It’s Been a Long Time Since I Rock and Rolled


Hey!

I’m just going to start writing these entries like letters and ramble on. (My friends who I write to on a regular basis completely understand!)

Lately I’ve 1. been reading other peoples blogs; 2. finished a medical terminology course and 3. have had free time at work (NEVER HAPPENS!!!), I’m fucking ecstatic! So all of this led me to think, hey, I could start writing again a little bit.

I’ve been writing in my journal lately but that’s just mindless “what I did today” drivel, blanc mange and totally not engaging so … I’m casting it out there – what do you want me to write about? (Caveat, I do not do politics or religion, but other than that, have at ‘er.

If you give me a topic, I will write about it annnnnnnnnnnnnnnnd go!!!

OMG I am Losing my Mind!


This is the most toxic, soul sucking, depleting job I have ever worked in and I’ve worked in retail AND in the service industry for many years. There is never a break! There are always people looking over my shoulder and minding EVERY FUCKING THING I DO! I hate it and it makes me want to punch people. I know I should be happy that I have a job but honestly, it’s getting to the point where I’m weighing out the odds against my sanity here. I hate the two people I work with, not as people, I could care less – I actually don’t hate anyone really, but I digress – I hate the way they are constantly negative, constantly berating me, constantly berating others, acting like they are so superior and their shit doesn’t stink – what about morale – HELLO!

The other day one of them was bitching about how attendance is so bad – um yeah, this company shows very little appreciation to begin with and this department surpasses that in leaps and bounds by treating us as second class citizens. It’s really too bad because I actually like the job itself. Okay, well it’s my lunch hour so I’m escaping from this hell hole for an hour!

I’ve Missed You My Dear Friend – Yes, You, of course I mean You!


I have not written here in ages … haven’t been writing a lot actually. Got on the band wagon for awhile but recently I’ve been doing a medical terminology course that’s been taking up all my time. Trying to get out of my craptastic job and onto something new and craptastic so maybe it won’t lose its appeal until after retirement. 20 years in the same gig has worn really thin for me, and even then, I’ve switched hats within this field, legal assistant, floater, document production but my gawd do I hate law firms now and I just want to get the fuck out of dodge – or go work for a boutique firm with a bunch of cool lawyers but that’s highly unlikely. Most cool lawyers work for themselves because you know what, they can’t fucking stand lawyers either lol.

Anyway, let’s see.

I’ve recently regained a long, lost friend – actually my best friend in the whole world as far as I’m concerned and we’ve reconnected. That went a really long way to healing a lot of pain in my heart. Plus we’re doing really cool things together. We went out for a nice meal, we went to the art gallery. Hubert’s a great guy in many ways but he NEVER wants to do anything and as a result I end up sitting around like a  homebody when I should be getting off my ass and doing stuff. But there’s a lot of stuff, like the gallery, that I really wouldn’t want to do on my own. There’s always a ton of events down at Harbourfront every summer and it’s minutes away, the Island, specifically Hanlan’s is a favourite of mine … etc., etc. Now maybe I have someone to do at least some of these things with. We’ll just be two old ladies tottering around – teehee. Oh and bonus! She has a cottage up on Georgian Bay. Now if only I could find a hot guy with a car, life would be complete!

I’ve lost and gained and lost and gained so much weight in the last couple of years, it’s ridiculous. I will not talk about going to the gym anymore but hopefully I will get my finger out of my ass and do it one of these days.

This is a really boring entry, good bye.

Yes of course I love you, what was your name again?


50-first-dates.jpg

My life is like a slightly more memory conscious version of 50 First Dates. I don’t need to break out the USB every morning to remember by family but close enough. I have recollections of some things but in no particular order and in no time context whatsoever. We could have been friends for 25 years of three weeks, it would feel the same to me. By the same token, I have forgotten people’s names after knowing them for years, forgotten really important life events and dates and much to the chagrin of most of my boyfriends, forgotten nearly all of those pinnacle points in my relationships.  It’s like this hazy, pot smoked, alcohol filled memory that sort of looms up from time to time (except there was no pot or booze at the time but that’s just how it seems in my head) and it doesn’t seem to pick any particular set time to do it or not either. I will have stark moments of clarity and recollection with people where I will remember the happenstance clear as day. The only thing I seem to be fairly good at with any amount of consistency seems to do with music and, I suspect, that has something to do with how I feel about music in general – you know, it drives me, I couldn’t live without it. Honestly, I wouldn’t want to be in a world without music, can you imagine?!

When I Hear Music

Also, the Alzheimer’s Society must agree because they have a program in coordination with 91.1 Jazz FM wherein through donor contributions (I believe) they provide iPods for old folks loaded up with all their fav tunes and they’ve found this has had amazing results. Not surprising really, music soothes the savage beast and all that.

Let the Music Play

(Also those two tracks ought to tell you a teensy-weensy little bit about me, although my music repertoire is vast lemme tell ya.) K, so this is my Soundhound list for recent stuff: Holding On – Gregory Porter, Heaven – Majical Cloudz, Ho Hey – Lumineers, Leben – I Feel You – Schiller, The Passion of Lovers – The Shroud, Dream of You – Shiller, This Corrosion – The Sisters of Mercy, You Got No Right – Velvet Revolver – most of those were awesome tracks I caught bits of on t.v. shows and wanted to hear the whole thing. Some are old standards and that’s seriously just a fleck of dust in the hour glass that is my love of music. Maybe that’s what I should do – just write a book filled with all the songs, entire albums and their songs, and random one hit wonders that have shaped my life.

I’d blather on about all the kinds of music and genres I like but it’d probably be easier to narrow it down to what I don’t like – ga head ax me if you like, otherwise I’ll just leave it at that. One of the things that’s kind of cool about my altered chaotic head is about 50% of the time or more I have a soundtrack playing in the background and it’s amazing how many different songs will flit through my head at any given time and thanks to YouTube and the like, I’ve pretty much got it all at my fingertips. Here’s one that will make your hair stand on end, it’s sooooooo magnificent!

Black Diamond – Yoshiki & The American Symphony Orchestra

So basically, I’m in a perpetual Alzheimer-esk state with bouts of lucidity and a slightly better temperament because I’ve been dealing with it so long. Also, I have some mad skills that just sort of come automatically, but by the same token you can see my several kinds of special say in my journals where sometimes a word will be crossed out three and four times. Okay, yes, sometimes it will be because I misspelled it but most of the time it’ll be because I just couldn’t seem to get my hand to incorporate that missing letter, or I just spazed out and it looks suddenly so bad, it’s illegible. Good times. Still, I really like writing long-hand and it’s a place where I can write sheer drivel and not worry about offending anyone (well, myself later on, s’why I don’t read them over anymore as I’ve said before).

So, if I forget your name, forget who you are, forget our anniversary, forget I took your virginity or any number of poignant life-altering events – just forget it, ‘cause I already have (not on purpose of course). Just remember, being with Danielle involves a lot of forgiving and forgetting, but it’s a lot easier if you do it in reverse like I do.

Hello Everybody!


First of all, my humblest apologies for being so lame. Now I understand how people find it hard to write and give up. Seems that’s exactly what I did. The funniest thing happened though to start me on the “road to recovery” – a friend wrote to me from jail. Well, is he a friend? That’s kind of up for debate. I’ll get to that in a moment. So of course, I wrote him back and it reminded me how long it’s been since I’d written. Typing his letter was great and writing here is great too but I mean, written.

For most of my life, I have diligently kept a journal, granted the majority of it is lame, boring and self-absorbed and no one in their right mind would want to read it I suspect but it’s a great way to vent and actually handwriting things is oh so cathartic. It’s so much more intense than typing and I’m sad to see it going by the wayside which brings me back to my mantra of I’m glad I won’t be alive in 50 years. (I used to say 100 but let’s face it, I’m not getting any younger here folks.)

Long hand writing is truly a labour of love. I’ve always had this fantasy that someone would find all my journals posthumously and I’d become famous after the fact. I actually started to type them out at one point, you know thinking I could put them together in some form of autobiographical-esk collaboration that would blow me up into superstardom and I wouldn’t have to have a shitty McJob anymore … but when I started typing it out, it was either: a) I was boring myself to death; or b) it was highly embarrassing and, for the most part, a little bit of both. What it did not make for was riveting writing. Oh sure, I could wade through the oceans of writing to find a few droplets or poignant truths here and there but blech! No thanks. Now you know several of the millions of reasons why no one knows any of my plethora of works – because there isn’t any.

But anyway, back to the matter at hand. Yeah, so I started writing to him again, we’ll call him Rug for the sake of fiction … because I will take the time to tell you all about my long-standing relationship with Rug and how, I almost went to jail for the rest of my life (good thing almost doesn’t count), but that’s a whole other story in itself, and might even take me several entries to finish (but probably not). You think your story is sooooooo intense and deep and extensive and then you start writing it down and it’s all, “so I dated this asshole, some shit happened, I’m scarred for life but it made me a better person, and here we are” type deal.

But one thing interesting that came out of knowing Rug was my fascination with the whole incarceration system. I started watching programs on jails and convicts and so on and during one of these programs they advertised this program where you could find a pen pal in jail, there’s a bunch of them now, but at the time there was only one that I was aware of and I can’t for the life of me remember the name, which kind of sucks at this juncture of the story because it was part of what compelled me to want to write to someone.

Anyway, it was pretty cool. I poured through pictures and profiles and stuff and I picked out this guy Corey because he had really cool tats and he looked like a nice person. Turned out that he was a really cool person and fairly smart too. He came from a good family, had everything in place for when he got out of jail. He’s now been out for several years and has a wife and kid and seems pretty happy. I’m still friends with him on Facebook but we don’t really keep in touch very much now, which I kind of understand because, well essentially I’m part of his old life. We wrote to each other for eight years. It’s one of my best friendships even though we’ve never met in real life. I still hope that one day we will. That was a really cool happenstance to because he was creative, he was a good writer, he even sent me drawings and they were wicked good.

Rug was (and is obviously) in and out of jail while I was seeing him and I guess one of the main reasons that I started writing to someone in jail was to try and have a better understanding of the situation. It didn’t really help me understand anything any better but I think it helped to resolve some conflicting emotions. As for Rug himself, honestly I like it so much better when he’s in jail, it’s way harder for him to get junk and he stays clean (junk, crystal, crack … whatever I’m sure he’d do whatever was handed to him at this point.) I don’t worry about him as much. To be honest, I thought he would have keeled over long before now. He’s in his 40s and been doing junk since he was 15, been shot, stabbed, bashed in the head with a baseball bat (dude, he literally has a dent in his head from this) and flat-lined on several occasions and yet, he’s still here. It’s a frickin’ miracle really.

The weird thing about the whole Rug situation for me was I’d avoided creeps my whole life but this guy, I practically ran into his arms and, the funny thing was, it wasn’t just me, the girls before, the girls after – most pretty, smart, capable – same thing. The one after me had a kid with him FFS and now, he’s not even allowed to see his son. When he wrote to me, he asked about seeing if he could get in touch with her and his son while in jail – I skipped right over that conversation. The last thing she will do is try and encourage that relationship. And p.s. do you know just how righteously fucked up you have to be to be living minutes away from your child and lose all custody in Canada? That’s severely messed up people.

Okay and that’s my ramble for today – toodles!