Inigo Montoya: Who are you?
Westley: No one of importance.
Inigo Montoya: Please. I must know.
Westley: Get used to disappointment
--- The Princess Bride
Lawd have mercy, I am so glad it is Friday tomorrow.
What a week. Everyone at work has been collectively "meh". It's like we're all hungover from a winter bender.
I've been thinking a bit more about the past two days and my planned excavation exercise. I've realized that as much as I feel I've missed out on things, I've also had a lot of good experiences too, or experiences that were good in the sense that I learned a lot from them.
I started compiling my Lion's Den mix today and it was very interesting the songs that I remembered as well as the feelings and memories associated with them. I'll share more on that later, but the important thing is that I don't want to give the impression that I want to be a kid again or avoid real life, because I don't.
I don't mind having a mortgage and a fancy pants job. I like having an adult life with adult pay offs. But I suppose what I also need to confront is that I want more.
Ragdoll pointed out an interesting thing to me the other day that I hadn't thought of. It was the concept of mourning the life you didn't have. If anybody can speak to that concept she can. It made total sense to me. Maybe that's why I'm feeling stuck in my emotional mud. I haven't allowed myself to feel that it's ok to be ticked off or upset that some things didn't work out, that some things happened and others didn't, that people died or changed for the worse. Maybe I just need to indulge in some good old fashioned disappointment.
We'll see.
Thursday, March 30, 2006
Wednesday, March 29, 2006
Set Adrift on Memory Bliss
I stumbled across an alternative hip hop collection on i-Tunes today, and P.M.Dawn's Set Adrift on Memory Bliss was one of the songs listed. I immediately downloaded it [along with Pendergrass' Love T.K.O. I might add. For the young'uns, the intro riff from this was sampled by Ahmad for Back in Tha Day].
Listening to it, I am always amazed at how viscerally our memories can be connected to our senses. Music in particular, is like this for me. When I hear Set Adrift..., I'll tell you what happens.
I am 20 again, standing on Jamaica Street in Glasgow with my walkman on. Set Adrift...is playing and it's a late afternoon in high summer. I'm just outside a bakery waiting for the red doubledecker bus that will take me back to my Granny's place in Possil Park. I can smell diesel combined with the light sweet tinge of icing sugar from the bakery. I'm tempted to buy something, but I've already got a carton of toffee from Thornton's, which is my Granny's favourite. I always make sure I pick some up for her, because I think she doesn't have, nor has ever had, a lot of luxuries and I like to treat her to something special, however minor it may be. I also do this because she has always made me feel so very special. I've been spending the summer in Glasgow, with the original plan to do some theatre work with a friend of my father's, Rory, who teaches tech theatre at the Royal Scottish Academy. That gets sidetracked by a vicious two week sinus infection, which [to date] will be as sick as I ever get in my life. But I recover well enough to spend tons of time with my Granny, and to have a glorious summer in Glasgow with many visits to the Edinburgh Festival for good measure. I'm an adult, who still has the luxury of being a kid. I've got my whole life ahead of me and I've never been happier.
The happiness of this memory is tempered with what I have felt for many years, which is that I don't have my whole life ahead of me anymore and that I'm being devoured by my dreams, dreams that rage inside a body that is catching up from feeling like it didn't sleep for 10 years, that rage at the relentlessness of time, that rage period, screaming at me to do something, anything..
So I've decided another set list is in order. With the help of my CD collection and i-Tunes I'm going to compile what I refer to as the Lion's Den Mix. I'm going to listen to Set Adrift, and every other song that ever gave me that feeling on Jamaica Street, that obscure and all too fleeting moment of happiness and hope. I want to go back and search for myself and what I was all about in those moments. There is something in all this emotional churning I'm encountering right now, something that I am fearing. I need to find out what it is and deal with it.
Listening to it, I am always amazed at how viscerally our memories can be connected to our senses. Music in particular, is like this for me. When I hear Set Adrift..., I'll tell you what happens.
I am 20 again, standing on Jamaica Street in Glasgow with my walkman on. Set Adrift...is playing and it's a late afternoon in high summer. I'm just outside a bakery waiting for the red doubledecker bus that will take me back to my Granny's place in Possil Park. I can smell diesel combined with the light sweet tinge of icing sugar from the bakery. I'm tempted to buy something, but I've already got a carton of toffee from Thornton's, which is my Granny's favourite. I always make sure I pick some up for her, because I think she doesn't have, nor has ever had, a lot of luxuries and I like to treat her to something special, however minor it may be. I also do this because she has always made me feel so very special. I've been spending the summer in Glasgow, with the original plan to do some theatre work with a friend of my father's, Rory, who teaches tech theatre at the Royal Scottish Academy. That gets sidetracked by a vicious two week sinus infection, which [to date] will be as sick as I ever get in my life. But I recover well enough to spend tons of time with my Granny, and to have a glorious summer in Glasgow with many visits to the Edinburgh Festival for good measure. I'm an adult, who still has the luxury of being a kid. I've got my whole life ahead of me and I've never been happier.
The happiness of this memory is tempered with what I have felt for many years, which is that I don't have my whole life ahead of me anymore and that I'm being devoured by my dreams, dreams that rage inside a body that is catching up from feeling like it didn't sleep for 10 years, that rage at the relentlessness of time, that rage period, screaming at me to do something, anything..
So I've decided another set list is in order. With the help of my CD collection and i-Tunes I'm going to compile what I refer to as the Lion's Den Mix. I'm going to listen to Set Adrift, and every other song that ever gave me that feeling on Jamaica Street, that obscure and all too fleeting moment of happiness and hope. I want to go back and search for myself and what I was all about in those moments. There is something in all this emotional churning I'm encountering right now, something that I am fearing. I need to find out what it is and deal with it.
Tuesday, March 28, 2006
Sigh
Sooner or later,
Your legs give way, you hit the ground
Save it for later
Don't run away and let me down
Sooner or later,
You hit the deck, you get found out.
- Save It For Later, The English Beat
I've been in quite a funk the last week and I don't mean the kind with phat base lines. I turned 35 on Monday and basically had a mini-breakdown. I was bawling and crying, basically feeling like I've been spinning my wheels the last 15 years. I feel completely devoid of a sense of purpose and I don't understand why I'm here. I don't understand why accomplishing my goals and ambitions for myself has been a minor endurance test and other people seem to get what they want just for showing up.
Of course I know that logically, life is not like that and logically, that sentiment makes no sense. But that's sure how it feels some days.
I really admire people like Ragdoll who have been through so much and still keep on trucking. Now she's actively engaging in some serious self-care and is approaching her disease with a renewed sense of purpose and hope.
I'm eating chocolate almonds and am bitter that Time Team wasn't broadcast on TV Ontario this evening.
I have some theories.
One: I'm manic depressive. To wit, please see my previous entry where I was ready to take over the world. This past week, it's been all I can do to remember to use deoderant.
Two: I'm low in B Vitamins. Seriously. I ran out of this B5/B6 supplement my naturopath gave me for my adrenals and it's been downhill ever since. Thankfully she sent some more tout de suite.
Three: I'm overly sensitive. I was the kinda kid who would come home in the winter with my pockets full of garbage. I felt sorry for the garbage because I thought it was cold. Yes you read that right. I felt sorry for the garbage.
Four: I'm just too hard on myself. Old habits die hard.
Five: It's just been published in People Magazine that "shocking new evidence" has emerged in the Lady Diana crash investigation. Perhaps I have been subconsciously sensing this and my aura is in turmoil. Other strange stuff has been happening too. I was telling Ragdoll today that I'm having these weird things happen like Sunday night I was listening to this program on 96.3. They play soft classical at the end of the day. And the announcer is going over the pieces they'll be playing and the love theme from Spartacus pops in to my head and then she says "But first, the love theme from Spartacus."
I'm also seeing double numbers all the time, 11:11 that kind of thing. I looked this up and one site said it's your angels talking to you, trying to get your attention and the numbers I keep seeing doubles of all relate to hang on, things are changing, you're not alone kind of stuff.
Six: Maybe I'm flakier than a 99.
Seven: Maybe I use feeling bad generally to avoid feeling things period.
Eight: Maybe I just need a damn vacation
Your legs give way, you hit the ground
Save it for later
Don't run away and let me down
Sooner or later,
You hit the deck, you get found out.
- Save It For Later, The English Beat
I've been in quite a funk the last week and I don't mean the kind with phat base lines. I turned 35 on Monday and basically had a mini-breakdown. I was bawling and crying, basically feeling like I've been spinning my wheels the last 15 years. I feel completely devoid of a sense of purpose and I don't understand why I'm here. I don't understand why accomplishing my goals and ambitions for myself has been a minor endurance test and other people seem to get what they want just for showing up.
Of course I know that logically, life is not like that and logically, that sentiment makes no sense. But that's sure how it feels some days.
I really admire people like Ragdoll who have been through so much and still keep on trucking. Now she's actively engaging in some serious self-care and is approaching her disease with a renewed sense of purpose and hope.
I'm eating chocolate almonds and am bitter that Time Team wasn't broadcast on TV Ontario this evening.
I have some theories.
One: I'm manic depressive. To wit, please see my previous entry where I was ready to take over the world. This past week, it's been all I can do to remember to use deoderant.
Two: I'm low in B Vitamins. Seriously. I ran out of this B5/B6 supplement my naturopath gave me for my adrenals and it's been downhill ever since. Thankfully she sent some more tout de suite.
Three: I'm overly sensitive. I was the kinda kid who would come home in the winter with my pockets full of garbage. I felt sorry for the garbage because I thought it was cold. Yes you read that right. I felt sorry for the garbage.
Four: I'm just too hard on myself. Old habits die hard.
Five: It's just been published in People Magazine that "shocking new evidence" has emerged in the Lady Diana crash investigation. Perhaps I have been subconsciously sensing this and my aura is in turmoil. Other strange stuff has been happening too. I was telling Ragdoll today that I'm having these weird things happen like Sunday night I was listening to this program on 96.3. They play soft classical at the end of the day. And the announcer is going over the pieces they'll be playing and the love theme from Spartacus pops in to my head and then she says "But first, the love theme from Spartacus."
I'm also seeing double numbers all the time, 11:11 that kind of thing. I looked this up and one site said it's your angels talking to you, trying to get your attention and the numbers I keep seeing doubles of all relate to hang on, things are changing, you're not alone kind of stuff.
Six: Maybe I'm flakier than a 99.
Seven: Maybe I use feeling bad generally to avoid feeling things period.
Eight: Maybe I just need a damn vacation
Wednesday, March 22, 2006
The In Between Time
Well it's that time of the year. The waiting. In between the end and the start.
It's not gray, it's not sunny. The ground is muddy and green.
There's a hint of spring coming and a sense of winter loosening its grip.
But we're all still tired, bundled up and flinching in the least hint of a crisp breeze.
Had a couple of late nights this week. Will be back with more.
I just like to let you know. Sometimes my brain is too full, other times too empty. Sometimes, I just don't have much to say.
It's not gray, it's not sunny. The ground is muddy and green.
There's a hint of spring coming and a sense of winter loosening its grip.
But we're all still tired, bundled up and flinching in the least hint of a crisp breeze.
Had a couple of late nights this week. Will be back with more.
I just like to let you know. Sometimes my brain is too full, other times too empty. Sometimes, I just don't have much to say.
Monday, March 20, 2006
Enjoy!
http://www.skateboardingbulldog.com/
Oh. And of course the car was nothing to worry about. Just a wonky air/fuel mix that can be fixed with a new oxygen sensor and spark plugs if it gets bad.
Oh. And of course the car was nothing to worry about. Just a wonky air/fuel mix that can be fixed with a new oxygen sensor and spark plugs if it gets bad.
Sunday, March 19, 2006
Ahhhhhhhhhhhh FreakOWT!
Saturday I was wrecked after my Thursday All Dayer and took some solace when I looked out the front window and saw the tulips peeking through. Great, I thought. Spring is actually here. I never believe it until the tulips show up. They just know.
Later that night I went with my friend Georgie up to Brooklyn to see a mutual friend who had broken her ankle. We had a lovely night of good food and great convo.
Heading home, the unthinkable happened.
I refer of course, to the fact that the 'CHECK ENGINE' light on my dashboard came on.
I suppose I wouldn't be upset if we hadn't just had this happen in January. To add insult to injury I cannot find my extended warranty documentation ANYWHERE, which I need in case the part is covered. Although, we're kind of beyond caring right now given that the dealership we took the car to last time is essentially populated by morons. The guy there said it was probably best not to claim anyway since if you make claims for little things, the warranty folks get suspicious.
Riiiiiiiiiight. So if you sell me a lemon, I'm under suspicion. Got it.
We're taking the car to our regular mechanic [who have since found a new locale after their old place burnt down] and we're hoping the repair isn't too much.
And hey, if it is then we'll take it to moronville. In the meantime, I'm calling the dealership I bought the car from and having them fax me a copy pronto AND I'm asking them about this "don't make a claim" b.s. I got from the other dealership.
I'm very discombobulated. I'm exhausted. It's cloudy and my sinuses feel like they're caving in with the air pressure. And I'm just not used to not being able to find things. I'm not the most organized person in the world, but I can always find things. This documentation has apparently fallen off the face of the earth. Very weird.
I'm just in debt paranoia mode. After five years of vet bills and car bills and general finanicial crap, I immediately lose it when I'm faced with the possibility of a huge repair.
And you know what will happen? I'll be freaked out over a spark plug or something utterly stupid.
Watch this space.
Later that night I went with my friend Georgie up to Brooklyn to see a mutual friend who had broken her ankle. We had a lovely night of good food and great convo.
Heading home, the unthinkable happened.
I refer of course, to the fact that the 'CHECK ENGINE' light on my dashboard came on.
I suppose I wouldn't be upset if we hadn't just had this happen in January. To add insult to injury I cannot find my extended warranty documentation ANYWHERE, which I need in case the part is covered. Although, we're kind of beyond caring right now given that the dealership we took the car to last time is essentially populated by morons. The guy there said it was probably best not to claim anyway since if you make claims for little things, the warranty folks get suspicious.
Riiiiiiiiiight. So if you sell me a lemon, I'm under suspicion. Got it.
We're taking the car to our regular mechanic [who have since found a new locale after their old place burnt down] and we're hoping the repair isn't too much.
And hey, if it is then we'll take it to moronville. In the meantime, I'm calling the dealership I bought the car from and having them fax me a copy pronto AND I'm asking them about this "don't make a claim" b.s. I got from the other dealership.
I'm very discombobulated. I'm exhausted. It's cloudy and my sinuses feel like they're caving in with the air pressure. And I'm just not used to not being able to find things. I'm not the most organized person in the world, but I can always find things. This documentation has apparently fallen off the face of the earth. Very weird.
I'm just in debt paranoia mode. After five years of vet bills and car bills and general finanicial crap, I immediately lose it when I'm faced with the possibility of a huge repair.
And you know what will happen? I'll be freaked out over a spark plug or something utterly stupid.
Watch this space.
Thursday, March 16, 2006
Pulling an All Dayer
I'm takin' care of business
Baby can't you see?
I gotta make it for you
and I gotta make it for me.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I got work to do.
I got work to do.
I got a job baby.
- Work to Do, Average White Band
Well I once again find myself at work at 7:15 p.m. with another long evening's slogging ahead. Right now I'm on my "dinner hour" and then I'll get back at it.
It's symptomatic of a start up. Right now we have our staff, and there won't be anybody else arriving on the scene until we start bringing home the bacon, so to speak.
Despite the long hours this job sometimes entails, days like this still feel nowhere near as long as my days as a secretary, when I expended a great deal of energy battling being so bloody bored all the time and enduring managers' "isn't she cute?" vibe when I tried to do more and be more. A lot of people always seemed pleasantly surprised I was actually intelligent, and some of them got downright resentful when I seemed to know as much as they did.
I remember sitting in investment meetings, biting my tongue about offering up information that was directly relevant. It would have been unexpected and therefore inappropriate and hey, since when do secretaries read the business section of the Globe and Mail?
At any rate, I just thank God I'm away from all that. It's great to work with people that aren't assholes. It's great to make enough to cover my bills and save for a rainy day. It's great to use my brain. It's great to have my expertise and input respected. It's great not feeling like I am wasting my life force showing up for work.
So I don't mind long hours sometimes. I like succeeding against the odds and pulling it out of the fire. I like seeing how much my endurance has improved when it was previously nil. There's something special about being at the start of an enterprise, turning a vision into something concrete and impactful.
Who knows where it will all lead? I'm just glad to be along for the ride.
Baby can't you see?
I gotta make it for you
and I gotta make it for me.
Ohhhhhhhhhhh. I got work to do.
I got work to do.
I got a job baby.
- Work to Do, Average White Band
Well I once again find myself at work at 7:15 p.m. with another long evening's slogging ahead. Right now I'm on my "dinner hour" and then I'll get back at it.
It's symptomatic of a start up. Right now we have our staff, and there won't be anybody else arriving on the scene until we start bringing home the bacon, so to speak.
Despite the long hours this job sometimes entails, days like this still feel nowhere near as long as my days as a secretary, when I expended a great deal of energy battling being so bloody bored all the time and enduring managers' "isn't she cute?" vibe when I tried to do more and be more. A lot of people always seemed pleasantly surprised I was actually intelligent, and some of them got downright resentful when I seemed to know as much as they did.
I remember sitting in investment meetings, biting my tongue about offering up information that was directly relevant. It would have been unexpected and therefore inappropriate and hey, since when do secretaries read the business section of the Globe and Mail?
At any rate, I just thank God I'm away from all that. It's great to work with people that aren't assholes. It's great to make enough to cover my bills and save for a rainy day. It's great to use my brain. It's great to have my expertise and input respected. It's great not feeling like I am wasting my life force showing up for work.
So I don't mind long hours sometimes. I like succeeding against the odds and pulling it out of the fire. I like seeing how much my endurance has improved when it was previously nil. There's something special about being at the start of an enterprise, turning a vision into something concrete and impactful.
Who knows where it will all lead? I'm just glad to be along for the ride.
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