Tag Archives: Celeste

September 2005

September 1, 2005 Heather Leave a comment

Moving Day!!!! – September 1/05 – 8 am

Q is moving into his new home today, and I have taken the day off to SLEEP, NOT read the news, and help out by comforting Celeste. Also, it’s sunny which is much better than rain on a moving day.

Hooking Heather Up
A variety of “opportunities” have arisen whereby friends and acquaintances are matchmaking for me. I have a 36 year old tall man and a 23 year old academic in my future . . . and I have a new neighbour, as of last night, who is my age, but I think he’s short. For those who don’t know, I have a standing reward for anyone who finds me a good one — a $100 gift certificate for Bravo’s restaurant, the best food in Victoria. So go forth and add to my Potential Booty List!

How Many Bunny Rabbits is Too Many? – Friday, Sept. 2/05
Mom & Dad have decided to focus their parental energies on my excessive rabbit population. And to an extent I agree: Seamus and Caramel would be much happier and healthier as house rabbits. BUT it’s difficult to find a home that would give them the freedom and attention that would compensate them for losing their porch haven. Also, Caramel is not littertrained and would require an attentive and forgiving bunny parent.

Just Sos Ya Know, Normal Rabbits Endure the Following:

Too-small cages that don’t allow them to jump around, run, tunnel, and exercise properly. If a bunny lives in a cage, they require a minimum of three hours cage-free exercise a day. That’s a lot of supervision.
Cages with metal mesh on the bottom, which hurt their feet, and pine shavings (sold by most pet stores as “rabbit” cage shavings), which give them liver & other internal organ problems.
A lack of attention. And yes, I do forget about my baby bunnies occasionally, but I check on them at least twice a day (due to their feeding schedule).

Mom’s arguments tend to focus on the porch as wasted space, rabbit-stink, and bunnies as mobility-limiting factors. Once a strong person wanders into my house, I intend to recruit their assistance and get that piss-stained futon couch off my porch. I want to replace it with plastic chairs and a table, and then I can easily clean any mess, and sit and drink tea with the bunnies. It’s shady out there even on the sunniest day, which is ideal for rabbits but not for me . . . the only reason I’d go out there would be to bond with S&C.

As for the rabbit-stink, that’s due to Peter and his litter box, and there’s nothing I can do about that except keep him/it clean, open the doors, and burn some incense. Peter’s worth a little stink.

Goddamn Hootchie Neighbours
The house-owner’s daughter had a party last night. She’s normally very lovely, but a drunken Thursday night screamfest has upset my opinion of her. At 10:30pm I went over, trying to look as harried as possible, and told them I had to work at 6:30am and could they please shut up. I’ve learned, however, that drunken assurances mean shit, and therefore they continued until late. I fell asleep at 11pm or so, but my Dad (who is visiting as of yesterday) was awake when someone authoritative starting yelling and closed down the party. Poor Dad! On a boat for two weeks, and his first land-sleep is distrupted by a bunch of hootchies.

Dad, Visiting
Dad called from Sidney yesterday, where he moored his 22-foot Catalina sailboat (aka a floating Volkwagen). He helped the Q move and bought us Chinese food for dinner, and chatted up the movers and told funny stories about currents and a stick-figure Jesus on Thetis Island. I love my Dad.

Yep
This is a random and scattered little entry today . . . But I’ve been random and scattered lately. Hopefully these notes encompass most of the “significant” stuff from the past 25 hours.

Other stuff includes:

email from Vitto saying “saw you at Syn, hi there”;
have managed to cut Shawn from my life for a week now, with no significant sense of loss (I have no time for inconsiderate poohs);
bought 4 shirts on Wednesday and they made me feel happy, so am tempted to buy into the whole “retail therapy” lifestyle
I think Justin has moved to Seattle by now — I’ll have to catch up with Jessie today;
my sister is 1cm dilated (???) and the baby has “dropped” (????) and I could be an aunty ANY DAY NOW.

Dad Returns to the Sea – Sunday, Sept.4/05 – 8:50 am
Dad left for Sidney and his boat, Rorinante, this morning. We had a good visit — lots of intense conversations and the usual. Dad tends to parent like today’s the last day to parent, so he shares all the wisdom and stories he can think of. I love it. It’s exactly the oppositive of those superficial “How are you? Fine” conversations that most people seem to want to have.

Joel Kroeker
We went to see Joel Kroeker play at Logan’s last night. If there is a god, and if god has a voice, he sounds like Joel Kroeker. I LOVE JOEL KROEKER. This was the first time I’ve seen him play with his full band, though, and it was a lot of sound. What’s with bands? They must all be deaf because they turn their bass/guitar/etc volumes up way too loud, the drummer doesn’t bother to muffle his bass, and then I can’t hear a fricking word of the song. Joel’s voice was audible, though, so at least Dad got to hear how good he is. The first singer was Harmony Trow-something — she has an unusual voice so I bought her cd to give it a proper listen when I do dishes today.

“Ramping Up” to Fall Drama
(See how I slipped in that gov’t phrase? Oh, yes. I’m learning.) My neighbour Tim is a hottie. He’s shorter than my usual preference, about 6-feet or something. But he will be a pleasant friend at the very least. He had bunnies once. And it’s so easy to approach neighbours — there are infinite excuses for visits.

Also, my as-yet-unmet-but-recommended-by-friend 36 year old man John called me Friday night and left a message. Hopefully I’ll be able to meet him this week. He sounds like fun.

AND, just so things don’t get too inconsistent, Q and my friend Regan invited us to her Birthday on the 16th. Regan is the older sister of my RockStar, Ryan. While the whole thing feels awkward and unnecessary, it might lead to some interesting stories.

To Be Continued
I will add more later this weekend, but Seven Years in Tibet just started on TV.

SuperHeather – Monday, Sept. 5/05 – 9:10 pm
I’m trying a new strategy whereby I figure out what pisses me off, then I fix it. Today I bought one of those shoe holders that hang on one side of a door, and so all my smelly shoes are stuck into the pockets and they won’t get all scuffed and grimy and stink up my closet anymore. Also, I managed to disassemble my futon frame tonight: a square-headed screwdriver and some pliers were needed, and my hammer. I felt very tooly. The frame is now in handy 3×4.5-foot chunks, and I can toss them off my porch and into the dumpsters tomorrow. Yay! I plan to get a sweet little plastic or metal patio set — one or two chairs and a wee table for my tea. Then I can snuggle with the bunnies all winter and watch the rain storms.

Updates re: Booty
I went upstairs to invite Neighbour Tim to breakfast/lunch today, but he wasn’t there (or didn’t answer my knock) so that was a failure. However, I did pass him while walking home from Christie’s pub — he was walking with a girl riding her bike. I should expect that he has a girlfriend, to avoid disappointment. Regardless, he smiled hugely at me and he’s clearly in love with me. Fun fun fun.

The 36 year old guy, John, called me — did I already mention this? Anyhoo, he left a message and I haven’t called him back yet. I’ve been bonding with Dad and watching plays and eating. Tomorrow I should send him an email or something.

And re: Mom’s hookup of a 23 year old smartie pants, I haven’t heard anything. So no exciting news there.

Christie’s Pub
The pub is only three blocks or so from Q’s new house. We went there for dinner tonight — Dean’s treat. Dean’s visiting Q from Ottawa before he jaunts off to Lebanon for his work with the foreign service. What a hottie. We walked Celeste on Dallas Road today and gawked at sweaty football players.

Also, I learned how to shampoo a carpet: Q had to clean his bedroom in the old apartment, so I read and interpreted the instructions while the boyz did the work. It’s actually not that tricky. I was inspired to borrow Q’s vacuum, and I might actually attempt to vacuum up all the dust bunnies in this place. Peter HATES the vacuum, though, so I’ll have to do it early in the day; otherwise, he’ll keep me awake all night with his stomping.

Peter Relearns Boundaries
He’s been leaving dainty poops in the area around his food & water dishes and litter box. This means he is claiming it as his territory. However, it is actually MY territory since I pay the rent and have to walk through the mess to get to my drawers, so I’ve moved all of his “survival” stuff* closer together to remind him that his space is limited.

*I specified “survival” stuff because Peter has quite a few personal possessions (“luxuries”) around the house: sticks under most of the furniture, a wicker basket, silk scarf and blankie under the drafting table, a ribbon tied to the desk to suck on, and then of course his de-construction site underneath the couch.

Laundry Hell – Tuesday, Sept. 6/05 – 9:00 pm
I intended to get all my clothes clean today but because Q’s new laundry washer and drier are the WORST LAUNDRY WASHER AND DRIER EVER, I’m only done 1 load. (Load one of two yellows, of SIX loads in total.)

Load #2 is in the middle of its second time around in the drier. Load #3 is stuck in the washer. Loads #4-6 are stagnating in the hall.

Ugh.

Meanwhile
Celeste wants to play with her tennis ball . . . she loves her new home!!!!!!

(Exciting Appointment Today – Wednesday, Sept. 7/05
Spencer’s cutting my hair today!!!!!! YAYAYAYAYAY!!!)

Short Hair & Clean Clothes – Wednesday, Sept. 7/05 – 10:14 pm
I feel like a SuperStar. Except that I have too many clothes and too few hangers, so I will have to invest in some sort of storage container for all my summer shite in order to make room for the sweaters.

Moment of Political Awareness (or not)
Spencer asked me what’s going on with the hurricane Katrina situation down in New Orleans. Since I read all the major newspapers every day I’m usually sort of “in the know” about current news, but when asked to paraphrase I realized that all I’ve really been doing is looking at the crazy, surreal pictures and reading the personal stories and tallying headlines that promote or discourage financial donations.

I wonder if it’s better to be “sort of in the know” about what’s happening, or totally oblivious. I felt a little guilty, not even knowing the exact death count so far. (I think it’s 1,000 but it might be 10,000 — or that might just be a headline I saw from another story . . .)

Also I feel guilty about my secret fetish for all things Apocalyptic. Natural disasters intrigue me, since I’ve never actually experienced one directly. I had to watch myself while talking to Spencer at the salon, to make sure I didn’t smile too much or seem too eager to talk about how terrible it all is — there were other people there, and I didn’t want to offend someone. On September 11 I was giddy and only realized how inappropriate my glee was once Q and I ran into Rachel, who had friends working in the towers.

But it’s true, I’ve always loved books where ALMOST everyone in the world dies, and then a few survive so they have to forage and fend and find some half-assed reason to continue. Ironic, considering that with my terrible eyesight I’d be DOOMED once my corrective eyewear was lost (like Piggy in Lord of the Flies . . .). And being a wee woman there’s rape and all kinds of terrible shit to think of. And my bunnies! They’d be screwed . . .

Everyone has guilty fantasies, though. I suppose mass death and anarchy are relatively mild . . .

Putting Away My Clothes – Thursday, Sept. 8/05 – 7:11 pm
The saddest part was when I realized that I own two identical pink tanktops and FOUR identical muscle shirts. Apparently my short-term memory problems are more serious than I’d thought.

Peter’s Birthday – Friday, Sept.9/05
I don’t know exactly when Peter’s birthday is, but I think I adopted him sometime in August/September . . .

Resolution is a Wonderful Thing – Saturday, Sept.10/05 – 11:31 am
Regan and Ryan (aka my RockStar) came to Victoria to visit their uncle Gordie, who is recuperating from an operation. Q and I met them for lunch, plus their gramma and dad, and it was exactly the scary experience I’d expected — I had no fucking clue what to say or do with Ryan, since I had no fucking clue what was going on, and whether he wanted anything from me other than WriterStyle advice & input. Regardless, I sorta survived that one, and then we went back to work.

After work I went home and slept for a few hours, until Old Man John (my 36 year old potential love-interest) called, and then I had a half-asleep conversation — I think we’re hooking up on Sunday or sometime this week — and then I got up and went downtown to meet Rowan and Regan and Q at the Sticky Wicket for some drinky drinks on the rooftop. (What’s with all these “r” names???)

And then we all taxied to Safeway and picked up bananas and booze (not in that order), and returned to Q’s to frolic with Celeste and Regan/Ryan’s old doggy, Maggie.

Ryan was keeping his gramma company at their hotel until she fell asleep, and then he came to Q’s at 11 and got me and we went for a really long walk ‘n’ talk, and now I feel 100% better.

The Walk ‘n’ Talk
Essentially, Ryan is not in love with me at this time, and that is okay with me because he said so. The uncertainty about everything was making me crazy, but now that loose tooth has fallen out so I can stop obsessing. We walked down to the beach at Dallas Road and grabbed some bonfire that had been abandoned and Ryan played with newspaper and driftwood and I threw rocks to make everything spark. (There’s probably a metaphor in there somewhere . . . ) I don’t like the thought of anyone not being madly in love with me, but since I’m not so sure that Ryan can be in love with ANYONE right now (due to craziness, youth, self-obsession, whatever) I’m happy being one of the ones he tried to love.

I know it is entirely up to me whether I want to be friends/allies/confidantes now, and I think that I will be okay with that sort of relationship — that will have to be reevaluated if/when Ryan falls in love with someone, because then I’ll probably be jealous and pissed off. But for now, I love having this beautiful RockStar Writer man in my life. And now I’m emotionally free to fall in love with someone else (damn these monotasking limitations!) so I CAN have it all: love and sex and writerly companionship.

BitterScripts
Last night at some point I figured out the next part of my new play! Usually I jump up (or roll over) and write EVERYTHING DOWN ASAP because I know I’ll forget the idea(s). But I didn’t. And I still remember them, so hopefully the “spark” will still be there too when I write the new scenes and they will still have that MiddleOfTheNightMagic to them.

Today
R&R are visiting their uncle, and Regan wants to take the doggies for a walk, and Celeste is getting her hair cut this afternoon, and in theory we are having a Mortgages Are Fun housewarming BBQ at Q’s. I’m not entirely sure if that will happen – it’s really just an excuse to get together with some of the people Q&I haven’t seen lately.

Tonight Jessie and I are going to a Crazy Mad Singles’ Party to hook up with hootchie men. More on that tomorrow, I suppose 🙂

Old People Parties – Sunday, Sept.11/05 – 10:57 am
Jessie pointed out that old people (i.e. ages 30+) still like to get together and drink and have a party. When we’re old, we’ll probably do that too. But I won’t want angstful 20-somethings there!

In other words, Jessie & Justin & Jess (“J” names!!!!) and I went to Karen’s party last night, which was supposed to be a singles’ thing but which her man apparently thought was a housewarming, so he’d invited all his old couple friends & coworkers (employees, to be exact) and Karen had invited us. Regardless, it was a good night. Karen & her man Stacy (haha) have this beautiful, crazy-grown-up condo/townhouse/strata/whatever thing on her parent’s development property. It’s THREE STORIES, with a massive walk-in closet in the master bedroom, and a 2-person jacuzzi tub, and it’s just beautiful. I thought she was having a party while her parents were out of town, but no, it’s all hers. Craziness.

I found out when leaving that the old people couples were Stacy’s employees, and that they were all nervous because he was their boss (he’s the CEO at a consulting firm or something); with this in mind, I will say that I slapped his ass at one point, and that my new woman-friend Erica and I rearranged all his CDs and books in Random Acts of Terrorism. Stacy keeps his CDs arranged alphabetically (and there are probably 2,000 of them), and his books are arranged in colour. (Yes, colour. How ridiculous is that????) I assume we’ll be the first on his invite list in the future 🙂

Final R&R Weekend Update
I walked up to Q’s Saturday morning because I was done drinking tea and bored of waiting for him to get ready. Lucky thing too, because I got there about 5 minutes before Regan & Ryan & Maggie left for the ferry, ahead of schedule. Over the summer I’ve accumulated about 4 books (and the second trilogy of the Griffin & Sabine series) for Ryan. I finally got to give them to him, so now there’s that much less clutter in my house, and I won’t have to mail them or anything.

Books include:
Unless, by Carol Shields, because it’s brilliant and Sara Cassidy (her daughter) is producing a play version in late October that I want to see.

Nine Knives (or is it 15??) by Mark Jarman, because he’s a modern-day Kerouac and also the editor of one of the lit magazines I suggested to Ryan — The Fiddlehead.

Generation X, by Douglas Coupland, which I think sucks but it’s a staple of any “generational identity” literary collection, along with Kerouac, etc.

The Griffin & Sabine Morning Star Trilogy, because it’s the perfect example of art+story. Luckily, Ryan has the first three.

Next weekend is Regan’s birthday, and Q&I are going to Richmond to celebrate. I’m no longer dreading it. Yay!

Today’s Forecast
J&J&J invited me for breakfast this morning, but I want to have some time to drink tea & contemplate Peter & maybe write my new scene(s). Q has a spa day today — it started 15 minutes ago, actually. It’s my birthday gift to him, which he’s been saving for after his move. Includes: spa bath, 1 hour massage, facial, pedicure, lunch . . .

Also I managed to cut the nails on Peter’s front left hoof this morning. He hated it. And I got bunny hair all over my shirt.

Welcome Back, Kotter – Monday, Sept.12/05 – 8:55 pm
Back in highschool I LOVED this show. And yesterday I saw some ad on tv that the series was going to be run again, and today I was so excited that I actually tried to find the time & channel online. No luck. And THEN I flipped through some channels tonight after dinner, and whadyaknow, there it was, about to start, the pilot episode.

Fate.

Let’s Talk About Love
I’m starting to suspect that my definition of “love” is different from some of YOUR definitions. So let’s be clear.

“Love” for me is a whole spectrum of stuff. I love Johnny Depp because he is brave enough to be an actor instead of a celebrity in his movies (unlike Leonardo DiCaprio, for example, who is always Leonardo DiCaprio). I love Joel Kroeker because he shines light out through his crazy beautiful voice. I love my RockStar because of his aesthetics (art, music, writing). I love Levi MacDougall because of how he sees the world. I love Ani DiFranco because she thinks everything’s screwed up and also she knows that she’s not the answer to that problem. I love Good People, by which I mean people who have good hearts, who want to create beautiful things, who will never intentionally be cruel or hurtful (although sometimes these people have the urge to hurt or be cruel, just like most poeple, and they are often so overcome with guilt that they feel like they have to atone for what they haven’t done).

Sometimes I “love” someone because I am so attracted to their Good Personness and Light and Beautiful Created Things. And sometimes I want to be veryveryveryclose to them, have sex with them, or just hug them so that I can have some of that beautiful energy too. (And give them some of mine.)

I suspect that when I say I “love” someone, some of you interpret that in other ways. And this has fucked up a lot of possibilities. Because for other people “love” means something very fixed and restrictive, or something else unpleasant.

Anyhoo, I’m going to try and be more careful about using that verb. Which I (ever righteous) think is sad, because why shouldn’t “love” be a daily explanation for our relationships?

Also, I Hit On a Crazy Man
Ohmigod. I was in the sunshine on Starbucks’ patio yesterday, revising my scripts for my MFA application, killing time between brunch with Jessie & co. and sushi with Liv (why does our bonding always revolve around food????) and there was this BEAUTIFUL sexy hottie at a table. He was really tall. 6’4″, maybe. Yum. And when he went into Starbucks to get his coffee I went over to the other guys sitting there and asked if I could sit with them and listen to their mantalk, and they invited me, and so I sat down and talked for an hour or so with these 2 guys from Oregon and the Hottie, who just moved to Victoria from Saskatchewan. I thought I’d won the goddamn lottery — beautiful tall man, right off the boat . . . (or the TransCanada).

And this guy was promising. He’s an artist — he paints stuff. And very smiley, and talkative, and funny, and smart (aka huge vocabulary). So I almost fell in love (see above), but then he went crazy. Specifically, he spontaneously composed and recited a poem to a birdy, and then kept interupting my Oregon conversations to talk about how he was the subject of an intervention, and how he was institutionalised, and then I lent him my notebook because he wanted to write me a poem and ALLOFASUDDEN he started reading this poem to us while we were talking. Clearly a youngest child, clearly a total nutter.

And yes, I confess that I was internally measuring how willing I’d be to ignore his BLATANT SOCIOPATHIC TENDENCIES since he was so fricking pretty. But eventually I left. So you can all relax.

Exhausted & Infectious – Tuesday, Sept.13/05 – 9:25 pm
Now that the legislature is back in session I’m working from 6am to 2pm, Monday to Friday. This isn’t a huge difference in work hours, but I’ve been tired lately regardless. I get home, and I have a hot shower, and I fall asleep. Hopefully my body will eventually adjust and I’ll be able to be productive outside of the office.

Also, my right eye is all pink & weird, and so I went to the optometrist today and he said it’s the beginning of an eye infection, due to wearing my contacts too much. I’ve had contact lenses since I was 8 (really) and apparently this newfound intolerance is due to me getting older. So I’m going to wear my glasses to work more often, and I have some potent eye drops to use for now.

My MFA Application
I haven’t been too worried about the cover letter, the resume, or the stage play sections, but I can’t remember most of my fiction from UVic. I browsed through my portfolios today from all five years of English Lit & creative writing projects, and there are a few good stories that I think are not only worth submitting, but also worth revising at some point. I love reading something, thinking “wow, this is really good,” and half-knowing that I’m the one that wrote it. Hehe.

Anyone Want a Rabbit-Piss-Stained Futon?
The garbage people won’t take it, and I’d rather not pay the junk guy to remove it. I’m considering borrowing one of the grocery carts that are scattered around town and trucking it to the closest dumpster. It will be SO lovely to have it gone . . .

Branding – Thursday, Sept.15/05
Okay, so: back in the day (aka “old school” style) businesses advertised their services/products, and were known as such. For example, the hardward store sold hardware and was known as the hardware store. The grocery store sold groceries. This is still true for some businesses — including those in smaller towns that have so far resisted “big box” stores and the usual franchises (e.g. McDonalds).

But NOW businesses are starting to develop themselves as brands. For example: Starbucks is Starbucks. Technically, they started selling coffee, but it’s not ridiculous for them to also develop and sell, say, board games (Cranium!!) because those products are part of the Starbucks brand, or lifestyle, or . . . State of Being. Ditto “the grocery store”: they opened florist areas, and bakeries, and a deli, and a fish market, and had a space for the Bank of Montreal, and you could essentially do all the errands you had to in that one huge space. Now there are even Starbucks inside urban Safeways. Ditto for Chapters. I mean, what EXACTLY does Walmart sell? It doesn’t have a specific product. It’s a LIFESTYLE, a STATE OF BEING: you go to Walmart. You don’t go to Walmart to get a specific item, like you go to the old-school hardware stores to get a 2×4.

Anyways, that’s what I realized this morning. I probably could have had the epiphany years earlier if I’d taken an single economics or business course at UVic. Maybe that’s the whole point of universities: to present a student with prepackaged Epiphanies For Dummies so we don’t have to figure them out for ourselves. Interesting implications . . .

In Other News: I Am Amazing
Dad helped me get my rabbit-piss-steeped futon mattress off of the balcony and out to the trash, but the garbage people refused to take it away. Bastards. So I was almost resigned to calling a private hauler and paying $40, but THEN while walking home yesterday I realized that there are DUMPSTERS everywhere (aha!) and that if I could get the futon to one of those dumpsters then all would be well. However, Q refused to let the disgusting mattress into his car, and I couldn’t find a handy shopping cart on my walk home, so I convinced the Q to put the mattress on top of the VW and then we could slowly transport it to the closest dumpster.

Quinn has no sense of sneakiness, though, because he refused to turn his headlights off when we were behind the targetted apartment building, AND he even had the radio on pretty loudly. Regardless of his OBVIOUSNESS, we managed to ditch the stinky beast in a dumpster, and sped off without anyone chasing us. If they managed to get his license number, I refuse to accept any responsibility.

And THEN Q went home to watch the finale of Canadian Idol, and I carried the three major sections of the futon couch/bed frame to two different dumpsters — the first one wasn’t big enough and it stuck out so I avoided that for the next two sections.

Oh, and did I mention that I am AMAZING??? My balcony/porch/whatever is now empty except for Seamus & Caramel’s two-storey cage, some milkcrates for their amusement, and two black metal chairs. No straw, no hay, and no pissy futon.

Going to Van Fer a Party – Friday, Sept.16/05
It’s Regan’s birthday sometime around now — maybe even today!!!!!! So Q and Celeste and I are catching the 5pm ferry and spending some quality time in Richmond this weekend. Peter will be upset. He’s been extremely affectionate lately and I think he desperately needs a snuggle and nose-pet.

Yesterday after work I went to Syn with Jessie & Karen and we drank numerous martinis: Cosmopolisyn, Original Syn . . . also I tried their new 4 course entree option, with steak & Caesar salad & mashed taters & veggies & tapas & turtle pie. I could NOT eat it all. Luckily Jessie & Karen are weak for tapas & turtle pie. I felt like I was living in a small town again yesterday. The Chapters staff know me, since I worked there for a month two summers ago & I’m friends with Liv & I was Prof. Trelawny at the Harry Potter Launch Party & because I’m in there almost every day. So I made nice talk with all the salespeople and cashiers, and then at Syn I know the manager & most of the servers (due to being a frequent customer and a vocal feedback-giver). It was like Invermere all over again.

Eye Update
Since I’m sure you’re all very concerned about my health, let me assure you that my eye is a lot better, due to rampant glasses-wearing this week and frequent eye-drop applications. There’s a little bit of red left by the iris, and my eyes seem to get dry quickly when I do wear my contact lenses, but I think an emergency has been avoided. Damn this stuffy office space and hidden asbestos and early morning work hours!! This is NOT conducive to happy eye health.

Giddy About Atomic Vaudeville
Atomic Vaudeville’s theme this month is “The Gayest Show Ever.” We’ve invited Karen to attend for the first time, and us regulars are VERY excited about the possible skits. Also, I don’t have to work on Friday, September 30, so I can stay up late on Thursday and drink my ears off and not worry about 5am alarm clocks. YAYAYAYAYAY!!!!

Loud Keyboard – Saturday, Sept.17/05 – 10:56am
House still asleep after loud Christian campers sleepover last night — us older people recuperating from 3:30am comp. games — going to read a book now.

Apparently Prayer Works – Monday, Sept. 19/05 – 5:56 am
Or I can control the weather. I was walking to work and just as I passed under a bus shelter it started to rain, and I still had 10 minutes or so of open-air walking, and I muttered, Heather-like, “Don’t rain, please don’t rain” because my red umbrella is at work and I forgot my blue umbrella in Q’s car, and it sprinkled for a few blocks and then stopped. I’m like Storm from the X-Men.

How can I do anything that isn’t “Heather-like”????

I was a bad little writer this weekend as far as website updates go, but I got a fair bit of editing & thinking done on my fiction portfolio (for my MFA application). Also, the keyboard at R&R Flowers’s house is noisy (see above) so I wasn’t inclined to write anything when I woke up earlier than everyone else on Saturday. And Sunday we were too busy IKEAing and eating at IHOP. I love IHOP. Never been there before this weekend, but after 1 breakfast and 1 lunch and 1 extremely attractive man paying his bill at the till, I’m an IHOP groupie.

Weekend Run-down
Friday: ferried to Vancouver on the 5pm sailing in the Elite $7 for all-you-can-eat baked goods & hot beverages Quiet People Only Lounge. Nicole Barnett was there — I didn’t tell her about my nightmare wherein she waxed my eyebrows into girly pencil-lines. Ate custard danishes and drank tea and did Suduko puzzles.

Drove to Regan’s. Went to a Ukranian soup kitchen and ate cabbage rolls with Regan, Q, and Sarah from Chilliwack. Scored free drinks from the bartender. Returned to find Ryan & co. were hosting a sleepover for “at-risk” Christian camp pre-teens. We are old and uncool and alcoholics so we drank silently in the den out of coffee cups & watched Jimmy Fallon in Fever Pitch (decent movie). Went to bed; woke up sporadically due to adolescent exhuberance downstairs.

Saturday: I was awake at 10:30 am, unlike everyone else. Pre-teens sprawled everywhere foiled my plan to Suduko on the couch. Showered and took Celeste to the backyard until everyone else woke up. Stole bacon from Christian children’s breakfast buffet. Went to IHOP #1 with Regan, Q, and Sarah. Lusted after sexy man paying at the till. Ate eggs & bacon & sourdough toast. Zombied through shopping mall & Costco for party supplies. Bought brown skirt, excellent necklace @ mall, Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy DVD at Costco. Returned to R&R’s. Napped for 1 hour. Dressed in new stuff, made pizza, tried to be pleasant and not too embarassing with guests.

Sunday: SLEPT REALLY REALLY WELL (due to Wild Vines blackberry “merlot”??) then got up and etc. Went to IHOP & IKEA (in love with both franchises). Ate cheesy philly steak sandwich & onion rings that left a puddle of grease on my plate. Bought random shit, including a patio table to hold my teapot & bamboo blinds to replace the ratty pink things leftover from the last tenant of my suite. Then: the 6pm ferry (crappy Queen of Saanich) and Wendy’s for a burger and home. The bunnies survived the weekend; I have new toys to play with from IKEA; all is well.

Chewing the Fat
I bitched to Q at one point about my sore hand, and he asked what the red marks were, and I said nothing relevant, and he asked if they were bite marks, and I confessed, and he asked when I’d made them, and I said Saturday night, and he scolded me, and I said “but why does my hand hurt?” and he said I’d probably bruised the muscle or something, which makes sense. But I really didn’t think the hurt would last beyond that initial bite, so new thing learned: I can actually damage myself! Whodathunkit! I thought I was like a snake, how they are immune to their own venom. Felt like a wanker as a result.

Oh, and Tupperware
I exploited an exceptional deal courtesy of a TupperWare flyer misprint, and now own a sexy set of FridgeSmart containers. Brenda delivered them on Friday, along with some of the stuff leftover from the play last year — including a lazy Susan (one of those spinning trays) which will be IDEAL for when I have tea. Yay TupperWare!

Jason Lee on TV – Tuesday, Sept.20/05
Ohmigod.

Buying Bouquets & Budgeting
I was gloomy and bored and restless (but in an apathetic way) yesterday. Oh, poor me.

But then I had an “e-conversation” with Old Man John, who seems really great, and I bought myself a huge bouquet of primary-coloured flowers (including those long green things with the bright petals — freesia?? I have no fricking clue) and some smoked salmon (thinking of Dad), and wandered home to set up my new bunny-porch patio set, wash the new TupperWare, and watch my Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy DVD. Basically, I kept busy and didn’t nap. Also, I ate good food. And listened to Ani DiFranco’s “Not a Pretty Girl,” the best song ever.

I am determined to go away this winter to somewhere sunny. But I don’t know how I should pay for it. I have always been impressed with Q’s ability to understand abstract concepts like “annual interest” and “prime + 2.5%” and so I sat down, sorted through six months of paperwork, and deduced the following:

I had three student loans, but paid one off this year. Now I have two student loans, plus one bank loan from my unemployed phase.
In total, I pay three payments per month: $216, $78 and $530.
The “annual interest rates” are “prime + 2.5%” for the first two payments, and “prime + 4.25%” for the third. So that makes sense to pay lots to that last one each month.
Are you bored yet? I am.
My credit cards have annual interest rates of 19% and 18.5%. That’s a lot higher than the loan rates, so therefore it’s good to pay those off every month.

So now I’m “in the know” regarding my finances! Yay! I have no idea what to do with this information. Can I do anything to enable a future vacation?? Change loan holders . . .???? Should I pay everything off and be bored for the three-four years that it will take? Should I say FUCK IT and stop paying my student debt and take that cash and blow it on Ouzo in Greece?

Normally, as you know, I resent advice in any form. In this instance, please feel free to share.

Finally, Some Excitement – Wednesday, Sept.21/05 – 6:29 pm
Work was crazy busy today. One part of my job (about 40%) involves sending out a compilation of ministry-related media coverage twice a day to the ministry’s employees. Usually these packages are about 5 to 10 pages long; today, I sent out three packages, totalling about 70 pages. I love it when it’s busy like this, and I feel like a significant part in the Wheel o’ Communications.

The other day I was checking out this tall guy on the bus, and when he sat down by me and said hi I realized it was Liam, the guy who used to give me free baklava at Eugenes years ago. I gave him my fancy schmancy business card & cell number and told him we should be friends, since I’ve known him longer than almost anyone else in Victoria. So he called me yesterday, and we were going to have tea/whatever today after work, but I worked until 4pm instead of 2pm so I had to cancel. Very disappointing. He’s quite tall.

In other news, either Sister Evy hasn’t had her baby yet, or the family hasn’t bothered to tell me that she has. She’s supposedly due on the 27th, but I suspect that’s just to accomodate Dad’s birthdate.

Tonight Q and I are going to a Rotary Club dinner. Q’s going because he’s a Rotarian; I’m going for the Yorkshire puddings. So I’m all dressed up in some fairly adult clothes, except that this shirt is too short and my belly sticks out when I’m not paying attention. It’ll be gaping after dinner.

And tomorrow will also be busy, I suspect. I hope that I still get Friday off to recuperate from this crazy week, but if it’s this hectic than I might not. Regardless, I intend to FINALLY meet up with Old Man John on Thursday or Friday.

Old Man John
Q says it’s rude of me to call him Old Man John, but he’s new to my story so I’m hoping the epithet will help you remember him. Eventually (if he sticks around) that will change.

The Bunnies
Everyone is extremely happy these days, as far as I can tell. I bought them carrots with tops yesterday, and fresh hay for their litterboxes/fibre intake, and they all have lots of sticks to chew and things to jump onto and space to run around in. My new bamboo blinds are (too) transparent (I’ll have to fix that) so I can see outside during the daytime, and Seamus is always sitting on the rock ledge of the balcony, surveying his bunny kingdom.

Clean Feet – Friday, Sept.23/05 – 1:47 pm
I don’t work today so I was able to sleep in. Around 10am I drank a pot of tea and did Suduko puzzles on the couch, and then I CLEANED MY APARTMENT! I swept, dusted, washed the floors, and even VACUUMED. The quantity of bunny hair dust bunnies (hee hee) was astounding. So now I can walk around in bare feet without picking up a rabbit’s worth of hair! Yay!

Smooching With Old Man John
I met John last night! Finally! We rendezvoused at Serious Coffee at 4:30pm, and walked to the beach, and drank a bottle of white wine (I even liked it) and talked until the sun went down and it got cold. Then we stopped in at the Beagle Pub, and ordered mussels & salad & nachos (the nachos were my contribution) and John had a Guinness.

From now on I will drop the “Old Man” epithet because, depite being 36, John looks about 29-31-ish. (Except that I was doing the math while almost asleep last night, and John must have been born in 1969 or so — eek. That’s a long time ago!!!!!)

John is a very good looking man. And he smiles & laughs a lot. And he’s smart. And my first thought after meeting him was: “Dammit, he’s gay.”

Q says that men know their sexual orientation by age 36, so it’s very very unlikely that John is gay. Also, he wore black socks with brown shoes. HOWEVER, for someone with my experience, even the POSSIBILITY is frightening. First time, shame on you – second time, shame on me – third time . . . ??

I’m trying to think of the “signs” that I recognized, but it’s become more of a feeling. Stereotypical “signs,” like an affection for refurbished furniture, an appreciation of wine, and quality personal grooming, are not reliable signals.

This is a terrible development. How can I explain to an attractive, intelligent man that I’ll be too worried about him being gay to ever properly relax & enjoy a relationship?

Anyhoo. John smooched me at the Beagle and after he walked me home, and that was EXACTLY what I needed. Although I felt guilty, exploiting his smooches when I wasn’t sure of his sexuality. I don’t know.

I’m going to Q’s tonight for a party of our best friends, most of whom I haven’t seen in awhile. That will be fun. And now I’m off to get dressed in Non-Work Clothes (yay!!!!) and get out of this newly-cleaned house.

The Leaves are Falling!!!! – Saturday, Sept.24/05 – 10 am
It’s Autumn!!!!! Dammit!!!!!

Jessie Looks Nothing Like Blossom
Rowan and Q and I had dinner last night at Q’s new place. BBQ steaks and salmon, asparagus, baby potatoes, roasted garlic & French bread, mushrooms . . . a feast. Later in the evening, Justin & Jessie & Spencer came over, and we caught up on all the news, and Spencer taunted me with descriptions of the single, tall men whose hair he cut/styled, and Jessie said: Hey, I look exactly like her! and pointed to this infomercial on TV with an actress who looks like Blossom (remember that ’90’s sitcom?). Apparently Jessie’s self-image issues are more serious than we’d thought.

I don’t know if this is a universal human condition, to have such a distorted self-image. Maybe that’s why no one likes their photographs.

Jessie and I have diagnosed part of her “issue”: her Barbie dolls were always naked, while mine were always clothed. Barbie’s ridiculous dimensions (when naked) were designed to accomodate the thickness of her clothing’s material — they can scale down the human figure into doll scale, but you can’t scale down material. So my Barbies’ bodies looked not much different than the women in real life — or at least, the ones on TV (ha!) — while Jessie’s Barbies just trumpeted: Big Boobs, Skinny Waist, Disproportiate Bodies Are Fun And Beautiful!

As For John
Q says I’ve become paranoid, and that if I screw up this possibility due to an unsubstantiated fear of history repeating itself then he will NEVER AGAIN be sympathetic to my whining re: no available men in Victoria.

Also, I really liked the smooching.

Oh, And Also – Sunday, Sept.25/05 – 10:32 am
I ran into the Crazy Beautiful Man from Starbucks Friday while walking with Celeste on Dallas Road’s doggy route. He has “Bell” tattooed on his very hairy tummy.

More to come later, but I rented High Fidelity and that’s first.

Ughy Day – Sunday, Sept.25/05 – 8:19 pm
I was ridiculously happy this morning, cuddled on my couch watching High Fidelity, drinking tea and listening to Peter terrorize a bundle of sticks under the couch. And then, somewhere between visits to Sears and Canadian Tire, I got icky and grumpy and blahy. Mood swings suck.

Q’s dad and stepmom bought Q a BBQ for a housewarming present. Due to my extensive experience with lego kits during my youth, I am the resident assembler: and it looks wonderful. It required a few strategic hammer-whacks to get everything to fit properly, but I suspect that was intentional — makes the male BBQer feel more manly. It was great for my passive aggressive rage.

Q and I had invited Andrew & his woman Claire over for dinner tonight, but I was so blahy that I could only envision an evening of heavy sighs and self-pity, so we postponed for some other time when I’ll presumably be amusing and perky. I miss Andrew — it will be good to have a bond over wine & salmon sometime soon.

Someone’s in Trouble
Or maybe this is my own fault — feel free to condemn me via the comments feature. John hasn’t called since our smoochie date Thursday, and since I know he left me in a chipper mood I strongly suspect that SOMEONE (Mark!!!) has told him about my website and that he’s read my “Old Man John is Probably Gay” entries and he’s run off.

So, question: was it wrong of me to post those thoughts, considering the mandate of this site? My disclaimer (I always have a disclaimer on hand) is that I NEVER told him about this site. And that I said nice things about him, even considering the emotional baggage I have re: potential love interests being gay. John doesn’t know my epic history of boyfriends/closeted ‘mos, so he’s missing some essential context.

Anyhoo. I feel badly.

High Fidelity
Good movie.

I also rented Alive (filmed in the Purcells near Invermere — my Dad worked on the set up at Panorama) and Coffee & Cigarettes, a token artsy thing. Sometimes I find token artsy things too wordy, but sometimes they also make me think, and I enjoy the subtle touches (e.g. black and white self-commentary in Woody Allen’s Celebrities).

Google.ca
I can track how visitors find my site, and today/yesterday someone from Australia found me by searching on google with: Simone de Beauvoir “Dean Moriarty.”

First thought: what the hell do de Beauvoir (20th century French feminist) and Dean Moriarty (Kerouac’s protagonist in On the Road) have in common??? Other than that they’re both mentioned in my play. I can’t believe someone would search for that.

Second thought: my soulmate lives in Australia. I hope he’s a suitable love match.

Busy Busy Busy – Monday, Sept.26/05 – lunchtime
Whew! It’s crazy busy at work today. I’ve been running around (computer/internet speaking) since 5:45am. Thank god I have a loaf of bread & some food stuff here at work!

In Other News
I have no idea what it’s like outside. It was chilly this morning (7:41am or thereabouts when I ventured out to fetch our daily newspapers). I’m wearing my new ugly green sweater & sexy pinstripe pants today, purchased from Old Navy this weekend. I was very grateful for the sweater, what with the FREEZING BLIZZARD CONDITIONS outside. Or something.

I’m sleepy (as usual) and will appreciate my nap this afternoon. Also, I still have Alive and Coffee and Cigarettes to watch this week.

I’m mainly bothering to update this because John emailed me this morning asking if I wanted to play this week. So I’ve somehow avoided offending him — assuming that he read this site at all . . . to prevent further emergencies, I’ll tell him about my ‘mo paranoia asap. I prefer to have everyone “in the know” about what’s going on with me — otherwise I forget who doesn’t know what and everything gets complicated.

Timely Doubts?
Q suggested that maybe this website isn’t such a clever idea. I’m posting personal information on here, and it would be easy for someone to abuse that insight. My argument, however, is that I don’t really give a shit about what anyone might think of this stuff. We’re practicing for when my work is in bookstores and on stage: I will tell everyone all my secrets, and if I know yours then yours might also come out (indirectly, I hope — I would never intentionally betray any of you). We’re rehearsing a sort of awkward, embarassing honesty. Isn’t this fun?

Holy Fricking Christ – Monday, Sept.26/05 – 7:49 pm
Coffee & Cigarettes is utterly bizarre. Also, I love Tom Waits.

Moment o’ Bliss
I had a pot of Lipton Yellow Bag & sugar & milk & my favourite little tea set, and I had my fleecy sweatpants on, and I was watching a movie.

Is there anyone in this world who could possibly improve that environment with their company? It’s one of my favourite ways to spend time, and I have NEVER met anyone who could make it even more pleasurable.

Drowning Our Sorrows in Sushi
Liv and I are sushi-ing tomorrow! Yay!!!!

And on Thursday we have a HUGE group for Atomic Vaudeville. Regulars so far include: Liv, me, Jessie, Q, Spencer. First-time guests include: Trevor (via Liv), Karen (via Jessie), and maybe John (via me). Fun fun fun fun fun fun fun!

For any of you Victoria readers, you’re welcome to join us, or just go and watch the show. It’s Wednesday and Thursday nights at 1514 Broad Street (the Event Centre). Doors at 7:30pm, show at 8pm, cover is $12 or so. Cash bar . . . the theme this month is “The Gayest Show Ever”!!!!

Wonderfully Sore Legs – Wednesday, Sept.28/05
It’s wonderful because I ran like a crazy thing yesterday. Yay for me! I haven’t run around the block in months — my excuse was the summer heat — and despite being ridiculously out of shape I still managed to run my FULL LOOP, switchbacking around blocks to make the distance longer. I am amazing.

Other Weird Adventures
When getting dressed Tuesday morning I couldn’t figure out how to wear a long blouse thing with my skirt, since the skirt has a belt that gets tied up in the front and there would be a bulge under the blouse from the knot. THEN I realized that I could tuck in the blouse, and it wouldn’t look ridiculously strange because I was wearing another shirt overtop.

Anyhoo, to paraphrase: I (re)invented tucking in shirts. I haven’t tucked in a shirt since I was 15. It was liberating.

And also, after doing a load of laundry (my undies and some work socks) and running around the block and watching the taped episodes of Medium and CSI: Miami from Monday night and eating a Swiss cheese & sprout sandwich I was EXHAUSTED so I went to bed for a nappy nap. At 6:30pm. And then I woke up this morning when my alarm went off at 5:15am.

Belated September 27th Celebrations
If I hadn’t fallen asleep so early, I would have made a pretty, multi-coloured capital letters headline at the top of this page, which would have said:

HAPPY BIRTHDAY DAD!!! HAPPY ANNIVERSARY, MOM & DAD!!!!

But since I fell asleep it’s now only a silly black-font wish. Nonetheless, I was thinking of them yesterday, and I sent Daddy an e-Card with an e-Song, and I wrote some emails to let them know I was thinking of them and loving them long-distance yesterday. So I’m still a good daughter.

I’M AN AUNTY!!! – Friday, Sept.30/05
From Mom and Dad:

Jared and Evy had their baby boy tonight at 9:08pm.
Thus far he is nameless. He is beautiful. Weighs 7 pounds 14 ounces
and is LONG!
from a relieved and happy granny and grandpa
Ginny & Bob

Little Spitfire

July 2005

July 1, 2005 Heather Leave a comment

Canada Day!! – Friday, July 1, 2005 – 11:20 am

And it’s also Pride in Victoria this weekend, so there are SO MANY adventure-potentials!! Celeste was strangely giddy last night at Q’s, so we’ll have to take her a for a good long walk today.

And I still haven’t heard from Shawn, so I’m VERY concerned and contemplating calling the police. Maybe I can get the Q to do a quick drive-by so we can see if he’s home. The weirdest thing about Shawn’s disappearance is that I have no idea who to call. I don’t know his family, and I don’t know Savannah’s phone nymber, so I can’t confirm his OK-ness with anyone else. I might be the only one who knows he’s AWOL, and therefore it’s my responsiblity to track him down!

Cleaning House
My other commitments for today are to take out the garbage (which I hate doing – I’m a germaphobe) and checking on the bunnies. They probably need more water – it was hot out yesterday. And Peter’s litter box has lost its clean-hay-scent.

Health Status
I feel so much better today.

Shawn of the Dead – Saturday, July 2, 2005 – 12:30 pm
Shawn isn’t dead!!! YAY!!! He resurrected after a few panicky phone calls on my part. And one house-visit that found NO blood-trail, body parts, et cetera. Apparently he does go AWOL sometimes. Good to know.

Canada Day Festivities
Q & Celeste & I attended the Drag Queen Baseball Game over in Vic West, and ran into some of our ‘mos: Rich, Cam, and so on. We ate hot dogs and then left. It was crazy — Shawanna Millionaire, the drag queen who (we’d heard) skipped town last summer after defrauding some loving ‘mos of their cash, was there in full wigged glory, doing backflips and cartwheels from base to base. It was too cold, though, so we went to Q’s for a nappy nap.

And then Luke came by and we drove up to see Q’s new home, and then we stopped by Michael’s house and the boys drank rum & sprites, but I didn’t because I’d decided to abstain from alcohol while tattooed. (. . .) And Celeste shat on Michael’s lawn.

Also, while at Michael’s, Shawn called to tell me he was alive and reading a new book. Yay! On the way downtown for dinner we kidnapped him and tried out the food at the Garlic Rose on Wharf, and they were serving a special 1L “boot” of beer, but no one at our table had that. It was odd to have two redheads with us, when normally we have none.

After dinner Q & Luke went to some house party at the Railyards and Shawn & I talked and watched CityTV porn until 3am. When the fireworks came on, we climbed the roof at Q’s and watched all the drunk twinkies milling about on Broad Street, and the fireworks were pretty. Some new fangled ones, I think, with hearts & circles.

Anyhoo, I had a great Canada Day night and I’m really glad Shawn isn’t dead because he’s super.

Oh, and the Laundry
I did all my laundry yesterday at Q’s, and I am SO PLEASED to have a full closet of tubetops & other non-shoulder-rubbing shirts. My tattoo doesn’t hurt at all, and it looks fine, but I’m determined to be a good tattooee and do everything like my tattooer said re: healing.

Dancing Queen – Sunday, July 3, 2005 – 8:58 am
We went to Prism last night, and it was the first time ever I’ve seen a line-up there. Lucky for us, Q’s Rotary & Freemason (shh!) connections tend to negate any “waiting in line” nonsense.

“We,” in this case, include Luke, Spencer, Christine, the Q, and a new boy named “Steve with an E” (??) who apparently came out VERY recently. And I could tell. He was hitting on every boy in sight, and still knew how to dance with a woman. Polka steps, no less.

Also, we saw Cameron (topless, with a few other topless hotties) and Kent, which was funny. I got to introduce him to my boyz and some of the new ones I’d met that night. NEVER underestimate the value of a homo honey. Thank you very much.

The Porch
I finally got around to checking up on the bunnies outside. I’m such a neglectful bunny mom. Anyhoo, I went out and Seamus & Caramel were sitting side by side on the couch, looking like aged rabbits due to excessive seasonal shedding. Caramel escaped, but Seamus (who still, I think retains some memory of being a passive house rabbit) let me pull off some of the fluff. I watered them and swept up a bit, and I didn’t see any flies, which have worried me due to their potential bunny-harming faculties. I bought two fly traps yesterday at Home Depot, and I’m excited about them except that I’m supposed to use raw, rotting meat as bait and that’s fucking disgusting. Also, I have no raw meat in this apt. Also, the smell of raw, rotting meat might displease my bunnies. Sensitive vegans that they are.

Annie Hall
Apparently this is the film that made Woody Allen good. It was all downhill thereafter. I watched the first half yesterday and I love it, but I can see that his neurotic persona is only likeable because it’s new (to the audience at the time) and subsequent neurotic Woody Allens would lead to hatred and scorn. Also, the female-male relationships are fascinating — power imbalances, a rapport that I would see as patronising and emotionally crippling.

Pictures & A Sun Burn – Sunday, July 3, 2005 – 11:21 pm
Have a look at the “pictures” page for a whole bunch of stuff from last weekend . . .

Also, here’s a mouse that Shawn & I saw while GSing a while back.

[2017 note: I can’t find these photos so you’ll just have to imagine them.]

This is a crow, waiting for us to leave so it can eat the mouse.

And here’s Q, multitasking.

[Imagine a photo of Q holding a phone to each ear.]

About the sun burn — I have one. On my nose.

Odd Sleep Patterns – Monday, July 4, 2005 – 10:06 pm
I’ve been coming home, eating, and then sleeping for HOURS, and then I wake up at 8 or 9 pm. Mathematically this should be fine, but I was tired today, so we’ll see how tomorrow is.

Liv’s Hot Young Dentist
After work today I went to the dentist to escort Liv home, post-wisdom-teeth-extraction. She was anaestheticised so I held her arm on the stairs and kept her from wandering into traffic. Brave Liv.

If I have to get my wisdom teeth out, I want to keep the teeth. AND I will warn the dentist not to say “blood clots” to me when I am nauseous, because I might puke. Also, I will “eat” chocolate Boost and pudding.

A Strange Sort of Being Single
I really like this. I get to spend time with a sexy, smart straight man who does his own thing, and I get cuddles and unconditional love from the Q and my ‘mos, and I have two great girl friends to buy things and drink martinis with. Also, I spend my time doing EXACTLY what I want, whether it’s napping or dishes or running or being friendly. The only thing lacking is, of course, sexual gratification, but for now this is pretty damn fine.

Adventures in Budgeting – Tuesday, July 5, 2005
I should know better than to attempt this “budget” thing. Every time I try it, something bizarre happens — last time, a student loan debt appeared out of nowhere and threw me for a $700 loop. Whatever. I can’t live in fear of jinxing my bank balance.

So I figured it out, and I pay $836/month in student loan debt. Yiminy! Yes, it was worth it, but gees, that’s a lot of money. That’s 200 cheap Syn martinis (not including tip or appies). Then I owe a very reasonable $550/month for rent, and this leaves me with a little less than 2 weeks’ pay for food and beverages and bunny hay. Thank god I get paid well.

Bunny Guilt
I peeked in on S&C early this morning and Seamus was sitting on his back feet, which is weird because normally they’re on all fours. So I went out to check on the wee fella, and his front nails were RIDICULOUSLY long, each one practically an inch of curling claw. I felt awful. So I clipped them asap, which of course upset him, but I waited around until he unfroze and started cleaning his paws, so (hopefully) no tramautic side effects. Caramel is probably equally savage, but I needed her to be calm for Seamus so I’m waiting until later today to pedicure her.

Ironically, I refuse to give up my bunnies (S&C) to another home because I know they won’t have it as good anywhere else. They get so much freedom and care from me that a more sheltered life (in a cage — ew!!) would be worse than the occassional broken nail. If I ever thought I’d found a home that would let them be proper house rabbits, I’d let them go, but I doubt that would happen. People are generally rabbit-stupid.

Movies I Wanna See – Tuesday, July 5, 2005 – 8:27 pm
Mr. & Mrs. Smith
Batman Begins
Fantastic Four
Madagascar
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with Johnny Depp!!!!!

Movie I Just Saw
Charlie’s Angels, for the first time with sound. I’ve only ever seen it on an airplane, without earphones. Cameron Diaz is so much fun (for an anorexic)! I want her to play me in my life movie. But she’ll have to grow a belly first. Or at least be a realistic, voluptuous weight, a la The Mask.

I love movies. They’re novels for lazy people.

Finding Oneself Via the Net . . . Again – Wednesday, July 6, 2005
This is from Liv: she’s starch . . . I am water. I’m awesome. Q doesn’t like me very much.

Water
You are water. You’re not really organic; you’re
neither acidic nor basic, yet you’re an acid
and a base at the same time. You’re strong
willed and opinionated, but relaxed and ready
to flow. So while you often feel worthless,
without you, everything would just not work.
People should definitely drink more of you
every day.

Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

There Are Boobies On TV – Wdnesday, July 6, 2005 – 7:20 pm
I’m watching “Cleavage Culture” and it’s fascinating.

HOOTERS GIRL: I’m a feminist. I have a lot of feministic views.

Experimenting With Carbs
Perhaps the only aspect of my government-induced weight gain that displeases me is the back fat. The boobs are fun, my tummy’s nice and squishy, but the back fat is . . . wrong. So Jessie, my Food & Nutrition Guru*, is supporting me in a two week experiment wherein I eat minimal “carbs.” These “carbs” are, apparently, in everything I like to eat: bread, pasta, carrots even . . . But Jessie predicts that a lower-carb, higher-protein & veggie diet will get rid of that goshdarned back fat, without excessive changes to my exercise routine. And I like that.

* About Jessie being my Food & Nutrition Guru: yes, this is funny. It’s a private joke, but . . . to Jessie: ha!

Anyhoo, I tried to eat dinner today and failed. I hid all the “carb” stuff I like in the cupboard: spaghetti, fettuccine, crackers, rye bread (actually I threw that out because rye bread after 2 weeks would be nasty). And I replaced my counter buffet with cans of tuna, tomato soup, and some soup broth powder (the only non-carb items I already have on hand). So for dinner, I chose some cheese (yumyum) and tomato soup. And then I burned the soup.

You know, I remember a time when I made deluxe daily meals: roast beef, yorkshire puddings, steamed veggies . . . and they were great. I had no back fat. And now I burn canned soup.

Whatever. My starting weight, according to Circuit City’s display scale, is 138.2 pounds, with sexy black leather boots on. The experiment begins . . .

Being A Writer
I walked to work and ruminated on my play, which has been perplexing me. So I mentally dismantled the structure, thought “form = content,” made a listy list of options, considered numerology & gospel parallels, and ended up with a useable, meaningful skeleton on which to build my play. YAY!!!!

Ironically, my writing classes were separate from my English Lit classes, and yet it helps so much to work backwards (i.e. from the perspective of a critically-thinking audience) to figure out how to write something.

Example: If I want to have a Virgin Mary / Mary Magdalene paradox, but want to avoid binaries (which are inherently masculine) then I need to have both Marys working TOGETHER, rather than opposed, as in the cliched/traditional devil vs. angel technique. Unity, rather than conflict.

Therefore: Mother Mary and Maggie are instructional forces in Mary’s road trip, not obstacles or distractions.

I sent the reworked first few pages to Nathan, who has commissioned scripts from me & Keith, and he giggled. Via email. And I feel WONDERFUL that I’ve figured out the structure, because now I can just cut-and-paste the dialogue & text & ideas that I have, and whatever new stuff I write will be more focused and have a PURPOSE to fulfill.

And don’t we all like having a purpose?

Does Shake & Bake Have Carbs?? – Thursday, July 7, 2005 – 6:39 pm
It was either BBQ ribs or S&B chicken legs, and I let Q choose, and he chose S&B so I am not responsible. Also, I had a “low carb” bagel + cream cheese after work. But I’ve been carb-free otherwise! Yay me!

AND Q, J & I are trying not to drink any alcohol for ten days (starting a few days ago — the last time I drank anything was Canada Day, actually). And we’ve all kept to this, except that I am currently drinking (or trying to drink) a Diet Coke, since it is the only cold, non-alcoholic beverage here at Q’s, and it tastes SO BAD that I am very tempted to add just a little tiny bit of rum. Tastes like aspartame. Plastic sugar. Ew.

Being Okay That Shawn Has Other Females in His Life
Shawn has an Ontario girlfriend visiting, and I am incredibly jealous. I am not used to having to share my boys with anyone. Spencer loves ME, and ME ALONE (or at least, we pretend). Luke loves ME. Alex loves ME. Every female in the world falls in love with Q, but I know he’s really mine and we will always be each other’s best friend. (I have his momma’s phone number memorized.) So here I am, having to share my new friend. I’ve lost all my ability to be grown up about this.

Actually, that’s not true. I’ve vowed not to let my possessiveness be noticed by Shawn. He’s new, and I don’t want to frighten him. So I’ll just silently writhe. Or writhe over lunch hour with Q and Jessie to roll their eyes at me. And hopefully my skin will toughen up, just like I’ve learned not to groan aloud when Shawn flicks to the sports channel on tv AND WATCHES IT.

Also, My New Play
Here are the first few pages . . . most of the script is already written, I just have to shift stuff around and “fill in the blanks” so that it makes some sort of non-esoteric sense.

[2017 note: maybe someday I’ll post the script to maryMARY here …]

Carbs Shmarbs – Friday, July 8, 2005
This is foolish. For breakfast I wanted my usual Friday special: the steamed eggs with cheddar cheese and sourdough with strawberry jam. But bread is illegal, so I had to choose a carbfree breakfast sidedish to replace it, and therefore: bacon. 4 strips. HOW IS THAT HEALTHIER THAN TOAST????

This whole “being aware of food” thing could really mess a person up. Everything is grams and sugar content. Food should not = numbers!! I’m glad this is only a short term experiment.

Lazy Weekend – Saturday, July 9, 2005 – 10:50 am
I’ve been reading a book Boss Theresa leant me, by Miriam Toews. It’s about Mennonites, and it’s very very good. I might actually be motivated to finish this one.

Last night was a terrible waste of a Hot Heather Day. Sometimes everything comes together and I’m stunningly hot. But if there are no plans, and everyone else is as lame as me, then it’s only appreciated by Peter. So sad. I watched craptv and drank tea, and wished I could think of an adventure that would involve other people appreciating my pretty-phase.

Anyhoo, Q is coming to get me any minute now, and we will carve out some sort of adventure for today. It’s actually sunny . . .

Bad Movie – Sunday, July 10, 2005 – 12:58 am
Fantastic Four is gawdawful. Don’t waste your money. The only good part was the three beautiful men sitting beside me in the theatre.

Wild Horses – Monday, July 11, 2005 – 4:29 pm
That’s it. I’m done.

Stupid stupid men and their stupid stupid secret codes.

For example: Q and the boyz say that men like to be ignored. This is inherently opposed to ME. I do not ignore those I like. No, strange Heather, I actually try to spend time with them and talk with them. I will send love letters and emails if I’m thinking lovey thoughts. I will give presents, because I like to.

What’s wrong with spontaneous acts of love? Isn’t that what men inevitably bitch about — the lack thereof? “She isn’t spontaneous, she won’t fuck me in the kitchen.” Well, fuck you.

And why does everything have to be so dramatic? Whatever happened to:

1. girl meets boy;
2. girl and boy like each other;
3. girl and boy tell each other this;
4. girl and boy fool around.

Aren’t I supposed to be the “game-playing” one??? Isn’t that the female stereotype? Why am I the straight-forward one, and YOU MEN are all so vague and coded? It Is Not That Complicated.

At least get your goddamn stereotypes straight. The next time I hear a movie or man rhetorically ask: “What the hell do women want?” I WILL TELL YOU. And you won’t like it.

Awake For 16.5 Hours – Tuesday, July 12, 2005 – 9:30 pm
I woke up at 5am and was actually awake, not just dreaming of being awake, so I got up and talked to my dad & mom while I walked to work. Liv and I had sushi, and after work Shawn & I went to Swans to drink, and then walked to Fonyo Beach (??) and Shawn threw rocks at a particular spot in the water and I dug through smelly rocks for pretty things. It was sunny.

I feel somewhat more balanced today, which is good. I’m still completely perplexed by TMWWIW/AIL’s letter yesterday, which is an uncrackable combination of raving poetry and furious mania. (Aka good writing that I admire and don’t want to admire because TMWWIA/AIL broke my heart and I don’t know how to feel okay about admiring the writing of someone who broke my heart.)

SHAWN: There’s a soundtrack?

HEATHER: There’s always a soundtrack.

Anyhoo, I’ve resolved to keep breathing and eating and sleeping, and eventually everything will sort itself out.

Ohmigod, I’ve learned patience. When did that happen??????

Correction: I’ve learned the value of APPEARING to have patience, while inside I still get squishy with tummy butterflies and shaky with the DESIRE TO HIT SOMETHING REALLY REALLY HARD.

Because here is what I’d like to be real. And yes, I know this contravenes the advice and warnings I’ve had from EVERY fucking confidante, but I only tell the truth (unless I’m making shit up) so here it is:

I want TMWWIW/AIL to know what he wants. I want him to want me. Because even though he’s crazy and just a baby in the world, I am fairly sorta sane and jaded and I know what I need. Actually, I think I know what most of us need. And that is:

1. to know ourselves (hey, that’s my tattoo, freaky coincidence!);
2. to be okay with ourselves; and
3. to find someone who can love us, even when they know us really well.

Yes, I am embracing my foolish self in unreasonable, unrequited love. Fuck pride, fuck logical choices. It’s awfully hard to find a soulmate and when you do, it’s even harder to let them get away.

Drinking a Cider & Loving It – Wednesday, July 13, 2005 – 7:01 pm
It’s sunny & tanktop-warm outside, and I wore my sexy new “kitten” heels that look kinda like flamenco shoes today. I LOVE SUMMER.

Shawn Is Getting Some, the Bastard
Yesterday on our Big Walk we talked a lot about everything (from critical theory to fucking strangers) and I’ve decided that this is a really sweet situation. I get to be good friends with a smart, sexy, entertaining straight man and I don’t have to deal with all the drama and butterflies of being in love. Shawn’s girlfriend is named Nicole, for the record, and she intends to stay here in Victoria. Oh, the drama!!!! It’s fun watching Shawn squirm: he’s a loner who enjoys his private time, and he’s sharing a small living space with a woman. Hee hee. I would be more supportive and sympathetic, but I’m sleeping alone, and he gets it whenever he wants it (the bastard). So no pity for Shawn.

Tonight
Q is at the gym so Celeste & I are waiting for him to come home and shower, and then we’re meeting the boyz for martinis & dinner.

Word of the Day – Thursday, July 14, 2005
“cacoethes” = kak-oh-EE-theez
an urge to do something inadvisable.

Wonderful Sleepy Afternoon – Thursday, July 14, 2005 – 7:50 pm
After work I had a nappy nap on the hammock on Q’s rooftop. Except for falling asleep while wearing my contact lenses, it was exactly what I needed.

For some reason (stress???) I radiated Inappropriate Anger Management vibes today — I wanted desperately to have a tantrum and scream & pummel strangers on Douglas Street. Pent up sexual energy, I suppose. Whatever. The hammock nap and subsequent, complementary indoor nap on Q’s couch have relaxed me. I don’t even want one of the ciders in the fridge.

And now it’s almost 8pm on Thursday, and there are all kinds of lovely mystery detective shows on soon, and I’ve slept all afternoon so I won’t have to go to bed early and miss them.

Explanation of “Cacoethes”
First off, it’s a brilliant word for me. I have urges to do inadvisable things ALL THE TIME. I like to think it’s a writer thing. Except for when it results in trouble, in which case it’s an Inappropriate Anger Management thing or Christmas Eve Complex thing or Impulse Control Disorder thing, and therefore I should up my daily meds.

Anyhoo. I thought I’d be all proactive and express my fury at Q’s troubles re: being appreciated by his current and potential employers by complaining to The Dude In Charge. So I looked up the head honcho for the Public Service Agency. I happen to know this person through work to some extent, although I’ve never met him . . . moment of pause. But whatever. I was Heather The Proactive, Malcontent Citizen so I emailed this man from my home email account (NOT work — at least I was thinking there) and said B.C. was wasting its homegrown talent by not making an effort to keep my Q in the province, thereby forcing him to apply to Alberta and et cetera.

The man (a gentleman, truly) responded with a nice email and said Q should talk to him.

Unfortunately, when I forwarded this to Q it wasn’t a good thing. Q had seen this man on the way in to work, and he wasn’t happy about the email situation. SO ultimately I put Q in a really awkward position, and embarrassed him, and . . . yep.

Q wrote to the man and apologised, explaining that I get maternal at times and that he would be discussing the appropriateness of what I’d done with me asap. (He actually was impressively diplomatic and articulate — maybe that will get him a sweet job and everything will work out!!!! Ahem.)

Anyhoo. I have a new tattoo idea as a result (if I can think of where I’d put it): caceothes, another Greek term that explains me too well.

To Be Explained Later – Saturday, July 16, 2005 – 1:32 am
Harry Potter launch party at Chapters: I was Professor Trelawney and read tarot cards for pre-teens.

Accomplishment of the week: my fly-traps work and are filled with dead flies. YAY! Now Seamus & Caramel can frolic with minimal risk of fly-borne illness.

Also, I drove Jessie to the ferry. I love driving on the highway, sometimes.

Sunny – Saturday, July 16, 2005 – 11:14 am
Just watched 8 Mile, Eminem’s experiment in postmodern identity. Who are we? Marshall Mathers/Slim Shady/Eminem/Bunny Rabbit/B. Rabbit/Jimmy . . .

EMINEM: I am / whoever you say I am.

He’s fricking genius, that’s what.

Anyhoo, today is the Moss Street Paint In. I always end up with some sort of physical issue after this annual event: sun burn, blisters from ill-advised flip flops . . . but it’s not TOO sunny and I will sunscreen, don a coygirl hat* & wear appropriate footwear. Just one of those occasional measurements of what I’ve learned so far in life.

*”coygirl hat” = a Freudian slip??? I meant cowgirl hat . . . and by that, I mean mainstream alternative Le Chateau weave hat thing.

Speaking of Occasional Measurements
My temporary experiment with carbs has passed. It’s too complicated to pay attention to that sort of thing. Also, I really like bread and bread products. So screw it.

However, I’ve noticed a lessening of belly & other curvy bits, and I think this has to do with the minimal quantity of cider I’ve allowed myself lately. (Yes, mom, you’re right. Again.)

Also, I find that when I pay more attention to NOT drinking cider (or anything), I’m less likely to choose an alcoholic beverage just because it’s handy and cold in the fridge. I’m more inclined to drink water. So that’s healthy. Almost makes up for my recent neglect of the whole “running around the block” thing.

I haven’t gotten around to weighing myself recently, so I can’t really quantify any changes. Maybe sometime this next week.

Belated Birthday Loving
It was Nathan’s birthday yesterday, but I accidentally slept through his celebration. Sorry about that, Nate — I’ll wear the blue knee socks for you on our next lunch date. And maybe you can touch them. Maybe.

Laugh Tracks – Sunday, July 17, 2005 – 5:31 pm
Ever since Annie Hall I’ve been uncomfortable with laugh tracks. Now Q and Luke are watching Everyone Loves Raymond and all I can hear is the canned laughter. It’s so plastic.

Today’s Death March
Q took us to Prior Lake today. We (FINALLY!!) found the nude beach, after five years of searching, but it was more of a dock than a beach and although everyone was naked they were also old and unsexy and WAY too close to each other. I dream of a sandy, sunny beach where I can lie with my boobies exposed, but this was not meant to happen today.

So we went, instead, to the regular-person area and found a not-too-anty slope and Celeste dove into the water because she was so fricking hot. And I’m even more browny now, except, of course, for my goddamn tanfree boobs.

I heard some comedian say that tan lines are like a second-hand textbook: all the good parts have already been highlighted. Haha.

Harry Potter, Book 6
I’ve been reading my new Harry Potter, which was my payment for reading tarot cards as Prof. Trelawney at Chapters’ Harry Potter Launch Party on Friday. It’s so good. The writing isn’t exactly Giller-quality, but the story is twisty and wonderful. I have always suspected that J.K.Rowling sold her soul to the devil; it’s too addictive to just be fiction. More like crack. Wordy crack.

Making Soup – Monday, July 18, 2005 – 5:01 pm
I’m making my famous soup. It’s yummy.

Soup used to be scary and therefore canned, but I overcame that mental barrier about two years ago.

This thought, along with the Love, Actually soundtrack, has put me in a mood to compose:

Ode to Heather’s Exes
I keep souvenirs; my apartment is full of them. (Souvenirs, not exes.)

Nate: cedar box made for me for Christmas, currently holding a never-finished quilt and being used as my coffee table.

Matte: hackysack-making materials, hidden in my craft cupboard. Also, a yellow Starburst wallet that I carried around until it literally fell apart.

Q: everything in my apt, including the futon on the bunnies’ porch, my bed, my mattress, my desk . . . also, my orange/yellow poster that I wanted for YEARS.

Rob: confidence re: making soup from scratch.

Kent: a drawer full of lingerie that I don’t fit into anymore; one of his first ever headshots.

Divyesh: two petri dishes, some chem lab stopper things, and the pretty lights in my washroom.

The Hood – Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Here are the people who have become my nieghbours (aka people I say “Good Morning” to, and who might notice if I suddenly disappeared):
– the short maintenance guy, usually sitting at a table at the Breezeway Cafe;
– Sue & Stephen, the husband/wife owners of the Executive Shop newspaper place;
– the city worker who is always shovelling snow/blowing leaves/watering plants/sweeping/salting the walkways;
– the delivery man at CIBC who I’ve helped through the doors a few times, who is looking for a wife;
– the staff at Rheinland Bakery;
– the friendly older man cashier at the liquor store in Bay Centre;
– the group of senior-aged men who eat breakfast at Caffe Theatro sometimes and tell me I look pretty;
– the blond woman & her partner who own and manage Caffe Theatro and invented a special, non-spicy breakfast pannini to accomodate my sensitive stomache.

For Old Time’s Sake
Levi is performing this weekend!!!

Bonding With Nathan – Tuesday, July 19, 2005 – 3:36 pm
I took Nathan to Azuma for his Birthday sushi. Yummy yummy yumyum.

The strangest thing about Nathan is not the “Susie” work shirt or the occasional hair barrettes: it’s that he doesn’t drink hot drinks. So when we go for sushi and I O.D. on jasmine tea, he lets his cup sit until it’s tepid and then orders a glass of cold water and a Pepsi with ice.

Anyhoo, Nathan is an untapped source of Straight Single Men. He has committed to “hooking me up” with someone I approve of: tall, smart, et cetera. The Fringe Festival begins in August; this is apparently “Hook-Up Season” among the resident artsy people, and so we are planning our attack.

NATHAN: You’ve already got your summer tan. This won’t be hard at all.

Harry Potter: Read It
I will not tell you what happens. But it’s a good book (of course) so read it.

Also: Johnny Depp
I still haven’t seen Charlie & the Chocolate Factory and I really really want to. The most difficult part is choosing who to invite. It must be someone who properly appreciates the screwy beauty of Tim Burton and co.

Wow! 3 Times in One Day! – Tuesday, July 19, 2005 – 10:09 pm
I had a very very very good night tonight.

I wanted an adventure, but no one was home, and then I slept through the 6:45pm show of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, and then it was 7pm and I decided to go downtown to a cafe and write the scene I’d promised myself I’d write today for my new play.

So I walked down and sat at the bar at Serious Coffee on Broad & Yates, and I wrote LIKE A FRICKING FIEND for 2 or so hours. Pages and pages, and lots of clever ideas to fire up the parts I was unsure about.

It’s easy to forget how good this feels. It’s cathartic and satisfying and I feel awake after. Maybe this is a side-effect of doing What I’m Supposed To Be Doing in life. Or maybe it’s because I talk so much and have so much to say, and to focus all that thought on a specific project is empowering. And I can forget about the various obsessions in my life, and just think about words and how to use them.

Whatever. I’m excited about my play. I want to see it produced. And I intend to have it ready to submit to the National Playwriting contest thingy this week.

Johnny Depp + Tim Burton + Roald Dahl = July 20, 2005, 9:38 pm
Oh wow oh wow oh wow. I have never before watched a movie that I would happily watch ALL OVER AGAIN immediately after.

If anyone wants to go see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory I will go with you.

Wow.

And Also
My house smells like bunny pee. I’m waiting for Peter to leave his litter box so that I can clean it.

Lounging in Swimwear – Thursday, July 21, 2005 – 8:25 pm
Today was crazy busy at work. I called every major media outlet in B.C. and tried not to say anything embarrassing to a reporter. (This requires minimal giggling, and I have a bit of a problem controlling that.)

Anyhoo, all is well and the day is done and I have a cider in my system. I’m wearing my brown bikini in the hopes that I’ll pick up enough radiation from the computer screen to erase these horrific tanlines I created while reading Harry Potter, hunched over, in the sunshine on Tuesday. My tummy looks like a zebra’s tummy.

Historic Day For Human Rights
Today Queen Adrienne gave royal assent to the same-sex marriage bill, thereby officially making homophobia illegal. Or something like that. This is a HUGE day for human rights — similar to that wild day in October, 1929, when women were declared “persons.”

For My Stalkers
I’m house- and puppy-sitting for Q this weekend. He’s off to Seattle to party like only a Q can. Celeste and I will give each other manicures and gossip about our crushes. There’s a hot rottie at the dog park who’s been extra eager to sniff her ass . . .

If anyone feels like sunning on the rooftop this weekend, give me a call. (I can’t hear the buzzer from inside.)

Also, it’s Luminara this weekend — on Saturday, I think — and I’m trying to decide:
1. if I want to brave the crowds and go;
2. who I’d want to go with.

Luminara has so much romantic potential! The park is completely dark except for the lanterns, and you can snuggle in the trees. The last time I went was with Rob and his unacknowledged-crush-but-definitely-mood-ruining friend Dylan. It wasn’t the romantic adventure I’d expected.

And One Last Thing About Romance, Et Cetera
I was browsing blogs (during a break – ahem) at work today, and stumbled onto this guy named Roger who has recently fallen into mad puppy love with a girl. He’s so open about his excitement and affection for her that MY FAITH IN (STRAIGHT-) MANKIND HAS BEEN RENEWED. Maybe all straight men AREN’T passive, reserved, and ultimately disappointing. Maybe it’s possible to find someone who will not only adore me, but TELL me that he adores me.

What a crazy thought.

Waking Up to Doggy Kisses – Saturday, July 23, 2005 – 8:27 am
The seagulls are very loud outside. I left the window open for temperature control and I dreamed of being beachside all night.

The Most Disgusting Thing Ever
My landlord, Ian, called the other day to say the house I live in has developed a “rat problem,” in that a rat was spotted in the house the other day.

First thought: Maybe it was Peter?

Second thought: It’s the fault of your hippy children, who leave the doors open all the time.

Ian asked me to lock up the bunny food and be extra attentive to the litterboxes on the porch.

Anyhoo, I went to feed the bunnies after work and there was a chewhole in their foodbag, which is kept up high so they can’t possibly reach it. The I looked around my pile o’ bunny stuff and found a whole bunch of non-bunny shit in one of the open containers. New thing learned: rat shit looks like extra long tictacs.

So I feel silly, being all defensive (in my head, not aloud to Ian, thank god). Jessie suggested that the presence of a rat might explain some unusual midnight stomping a few weeks back. I wonder how Seamus & Caramel (would) feel about a rat: they share the same rodent species, after all. I wonder if they can communicate.

SEAMUS TO CARAMEL: EEEK!! There’s a beasty out there!

CARAMEL TO RAT: Fuck off, rat.

My proactive plan is to set a trap up on the counter where I (used to) store the food. The bunnies can’t get up there, so any rodent I catch is fair game.

Ew.

My New Play
It’s done! Or at least, done enough to submit to the contest thingy. I have everything ready to be mailed today.

Deadlines are so helpful.

Man-Friends Suck – Saturday, July 23, 2005 – 6:23 pm
Shawn and I were SUPPOSED to walk Celeste today and take her for a swim in the Georgia Strait and clean up his resume for an excellent job that I found for him.

Not only did we not get to go on our walk and bond, but ALSO he didn’t call to explain his absence until 6pm, and we can’t even reschedule for tonight because he’s going to Luminara (which I told him about, by the way) for a romantic night with his girlfriend.

Dink.

Man-friends suck.

Except for the Q, who is away right now so he can’t comfort me and tell me that I’m better off without man-friend dinks in my life.

Man-Friends Suck, Part II – Saturday, July 23, 2005 – 7:09 pm
I’ve returned from Hollywood Tonight, armed with The Terminal and Be Cool. Also, self-analysis (and some adventures on Yates Street) has revealed the following:

The part that pisses me off the most re: straight manfriends is that I get so much attention from male strangers, and yet the guys I make friends with treat me like smelly pooh.

Well, not that badly. But definitely not as well as I’d like to be treated. Q says I “clean up nice,” and I do. So where the hell is the line between “little hottie I want to fuck” and “some chick I spend time with when I’m not busy”??? Is there a happy middle-ground of common courtesy???????

A Surprising Twist of Fate – Sunday, July 24, 2005 – 12:17 am
Be Cool was great and The Terminal was boring & stupid. Who’da thunkit?

Weird People Posting Comments
I don’t think I know anyone who knows that language that’s on the comments thingy. I have no idea what it says.

Possibility 1: This is the best site ever! You are wonderful and I will buy your novel when you one day write it.

Possibility 2: Self-indulgent, poorly spelled bullshit.

Possibility 3: Haha, you probably can’t read this comment and don’t know what I’m saying. Writhe!

Also, “Anonymous”??? It takes more time (and effort) to type “Anonymous” correctly than any name I know. (Chicken shit.)

[2017 note: my original Little Spitfire blog was built in the olden days of blogging: we didn’t have Akismet or fancy pants comments/spam plugins back then. I used a then-state-of-the-art line of code to enable comments on my site. I can’t remember if I was able to edit/delete/not-approve posted comments.]

The Perfect Life – Sunday, July 24, 2005 – 3:38 pm
Key ingredient: sunshine.

THEN, combine with a comfortable couch, a fridge full of Chinese leftovers from The Forum, a six-pack of raspberry cider, two bottles of faux vino, and a hammock in the sun.

ALSO, some means of writing, be it computer or pen & paper.

ALSO, access to 50% familiar music (i.e. Eminem) and 50% unfamiliar but decent music, aka Quinn’s iTunes.

Some Interesting Visuals to Contemplate While You Consider This Miracle Recipe For Happiness
Some guy over in the UK (I used to think that meant “Ukraine” . . .) does chalk-drawings on the sidewalk that look 3-D. Yiminy.

I’ve Been Dissed By the Media!!!!!! – Monday, July 25, 2005
This is so nifty. The following is an excerpt from a political column in the Times Colonist this weekend (remember last week, when I had to make media calls??):

“The Liberal government, which is usually so conscientious about sending e-mails to media outlets, didn’t issue a bulletin to alert reporters ahead of time about the press conference.
Instead, a ministry flak made calls to select reporters, leaving a number of press gallery members in the dark.”

“Ministry flak”!!!!! Ha!!!

Adventures of a Ministry Flak – July 25, 2005 – 6:14 pm
I realised this morning, while typing, that I forgot to paint one of my fingernails with pretty shell-colour nailpolish last night.

Also, it is ridiculously beautiful outside so I want to go walk Celeste in the sunshine. I’m waiting patiently for Q to have a 30 minute nap, and then I’m going to make him come for a walk with us.

Updates on Love, Et Cetera
There is nothing exciting to report. I guess that’s what happens when I spend all my time with rabbits, gay men, and a Non-Romantic Life Partner (aka “the Q”).

However, I did have an epiphany today, while looking at the pictures of pretty men in the sports pages of a newspaper. It is as follows:

– the men in the sports pages are about the same age as me.
– they are very busy playing sports and doing sports interviews and otherwise furthering their sports careers.
– they are very busy becoming successful at what they love to do, and therefore probably don’t exactly give a shit about falling in love, having babies, meeting their soulmate, blah blah blah.
THEREFORE
why the hell am I thinking about love and et cetera when I should be working at being successful as a playwright/writer? Now (my 20’s) is when I should be writing and working my ass off to make a lovely life for myself as a Playwright/Writer.

I think this might be one of those “women are conditioned to nest” issues. But screw that, I’m an educated feminist with some rather neato skills. My focus has been corrupted by thoughts of nooky & flowers.

It remains to be seen if my life perspective begins to reflect this new understanding, or if I continue to lust/obsess over pretty, smart men.

Heather For Dummies – Tuesday, July 26, 2005
First, let me update: Shawn and I are being nice to each other again, because he:
1. apologized for his dink-like actions; and
2. asked me to stop being mad at him.

However, I think (for future reference, and for those with whom I have not yet been pissy) that I will explain my pissy/forgiveness Code o’ Conduct.

I have the emotional retention of a sock. THIS MEANS THAT I can only stay mad/happy/contemplative/whatever for a limited amount of time before my brain/heart/whatever wanders on to some new thought/feeling. It generally works like this:

Interest in a particular topic = 10-15 minutes
Pissy rage = 1-3 days
Moments of Lust = 0.5-30 minutes
Love = 1 day-until I forget about you or fall in love with someone/thing else.

My Non-Romantic Life Partner Q knows this from experience, so if he makes me angry he just waits a few minutes/days, then calls and invites me for a dogwalk or dinner or something and he knows I’ll have forgotten that I’m mad at him.

That said, the only emotive instinct that is PERMANENT with me is whether someone is a “good person.” If you are cruel, sexist, or don’t stand up for someone when you should, then you suck and I won’t forget it.

Charlie II – Tuesday, July 26, 2005 – 10:19 pm
Q and I saw Charlie & the Chocolate Factory tonight! It was my second time. It is so good. Still.

Busy Crazy Work Day
I worked straight through from 6:45 am – 4:30 pm. We were very busy — we didn’t even take lunch breaks, we just ordered in pizza and everyone who saw the pizza being delivered thought we were a bunch of slackass party animals when in truth some of us didn’t leave our cubicles all day. Over-worked, fairly-paid . . . it could be worse!

I love my job.

Sexy New Hair – Wednesday, July 27, 2005 – 6:08 pm
Spencer did my hair today after work! It’s blonder and my roots are gone and it’s short again. YAY!!!

In Other YAY!!! News
We have a big table for tomorrow night’s Atomic Vaudeville show: Spencer, Jessie, Nathan, Q, Justin, Jessica, Christine . . . we are all very excited. And now I have pretty hair too.

Also, I’m working on a new script. It’s crazy how one idea comes right after another one is done. This new one is a love story, and it will incorporate the wee scripts I’ve shown you here in the past few months, with some extensive elaboration and character/plot development. It feels very good to have something to work on like this . . . longterm, creative, and all mine. I’ll post bits as they emerge . . .

Where 4 Art My Motivation?
I need to clean this apartment. Peter is shedding and there are dust bunnies everywhere. However, cleaning just isn’t that much fun. Especially when it’s sunny outside. Schmew.

Confession of Unapologetic Vanity – July 28, 2005
I was walking to work someday last week and suddenly noticed that all the commuters driving by were staring at me. It was flattering, and very very uncomfortable. I walked a little more sexily.

Then it got weird. EVERYONE was staring, including women in minivans, and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Everything was tucked in properly, and the drivers were too far away to notice boogers or anything . . . so finally I turned around to make sure they weren’t staring at some monster behind me, and then I noticed that at 6:30 a.m. the sun is directly in line with the road, and so the drivers were looking to the side so as to avoid the glare of the sun.

It was kind of disappointing.

And yes, I am a gomer.

Hungover For a Weekend o’ Sin – Friday, July 29, 2005
Not exactly hungover — I just feel a little queasy. I need to eat something. I remembered this morning that we’re going to Vancouver this weekend for FUN FUN FUN at Pride, and I was immediately relieved that I hadn’t thought of that last night because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep as well as I did. Excitement and whatnot.

So last night I fought a clown on stage. Last month, I made out with Spiderman. Atomic Vaudeville is so weird. Q was very brave and when Flora made him go onstage he did it with grace. She tied sheet music to his head and made him kneel, facing the audience, while she played a standup bass. The funniest part wasn’t her creepy lullabye, but Q’s facial expressions. I thought he was going to kill me for making him come.

Anyhoo, it was as crazy fun as ever and there are still two more shows, so if you want to go then do. Doors open at 7:30pm Friday & Saturday night, 1415 Broad Street in Victoria. Me & my troupe, meanwhile, will be enroute to a drunken sin binge in Vancouver.

Confession of Regret & Moment of Weakness
I admit, I’m terribly disappointed that my RockStar doesn’t love me anymore. Especially since I’m going to Vancouver this weekend and it would have been a perfect smoochie-rendezvous situation.

Q assures me that there will be many many beautiful men around us this weekend, and I know that’s true, but they will be gay so that’s not as comforting as it could be. Also, Spencer will be there and that will be lotsa fun, and we’re bringing Celeste because we can’t find a puppy sitter, so I’ll have her to snuggle with at the hotel.

Anyhoo.

Quote of the Night
It was something about pedophilia . . . I can’t remember. Really must write these things down . . .

Heather McLeod

Tag Archives: Celeste

September 2005

July 2005

Heather McLeod is a mystery writer based in British Columbia, Canada.