You give yourself away

"Go get what you want"

That's what the magicman said at the end of our conversation. He told me to write it on the bathroom mirror and take a picture. He'll watch for it.

That was Friday.

I still haven't done it.

A while back I stuck the words "Know what you want, and what you don't want" to my fridge. Remnants of a previous conversation with another deep soul.

Both of whom have taught me so much.

We have these people in our lives who speak truth...they tell it like it is...see things for what they are, see you for exactly who you are and have a way of carrying you out from underneath your delusions, setting you down on the floor, looking you right in the eyes through to your soul and ripping your very heart out with their words. It only hurts because it's real. They know it, and deep down you know it. Even if you won't admit it to yourself.

Which is exactly where I am. I can admit to that. But not to the rest.

The thing is, I know what I want. But what I want, doesn't want me.

My past is a series of choices that may have led me up to where I am today, and yes, for that I am grateful...but it took me further away from the part of my life that meant more to me than anything else and by the time I realized, it was too late. It is a hard truth to carry. I am being honest with myself when I acknowledge that this is the biggest regret of my life. So big, that I can finally admit that I was so blind to even think that I deserve anything more than what I got.




“But I love him.”

“So love him.”

“But I miss him.”

“So miss him. Send him some love and light every time you think about him, then drop it. You’re just afraid to let go of the last bits of David because then you’ll be really alone, and Liz Gilbert is scared to death of what will happen if she’s really alone. But here’s what you gotta understand, Groceries. If you clear out all that space in your mind that you’re using right now to obsess about this guy, you’ll have a vacuum there, an open spot – a doorway. And guess what the universe will do with the doorway? It will rush in – God will rush in – and fill you with more love than you ever dreamed. So stop using David to block that door. Let it go.”

“But I wish me and David could —“

He cuts me off. “See, now that’s your problem. You’re wishin’ too much, baby. You gotta stop wearing your wishbone where your backbone oughtta be.”


Go get what you want.

First step, know what you want and what you don't want.

And so the work begins...

Northern Lights

The city that just won't let go...



Late at night
Sync your heartbeat to mine
And I will never try
To forget your northern lights

What'll I do if you never find me again

The heart is a caged bird unable to fly

"There’s a bluebird in my heart that wants to get out but I’m too tough for him, I say, stay in there, I’m not going to let anybody see you..." ~ Charles Bukowski

This deep, gaping hole in my chest... will not heal. Scar tissue built a fortress around it, now they're building a foreign country with foreign rules that should have caused a revolution... instead the inhabitants conformed. Resistance is futile when the weapon is regret, guilt or fear.

Attempts to stitch it shut have ultimately been in vain. Threads that are fragile do not stay closed, the needle is dull. This open wound steadily bleeds with each pass, each pulse...a festering pool of emotional chaos with nowhere to go.

I Really Don't Know What To Call This

My beloved kitty tested positive for feline immunodeficiency virus (FIV)... which is similar to human HIV. Aids. WTF? It's been on my mind all weekend....bloody hell I exclaim! How did this happen?

He was sick all week, not eating, not drinking, sleeping a whole lot more and being generally depressed... a very big change. I took him to the vet, they did a bunch of tests, I paid a bunch of money and his white blood cells were half of what they should be...hence the FIV status which was confirmed the next day. But he seems to be recovering from whatever bug he has right now. It's been a process trying to get him to drink...using a syringe and shooting a little water into his mouth did eventually make him want to drink on his own. I've had giant cups in every room in hopes of reminding him. He is finally drinking on his own, and eating, though he's not entirely himself yet. I am just hoping...

There's no way to tell where he managed to pick up the disease... probably from the mangly looking stray that was hanging around a while back... or one of the many others running up and down the street...as it is usually contracted through contact with another infected cat. Saliva to blood. And Twitchy's a fighter. But we'll never know the actual story. I do feel rather guilty, because maybe if I had kept him indoors this might not have happened. At the same time though, I can't beat myself up...and anyways would that have been fair to him? He's a hunter, a killer, the tomcat of the neighbourhood... he runs the show around here. It's just not his nature. He knows it, I know it. And cats should have the joy of going outdoors. Unfortunately for him, he might have to be spending alot more time indoors anyways to keep him from getting sick and spreading this to other cats.

I've been doing a bit of research on FIV... in hopes of finding something that's going to help him. I don't know how long he has, but he might just have a few (or more) good years left.

Some facts on FIV

• Cats can still live a long time with FIV if they're receiving proper care & monitoring throughout their lives though it's eventually fatal
• Casual contact of cats living in the same household does not spread the virus.
• The virus cannot live outside of the cat
• An infected cat may not show any symptoms at all, or his health may either deteriorate progressively, or show a pattern of recurring illness followed by long periods of good health
• Eventually, signs of immunodeficiency begin to develop and the cat's ability to protect itself against infection is compromised. The same bacteria, viruses, fungi that are found in cats' everyday environment can cause severe illness in cats with weakened immune systems. These secondary infections are responsible for most of the clinical signs of FIV and the major cause of death
• Humans cannot catch this from cats! The HIV virus does not affect cats and the FIV virus does not affect humans.
• It sounds alot like human aids, doesn't it.
  

Life isn't purrfect, that's for sure...

Exhale

Sometimes our flame goes out, but is blown again into instant flame by an encounter with another human being...

~ Albert Schweitzer

Checklist for Idiots

Load box of truck up with furniture. Check.
Drive to specified location. Check.
Pull over to side of road. Check.
Check road is clear. Check.
Look in all mirrors. Check.
Put truck into reverse. Check.
Step on gas pedal. Check.
Back truck up onto your friend's Mazda. Check.

P-O'd

Having smashed my ankle up... twice in the last month, leaving me one limping angry malfunction of an invalid, it's been taking some time to get it back up and running full force. It's slowing me down, big time. I feel I am falling behind.

And fear now grips...it's like an overtight tensor bandage that you can't yank off, digging in and suffocating the blood right out from under your skin, your toes are turning blue...

Fear of falling, fear of corners. Especially those corners on the slippery wooden gym floors, with our coach screaming "Run! Run! Don't stop running! You're not running! RUN ON THOSE SKATES! RUN!!!" and your brain telling you "ANY SECOND now you are just going to LOSE IT and go flying into the wall, rupturing your ankle into a million splinters on the way down, never to skate on it again. Of course, it does feel a whole lot nicer falling on wooden floors, over the unforgiving cement. BUT THAT'S BESIDE THE POINT! I used to be fearless! Alright, way closer to fearless than I am right now!

Our coach gave us a speech on this fear, how it isn't getting us anywhere and we need to really push ourselves...basically: get the F over it! He's been brutally honest and his words are sticking.

I'm pissed though. At my ankle, at myself.

On another note, I think I've pulled or torn the back of my knee... I've got a nice circular red burst of something...blood vessel? The bruises are piling on...I'm still upset at my perma-bruise, the road rash from summer that's healed into a beautiful scar on the front of my leg. Just lovely in a dress! It's a good thing I'm so angry, because this is the perfect sport for me.

GRRRRRROOOWWWLLL!

But I'm not a quitter.

And all in all, I think I did pretty well this morning and last night. I did push myself. I did try. I stumbled, It gave, I fell, I panted, I nearly drowned in my sweat, I burned, I hurt, I yelled obscentities in my head, I was nowhere near the time I should be...it made me want to punch walls and spit blood but I made it to the end and the ankle is all the more stronger.

One day at a time woman, one day at a time!

Amen.

Two Bare Knuckle Rights

The Oilers doused the Flames last night...4-0...first game of what looks like it could be a great season, even with a bunch of rookies!

All the more sweeter being our rival team...Take that, Calgary!

Can You Lay Eggs?

And now for the incredible metal eating bird

Emotional Blackmail

We broke up.

Got back together.

I was unsure.

So I signed the lease.

We broke up. Again.

Got back together. Again.

I broke the lease on my way to get the key.

We are where we were a week or two, and far longer, ago.

Nowhere...

What am I doing?
Everyone thinks I'm nuts.
I know I'm nuts...
And I am certainly making some very strange decisions as of late...

Such as...

1) Calling my new landlord at 2:00pm to confirm our scheduled meetup that evening to pick up the key, then calling him back a few hours later to find him unreachable and having him finally answer the phone while on the way to the apartment, to say that you have decided to not take the apartment, causing him to have to turn around, drive all the way back home to pick up your deposit, and drive all the way back...then having to face him, and his wife, in shame and explain the reasoning to your 180 degree change of mind within the last few hours...

Lesson learned: Always give yourself more than a few hours to change your mind. Sleep on it. Talk it out with somebody! Anybody! Let the emotions cool down and then decide...like a normal person. Oh, and count yourself extremely lucky when you get your entire damage/pet deposit back when you break your lease because your new, now ex-, landlords are in fact reasonable people...and you, clearly, are not.

2) Ordering cheques from my bank to my new address and calling the next morning to cancel them only to find out they had already been shipped to the new address, BLANK... and having to open a new bank account and cancel the old bank account because apparently the bank cannot stop fifty numbered cheques from being cashed into your account without turning the entire cheque cashing ability right off...

Lesson learned: Do not put your new address on anything until you are carrying boxes into the front door of your new place... EVER!

And the biggest kicker of them all...

3) Deciding to leave, then choosing to stay. Only because you feel guilty because he is angry and laid off and accusing you of trying to bankrupt him and make him sell his truck and end up on the street because he can't afford the place on his own right now...And only because he says he'll change. He'll quit. He wants to quit. He'll do it for me...

He's not quitting...he continues to be consumed by his addiction and I continue to be consumed...

Lesson learned: How foolish am I...

Close, but no cigar

"I'm leaving you."

He doesn't know yet. He's gone for the weekend, camping. I'm sorting memories and things: things to keep, things to leave. So many, things. The stereo soothes. Music gets me through...fills the spaces...sparks the soul, letting me know that yes, I am still alive in there.

It's been a long time coming...but we have arrived. We can go no further. I can stay no longer. The decision has been made. Sealed in the heart...

Things are happening faster than I had imagined. Last night, I found (with a little help from my friends♥) an apartment downtown... Available October 1. We did a walkthrough, spoke with the landlord and I am returning tonight to fill out an application.

I am scared out of my mind. Where is my mind? I am dreading the conversation upon his return. Even more so now, as he told me today before he left that his boss was talking about laying him off next week. Though it's not for certain, it still makes me feel like that much more of an ass.

My heart is racing.

My lungs are shrieking.

My cat is shedding.

Valium... Gin... A big fat Cuban... Oh the endlessly tempting options at hand...

You have to consider everyday happens only once. You must not waste a single one. There will come a time when you will want more time so make sure you spend wisely. ~ BP

Missing

For a moment there,
she thought she'd lost herself.

Then, she realized,

"It's true."

I Told You I Was Freaky Baby

Let's make two life size cardboard cut outs of our bodies and then pose them into sensual positions...

Bird's Eye View

My sister is visiting for the week... we ended up at the North Island Recovery Centre, which is a non-profit organization that looks out for the Vancouver Island wildlife who are injured, orphaned or otherwise ill....


Albino Raven...

"NIWRA became internationally known when a local farmer unknowingly left a euthanised cow in a field for the eagles to eat. The cow had been euthanised with a barbiturate and should have been buried. Neighbours of the farmer began calling NIWRA when they discovered eagles lying lifeless on the ground. Due to the tremendous community support and the media, NIWRA, volunteers and veterinarians were able to save and release 25 of the 29 eagles that were found."


These eagles will eventually be released into the wild...


Teeth & Bone...

Silhouette...
Emily... what a cutie.


My own little wild animal...


Parksville Beach...

Sunday Dinners Make The World Go Round

The warm rich aroma wafts through my nose as the Spanakopita cools, prompting me to pour myself a glass of red wine and sip on some anticipation. I am exploring the world Sunday nights in an attempt to bring home, home. Sunday dinner's at mom's... cooking together, sharing a meal and family-somewhat-togetherness, is something I have been missing. It started last weekend in Thailand... a green curry coconut dish with chicken, sweet potato, kaffir and jasmine rice...recipe compliments of the French artist I know who cracked Gabriel's secret code. Tonight, is Greece.... with the Spanakopita and Horiatiki Salata...aka Greek Salad. I didn't have time for Baklava. And I aspire to make it to every country. One big global culinary experiment. I love ethnic food, I really love cooking and I really really want you to come over for dinner because I have way too much Greek food over here...OPA!!!

Coach Ain't Nice

Last night I thought I was dying. I came home with dried tears plastered to my sweaty face. Our derby coach, whom we love to hate, is making us beg for mercy and it was the first night I began to clue in as to how much more work I have to do on this nearly-thirty bod to get up the speed, endurance & strength I need to be a full force to be reckoned with.

I lay panting on the dead straw grass by the track, my heart clawing herself out of my ribcage. My muscles collapsed after twenty laps of hell and sharp corners. Before all of the drills and drops and slides and collisions. I smashed into my teammate full force when she suddenly stepped into my path. It was either her or the bordering pile of gravel. There wasn't much time to think about which one would be worse, in the end I took her out. Or should I say she took me out. Either way, it felt like I hit a brick wall at 100 miles per hour. To top it all off, coach made us run around the entire loop in our socks, hard cement vibrating our knee joints. I have not pushed my body to that extreme in a long time nor swore to myself such obscenities. But I lived to whine about it today and am in much less pain than had been expected.

We have scored a sweet deal at the gym for September and I've decided to give it another go. I don't mind gyms (when I can actually get my ass to commit) however I do mind crowded gyms and this one tends to be busy. Who wants to wait for equipment, especially in good weather.


I'm putting together a playlist to work out to. I've decided Google, you've let me down. I'm done googling you for good workout music. I mean, some of the discusting vomit you spew up... I refuse to workout to the Jonas Brothers! Or Justin Bieber. It's based on personal preference yes, but holy mother of Jebus is there anyone out there that has even a tiny similarity? Please lord.

I'm kind of in a hip-hop, rap, electro dance mood these days because it pumps me up and that's about all I need right now. I like the beats... Love it or hate it...it's a work in progress and, for a small fee, is available for your listening pleasure on the sidebar.

Beautiful - Eminem
Not Afraid - Eminem
Love Lockdown - Kanye West
Sexy Chick - David Guetta ft. Akon
Dynamite - Taio Cruz
Everybody - Rudenko (radio edit)
Dirty Picture - Taio Cruz ft. Ke$ha
Stronger - Kanye West
Break Your Heart - Taio Cruz ft. Ludacris
Memories - David Guetta w/ Kid Cudi
Winner - Jamie Foxx
Body Bounce - Akon w/ Kardinal Offishall
Whatta Night - Ricky J
Pursuit of Happiness - Kid Cudi w/ MGMT
Run This Town - Jay Z & Rhianna
Yes - LMFAO
My Chick Bad - Ludacris
Electric Feel - MGMT
Give It To Me - Madonna
Love The Way You Lie - Eminem

What songs pump you up?

Human Meat Package

PETA's latest shockvertising efforts at Times Square... for their Meat is Murder campaign. "All meat comes from somebody."

If that doesn't make you lose your appetite...

On Your Street

Give me goosebumps...

Purple Progenitors

"We inhabit the blue planet, but our knowledge of life underneath the blue surfaces of the ocean remains surprisingly limited. In reality, investigations of marine life have just begun, and it is only now, when we can utilize custom-built research ships and the finest modern technology, that we can learn how ecosystems in the oceans are structured and function."

Living fossils found along the undersea mountain chain that divides the Atlantic ocean lengthwise:

Purple Progenitor

"One of three new species of enteropneust acorn worm discovered during the mid-Atlantic survey, the creature has no eyes, no obvious sense organs, and no brain. "This is about as primitive as you can go," team member Monty Priede said. But, he added, "they've got a head end and a tail end—the basic body plan of vertebrates." Such living fossils 'represent the first mobile animals.' "

Interesting, don't you think?
More on the MAR-ECO website.

Roots In A Tree

'You do not need to be loved, not at the cost of yourself. Of all the people you will know in a lifetime, you are the only one you will never leave or lose.'

I've been exploring my family of origin, going back to my roots in hopes of reconcilling some of the issues that are holding me back at this very point in my life. Anxiety, depression, anger, fear and recurrent relationship problems are often a result of unresolved issues from the past. This is not a new concept, but it certainly feels new when you explore it from a very personal angle. When you face it head on and demand to yourself that you make an attempt to resolve it, rather than pushing it aside and ignoring it as you have done thus far. It is easy to remain in that 'safe place' of delusion and denial. But I'm tired of being there, being stuck and in a constant haze.

I can definitely say I've grown immensely over the past few years, especially having 'left the family' and branched out on my own...moving to another province altogether and having to rely mostly on myself to meet my own needs. I still struggle with getting my needs met, or should I say meeting them. I'm not the most reliable person to myself. I'm further along from where I've come from, but not as far as I'd like to go. Obviously this is an ongoing endeavor. A lifetime of exploring, growing and discovery of the self. This should never cease.


I read this quote recently and it's kind of stuck with me: "Emotions are energies in motion. If they are not expressed, the energy is repressed. As energy, it has to go somewhere. Without our emotions we can't know where we are with our basic needs. Without our basic needs we cannot live as functional human beings. To deny our emotions is to deny the ground and vital energy of our life."

These repressed energies are a dark blanket of death on our souls. They eat away at our very heart, killing us slowly. You can try to ignore them, but they won't go away. The only solution is to fill their place with something brighter. Let the light in. And I'm not talking God here, though if that's what works for you by all means.

Healthy families allow for the expression of emotion. Dysfunctional families squash them. We develop survival behaviors in response to stressors - which can be in the form of an addiction (alcoholism, drug addictions, violence, abuse, rage, work addictions, etc) or things such as a divorce or death in the family. Each member of the family adapts to or attempts to control the stressor. The fight or flight scenario. Survival (denial, dissociation, repression, withdrawal, anger, reactions, reenacting behaviors or acting out, etc) often becomes the norm. And these patterns continue throughout life. Back then they were protective, now they are destructive.

Our families have a huge impact on who we become. However, we are constantly becoming and we don't have to be stuck in the same damaging cycles. We can change.

There is a ton of good information out there, some of which is very interesting...on the family system as a whole, what we learn as children and carry into our adult years, and of course the power of the mind.

Cement Kissed

In the beginning, there were broken bones, cracked skulls, visits to ER and trips to the morgue. There were splintered wrists, smashed up knees, collapsed temporals and well, brains all over the cement.

Then... God created the helmet, the knee pads, the wrist guards and the elbow pads. All of this was done on the first day after.

Daily, we thank Him for his ingenuity as we take off in a mad dash, colliding into bodies at unbelievable speed. We catapult through the air not knowing which way is up or which is down, crash landing into the unforgiving cement. Our breath escapes in a whoosh and our eyes are thrown back into the cavernous pockets of our heads. A shock escapes the lips of observers as we lie there on the ground, stunned & speechless for a moment and gather our wits. But we don't give up. We get up.

Roller Derby. This ain't no game for pussies.

That which does not kill me makes me stronger ~ Nietzsche

I AM. Canadian. EH!

Happy HST Day! A big shout-out to Gordon Campbell & the gov't for making our Canada Day extra memorable. Today marks the first day of our new tax: H.S.T. (Harmonized Sales Tax). Not that this is entirely new, as we've been anticipating this for months. Apparently 700,000 signatures on the 'No HST' petition means nothing to our leaders.

From this day forward, we British Columbians can look forward to paying a nice 12% tax on a whole new whack of things: restaurant bills, dry cleaning, electricity, heating, internet, home service calls by electricians, plumbers, carpenters, landscaping, lawn care, private snow removal, hotel rooms, taxis, campsites, domestic air, rail, boat and bus travel, magazines, home renos, car sales, gas, real estate commissions, massage therapy, vitamins, golfing, gym fees, sports lessons, live theatre tickets, hockey rink & hall rental fees, fitness training, haircuts, manicures, funeral services, legal fees, cigarettes, hunting/fishing licenses, investment portfolios. Yes, pretty much everything. Because we don't pay enough taxes already.

The good news? Starbucks is now offering FREE wi-fi! Maybe they feel badly about the HST hike on their lattes.

The even better news? Alcohol is going down.

And dammit, it is a day to be celebrated nonetheless!!!! Canada, our home and native land.

Cheers!

Heartbeats

Repeat, please.

Mom, There's A Penis In My Pot

I've been watching these little "thingies" growing in the soil of my rubber plant for the last week or so. When they first showed the top of their heads, I thought my plant must be growing a new stem. Strange, I thought as they are bright yellow and look nothing like the stem already towering above it. Today I realized that I am pretty sure it no longer looks like the start of a stem. It is one giant clusterfuck of bright yellow penises. Multiple sizes and shapes, growing steadily as we speak.

What, the...

Clearly this one's way over my head, so I dial my mother who thankfully is of the green thumb variety. She's not home. I ponder these strange happenings some more and watch an episode of the IT Crowd to distract my mind from thinking of... what I was thinking of. She calls back. I explain the situation as best I could without laughing, or mentioning the P word.

"Ahhh", she says, "You have a fungi". Immediately, I feel the colour drain from my face and my innards contort in discust. This was no longer a matter of simple curiousity and amusement. This was war. Some infectious contagious monster was living not only in my plant's home but my home... spreading it's toxic plague! I DON'T THINK SO! I took that sucker in one quick pull and out the door he went.

Unfortunately there is another one starting to grow and I don't know how many are going to spring up...so she suggested to remove all the soil, wash the plant with warm water and fill it with fresh dirt. All should be well by then. One would hope. Mother knows best.

I'm hoping this FUNGI did arrive in the soil, as I was informed that the spore of the fungus could have floated through the air and landed in the pot. It is right next to the window after all. Or worse, it could have already been inside the house and bright yellow penises could be sprouting up all over the place. The floor, the couch, the kitchen table. In that case I'm on the next train outta here!

The Small Words In My Body

Believer I am, but admit it:
words will not cure everything.
Breathless unless in the mouth,
on a page, they are crushed black spiders.
They have nothing to do with the details
that make a life.
Every language is different and none exact.

Close the books then.
They cannot cure this.
On the shelf they clench
each other, spines rigid with silence.

This beaten leather bag,
my body, these buckets of blood and bone.
They are my own.
There's no way to drain or erase
myself.

Openings do not close.
My blood writes a story
I cannot believe.

I crash in a sea of white sheets.
I sharpen my scissors
and select a knife.
I clip and slice
the small words from here.

And the splitting cells,
the tale whispering in my blood
cannot protest
but shreds to silence.
I scrape out the scrawl, this mistake.

As with my kinder nightmares,
I forget just as I wake.

By Karen Connelly

Crabnapped

Leaving tranquility behind this weekend, I hopped the ferry and sailed across the Pacific to the mad-rat-race of Vancouver... to catch up with my mother visiting from the Prairies, my big sis & her kids from the Okanagan and a menagerie of local comical characters also known as 'the Relatives'.

We met at Crescent Beach for Greek at Pelagos, overpriced frozen milk at a sidewalk shop and a frolic in the sunny wet sand. My nieces had not yet seen the ocean, so this in itself was a huge thrill for them. Especially when the tide went out and we could walk along the sandbar.

Imagine their surprise while washing their newly collected shells on my uncle's patio, when out crawls a crab. Of course, this was the highlight of the evening as they fondled and harassed this poor discombobulated (I love that word) little crab. My niece insisted on taking it home with her to put it in her fish tank. She didn't believe us when we told her it would not survive the long ride to Kelowna, let alone being in a fresh water fish tank with other, larger, hungrier fish. We tried to explain that it needed salty ocean water... but her solution was to pour some tap water into the cup and dump in some table salt. Kids, they are so creative!

We awoke next morning to find the crab alive and well (somewhat) and it began again. The arguing, the crying, the insisting. Finally, she agreed that her aunt would take the crab back to the ferry with her and let him out on the beach. The things I get suckered into. Deep down though, the animal lover in me was relieved. Phew! All for a little crab.

They say their goodbyes and I crabsit the crab for a good portion of the rest of the day after they've left... Arriving at the ferry, I find that there is no way to get down to the water - as it was all fenced in. And of course, I could not just throw it off the side into the deep waters as it was still a young lad and the waters were churning. The crab had already been through so much!

So I carry my friend onboard and we sit up top in the sun. I read my book and take a break to open the hole-punched lid periodicly to check on the little guy, shielding him from the cold wind. By now, we've bonded. I tell him it's not much further. He knows I've lost my mind and other passengers look at me oddly. However, it is my mission of the day to get him to his new home safely. Once again, the area to the water is fenced off... so we drive, stopping along the way at one rocky access. However, in flip-flops, getting down there was treacherous, so we continued on to a more suitable location. Surprisingly enough, the crab survived the entire ordeal to find himself swimming away in the cool salty ocean waters of Nanaimo.

He didn't look back.

"As he got closer, he noticed that the figure was that of a young man, and that what he was doing was not dancing at all. The young man was reaching down to the shore, picking up small objects, and throwing them into the ocean. He came closer still and called out "Good morning! May I ask what it is that you are doing?" The young man paused, looked up, and replied "Throwing starfish into the ocean." "I must ask, then, why are you throwing starfish into the ocean?" asked the somewhat startled wise man. To this, the young man replied, "The sun is up and the tide is going out. If I don't throw them in, they'll die."

Upon hearing this, the wise man commented, "But, young man, do you not realize that there are miles and miles of beach and there are starfish all along every mile? You can't possibly make a difference!" At this, the young man bent down, picked up yet another starfish, and threw it into the ocean. As it met the water, he said, "It made a difference for that one."

Battlefield

Thought I had it mapped out but I guess I didn't, this fuckin' black cloud
still follows me around but it's time to exorcise these demons
These muh'fuckers are doin jumpin jacks now

Is this the edge of sanity? Destruction. Heart on fire, a blazing pile of sizzling muscle. The smell of burning flesh and bone fills the stagnant air. Hot. Smoke. Black clouds hang low. Smouldering sinews once beating, now charred. The soul lingers above looking down, hopeful of something worth saving. And the fire rages on...I've never been one to which making decisions come easy. I consider it one of my biggest flaws.... though should I put some more thought into it, I would likely come up with others more enormous in proportion!

When I was "younger", I made decisions based on my immaturity...flown by the seat of my pants. I didn't think about the consequences of my actions... I just did it and paid later. Smartest thing to do? No. But did I learn from it? Yes. Sort of. Kind of? I don't know really. I would like to think that I have.

As I've grown "older" (old, young, it's all relative), I noticed that it takes me ages to decide upon something. Am I now overanalyzing a situation? Making things more complicated than they really are? It is a conscious choice I make to choose to make a choice. I have to force myself to just pick something. Pick one. Pick the other. Go with your gut. Go with your heart. Go with your head. Go bury your head under the sand. Do something. Anything.

I hate that this inability to choose has so much power over my life. And it's not because I don't want to choose, it's usually because I see the good and tend to overlook the bad. And the bad is what ultimately consumes. I'm stuck with this perpetual habit or curse should I say. Unable to choose, or choosing not to choose. Someone once told me years ago that not choosing is also a choice. Wise words those are. What am I afraid of? Why can I not choose? What is holding me back? I think I know what the right choice to make is, yet I do not make it. Why?

This is insanity. Doing the same thing, over and over again.

I pinch myself to find I am wide awake and screaming.

Time Travel

I am only a woman. A living-breathing-feeling-hot-blooded woman. How can I escape these crazy thoughts...this crazy mind. That thinks this way and is driven to act most ridiculously. There is one thing for certain: I am a BIG FLIRT. There is no cure for this disease. At least, not yet.

It really doesn't help when an old flame from twelve years ago looks you up online and his gay friend also sends you a message saying 'he' was looking for 'you'... I mean, what is that? Where did this come from? It never went anywhere back then, so why is it coming up now? Years later? Unfinished business? A question of what-if? Or just purely what-is?

He was a drummer with a pony-tail. I pretended to play the flute. We flirted through high school band class and he made me blush like a tomato. (Apparently I still haven't out grown the whole tomato thing) We didn't date. We were never a couple. We never did more than make out like idiots. He shoved ice-cold slush down my shirt as we wrestled in the winter snow, shit-faced and face-washed, drowning my glow-blue-in-the-dark watch. That was a great watch by the way, and I'm still pissed about it.

We end up chatting as if there were no time lapse in between. Two big flirts. One chatty box. This could only mean trouble. Double-trouble.

I went to bed feeling strangely rejuvenated and woke up wondering why in hell I opened that can of worms.

This guy brings out my dark side and is driving me to drink. I'm still an ass. Still a flirt. Still know how to push those buttons. Still "Trouble". Will that ever change?

Though looking back on my life thus far... and should I ever have a chance to jump in a time-machine...I probably would have done things a little differently... maybe have skipped a few and focused on the one who was truly important.

I'm all strung out, my heart is fried.

Let's Make Out

Images by Julia Randall in coloured pencil

Strong As The Roots Of A Big Old Gum Tree

"Emphasis placed on the body and mind... as the heart is often somewhere behind...and it's strange"

This is, without a doubt, my favourite song right now. Kind of makes me all sentimental and such.

Turbans, Fezzes, Plaids, Bones & Flesh

"Man is the Reasoning Animal. Such is the claim. I think it is open to dispute. Indeed, my experiments have proven to me that he is the Unreasoning Animal... In truth, man is incurably foolish. Simple things which other animals easily learn, he is incapable of learning.

Among my experiments was this. In an hour I taught a cat and a dog to be friends. I put them in a cage. In another hour I taught them to be friends with a rabbit. In the course of two days I was able to add a fox, a goose, a squirrel and some doves. Finally a monkey. They lived together in peace; even affectionately.

Next, in another cage I confined an Irish Catholic from Tipperary, and as soon as he seemed tame I added a Scotch Presbyterian from Aberdeen. Next a Turk from Constantinople; a Greek Christian from Crete; an Armenian; a Methodist from the wilds of Arkansas; a Buddhist from China; a Brahman from Benares. Finally, a Salvation Army Colonel from Wapping. Then I stayed away for two whole days.

When I came back to note results, the cage of Higher Animals was all right, but in the other there was but a chaos of gory odds and ends of turbans and fezzes and plaids and bones and flesh--not a specimen left alive. These Reasoning Animals had disagreed on a theological detail and carried the matter to a Higher Court."

~ Mark Twain, Letters from the Earth: Uncensored Writings.

OMG

Usher, you can love me down, break me down... even if you're not shirtless.

A Three-Legged Dog Day Afternoon

While hustling around my usual neighbourhood loop yesterday - tunes cranked, the sun warming my white legs, enjoying the early "everybody's still asleep" kind of Saturday morning - I came upon a three-legged Shepherd sniffing grass at the end of a driveway. He was so cute and I had a sudden notion to pick him up, toss him over my shoulders, gallop back to the house where we would be good friends and live happily ever after. Of course, I realized the error of my thinking ...1) I don't have the space for a dog right now, 2) my cat would probably tear his other three legs off and 3) he probably lives there and is taken care of by really nice people. So I carried on and that was that.

Later that afternoon, I noticed a post on a page that said to keep an eye out for a three-legged Shepherd that was spooked by guns at a firing range and went missing 2 weeks ago in Chemainus - which is about 35km from where I was contemplating the dognapping. 35km? A long shot, especially for a dog missing it's front leg. But 2 weeks ago? He could have made it up here, hobbling along. I mean, it's far, but not that far.

With this thought in mind, I was on the phone in a flash...however, after a few moments of trying to verbalize my excitement and the man on the other end trying to contain his own, we came to the conclusion that it probably wasn't the right dog. One was missing the back left leg, and the other, the front left leg. We discussed the absurdity of the situation...two very similar dogs, black, Shepherd, with brown legs, in the same vicinity and both of which who were missing a leg. I mean, what are the chances?! I told him I'd have another look and we hung up, hopeful yet disappointed.

Driving around the neighbourhood was futile. I considered soliciting houses of random strangers in hopes of finding this three-legged dog, but I was already running late for dinner. After asking everyone there if they knew of any such dogs in the neighbourhood, I found out that there was indeed a three-legged dog living at the very house I passed that morning.

Such is life.

I hope they find their dog.

Forgive Me For Laughing

Well what an interesting way to start the day! Long lost 'sisters in christ', whom I've never even met or heard of, are moving out to the island and hunting me down! What do I have to do, move to Venus?

1. I'm a bit curious as to what on earth the aforementioned ladies in Edmonton would be talking about these past few years. I must have my picture on a wall under a big sign that says: "Fallen Members Non-Members"...."The Evil-Doers"..."The Devil's Children"... "These Lost Sheep Must Be Found"..."Do Not Talk To These Sinners, Pray For Them Instead!"..."They Once Were Saved, But Now Must Be Found!"...

2. Which one of you quacks are giving out my number? Call display. 'Nuff said.

3. How very interesting indeed. Interesting that you would say it's interesting to see my name on Facebook when clearly both my sisters...who by the way have no recollection of meeting you or giving you my number, so you must have meant my other sister (in christ) ...are on it AND now that I think about it... a bunch of people from that very same circle as well. Which raises the question...

4. Should I, or shouldn't I remove all contacts from said "holier-than-thou, hypocritical, backward-thinkin' patriarchal nonsense of a fundamentalistic cult?" when most, if not all, are people I have shared many deep conversations, much laughter, joy and a part of my life which has led me to be the person I am today. And who I really did consider to be genuine 'friends' of the more liberal sort, in this case. Not "that other type". Tough call. Because at the same time, I wonder if these so-called friendships are conditional... the remaining fragment of a hope that I will eventually find my way back to 'the light'. If that is the case, then what on earth is the point? And what about the idea of surrounding yourself with positive people who love, uplift, inspire, support, encourage and motivate you to be a better person? No hidden agendas. No gossiping about what somebody is doing "wrong"... what are they doing right?

Now that I've had my little rant, and some time to think about it...I have come to the realization that this person who contacted me through facebook is only doing what she believes is right. I believe it is from the heart. A naive and perhaps a lost-a-bit-herself kind of heart but still, a heart. I can appreciate where it is coming from because once upon a time, I was there myself.

But I finally saw the light.