Saturday, January 30, 2010

Everywhere I Go

This song gives me the

Tell me how's the way to be...

Tell me how's the way to go...

Tell me all that I should know...

(Download the mp3 here!)

Saturday, January 23, 2010

To The Batcave!

Cham-pi-on. Pronunciation [cham-pee-uhn] –noun
1. a person who has defeated all opponents in a competition so as to hold first place:
2. a person who fights for or defends any person or cause: a champion of the oppressed.
3. a fighter or warrior.

I have been thinking about a conversation I had a while back with the Magic Man, one of the most positive, stable, fearless great souls I know. He is my rock. We haven’t spoken in what seems like ages, but his words of wisdom appear like magical comedic bursts of strength before my eyes when I am up against my adversaries: negativity (Pow!), indecisiveness (Wham!), low confidence (Bam!), fear (Ka-Pow!), and on and on.

The battle is not yet won, but it is one worth fighting.

We were discussing life and other topics that seem to ravage the brain, like men, and part of the advice he gave was that you need to find someone “Strong enough to be your Champion.” Simple as that. (But there he goes telling a woman who tends to overcomplicate everything!)

I pondered his advice for a long while.

What I eventually realized is what if I don’t find what I am looking for? What if I spend all this time searching for something that may not magically appear in my life? I am not a magician; I can’t just make that kind of thing happen. It’s outside of my control. It would all be a ridiculous game of waiting, and hoping, wishing and wanting. Blah! I am a dreamer (though I'm not the only one), but I must draw the line somewhere.

So the solution is, that I will find within me that someone “strong enough to be my Champion.” I will be my own champion. I will champion the cause, which is my life. I will defeat all of my opponents. I am a fighter AND a fierce warrior. Some strengths are stronger than others, but it all comes from within. If I’ve gotten this far, I can go farther.

I like what Arnold said on becoming a champion:“The only way to be a champion is by going through these forced reps and the torture and pain. That’s why I call it the torture routine. Because it’s like forced torture. Torturing my body. What helps me is to think of this pain as pleasure. Pain makes me grow. Growing is what I want. Therefore, for me pain is pleasure. And so when I am experiencing pain I’m in heaven. It’s great. People suggest this is masochistic. But they’re wrong. I like pain for a particular reason. I don’t like needle’s stuck in my arm. But I do like the pain that is necessary to be a champion.”

That can be applied to real life.

The 12 Traits of Champions by Tom Venuto. Google will show you the way to the full version, but in semi-short:

(1) Champions are positive thinkers; they believe in themselves.
Undoubtedly the most important quality that all champions share is an unwavering belief that they will succeed. Champions always look for the good in every situation. No matter what obstacles they encounter, they always continue to think positive. Without confidence, faith in your abilities, and positive mental attitude, you’ve defeated yourself before you ever step onstage.

(2) Champions visualize their successes.
Champions understand the importance of positive mental imagery or visualization. They do this over and over in their minds hundreds or even thousands of times before it becomes physical reality.

(3) Champions surround themselves with positive people and avoid negative influences.
Champions keep themselves in a "positive shell" and do not associate with negative people, places, or things.

(4) Champions are goal setters.
Champions realize that if they don’t know where they’re going, that is exactly where they’ll end up; nowhere! Champions consistently set long and short-term goals. From day to day workout goals to long term career objectives, champion’s have written out specific, measurable goals with a deadline.

(5) Champions have a burning desire to succeed.
Champions not only have goals, but they ardently desire them. They want it and they want it badly.

(6) Champions are disciplined and consistent.
Champions live and breathe the lifestyle all year round. They know there is no off-season and success does not come overnight.

(7) Champions are persistent.
Champions never, ever quit. They know that if they persist long enough, eventually they must succeed.

(8) Champions learn from their failures.
Champions don't view losses as failures, they see them as learning experiences. Champions know that they haven’t failed until they quit; but once they quit, then they have failed. A champion finds a lesson in every apparent loss and finds ways to grow from it.

(9) Champions have incredible powers of focus and concentration.
Champions set goals and then maintain a laser-like focus on them. They have the ability to always keep the long term objective in their sights while focusing 100% on what they are doing at the moment.

(10) Champions have a deep love and boundless enthusiasm for the sport.
To a loser, training and dieting is work and drudgery. To a champion, training and dieting are a love, a joy, and a passion. Champions are enthusiastic about what they do; they can’t wait to train each day. Champions are doing what they love, so to them it’s not work at all, its fun!

(11) Champions strive for constant and never ending improvement.
Champions are never satisfied with the status quo; they never rest on their laurels. Champions aim for small improvements every day in every way. Champions are open-minded and are always looking for a better way to do things. Although champions are always striving for more, they also realize that success is a journey, so they enjoy each moment and savor every step along the way.

(12) Champions are hard workers; they are willing to go the extra mile.
Positive thinking, goal setting, visualization, desire, persistence, and enthusiasm are vital, but without action and hard work, these traits are all worthless. Champions take consistent action and they are willing to do the things that the losers are not. In short, they go the extra mile.

Wednesday, January 20, 2010

Dirty Laundry

Tonight I had a date with myself at the laundromat. How fun. It was a great joy walking into the stifling humid stench of an individual who obviously refuses to bathe.

Most of the time, I'm very tolerant of people but this is one thing I can't understand because you look like you could be a normal young guy in real life, and quite frankly it pisses me right off. Can. You. Not. Smell. Yourself? Why. Do. You. Not. Care?

Yes, we are all human - hence the reason for showers and cologne and all that good stuff. I'm sorry if you only get to the laundromat once a month, but really, if you stopped playing World of Warcraft 24/7, had a shave and transported yourself back into the real world you would understand why people are holding their shirts up to their nose when they walk by and tsk -tsk -ing you when you forget to say thank you as they hold the door open. Manners. Gotta have them.

Let me just say, that I am so thankful for people (especially men! mmm, your cologne so good, so sexy) who take pride in personal hygiene, and have enough common sense to realize the importance of manners & etiquette.

It's only a few more days until front loaders are installed. It wasn't so bad, I survived as did the others. Light at the end of the tunnel. Hallelujah!

And luckily across the way there is a Starbucks. I was able to escape for a while with Ayn Rand narrating her philosophy to me while I inhaled the invigorating aroma of Arabica beans. And I shrugged, with Atlas.

On normal days, I love doing laundry. I love having fresh bedding to cozy up to at night. I love hanging my clothes outside on a line, they smell so divine; there's the retro factor and it's one of those things you can do while you clear your head... the joys of simple day-to-day tasks.

With no yard or line, this is not so easy, and I'm not sure what the neighbours think with my clothes strewn over the railings and hanging from awnings. The panties stay indoors, however. I refuse to use the dryer unless I have to. Planet friendly. It's a huge waste of energy, money and clothes last way longer. How many million dryers are there out there, running daily, hourly? Shit! I'd be happy without a dryer to begin with.

And I guess I always wondered. With about 20 dryers going at the laundromat as well as the many washers, whether or not we are heightening our risk of cancer. Electromagnetic frequencies=Radiation=Ionization=Damage of the D.N.A.=Cancer? It all adds up over time.

Well, at least my clothes are clean.

Tuesday, January 19, 2010

It's A Drag

Supporting friends has never been more amusing...

Sunday, January 17, 2010

The Permanent Theme Which Prevails Over All Others Is The Persistence of Desire

You found me
In my dreams
Spanning reality
A vivid clear

Words lingered
Suspended between
Two long lost souls
Passionately entwined
An eternal embrace

I awoke heavy hearted
Thunder beneath my ribs
On the verge of tears

Reality intervenes
As you drift away
Like the ebb of the tide
Returning to sea

Sunday, January 10, 2010

The Underwire Fell Out, Again! #&@*!

When I'm angry, I clean like a 1950s housewife. I don't know what it is but there's something therapeutic about scrubbing a bathtub or washing the wall or throwing all my belongings out, while blaring music such as Basement Jaxx, or the likes thereof.

Everything must go.

Everything that's been sitting in drawers, on hangers, collecting dust and taking up space.

I don't fit the wee sparkling dress I wore for Halloween back in '98. What was it now... a dancer from Electric Circus with my partner in crime CJ where I played bass in the basement, danced in the living room and I think I even barfed on the front street and had to be held up and put into the automobile. Fun times. Yeah, that dress should have been sent to goodwill years ago but I'm having a hard time parting with it, only because it makes me laugh. Obviously, at myself.

Gone is all the bathroom junk. The chemicals and parabens that I long ago stopped using, but for some reason kept under the sink. I did decide to keep the Lunapads my sister gave me. Yes, they make those. And no, I've just never been able to go there. But one can always hope for a greener future. Right.

Gone are EVERY pair of holy socks (sorry God) I ever owned and suckered myself into wearing the odd time. I mean, what the hell woman! Let's just face it, there is no time to sit around darning those socks.

Gone are old bras and I've got a serious bone to pick with the inventor of the underwired bra, or whomever is making these half-assed contraptions. Why is it that these underwires eventually find their way out of the bra and into the washer? Is it just me? This is discusting! A perfectly good and sexy bra winds up suffering this fate only to end up stuffed into the bottom of a drawer never to be seen or worn again. I had thirteen in there. THIRTEEN!

And of course, the lie I told myself: I will get around to sewing them back in one of these days. This has got to stop. First of all, the list of things to do "one of these days" keeps growing, along with the list of "shoulds"...and well screw that vocabulary, and all those lists. And secondly, I don't fit that bra I wore in grade 10. In fact, my boobs are so much bigger now.

This is just the tip of the iceberg.


Why do we keep all this "stuff"?

Our Love Is But A Fire

I just bought Hauntario, the new album by The Wheat Pool, a Canadian indie/alt country band. They are marvelous, and no I'm not bias because they hail from Edmonton - my old hometown & stomping grounds. Something about their music kind of makes me all nostaligic. It's relatable. This is one of those cds that keeps you company on a long drive and never gets old. SO. GOOD.

If our love is but a fire then our hearts must be made of wood...

Tuesday, January 5, 2010

Mama's Gonna Make All Your Nightmares Come True

Having no children to mother, I can't say that I fully understand the whole motherly instinct thing...and trust me, the ol' bio clock is not ticking. I repeat, NOT ticking. But once in a while, I ponder the idea of this instinctive, protective love.

Driving home one night, I saw in the headlights a mother raccoon and her herd of five babies crossing the highway...I honked my horn in hopes of motivating her to hurry across. I mean, come on now, this is a busy road my dear.

Instead, she stops dead in her tracks in the middle of the road and positions herself in front of her adorable family, arms outstretched as if to say "Back off lady, back the fuck off!"

As I drive by, she moves to keep sheltering her crew all the while staring me down. Of course, she was probably scared out of her wits of this huge loud blinding beast barrelling towards her, so why wouldn't she jump to protect her loved ones?

Still, it was such a beautiful, yet terrifying sight as I attempted to photograph it to my mind in between frantic checks for oncoming traffic. I cursed myself, for my reaction to save them could have in fact sealed their fate. Silly women do silly things at times.

A gal I know recently gave birth. The other day, the scene turned violent as a stranger...yes a STRANGER, decided they would take the baby out of the carseat, without a word. Is that not one of the strangest thing a stranger could do? It was a 'harmless' event, kind of like those funny people coochiecooing a baby in a cart at the grocery market or when that crazy senior greets you by pinching your cheeks. But to the mother, as the maternal instinct kicks in, she is genetically programmed to protect and defend at all costs. Luckily, everyone survived.

Last night, somebody decided it would be a good idea to hang my cat upside down. It took every ounce of strength to stop me from pummeling the sob. I mean, what are you trying to do - kill my cat? All the blood is rushing to his small head and his enlarged pupils clearly indicate he is very afraid. I don't care if you thought it would be funny, or that it was something to do on a Monday night. Clearly, you are in need of a hobby and my cat is in need of some bodyguards. Or perhaps I overreacted. It happens.

I just really love my cat.

So I understand, at least a little bit... what goes on when you feel as though your "baby" is threatened, even when he, she or they may not be.

After the fact, it is at least mildly amusing.

Friday, January 1, 2010

I'm A Dreamer, But I'm Not The Only One

So a new year has begun, again. As I drink some more Baileys, I tell myself I'd come up with a few resolutions. I tell myself all sorts of things. Yes, I want to create more art and music, and get healthier and wiser and do all the same things I want to do every year. They are just part of the lifetime to do list. Still it's kind of exciting turning the page into a new year. A new year with unforseen adventures and possibilities. And blah blah blah.

I'm focused on making it feel more like home here on this beautiful rainy island. It might not be my home for life, but its my home for life right now. I want to come home to a place I adore. A place that feels real and all homely and cozy. I want to have kindred spirits over and cook turkeys and pour wine and laugh and dance. I am keeping a lookout for a larger space in a more central location...but will know when the time is right. I know that you cannot live in the past, and I know for sure that you cannot live in two provinces at once. You can visit, but you need a place where you can call your own. I am tired of being torn in half and not certain of where I stand. So this is my promise to myself to get off the fence. That fence is poking me in the ass. I will land on solid ground. On my own two big feet.

I am watching The Family Man right now. It's an oldie but goodie. The man who gets a glimpse into what his life would have been like, if he had made a different choice. And a look into the things that really matter. It's kind of sad really. But at least, in the end he was able to make another choice and change his future. I wonder if things could really be that simple. Some things are I suppose, if we can see it.

I wonder if I really would have made different choices. Alright, a few. Mostly who would I be now? But more importantly, I wonder what kind of choices I will make. How do you know what the right choice is? What will I choose? What will you choose?

Choices are to be made. They will define the future. And the future looks bright.

The future is not some mediocre existence where we are settling for each other because it's easy or because it's too much work to do something different. And we're too afraid to do anything about it. It's a future where we will decide to live our best life. And if we do choose to be with someone, it will be with someone who makes us a better person. Someone who pushes us to grow, to change, to explore, to love, to sacrifice without sacrificing who we are, to understand and to live. Someone "strong enough to be our champion" someone wise I know once put it. Thank the sun and the moon for putting incredible people in our paths. All of them.

What will I do? Where will I be? Who will I be with? Will I marry? Will I have babies? Will they grow up to be successful and passionate about their own lives? Will I grow old with someone I adore, who adores me just the same? Or will I settle for someone I can tolerate, and vice versa? As so many people do these days. What kind of sick and twisted life would that be? No, it is not enough!

What will we do with our lives? With our 2010. 2011. 2012. Nothing changes but the number, unless we choose to change it. So I'm choosing to change it. To figure out what needs changing. What can stay, what can go. But that's about it really.

Oh yes, and my final resolution is to eat all the freaking chocolate I want when I want. Because this is my life and I'm choosing to not restrict myself to one of it's finest indulgences any more.

All within moderation, of course.