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.

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.

Anarchy on the West Coast

What is up with this rainstorm?
Why did I go out?
Why did I come home?

The power was out all morning. Pretty much across town, all day. I don't like peeing in the dark. My cat went insane. I've never seen the wind blow so hard in all of my twenty nine years. It blew me across the street and into a pile of water. The ocean is alive with angry waves.

The traffic is nuts. I took the inner route to avoid the highway winds, but everyone else had the same idea. People can't drive worth shit. Everyone in town went shopping. Chapters was a zoo. Thank GOD for Starbucks in every store, not so much the lineups, but I bought a book.


Had to feel my way to the checkout in the grocery market in pitch black while everybody ran around screaming bloody murder, stuffing their pockets and knocking aisles down (ok that part didn't actually happen, but it would be fitting) I've never been in a grocery store without the glaring lights and hum of refrigeration.

I couldn't see through the windshield and hydroplaned all the way home to find the boat shed whatchamacallit had done a sommersault into the neighbour's house, was flipped right over, ripped to shreds, banging against their siding...the garbage can halfway down the street along with everything that was under the shed. All I could say was HOLY. SHIT. as I sat there in the truck stunned. It was a beautiful sight of pure destruction by the queen bee herself: Mother Bloody Nature. I called some strong men to please get the hell over here before that damn shed chisels a hole in that damn blue house and as I write they are out there in the pouring rain dismantling the flimsy giant.


My cat is under the bed licking himself dry and I, with my wet feet, will be changing my socks, making some tea, curling up under a blanket and reading my shiny new book. This rain and wind better let up or I'm not coming out.

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.

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.

SO. MUCH. JUNK.

Why do we keep all this "stuff"?

Jesus Goes To The Porn Convention

Good Lord. I've sinned AGAIN! Well by the time I finish this post I will have. Don't worry, I've got confession tomorrow.

I've been biting my tongue on this one for a while, but it keeps rearing its head and I have a disorder. It's called 'Being unable to shut up when it comes to matters involving religion in which one finds amusing, confusing and/or sillynosis'. Any Christian man or woman who is engaging in sexual immorality of any kind is a person in conflict. Are you in conflict? XXXChurch is here to help!

Founded in 2002 by Craig Gross (who according to the website, Gross & the xxxchurch believe what Billy Graham believes- which I find a bit curious, as wouldn't "most Christians" say something along the lines of what God teaches, or what the Bible says, right off the bat? Isn't God the focus? Anyway, minor detail. The Great Billy Graham beliefs can be found here), XXXChurch is "designed to bring awareness, openness and accountability to those affected by pornography".


So what this means, is a team of Jesus-lovin' individuals will show up at your next porn event - such as the Vancouver Taboo Naughty But Nice Sex Show, handing out bibles and spreading the good news that Jesus loves them no matter what their involvement in porn, to help those addicted and offer advice to those who are merely tempted. Because we all know, watching porn here and there, livening up your sex life with some toys or whatnots, or heaven-forbid fantasizing while you masterbate is going to lead to a full blown addiction, or better yet, a trip to hell.


Don't get me wrong, I think this whole idea of an outreach for individuals who are indeed struggling is okay, but what the hell, why not set your booth up outside the doors, and mingle with the rest of the church folk, where you're not infringing on the rights of porn-friendly people, and you can feel safe knowing your eyes will not wander to the scantily clad bimbo's booty as she passes by (a sin!) or ponder the use of a rainbow dildo on display at the next booth over (a sin!)... I mean really...

This is a billion dollar industry, world-wide. It's not going anywhere. Sure, maybe you need to secure your computer so your 12 year old isn't watching it, and seek counselling if you're spending all day in front of the screen or the credit card company is after you to pay back the money you spent renting every movie at the adult video store. And yeah, if you are a woman tired of being degraded and trying to get out of the industry, by all means contact this church.

But it is what it is.

Some people like sex, others like sex toys, and some even like sex with the same sex.. (sin! sin! sin!) Some people like tattoos, which according to various religious groups is basically a sin and often results in a quote from Leviticus: "Do not cut your bodies for the dead, and do not mark your skin with tattoos." So is there a TattooChurch out there somewhere, sending out their drones for the tattoo and body art conventions?

I just say let people be people.

Craig Gross takes on Ron Jeremy in the Great Porn Debate (more vids under xxxchurch)

Jesus goes to the porn convention! (the absurdity of it all)

Mail Order

Last time I checked, it’s 2009 lady, so I am wondering why you let your so-called-husband control you and your life like that? I mean, you enter the building elbow-led like a child being dragged to the principal’s office and when you reach my vicinity, he is the one who pipes up and tells me your story and what you need?

Now I understand, English might not be your strongpoint, I get that, really I do, but I am confused. Shouldn’t he be there to support and encourage you? Shouldn’t he be the one maybe throwing you a word here or there as you at least try and explain yourself?

Stumble through it girl, I know you can do it and I would rather sit there for an hour and hear you and your scattered words, than some oppressive dictator’s word vomit.

I see the sadness in your eyes, your face, and your body language. I see what he has done to you and the life he’s stole from you. I see the way you light up when someone looks at you, and asks you the questions and allows you to take part in your life (Even when your so-called-husband still tries to cut in).

I don't understand why you are allowing this to happen, and chances are, I never will... but I do hope for your sake it is only a matter of time until you realize that you have everything you need within you to stand up and do what you have wanted to do for so long: leave the creeper and take back what’s yours. This is 2009. This is Canada. This is your life. So what are you waiting for?