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Little Spitfire

April 2005

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Loose Ends Get Tied – April 2, 2005, 12:16 am

It’s been a busy week, what with writing love letters to Ryan and drinking martinis & so on. For example.

Quote of the Week 
JESSIE: I can’t believe it’s 2005. That’s when Tylenol expires.

Namaste
Wednesday is Healthy Hell Day, because that’s when Q and I torture ourselves with a sweaty yoga class instead of the usual after-work alcohol and nappy naps. We learned a bunch of new poses this week, two of which I actually enjoyed.

The first is like playing leap frog – you sit back on your feet, knees raised to shoulders, and place your hands (like you’re praying) between your knees. Strangely comforting. Made me think of froggies, and therefore Kermit, with whom I have ALWAYS been in love. Warm rush.

The second pose is standing up with legs spread eagled, knees slightly bent, hands on hips and chin up. I feel very Amazon-warrior-esque with this one.

 

Genital Herpes
My favourite commercials of all time. They’re all so chipper and positive – AND THEY HAVE GENITAL HERPES!!!! ew. It’s surreal – I kept expecting a laughtrack, like it’s an SNL/Air Farce skit or something.

Family Bondage
My momma and dadders are coming to visit!!!!! They’ve been lured by the Tall Ships Festival here in Victoria – Daddy really loves his boats.

I was mapping out my “vacation days” for the next few months, and I have a lot of nifty keen adventures coming up, including a few days in Nelson and a massage/pamper-fest on my birthday (APRIL 12, for those who want to mark it on their calendars — I’ll be TWENTY-FIVE, or as Daddy says, 1/3 of the way to death.

April Fools Day
I called my momma when she was still sleepy this morning and told her that Q and I were buying a house together because we make so much goddamn money. Q might be my Non-Romantic Life Partner (NRLP) but we are NOT good roomies, and my momma knows this, but she bought it — I knew it was exactly the sort of I Don’t Understand Heather Anymore Now That She’s A City Girl decision that she’d be too confused by to doubt – and voila! Despite knowing better, she believed me. I’m so funny.

MOM: Have you really thought this through?

And More On Atomic Vaudeville
I LOVE their cabaret shows. The next one is Episode 11: David Lynch, and I can’t remember who the hell that is although I know we studied him in my movie class. Mulholland Drive . . . and ?

Monthly attendance is a handy way to stay in touch with the theatre folks in town – Britt Small the Director, Gina MacIntosh the Actress (and Valentine Pilate from my play last summer), et cetera.

Movie I Just Saw & First Impressions
Q wanted to see Downfall or something – about Hitler’s last few days. I pointed out that we’d been working hard all week and the last thing we/I needed was a movie about Hitler.

So we saw Hitch. I love Will Smith (not as much as Johnny Depp but whatever), mainly because of Six Degrees of Seperation which has innoculated me ever since to Wild West and his other “feel good” movies. I like the occasional stupid movie, and (despite Will Smith’s charisma and the cast of uber-attractive actors) this was one. The plot is GOD AWFUL. But it was fun and I smiled a few times. Maybe laughed, I don’t really remember. That’s the point of stupid movies on Friday night.

Just for the hell of it, here are some of the movies I like enough to see more than once:
Kevin Smith’s everything (although Chasing Amy is painful in parts, and I love Mallrats even though apparently no one else in the whole world does); Fear & Loathing in Las Vegas; Chicago (which I only saw recently and it made me want to be a singer/dancer/broadway musical star); The Hours; Memento; The Princess Bride; Reality Bites (Ben Stiller’s one great work of art); and the newer version of Hamlet with Ethan Hawk. I spent that whole movie staring at Julia Stiles, thinking how she was the most beautiful woman/girl ever and how I wouldn’t mind being her, if I couldn’t be me.

Fin (as in “done”) 
I’m FULL of words today – pent up from the week, I think. I’ll continue tomorrow/later today.

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Watching The Incredibles – April 2, 2005, 11:56 pm 
It’s reassuring to know that there are other superheroes in the world.

Kryptonite
the back of my neck – the smell of cut grass – when a manvoice cracks – Kermit singing – yellow – Kerouac, reading – hot showers – sunshine – a bass voice – tall men – Louis Armstrong – Tom Waits – chocolate pudding with “scotch bonnets” (whatever the hell that is) – Skipper & Kevin (Barbie’s teen sister et al) – swing – Eminem – Seamus’s fur – lemon cheesecake with bits o’ rind – Buddy Holly glasses – eyebrows

Commentary on DVD
I have yet to understand the purpose of Director’s commentary, out-takes, alternate scenes, etc. THERE IS A REASON THEY WERE DELETED. I don’t like my “temporary suspension of reality” being tampered with; I don’t appreciate some self-important movie snot telling me what to think. The ONLY enjoyable “bonus” on any movie I’ve seen were “out-takes” of Monster’s Inc. Meta-fiction: the only justification.

When I Grow Up
I want to have a bunch of comfy lawn furniture outside and invite friends & family over every Sunday to have tea.

“Growing Up” will be achieved once my student loan is paid off and I decide where I want to live. I’m trapped here in Victoria for another year or two by a Dream Job, but I don’t expect that I’ll live here as a Grown Up. Nelson, maybe? I’ve never been there, but it sounds like a healthy mix of arts + viable work opportunities, Victoria + Invermere. Q wants me to move to Vancouver with him sometime, but Vancouver scares me – it’s so big! The only neighbourhood I feel comfortable in (so far) is Davie’s Street (the gay village), and we all know how ruinous that would be for me.

Speaking of Which
When in Richmond, Q and I heard KENT KAREMAKER on the radio!!!!!!!! It was so weird. I think it was the Duncan station (Sun FM?) but to hear his news broadcast in Vancouver made me so proud of him! He sounds very professional.

Birthday Plans, Thus Far
I don’t work on the 12th or 13th (vacation days – yay!), so I will sleep in and drink tea, snuggle with bunnies, and revel in being 25. Also, my present to myself this year is a spa day – massage, etc. Jessie and I are going for MAC makeovers (our second ever – the last time, I had whore-Barbie eyes for two days after). Our big birthday dinner is on Saturday, to accomodate drinking and guest attendance. I have seats for eight (including me) for a 3-course dinner, and guests so far include: Q, Jessie, Justin, Liv, and hopefully Spencer. I’m trying to get Q to invite Regan and Ryan over (as my “surprise” birthday gift – a sexy tall artist man with a big red bow on his head!). Q says that crosses the line: he’ll take me grocery shopping and lend me his car, but delivering snuggle-partners is wrong. He’s so moral!

After dinner, we might go to Upstairs or Prism. Or play games and bond at Q’s? I like being the Superstar of the Night – everyone has to do whatever I want!

It’s all my parents’ fault. They gave us excellent birthdays. (Balloon chairs . . .)

Confession to Inappropriate Anger Management
Peter is chewing on the wood trim again. This is a heritage house – I usually stop him, and give him something appropriate to play with, but the fuckers below me (including the landlord’s son) are having another loud scream-fest so screw it. Chew, bunny! Chew!

On another note (although I think this relates to the passive-agressive symptoms of my anxiety disorder) I sometimes get sudden strong urges to swear around small children. An interesting mental-health development.

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Mike Bullard – April 3, 2005
He is such an ass.

Recent Additions to My Movie Collection
Moulin Rouge (another inspiration for my Broadway career) and Six Degrees of Separation.

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Writing to Ryan – April 3, 2005
After Levi MacDougall, I can never have a worse penpal. While I was magically able to continue my one-sided relationship with Levi for a good eight months, it sure takes a lot of energy to sustain that sort of unreciprocated attention.

Ryan, on the other hand, gives me just enough positive feedback that I don’t get bored or worried that I’m “crossing the line” (where the hell is this line? What does it look like?). Victoria has transformed me into a Huntress, and while I like the confidence and finesse involved in being an Actively Single Woman, I get tired of choosing the wrong huntees. It makes me happy to have someone to write letters to and love, even long-distance.

So thanks for that

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Monday Monday – April 4, 2005
Q and I just watched The Final Cut, with Robin Williams. I like it; Q thinks it’s stupid. Also, my laundry is almost done. So that’s great.

Oh, and I saw The Forgotten after work (Julianne Moore) and that was okay but it got all weird and extraterrestrial and uber-dramatic at the end.

Birthday Plans, Thus Far
Jessie and I are getting MAC makeovers for before my B-Day dinner. They weren’t going to let us – fully booked, some lame excuse like that, but I stomped my foot and said “It’s my birthday!” and so now we have appointments.

On my actual birthday-day I am going to the spa courtesy of my Non-Romantic Life Partner Q . . . he’s a superstar and I am excited.

A Word From Q 
Ugh.

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Crazy – April 4, 2004, 8:36pm
I need to grow up.

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Confessions of Excessive Napping – April 5, 2005
I was home at 3 or so today, and made my bed with flannel sheets (yummy) and slept until 8pm. LOVELY.

Intervention, Episode #?
I still find these people obnoxious. One of the interventees today is especially grating – he’s a gambling addict and actively blames his parents for everything, including:

– his ruined relationship with his extended family (because his parents have “made it so that he can’t borrow money from any of them”);

– his personal debt ($200,000), because he lived a “sheltered” life and was susceptible to addiction (he doesn’t include the $80,000 debt his parents carry for him);

– trying to make him feel grateful for their financial help with his debts, because “it’s just a drop in the bucket.”

INTERVENTEE: It’s my personal view that when you have kids, you are responsible for them their entire life.

Oh gees.

Birthday Complications
My silly goober NRLP Q remembered that he’s flying to Vernon on the 15th for a wedding. Stupid wedding! Stupid forgetting!! This screws up my dinner plans, since I HAVE to have my Non-Romantic Life Partner there at my birthday dinner.

So I think what we’ll do is replace my dinner night with two (or more!) events: a dinner a week later, and a night with the girls at the strippers 🙂 I first saw male strippers on my twenty-first birthday. A bunch of icky short men with amazing aerobatic abilities . . . it is SO MUCH FUN. A great study in human nature.

Moment of Love for Celeste the Maltese Terrier
Celeste is sick. Fever, shivering, little bit o’ puke. Let’s take a breath and love her.

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How Can So Much Be Done In a Day?? – April 6, 2005
Maybe leftover guilt tendencies from university or eldest child perfectionism or plain mad drive — there is so much to be done and created and read and watched and thought about — and sometimes it feels like there will never be enough of me to take it all in, process, regurgitate back into pretty, (un)palateable translation.

And then sometimes I see someone else who feels the same, and I watch them capture every butterfly and whack every mole, and they still keep running around – and I think how amazing it is that great things are accomplished every day when so many others just sit and watch Maury Pauvich or sleep or drink or ride their comfy rut home to their beer or drug or nap. (Not that I don’t also revel in my cold cider and sleep too much.)

An active life burns out the liver (hee hee) quickly – mental health issues because we take in so much shit from the world, because we spend so much time inside our own heads ruminating and having epiphanies and translating and being sad at all the sad things in the world. One drug might be chemical; another might be to stop thinking, stop interacting, settle into an automatic existence. I’ve been told too many times that life is happy + sad . . . life is also numb + open . . . and that means thinking about why a movie makes you feel lonely at the end, and why country songs make you cry, and why it’s so crazy beautiful to see a blue sky after four months of clouds.

Limited Empathy Capability
And then again, all these thoughts and hypotheses on mental health and I am limited – I still doubt that I am medicated for a “health” reason, that it’s me that limits me. What about those with no control? I have never had that discussion . . . everyone I’ve talked to with crazy-issues is reacting to something else. No genetics, no purely chemical innate shit. I want to have that discussion.

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Writing to Ryan – April 6, 2005
Made a CD today – hope it works – or three:
1. Kerouac
2. Kerouac
3. Ani DiFranco (because . . .)

It is doable to combine music + poetry/writing on a disc. Even Eminem does it. Ani is the pinnacle of Finesse.

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Ani DiFranco is Really Great – April 7, 2005 
I always forget how much Ani makes me happy, and then I accidentally hear a song and it’s Love At First Sight all over again.

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX!!!! – April 8, 2005
Happy Birthday Alex!!! (Because you live in Ottawa and it’s already April 9th over there . . .) Wish I could be there to spank your sexy ass . . .

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALEX!!! – April 9, 2005
21 . . . ah yes, I remember 21.

Actually, I don’t 🙂

INCREDIBLY EXCITING NEWS OHMIGOD
I have never liked this bulky web address, so I now have a new one. (!!!!) It’s already sort of working, but I used older pages to test it, so give me some time and we’ll start using that new site.

Address: www.littlespitfire.ca

Isn’t that BRILLIANT???? I feel so web-sexy. Also, there is LOTS of space on this site, so I can post way more photos, archives, etc. If I can figure out how to make a pretty slide show, I will do that . . .

Random News From the Front
So much has happened lately, and I never seem to have time to write it down here. Anyhoo, let’s get started:

I waxed my armpit last night. Yep. I always wanted to try it – how convenient would that be?! No shaving armpits for weeks on end! So I experimented with my left one, and results include: ouch! also, not all the pit hair was gone – about 1/4 was waxed off. I suspect smaller strips would do the job, but that’s a lot more agony to undergo. It was achy until I fell asleep, but I can’t feel it this morning. No redness or weird bumps, etc. I shall report back later with any developments.

Q’s momma is visiting. Perhaps Suzanne was lured by her love for her son, perhaps by the World’s Curling event . . . regardless of motivation, we’ve enjoyed some special dinners, at Moxie’s and the Forum (best Chinese food in town). Today Suzanne has a hair appointment with our beloved gay Mormon stylist, Spencer. They keep wanting to spend time with me, and I’m busy emotionally and spiritually preparing myself for my 25th Birthday, so it’s difficult to navigate. But how lovely to have someone (in addition to Celeste) to assist with the Daily Attention Requirements of my darling Petunia, Q!

As for the bunnies, Peter slept at my feet last night. I love it when he does that – it’s as if I have a real house pet, instead of a demanding, dependent roommate. Also, my hair is intact this morning, and there are no displaced poops to report, so everything is perfect. He’s currently gobbling his food . . . there must be crack or sugar in those pellets.

Caramel & Seamus need their water bottles refilled today, and perhaps I’ll clear some more of their winter straw. They seem fairly content these days. I’m looking forward to the sunny weather so we can all play together on the porch.

Oh, I almost forgot!

Heather & Higher Education
I am going to get my MFA in Creative Writing. Well, I’m going to apply to get my MFA in Creative Writing. UBC just started a new “Low Residency” MFA program, which will only require my physical presence in Vancouver for 10 days each summer. The rest of the year I can wander around or work or whatever, as long as I have a decent computer hookup. This means that I will be able to AFFORD my MFA! Wow, what an idea! No debt?!

For those who don’t know, a Masters in Fine Arts (Creative Writing) is not exactly a career-advancing move. Either I will be a Great Writer or I won’t. But the work that a Masters requires will motivate me to write complete stories/plays/novels etc, and it will inspire me to WANT to be a Great Writer. The thesis I have to write at the end is not the usual 300,000 word essay on molecular Shakespearean intergovernmental trade, as it is for most disciplines. I get to write a novel or short story collection or play. So there.

I apply with my portfolio in December . . . until then I will write more pieces to submit, and build on my publication credits, and maybe produce another play. Also, I will feel like a SuperStar for not selling out to my generous government paycheck. It’s odd, how comforting it is to have this next goal in mind. At 25, I’ve done the checklist of highschool, university, having long-term relationships, developing life long friends, living alone, having a Grown Up Job, blah blah blah. The only thing left (in my eldest child mind) was to fall in love, get married, and have babies (not necessarily in that order). But we can’t control those things, and this MAKES ME CRAZY. So grad school is a neat, safe little addition to my Life’s To-Do List. And I can control it. Sort of.

(This is not to say that I am not in love. But my love lives in Richmond and has his own Adventures to survive, so I’ve got some time to kill.)

On Love
I am tired of being the active one in my love relationships. Where’s the happy compromise between “stalking” and “participating in a mutually-affectionate relationship”? The men who approach me are, necessarily, Victoria men. This means that they are NOT for me (i.e. short, pale, slightly inbred in appearance). The rare Non-Victoria men are transient and therefore only to be found in transient locations, like UVic.

This dilemma explains my interest in Far-Away men (i.e. Toronto, Richmond). But unless they are motivated penpals, there’s really no reciprocation, and that’s just frustrating.

Yes, I have to move. But I’m not ready to move: I still have student loans to pay off, and my work is Victoria-based work.

Meanwhile, Let’s Self-Medicate with Movies!
I started Moulin Rouge last night, for the second time . . . I LOVE this movie. I think I’ll watch some more now.

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A Word Regarding Joel Kroeker – April 10, 2005, 7:04am
I saw him as the opening act for Hawksley Workman sometime last year, and he was the best part of my night. And he’s short. (!)

He sang Hallejula and it was the most amazing moment – oftentimes, like this morning, I want that song and it’s not on my Joel Kroeker cd and I can’t find it on iTunes and I’m terrified of kazaa et al, so I must live without.

Story: Joel Kroeker, when introducing the song, said he’d had a very scary, important moment in his life and that Hallejula helped him through it. After the show, when Hawksley was finally out of costume changes, Joel Kroeker was by the exit and I asked if I could hug him. He was the most beautiful person I’d ever met, you see, and he seemed so sad. I hugged him and asked him what the moment was, and in true Out Of The Blue Straight-Forward Fuck Reality style he said he was going to kill himself but that song stopped him.

Moment of sadness for a world without Joel Kroeker.

I want to tell him that he can call me anytime he feels sad and I will explain to him that he makes this world more beautiful and we need him in it.

Current Status Report
Dunno if I’m still drunk or just tired. No matter when I go to bed I always wake up early, thanks to work hours. Also, last night I did Celebrate Goodbye Age 24 thing and intentionally didn’t eat before going out to the comedy show. Thusly, 3 pear ciders and I was looped. Moments like watching Punch Drunk Love occured and I’m still not sure if time stayed linear last night. Causality? Pshaw. Regardless, my head is heavy and I’m cold. I think the temperature is due to FREEZING GODDAMN APARTMENT oh and I left the window open last night. I should go close that mo’fo.

Comedy Show
The jiff martin comedy show with special guests atomic vaudeville and Spilt Milk improv was my excuse for drinking and loving last night. Lovely lovely feel good evening: Q and Spencer and Jessie, Justin, Jessica, theatre people, and others. Technically it was a fundraiser for Open Doors (for Victoria folks in need) but in reality it was a drunken fest and near-brawl. (Not really, just like the word “brawl.”)

Atomic Vaudeville showed off some of their best stuff: The One Man the Matrix, the Vaghina Monopause, Thriller, and probably some other things. The Matrix wasn’t as amazing as last time because they didn’t use cool pictures to represent the Multiple Mr. Smiths, but still it was hi-larious. (Flashbacks to drunken reenactment of skit with Jessie at Q’s Bring Your Own Stranger party . . . in skirts, nonetheless.)

Anyhoo so then Jessie & Justin went home because Justin was being difficult and wanted Jessie to drive him to the ferry Sunday morning at 7am. Silly Justin. We went to the Joint and I ate two slices of old pepperoni pizza. And Jessica wandered over to Darcy’s and Q & I . . . I think I’m missing something, but eventually we were at Prism and Spencer was dancing like the beautiful man he is, and Q and I talked about something, and then we left and I taxied home. The driver was nice and had an earring.

Yep.

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Last Day At 24 – April 11, 2005
I don’t feel different yet — but then I still have 15 more hours until I turn 25. Apparently I’m still impatient.

I have a few birthday traditions that I’ve made for myself. First off, I spoil me. Strangely, I haven’t yet got myself a gift, which I usually do. Past years’ gifts include: a necklace & bracelet; a quilt I made myself; my computer. Actually, that was my UVic grad present, but whatever.

I’m considering a “divan coverer” or whatever it’s called, because my quilt has been chewed up by Peter over the years. Or maybe . . . yeah, I don’t need anything. How funny.

Anyhoo, another tradition is to write a letter, or more like a summary, of where I am and what I’d like to do this next year. I have one from last year to read, but I’m going to write this year’s first so that I’m honest.

Now’s a good time, post-dinner and waiting for Rick Mercer’s Monday Report . . .

. . . Okay, done. That was weird. I wrote my letter, then opened up the envelope and there was a blank survey inside, for me to fill out and then compare answers to previous years. I love surveys — how funny that I’d account for this. I know me so well.

Anyhoo, some answers were word-for-word identical. For example, I want to travel to Greece, Peru, and South Africa. This year, I got to write a (future) date for Greece, so that was thrilling. Also, under “accomplishments” I listed “self-sufficiency” again . . .

Now I’m going to have a bath. Because I can. Because I’m self-sufficient.

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Writing to Ryan – April 11, 2005
Douglas Coupland is talking about Terry Fox on CBC. Why is Douglas Coupland . . ? Ah, it seems he wrote a biography or something.

It’s sorta sickly surreal to watch a cultural icon monologue on a cultural icon. I wonder if other people will feel this strange when CBC interviews you on knowing me, on being the addressee of my letters.

Or the other way around, and I write a Broadway SuperShow about Ryan the Rockstar, and meanwhile you’re all Rockstar and shit, and you’re not sure if you should sue my ass or just tolerate, as you always have, my affection.

No, let’s make me the really famous one. It’s my birthday tomorrow.

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B-Day D-Day – April 12, 2005
I actually managed to sleep in, after a brief moment of restlessness at 5:35am! Peter and I had a lovely snuggle on the couch, and he tried to groom my housecoat for awhile. So a good Birthday so far.

I initially had planned to run around the block this morning to celebrate my newfound healthiness, but it is too cold and windy for that sort of behaviour. I am also newly mature, you see. So I will drink a pot of tea and then leisurely make my way to the spa.

Yay birthdays! And 25 feels like a nicely even number, considering that it’s odd. (I like even numbers – they are symmetrical.) 25 is the square of 5 (or something – I can’t remember mathematical terminology anymore) and it has always pleased me numerically.

Anyhoo.

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25 Years Worth of Wisdom – April 13, 2005, 12:16am
I am butter. Q’s present of a spa day was ridiculous luxury. My back and shoulders are mushy, my fingernails are perfect and Barbie-pink, my toenails are perfect and Hooker-red. I smell so good from 5 hours of oils and lotions and etc. that Q kept commenting on it, which is unusual. I’m so used to:

QUINN: Your feet stink. Put your shoes in the hall and go wash your feet.

I had happy birthdays from Alex, Jessie, Momma & family, Grammas Walker and Demone, Shawn from London Ontario, the folks at work . . . and there’s something large and bulky on my porch, which is either from the bunnies or Kim, my neighbour and the Bunnies’ Fairy Godmother.

And I came home to find a package o’ love from Ryan in my mailbox, and now I’m all mushy inside.

Perfect birthday.

Oh, and I bought a tiara. For the weekend.

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Tea & Repaired Hair – April 13, 2005, 6:48pm
Spencer revived my broomstick hair this morning! I missed it. And now I’m short-banged and frazzled yet again — back to the way I’m meant to be.

And then I went for tea at the White Heather with Aunt Pat, and Uncle Craig came along too, for my birthday tea. The food there is so good, and Mad Hatter tea is the best. It was really great to have some time with P&C — they might be going to Paris this year, and that will be exciting for them. Apparently Pat retired last May but I’m a gomer so didn’t realize it until Mom mentioned it last week. I like it when people do what makes them happy. It’s rare.

And then and then
I managed to talk Q into skipping yoga/pilates today, even when half-asleep. Now I get to drink cider and know that my kitchen dishes are clean, and I’m watching Medium and soon CSI on tape. Heaven.

Medium
The psychic’s kids are being all psychic and the parents are freaking out, with bizarre familiar guilt about “contaminating the gene pool” with their own weaknesses. Better fucked up than non-existent.

And Finally
Spencer & Q and I went to Luciano’s for steak and chicken and pasta. Yummy. Now I have a fridge full of leftovers, afternoon tea desserts and fresh tomato spaghetti. A good time for the apocalypse.

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Goddamn Sleepless Night – April 14, 3:18 am
At first I couldn’t sleep because I’m busy ruminating on the riddles that Ryan sends me. Then I kept thinking of how to fix my stories or almost-stories, so I had to get up and write those down. And NOW the fuckers below me haven’t yet stopped their all-night scream fest.

But I am very proud of myself as SuperHero H-Bomb because I (finally) went downstairs and knocked REALLY LOUDLY AND ANNOYINGLY and said I had to get up for work in three hours and AAAGGGGHHHHHHH!!!!!!! (that was about as articulate as I got). So they said Sorry, Heather, Sorry, and told me to go to bed, and now they’re being loud again. I hate alcohol when I’m not the one drinking it.

I would watch some crap TV or even run around the block, because I’m wired and I can’t sleep anyways because they are so GODDAMN NOISY but I’m so exhausted that I’m shaking. So running isn’t a great idea. And TV? Well, I’m determined to take the high road and not contribute to the Ruckus in this house tonight.

So there. Moral righteousness triumphs again. (Or not.)

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Giddy w/ Sleeplessness – April 14, 5:53 pm
I ran around the block — AND MORE — today!!!!!! Further than I’ve gone before . . . the sunshine was crazy bright and I’m powered by adrenalin due to lack o’ sleep . . . yay for me!

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Writing to Ryan – April 14, 2005
How To Love A RockStar:
1.

I dunno. I’ve never loved a RockStar before. I’m more of a Tea-on-the-Couch-While-Watching-a-Movie-in-my-PJs kinda girl, not a giggly groupie. I giggle when I get tired, though . . . maybe that will help . . . ? And I’ve always wanted to be a groupie. Just for a little while. A monogamous groupie who bakes wicked pie . . . damn these domestic tendencies!!!

I wonder if he’ll write a Top o’ the Charts song for me — My #1 Fan Has Never Seen Me Play —

okay, that’s enough.

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Moving to the City House – April 15, 2005
Q is off to a Vegan Wedding this weekend (that is so funny but it’s too long to explain so hahaha). I am doggy-sitting Celeste, which means that I am temporarily living at Q’s. Peter the Alpha House Rabbit wouldn’t like sharing his space with a dog, and so I’m the one who is inconvenienced. What the hell? Keep in mind, however, that Peter cuddled me and sat on my pillow and guarded me from the Forces of Darkness with his awe-inspiring bunniness all night, so this relationship is decidedly reciprocal . . . I’m such a mush. Anyhoo.

Also this weekend is Celebrate Heather’s Birthday With Girly Extravagence, and it will be handy to have Q’s urban apt as a downtown headquarters. What with the strippers and the vodka and such.

In Other News
Ryan is playing tonight, in Maple Ridge and we must all think happy RockStar thoughts so that everything goes A1 and maybe he gets all famous (or whatever he wants as an outcome) and then he can buy a private helicopter and fly over to visit me a lot. (Does that make me selfish? Whatever.) So everyone think STRONG UNBREAKABLE BASS STRINGS and CRAZY WILD SUPPORTIVE AUDIENCE and maybe even HAPPENSTANCE THAT PLACES KEY CONNECTION IN AUDIENCE WHEN S/HE IS SEARCHING FOR THE NEXT GREAT THING.

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Strippers & MAC Makeovers & Martinis – April 17, 2005
I was a sexy 25 year old GODDESS last night. Post-MAC makeover (courtesy of Sabrina the future interior deesigner and current art student) I was ridiculously hot, as was galpal Jessie with her un-Jessie-like Cleopatra eye make up, and so we went all out and wore The Dresses that we bought after an entire day of searching in February. Pink spaghetti-straps for me; black salsa for Jessie. Yiminy.

We had dinner at Bravo’s (the best restaurant in town) and gorged on seafood & martinis.

And the strippers were alright — we went to the Boom Boom Room, where they have a “Ladies’ Night” every Saturday and buff, short men get naked in front of us while we drink. Yes, they’re short. And slimy. But they are also (eventually) naked.

FOR THOSE WHO DON’T KNOW: the essential difference between female & male strippers is that the (female-only) audience can touch and interact with the male strippers. Ew. But a lot of women take advantage of this — especially when out at a Stagette party or birthday or whatever. (In post-stripper analysis, it was decided that the male strippers were acting out a MALE fantasy of stripping, not the female fantasy. For example, female audience members would lie down on the stage while the strippers gyrated on top of them. Passive positioning!!!)

Eventually we returned to Bravo’s for chocolate lava cake (best ever ohmigod – baked when you order it).

Vodka, naked men, and chocolate. A good night. I have some great pictures, but they’ll have to wait until I’m home and can do my Camera Magic.

Meanwhile, I have a headache. I’m going to shower and play with my new make up, and hopefully there’s a greasy breakfast in my immediate future.

Also, My Gut
Apparently I’m losing weight. Jessie noticed a difference in Dress Worn in February and Same Dress, Worn Last Night. I suspect this might be due to eating fewer cheesey buns. I’m uncertain if it’s worth it — cheesey buns are so good.

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New Simpsons Episode – April 17, 2005 – 8:04 pm
haha

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HAPPY BIRTHDAY MOM!!!! – April 18, 2005
I love ya.

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Something Smells Pissy – April 18, 2005 – 4:41 pm
And I KNOW I didn’t pee on the couch/bed/floor/whatever so it must have been Peter. I am disappointed in his behaviour. HOWEVER, I did leave him alone for the weekend, so I kind of sorta deserve it. If only I could track down the source and vinegar-ized!

Self-Confidence & Photographic Evidence
I am a fairly self-involved person with a healthy dose of self-confidence, so the following is simply meant as an objective comment:

When did I get a second chin????????? Did that come with the boobs????????

Damn Government Gut. Damn those yummy cheesey buns and non-active work environment!

But there’s hope: I walked to work AND home today, and tomorrow our rowing team starts practicing. Sure, I’m not actually ROWING persay, just yelling, but technically I’m on a rowing team with twice-weekly practices.

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Quote of the Day – April 18, 2005

“You can be a murderous tyrant and the world will remember you fondly but fuck one horse and you will be a horse fucker for all of eternity.”

– Catherine the Great

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Summertime – April 19, 2005
Today has been a very good day. It’s summer outside, and so I walked from work to my first EVER rowing practice. There were many many many beautiful people at the dock, including a number of men who must have moved recently to Victoria because I SWEAR that they didn’t exist before today. Most of them were just little baby boys, including our rowing coach. Still, they are very pretty to look at.

Other perks of rowing include me being the coxswain, which means that I don’t have to lift/carry anything or exert myself physically. I just get to yell at everyone else. AND I get to say that I’m on a rowing team, which makes me sound athletic. And, as we all know, perception is reality.

Tonight
I have decided to do EXACTLY WHAT I WANT and go see Joel Kroeker and Andy Stochansky play. (I also want to helijet to Richmond and make Ryan bond with me, but that will have to wait.) Jessie is attending with me – and I can sleep in past my usual BIZARRE WORK HOURS start time because Co-Worker Duncan has gone crazy and wants to train on my job for another day. So I get to sleep in. (And if Ryan happened to appear at my door later tonight, I could very easily call in sick to work tomorrow. Ahem.)

On That Note
I decided at lunch today that I will no longer be bothering Ryan the Vancouver RockStar with my daily letters and messages o’ love. While I will probably still think of him often and have insightful conversations with him in my mind while walking to work or in the shower, I am starting to feel like a stalker and that makes me very uncomfortable. So I’m going cold-turkey. Except of course for random references to The Man With Whom I Am In Love (TMWWIAIL) on this website. Because otherwise I wouldn’t be honest.

Goddamn Stupid Fucking Postal Service Mo’Fo’s
I HATE it when they don’t leave a parcel here, they just leave that goddamn note thing on my door handle. This means that I have to wait until tomorrow to go get the parcel, and we all know I’m chronically (terminally?) impatient. Also, sometimes when this happens it’s something stupid, like new cheques from CIBC. And then I get excited and go to all that effort of walking down to the postal office (and don’t forget your driver’s license! I did that once.) and all for nothing.

However, it’s still close enough to my birthday that it might be a present. So I’m going to let myself get excited. And maybe I’ll go down tomorrow morning, before work . . . yay!!!!

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Epic Adventure – April 20, 2005
I walked down to the post office today and it was lovely. Bright green leaves and bright blue sky. Sometimes I don’t even bother to take a picture, because I know it won’t equal the real thing.

But I read the post office hours incorrectly and so my only recourse was to smash in the window and ransack the fucking place for my parcel.

Or wait until after work, when I could finally get my package.

It was from my family – a bizarre purse-pinata with candy and socks and undies and seeds for bunny gardens. I love having a month-long birthday —- the love never ends!!!!

Otherwise
I already miss TMWWIAIL. I liked writing love letters and et cetera. BUT I MUST BE STRONG and dignified and unstalkerlike.

Speaking of Unavailable Men
Q and Jessie and I had sushi-lunch with Raphael the Unhappily-Married Banker today. Raphael is helping me & Q figure out if we can buy a house. Not that we want to – it’s just something to do.

Also
I’m making burritos for the Q and me.

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Paul Martin’s on TV – April 21, 2005
Why do we have old men making all the rules?

Thoughts on the Vacuum
My initial intent with this whole website thing was to STOP writing/thinking in a vacuum, but I’m not sure if I’ve embraced this resolution to its full potential.

I’m considering having a section where people can comment on things, but I’m relunctant — partly because THIS IS MY SPACE, DAMMIT but also because I have certain confidentialities that I have to respect (i.e. my work) and I don’t want to be responsible for whatever someone else posts on here. Still, if my self-prescribed mandate is dialogue (vs. monologue) then technically y’all should be able to respond, aside from just emailing me your thoughts and reactions. I don’t even know if you WANT the opportunity to comment.

Maybe if I can get some sort of password protected space, where comments can be posted by APPROVED readers only . . . then the Times Colonist can’t bust me for the ramblings of some random web commie.

Row, Row, Row Your Boat
I feel so athletic and healthy this week. (Despite the bottle of cider on the desk, despite my obsession with eating entire loaves of bakery-fresh rye bread.) After all, I’m On A Rowing Team.

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What Were You Doing @ 4:35 am?- April 22, 2005
I was completely awake for no apparent reason — Peter was sleeping his bunny sleep and the house was quiet — and I suspect it’s because one of you was doing something exciting or life-changing or tramautic.

So is everyone okay? Just checking up . . .

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Busy Busy Busy – April 24, 2005 – 1:13am
Friday was sushi day with Liv, Saturday was shopping with Jessie and my Official BDay Dinner, and I’ve been running around like a demon wanker trying to visit with everyone and bond with everyone. No time for CSI, even! No tea! I’ll try to write properly Sunday (today??) for awhile, but now I’m tired and ready for bed.

I am SO EXCITED about The Hitchhiker’s Guide on Friday. I’m going with Liv. Ohmigod ohmigod ohmigod.

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Flowers on the Weekend – April 24, 2005 – 7:03 pm
It’s summer here all-of-a-sudden and flipflops are everywhere. How strange, that Victoria can be Canada’s Most Beautiful Dead-End, grey and clammy and sad for five months every year, and then it boings and there’s fertilizer in every flower box, shit-stink fills the air, everyone takes off their shirts and Summer Is Here. It’s almost sorta kinda worth living in Victoria.

Regan our UVic galpal came to visit this weekend and was our Guest o’ Honour at my BDay dinner Saturday night, so she got to see Victoria In the Summertime. (That’s how we fool them into moving here!) We’re old enough now to have “fond memories” with which to reminisce. When did that happen????

David Lynch
Jessie and I have invited newbies to this month’s Atomic Vaudeville performance! The theme is David Lynch, and I’m not sure we’ll find anything funny because we know shit all about David Lynch as a collective. But I’ve seen Mulholland Drive and The Elephant Man so I can tell everyone when we’re supposed to laugh at those parts.

Spencer’s in love with the Bush Twins. That’s what happens to single people in Victoria — gay Mormons fall for caricatures and straight girls stalk RockStars from the mainland.

Oh yah.

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Kerouac Poetry as White Noise – April 25, 2005 – 9:28pm
It’s Ryan’s 23rd birthday today!!!!!!!!!! Remember where you were on this day — it will one day be a crucial point in the timeline of Ryan the RockStar Becoming Legendary Writer & Artist & MusicMaker, Etc. Not to mention the Greatest Love Story Ever Told, ‘Tween Future Great Canadian Writer Heather and Future Legendary RockStar Ryan.

There’s a quote in Hitchhiker’s Guide, about Capital Letters conquering the unknown. I like that.

I Have a Headache
But nonetheless today was an uber-productive day. I did my laundry and have Closets and Drawers full of clean cotton. I washed my favourite-ever butter-yellow sheets, and tomorrow I’ll make my bed (I’m too tired tonight). There’s something crazily pleasant about sleeping between yellow sheets. Like you’re inside a tulip, or something. It’s funny and surreal and Perfect Comfort. I have way too many clothes, but I managed to throw out some of them today so everything fits nicely in my little apartment. Also, I cleaned Peter’s litterbox(es) and it smells like hay.

Peter’s Litterboxes
This might just be a direct reflection of my laziness, but Peter now has two litterboxes. It’s an experiment. And yes, so far he’s managed to divide his . . . time . . . evenly between the two. He’s starting to have illusions of ownership in the apt, which is problematic because bunnies tend to mark their spaces with poops. That is unacceptable. So I’ve compromised and given him another litterbox.

These are the things that occupy my day.

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Writing to Ryan – April 25, 2005
HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I sent my tiara & Magic BDay Wand to you via Regan — use this power Wisely . . .

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Coxswaining on the Gorge – April 26, 2005
I feel athletic and sunny and exhausted. The plan was to have a nap between worktime and rowing time, but instead, tormented by a dream of a bare porch, I cleared another load of straw from S&C’s playground.

Does anyone else dream that their porches are straw-less? It was such a disappointment when I realised that I still had to clear it.

Soooooo being all mature and responsible (I’m 25, after all) I am making myself eat dinner before I FINALLY get to bed. Chicken & pasta microwave dinner. At least it’s something. And not just cheese.

Christmas-Eve Complex
There’s a 70% chance that my RockStar sweetie pooh MWWIAIL will visit me tomorrow. For someone such as myself, who tends to get giddy with excitement when new adventures take place, this 70% is killing me. Luckily, tomorrow is also Atomic Vaudeville night, and Jessie and I have invited Liv & Spencer to join us as well. So regardless of whether my Beautiful Crazy ArtistMan appears in Victoria, I will have a great night.

Still, I’m grateful for the prozac.

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Writing to Ryan – April 26, 2005
You should DEFINITELY come visit tomorrow. Even though I haven’t made pie.

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Yet Again – April 27, 2005 – 11:07pm
New resolution: I will not fall in love with anyone who doesn’t fight for me. I want a strong man who will appreciate how super duper I am, and is willing to make an effort to win me.

Thusly, no more gay/bisexual boys; no more obscure Toronto comedians; no more flakey artists or RockStars. I’m tired of having my heart farted on.

Also
I had a wicked great time with Liv and Jessie at Atomic Vaudeville tonight!!!! It was brilliant. And they named their new curtain after me. It’s a really awkward-sounding name for a curtain. Anyhoo, cosmo martinis and salmon and one blowjob (shot) — brilliant company, brilliant night of Heather-Love-In. Also, I have tomorrow off (because I’m amazing and also unapologetically naive re: love) so I will sleep in and watch CSI on tape. Drink tea with sour milk. Et cetera. Live the good life.

 

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Day of Recuperation & Heart-Bandaging – April 28, 2005
I ran this morning! My long route, down to Government House on Rockland, then up Royal and around Craigdarroch Castle. It’s about 2 long Eminem songs worth, or 10 minutes. I’m a SuperHero. Now that it’s cool again outside, I’m briefly contemplating going for a second time today, but I’ve already opened a bottle of cider so we’ll see about that. Also, don’t want to get all uber-exercise anorexic. So will eat cheese.

Other Adventures
Jessie & Q & I had sushi today at Ebizo. YUMMY. I could eat sushi every day and not get tired of it. It’s the saddest thing ever that I will have to forego salmon rolls when (eventually) I get knocked up. Jessie and I are trying to eat enough sushi to compensate for this inevitable trial.

Also, we had our fourth ever rowing practice! Our coach Fraser is sweet and Adonis-like & sun-kissed, but he says “okay?” after every sentence and I want to dunk him. (Actually, I’m just pissed because he was cranky today and criticised my rudder-steering skills. I don’t like having my rudder-steering skills criticised. Goddamn twinkie mo’fo.)

In Addition
I keep Roger, the wooden father from The Terrible Preservation of Valentine Pilate, on my porch. I can see him through the window, and it scares me EVERY SINGLE TIME because it looks like someone’s staring in and watching me. Eek. However, I’m purposefully leaving him out there, not only because I have nowhere else to put him, but also because I like the quick adrenalin rush.

And On the Mental Health Front
Today was wonderful, having a vacation day and doing whatever the fuck I wanted at any given time. However, I was also battling an anxiety-breakdown at my disappointment over Ryan the RockStar not coming to visit me. Q is right: I set myself up for emotional catastrophe. But everytime my heart hurts I learn another thing about how I love, so I suppose it’s not a totally awful flaw. One of my many horoscopes this week said I’ve evolved A LOT since ’94/’96, and this is true. I’m a hell of a lot stronger and smarter and so on. (I suppose that’s to be expected – it was a whole freaking decade ago.) Anyhoo, I’m constantly surprised at how love makes me weak and vulnerable and stupid. I suspect that might just be the nature of love.

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Writing to Ryan – April 28, 2005
Anger-stage is over. Anxiety attack, due to Christmas Eve Complex and chronic disappointment in love, narrowly averted.

Conclusion: you might not be a dink persay, but you hurt my feelings by not communicating your Heather-affecting plans to me and thusly your actions were dinkesque.

If you want me, you’re going to have to win me.

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My horoscope for today – April 29, 2005 

It’s not exactly a trouble-free day today in romantic matters, dear Heather. The Moon and the Lovers are working in tandem, creating an atmosphere of discouragement and uncertainty… You are inclined to distrust the good intentions of the people close to you and to question their love. It goes without saying that such feelings are diametrically opposed to creating an atmosphere of happiness and fulfillment… Be on your guard against an onset of the blues! In the work environment, your goals are clear and you know exactly what steps you need to take. Sadly, the same cannot be said of the people around you. In the twilight of the Moon, the people around you are somewhat lost. Their behavior is inconsistent and they create confusion and uncertainty. It’s probably best if you steer clear of them and get on with your own work.

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YAYAYAYAYAYAY – April 29, 2005 – 3:28pm
Liv & I have established rendezvous coordinates for Hitchhiker’s Guide and I am giddy. Tickets have been purchased, game plan is in play. Bring your duct tape, this could get significant.

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Afterglow – April 29, 2005 – 10:30pm
I don’t want to talk about it — I need to ruminate. But first impressions are YAYAYAYAY and there are some golden moments.

Also
Call it a Hitchhiker’s high, call it Fate, but I have overcome my anger-stage at the RockStar’s uncommunicated departure and I am once again Madly In Love & Proud of It. Honestly, I’m lucky he’s just a little flakey. There are so many worse things.

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Writing to Ryan – April 29, 2005
Thank you for the love letter. I REALLY needed that.

Little Spitfire

January 2005

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Daily Epiphany – January 2, 2005, 4:35 pm
I have entered the modern world and now own a DVD player. At A&B Sound you can buy Golden Girls anthologies, and this makes me feel very uncomfortable – I chose Kids in the Hall, and now I just have to figure out how to connect all the wires from DVD – VCR – TV . . . . this might be more difficult than I expected, because the wires have a third, red plug and my VCR only has yellow and white sockets. My TV is so old school that there isn’t any plug-in other than the cable screwy thing. Anyhoo, Golden Girls. I mean, really.

Letters to Levi MacDougall
Yesterday I saw this country music video called “Live Like You’re Dying” and I had a horrible moment where I thought maybe I’ve chosen the wrong medium —- writing is such a personal, private, lonely genre — and my audience is limited by factors such as:

  1. my own motivation to get published
  2. the editor’s inclination to accept my submission
  3. the reader’s interest in reading the final product
  4. also, accessibility, language, literacy, etc.

And, Levi is a comedian, which is also limited because stand-up comedy is an in-the-moment, must-be-present kind of art, so he relies on his own motivation to perform each and every time. I just have to have one or two good-writing moments to make something that will last. So maybe we should just sing country songs and make music videos, and then lazy bastards who are too blah to change the channel from CMT will be exposed to our art.

The Warren
Peter, Seamus, and Caramel are fine. Thanks for asking. They had a great New Year / Christmas / etc and it’s currently bunny naptime at the warren. It’s been a long day of tunneling and pooping on the porch, so they deserve some rest.

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Daily Epiphany – January 3, 2005, 6:26 pm 
Goddamn Future Shop. Goddamn DVD wires.

Also, Kent Karemaker visited me today! He’s going to be a famous voice over actor guy one day. I haven’t seen him in months, and it was so good to see him doing well. Sexy as ever, and so easy to talk to. I’m glad we’re going to be friends.

Letters to Levi 
My epiphany re: country music the other day is ironic, considering that I’ve started this uber-high tech website. It’s immediate! My writing needs no publisher! I can access the lazy bastards who can’t be bothered to change the channel! Yay! How do I pay rent doing this?

The Warren 
I’ve realized the bunnies can’t be cold out there on the porch, because the bunnies at UVic survive winter every year. And the UVic bunnies don’t have the food, water, shelter, and constant hay supply of Seamus or Caramel. So no more worries. (Also, the porch is walled in to protect them from scary swooping owls and herons, as well as cats and naughty teenage boys.)

And Peter is so great. He was sprawled out in his road-kill-bunny happy pose earlier today!

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Daily Epiphany – January 4, 2005, 6:15 pm
To end my epic tale of technology, let me announce that I have figured out how to make my new DVD player work!!!! Yay!!! I figured it out by myself, and I have felt ridiculously competent ever since. However, I still have an extra connecting wire thingy that cost me a good $21.99 at Future Shop, and was sold to me separately from my DVD player as a must-have. I have been exploited, and I plan to cause a scene (loud but tasteful) when I return the unnecessary cord. Future Shop, beware.

I feel guilty for spending time inside when it’s so sunny and bright out these days. Victoria is sneaky like that – it looks lovely and walkable, but in fact it’s unbearably cold outside. If I’d followed through on the walk I had planned for after work, I’d be ill by now. But I still feel guilty, playing with my jigsaw puzzle and my photographs, problem-solving my new techy toys, when it’s blue and brilliant outside.

I miss Invermere, where it’s snowy and you can just look outside and see that, yep, it snowed, so therefore it’s winter and hibernation is acceptable. Eat, drink, sleep. But here the weather fools me! It looks like spring, with the stupid flowers everywhere, birds, etc. Sometimes I hate this bio bubble of an island, but it’s green and blue and pretty even in the middle of winter, so I should really just get on with it.

What’s for Dinner 
I’m making linguini and pesto sauce, which is my favourite when I’m lazy and hungry. There is so much garlic in the pesto that Quinn has commented on the lingering odour hours after I’ve eaten, brushed my teeth, and showered. But then, Quinn is sensitive to that sort of thing . . .

Quote of the Day 
“Women who pay their own rent don’t have to be nice.”

I could cite the source, but I don’t feel like it.

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Update – January 5, 2005, 10:45 pm
Happy News: Levi MacDougall will be on the Comedy Network sometime soon! It’s a feature airing of Comedy Now. More info will be provided as it emerges [DATE: FEBRUARY 13th , 2005, 10 pm!]. Also, pictures from the resulting Levi Party (denim theme?) will be posted 🙂

Sad News: Yogen Fruz in the Bay Centre food court has closed. I don’t know when it was gutted, but there is no more frozen-yogurt-and-fresh-fruit-goodness available in downtown Victoria. We’ll just have to make do with Booster Juice and fresh gelati. Oh, and the best homemade ice cream EVER at Sweet Memories on Government Street. And the super dooper soft serve cones at the Beacon Hill Drive In . . . (there are line ups for the outside service counter, even in the middle of winter.)

Upsetting Feedback
Questions have been raised as to the sexual orientation of Mr. Levi MacDougall. Despite being an ever-proud fruitfly/homo honey/fag hag I assure you that I do not always become infatuated with gay (or bisexual) men.

Regardless, my initial interest in Mr. MacDougall was not necessarily relationship-motivated. I think he’d be a super-fab penpal, and if we can develop a written correspondence then we can one day publish it or sell it on eBay and mutually benefit. Future Canadian comedian and writer, etc. So there. If he is straight, then so much the better.

Here is a poem, authored by my gal friend Jessie:

There once was a girl named Heather
Who tended to like guys who were clever
And then one day
In sometime past May
She realized that they were all gay.

In other news . . .
for those of you wondering how to pronounce “placate,” I have done the research: pla’kat’ or plak’at’. For those of you wondering what that means . . . I dunno. Also: white tea is great for you because of its anti-oxidants. But isn’t oxygen a good thing? Oxygen can cause rust . . . does white tea prevent us from rusting??? (Does oxygen cause rust?) (Is five years of university enough?)

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January 6th: HAPPY 23RD BIRTHDAY, EVY!!!!!!! 

Letters to Levi
Perhaps I should have some kind of Levi Hotline, via which friends / colleagues of Mr. MacDougall can call in and report.

Perhaps that crosses the line o’ creepy . . .

Healthy Things I Do
Intake: I bought this nasty tasting pseudo-Greens+ stuff. You mix it with water and chug it down — it takes like snot and wheatgrass. I love the smell of cut grass (my favourite scent, in fact – there should be a perfume*) but I definitely don’t like the taste. Anyhoo, it’s supposed to give me energy and make up for all the vegetables I don’t eat. Nasty.

When I remember, I take my “One Tablet Daily” multivitamin and mineral tablet. Side-effects include: yellow urine that smells like cabbage.

I don’t drink tonnes of water. I have chapped lips this week to prove it. But I do guzzle tea like a deranged English matron. That’s water . . . technically.

Output: Rockland is my neighbourhood. It’s lovely — old houses, stone fences, iron gates . . . I like doing a lap around Craigdarroch Castle. I’ve run around the block twice so far this year, and I feel like a rock star for being so healthy. Unfortunately, Quinn broke our communal discman the other day while treadmilling at the Y and now I can’t listen to Eminem to distract me from the physical discomfort. So no running for me, at least for awhile. Also, thanks to Jessie I have excellent running shoes.

I own a pilates ball . . . it’s pink, and looks really pretty on top of my bookshelf.

Sometimes Jessie inspires me and we do spontaneous sit-ups on Quinn’s living room rug. According to Jessie, my fitness guru, the perfect sit-up form is:
– legs up, parallel to the ground
– knees bent at 90-degrees
– chin away from chest (as if you’re holding a little ball or apple or something with your chin)
– arms (obviously) not pushing or levering your upper body into a sit-up
– do NOT tuck or rest your feet/legs on anything.

I miss the abs I had when I was thirteen and learning to snowboard. Nothing is better for your stomach muscles than falling on your ass and having to get back up.

Cut-Grass Perfume
A great idea. I’d buy it, and use it. I wonder how much that would piss off people with hay fever?

Other scents that I love include: green tea, lemon, lime, and vanilla. Once when I was 16 I used a tester of strawberry perfume at a sort-of-Body-Shop-store and then rode in a car for 1.5 hours with a bunch of teenaged boys. The air circulation made the whole car stink of strawberry, and the guys could not stop talking about sex. But maybe that was because they were teenaged boys, and not because of the perfume.

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LETTERS TO LEVI: January 7, 2005
I’m still trying to figure out if this is too creepy, to have a site where I publish unsent letters to someone I’ve never met.

So no entry for today.

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Weather Gone Wild – January 7, 2005, 4:16 pm
It snowed!!! I woke up to wind and whiteness. It was so much fun — everyone downtown was bundled up and smiley (yet fearful). Also, I got to go home early from work – we’re expecting more snow through to Monday. I love my job, but I also love being home, warm, with tea, pajamas, and my rabbits.

Things I Picked Up On The Way Home:
– a loaf of bakery-fresh rye bread
– six bunches of parsley and a bag of carrots for the bunnies (we’re almost out of rabbit food pellets!)
– $100 cash because credit cards will be worthless in The New Land That Is Snowed-In Victoria
– a rather large bottle of Bailey’s
– 2L of milk for tea (and to mix with the Bailey’s)

The Warren
Seamus and Caramel looked very confused this morning. Everything on their (sheltered from predators) porch was covered with snow! I dumped them into my wicker laundry basket and relocated them to a makeshift rabbit refugee camp (aka my kitchen). They’re warm but skittery.

Peter, aside from being mirfed about sharing his territory, is just fine. There were a few manic STOMPS* this morning, but that’s it.

* For those of you who don’t know bunnies, they actually do stomp, just like Thumper on Bambi. It’s REALLY LOUD and has kept me awake occasionally. They stomp for either one of two main reasons:
1. something is trying to kill them and there’s DANGER!
or
2. something is different (i.e. I swept).

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LETTERS TO LEVI – January 9, 2005:
When asked, those who know that I’m not a creepy stalker have suggested the following reasons for why it’s okay to “pursue” my interest in Mr. MacDougall:

– He might possibly be flattered by the attention, and it’s nice to make someone feel special.
– I’m (technically) making him more famous by spreading the Levi Gospel, which never hurts in a profession that relies on name-recognition.
– I’m providing him with some excellent material for his “My Stalker” comedy set.

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Weekend Update – January 9th, 2005, 8:07 pm
This weekend was wonderfully different from the usual. Quinn and some of our other friends attended the young model parliament conference thingy, in which about 90-something young people (16-30) take over the Legislature and pretend to be the House. Ivan was the Prime Minister, and Rowan was the Minister of something or other. Scott was the Leader of the Official Opposition (NDP). Pinder was also there, and a bunch of people I’d met via Quinn’s previous political shenanigans. I watched for a few hours each day, and everyone was mad with power . . .

Quinn won some great recognition awards: Best New Member, Sitting As a Minister; the Liberal Caucus’ Pierre Elliot Trudeau Award for his unapologetic Liberal arrogance and circular rhetoric; and the NDP’s Tommy Douglas Medicare Award, in recognition of his exceptional speaking performance.

If anyone knows how I can write off the costs of this weekend, as Quinn’s official biographer, please let me know.

Name Vs. Verb
Why Is it said: “to peter out”? Did some guy name Peter once gradually falter? And in a memorable way?

Similarly, something can “wane” (“Wayne”). ????????

Kids in the Hall
Three of the five Kids in the Hall members have “Mc” surnames. Coincidence?

Question of the Day
Is it in poor taste to sing the “Running Faggot” song while jogging with your favourite gay boy?

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Heather’s Comedy Commentary – January 10, 2005
Some Comedic Types:

i. Is Everyone in the Audience Drunk? Or a Relative?
S/he’s obnoxious but the audience laughs and s/he hears the laughter and is inappropriately encouraged. S/he sounds increasingly confident and that makes him/her more obnoxious.

ii. Aren’t You Dead Yet?
An American / older man / misguided young fella who (still) thinks that sexism is really funny.
Sample line: “My wife talks too much.” And you’re a dick.

iii. Sexy Accent Guy
Usually Australian, Irish, or British. He’s not very appealing physically, but his accent is so sexy! He’s funny, except that sometimes you can’t understand what he’s saying.

iv. Levi MacDougall
Levi is my favourite of them all. He is bizarre and fractured – post-modern, actually, for those of us who think we know what that means. I admire Levi because he’s so different from all the other comedians I’ve seen.
CAUTION: Someone once told me that liking a writer because of her writing is the same as liking chickens because eggs are yummy.

Family Contact
Also, I received a great letter from my Gramma in Burlington, Ontario today. She gave me a wonderful book one Christmas: How to Be Happy, Dammit! I highly recommend it, and the subsequent publications (The Seven Lively Sins).

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Online Intentions – January 11, 2005
I do have specific motivations for creating this site. Around New Year’s I resolved to stop writing without an audience. I have notebooks and files and floppy discs and drawers of loose papers full of my writing from the past 12 years or so, and I’m the only one who reads it (except for the editors I submit to, and the writing workshops of my university years).

How will I ever be the Great Canadian Writer of My Generation if no one reads me?

The creation and upkeep of these pages satisfy my need to note the details. It doesn’t even matter if anyone reads this, because I am writing every single day, and that’s wonderful.

On the Hunt
Similarly, my virtual correspondence with Levi MacDougal is satisfying regardless of whether he knows about it. I’d love it if he would participate, because dialogue is healthier than monologue. The only result that I wouldn’t be happy with is if he is mean to me (sensitive creature that I am).

It’s like writing in general. You can scribble in secret and never risk hurt feelings, or you can make it visible and open yourself to the good comments as well as the criticism.

Six Degrees, Discovered
Nathan read my website and (eek!) is dating a comedian who knows Levi. It was bound to happen. Nathan has been charged with the mission of discerning Levi’s sexual orientation, etc. (As a homo-honey I’m overly aware of the risks of having a crush on an artsy guy.)

Exciting developments, as always!

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Something Pointy This Way Comes – January 12, 2005
My wisdom teeth are sprouting and they don’t hurt. Current status is as follows:
– bottom right: pointy tooth like a mountain top growing from my gums
– bottom left: rough gums, which I have learned is the signal for an upcoming tooth
– top right: less-rough gums that shift to regular gums every other day, as the tooth seriously considers emerging
– top left: no developments as yet.

For the record, my dental benefits kick in March 1, 2005. I don’t plan to get my wisdom teeth removed unless they start to hurt, as per the excellent advice of my childhood dentist, Doctor Don.

Rumination of the Day
I’ve been considering this quote from the venerable Stephen King (yuck) from his book On Writing. I don’t particularly admire the man’s writing, so I don’t have to agree with his aphorism, but here it is:

“Life isn’t a support system for art. It’s the other way around.” (page 101)

The more I think about this, the less it makes sense.

Any time I discuss The Meaning Of Life with artsy people they tend to concur that art is what gives any life purpose. But is King saying that we need to put down our pens/paintbrushes/ballet shoes and start living? Art isn’t a justifiable purpose for life?

But if art is a support system for life, then . . . art sustains us? Art pays my rent? I don’t think so. The problem here, in part, is the sentence structure. A negative (“isn’t”), which is then reversed (“the opposite”). ????????

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Making Progress on the Puzzle – January 13, 2005
I left work, picked up a bottle of sangria-for-winos and a six-pack of cider, then stood around in the cold and almost-dark waiting for the bus.

It is a testament to my cowardice that, when a bus finally came, I didn’t get on because I saw an old friend inside. Jessie and I let our friendship with Jen “peter out” around this time last year. She’s younger than us, and a Scorpio, and (if that doesn’t explain everything) she takes a lot of energy to be friends with. Jessie and I agreed that we were both too stressed out and tired to deal with the drama, and so I abandoned my extra pajama set, blender and yellow string bikini, left at Jen’s apartment after one of our girly nights, and I haven’t seen Jen since.

The strange thing is that I’m not afraid of potential confrontation. I don’t like cruelty or pettiness, but I’m not scared of talking about personal things, being straight-forward, or even awkward situations. But when I saw Jen inside the #11, I just felt so tired! A full day of work, and all I wanted was to check on my bunny rabbits, drink some bad sangria, and watch the Comedy Network. It’s Thursday, which has always been my favourite day of the week; why would I invite stress? I’m still surprised, though – at my automatic decision to avoid Jen, and at the tired feeling I got when I saw her.

Everyone seems to have different ideas about friends, and what we owe our friends. I’m a self-proclaimed, selfishly independent person these days; I don’t have much energy or love to spare for other people. I don’t think this has to be a bad thing – I’m capable of taking care of other people, and being gentle with their feelings. A selfish phase is healthy for a twenty-four year old. BUT I still feel guilty about it, which is why I’m going on at such length . . .

Footnote #1
Buses in Victoria don’t come by very often: every 10 minutes or so, on a very busy route on a weekday. (I’ve waited hours for others that never came.) In Ottawa I remember buses arriving every few minutes, and even I could figure out the city routes and transfers.

Footnote to Footnote #1
However, the trees in Ottawa are nasty. They were stuck as afterthoughts into dusty holes in the sidewalk. The bark is black from smog and construction grit. So we can feel superior here in Victoria, and in B.C., because our trees are healthy and beautiful, and actually have names (e.g. arbutus, pine, poplar, cedar). And they don’t leave gunk on your coat when you hug them.

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Bunny Epiphany – January 15, 2005, 1:16 am
The bunnies (Seamus and Caramel) are definitely relocating back to their porch tomorrow. I was all sentimental yesterday and this morning, about having my bunbuns all inside with me, stomps and all, but then I checked in on the Rabbit Refugee Camp (aka my kitchen) and there was poop everywhere. They’ve made themselves comfortable, and I don’t like that.

THEN I went and (thanks to Quinn and his excellent VW Golf) got a bale of straw from Borden Mercantile, to make a happy warm nest for the bunnies outside. Spencer was already drunk but, being the sweet Mormon farm boy he is, he helped carry my bale up the back stairs, through the hallway, through my apartment, and out onto the porch. What a superhero! I was covered in straw by the end of it. Wool coat, etc. – like a magnet!

AND THEN when I got back just now from the movie (we saw In Good Company, or whatever, with that tall guy – Eric – from That ‘70’s Show – AND, I just realized now that one of the characters was named Dan FOREMAN, which is Eric’s last name . . . anyhoo) I opened the door and smelled rabbit. EWWWWW!!!! It’s not a good sign when you smell rabbit. That means that the hay and the straw and the piss and poop (from the litterboxes, mostly – ahem) have permeated the apartment and it’s time to vinegar the floors.

So tomorrow is the Exodus. Seamus and Caramel will return to their safe and predictable bunny-lives on the porch, sheltered by my dad’s hand-built trellis (lovely), and Peter will once again reign as Alpha Bun of our tiny apartment.

Everything back to normal.

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Cranium & Other Learning Tools – January 16, 2005, 1 am
Jessie and Justin had a bunch of us over for dinner and Cranium tonight! The dinner was yummy – lemon garlic chicken, a sweet apple/almond salad, and pesto pasta. J&J are a very fine hosting team.

I left my place around 6:20pm, and opened the door to fresh snow. Strangely, there was also the “rrroosh” of rain, but it was sort of dark outside and I couldn’t tell where the noise was coming from. Of course, it was rain, and I went back in for my big umbrella, thereby embracing the uniquely Victorian logic that an umbrella in the snow makes sense. I feel so dirty . . .

The night was fun – we played Cranium, and I love Cranium, especially the impressions & charades categories. It’s also one of the only times I can use my 2 years / four terms / $1,000 worth of Ancient Greek studies from university (it helps to figure out word definitions).

We’ve all been gradually converted into hiring Spencer as our favourite hair stylist, so of the nine people there, only three hadn’t yet used Spencer’s salon services. Rachel was still fresh and sexy from her 9am appointment.

Neato Things I Learned Tonight
Hair can give you slivers! Spencer had one under his fingernail. Apparently it’s common among hair professionals.

Tigers not only have striped fur/hair, they also have striped skin.

Cider bottles have twisty-tops that twist lower than the top allows, but that’s because the glass bottles are also made to accommodate other beverages (i.e. soda pop) that require lower twisty-area. (NOTE: that might be bullshit.)

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Context Has Purpose – January 16, 2005, 9:52 pm
In highschool I always hated learning the dates of significant historical events. The stories were interesting, but the numbers were extraneous. When I started university, I dropped The History of Art 101 because the exams asked for dates of artistic creation.

Some of my fellow English lit grads know when “The Victorian Era” was. I know it was when the word “homosexuality” was invented, and “heterosexuality.” (By the by, how can anyone justify an anti-homosexual reading of the Bible if it was written before that word existed? Sentences that translate into “He KNEW him” are a little ambiguous for bigots to quote. Anyhoo.)

History buffs have always frightened me.

Part of my distaste for chronological context has to do with my inability to grasp the notion of linear time. Also, I don’t like remembering numbers. They always seem so arbitrary. If you misplace a decimal point or a zero or any random digit, the entire meaning changes. How unreliable! Words are more sturdy — if I mispell a word, you can still understand what I’m trying to say.

BUT I’ve found myself watching comedy reruns, thanks to the blizzards/monsoons this Victoria winter, and I’ve suddenly realized the value of understanding historical context. Especially when in the company of others, and I feel I have to defend a joke. Sure, Scott Thompson’s Buddy Cole character sketches are a bit . . . odd, and maybe not all that funny. But Buddy was on stage during the AIDS plague, before Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and Will & Grace. It’s due to him, in great part, that Queer Eye ever made it on air. And while Queer Eye, etc., might not be the best champions of gay-as-mainstream, it’s a massive leap from the days of our parents’ TV evenings.

Tangent . . .

My point is that, with an understanding of what society, etc., was like BEFORE, it enables us to appreciate the art that came out of that time. And while some of you might already understand this, it was my epiphany of the weekend, and I’m very pleased to finally join those of you who appreciate the value of historical context.

Also
The bunnies have returned to their porch, and are VERY happy with their straw-lined lair. And Peter’s forgiven me for letting them inside – he wiggled his nose at me this morning. I might get some snuggles tonight!

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Peter Learns to Shit in Straw – January 17, 2005
Motivated by unreasonably high late fees, I finally watched The Barbarian Invasions. And it was okay. There was a lot of (French) talk of semen and blow jobs, and unnecessary close ups on drug injections. The most memorable moment, however, was the point when the subtitles stopped appearing.

First thought: Oh, I guess it’s symbolic and Anglophones aren’t supposed to understand this scene.

Second thought: I bet it’s because my DVD wiring is . . . creative. Stupid goddamn technology.

Third thought: I’m so sad. I was emotionally invested in this story; I thought I understood the characters. BUT THEY’RE SPEAKING FRENCH!! They were, all along. And I’m not part of their world, because I can’t understand what the hell is going on now. I’m just a gal on a couch, watching a foreign film.

Reward Thyself
Another motivation for sitting through The Barbarian Invasions was Dodgeball. Yes, I rented another moronic Ben Stiller creation . . . I needed a chaser for the intellectual shot that is Les invasions barbares. I’ve begun to notice consistent cameos in certain movies – Kevin Smith has Matt Damon & Ben Affleck’s souls; Ben Stiller’s favourite blonde actress has resurrected from Zoolander and is also in Dodgeball. I suppose I could look that relationship up somewhere – some cheesy internet fan site, or a shiny celebrity magazine. But, eww, I’m not that dirty.

Peter, the Alpha Bun
Peter’s new trick is untying the pink bows on my slippers with his bunny teeth. It doesn’t matter if I’m wearing the slippers or not – they’ve gone missing, and then I’ve found them, undone, under my bed (aka in Peter’s Lair of Bunny Machismo).

He was reluctant to accept straw in his litterbox at first. (We’ve used hay since his early bunnyhood.) But after a LOT of messing about with the box – dragging it back and forth with his front paws, digging out some of the extra, more itchy straw – he’s accepted my decision. I know it sounds really gross, but a rabbit’s poops are the only accurate way to gauge his/her health and happiness. (As prey, rabbits will pretend they’re perfectly fine so as not to attract predators.) But Peter pooped this morning, and that means that the world is a happy place. Straw and all.

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The Second Letter to Levi – January 19, 2005
I bet that some of you think I’m just joking (or maybe you’re HOPING I’m just joking) but I have really mailed two letters to Levi at this time. Handwritten, pen on paper, with a stamp and address and everything.

I didn’t want to scare the poor guy, so I sent them c/o the Rivoli theatre, which he performs at a lot. This shows great restraint, considering that he is listed on 411.ca, but I think that might be a bit spooky. Home address, and all.

The first one I wrote the night I saw him on TV – sometime last summer or fall, I don’t really remember. I’d been drinking.

The second one I mailed just before Christmas, which I thought would give the postal people lots of time to deliver it before Levi’s next performance at the Rivoli. But it definitely must have arrived by last night, the night Levi was MC-ing a comedy show (which, coincidentally, included The Wet Spots, who also performed at the Victoria Fringe Festival last summer, alongside my play).

And so I wait. I expect, if he intends to reply at all, it will take at least a week for the letter to travel from Toronto. So give it two weeks or so for a reply to be in my mailbox . . . I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do if he doesn’t write back. Is three (unacknowledged) letters a bit goofy? Should I JUST TAKE THE HINT and leave the poor guy alone?

Oh, I completely forgot! Nathan was going to investigate Levi via his comedian girl. I will follow up tomorrow.

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So Much Is Happening! – January 20, 2005
Am I the only one who feels the clichéd-but-true feeling of Spring this week? Sure, there was snow just last Sunday, but EVERYTHING is so SEXUAL! Even Peter the Alpha Bun has been following me around lately, instead of hiding under the couch. This morning there was a condom balloon hanging from the roof of my bus shelter! The transvestive-hooker from View Towers had new (5-inch) heels on this morning! And the men in Victoria are good looking – I’ve lived here for more than six years, and I have never seen so many attractive men in this 6 women:1 man, “I’m married, old, or gay” city.

I always thought that winter was the time for coupling-up, in preparation for the cold and dark. But no! The animals have it right! Let’s meet, mate, and be merry!

What I Want
#1: a good massage. I’ve never been without SOMEONE to give me a proper massage, but suddenly I find myself achy and surrounded by platonic friends. I’ve resolved to get myself a spa massage this year, for my 25th birthday present. Last year I gave myself a pretty necklace and bracelet; the year before, I made myself a quilt (which Peter has since chewed up and shat out).

#2: a career like Carrie Bradshaw’s on Sex in the City. I only like watching that show because of the occasional scenes with Carrie, comfortable in her pj-underwear, ruminating over her laptop. And she can still afford to live in New York! It must be possible – TV says it’s so. This is an eventual-dream, maybe for when I’m later-20’s or thirties. First I need to pay off my goddamn student loans, and learn EVERYTHING about issues management and professional communications, so that I can freelance when the Mastercard bill is due.

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Painful Observations – January 21, 2005
When I get nervous I become a moron. This was Quinn’s insight today, and (true to best friend form) he wasn’t reluctant to share his observations with me.

I know it’s true! How can I change?? I blush and make mundane declarations . . . I can’t seem to answer any question directly, I appeal to ANYone else nearby to provide the answers that I already know.

Anytime I become convinced that I’ve “grown up,” that I’m truly “becoming the man I always wanted to marry” (I love that!), something routine happens and I stutter and stammer and turn primary-red. Lately, triggers have included: introductions to large groups of people; awkward smile-exchanges with a hottie on the bus; and inviting my sexy banker to a martini party.

When will I become smooth and suave and uber-cool? Is there an age? An income bracket? Do I need a certain number of publication credits?? Maybe I should watch more/less television.

Condom Balloon – Update
It wasn’t at the bus shelter this morning, so I wandered around a bit, trying to find it on the ground. No luck. I’ll always regret not taking that picture the other morning.

Things I’m Working On That Have Stalled
My jigsaw puzzle.
Greek lessons.
Dusting.
Three shelves worth of “good books.” (To read – I’m gradually reading them. Books are for reading.)
Times Colonist crosswords (borrowed from work) and some logic puzzles, which for some reason I’ve become incapable of finishing. Maybe I’m stupidifying.

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Ugh – January 23, 2005
I love martinis. I feel so yucky today.

Really Great Idea
Every few months I think of some innovative, life-changing invention, etc., and then I tell people and they say “Great idea!” and then a while later that same idea becomes mainstream thanks to someone else and that person gets all famous and rich and stuff.

My idea last night (after a few martinis) was to have a martini restaurant like a Japanese restaurant, with a martini-maker for each table of people. That way the martini-maker could suggest special drinks according to individual taste, etc. (personal attention, an aesthetic experience – all good stuff).

I reveled in my brilliance all last night, and then opened up to Best Friend Quinn this morning and told him my stunningly genius idea.

“Sort of like a bar?” He said.

Yep. Right.

Heather Goes Back to the Drama Buffet For Seconds
My sexy banker is married, which I know because others told me. That’s not a cool way to find out.

You might be thinking: Well, gees Heather – the ring should have been a big old clue. Silly oblivious flirt! But I say NAY! There was no ring! Devil’s Advocate Quinn pointed out that maybe, like my daddy, the banker doesn’t wear his wedding ring to work for safety reasons.

However, my daddy is a carpenter and jewelery invites maimed hands, ripped-off fingers, etc.

The banker . . . is a banker!!!!!!!

To married people who act like they’re single: some of us are still fishing around, trying to catch the right one (or not). Keep your stupid feet out of the water; you’re making it muddy and scaring all the big ones away.

Good thing I have Levi – his love keeps me grounded.

Plagiarized Quote For the Day 
(I’m Too Ill to be Insightful)
“Of course I’m for Monogamy: I’m also for Everlasting Peace and an End to Taxes.”
– title of a book by Marilyn Vos Savant.

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The Pleasure of Giving – January 24, 2005
I got cool buttons and stickers today from Bitch magazine for my donation. I love them. Give them money.

Levi MacDougall
Important news first – or lack thereof: no letter as yet. How sad. Also, Nathan reported back to me re: his scouting via a comedian gal, and I can’t quite recall what he said (I was drinking martinis at the time) but I think he said that his gal friend didn’t know Levi personally and that there wasn’t much news there. So, yep.

Also, I’ve noticed, during casual “google.ca” searches, that no new listings are coming up for L.M. so either he has retired, or google is a lazy bitch search engine, or he’s in hiding because some crazy chick in Victoria is stalking him.

In the News
I’m VERY aware of current issues – it’s part of my day job – but I don’t like to rant about politics here. It’s a choice, to preserve job security and my sanity. But I highly recommend www.publiceyeonline.com for current events and local gossip.

Also, there was a story today in the Vancouver Sun (ew) that said that the formula for happiness is as follows:
[W+(D-d)]xTQ divided by MxNA
“where W is the weather, D is your debt (and small d is the amount of money you’ll get on your next payday), T is elapsed time since Christmas, and Q the length of time since you abandoned a New Year’s resolution or other self-improvement plan. M is a sort of all-purpose category for motivation levels. NA is the necessary action for making your life better.”
– “Today – The Most Depressing Day of the Year?” Vancouver Sun, Pg A1, January 24/05, By Tom Spears).

I haven’t done the calculations yet, but with my student loan debt I don’t expect fantastic results.

The Warren
I thought Peter had learned to shit in straw, but apparently he’s the one who’s been training me, because I’ve been forced (via various bunny manipulations) to go back to using hay for his litter box. Bunnies are nefarious. To show his disdain for the straw he peed on the floor, right beside the box, and then he spread the straw ALL OVER the floor of my apartment.

I’m not sure what this says about our relationship, but as long as I get my bunny kisses I’m okay with it.

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Stupid Goddamn A&B Sound – January 25, 2005
Stupid goddamn A&B Sound. I walked ten blocks back to A&B to get my CD after my doctor’s appointment – and I’d kind of been looking forward to this new CD for awhile – and they didn’t have it. (!!!!!!!!)

So I asked. Apparently some moron did something and it won’t be in until (maybe as late as) next week. (!!!!!)

I have a crippling Christmas Eve Complex (self-diagnosed), which means that I get VERY VERY EXCITED about certain things. This whole A&B incident is upsetting.

Speaking of Heather Being Crazy
My doctor’s appointment was with a counsellor, because I’ve been trying to STOP THE MADNESS of anxiety ever since second year university. Medication is fine and (to be honest) magnificent, but I’ve been searching for some counselling/therapy sessions to balance out the drugs.

Anyhoo, our first session, today, was great. Like most people, I LOVE to talk about myself (ahem – this website), so that was fun, and also I like the process of character development and analysis, which is what my counselor “Beth” is doing. I could almost hear the “aha!”s when I said certain things, about being an eldest child raised by middle children, etc.

I’m excited about how counseling might help, but I’m also confused by the chemical vs psychological nature of my anxiety. My doctor says that it’s okay to use prescription drugs, because if I had a heart problem, I wouldn’t feel guilty for taking heart medication. But then, the whole focus of counseling (or so it seems thus far) is figuring out what’s inside me that is causing the anxiety – the “underlying issues.”

Is it me or my genetics? Anxiety is such a potent force, when unmedicated, that I have difficulty believing that breathing exercises (ha!) will quash it.

We’ll see. I feel great that I’m trying something new.

Happy Thought
Income tax!!!! I LOVE tax time. This will be an unusual year to tax-ify, due to the variety of income-creating activities. I might have to hire an accountant. YAY!

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Training the Diva – January 26, 2005
Celeste has met her match! A clicker and a pocketful of treats, with Quinn and I thoroughly trained to resist her pretty wittle Westie eyes . . . awwww . . .

Our first dog training class was tonight. I’m joining Q in this endeavor as a back-up – he says it’s because I’m the one who needs to learn how to be tough with Celeste, but I’ve seen them spooning on the couch, and I know we’ll both benefit from the lessons.

Boo to Hugo’s
There’s an ad on the radio for Hugo’s; they try to sell themselves as the bar for “young professionals.” My experiences with Hugo’s are: being hit on by a drunk old man who smelled; and those disgusting posters around town for cheap “Jugs” with a close up of airbrushed boobs in a push-up bra.

Yes, my “young professional” girl friends and I definitely choose Hugo’s for our nights out.

Wisdom Teeth – UPDATE
The great thing about wisdom teeth is that they appear when you’re old enough to have forgotten any memories of still having parts of you grow. I’m in awe of these emerging bits of enamel (calcium? What are teeth made of?) and that my mouth can accommodate their pointiness and size.

(I still vaguely remember thinking “oh, these shoes are a bit big, but I’ll grow into them” and then realizing that my feet had stopped growing the year before.)

Lessons Learned
When your friend asks you to thaw some chicken for dinner, and you put it in the microwave, and then you decide you feel like making ribs instead, it’s a good idea not to forget about the chicken, and leave it in there for two days.

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Aside From Wisdom Teeth – January 27, 2005
Jessie and I had a wonderful date tonight. A truly girl-friendly event, with cosmopolisyns from Syn, that new martini bar on Yates – oh, and I had a very decent steak and veggies and mushrooms and potatoes and LOBSTER TAIL – and before that was bra shopping, a necessary chore which I love/hate because:
– it’s fun to buy pretty things
– it’s boring to buy useful, necessary things, unless they’re especially pretty.

But exciting discovery: aside from my new Bureaucrat Belly, I also have new Bureaucrat Boobies! I’ve grown from an “A” cup to a “B” cup and this is surprising, because I thought (aside from wisdom teeth) that I was done growing. But no, I’m becoming buxom. I love that word – buxom. Sounds like an animal. That we eat.

Anyhoo, I have three stunning new bras and a pair of pants that cradle my new gut very nicely.

The Date Continued
And we attended the eighth episode of Atomic Vaudeville, a sorta improv show with guest performers. (It’s held monthly at the Victoria Culture Centre on Broad Street.)

And it was funny. We laughed a lot. (There was also a bar.) And there was a great Oreo cookie skit, and a spoof Vaghina Monopause skit, and a strip show . . . just great. A wonderful girly date – the sort of girly date that girly date dreams are made of.

And now it’s time for sleep.

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Bowling for Carpel Tunnel Syndrome – January 30, 2005, 12:31 am
Jessie, Justin, Q and I went to Mayfair Lanes tonight, and Jessie sharked us – she’s a super striker! Q drank an entire pitcher of dark ale all by himself. Also, Q and I got a parking ticket because Robin parking is stupid and mean. But then we had ice cream at Red Robin, and everything was good – I am AMAZED at how much dairy product J&J can consume when they have a craving.

Ho on the Go
Sometimes I “go homeless” and leave my apartment for a day or two – I have spare toothbrushes (and sometimes contact lens sets) at friends’ houses. I’m not sure why I like to do this, considering how much I love my home, but I love the idea of being a nomad, and living out of a bag, and scrounging for food in Quinn’s cupboards (or Bagels on Broad Street, as the case may be). My bunnies are ideal pets because they are so independent.

Entertainment Tonight
Ani DiFranco’s new CD finally arrived at A&B on Friday!!!! I confess, I haven’t listened to it yet. I’m waiting for a quiet few hours when I can sit and do my jigsaw puzzle and listen properly.

And one last bit of entertainment news: I’ve seen two movies this weekend so far – Hide & Seek, and Touch of Pink. H&S is stupid. Touch of Pink is funny and lovely and highly recommended. But then, I’m biased: I’m a homo honey who hates horror flicks.

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Rent Day! – January 30, 2005 – 10:37 pm
I’m learning how to use Fireworks and Dreamweaver, which is frustrating but fascinating. There’s something so retro-academic about self-motivated instruction. It’s like school, but sans stress. Regardless, I’ve been staring at computer screens much too often lately.

A New Angle
Dad gave me a very useful perspective today on the whole ANXIETY: IS IT MEDICAL OR PSYCHOLOGICAL? debate. I’ve been thinking of mental “illness” as similar to a heart condition, or cancer, or something equally debilitating that you didn’t necessarily cause, it’s a genetic mutation, freak occurrence, and meds are expected in order to keep you alive. (With this view, counseling is silly.)

But Dad likens mental “illness” with a tender ankle – you can take meds to ease the pain when it flares up, but if you learn how to move around the weak joint, and strengthen the muscles, then you can (help) prevent a serious injury. Therefore, counseling is helpful.

I’ve noticed how much “spin” affects our world – the above is an example. But isn’t “spin” what our parents and environment teach us? To see the silver lining on the cloud? To take a spoonful of sugar, to help the medicine go down? Mommas and Daddys are raising little spin masters. How cute.

New DVDs in Heather’s Movie Library
I bought two goodies at Future Shop today: Donnie Darko, which Kent Karemaker introduced me to; and Don Juan DeMarco, which I haven’t seen in years. (Isn’t it odd how the two titles rhyme?)

I last saw Don Juan during my pre-university, pre-critical theory, pre-feminism years. I love the movie – besides Johnny Depp being JUST SO LOVELY, I was able to appreciate the sensuality more, watching it this afternoon. And I finally noticed the whole theme of identity and reality . . . I like it when we get those opportunities to stand in front of the growth chart, and measure the distance between “then” and “now.” It makes all that time (and tuition) worth it.

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I’m a Yogi! – January 31, 2005 
Rueben brought me into the world of grown up employment, and then I introduced Andrew and Quinn, and then Quinn forwarded Jessie’s resume to Tracy . . . (also, recently, Rachel has joined the ranks!) AND NOW I AM A YOGI!

My new protégé is named Dustin. He’s just a young thing, and I am helping him with employment and housing, etc., in Victoria (he lives in Duncan, I think). I call him my Yogu. Privately, of course – listed in the directory of my cell phone . . . my little Yogu, Dustin.

Being a Yogi satisfies the bossiest of my eldest child instincts. “Email this person; make your resume this size font.” Heaven.

In Related News
If anyone wants to hire a young’un or two, I have a stack of resumes on my desk from a whole bunch of great people.

Leaning on my Door Today
was a parcel! I was in Kiss & Tell the other day and the “staff recommended” book was Sexual Intelligence. There’s even a quiz. I have a fondness for sexual self-help books – the Powers That Be say that sex and death are the two most difficult things to write about.

Anyhoo, I was going to be a good person and buy the book at my locally-owned bookstore, but then I remembered my Chapters membership discount card (silly me) and went there instead. The book had recently been on sale, it seems, but was out of stock. I refused to pay full price ($37 or something) when I knew it had just recently cost a mere $4.99, so I went online to www.abebooks.com, and I bought it for $10 US (shipping and handling included). I know it’s the devil to buy American instead of Canadian, but I paid $1.75 for public transit to carry me four blocks this morning so I think we’re even.

So the book was at my door today, and I’ve read the first chapter and done the quiz. Definitely worth $10 US — I’ve already highlighted a few gender stereotypes and strangely Christian vocabulary (“sin,” “adultery” – who says “adultery” anymore?!), but we shall see. I’ll report back when I get around to reading the rest.

P.S.
I also made ginger snap cookies tonight. They are so good.