24 hrs, No Girlie No Cry

Tuesday Tuesday Hide Behind Your Bangs and Turn on the Heat Day,..

Listening - Rustin Man and Beth Gibbons "Romance"
Reading: The new issue of "Real Simple" (yes, I am interested in Clever Hostess Gifts!)
Eating: Leftover Brown Rice Spaghetti and sauce
Wearing: Black wrap sweater, jeans.
Thinking: Tuesday isn't sucking.

I've got my art class again tonight- yay. I feel like a wanker for looking forward to it so much, but it's so nice to just relax for two hours, turn off, drop out and be mindless. To cut and paint and think about nothing but cutting and pasting and painting. It's... nice. Really, really.. nice. I don't get home till late, I have to walk everywhere, I get to be alone. Not that I need permission to be alone. *laugh* Today is not bad.

10:44pm

Ok, so I almost made it. Until I was doing dishes and I broke down, then Jared walked in the door and I was a sobbing ridiculous mess with mascara everywhere, howling and wingeing. Thank god the man loves me. He tucked me in with a bowl of brown rice spaghetti and roasted garlic sauce and the Dane Cook dvd and made me laugh until I fell asleep. Not bad. Could be better. But not bad.

Heidegger, was such a grave digger...

Heidegger is giving me grief, but a grief that I'm glad I feel - he gives me nightmares of being present at hand, a tool, literally, of not understanding my self in any context where my self isn't something that I can put in a box discard, or give away, or use.

I think this is my problem, as discussed with both Jared and Ian, of the modeling job offered by LB. I made some money, had my ego boosted, and walked away with the knowledge that that act, of putting oneself out there solely as an object, completely disenfranchised from ones actual, internal self.. is something that I neither wanted to do again, or for a living.

I'm not ugly. But walking to school, going to the grocery store, sitting having coffee, those are actions whereby my aesthetics are not part of the equation. Wherever I go, my face, my body, my breasts, they go with me, as a necessary (but not sufficient) indication of WHO I AM, and in this world, how WHO I AM can exist. I have that choice, by what I wear, by my posture, my demeanor, to make my physical case simply that - a physical case, which is simply a degrading and disappearing collection of atoms, chemicals, acids, bases and electrical pulses. But that is the choice - to make what is a (sometimes) unfortunate necessary condition solely necessary and not.. not everything.

To be out in the open, to have my body, my face, regarded as a sufficient indicator of that WHICH I AM, that somebody would see me again and know me as that body, that necessary condition, and to conflate that which is necessary with the belief that the necessary is also the sufficient - chokes me. To think that I would be critques solely on that container that holds who I am - scares me. To borrow from Butler - eventually you start to be what others think you are, by that being suggested so many times. Whether you like it or not. Some part of me is the person who is ashamed and upset when I get "hey baby"d, some part of me is proud, some part of me has learned to use that to my advantage...

But for that, for my body, to be the sufficient condition for identifying me? To be known...by that?

Fucking philosophy. I'm actually poor by moral choice at this moment.

Ok, that wasn't so bad,

Watching - The lights turn on in the downtown office buildings as it gets darker. (I have these funny windows - one looks out on extreme affluence, one looks out on .. effluence.)
Listening: Brothers and Sisters "Blood"
Wearing: Jeans, flip flops, green cable knit sweater
Eating: Carrots and ranch dip.
Thinking: I left this ranch out for like, 3 days. It tastes... good.

Alright - Monday wasn't so bad. I got up and went to the gym, went to class, transcribed some lectures, talked to my mom, grocery shopped for healthy things, started to clean.. I'm ok. I made it through today, though perhaps heavily or mediumly medicated and a little slow, I did it without wanting to crawl under my desk and cry a whole lot. I'm.. breathing, and walking, and making plans and changing the sheets and buying good for me things... (except for that goddamn Starbucks which apparently I blew 8 of my 22 pts of Weight Watchers on. Shhheeeeiiiiit.) I'm going to be ok, today at least. There's only like 4 hours of it left.. so it should be ok. Baring disaster. And thanks to the lady at Safeway who held the dairy door open for me while I crawled into the case at on my knees and reached the last container of 1/2 fat Silk Soy milk. I had been contemplating crying for about 5 minutes about the door repeatedly hitting me in the head before you arrived. You saved my day. Literally. That means I made it through the day and only cried once. I have 4 hours left. I can do it.

Room For Cream

Watching: Somebody moving out of, or deeper into, the ghetto out my window.
Listening: Broken Social Scene Presents: Kevin Drew "Big Love"
Drinking: Water
Wearing: Workout pants, J's Vanguard zip up, flip flops
Thinking: This week has got to be better.

This week.. it's got to be better right? I mean, it can't be worse. Knock on wood.
Jared and I spent the rest of the weekend sleeping. Literally. We woke up at 2 on Sunday and went for breakfast at 4. Came home, and fell asleep until 8. Our sleep schedules are so messed up, but it feels so good to nap. *smile*
I realized that every time I do one of those ridiculous " what makes you happy" exercises.. I find that I don't ACTUALLY do any of the things that make me happy. I've had the overwhelming sensation lately of floundering, that I'm not ever moving forward, but that I'm just getting enough done to keep my head above water. Is that what life is? Constantly just fighting to have time to think about doing the things that you love to do? Not even actually doing them? I look at the things that I want to accomplish, where I wanted to be.. what I thought I'd be doing now, even a year ago. I thought that by NOW I would have time, NOW I would do the things I love and have them balanced with the things that I have to do. And I'm no closer to that than I was a year ago. Who says I'll be any closer next year?
Jared has this idea that once school is done, I'll be doing "what I really love" - as far as I can tell, this IS what I really love. I had that horrible, "Is this it?" moment last night. That a year from now, I'll just be in a different house, ten years from now I'll just have different stuff piled around me, and Jared will believe I'm doing "what I really love". It's not that I fault him.. He has a different view of what life is. He's got this stunning ability to believe that life really is about doing what makes you happy, that your choices should be based on what gives you pleasure, what makes you love, what makes you smile. And he's dating the girl that believes that on lifes list of priorities, or meaning.. that being happy is pretty far down. As a result I ended up crying my eyes out while he looked very bewildered and lovingly at me. How do I know? How do I know if this is what makes me happy? How do I know that in ten years I won't be crying in a different house, as lost as I am now, as my boyfriend pursues happiness and I look longingly after that, and him?
Perhaps I should nap more.

For My Art Class

While I was working until 5am this weekend both Friday and Saturday, I worked on this old picture. I need a stencil for my silk screening class, so I'm trying to find the right one to do a series of. I'm tired, but it turned out well. I'm also covered in black paint and x-acto knife slices.

Bruised.

I am infinately and painfully flummoxed by the incredible pain that other people have the ability to cause me. No matter the light self coaching, the heavy medication, the medium self help reading, there is something inherent in my personality that allows people to zero in on hidden, deep seeded, bruising self loathing with frightening accuracy rip me twig from tree. And it seems that this past week, intentionally (my sister) or unintentionally (my phil proff) have left these painful throbbing.. bruises.

There is that horrible feeling the morning after you are violently ill, the feeling of having thrown up that rips up your stomach and makes you feel as if you were in a prize fight. That bruise. But at the same time it's a few minutes, those minutes when you realise that you're not throwing up anymore, that you've slept for a couple hours, before you feel the pain and cold bruise of your stomach - that you feel ok. I'm waking up like that, with bruises on my brain, probed and tired and achey. I'm getting these brief, blinding minutes of "I'm alright" before I move and it rushes in.

My brain.. is tired, and dry, and overwhelmed. It feels dehydrated and scratchy like an old yellow bruise that you only really notice in the shower, when everything feels darker and more real and baptismal in its finality.

I can't seem to steel myself against the attacks, against the people, against any of it. I feel like the bruises are just piling up, an entire suitcase of them layered on me like those ridiculous static stickers. I wish I was competent enough to peel them off like old scabs, to feel lighter, to not carry them around but feel a sting of air instead of a wince of bruise.

I'm dreaming of car wrecks and lobotomies and amputations and peach trees and running away and zombies and death and obituaries. Every night. Unending nightmares that leave me as exhausted as if I had been up all night, but worse, because I'm up for 15 minutes between every dream, 5 or 6 times a night, lying away, willing my heart to slow. Getting a few minutes for every 15 that I'm awake where I think that the bruises are gone and I'm ok. And then falling asleep and dreaming them all over again.

Probed and tired.

See, a Bush.

THIS made me smile today.

Silk Screen Print

I love this one. It's a three, or part of one, but it looks like a man, by divine accident. It pleases me.

Lost

a slice of kierkegaard, served.. cold.

This, of course, requires that one continues to strive out of the aesthetic, out of the ethical, and into the religious. I believe that this is in part a plea from Kierkegaard to re-examine that which we think we know – the doubt we assume we know from Descartes, the faith we may assume from Abraham, and to start, instead of on their shoulders, at their feet. To use what they have learned as guidance instead of a step, and with fear and trembling, attempt doubt and faith and subjective knowledge ourselves. In doing so one may be able to succeed in moving from that ethical to the religious realm, to know ourselves, each other, and God, subjectively and particularly. I do not believe this is a guarantee, that by knowing each subjectively and particularly we will succeed in recognizing the Knight of Faith or witness his actions. But it stands that there must be some way in recognizing that faith, just as we believe we see it in Abraham, or else there is no Abraham, and perhaps there is no faith.

That's that then.

Rousseau states that culture is not a sign of a stable state, but rather the opposite. All art comes from social commentary, and if you're not speaking aloud then you're not fulfilling your duty as part of the sovereign and as a citizen. Therefore in the ideal state, art would be a sign of dissent. So ultimately, all states that develop strong arts and letters - are actually in a state of decay. Major decay. And Alberta has just been declared the Cultural Capital of the West.

Hmm, remotely better.

Ok, Jared just brought me a V8 and beef jerky. And I feel much better. Specifically because I'm 5 pages into my essay, it's good, and I've gotten 7 servings of fruits and veggies today. And generally.. well, because of all those things and the smelly girl next to me left.

Me, very grumpy at the library.

I fucking hate Kierkegaard. I hate the knight of faith, AND the horse he rode in on. I want to go home and sleep for the next thousand years and at least have the laundry fairies come in that time.

What I did while I was NOT writing my essay.

I Heart Monday

Wearing - Jeans, navy t-shirt, grey cardigan (haven't washed it yet) flip flops (it's 20 degrees today!)
Eating- Starbucks Mocha Frappuccino with raspberry syrup
Watching - The girl across from me in the library glare at the girl next to HER for tapping excessively loud on the keyboard with fake nails.
Listening - For my phone to vibrate to see what Jared's up to and if he wants to have dinner.
Thinking - There are NOT enough hours in the day, and TOO MANY hours in my sleep debt.

I'm just at school with a few unschedualed minutes between class and a meeting with my proff. to discuss an upcoming essay that I have NO clue what to do on.. YAY! I'm being proactive instead of just crossing my fingers and hoping for pity in my blind fumbling. Though sometimes thats more effective. *laugh* I figured out that Jared and I have had visitors for the past 3 weekends now, which is probably the reason that I've been looking forward to Mondays so much. (I look forward to Monday's anyways - they're like mini-New Years. You can start new resolutions etc. For example, this week I am going to be more organized and eat more vegetables. See? Monday is such a good start day!) Because of our stream of visitors it seems like I have so much more jammed into my week because it simply CAN'T be done on the weekend. I think it's hilarious that I can't make it though "The Big Book of Time Management" because I can't find the time. It has actually gathered dust, which is pathetic. HOWEVER, now that I have a computer again, it means I can get my calendar up and running and be a lot more effiecient. Or thats what I tell myself.
The weekend was nice however - caught up with Jared's parents, when for lunch, dinner and breakfast with them and played cards (seriously, UNO and Wizard are awesome. Despite the fact that I've apparently been playing Wizard incorrectly the entire time and STILL haven't won a game. huh.) until late at night. They're great people, and I think they actually had an opportunity to get to know me a little more this time - I think they like me. I'm still nervous around them - but what do you expect.
My dad comes to town on Tuesday and we're hoping to meet up for dinner, Jared, Dad and myself. It will be nice - and who turns down free food? Definately not me. Maybe I need to eat more veggies because that's all I can afford. *laugh*

check it.

Our First Album Cover

My Computer!

So, aside from the fact that it's felt like I've been living in Future Shop trying to get them to fix my computer.. for the past 2 months - they finally just gave me a new one today. A really nice, new, upgraded, sweet as anything super computer with built in everything that I'll ever need. And it's shiny. Which is pretty much all I really wanted.

Hmm. That's unfortunate.

I like turkey. I do NOT like turkey in reverse.

I lay down Thanksgiving night with Jared to watch some tv and succumb to the turkey coma - and promptly threw up for the next 8 hours, only to wake up to the duty phone as I finally fell asleep dreaming about working on a turkey farm with McHotty Proff. And then, finally feeling better at about 4 that afternoon, we went to see "Eastern Promises" (which was fantastic and I would recommend to anyone) - where I promptly developed a cold in the 2 hours that we were in the theatre. And now I'm sporting that oh-so-sexy "I'm 2 years old will somebody please blow my nose for me" look, wherein I have a lot of snot in my hair, a bright red nose and a frown. Please help me.

Stuffed. Yeah.

Yay Turkey Day! We got up late, said goodbye to Victor and got started on stuffing the bird. It was Jared's first Thanksgiving away from home (!) so I made/let him stuff the turkey. It was hilarious and fun. And at least he didn't try to stuff it through the neck like I did last year, one painstaking piece at a time.Unfortunately my gravy didn't really turn out - lets just say Nic and Jared were calling it "space gravy" given that you could pretty much slice it. Yeah. Hmm. I've never been great with gravy. Instead we stuffed our (admittedly 2nd rate - it looked like it had been on the bad end of a knife fight) turkey and surrounded it with brown sugar coated yams and chopped onions. It smelled amazing, and was really yummy. It was good. We all relaxed and sat together and enjoyed ourselves and were thankful, thought of our friends, close and absent, and sliced the gravy.

Stranger Still

So I've never been to a casino - ever. Not near, (except on the way to Costco), not close, definately not in. I went back to accompany Jared for a second round at the Ballroom, since a number of his music school chums that I hadn't seen in a while were going to be there. Victor, his friend from Calgary thats been staying with us since Friday likes to gamble, and I figured, what the hell, I'll go with, take 10 bucks in cash and call it a day, thats what I'm willing to spend on an evening of fun. Apparently I'm not that bad at BlackJack, because I walked out with 80$. Aces baby.

Surreal and Sinful.

What a strange Friday. Jared had another gig at the Empire Ballroom in the West End this weekend, and since I hadn't been there, I figured I would go with him. So I slapped on my best drummer-girlfriend-not-at-the-bar-for-fun-but-to-look-sweet-and-have-fun-with-my- boyfriend outfit (black leggings, royal blue thigh length dress, kitten heels) and headed out for some fun and relaxation.

We get there, and Jared can't figure out just whats going on. There's a 300lb man on stage in a candyland scene, a girl laying in a pile of money, a girl who looked like a beauty queen sitting on a stool.. So strange. We head to the back room where a number of girls are still getting ready.. A number of girls acting out the Seven Deadly Sins for Forbidden Friday. I was helping them get ready - (there's something about a showgirl in distress, and I just can't help but.. help.) - when Jared left to go find his drumming partner.

Then she pounced. The woman that was obviously ochestrating the entire gaggle of models in variously biblical outfits strides towards me and asks if I could do her a favour.. to which I responded.. "Maybe.." and she asked... if I would play Sloth. Just dress up in pj's, and laze around and yawn a lot. Of course she peppered it with various compliments on my beauty, my eyes yadda yadda. So I agree. Next thing I know Jared walks back in the room and I'm being undressed and put into pink satin. *laugh* I thought he was going to die of laughter as Pandora in there was throwing purple sparkles all over me and spraying me down with gloss. Next thing I know, I'm handed a bar tab and led out to my post.. which just happens to be.. in the middle of the main bar. Yes, I'm lying on the bar, "sleeping slothily". Sweet Jesus. That said, I had the best view of the a)girls dressed as angels swinging from the ceiling b) fire dancer c)the burlesque show and d)Jared's drum show.

I got paid, I got to drink, I got flattered, and I went home with the drummer.

Alternately, from Jared: "I leave the room for 5 minutes, and my girlfriend becomes a deadly sin. Sheesh."

The State of Nature..

My teacher, an a few others, have used the same example as to ones life in the state of nature.... (which is solitary, nasty, brutish and short and exists in the absence of politics)... If two people find a basket of apples to eat, there is no agreement or division or compromise, your best interest is simply to kill the other person and take the apples. The only thing I could think? "Really? I'd let him eat the apples, get really well fed, and then stalk and eat him." Huh. Guess I'd do okay in the state of nature.

Holy Shit.

Radiohead dropped a bomb - their new album drops on the 10th. Yeah, next wednesday. In the process of dropping that record, they also dropped something else: Their record company. Yup. It's availible solely online, here , and.. get this.. it's pay what you will. Seriously. Actually. Shiiiitt.

Cherry Pickin' the Cherry Pickin' Photos

1. Me in the back of the Subaru travelling down BC with Matt and Holz - my god it was packed to the brim.

2.Holly and I enticing the ducks at the beach across from the orchard.. Matt and I were crying we were laughing so hard giving all the ducks french voices and pretending they were the foreign legion coming to attack us while we ate salmon and drank wine.

3. A larger view of the lake - this is about the time of night we were there, and the water was still perfect to be in.

4. I caught one of those tricky french ducks, and all he did was look at me. He was soft. I liked him. I let him go because I thought his family would miss him.

5. Me in a cherry tree (as you can see) trying to make my 2.50$

6. Home sweet home.. Yup. Now picture maybe 8 more rows like this, all french people, 4 toilets and 3 showers. My god.

Anthro Smash Up

Wearing - Jeans, 50/50 t-shirt from american apparel.. (yeah, its dirty), goodwill jeans, limonade chucks, cardigan, blue scarf

Eating - Nothing. I've got a cold bottle of water.

Listening to- The really annoying girl across from me at the library talk about real estate prices. Watching - My e-mail for when my mom responds to me.

Just finished my anthro exam, which I've apparently studied way too hard for. I finished it in 20 of the allotted 60 minutes, after going over it twice. I have a sneaking suspicion that it was the first exam any of these kids have ever written, and they were going at a snails pace. *laughing* It was funny. Which is mean. But it kinda was. *laughing* I have my socio midterm on thursday, then I'm done for a bit, which makes me happy. I have to dig into the Machiavelli essay this weekend, since it's a long weekend, in the hopes I can get it over and done with in a less than painful manner. Which, of course, is impossible. *sigh* Oh well. Ok, into my socio class and then home for a little nap. Jared and I stayed up last night watching the Daily Show and doing bulletin boards at mach speed, so I'm a little sleepy. What else is new. Hhehehe..