safety bear, safely bare, shapely/scheming/unaware

i'm not sure i feel safer with the army on my side. i don't feel safer smoking a pipe at my window. i don't feel safer with the hellfire tank in my driveway. i do, tho, feel safer knowing i have a watering hole beside me, some folks who will brave the harshest storms to visit and a brother who knows just where it's at. and in a closeknit hood. and i am still within five minutes from some of my peeps. and i can always take comfort in knowing there lives a mouse in my walls and that i can show my tits to the guys in green while i'm taking a shower and that i have a new place for everything and have lots of options-- endless options since all my cool dark things fell through a crack years ago-- a cold abyssmal crack that used to be half of me. not nice enough. not old enough. not bright enough. not enough. i have a bat and a ball-- and that is pretty much all.
p.s. just you and me in the end. we'll see.

isn't that awesome?

i'm afraid i might live. i'm afraid i might be ok if i run out of soymilk.i'm afraid to go out and afraid to come down off this.i'm afraid if i go to sleep i won't wake up, i mean that i will wake up.i'm afraid i have no mint chocolate left. i'm afraid because i don't want to do it right now. i'm afraid because i've never felt nothing while doing this before. i'm afraid that it's my right shoulder instead of left that's going numb this time. i'm afraid that it's my right brain oh my left brain oh my left heart oh my right heart that's failing me now. i'm afraid that i've forgotten you. i'm afraid i'm remembering. i'm afraid i don't want to see you right now. i'm afraid i don't want to help you. i'm afraid that you make me look smaller. i'm afraid that you look so distant. i'm afraid i'm too comfortable. i'm afraid this is it.

crassmass with the wanks

missmas was most often referred to as crassmas at our house this year. we went home, we celebrated, we were given a $40 budget for alcohol which we blew on american white and canadian red wines (ugh-- as per recommendation by a hick from our town) and kahlua (to be consumed with vanilla soymilk). we smoked outside. we opened gifts. we ate. we were warm. we went to a restaurant in truro that won me over by smiling and accepting the fact that i didn't want a paper placemat, and gave us menus that said "help us save the earth--water served only by request" and kicked me in the teeth by bringing me a placemt when she discovered i was in fact eating, and then serving us huge glasses of water altho we didn't request any. upon our return to the city, we were face-forced with the inevitable prospect of finishing packing our shit up to move. so instead, i went for a drive to wolfville and bro got wasted with joey. we convened at about midnight, and i attempted to match his state by geting as wacked as i could. he slipped down the stoop. we were glad we'd decided against taking the futon in the basement. while i was attempting to move something, blake said i would make the worst slave ever. i didn't know what kind of a comment that was, but shelved it beside his "you're the worst folder (of clothes) in the world" in my brain. always encouraging. we listened to dead prez and packed like mofos for hours and hours. he retired at 330, i at 630 to be up for 8. the movers (one hot, one not-- as per usual) arrived a little late, but certainly not never and moved my shit while i listened to a perfect circle and wrote. like the HB show, i fared allright until almost the end. if it weren't for rescue remedy, i would've surely been a wreck. the weather was not as the farmer's almanac predicted. no storm of the century (i guess we got a pussy version yesterday). the day was beautiful enough to not wear toques and to share the bottle of champagne our landlord got us before i went to work. next coupla days: unpacking. calls. primarily eating bread and mint chocolate and feeling surprisingly good. developing my wheat face. on crassmas eve, i saw a mouse in the living room-- twice. i was prety pissed that there was a mouse in my NEW house, for several reasons, among them not the fact that i don't like or am afraid of mice (despite my scream), but that they'll eat my food (doing only what is their nature-- i know) and that our new landlord might not be so receptive to live mousetraps. i listened to the henry rollins spoken word "'twas the night before christmas" and laughed when i heard "not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse." later, i cut the christ out of my finger while grabbing for a wooden spoon and instead lunged my finger at a curved food processor blade. it was cool because i hadn't unpacked enough to know where a bandage would be, so instead i bit on my finger for 20 minutes before i found a facecloth and an elastic. i smeared some "voodoo cream" (aka bach's rescue cream) on my inch or so long jagged cut and it began to heal almost immediately.
crassmass i spent answering the phone and unpacking and waking and baking. i highly recommend it to dealing with your relatives. ken kennedy once said "happiness is having a large, closeknit family in another city." yes on that. so this is what you missed: i was packing and unpacking.
this and the ball's party last nght.
yesterday brought chocolate oatmeal , star wars special features, 90s trivia, tea and chocolate and white wine and animal-laden desserts and a party with friends i hadn't seen in a while and some i had and symmmetry and asymmetry and conversation that took me nowhere and conversation that might take us somewhere and conversation that could take us somewhere but you won't let it and conversation that gives you a hangover and coversation that burns a hole in your head because you should've said it and conversation that burns a hole in your eye because you shouldnt've said it and words that flood your pen and paper, and words that you laugh while you say but you're not even close to laughing and people that you like and people that love and people that you don't like and people who you want to smuck in the face and people you don't know and people you'd like to know better and people you don't care about, and people who don't care about you and people who bore you and people you might as well run away from. last night brought out the usual for me as far as parties have been going lately-- i left early before i said something fucked up to someone. normally i don't have a specific fucked up statement in mind, but i know that if i tempt myself, i will. nice confidence in my actions. makes me feel real secure. so i go. i go on to skate videos, walks by myself, home to have tea or cereal or smake or shave my legs or write or jerk off or whatever. i realise this is the best place for me. and here i am, in the best place for me. i have all my comforts, and i'm not leaving but for soymilk and a cd.

if blogging were flogging, you'd be flogged right now

readers: blog, ___! fuck! do you know it's been like two weeks since you've blogged? like holy fuck. i'll hit you if you don't blog soon. blog-- i'm bored. i need to fill up my life with your gossip. blog, damn you!
me: ok, i know it's been a long fucking time, ok. i get it. it is afterall me who hasn't been blogging. i hate when i go to blogs that aren't updated much. i fucking despise it. but i try to understand the plight of the blogger. you know me and you know i enjoy blogging and that i do it pretty freakin' regularly when circumstances are normal. circumstances are not however normal right now. as i know you know-- i've moved (which requires packing), had a different christmas than everyone else, have had to unpack, and it's xmas so it's been social. and we couldn't find the computer cords for a couple of days. and altho i don't owe you(s) an explanation-- here it is anyway. here's something-- if you want to know what's going on-- call me. if you want some personal juice-- ask me-- i may tell you. maybe i'll invite you over to read a passage from my paper journal from 95 or something. normally, it's the readers who don't blog themselves who are the quickest to harass bloggers to blog. they have no idea that pressures of the blogger. they're oblivious to how much it sucks to feel you've got to blog for your readers even tho you might just want to smoke a bowl and call it a night. this time, even bloggers began to harrang me. well here it is. a blog entry. sans sucre, in preparation for my new diet.
i was busy, ok?

grip my trip 

how mush-room do i have to eff around before __mas?

with the three of us having less than two hours of sleep each, we three take the #6 to armdale/spryedge and each chew a g of BC bluecap before noon. this was my first attempt, and within minutes i felt nauseous and needed my belly rubbed. i also felt some internal pressure, but it wasn't painful. ten minutes later, the wood panelling got all wacky, i recorded some of my observations on the laptop, then proceeded to make a warm nest for myself on the corner of the couch while the boys tried to convince me to go outside with them. not a chance. i closed my eyes and saw some amazing images-- lots of stuff that reminded me of lots of weed and shroom-inspired art i've seen-- especially those designed with computers. lots of stretching and expanding, flowing and bright glitter. haha. around the time when they mention they are definitely going outside, the images render themselves frightening and dark. i begin to weep lightly, and try to remind myself that i'm fond of dark images-- so what the fuck? after prodding me and touching me and making sure i was ok, they went outside to chill for a bit, and i decide to get up and record some shit on the laptop. i decide to let go of what needed to be released, and cried out of concern for othersand pecked out (with fair difficulty) my dark sightings. decay and fright-- but it was beautiful. lots of golds and dark crimsons and everchanging but definite darkness. as i wept at the laptop, his roomate (who i've never met) returns home and i try to stay composed as i explain to him who i was, shake his hand with mine wet from tears, and tell him the whereabouts and whyabouts of his roomate. he fled. i retreated again to the couch and covered myself with the grey blanket, resuming the terror/delight. i didn't want to open my eyes. i began to feel kind of alone, but was aware why i was feeling it, and in control enough to not let it engulf me. they came back inside, wiped my tears and held me and teilo needed to leave and said i didn't need to go. i could scarcely move, so i stayed. we popped in alice in wonderland, the cartoon which is what i needed. television stopped my trip. i wasn't terribly engrossed in the story, but i watched with great interest-- the interest of keeping me grounded and present. once i finally opened my eyes to watch the movie, i couldn't imagine closing them again. we chatted throughout the movie (after hearing that altho it was really nice to hear me chat that he really liked movies) which was ok. i stayed prostrate and when the film was over, i wanted the tv marathon to continue. the cosby show. beyonce and missy elliott videos. western movies. oprah. whatever. i needed to be entertained. something familiar-- even if it was something i normally avoid. at some point i sat up, smiled, ate two veggie dogs and some garlic soynuts, packed our bags and fled into the blueskied day. nice. i probably should've gone out earlier, but i just couldn't. we walked home and watched the ducks and clouds and i watched him skate and it wasd refreshing, altho fresh i was not. in retrospect, not a bad trip, especially since i was well-taken care of and comfortable. i have a very specific and exclusive plan for my potential next one. for supper i was craving sushi, so after listening to the radio show, i went alone to andy's for vegetarian combo a and wrote while i awaited the sushi for my soul-vag. i read exclaim while i ate. came home, packed, made cookies and ate them with soymilk. such was my day. such is my night. i should probably get some sleep. don't fret-- in january i will be hardcore. i feel pretty awesome right now. shit. i have to get out of here and get ready to celebrate jeebus's something or other. eff.

NO MORE HORSESHIT

... so now you know our new year's resolution (to be applied to all areas).

so, i didn't fall off the face of the earth. it's december. i've been busy.

gunts n' roses (awesome. rock and live topless babes)

staff party (bottomless red wine, spicy peas and talking cellphone ads in the bathroom)

heather's party: (ok, spatted about milk prices with some mother, was too wasted, so decided to leave, early)

skate video: a fun departure from what i normally due. you should try it.

hangin' out: when i do, it's fun

HOLY FUCK

so it's unbelivebable what you can get away with in your own occupied house that you can't get away with without someone in a different timezone discovering.

today i almost had about fifteen aneurysms.

too many coincidences for comfort.

i have to pack like a moterfucker, do christmas shit (blast you, jeebus), go home, deal with shit, move, unpack, weep, drink soynog and hope for visits.

it's been suggested that i go to bed and sleep rather than, well, not going to bed and not sleeping. thank you(s) for your concern. i think (hope) i just might.

R.I.P., dimebag. see you at the cemetary gates. 

an open letter to the as-yet unnamed murderer of dimebag darrell

dear heartless killer,

why did you have to kill dimebag darrell? i mean seriously. ok, so i know that pantera was a great fucking band and it does indeed suck that they broke up. sure. it also sucks that damageplan doesn't even come close to reaching pantera's awesomeness. agreed again. BUT, if pantera wanted to break up, and damageplan decided to form-- you have to respect that. you don't have to buy their albums or go to their shows. and you DON'T have to shoot and kill dimebag darrell and three fans. this is going too fucking far.

christ, guy. fuck. i don't even know what to say! fuck, guy. if pantera was ever to reunite, you've certainly fucked that chance to hell. good going. good going ruining my breakfast and the breakfast of countless others and fucking up everyone at the show and devestating dimebag's mother and his brother vinnie paul who was ON STAGE WITH HIM YOU COCKSUCKER and everyone else who loved him.

i'm not angry just because dimebag's a celebrity, it's just a good public example of a serious tragic fuckup. fuck. ok, for one-- you're probably mentally ill-- and while that's not an excuse, it's an explanation. for your sake i will blame this at least partially on the system.

it's too bad that we need metal detectors in our nightclubs. when i was first scanned at the marquee after the incident there, it made me feel unsafe (that the prospect of weapons present was there), yet at the same time of course, safer.

the only possible benefit to this is for my late friend tommy. if there's a heaven or some sort of metal afterlife cafe, hopefully dimebag and tommy can jam or even share some hash or beer. if motherfuckers and talented guitarists share the same afterlife, dimebag will kick your ass when he sees you (or be a gentleman and not bother-- either way: you'll get yours). i'm also glad that i got to see damageplan in june, and that nick got to walk right past dimebag and vinnie.

pantera was there when i first got drunk off cold duck in grade 9. pantera's been there ever since. pantera will still be here for me because i have the albums and i'm not fucked up enough to find dimebag and shoot him. i mean come on, it's not like pantera was still improving. far beyond driven was their last best album. it was time for them to disband and pursue other interests. i wish you could've understood that. i wish that you'd been more understood in your life, and perhaps none of this would've occurred.

in metal i trust,

beany

*****editor's note: if you read this blog earlier today, you may've noticed that i was addressing the murderer as if he was still alive. the shock muddled me a bit this morning. i totally knew that the police officer shot him. anyway, i basically just amended those parts. the rest of the letter remains the same.

there's something wrong with my face-- but i can't quite put my finger on it?! 

there's something wrong with my face

... but i don't know what.

i also don't know what was wrong with our whole household not to get up before 11am this morn. so after 11, blake and i chilled with the golden girls and some green film for a couple of hours before i spent many more rummaging thru my stuff, looking for objects once loved or at least cared for slightly that i can now toss in piles to be given away, recycled or otherwise turfed. found a bunch of pounds of stuff that i can do that with, roused lots of dust-- hence me not knowing what's wrong with my face: a cold or allergies. so i natural-medicated myself with both types of remedies, but mostly those for a cold: aller-7, colloidal silver, vitamin c, astragalus, yin chiao, zinc, corzalyia, onion soup and a hot toddy. oh yeah, hot toddy-- that's what i'm talkin' about. and i got a free movie for being a cute girl in a totally non-sexual way-- i got a free movie from a nice gay boy. it would've been even cooler if it were my free movie, not g's. blar.

well i do!  

good vomit or bad vomit? vomit nonetheless.

sometimes when so much good and bad shit occurs simultaneously that it makes me wanna vomit. sometimes this vomit is good, sometimes bad. i am over and underwhelmed at once. times like this are when just living wins out over any sort of productivity. plans are dashed and foiled, and i laugh until i realize what i may have missed. like FUCK, that job posting that paid $55 thou/year. oh yeah, and it was a perfect job for me. qualified? not by their needlessly rigid standards, but i know i could do the job. eff and fuck. eff and fuck. nobody would take my cool clothes when i went to sell them downtown. why? because they're not in season. christ fashion's hard. grey sweatsuit revolution here i come. so here i am listening to cannibal corpse and eating granola just like last night when i was about to blog and blogger was just simply too busy to be my enabler. so here, now blah. watched whale rider tonight which was a wicked good time. it's snaining or some shit, what a crappy walk home. yikes! i like how my finger always seems infected but never is. i like how my trip downtown was nearly a waste of time. i made some fantastic pasta and blueberry crisp tonight. and we ate dates. bought blake golden girls season one and part of my mother's present. had a shower. did most of the dishes. almost froze and baked in my house within minutes of each other. summer plan ideas are: learning french with mg(w?)stp, hitchhiking across the country with nrm, being productive in a variety of ways, thinking of something other than that, working at GO still. i dunno. fuck, i've had to deal with sears about my stereo like umpteen fuckillion times in the last three weeks about my stereo being repaired. to all sears ears: listen asswanks-- here's the deal ---> my stereo's already been fixed. it's under warranty under my father's name. even tho you don't know it, my stereo's somewhere at the halifax shopping centre location. send it to game world on quinpool (NOT the halifax retail store whatever the christ that is, not unit 1616, not baker's lake or the halifax shopping centre or its annex) NO QUESTIONS ASKED and PRONTO. and if you connect me to regina or hamilton one more time i'll cut your nipples off with a plastic fork and then push you into a kiddie pool of balsamic vinegar. eat my care, sears.

have yourself a rutabaga, give yourself a break! 

turnip or die

i am fucked today-- my bowels are fucked. i'm trying to be better to them, altho i'm not sure what i did to make them so edgy/weak/active/bad. i cried because my turnip (actually rutabaga) was too white and all i wanted was turnip (actually rutabaga, but i hate calling them that!) it was decidedly a weak moment. so instead i steamed some carrots, potatoes and onion for supper and ate them with pesto and garlic. fucking amazing. not so long after, i took a bath which was one of the most fulfilling baths i've ever had. usually i get fidgetty and pissy and red and awful and need to get out. as i submerged my acidic, swollen body into the water infused with epsom salts and sprigs of jasmine, i sighed big and thanked the gods and goddesses that i could experience something so phenomenal when others don't even have clean water to drink. i sighed and moaned and got some pretty good effects on my voice with my ears below water. i almost dropped off to sleep. my heart rate slowed to a concerning pace. i curled up to the side of the old tub as if i were in bed. toss. turn. fuck-- i'm in water! i gathered the jasmine sprigs and put them in a pile on the edge of the tub so g doesn't yell at me. i wrapped up tightly post-bath, so i could sweat out the toxins let loose by the salt. as i sat on the bed and wrote with the heat on, my thighs felt as though they were on fire, my heartrate was still crawling and i felt nausea creep thru me briefly. i felt as though i'd just smoked a bowl and gotten myself off-- but i'd done neither-- just a bath. of course i have the house to myself, as blake is with keefeco and g is @ school as always. he is always there always always until 4 or more in the a.m. we are meshing better now, altho he gave me the dirtiest look this morning as i emerged three minutes late from the bathroom. "fuck, dude, such a dirty look." "i'm not dirty," he shot back. so asleep still. red wide eyes and bushy hair. perhaps you know the egg i mean. it's saturday night and the second weekend i've intentionally done nothing social. and it's so awesome. i'm preparing for the potential onlslaught of holiday socializing. j'espere j'espere j'espere all goes smoothly.

fade to nope

coming down off last night's high, i got off right before work (thanks) then took some spaz pills and all was well for as long as i needed to be. apres le travail, we hung inside because otherwise we'd've been chilly on the out, then figured i might as well go over: tea/homegrown/ kamut bread/whisky/vomitting emotionally/the doors/insence/looking thu duds and giving me some/you not being the swiss/you telling me to chill out and stop burning your bed and stumbling (i'm lost without you) all over the place and that i'm fading and you're shocked and that i need to buy new clothes and that i was so so so whatev for getting that price tag off--that and listening to fashion talk for hours and oh my gawd i can't believe you do that it's something that yeah i do it but i hope my friends don't oh wait it's not that bad oh oh oh he needs a raise and a blowjob and a shave and biore strips-- we could drag him into a bathtub and i'd even rub honey on his feet and i must pass out and also steam a turnip and onions (not necessarily in that order).

one of life's proudest moments: brother gives the finger to the leader of the free world

booyakasha!

we were up early and rarin' to go to be part of the largest protest the city's seen. among the thousands present, i managed to see most everyone i expected to see there. it was pretty rad, and inevitably a bit disorganized when put into practise. communication is pretty tough when there are three times as many people as there are in my hometown. fuck! one of the organizers got our hopes up by letting us know that there were more protesters in halifax than in ottawa yesterday which was frankly a load of shit, but whatev. we did boast large numbers fer sure. it was so adorable how the kids in the window of the discovery centre were waving and giving us peace signs. it was beautiful that there were families there. at the rally, a nova scotia cattle farmer said that he was losing a geezis ton of money, but that supporting bush is too high of a price to pay for his small personal losses (i was pretty broken up at this). take that you twerpass backward alberta beef farmers! the weather was the best i've seen for almost any protest that i've been involved with. it seems they've all been invariably pissy with rain, slushy with snow, fucknuts cold or christly hot. today's weather was the porridge that goldilocks would've chosen if she were picking protest weather. or course i didn't get to see ol' george, altho i didn't expect it either. i ate sushi and dio mio with kelsey which was awesome. so later when blake wakes up he's like, "so, i didn't tell you, eh?" and i was all like, "whut?" and he was all like "so i saw george bush today." and i was like, "shit, dude-- you were with me the whole time, how the fuck did..." and apparently "he drove by with this motorcade which had like one of everything -- like even an ambulance-- no, not an important american ambulance-- one of ours-- yup, someone in the hrm will probably die today because george bush needed an ambulance reserved just in case-- so i saw him and he was waving and i waved back, but of course not with all five fingers and there were some high school kids and they were like i can't believe he's waving, i mean come on-- what the fuck-- and it was so great." so then i was like where the hell was this? and apparenly it was robie street, and there were peeps around representin' with the signs still, which was killer.

then later i fucked around here, reading, trying to stay awake, listening to scandanavian symphonic metal-- pretty, melancholy and luckily without any rotten memories attached (so far) and then later he who is determined to steal my toque came over and we watched trees lounge which is an awesome steve buschemi flick, pretty fucked and funny and worth a videe. a good time. we got fucking soaked on quinpool rd (ok, so we were jumping in lake-puddles) and i had to give him a bunch of clothes because the poor fellow biked here in the pissing rain. i gave him a cool black hoodie that was given to me because i was wet because i fell in a lake (ok, trevor fucking sank the canoe-- remember when?).

i want more rice.

quite. 

clutter clearing and butter fearing

blogging has indeed fallen by the wayside, giving me insight into what would almost inevitably occur if i let myself miss just one day with my paper journal. initially, i didn't feel i could miss a day here-- thinking i owed something to my faithful readers. then i was all like: fuck that! my most faithful readers almost all have blogs who also don't post every day. and so i let shit slip, and here i am. not much is terribly new. i've been laying pretty low, not being terribly social-- not in any sort of an intense way, anyway. i haven't gone to see a show in a couple of weeks-- which i'm missing. looking forward a few in the coming weeks, most notably gunts n' roses on december 9 at reflections, b.a. johnston with jack macdonald at the khyber on december 10th and the heavy blinkers at stage 9 on december 18. will i get to all these shows? perhaps it's unlikely-- but they'll keep my heart ticking until then, despite the dreadful holiday looming over me. luckily, i've been able to miss most of the holiday onslaught because of the choices i've made so far. my workplace decorates quite minimally and tastefully for the holidays, i've seen but a few houses lit up so far, intentionally missed the parade of lights and haven't been to a mall. the shopper's drugmart christmas shit has been up for a long time now, as have the riduculous piles of toys and other missmas nonsense at the grocery store. this is perhaps the first year where i genuinely don't care whether christmas happens or not. i mean, my family (prompted by brutha and i) has "cancelled" christmas before-- which i have to admit was a pisspoor attempt at cancelling it: we still had a tree, a nice dinner and gifts-- but mostly it was donations to charity. it was fun, but wasn't fulfilling enough for everyone to do it again. this year i've solely requested cash from my parents, from which with i can buy a bunch of cds and pants or shoes and books and whatnot. we'll see if they can go thru with my request. i fucking doubt it. i hate gifts that i won't like or use. at least i can say that i've asked to not have them. brutha love and i are going home for a few days just prior to the blessed holiday: lots of smake and late nights with the golden girls will get us through. i'm sure i will be kind of sad when christmas actually arrives and it's a non-event. i can just picture me sitting around the house smoking a bowl with a glass of spiked soynog, listening to tool and eating granola with soymilk, banana and carob chips along with some veggie bacon and ketchup, and perhaps crying-- just for the fuck of it. this actually wouldn't be the worst event. i'm alone-- greg's with his torments (i mean parents) and blake's doing a crossword puzzle at the front desk or something-- bored off his cock. then maybe i'll go to sleep. this makes christmas sound ideal. hopefully by then we'll have found a place to live. our progress has been minimal, as nobody's been returning our calls. tomorrow i'll take a trot around our preferred neighbourhoods looking for a gem. that and dig thru my stuff and clear a lot of stuff away. i read some of my clear your clutter with feng shui book, put on the least serious, yet most positive music i could find that has no negative or even any real emotional baggage at all. oh danko, how i do love thee! the outcome? i weeded 125 books from my collection. it was difficult to do, but once i applied the feng shui guidelines, it was a cinch and i feel good about my decision. some of you are probably thinking-- how could she get rid of books? i mean they're books-- precious books! yeah, well, i thought the same thing, but what's the point of having a bunch of anything around it they don't mean enough to you to have already read them, and realistically you won't-- probably ever? if i want these books in the future, i'll look them up. for now, i still have many to keep me busy,and i'm stoked about all of them. you're welcome to come over and have a rummage thru them if you like. other than that, shit all is new in a physical sense. am about to make a batch of granola bars, perhaps my final test batch before i go big and make a batch to sell at the store. i just need a name and logo. any ideas? i'm so tired lately, perhaps because i've been getting more sleep. this mayn't make sense to you, nor does it really with me-- but i guess it's throwing my body for a bit of a loop. i've been lethargic and pissy. i want to punch almost everybody-- including myself (is there a juijitsu move that i could use to kick the shit out of myself?) at a certain point in the night. i'm almost there. luckily there's nobody home to taste my wrath. i've been having some mild epiphanies-- which normally do come when i do some clutter clearing. my bowels have also been doing pretty well functionwise, altho my body's been a little (understatement) bloaty. i know mostly how to remedy this, but i want to pretend i don't. sugar: i still hate you. i am, tho, out of bread (i'm out of chips i'm out of chips i'm out of chips-- and i'm out of chips!), so that also helps. tomorrow i hope to use as my productive day out of my three days off. wednesday is devoted to the bush demonstration, about which i am pumped. it's been a while since i've been involved in a good protest. you should go.

at the eye of the tornado-- blow me away!

christly hell- what the h is going on? i got an email from a friend today whose boyfriend has joined a cult in nelson, b.c. they were one of those couples who everyone coos at and aspires to be. they are saccarine, but not annoying. totally in love, with no forseeable end. none until he joined a cult, anyway. what the fuck is up? nothing that happens to me could compare to this and a sex change operation-- so how's about i don't try very hard?

i watched the end of predator today, the beginning of which i watched several months ago. not a bad movie. the only thing more frightening than an alien is a transparent alien! i stopped eating olives and instead i ate oatmeal, raw soydogs dipped in veganaise, kamut bread with garlic and avocado, and soymilk with flaxmeal and carob powder among other things. i got high as bejeezus and perhaps spooked my brother's coworkers then went for a walk in the quasi-hurricane, which was so fantastic. it was unreal. didn't get anything done that i wanted to do, got lots done that i didn't necessarily want to do. how's that for a crap night?

if it's good enough for jeebus!!! i did a radio show yesterday, and went on a few milkrants. this billboard isn't new, in fact, i think this was the one that was up in fairview or spryfield a while back.  

ohmmmmmmmmmmmmmm olives! oh! oh! oh! ohhhhhhh!!!!!! 

i haven't even eaten lunch yet!

ever have one of those days where you wanna sit home, eat kalamata olives and masturbate? hello yesterday. i still only long for olives or anything briny today. that, and german industrial (soylent green, something german!!) so, as a vegan nutritionist, i may have bitten off more than i can chew. i've agreed to do a one-on-one teaching session with an overweight mcdonald's employee who eats nothing but low-quality fried foods. what the fuck was i thinking? i felt awkward even stepping in that joint to give her the evalutation forms. i've been boycotting that place for a while, which means little in many ways, as i've boycotted many companies-- including freeman's (remember that two week period?) so i ran into a friend today who said that next time i saw her, she might have a beard. she wants to get her boobs cut off before defending her thesis, because she wants to get the process started, but is worried what her professors will say. she's changing her name, getting hormones, but has an ethical dilemna because she's vegan. so yeah, i ran into a friend on the road and she said she's a man. and even tho i was a little high, i handled it pretty well because i'd heard about it from somone else yesterday and she was delighted at my suport. fuck. it's not even noon. what will the day bring? i'm going downtown. perhaps spring garden road won't even be there. whatever, i'm going to barrington.

coherent-o-rama

lately i haven't been the best vegan-- succumbing to the mean temptation of the supposed vegan gingerbread man (thanks, dilemn) and a few corners of my favourite shoes ( i am going straight across the river styx for this one). so last night, before purchasing an eyeliner, i checked a site to see which mainstream cosemetic companies don't torture animals, and i only found the one that i knew: revlon. so fine. i'm gonna buy a revlon eyeliner. it certainly limits my choices-- and i really wanted a big fat smudgy one, but i finally decided that i should be more stuck about sticking to my guns. so then when i found the revlon eyeliner, i noticed it was in a blister pack with a card. fuck! seriously! i choose a company who doesn't pour chemicals into the faces of rabbits, and i still get a company who doesn't realize that a an eyeliner doesn't need a package. i mean seriously-- it's an eye pencil. have you ever seen pencil in a blitser pack? one single pencil? i mean it's probably happened, but let it be known that that company is also a giant prick. it's like the leather vs pleather debate-- it's cool to be ethical and all, but which one's better for ye ole earth? fawk! seriously!
so at home, i ripped open the eyeliner and tried to do something gothy with my eyes for the party, and this markerlike eyeliner was, altho purported to mbe "easy to control": or somet shit, made me draw asshole lines all over my face. and then when i made a mistake-- the fucking shit wouldn't come off my lower lid. i had the scrub the cack out of my face to remove the liner which was touted as being above all others for its ability to apply a fine line and stay smudge free and strong for up to 16 hours. 16 hours? what the fuck?
i arrived at dilemn's at say 915 or something and began drinking whisky (which you must remember is "the angry man's drink"). i drank it fast, whisky and mineral water-- now known to dilemn and i as the fizzy depths or deep fizzy for short. there were a ton of people there i didn't know, lots of boys, most of whom weren't mildly interesting, but there were a few gems to be sure. i met a cool guy from iran, whose name i don't remember. but at least i 'd've remembered my helmet if i were biking home!) as i made a call and got someone pissy with me, the angry part of the angry man's drink became active and i became pissy and fatiged and dizzy and fizzy and fuzzy and right rarin;' to leave, and after a pleasant diversion on the porch, i was escorted home, where i sent a few incoherent emails about which i then laughed over breakfast :

i can hardly touch the keys. i came home on time and with any luck i'll be in bed by two. i am tanked and trying to check my mistakes. i ____ you. tonight i saw ___and ___and ___ and ___and ___ and your beloved beloved ____ yup, seems like grade 8, but i am willintg to look past. i wish i didn't feel like throwinng up (i won't), but i may try and call and say hi. ...(1:18am) best wishes for your _____if i don't say hi.

yo, perhaps i am long since past right now, but it's 1:26 am, i am tanked and wishing i were ____ with ___, but ____ or whoever was upset because i called late 1215 max!!, anyway i must go to sleep and i will talk to you with any luck tomorrow. ____ or something like it,_____
ps you are ______, ___ pps sorry i am not a mailorder bride. then i might be hotter. being caucasian sucks.

why the FUCK don't you______ tomorrow? why the FUCk don't i have any rice left? i guess i can answer why i ___ early. i thought it was cool when you said promise not to let this be ____________. dude, my wishes exactly. i will talk to you soon. why the FUCK aren't you_______ tomorrow? what gives? anyway, will chat later. i am surprised i can type. so tired. let'd go to north________ or whatever you said..........

five things

1) i slept in until 12:15 today (my shift began at 12) and work doesn't even care.

2) life's hard.

3) i'm content nonetheless. thanks, litebook!

4) i made so many dishes tonight: roasted sweet potato and parsnip, brown rice and amaranth, steamed purple cabbage, and my beloved tuno (a fishy meat analogue). lunch tomorrow will be so fucking good.

5) i gave a friend a condom that i had in my bag. i want a full report tomorrow, dude.

a place to call my hole

kids in the hall (second season released on dvd today) was my medicine tonight-- that and friends hangin'. i served pumpkin soup to nathan and michael, both of whom seemed to be inuit. em and chris were also there, and everyone left at different times. a good time assumed to be had by all. chris rearranged my room (aka the livingroom) tonight and i "helped" by reading passages of her menstrual rhythm, consequently teaching him a little more about the reproductive habits of rats, chickens and rats. did you know you can make a rabbit ovulate just by sticking a glass tube into her? so now i have a little den with a bedside table on which lies a water bottle, a lamp, my journal and pen, and my lenore doll. and there's a screen to cordon off the room a little. it's a cool little setup, altho it feels a bit like a tent i'd make with sheets between two chairs on my kitchen floor as a kid. but it's mine, and i like it. a place to go to, well.. mope, write and sleep.

i hope your face freezes that way! 

maybe my face will freeze that way

sometimes i'm truly afraid that my face will "freeze that way." if you know me, you know the way i mean. mom used to use this one on me a lot, attempting to cheer me up. in some ways i think it would be easier if my face only looked one way: fucking pissed, or even just really sad or grim. then maybe nobody would talk to me and in theory i would get what i want (altho i practise, i would be miserable and miss some of you [probably most of you who are reading] desperately). anyway, i do notice a lot that my face is in pissed mode and that a lot of old ladies have frown lines and i feel that maybe someday i will too have these strange melancholy lines carved deep into my face. a friend said that i had too good a sense of humour for this to happen. perhaps she's right-- damn. in many ways it would be cool to be able to just point to my permafrown when somebody asks me how i'm doing and say "how does it LOOK like i'm doing?!"

& lately i've been using sleep as coping mechanism for having to endure being awake. first i write (sur le papier, ne pas ici)-- vomit as many words as possible. then often i attempt reading (currently canadian vegetarian horror drama), but get so distracted by my own life with my head so far up my own ass. often this is when i realize i've been staring at the wall for 15 minutes and am breathing really heavily and can no longer do anything requiring any concentration-- even watching a movie. so i have two options- i can do one or more of the following: smoke a bowl, drink some whisky, brew myself some peppermint tea, scream and rant and try to find someone to spill to-- usually my brother-- or i could take some rescue remedy and fall asleep. this is the popular method that i use even within minutes of waking up somedays. even on my days off, okay especially then. sometimes i don't make it out of the house because i don't want to bother facing anyone. don't fret, tho, it's not like desperate times or anything-- sometimes i just don't feel like dealing. period. and so i lay on my couch staring at the walls for hours, getting up and then going back to sleep. playing :wumpscut:, danko jones, dinosaur jr, him, tool, whatever works as a distraction/pacifier/mood justifier/inspirationforwriting/writhing. whatever. and it's cool and i even enjoy it-- probably 80% of the time. i sometimes miss the comfort in being sad, or blah, or without. until i come to and realize that i'm still me and i don't want to go outside because I HATE IT. and not because it's winter, but because it's outside, and not as comfortable as slippers, sweaters, soymilk and, well, metal.

pumpkins of mass destruction (two stories)

me: i want six pumpkins from the county-- blake, bring me back six pumpkins from the county.
blake: uh, ok.
(travel by bus)
blake: ma, bean wants six pumpkins.
ma: oh you want a pumpkin do you blake?
blake: no, ma-- bean wants six pumpkins.
ma: oh , here's two for you-- give one to your sister.
blake: i don't want the damn pumpkins, they're for bean, and she wants six. make with the fucking pumpkins!
ma: hehenope.
(travel back by bus)
blake: here're some pumpkins for you from the county.
bean: fuck-- i wanted six.

so i bought a hardcore peeler (she was expensive, but the bitch was worth it) and went to town on her. it took me 40 minutes to rip all her skin off which was surprising-- she looked desperately easy. her flesh was so beautiful, with lots of rosy-peach undertones. as my solid instrument seared through her supple, young rural skin, i begin to notice tiny beads of dewy nectar seep through her pores as she rocked below me. i put a drop to my lips and quivered at the sweet delicate flavour of her lifeblood. as i scraped the final bits of skin from her corpse, i paused to view her ravaged body as a whole before i plunged my hand deep inside her and tore her apart. with a grin, i explored her inner reaches until i the point of no return. her aromatic flesh, so sinewy and alive drove me to spew seed all over the linoleum. i gathered the seed, and stored it for future rituals. from my hands i licked the flesh and lifeblood and reviewed the scene of destruction in a state of supreme fulfillment, sticky clothing and a promise to remember this forvever.

gimme something to believe in... 

ruining your supper with religion

my dad once told me that there are three things you don't talk about at the supper (yes, i'm from nova scotia where apparently we don't even have dinner) table:

1) politics

2) sex

3) religion

i have no idea where he got that, i think he was just trying to prepare me for the real world where some people's tables found shit like that offensive. and at our table we broke that rule nightly. anyway, if this blog were a table, i'd've been sent to my room long ago without any supper and a big red slapmark across my face. i'm surprised blogger hasn't booted my ass off, altho i don't remember signing any agreement saying i wouldn't be offensive.

so, as i've hardly touched on tableblasphem numero trois, i will introduce you to a sweet device that will choose a religion for you if you're so kind as to answer a bunch of questions about your beliefs, and so inclined to have one at all. even if, like me, you're not in the market for a religion, it's still fun to see what you'd be best suited for. now, as someone who doesn't have a strong set of beliefs, some of these questions had my little head wheels spinning rapidly and me ending up choosing some responses and not being too sure. this is cool because you can set a priority for each answer. anyway, i've done this quiz three times now, and below are my results (screw you catholicism! get away! i can't believe it even rated!):

1.
Neo-Pagan (100%)
2.
Unitarian Universalism (94%)
3.
New Age (87%)
4.
Liberal Quakers (81%)
5.
Mahayana Buddhism (80%)
6.
Theravada Buddhism (79%)
7.
Jainism (73%)
8.
Secular Humanism (72%)
9.
Sikhism (67%)
10.
Reform Judaism (65%)
11.
Taoism (62%)
12.
Mainline to Liberal Christian Protestants (59%)
13.
Hinduism (55%)
14.
New Thought (52%)
15.
Scientology (51%)
16.
Bahá'í Faith (51%)
17.
Nontheist (43%)
18.
Orthodox Quaker (41%)
19.
Orthodox Judaism (39%)
20.
Christian Science (Church of Christ, Scientist) (33%)
21.
Islam (31%)
22.
Mainline to Conservative Christian/Protestant (15%)
23.
Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-Day Saints (Mormons) (15%)
24.
Seventh Day Adventist (15%)
25.
Jehovah's Witness (10%)
26.
Eastern Orthodox (8%)
27.
Roman Catholic (8%)

so now you can find out what your best-suited religion is by taking the quiz yourself. also check out the rest of the site, because it's thorough and awesome. please comment on my blog with the results of your quiz! i'm interested. let's ruin everyone's supper table conversations!

frogs and raisins and fucking machines

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who wants to be a multimillionaire?

early yesterday morning, greg advised me to either rouse myself from my livingroom sleep or join him and tets on a morning trip to ye ole liverpool, chauffered by murray fry. i was tired as fuck because i, as usual, hadn't gone to bed til say four a.m. but since he promised we'd be back in decent time, i said what the hey and quickly readied myself for the road. when murray arrived, we schooled him a bit on our friend tetsushi, and he also asked his share of questions. initially, he was calling tetushi "sushi" and so we corrected him before tets arrived. but no. it was "sushi" all day, and the usual breen for me (yes, he's known me for 4.5 years and still doesn't know my name).

here's an example of a conversation with murray:

"sushi do you want an apple?"

"no thank you."

"breen do you want an apple?"

"no thanks, murray."

"sushi, do you want an apple?"

"no, thanks."

"breen, do you want an apple?"

"no thanks."

"sushi, breen, how about some carrot sticks?"

"no thanks"

"no thanks, i think i had enough carrots with my meal."

"sushi, want some carrot sticks?"

"no thank you."

"breen, some carrot sticks? can't take 'em back to pat now. greg, you'll have to eat them all."

"no."

greg eats said carrot sticks.

murray gnaws on a bunch of apples.

liverpool was as usual in my experience: looking more and more desolate/desperate, rainy and charming. tets was really into it, and thought that he might like to live at the cricket's harp. i agreed. he said "wow, this is nova scotia." we laughed at how cheap some of the beautiful houses were, and wished we had a good reason to move there. we even saw stutie (even fuckin' stutie knows that!) at the superstore, but no craig (should i have?)-- or even any other allstars. after the superstore, tets decided that he'd be a celebrity in liverpool, as the japanese contingent is nonexixtent. basically, we ventured to the south shore so greg could take some photos of his thesis site. the security guard at stenpro was the utmost in kind and helpful. he gave us an oral tour of the site, and told us just how awful it was that the economy in the town is taking a nosedive, etc. he looked pretty upset about it, understandably. for lunch we went to lane's and met mike and heather. i ate 8 carrot coins, 3 pieces of broccoli and some fries. that was pretty much it for liverpool. an enjoyable and memorable time, as usual.

em and i had plan for several weels to go to satisfaction feast for old times sake, but em wasn't hungry and didn't want to go downtown to we decided on andy's which is close-- but it was closed so we made soy pesto with artichoke hearts, kalamata olives, mushrooms, garlic scapes, onions, garlic and flaxmeal. it was rad, a welcome throwback to bremily's july.

this morning i was woken up by an extreme beam of light that rivalled that of any alien spacecraft i've seen, but i said screw it and returned to slumber. today was a lazy one until midafternoon. i got to see thomas working the pallets at the quinpool superstore. i hadn't seen him for a few months, so this was fantastic. i really wanted a litre of soynog, but decided to hold off until nearer to _mas. i haven't decided if i've picked the best or worst time to once again cut sugar from my diet. (emotions say you're a big jerk and i hate you, give me my sweet white crack. body says you're a tool for not doing this sooner. please-- no more crack or i will knot your bowels and you'll cry forveva!)

blake and i hung tight this afternoon and watched about half (blake had to leave to watch alfie of all movies) of the movie soylent green, which so far is supremely amusing and intriguing. we're eager to watch the end of it tomorrow, altho chris already revealed (read: ruined) a crucial part. if we'd not been stoned perhaps we'd've been able to see it coming. after he left, i decided i needed (not wanted) to take the bus to the mall and buy some black thread with which to repair some pants, a decent vegetable peeler to peel the two enormous pumpkins my parents brought me from the country, and a pair of pants, as i don't fit into any of the ones that i have. so i got to the bus stop, collected myself and took note of the mood i was in which was shittypissyfucked-- an asshole mood to be in at the nall, so i turned around and walked home, then to canadian tire where i didn't find a suitable peeler. at home i decided it best to forgo trying to write my article or seek someone to hang out with, and rather spend time by myself. i was in serious need of some emotional catching up, so catching up is what i did. i spun :wumpscut: and vomitted emotionally into journal #51 for a good while, letting myself drip, daydream and reminisce as necessary. i feel a fuck of a lot better, the details are more sorted/sordid. dad called tonight. he has ESP and i swear he knows when i want to talk the least and calls then. it's cool when he calls and i am pissy because he can handle it (and therefore i make no effort to stop sounding hateful), but it brings momma down so i always have to play joyful. dad called because he had some advice on me becoming a multimillionaire. altho that sounds splendid and all, becoming a multimillionaire isn't something that's pressing for me today, and i told him i'd rather live it up now than have millions of dollars when i'm so old i can't even go an hour without pissing myself. ok, i'm just being negative-- so what else is new? actually, i've been doing fairly well-- i just got smoked with a tidal melancholy wave tonight. so i made some red lentil soup and blogged an oldfashioned blog and after the rest of my emotional sorting, i feel a bit like a multimillionaire. dad would be proud. oh, and i found and old dirty loonie tonight by kicking it and hearing the clink. i was fucking overjoyed. maybe i'll squirrel it away for safe keeping, and buy a ball of yarn with it when i'm 80.

c'mon! 

c'mon!

last night at the attic was a metlin' good time. thanks for eventually conceding to let me in, by the way. i'm actually kind of susprised (see: not letting me in this summer-- refusing me with my own ID). drank a pile o' whisky (to add to the few i had before leaving the house). there were two metal bands: from lunenburg county (chaotic roots) and saint john in the nb (hollow), both of which were pretty decent. and then c'mon, who were amazing. an ian blurton band with katielynn, hotness of nashville pussy fame, and a dude named randy. i was really inuit, and rocked out in the front row, allowing me to touch katielynn's back and have ian blurton's crotch in my face. i don't go way back musically with ian blurton-- only to bionic, who i was pretty into when i saw-- but now he's out. and katielynn (who reminds me of my best friend jane from elementary school-- but if she wasn't a religiously repressed housewife, and say, instead was a bass-wielding rock goddess) is also done with nashville pussy (shit!) they are committed to c'mon, which excites me greatly. apparently they'll probably be swinging thru again in the spring, and are releasing an album at the end o' the month. i hung out with randy (who provided me with some water that the attic just won't give), the drummer for a lengthy stint, but i didn't go back to his hotel room as per his wishes. he was a good fella and all, but, uh, i wasn't inuit. c'mon, check 'em out! oh yeah, and choke played, but i wasn't to into caring. tight, but not my scene.

and i watched the simpson's treehouse of horror XV tonight, which was a fairly strong effort, and pretty amusing, as usual.

R E S C U E M E! 

rockin' the ____

spent the day in the apothecary, coming out only for sips of water and a tub of tofu. rocked to classic rock and something cuban (hello halifax!!). the evening promised something, as grampa and FNMS were working, as well as bremily's other half. lots of amusing banter and pretending to be working while we were mostly eating (bananas, greens bars, and for me-- well-- pastry). all was well as could be until my least favourite customer walked in and asked for selenium-- which made me remember who this asseater was from the getgo. he's a fuckwad whose teenage daughter had to issue an aplology because she felt so badly for me at the way he treated me a few months ago. since, he has told two different employees on separate occassions that he's surprised that in a health food store the employees would all be overweight and unhealthy-looking. i don't think any of my co-workers are representative of this description, and even if so, what a fuckface to say it outloud. i was infuriated enough when he said it to the last girl, and now it's personal when he says this after dealing mostly with me. if he comes back, bond is totally banning him from the store. his ass is grass.
and some rescue remedy, l-theanine, ganj, yerba mate and rock music later, i am ok, swell, in fact the antithesis of how i was feeling a couple of hours ago. i may tho still go with my horoscope's advice today and lay lower than higher tonight. and bro and i had a few ideas, which makes me feel better better best yet. bigupyaself!

the blog that shouldn't be

screw me sleeping a lot tonight, but i had a lot of energy to burn--eating cookies and french fries, see, and flapping my gums on the phone-- one of my least favourite things, but one of those things that i end up doing a lot because not everyone can be here with me when i want them to (which is rotten).

since my last blog entry i've: bitten into a glass vial, done my dishes twice, been visited at random times by my landlord who has taken like 10 hours to far to change two stove elements, tried to change the fuses downstairs, been told two funny jokes (ha! ha! x 1500), made a huge batch of cancerfighting herbal tea, made a small batch of unimpressive cookies in my toaster oven having forgotten that maybe my oven would work, eaten lots of junk and lots of healthy food, badmouthed my "industry," chilled avec ma frere, watched a less-than-amazing movie (sorry, you're amazing-- but we're not taking any more of your movie recommendations), worn a green clay mask, smoked, been tasteless, called my parents, called g's mom a bitch, was offered an article in the senior's advocate, bought a book i'd never heard of instead of cds i'd been sharvin' for, sat in disbelief that you-know-who had won you-know-what, spilled my heart to the guy who cleans the store, looked at my credit card bill and was surprised that there was actually a charge, got off, read my horoscope which didn't suggest that i get myself off, etc.

so tonight i found out a friend of a dear friend killed herself. my dear friend asked me to do something interesting tonight so we'd have shit to gossip about in the morn. i suspect this will be more than adequate. i can't quite top this, nor would i want to. so after a string of unrelated calls, i go online and realize that i, no surprise, have a death-related msn tag-- "baby, join me in death," which i had recently replaced, "die die die my darlin" and "celia fate" with. i tried to think of a tag that wasn't dark or death related, and i kept coming up with more death-related ones. i, of course, could think of nothing but so i ended up with the dumbest tag, "like a stone" which is simply an audioslave song. and i hate this name, and i will rub the matchsticks in my noggin together to represent with something a tad more interesting.

so i've been desperately wanting to go out for the last two nights-- energy abound--- but no. i have plans for tomorrow at the marquee (the arcade fire, the organ, wax mannequins, the holy shroud) and saturday at the attic (chaotic roots, c'mon, hollow, choke). i have a date for tomorrow night, but not saturday. anyone? lotsa good metal.

i have two jokes, someday soon you'll hear them.

paycheck tomorrow. hello pants without rips in them and more music (shows and cds), and oh, whisky.

blog the vote, again

today will be nervewracking. so nervewracking. there's not even much point in staying up to watch the results-- as they won't likely be in for a couple of weeks if 2000's vote has showed us anything. they've already had fuckloads of trouble in florida (yes, florida), including losing ballots and people not being able to vote properly because they can only show up at one polling station, which apparently wasn't made clear to them or something. i heard this on the radio this morning, sorry for incoherent/incomplete details. fuck these electrontronic voting systems! and teach people how to vote. christallmighty! gods and godesses, especially those of justice and peace, please guide undecided voters and republicans to the left (the right). and for the rest of us, check out the blogs of two most political boys: bruthablog and lycrablog.

'nuff said! 

happy new month, happy post-hallowe'en (i hate how it's over)

my dad would've said "happy new month" if he'd spoken to me today. it always seemed so dorky that it annoyed me, but now i want to say it to everyone. but today, i said it to nobody (altho i thought about it all day).

today's biggest accomplishments were getting up early (thanks to my brother's coworkers), getting a combined 11 hours of sleep (that includes last night's 8! wahoo!), and doing laundry (props to g for carrying it).

also, went to a boyfriend exorcism-- my first. there were no religious figures or holy water or chanting-- only horror stories of boyfriends past. there was a point where we all kind of said, yeah, such and such a thing-- that's horrible-- then realized we'd all done said bad thing. sigh. ha. thanks, crys for the wine, and the times.

so many months of nights of not going to bed until 3 or 4 or 5 or 6 or 7 in the am and getting up a few hours later has finally caught up with me (yeah, you can say i told you so). i seem to be able to cope on a mental and physical level, but i suppose my organ systems would tell a different story. and it's not so beneficial for my bowels. they need a lot of time to heal. and not so good for my immune system. so i got a little cold, and have been taking the usual (altho toned down by hallowe'en, a marked improvement and sheer laziness) cold-fighting protocol of natural remedies. i tried a new one this time-- a chinese remedy, yin chiao), and a homeopathic-- corzalyia. they've been helpful, and now all i have is a little cough and a bit of a stuffy nose. not such a big deal.

i was at my worst, tho, on devil's night, the first day of my cold. i felt like absolute ass and sneezed the whole way thru the kid baron show, which was mega-annoying and sucky and tiring (not the show, but the sneezing). the cool thing about khyber shows is that they begin more or less on time and end early because of whatever liquor lisence they have. so we were out of there by 1:30. we did, tho, have to stand in line at reflections forever. the lineup was ridiculous. if it wasn't hallowe'en and/or i wasn't meeting my brother, i would've lost my patience long before i did. we ended up not finding him for a long time, but danced to a like 15-minute version of c+c's "everybody dance now" to fill in time. saw an old high school friend who went on about how he was evolving and how he was surprising the world with who he was and shit, and i brushed him off, said yeah, cool, whatever, and realized a couple of minutes later that he was trying to tell me he was gay. the ultimate clue was him dancing hotly with a boy dressed as adam (yes-- the beginning of christian time adam). i let adam ahead of me in line in the ladies' washroom for some reason, and i held his apple while he peed. he kissed me. the bathroom at reflections is fun because you never know who will be in there-- there's always a boy, and usually a couple of girls in a stall together-- at least.... so then we found blake, just as we were about to leave. he handcuffed me and said the key was at home-- which may have meant i was to stay over at joey's-- but i ended up not at joey's. i walked home in the dim daylight and got precious few hours of sleep before i failed to rise at the proper time (no, not early because of daylight savings), despite trying to set three alarms. nathan called 40 minutes after the store opened, and altho i was feeling as tho dipped in hell, i decided it'd be quicker to throw some more fresh blood, pallor and mud on me, and get out the door that to scrape the remnants off. i tied for first place costume at work. $20 worth of free groceries is great for showing up muddy, bloody and half asleep for work and throwing herbs in a jar. after work, i felt more rundown than i have in ages, and so ran myself a rare bath, lit some candles, threw in some epsom salts and eucalptus oil almost fell asleep. tried to scrub off the dried blood that didn't rub off in my brother's bed (sorry). hallowe'en itself was kind of a bust. greg couldn't find raisins for me at the superstore, and i think i recycled the 70 or so comics i was planning on giving out, i cancelled hallowe'en giving this year. sorry 'hood kids. i also didn't get to the metal show at the pavillion (i wouldve passed out, i'm sure), or goth night (apparently the goth night to end all goth nights is the hallowe'en edition). but saturday about made up for it, that and hallowe'en at work, which was pretty awes, especially as we listed all the strange cutsomers we could dress up as for hallowe'en next year.

every day is (or i wish it was) hallowe'en.

in a sentence (albeit a runon one)

got up early (this is so foreign to me that getting out of the house at 9:30 before work seemed like a huge accomplishment. thanks 3 am bedtime) and ventured downtown to find a pilot's hat and i found one but it was damaged and $15 so i didn't buy it and then i went to random play and purchased a new :wumpscut: cd so i can listen to him constantly and not have him wear out his welcome and i had 2 cups of yerba mate and was in the most energetic, fantastic mood until i came home from work, tried on my halloween costume on and was too fat for it, so i ate a bunch of corn chips and avocado, ("mmmm...avacado," you say) couldn't find the stack of 70 comics i bought 3 years ago for giving out to kids (probably because i recycled them-- even tho i keep lots of other utterless useless drivel around, got pissed and tired and went to bed early (10pm!), which was cool but then got woken up by g who insisted on talking despite my delerious state-- lots of fun stories and all, but i am wired now, and it's now 2 am and i am back to it being an ol' night where i deprive myself of sleep and pretend i can manage.

well blastitalltohell!

p.s. censorship sucks. i had to take the warts-ridden vag off my blog so my brother wouldn't get fired for looking at a medical photo (gloves and all) at work. screw you tipper gore. screw you: many more.

the STDs i don't have

i don't have chlamydia
or HPV
or herpes
or genital warts
or gonnorhea
or trich.
these are all fine STDs not to have, and i am pumped.
if i have anything else, i've not been tested for it yet.
round two to come.

chris carved me a jack o'lantern something like this. thanks, dude. p.s.--> it's like my toque! 

i'm not smilin', fuck that shit.

i'm in the annoying position of being woken up twice every morning, so i just have to stay up. the cool/uncool thing is, i hop out of my bed, over the couch and onto the trampoline, which, if i were a little more coordinated in the mornings, could be a very positive/bouncy way to begin the morning. in my case, i end up narrowly avoiding an ankle or wrist sprain as i catch my could-be-cool move in mid-slip/fall.

so i had breakfast early with g, and stayed up for an extra hour before resigning myself to bed after feigning the desire to be productive and trolling around on various university websites at 9 am. i locked myself in the bedroom and decided against answering the phone or door until at least suppertime. secretly, i really wanted to answer the phone, but i just didn't want to handle anything or really talk to anyone. i was just cursious who'd call. this is when call-answer would be a handy feature. but seriously, i wasn't that inuit. did a bit of journal writing, tried to read kurt vonnegut and frustatedly hucked the book on the coffee table, realizing my concentration level was all but present. laid on the couch for another few hours, until about quarter to five. at this time my brother got out of bed, and i read a month-old edition of toronto's now magazine, mostly about organics-- so that was cool. when blake opened the door to go outside, there was the most beautiful 11x14 envelope on the heater, and inside was a frameable fairy card from alicia. absolutely fabukous! then i sat on the couch for another couple of hours ("the couch method," according to cosmo) and looked at the walls, all the while talking to blake thru the new folding screen as he played sim city 4. decided finally to buy myself some sushi at andy's. while i was waiting for my vegetarian combo a to come, i wrote many pages in my journal in red ink (red for anger, red for love, red for angry love or lovely anger). and i perused the halifax pop explosion itinerary and considered taking in a show next friday at the marquee and/or saturday at the attic (if they let me in). then i bought a box of special k for g and another ritter sport marzipan for myself. i stopped into roger's in the shittest mood and tried not to swallow jared's ever-jovial soul with my doom. i think he escaped. i didn't think there was anything funny enough at roger's to rent. what a dork i am. i was just too pissy/pussy to pick anything. and the day came-- the day had finally arrived for sugar and spice to be the right movie for me to watch, and blake had it on his shelf. i laughed a lot. by this time, my mood had brightened considerably. the onslaught of sugar and alchohol i dumped into my body last night was starting to course more evenly through my bloodstream. must've been the protein from the soy icecream. uhhuh.

chris asked if i wanted to carve pumpkins tonight, and after i asked him if his mood was at least not worse than mine, and i was satisfied with his answer, i agreed, and we went to frank sobey's for some more pumpkins. i got a mini pumpkin from the foyer, and he climbed into the pumpkin patch to get a squat pumpkin. and he got 2 mini strobe lights for free from the vending machines, which was rad. at home, he carved a jack skellington pumpkin into a true jack o'lantern for me, which made my hallowe'en thus far. and i carved a sad-faced wee pumpkin and gave him some tiny horns. g, who will, as chris predicts "be a shitty father someday" tried to force us into a 2 am photo shoot, and asked chris to "put his paw on the pumpkin". we gave him one photo and then he went snitty-fatigued to bed to listen to blur.

"i'm not smilin', fuck that shit," won me an award for funniest thing said all day by one. and it's cool that i made someone laugh, and that eventually i could forge a smile myself. hoorah.

blah: i missed the best part of the lunar eclipse.

yar: 6 mg of melatonin: scuttle/hurry! je besoin de sleep.

lion's share of somethin

quite. 

as indulgent as i wanna be

when something bad happens, or when i wanna start anew, i always make a mental list of all the shit i wanna indulge in before i climb back on the wagon. tonight it was: a heaping bowl of pesto pasta (avec all the important trimmings), a ton of maryjane, six shots of whiskey (with and without water), a marzipan ritter sport bar, almost an entire pint of vanilla soy icecream topped with pure maple syrup, a few pieces of hell's kitchen pizza crust and hummus that tasted like a boxed casbah mix and pita (which i didn't even finish) from freeman's. i am at my brim, and only have a plateful of veggie sushi to go before i have everything i want to forcefeed myself. hello tomorrow, seul.

tonight was open mic with dean malenkos

this afternoon was arts and crafts with pete

and the mall with crm

and also tonight was dishes and larfs avec frere

and also a nice walk and time, mostly needed, but definitely had.

now i think i just need to shut the fuck up.

erasure

i erased this blog, because i hated it. first time.

i'm listening to the city fields album, and digging it. i had to wean myself off :wumpscut:

so, people have found my blog recently by searching for the following items on google:

margaret lawrence bio

advice for how doing brazillian bikini waxing

www.machinefuck

the tragedies halifax

and to bed i go. i wish i was having a drink with mike like i did last night. we sat at our respective computers and geekily chatted on msn while having a drink (he wine, and i whisky). funny, we met online like 9 years ago-- and a true pal he remains. i'll drink to that (but next time, in person).

lucia=madhot 

intercontinental pop exchange

i think there was some twisted secret exhange program at work when the heavy blinkers toured germany, while KMFDM came to halifax. germany could probably use some more fey orch pop, and halifax could certainly use some more nihilist industrial influence. and some nihlist industrial influence we had last night at stage nine. all the dark rock, goth, long haired-metlins, S&M folks, (dark) comic shop regulars, diehard KMDFDM fans, four or five out-of place huge jocks, and many a generally apathetic folk were out last night in full affect as if the gates had opened just for them and closed behind them when they left. most of these people you don't see around, or at least in such large groupings. there were, tho, many familiar faces there, aside from the people i knew: the main waiter at andy's restaurant, the manager of the downtown le chateau, comic shop employees, my new ally from a downtown record store, etc etc. the crowd was impeccably polite. everyone took care to say excuse me as they passed you to go to the bar, bathroom, front of the venue etc. a group of us keeners, who were at the front for the shitty dj performance were punished by the masses by being stood in front of. we formed a sort of short alliance and cordoned off a couple of square feet of empty space in which to move at our leisure. one of the dudes had fashioned a vest of caution tape and duct tape, which was pretty relevant as well as durable. a random dude stopped me, asked me if i was ready for the mayhem or something, and offered: "if you need a boost, just come and ask us." whatever that means. ididn't ask them. enough sociology. the show was superamazing-- unlike anything i expect to see- but not something i won't try desperately to witness-- again. it was their 20th anniversary tour and wow! when i was 14 listening to kmfdm is a drug against war on dan gallagher's video hits, i never ever expected that i would even have the opportunity to see them. so glad to be wrong on this one. they were loud fast tight passionate thorough dark sexy and playing in our town. they played 20 songs. the female singer, lucia, was mad hot. she oozed confidence and had such solid stage presence, as did most of the rest of them, but this was grand. i wondered aloud if i (or anyone) would find her as hot (or hot at all, really) had she been a mousy girl serving us coffee wearing a pastel sweater. probably not, but it's not worth arguing about. one of the guitarists was really attentive to the crowd-- just kind of watching and making lots of firm but nonassuming eyecontact, which made me wish i had been closer in proximity to the band. i dig looking into their eyes and giving them the look. i appreciate bands who bother to do this. it's hot. i'm not sure what else to say other than that i often forgot where i was and what i was doing, as i was off somewhere incrediblly amazing, mentally and physically. thanks for bothering to come to our town. we are hungry for it.

and after giving a huge lecture to a young rock prodigy co-worker yesterday about the importance of wearing earplus to shows and while jamming (when she had come to me looking for supplements to save her ears from being pillaged by rock music), i didn't wear any at the show, despite having been graciously given a pair because i had forgotten mine.

....

so yesterday i had someone perhaps try to steal my soul. she said she liked my name, that her "professional name" was branny, and that maybe she would change it to my name. but she pronounced it wrong. and this way, even if she does try to change her name to mine, she won't truly steal my soul.

in other yesterday's news, i was telling a co-worker about a pleasant phone call i'd had from a fellow nutrition school grad. she wasn't prying or badmouthing anyone or trying to promote herself. she wanted to call and ask permission to use my article about healthy eating on a budget. she and a friend were doing a talk on the subject and she thought my article was amazing and shit. so this woman approaches me and says she's overheard me and says she knows the woman who called me and says that she's a medical herbalist and she's the one who passed the article on to the n-school girl and she thought my article was oh so concise and informative, etc. that was nice. awesome that me blabbing my mouth off in a positive way went in a positive direction. my negative badmouthing moments at work probably outweigh my positive comments a hundred to one. got lucky.

au current: crown royal and water is my new favourite thing. i don't even have to concern myself about a sugary mix. why didn't anyone tell me of this sooner?