the lilacs died on my birthday.
so far, being thirty is pretty horrible.
here is what i did on my summer vacation:
-baked bread and made macaroons with my mother and grandmother
-visited my grandfathers grave
-held my grandmothers hand
-drank beers on the rocks with nikki, like we did when we were seventeen.
-peed outdoors
-lay outside on the grass with my eyes closed
-waited for moments to happen
-drank tea and watched the flies circle my mother’s rhubarb
-walked around barefoot
-cried for no reason
-missed everything
-walked home alone at 4 am.
-jumped fences, tripped over my feet
-watched the sun set
-had a worms-n-dirt sundae
-held the most beautiful baby while she cried
-watched lucas late at night and drank orange soda
-got a sunburn and a face full of freckles
-read two books. nearly. almost.
-took pictures of the sky as we drove
-turned thirty.
so here’s the thing,
i have terrible time management skills. i have so much to do and i work away at it and i rarely ever get ahead.
where does the time go? do i slip into daydreams so often that entire hours disappear?
hrm…i’ve just had two days off and i’ve gotten nowhere.
i am constantly stuck in reverse. wiping things clean and re-doing them three four five times.
never gettign anywhere because i keep going back to the start.
ah.
life.
once upon a time i told myself that when i doubt everything, i in turn, feel nothing.
i suppose that was a big lie, in hindsight.
when i doubt everything, it’s worse than feeling nothing…i feel like nothing.
like zero. not equal to just less than.
i am not sure why i allow myself to get this way.
but i am tangled up in it right now.
i feel a little terrible.
i blame it on bad dreams and a lukewarm heart.
but lists always cheer me up.
i love:
-bizarre love triangle
-listening to julie doiron when i am happy more than when i am sad. when i am sad and she sings to me, my whole world aches and strains.
-crossing things off of my to-do list
-being nearly finished my yuk yuk’s poster
-fingernails that stay unbroken
these earrings from etsy user marmar
-checking the weather constantly
-jaws
-morning tea
-paper stars
am i just worn thin by the lack of everything we used to be
and jumping
to
conclusions?
and here’s the thing.
i wouldn’t really blame you.
i’ll be the one with the next ten years stretched on my face
pull me close with arms of steel and put me in my place
hold me close and tell me why, wear it on your sleeve
pull me close with arms of steel and put me in my place
I want to fall asleep somewhere warm and not afraid
it’s been hard to wake up in the morning lately.
i press my face into chad’s back when the alarm goes off and ask for ten more minutes…just ten more minutes. and then an hour later we are rushing out the door.
i would like to blame it on the rain and the fog, but the truth is, i live for this kind of weather. the whole world smells amazing and damp. it’s a good thing.
so what do i blame it on? our cat for needing to be petted at 4 am…she climbs into our bed and stands on top of us and stares at us until we’re awake. or maybe it’s because our room is so damn warm. always. and the heat hasn’t been turned on since last winter.
oh i don’t know. the thing is, i fumble through every day, terribly tired. i feel old and worn out. heh
i came home from my job yesterday and had planned on getting a pile of work done at home but instead i slept from 5-8:30 and then was too disoriented to do much of anything.
ah. such is life…
yesterday i found this picture of myself and it was odd to see that version of myself again.
it’s blurry and taken with my first digital camera. i look so wistful…so young and unfettered.
like perhaps everything was just at my fingertips.
truthfully, i am exhausted. i am tired tired tired of being twenty nine and so unsettled.
at any moment i feel as if i could just up and leave. run far away…write postcards to chad and megs and my sister and book. bring my mothers old polaroid camera with me and take pictures of the powerlines as i run.
better to bask in being unsettled i suppose…better than wallowing in it.
i am just all tangled up in knots it seems.
i get a little crazy and i ache for my hometown and the me i used to be.
goodness. once upon a time, i was so very full.
i was. i swear.
tea parties and kneesocks…laying in the grass on summer afternoons, watching the stars at night. loving everything.
i’d spend hours just writing…pouring out everytihng that was inside of me…and now i just bottle it up…maybe because what’s inside now is a little bitter. not so positive. not so good.
not so not so.
i am afraid if i let it out, i really will have to run. not run away from this city…just from myself.
i have become so negative and i do not like that.
it happened as soon as i cut my hair. shh. don’t laugh.
it did.
i cut my hair and my life fell apart. i question myself everyday. i question him. i worry. i cry. i cry so hard that i throw up in the bathroom sink and he comes out of our bedroom and rests his head on my back and says”shh. come to bed. come to bed” so i do and for a moment everything feels ok. but it never really is.
i am in a rut.
my hair won’t grow and my brain feels stale.
tonight i read something that a girl wrote about me…
“i went to your old website and read all your beautiful old writings (the ones you are probably embarrassed by now). i am your somewhat secret admirer. you remind me of everything i love about home, everything that separates it from here. to me, you are old st. john’s. you are a children’s story book that i want to read over and over. you are an old soul with a new spin and your life has the best soundtrack. i wish nothing but goodness and happiness and peanut butter for you.”
i read that and couldn’t see myself in her words at all.
i am not old st.john’s anymore. i am not a storybook.
i feel all used up and emptied out
very bottom of the cup.
all i want to do with my life is watch vern schillinger on the tv and pretend he is my husband and not a white supremacist.
…and maybe have some milk and chocolate chip cookies before bed.
april really is the strangest month. it is a month full of grandiose plans and hopeful statements and empty promises. it’s not cold, but it isn’t quite warm either. it is a hold-your-breath-i’m-on-the-verge-of-something kind of month.
the past six months have chewed me up and spit me out. my health has been terrible…one illness after another. but today the sun is shining and i have my fingers crossed that it was just the dull grey and gloom of winter that made me feel so bad.
today i remembered pierre. ah. wonderful little pieces of my childhood.
i am sick with nostalgia.
oh. so, i must be off. i have to pack my suitcase for a weekend roadtrip. right now is the only time i have to do it as i am working until 8:30 tonight and working 10-5 tomorrow and then we’re on the road by 5 it will be good to get out this city for a few days. it is starting to eat away at me i think.
the end of winter
tiny glass birds
jen wood’s voice
charlotte
melting snow
silkscarves bought at value village
photos of summers i used to own
chad’s bedhead
a girl named book
bugs
bones
imperfection
missing limbs
newspaper paintings
a polaroid i have of mike mouland
silhouttes
sad eyes
ocean
furrowed brows
i love you’s
geometric shapes of buildings
morning sex
kids drawings
grapes
photos of russia
fibre arts magazine
gilbert
my mother
death
good furniture design
wood grain
old
wrinkles
the smell of of this sweater
the word stillborn
french movies
april march
pregnant bellies
shadows
seagull sounds at 5 am
downtown mornings
skateboards clicking
skinned knees
the colour of the mysterious bruise near my knee
open windows
oil puddles on the pavement
i am old. i like listening to coast 101.1 fm in the mornings. phil collins, mike and the mechanics, even gowan make my mornings just a little better.
please don’t laugh.
there’s something so comforting about the sounds of music that were my childhood soundtrack. they were always playing in the background somewhere….on the stereo of a car parked outside my highschool at 3 pm…playing on my dad’s stereo at 7:30 am when i was just waking up and getting ready for school…
so here i am, plagued with yet another throat infection…it was only two weeks ago that i was on my third since november. so this is my fourth and i am not good at going to see the doctor. not good at all. i get anxious and i am reminded of all the bad things that have happened to me in hospitals/doctor’s offices.
silly. i am not five years old anymore and there is nothing to be scared of.
yet, i am still scared.
it’s not as if i’ve just been hit by a truck like in 1996. it’s not as if i am falling apart like in 2001.
it’s just that my tonsils are out of control.
i have made an appointment with my family doctor for next wednesday…the earliest time i can get in and in the meantime i suffer and listen to corey hart on the radio.
i am at work right now, perched on the edge of the tall black stool we sit on sometimes when our legs are tired of standing. perhaps i will go back home when lisa gets in. perhaps i will go to shoppers drugmart and buy things to make me sleep so that i can’t feel how much it hurts to swallow.
i wonder why sore throats make my whole body feel terrible? even my eyes hurt. i feel terrible all over.
and what a time to get sick…i have a mountain of things to do. projects to finish.
but all i want to do is crawl into bed and drink chamomile tea with honey and nap.
last night i got home late and watched parsley days on bravo. chad went to bed early and when i crawled into bed he was warm and i was cold and the whole world felt right. i pressed my icy cold feet against the backs of his calves and in minutes they were warm.
it was one of the best moments of my life.
