually lets make it twice because I currently have two songs of hers depicting this moment. I just remember this one specific song though because of the lyrics. The blatant obvioussness of them along with the pure fact and ridculousness just stuck with me. For example "If the light is off then it isnt on".Who sings that? I mean I know that if my light is off then that means it isnt on. Thanks for the reminder. That is not the point though or why I am writing tonight.

Its been a rainy day. One of those evenings where you could just sit and watching the rain pouring down the windows. Like in the music video for come clean. Or at least what I remember the video being like from a decade ago. And I did. I sat at work watching the rain because the power was out and there wasnt much I could do while trying to cancel the afternoons appointments. And as I watched the rain I thought about how refreshing, renewing and cleansing it is. I love being out in the rain, letting it just fall on my face and feeling like everything is a bit purer. I like laying on my bed and listening to the rain falling outside because its soothing. And for some reason every time it is really stormy outside the rain makes me think of that third L word. That thing that is so elusive and yet seems so much deeper when it rains. So I think I will be like Hilary tonight and let the rain wake my dreams.

My lack of rereading my own writing recently is becoming blaringly apparent to me. I know I am only writing to try and release the pressure I feel. The pressure that only I am placing on myself yet I cant lift it. Its like I am allowing myself to be crushed under a boulder I placed on me. The feeling is surreal in a third definition of free dictionary masochistic way. Its as if I wont allow myself to feel peace and joy. The second I want to say how happy I am I let something ruin it. I let myself be enveloped in overwhelming things that should be sitting on shelves. My life feels unsorted. As if there are books and papers and clothes strewn everywhere in representation of objects and life situations. An yet my room is rather neat minus the notes to study. The feeling in unsettling. Its lonely. And yet I only want to be alone. I am avoiding even leaving this slightly rectangular shaped place because inside it there is only a faint sound of rain and the obvious sound of my records. It is a haven. A haven where the only one that can hurt me is myself. And that is possibly my biggest enemy. I need a break from my own head. 

Let me clarify. I have a life that is above adequate. I just feel inadequate and continually find myself in unfortunate or less than ideal situations that become overwhelming and all encompassing. This week has been full of such situations. I think I could use a few weeks where I only have good karma. That would be pleasant. But maybe I am too scared of being happy to let that happen.

The History You Didnt Take Because The History Is Just History

In some lines of work you have to take a history. To find out what has happened to be able to find out how to proceed. To be able to piece together everything. I am efficient at this. I know the order to do so. I can handle open and closed ended questions and responses. I am wary of the time and can do this effectively. However, that is in the form of work. It is not in life.

Life doesnt work that way. You dont take a complete history upon meeting. You have to piece together answers over a long period of time and then look at the picture. And some pieces will be missing, maybe forever, and maybe not. Unless all barriers are broken there will never be an entire picture. So its not the same. So in life sometimes you come across another piece and as you place it in you feel accomplishment, like you are building something. And some pieces are full of history thats dark and tainted, things you didnt want to know but realize you should know. Everyone has history, I just didnt know what yours was and somehow it hurt.

It makes me wonder if I should take a more thorough history of people sooner, prevent the surprises. This week has felt like an emotional roller coaster, but one thats in a nightmare because you cant control it and cant just get off. It doesnt just end after one minute of glorious horror. It just keeps going. I feel out of control. Like there is nothing around that I can just take charge of. Perhaps thats why I keep letting my phone ring without answering. Its something I can actually choose. Sorry if you feel shut out today, I just want to be alone.

I Know I Know I Know

You know when you have something in your head and you're sure it will be real but you actually dont want it to be? And then you get clarity. An answer. That's all you want. Perhaps it will bring closure. It will clear the murky water that appears to be your life. And you get it. You get your answer. And its exactly what you thought. You knew all along. But somehow the thought of it is suffocating. Each inhale is agonizing. Its like something is sucking all of the air out of the atmosphere and you struggle to breathe.

How can you know the answer already, be sure of it, and just be waiting for confirmation and yet when you get that confirmation it's a shock to your system? Aren't you prepared already? Mentally, verbally, you know what will happen. You anticipated it. So why does it feel so foreign? I wish I knew. I think its because I was lying to myself. I lied all along. I said it was okay. It wasn't okay. I am scared, apprehensive and feeling anxious about making everything work out. The future is hard to handle. I need to get back into the now. Into this moment. I need to recentre my thoughts.

Even though I knew in my head all along, today was still not a good day. It was a day full of overwhelmingness. Tomorrow is a new day. At least I wasnt alone today.

I'll Dispose of You Like a Lighter Out of Fuel

The lyrics are morbid and spiteful. I gave you these roses now but I left in the thorns. I would rather hurt someone than myself. And yet they continually dance around my mind. I think of this song and how disposable some things are. How selfish humans are. How we can toss people to the side once they fill their purpose. How tragic. And yet a day full of peace, comfort and blatant honesty brings me to this song.

Perhaps because I have had disposable relationships. I have been the one scared to be hurt so walked away and hurt others in the fear of opening up and being vulnerable. And then I have been the one hurt as someone else has been closed. And then there are times of mutual disposability. But what do you do when one day you wake up and realize the lighter is out of fuel and yet you love it, so you cant let it go. All you can do is put it in a drawer and continue on. To forget about it unless you come across it. Being fuelless it has little purpose. Unless it was refueled. Perhaps this is just another demonstration of my inability to let things go. I do, eventually. But its like owning a camera and then running out of film, you dont toss it, unless they stop making film for it. Then it has no purpose and perhaps will find its way to the trash next to your old ikea lamp.

Disposability is tragic. Yet those people that resist it, the ones that remain in your life, like the thorns on roses, should be treasured. A thorn prick only hurts for a moment. Nothing compared to the beauty of the rose. This reasoning is only my way of justifying to myself why I once chose to love someone that I knew would break my heart. It seems so long ago. Something that occurred in a time when life was different. It feels so unemotional. Like a fact. Its like just looking at a table and reading fractions. I used to love you. You didnt love me and I left. We had potential, a lot of it. But potential isnt and wasnt enough to prevent me from leaving. And you would never have asked. I never once thought that it hurt you when I got on that plane. The fact is it did. And that all is so irrelevant. Except you know all of my secrets and regardless of the thorns and the lack of fuel you are still there. There in the sense that we can unemotionally talk about the facts, the words that should be dramatic and feel nothing. And at the same time you can say the words to me that you dont know why they are coming out, words you dont express, and know that my heart aches for you. Your humaness is endearing. But at the end of the day it doesnt change anything. Perhaps then you knew all along, so the facts were just general conversation in a heavy sense.

I nearly erased this due to its lack of external meaning. Its all from the past. The past isnt now. Its been 9 months since I got on that plane and that was the end. The fact is I am falling in love with someone here. But then again that doesnt change that the indisposability of a past relationship has given me a human that knows my secrets and is finally opening up. I guess I didnt dispose of everyone like a lighters out of fuel when I left. But everyone needs a friend like that sometimes.

I lied, I would rather hurt myself then someone else.

I Can Guarantee That Lickin' The Package Ain't Ever Quite As Good As

Its like when you get a cup of chocolate pudding and you open it up and lick off the lid. Its just a quick tease of how good the pudding is about to be. If you only got that, well. you would be sorely disappointed. It just is a fraction of the exquisiteness that is about to enfold in your mouth.

Life is so much like this sometimes. We get a quick sample of something and are left yearning for more. Or  even left just knowing that the whole thing is so much better. Maybe its abnormal but I feel this way with people sometimes. Its like when all you get is a text or a fb message or an email you are just left feeling like you only got a sample. Such a small piece compared to what it was like to see them or hangout or just be together.

I got the most miraculous mail today. It was part of a package I had ordered from my favourite artist. A young man who's music has been touching my life since high school days. I was psyched to see how his solo album turned out. And then I got a poster that thanked me for launching his solo career (standard poster right) and then for being from Canada, that was funny in and of itself. It should be noted that I actually became friends with him a few years back which was so epically amazing because he is crazy down to earth and a solid guy. And then he sent along a friendly note and random photos of himself. It was hilarious. I like that I know someone that is a tiny bit famous and that he is such a dear because it makes me feel special and remembered.

But to tie it all together, it just reminded me how much better it was when I could just go to his shows and chat with him, and then at his shows I would go with JD and her and I would giggle and be us. And then I think about Provo and other humans that I miss and then my family. And I just realize that skype and facebook and text messages and phone calls are great. But they will never be quite as good as being with those people. Just like how licking the package is never going to be quite as good.

More Than an Accumulation of Labels

Eyes closed. Breath overcoming all over sensation. Your mind is silencing as the foreign music blocks out any other thoughts. You are allowing yourself to let go. Welcome to the end of my classes. This morning I was filling in again at a club I prefer. I have never received so much positive feedback about anything in my life as I do there. After taking all of their classes last week and another one today I feel reminded. Reminded of what I love and why I do it. 

Reminders come with questioning though. I wonder why I am a graduate student. Why I didnt just pursue this full time. I honestly love yoga with a passion thats incomparable in my life. The only other thing that brings me that feeling of satisfaction, purity and accomplishment is writing. And yet neither of these things are my life. How do we get on the paths we are on and when do we know if they are right?

I can undoubtably say that when I teach a solid class and people leave feeling renewed and even come up to thank me I feel honoured. Honoured that I could be a part of their practice and that they would share such a personal and meaningful meditation with me. I regret that I dont spend more time on my own practice. I am really striving to change that.

This week has left me full of doubt. Of questions and waiting. Wishing answers or relief would come sooner and succumbing to the reality that some things are out of my hands. The plausibility of having to leave here temporarily and the thought of the worst option, deferring or leaving the program, have come up. At first I thought I couldnt handle either. That if I had to go home for personal reasons that I would just be letting everyone down, my employers, my students, my housemates, friends, professors, and that one special person. And yet I think I have come to realize that being here doesnt define me. Being a student isnt me, being a yoga teacher isnt me. I am so much more than  just an accumulation of labels and because of this I will handle what happens. I will weigh out the options I am presented with on Wednesday and I will find answers and make an informed decision, and if that means a short trip home I will make it work.

This week has played more mental games with me than I would like. It has pushed me to the limits involving physical pain, emotional exhaustion and physical fatigue and yet I am sitting here feeling refreshed as I finally feel like I am not alone and that I can make it.

This Place Is Far More Inappropriate Than The Appropriate Place

I write things I know are personal, or perhaps shouldnt be wrote on here. Knowing that fact doesnt stop me though. It just is something I know. Although sometimes I  hold back. I think of things I want to say and know that its too much, too overwhelming or just not right for this forum. So finding the appropriate place to share the right things is hard. In knowing this I feel blessed to have found the right place twice.

The first time it was in a setting of safety and honesty. A room where no one would judge and people would ask the hard questions only because they wanted to help. A place where I saw people and loved them due to their flaws, where my heart broke for other people and where I knew they were looking out for me.

The second time was unexpected. It is a group. A group I found through social media none the less. A group I found because I wanted information. I wanted to know I wasnt alone. And then one day I wrote something and realized I was so entirely not alone. That other people knew the exact way I felt, that they had the same frustrations and that they didnt want anyone to feel alone. A place where my heart breaks when I hear of their pain and their  lack of solutions. A place where I can say exactly what I am feeling and not have to explain everything. Where they just know.

I wish there wasnt people that felt the way I feel sometimes. We all think that though I am pretty sure. We never want someone else to experience anything bad. And yet I am so grateful that other people know and understand. That they can make me feel so much less alone when alone is all I know how to feel when it comes to some things. The appropriate place makes the words flow so much easier.

The Only Rabbit Worth Writing About

Twenty years ago a boy was born. Not a rabbit, a boy. However, being the precocious child I was I hated boys. I decided that if said baby was a boy I would call him Spit to represent my disliking of the gender. I did so for nearly twenty years and sometimes still do. However, he is known by many names and some numbers. One name involves a rabbit. So today I am dedicating my words to this rabbit. One that continually changes my life.

I find it is seldom that someones actions shock you in such a way that you could cry out of the disbelief for their love for you. That they do something that seems so outstanding and selfless in the name of protecting you. I used to look at this rabbit as a small young thing, someone I would look out for. Even as he grew and became much taller and stronger I felt the sense to nurture him and look after him. I didnt even realize when the time came and he suddenly was the one protecting me, actually, all of us. His own words expressed how he thought of himself as the lion looking out for the pride. That the felt a sense of responsibility to protect us as the man of the home. His words and concern showed me a glimpse of a man, a man so devoted to his family that he would never back down. I dont know when I went to sleep and he transformed from a little boy,  I really dont.

I still think of when we would play in the trees or when he handcuffed the babysitter to the tramp. Or when we used to play street hockey. I think of him as the little boy that would play lego with me. I sometimes can think of him growing up and playing football, and the anxiousness I would feel each time he got hit. But rarely did I think of him as the man that would one day take us all under his wings and protect us.

I feel blessed to have a little brother that acts as a big brother and would do anything for me. I am honoured to be associated with him and to have someone care so deeply. I often wish I could take away the pain he must feel but he continually puts the girls first and ensures our needs are met. I love you more than anything and would give my life for you Matty Rabbit. Happy Birthday. And thank you for never leaving.

Tension and The Terror

The tension is palpable. Not figuratively. Literally. I can feel the tension. It is a reminder of days long passed. Of days of pain, discouragement and searching for answers. Days that were so long ago it seems like a different life. A time when I was young and nieve and impressionable. The tension brings terror this time. It feels like a forewarning of a road that may approach without any options of exiting.

My lack of coping becomes blatantly obvious. I was asked if I was pretending I was okay, I was. I felt defeated and exhausted and possibly overwhelmed. Who am I kidding, I feel that way still. But I did what I do. I bought dinosaur shaped pasta so my dinner would make me smile and I bought hair dye. I usually just cut my hair when I cant control something in my life but the agony of growing it out is finally lessening so I cant give in and take a massive step back by chopping it. So for the next 6-8 washes the colour may be slightly different. Everyone has to cope somehow. To try and take the reigns of a carriage they arent even close to.

I still feel the tension. I feel the fear that things could spiral. That in seconds I could lose control. Yet I dont feel near as alone as I expected. So maybe it all will be okay because I know that whatever happens I dont have to stand there alone with tears in my eyes.

Foreigners and Health Care Never Mix

I am good at being foreign. I have practiced for quite some time. In fact, when I attempt to fit in and be Aussie I mostly just fail miserably. So being foreign is possibly on my list of skills. And this is something I dont mind. I love travel and experiencing new places. I have chose both of my out of country moves and have been quite satisfied with them. Although I often forget the biggest downside of growing up in a country with impecable health care and then moving elsewhere.

At home you go to the doctor and think nothing of it. A few scans, maybe a hospital stay or two. Not a big deal. Contrasting to the Americans. You need to stay in the hospital for surgery? Oh let me have your first born child as well as all of your family heirlooms. Oh you are having a baby? Well then, I will just take your soul, sign here. Fortunately for me living in the states was so close to Canada that I would just hop a plane or drive home for anything medical. Solved. Unfortunately Australia is proving to remind me of the Americans and this time I cant just pop in my car and appear home. One specialist appointment and the minimum cost will be 160. I feel that this is exorbitant, that its near extortion seeing how I actually do pay for health care. Apparently being foreign is just another way of being screwed if you arent healthy. I do appreciate the doctor telling me that if things arent working out maybe I will just have to go back home. Thank you for those kind words. I was hoping it would be suggested that I could drop out and lose everything I am working towards. Awful idea.

I like being foreign. I hate being foreign and not being impeccably healthy as apparently I will be signing away all of my skillz as well as any future children in the process of seeking good health. Cool.

Dressing Bad is Like Loving You, There's Nothing I Havent Worn

Resonance. Lyrics continue to shape my thoughts, perhaps because I seldom am without music playing, perhaps because they make more sense to me than any other form of expression. Regardless, I have been mulling these ones over for days. Dressing can be stressful for me. I have a lot of clothes and nothing I havent worn. I can toss clothes around the room frantically wishing I could find the right article for the situation. My closet and baskets are in dire straights as they are overflowing the brims. Yet its all in an attempt to not dress poorly. To put on the most accurate image of myself as people see you before they get to know you.

And somehow this brings me back to falling in love. To the times when I look back and see where my emotions were so misplaced and just like me dressing bad. Putting on something that would never work. The times when I misunderstood love and just wanted someone there for the sole purpose of being there. When I would have worn anything.

Time passes. People change. Dressing bad is less frequent. Loving you is becoming more plausible. Time to clean out the closet.

Three Times Ten Plus Two Hundred and Seventy

Prologue. I started writing for no real reason. Just because I could. And now I find it drives me. The ability to release my inner thoughts and not feel pressure or judgement is freeing. I feel like the last three hundred minus one posts have helped me to heal, to recognize love and loss and to learn. My writing has taught me more about myself than I ever realized I need to know.  

Tonight I realized that sometimes you have to say the hardest things, things that may mean nothing to someone else, because they mean everything to you. Opening up to the point where you no longer feel like you are hiding is refreshing. And painful. I wont sit here and type that it isnt hard. That sharing what hurts you most with someone is easy. It is heartwrenchingly difficult. Yet in knowing that I finally am not hiding behind some mask of strength that is really just face painted on and will fade with tears feels rewarding. I dont know at all the real reaction. Perhaps my words were a lot less on the other end. But looking back and realizing that I started writing because I couldnt vocalize words and now have learned how to allow someone in amazes me. 

My writing has saved me. It has brought me out of times of pain, depression, aching, loneliness and it also has helped me grow. I hope that one day something I write will help someone, or mean something to someone else. Three times ten plus two hundred and seventy has saved me from myself.

For TPAB Lovers

For those few people, so maybe like one human, who has been reading this words long enough to know about the TPAB series, well this one is for you. As usual on a Thursday I went to teach. Typical, this has been basically every Thursday for nearly 6 months. I was stoked tonight, mostly because I just really love yoga. So class came and went and it was normal and nice and I felt good. Then TPAB came up. I nearly died and didnt hear what he said at first because I was so shocked. He is Australian! How confusing! HIs accent just stunned me. I didnt ask his name because I secretly dont want him to have a name other then TPAB, but update, he is not American. On to next week when I will look at him in confusion as he walks in wondering if he knows that I thought he was american for 6 months.

The Reality of Mini Donuts

If you feel curious about the analogy I am about to make to mini donuts I am pre-apologizing. There is not analogy. This is actually me posting about how mini donuts are real. After over four long years my beloved JD has come to her senses. I received one of the best messages of my life this arvo as she sent me a picture of a mini donut sign and admitted to their reality. After years and years of pictures, facial expressions, words and animated arguments she believes. I have heard that believing without seeing is faith. Apparently her faith in me and mini donuts was no existant. However, I am excessively happy to report that she knows they are real. The thought of the, brings that sugary coating of bliss into my mouth. Oh how I miss rodeos and 2/$5 mini donuts.

Addendum.

In light of further information I would like to addend yesterdays post. Regardless of the fact that I had to pee so bad that I must have super bladder muscles which prevented any accidents, I have discovered it was not the fact I had to pee. I definitely get butterflies around you. I realized this when you texted me while I was on the train to work. Problem solved. It was butterflies not me having to pee.

Turn Tables Turn and Tables Turn

I have a turn table. It plays music that envelops the room and captivates both my attention and my soul. The music and words fill a space that most people wouldnt even know was empty. Yet those arent even the turning tables most on my mind. My posts over the months or years have often been full of tales of love and heartache and longing and loneliness and growth, some people are indirectly wrote about repeatedly and others just once. There was this one inspiration for quite some time. The words recorded in the past would indicate torn feelings and epicness along with gratefulness and annoyance. Regardless, there are so many words already written on this individual.

And today, one a very rare occasion I found the tables unrighted. Words of affirmation were seeked and for once I felt like he needed me more than I needed him. I saw weakness so cleverly masked and a hint of aching. And for each hidden thought or feeling that was uncovered my heart ached a tiny bit. I just wished I could have been on that side of the world to express how much more amazing he is than most people. How he has things more figured out than the average person and that his insane passion to follow his dreams and to live life doing things that he enjoys is captivating and contagious.

He has picked me up from my lowest points and carried me until I could stand again. He has been that person that knew the most inappropriate thing to say to make me laugh when all I could do was cry. He has been the one to hear everything that I said, didnt want to say and the things I just didnt say and yet never looked down on me. He is someone that everyone would be lucky to truly know. He wont read this, but in those hours today when I had the chance to remind him of his epicness it felt like I was actually stepping up when it was my turn. And I appreciated every second that I could help. And yet even with the unrighted tables he still checked up on our last convo that had kept me awake during hours I should have been asleep.

Some people change your life. Then they leave. And some people change your life and never leave. Regardless of the miles and countries and oceans I hope that we always can be that person for each other. Someone that will listen regardless of the hour or the issue and never judge.  I hope when you grow up you have a robot that will put your pants on for you. Enjoy your lame package, it should arrive in two weeksish.