Tag Archives: spring fever

May 2005

May 13, 2005 Heather Leave a comment

Fake Boobs – May 1, 2005 – 12:31am
Q and I ended up going to Moxie’s with a bunch of people I hadn’t met before. There were some VERY young girls there — 18 year olds — and at least two of them had breast implants. I AM SHOCKED.

I mean, they were certainly something to stare at — along with fake ‘n’ bake tans & faux french manicured nails these girls were the closest thing to real-life Barbies I’ve ever seen. But 18????? I didn’t even think that was legal.

Regardless, it was fun and weird and new. One girl with spectacular (and rumoured to be natural) breasts had phenomenal cleavage, and she was also (drunk but) friendly.

I was also going to comment on how the moxitini and double-bellini & a Crispy Crunch shot I drank had little to no alcohol content, but considering how weird the company was I might actually have been drunk.

Strawfree & Loving It
I cleared the rest of the straw today from Seamus & Caramel’s porch haven. YAY! It’s been haunting me, but now I can sleep again. Caramel, of course, supervised the entire process, and once I had swept and washed the porch she pissed right in the middle of it.

And Peter
I cut his nails today but he does this weird hyperventilating thing and it triggers unpleasant flashbacks to Molly dying of shock after her operation (moment of grief . . . )

so I only did his front paws. I’ll have to corner him again to get the back ones clipped, but first I’ll have to regain his trust.

One Last Thing Before Bedtiime
I miss my RockStar & I want him back in Canada. Preferably here, in my apartment.

Bunnies on TV! – May 1, 2005 – 8:57am
I’ve been avoiding the Comedy Network so as not to have awkward run-ins with my ex-stalkee Levi MacDougall. However, I think I’ve satisfied the mandatory Avoid Common Spaces rule for breakups, so I’m watching channel 41 again and loving it.

Wisdom Teeth Update
My top teeth have withdrawn back into the gums so there’s no sign of them at this time. My bottom teeth, on the other hand, have undergone great change. On the left, I keep feeling a kind of pressure under the gum and I’m concerned that there might be an impending Situation. The top of the tooth is lovely and sharp — I feel like a shark. On the right, things are going fine, with a similarly pointy tip. I have a referral for a dental x-ray, but my innate Let Nature Be tendencies don’t like the idea of an x-ray. So I’ll just wait until it hurts. Yes, that’s definitely more civilised.

Sticks & Avoiding Them
Normal homes don’t have chewed up, pointy sticks protruding from under couches, chairs, and beds. I’m fairly sure of this.

My Future – May 2, 2005
Sadie the Tarot Card Reader told me some neato stuff yesterday. The weird part was that she uses the same deck that I do, so I had my own interpretation of the cards. Whenever I try to read my own cards (which you aren’t supposed to do) I get the same ones, and they’re always the crappy “Hard Work” cards. I’ve always thought that the deck was telling me to fuck off. BUT I got the same cards with Sadie, and she interpreted them as “Creative Potential” and “Trying to find an outlet for your message” which I like infinitely better.

Also, I pulled The Tower which means Sudden Lightning-Bolt Traumatic Incident and I was VERY interested to see how she’d spin it. Apparently the foundations that I’ve laid thus far will come apart and my life will be entirely different from what I’ve already established. That’s not so scary.

I Am Not Obsessing
Exactly how long does it take to go to California, see a concert, arrive back home, and take a ferry to Victoria?

Writing to Ryan – May 2, 2005
Come home!!!!!

Tent Caterpillars! EW! – May 3, 2005
I’ve never considered tent caterpillars significant, but while walking this morning I noticed clumpy shit-like gobs in the tree branches and finally I realised that these gobs were not in fact shit, but rather cobwebby nests covered in furry caterpillars. EW.

So I tried to avoid walking under the branches, since caterpillars might fall on me, but that’s very difficult to do in Uber-Green Victoria. I battled a panic-attack, and survived. Again, ew.

Coxswain AND Rowing SuperStar – May 4, 2005
One of our rowers didn’t show up yesterday so I was Bow Seat #3 and I got to row for the first time ever. Aside from being certain that the oar would knock me into the disgusting sewage waters of the Gorge Waterway, I had a great time. (And I was never knocked into the disgusting Gorge sewage water.) I’m getting all sunshiny from our practices, and I feel pseudo athletic, plus I’ve been jogging a fair bit — I’m strangely healthy these days.

As for the Running
I always thought it was a consipiracy among masochists, the whole “Running Feels Good” thing, but I’m starting to like it. Maybe this is because I get a chance to listen to my Eminem CDs without any distractions, which then lets me notice more smart subtleties in the songs . . .

Being a Writer & Zen
You can be a writer/artist without ever writing/creating anything. My (expensive) years in UVic’s writing program were about BEING a writer as much as WRITING. I mean, listening & watching & being still & ruminating & asking & taking notes & trying to explain what you see to other people. It’s about being present, and noticing how amazing it is that EVERY SINGLE BLADE OF GRASS LOOKS A LOT LIKE EVERY OTHER BLADE OF GRASS — CRAZY COINCIDENCE????? “Wonder” kinda describes it.

And then, during and after five years of being taught to be A Writer (aka Live in the Present), my counselors & doctors kept suggesting that I learn meditation, yoga, study Buddhism, read up on the power of Breathing . . . which is the same thing. Sort of. Except that my Writer Version Of Being doesn’t involve religion or spirituality, except in the whole Wonder At the World sense.

This is just another example of me inventing something that’s already been patented. Like iPods. Like bars. Like themed Monopoly. Goddamn.

I’m Mentioning My Sister – May 4, 2005 – 5:54pm
AND SHE’S HAVING A BABY!!! And it’s a boy. They’re going to name him Jared Robert Babich.

I was just the usual proud, stunned, et cetera until I saw the ultrasound picture today, and The Thing inside my sister’s gut actually looks like a human being. It was the creepiest thing ever. Like a Real Life Sci-Fi Alien Beast. Also, he’s beautiful. Evy & Jared will be amazing parents, partly because they have a really healthy sense of humour, but also because there’s so much freaking love in our family.

Bureaucracy
Usually I’m immune to its effects, since we work independently of the ministry, but today we had training that was Uber-Governmental and I’ve had to accept that I hate bureaucracy. I hate the stupidy, the “I’m following the ass in front of my face” mentality . . . and I’m REALLY grateful that my normal work environment manages to avoid that . . . aroma . . . and also that I am NOT a government-lifer. One day, free from the bonds of student debt, I will fly free and be a starving writer, like I’m meant to be.

And the Need For Escape
Aries nature, perhaps. Or it’s spring and I have no one to cuddle with in bed. Whatever, I’m restless and need to have an adventure ASAP. Jessie and I are planning a spontaneous runaway up island. (This epitomizes the terrible beauty of being a young adult, sans responsibilities, but with responsibilities: planned spontaneity. How sad.) The running thing has been a pleasant escape from the static boredom of rainy winter, but now I need a REAL escape. Something involving mad driving on an empty highway, loud girly music, no showers except for frigid water skinny-dips, and meals of smoked salmon in newspaper. No crackers. You know, back to nature. Bestial and such.

Oops – May 5 2005 – 8:37pm
I laid down for a little nappy nap after work today, and my alarm didn’t work (aka didn’t wake me up), and I ALMOST missed my rowing practice. I ended up Victoria Taxi-ing it down to the gorge, and luckily our team captain Rueben was looking out for me on the dock because our whole team was practically in the boat and ready to go. I felt like a total gomer. And then, everything was going well — I was yelling the right things — but then we smashed oars with another boat. Personally, I accept only 50 per cent of the blame for this, due to our coach who was directing us at the time.

Regardless of all incidences, it was SO MUCH FUN and everyone did well. I’m still learning how to properly project my voice in the boat, and I had a lot of trouble relearning port/starboard after having the terms reversed when I was rowing last Tuesday. It was blue sky and sunshine, and dinner tasted extra great, and now I’m watching New Waterford Girl on CBC. I love this movie.

Future Plans
Liv called and asked me on a girly date, so I’m meeting her at 4 tomorrow and we will eat sushi and/or drink martinis and/or browse for books, et cetera. Also, Q is having a party Saturday, which is really just an excuse for us all to forget about work because I’ve started dreaming about newspapers, and it’s been a tough week for Jessie’s clients, and we ALL need a vacation ASAP. Sunday is Momma’s day, so I will send my momma love all day, on the hour.

And About This Whole Love Thing
It’s summertime now, and I don’t know if my Sexy Crazy RockStar ArtistMan will even let me know when he’s back in Canada, so I’m just going to run around the block a lot, and drink cider, and row row row my boat, and work, and bond with Q & Jessie & Liv, and compile a package o’ love for Momma Evy, and love my rabbits, and write my next Brilliant Play/novel/story/what-have-you.

And if a Smart & Sexy Richmond RockStar happens to appear on my porch one day, that’d be really nice.

Writing to Ryan – May 5, 2005
I want to go on a picnic.

RESTLESSNESS – Friday, May 6, 2005 – 8:41pm
AAAAGGGGGGGGGHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.

Liv is Super Dooper
I was exhausted after work. Early hours all week + two rowing practices + later nights + sunshine warm weather = me practically asleep at 2:35pm. Liv was sympathetic and let me cancel our girly date plans. Instead of sushi and books, I bought some pjs and slept for 3 hours on Q’s couch. Then Q came home and we took Celeste for a walk on Dallas Road, where she flirted relentlessly with a number of small doggies. Then we bought old pepperoni pizza from Village’s and ate it and now Q is napping and I AM RESTLESS, waiting to go see some dick-flick at 10pm.

I NEED AN ADVENTURE
My dreams are getting weirder and more work-focussed and more difficult to distinguish from real life. This is sketchy. I need a break.

Possible adventures include:

running away up island with whomever has a car and/or the will to travel with me;
falling madly in love with some random (but worthy) man who lives in Victoria and therefore is around to entertain me;
writing the Great Canadian Novel;
adopting a new neurosis or psychological disorder, which has always provided amusement in the past;
moving;
having a baby (hahahahahahahahahahahahahahahaha);
learning something new, like Greek or performance poetry. I’d like to know how to make my own T-shirts — not the shirts themselves, just the designs. Silk-screening, whatever.

Ugh.

Hungover on Mother’s Day – Sunday, May 8, 2005
I had fun last night. Q made Newcomb Caesar Salad and I made spaghetti, roasted garlic bulbs, cut up french bread . . . Lance & Spencer came over for dinner, and they each brought a bottle of wine. Being petite, I didn’t last as long as the boys. Q tried to wake me up on the couch and apparently I said something about how the teachers were trying to kill us.

Anyhoo, it’s a rainy morning now and I’m well-rested (if fragile).

Best Purchase EVER
Yesterday I found these crazy Christmas lights with each bulb surrounded by a fake flower. I bought three strands: 2 maroon rose strands and one sunflower strand. One of the rose sets is now above my kitchen sink, and it looks so pretty. I’m contemplating where to put the others. Rabbit-accessibility is a concern, due to Peter’s affection for electrical cords. If there had been more than three I would have covered my whole house. Also, you can use them outside too. PRETTY.

And Now, Politely Waiting For Q to Wake Up
I want to go home and make a pot of tea. I’ve inadvertantly spent both weekend nights here at Q’s, and that always leaves me feeling displaced. I need Heather-scale surroundings! I need my tea cosy and favourite nammies! I need Peter to be under my bed! It’s raining and I don’t have proper rain clothes . . . I might have to risk it.

Mallrats on VHS – Sunday, May 8, 2005 – 5pm
Sometimes I’m in the mood to watch Kevin Smith, and sometimes I’m not. The acting, dialogue, and premise are alternately painful and brilliant.

I briefly considered falling love with Jason Lee, a Kevin Smith constant and (ex?) pro-skateboarder. (I already have his autograph, thanks to Q & Rachel who caught him on the ferry one day.) But I’m tired of the whole love/stalking thing . . . I’d really like an actual, living man to adore me. That’d be a pleasant change.

Side Effects May Include
I still feel icky from last night. Once home, I slept and half-watched my movie, ate some pesto fettuccini, swiss cheese & pickles, showered, changed into clean pjs . . . I drank a pot of tea, well aware of the risk: either the caffeine would decimate my headache or make it worse. My hands are shaky and sweaty, and I feel extremely unsexy as a result. Goddamn drinking.

Bunny Loving
And Peter’s ignoring me. Here it is, Mother’s Day, and I’m getting nothing from the three living creatures that I feed, water, and love. Ungrateful rodents. I hope he’s okay. He hasn’t been very friendly since his pedicure, and I’m a little worried that he’s hiding some sort of wound or trauma. Bunnies do that — they feign health so they don’t get picked off by the wolves. It makes it very difficult to be a Bunny Mom.

Not My Wittiest Day
Blah. How come I’ve finally got this whole work-money-writing-independence-friends thing together, and now I just feel gross & want to run away? I remember being so excited, back in the age-thirteen-highschool years, about being a grown up and writing, and having my own income, and surrounding myself with things that I think are AMAZING & BEAUTIFUL and now I’m here. It’s the strangest thing. Time just keeps on trucking. But I don’t know what I want now, since I have most of the things I’m SUPPOSED to want, and most of the things that I can control. Sadie the Psychic pulled The Tower during my tarot reading (actually, I pulled it) and I’m starting to crave the lightning, foundation-shaking trauma that it portends. GIVE ME SOMETHING NEW.

(Knock on wood, as I really don’t want to be unemployed and struggling with student loan debt again . . .)

GIVE ME SOMETHING NEW BUT NOT FINANCIALLY TROUBLING.

Maybe I need to take a class or something.

Motherly Wisdom on Mother’s Day – May 8, 2005 – 8:36pm
Mom solved my headache with some EXCELLENT motherly advice: drink another cider.

All better! Yay!!!!!

Writing to Ryan – May 8, 2005
I’m making this more complicated than it has to be — silly Twit that I am — so just get on that fucking ferry and come visit. I will not seduce you. I want to know why I am in love with you when we’ve never had a proper conversation. I want to know if I can keep loving you, or if I should move on to Ben the Neighbour or whomever happens to fall in love with me next. I HATE feeling un-special, and I won’t be able to tolerate this much longer! Gees.

Bunny Loving: Caught in the Act – May 9, 2005
I checked on Seamus & Caramel this morning, and they were on the outside couch, with Seamus straddling Caramel in his “C’mon, let’s have sex, honey bunny” style. He was licking the top of her head (aka grooming) and her eyes were closed. I knew that eventually Seamus would try to take things “to the next level” so I stopped watching (out of respect for their privacy). Bunny foreplay. It’s a beautiful thing.

Meanwhile, Peter Just Keeps on Eating – May 9, 2005
And yet, he doesn’t get any fatter. I think he’s losing weight. Or it’s just his winter coat coming off.

Running Without Eminem
I went for a run today but all my Eminem CDs are at Q’s so I had to find an alternate fast-paced soundtrack. I chose The Offspring’s Conspiracy of One and the pace was so goofy that I got a vicious running cramp halfway through my route. Stupid punk. I miss my Eminem. Kinda funny moment of irony, though: The Offspring shout out “you can do it!” while Eminem talks about “bitches.”

And a Bitch About Doctors
I’m almost out of my prescription Happy Pills so I called the drug store today to see if they could refill it without me having to go in & see my doctor. They said no. So I called the doctor’s office, to see if they could renew the prescription without me being there. No. SO I waited for an hour to talk to my doc for a few seconds, tell him about the new running-around-the-block exercise phenomenon, confirm that I’m still not crazy (when medicated), and get a refill on my prescription.

AND THEN there was a line-up at London Drugs so I had to wait to drop off my prescription. Despite the new aisles of summer accessories, I refused to wait for it to be filled. I’ll stop in some day this week. Anyhoo, the point is: WHAT A WASTE OF MY TIME. My doctor’s intentions are good: he wants to keep me on a tight leash with my prescription so he can check up on me and remember who the hell I am. But it’s a good hour-point-five of my day that I wasted inside, NOT napping or eating or snuggling with bunnies. Once every three months I endure this test of my (im)patience.

Other News, re: Babies + Prozac
I asked about taking meds when pregnant (because EVENTUALLY I plan to get knocked up — just not in the next few years). And my doc said it’s perfectly doable, with proper dosages et cetera. This is a HUGE relief, because even though I’d rather not risk my babies’ health with drugs, I doubt that I’ll ever be able to not be crazy without meds. Regardless of what happens re: my future mental health, at least I don’t have to worry about a med-free pregnancy, if it’s an issue.

And Speaking of Babies
Today I bought:
– maternity clothes*
– condoms**

HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!

*for Evy, NOT me. Let’s be clear.
**and Q, no snide comments re: my sad lack of sexual prospects. I can already hear you giggling . . . dink.

Inevitable Adventure – May 10, 2005
May 20: SWING DANCING!!!! It’s only a matter of time before I get all famous as a swinger. Or something.

That ’70’s Show – Tuesday, May 10, 2005 – 9pm
When did Donna become blond? When did laugh tracks get so obnoxious?

Unwelcome Mantras – May 11, 2005
These are the things that I say without thinking:
“I am the saddest person is the world.” (This one is easy to argue, since obviously I’m not. There are hungry, unsatisfied, terminal orphans out there with unsanitary drinking water and violence all around.)

“I’m a bad person.” (This one is also not true, since I’m actually a good person. I even give to charities, for chrissake.)

I’ve tried a lot of different ways to make these stupid thoughts go away. Prozac works very very well, generally. Lately, the running keeps my brain empty because I’m so focused on how much my legs hurt, and/or the metaphysical riddles posed by Eminem’s newest rhymes. Short term, I’ve tried sleeping, drinking, having a bath (the worst — just makes the mantras echo), dancing, snuggling with Peter, hiding in my apt, not opening mail, . . . Lately I’ve tried arguing with the thoughts. “I’m not really a sad or bad person, it’s this goddamn seratonin and my brain is making me think things that aren’t true. So there.”

I don’t know if this is a related symptom, but I keep noticing that I’m talking to myself. At first, I just addressed the bunnies, because then it wasn’t TOO weird, but when the bunnies are tunnelling at home and I’m on Yates Street it’s not really an acceptable excuse. Whatever. Sometimes you have to be loud to shout down the static.

An Alternate Passion – May 11, 2005
The UNO Theatre Fest! I’m getting tickets . . . book your Time With Heather NOW to get a free theatre show!

Waiting for Q to Drink a Beer so We Can Go Walk Celeste On Dallas Road in the Sunshine – Wednesday, May 11, 2005
Today has been a good Mail Day. I sent off a parcel for Evy, and I received two thingies in the mail: a cd with pictures of my future nephew, and a horoscope book for those born in the Year of the Monkey (aka me). (I also got something from the states that I ordered, but I want to mess with Q before I reveal what it is. Hee hee. I bought two, but I’m only giving Ryan the RockStar his if he shows up in Victoria to visit me. I’m tricky that way.)

Knocking on Wood
I’ve noticed that when I say I’m going to do something in the future, I inevitably end up not doing it. For example: sushi with Liv last week, but I was too tired so I had a nap instead. Or drinking faux vino in the sunshine because I was done work early — actually, I slept from noon to now.

You know, it seems that SLEEPING is messing with my plans. Hmm. But it feels SO GOOD!!!!!! At least I’m not a crack whore.

There’s Lettuce on my Porch
Kim the Bunnies’ Fairy God Mother planted it and is making it grow. I feel pseudo-enviro, with healthy plants outside my windows.

Once Again, Jinxed By Stated Intention – Thursday, May 12, 2005
I knew it would happen. Q fell asleep and we never went on our doggy walk. Again, sleep as the destructive force. THIS time, though, I managed to stay awake and contemplate the direction of my Next Masterpiece Play.

My Next Masterpiece Play
In third year UVic I had to meet a deadline and write a short story but I’d been reading a LOT of Kerouac and feminist theory and that was all I could think about. Oh, and running away from all the stressful factors in my life and living by a lake.

So I sat down to write this goddamn story that was due the next day and suddenly there was this this diarhea of words — I ended up writing “(Title Goes Here)” which is now my most favourite bit o’ self-writing ever. I want to make this story into a play, because I love it and it deserves to be seen. But it’s a single-person narrative which doesn’t necessarily translate too well onto stage. Monologues get dull, you see. So I’m trying to figure out how to mix it up, with more characters/dialogue, more movement. More special effects. It’s all about the special effects.

Currently my working title is “On the Rag” which I think is fucking hilarious, but sometimes it sounds cheesey and I think I might have to change it. (“On the Rag.” HAHAHAHAHAHAHAH!)

In Other News
I DO NOT want to jinx a certain visit from a certain MWWIAIL this weekend. So I will not mention it.

Generation X – Thursday, May 12, 2005 – 8:15pm
I bought two copies of Douglas Coupland’s defining piece o’ writing. I’ve been buying everything in twos, it seems, lately, because I keep finding things that I want my muse/mentor/protege/MWWIAIL to experience alongside me. Also, I bought two copies of How to Heal the Hurt by Hating because I leant my only copy to Liv’s roomie Jen (or Jean?) four years ago and never got it back. Best break-up book ever. So I bought one for me, to keep, and one to lend. The only part of it I don’t like is that The Other Girl in the book is named Heather and that is very confusing.

Row Row Row Your Boat
Practice was really fun today. Coach Fraser kept saying that he would leave the commands to me, and then he’d say them. Silly Fraser. Also, I got all giggly when I had to yell “hard!” for ten strokes. (Hee hee. Try it.)

ALSO, someone (I think it was Andrew) yelled “Heather!” from the bank today — he was wearing a bike helmet so I’m pretty sure it was Andrew. He’s a biker guy. Everyone thought I was pretty cool for having someone recognise me while on the water.

Schmew Shmew
Okay, hoping not to jinx things: I have a date with Liv tomorrow. YAY! Hopefully sushi. The best part of having a whole bunch of different groups of friends is that everyone loves sushi, and if I stagger our dates I can eat sushi multiple times each week.

Also, I am very pleased (although scared shitless) that TMWWIAIL is coming to visit me this weekend. How exactly do I make someone bond with me and love me and like me???? Is there an established strategy for this kind of situation? I was so focused on getting TMWWIAIL to visit me that I never actually considered what the hell I’m supposed to do to entertain him.

Strategy thus far: I’m going to make pie. (This might be unfair, considering the quality of pie that I make, but I’m going with my strengths here. Alternate/additional suggestions are always welcome.)

Writing to Ryan – May 12, 2005
happy happy happy happy happy!

I am so very glad that you are coming to visit me. I should be too grown up and mature to be so affected by the attention of a man, but pshaw I’m excited and smily nonetheless. YAY!

Consuming Via VISA – Friday, May 13, 2005 – 9:13pm
Liv and I successfully managed to have our date!!! YAY!! We went shopping and had steak dinners and drank martinis — Liv LOVES her S&Ms. Then SuperQ drove us to a family home in Saanichton and I bought a new bedframe. It’s a “loft bed” which means that it’s a bunkbed with only a top part. And it’s made of metal, so Peter won’t eat it, and it’s a double, with is the ideal size for my home. Coworker Duncan pointed out the difficulty that the ladder might pose, when drunk or lusty, but I have an extremely comfy couch so that’s not an issue. Also, I get room for a FORT, so that makes up for any potential inconvenience. What other 25 year old do you know who has a fort????

Anyhoo, it’s a big IKEA frame so we left the family alone to bond and disassemble. Hopefully I can draft a large-car owner to help me pick it up sometime this week. YAY! No more milk crates! I’m a grown up!!!!! With a fort!!!

Also
I’m so sleepy. And it’s not just the cosmos. Peter woke me up at 5am with bunny Ninja kicks and loving, et cetera. I can’t resist a friendly bunny. Also, he’s been growling sometimes, which is his way of wanting to play Monster (our game where I flick his tail and he attacks me). So I feel very attended-to lately. My plan for the next hour = shower + nammies + BED.

Tomorrow
I am making pie. For TMWWIAIL. And for me. And if we can’t eat it all, then I might maybe share with Jessie & Justin & Q & Liv & co. But TMWWIAIL is a young’un, and I won’t be surprised if we manage to eat two whole pies between us this weekend. Also, I make great pie. I could probably eat both pies myself. But then my belly would grow, and I’d have to wear maternity clothes. Which wouldn’t be too bad — like bonding long distance with Evy — but really, that’s foolish. Homer Simpson in a mumu, et cetera.

Heather In Love – May 16, 2005
I was very busy this weekend so no present-tense updates. Here’s a rundown:

Friday: bonded with Liv.

Saturday: Cleaned my dump of a Bunny House. I learned that if I scrub with a scrubby rather than a sponge, my bath tub changes colour!!! Also, Peter’s been living the good life under my bed, what with all his dust bunny friends, but I massacred the mofos and he spent the rest of the day mourning. THEN I got all pissy because my RockStar was late (he missed his ferry – goddamn ferries) so I went for a doggy walk with Q, Celeste, and Lelande and drank Growers to Go. THEN we had dinner @ Ming’s, and my RockStar showed up, and all was good thereafter.

Saturday Night & Sunday until 2: None of your goddamn business. I mean, gees, Love is a personal thing and certainly not appropriate for this kind of public forum. But I had fun and I am very much most certainly in love.

Sunday after 2: went for brunch at Pag’s and crossed paths with Matte so I grabbed him and made him come eat with Q & Lance & Chris & me.

Moment of Surreal Coincidence That Seemed Kinda Normal Since I’d Already Had Such a Surreal Weekend
So there I am at Pag’s, with Q and Matte on either side, and there’s Kent paying his bill at a table!! So weird. He was all sunny and I am once again proud of my transformative powers. We intend to have tea this week. I love my boys. They should start a union.

Back to Sunday After 2
And THEN Q and I picked up my new bed from a lovely family in Saanichton and eventually I started assembling it, and I am a fricking SuperHero because I was lifting/holding/assembling these huge & heavy pieces of steel all by myself. Then Q came over and helped me do the tall bits, and we ate leftover Ming’s, and then he left and I spent my first night in my AWESOME FORTRESS-LIKE SECRET HIDEAWAY loft bed.

Peter’s Feelings About the Situation
Peter is very confused. He keeps skittering around, trying to find his old burrow (aka under my bed).

Oh and Also
I am in love.

Living With a Puzzled House Rabbit – May 16, 2005 – 8:09pm
I feel guilty. Poor Alpha Bun. He’s completely lost in the apt — as if his burrow just went away for awhile and will eventually reappear if he tunnels enough. Open spaces aren’t his favourite, and his usual route from porch to kitchen is without cover and he doesn’t know what to do other than sit in the middle of my floor (where the burrow used to be) and wiggle his nose at me.

New Bastion of Creativity
My fort-area under my new bed is high enough for me to stand without ducking. My desk (w/computer) and other shite fit into this space nicely, and with the neon green curtain I bought today I feel all secluded and intense. A great space for writing and et cetera. All I need are some more of those flower lights.

& a Thank You to My Tolerant Friends & Family
They’ve endured my bitching and occassional bitterness and fury and frustration and grief @ there being no men/man for me on this goddamn island. And now they’re ridiculously patient with my Squishy In Love Giddiness and Coy Hickiness and they haven’t yet told me to shut the fuck up about how great TMWWIAIL is and how he’s exactly right for me and how sexy he is and blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah blah . . .

So thank you to Liv and Q and Jessie and my family. You’re all so patient, and I appreciate it.

Evy “Momma” Walker
Evy just called — she got her parcel o’ maternity clothes today and she likes them! I’m so glad. I was tricky and sent her a yellow shirt so I’d be there in spirit. Also, she looks great in yellow.

Speaking of Family
Q is ever supportive of me but he’s also family so he mocks me and he sent me this link to a video that celebrates gay boyfriends. It’s fricking hilarious.

Also, let me say that I’m pretty sure TMWWIAIL isn’t gay: he cuts his own hair and his boot has a hole in the toe. Hopefully my gaydar has improved to the point where I will avoid any future . . . incidents . . . although I do love my (small) collection of gay ex-boyfriends, and I support any more of them coming out. (Anyone? Anyone?)

Writing to Ryan – May 16, 2005

List Of Crazy Coincidental Similarities:
Kevin Smith, Jason Lee, Douglas Adams & The Hitchhiker’s Guide, Kerouac & co., eyebrows, bleached hair, April birthdays, Grower’s raspberry, anti-cynicism / naive openheartedness, Johnny Depp, cold sweaty feet, issues re: craziness, hot water, Snugglies for babies, love for beautiful people, and undoubtedly more as yet undiscovered.

And Whatever You Do Today – May 17, 2005
Don’t forget to VOTE!

Even if you don’t have a fucking clue, just show up @ where you’re supposed to go and make a pretty drawing on your ballot. At LEAST you’ve shown that you MIGHT vote if you had a fucking clue. That counts for something.

This includes voting for your MLA, AND voting yes or no in the referendum on electoral reform.

This Website is Non-Partisan, But SERIOUSLY – May 17, 2005 – 9pm

“We ran a non-partisan campaign.”
– Jenny Sims, BC Teachers’ Federation

Adventures on the Gorge Waterway
It was raining for a bit during rowing practice and my rain hat blew off into the sewage waters of the Gorge. EW.

Also, Coach Fraser gave me a megaphone today (’50’s cheerleader style) and I COMPLETELY ABUSED my power as coxswain.

And Now
Back to watching the election results . . .

In Other News – May 18, 2005
I am looking forward to: winning the lottery on Friday (my office bought tickets); having a nap; tonight’s final episode of America’s Next Top Model (I have no idea why I watch this — it’s the only reality show I still watch after my UVic-era Survivor/Big Brother/Amazing Race/The Mole binge); a possible quality visit with TMWWIAIL this weekend (which I will not talk about too much, because I don’t want to get all excited and then not have it work out and then have 2/3 months of long-distance separation in which to agonize); and working in gov’t post-election.

Just when my workday becomes a routine, everything changes. While my plan is still to stop this gov’t madness once the student loan has been slayed, I’m nonetheless excited about the next four years, if it takes that long for me to move on. Oh, the drama of an Official Opposition . . .

Speaking of Priorities
I celebrated the election (I LOVE DEMOCRACY) with a crappy-for-me A&W mozza burger combo for lunch today. I briefly considered buying a healthy deli sandwich instead, but what the hell, curves are sexy and I really really like mozza burgers.

Weird Moment of Happiness – May 18, 2005 – 8:35pm
My two favourite girlies are the finalists on America’s Next Top Model. I know, there are other things to be happy about (more ethical, world-peace-type things) but I’m still pleased.

Sleepy sleepy – May 19, 2005
I’ve been staying up too late these days, and now it’s Thursday and I’m so tired. I hope I get to have a nap before rowing — AND tonight is the 2-hour season finale of CSI so I MUST stay awake to watch that.

tv — ew
I really don’t watch a lot of tv. I hate tv — it’s the devil. And now, with America’s Next Top Model over, and the CSI season finale, I will no longer be tempted to waste my time. Until September.

May Long Weekend!!!!!!!
YAYAYAYY! Not only do I get a three day holiday, I also am very excited about all the parties we have planned. Ben’s moving bash is on the 21st, and Spencer’s birthday is the 22nd, and in medias res plays the night of the 22nd, and TMWWIAIL will (hopefully) stay with me that night too.

Drinking the Gorge – May 20, 2005
Most disgusting experience EVER EVER. We were trying a new rowing thingy, and I got splashed with so much water that I was SOAKED and also some of it got into my mouth. I’ve tasted Gorge water. ICKY GROSS EW.

New thing learned: Gorge water = sewage, gasoline, seagull piss, garbage, Georgia Strait ocean water = tastes really really salty.

Also, Coach Fraser laughed at me and said I looked “cute.” I think he’s in love with me. Oh, the drama.

Calla Comes to Town – May 20, 2005 – 10:45pm
I have back-up this weekend! Calla is here to visit with and entertain the Q while I recuperate from a draining week and look forward to seeing TMWWIAIL. Calla has known Q since preschool, and she knows how to manage his . . . needs . . . and I feel like I found a really good babysitter. YAY! A real weekend of rest!!! Knock on wood.

Also, Napping
Kate let me run home early today. This might be because I was sleeping at my desk. Anyhoo, I got home and was in bed by 2:30pm, and then I slept straight through to 6 when Q & Calla picked me up for dinner. Now I’m going to bed again. I love my bed. I love sleeping. I love it even more when TMWWIAIL is sleeping beside me, but I’ll make do with what I have tonight.

Party @ Ben’s House – May 21, 2005 – 9:09 pm
Ben is moving to James Bay so we’re drinking. I’ll take any excuse, to be honest.

Sunday Shmunday – May 22, 2005 – 11:33 am
My momma’s in Ireland digging out our family roots, and Jessie’s in Tuscany with a whole bunch of couples doing the wedding thang. I better get some quality postcards.

And Shmand
So apparently Q’s ex-neighbour Ben won a Beaver-Making Lego competition when he was twelve. That’s a pretty great claim to fame. Also, he’s sorta friends with Sketchy James, the guy that Jen left us for (or we left Jen for), and so both James & Jen were at Ben’s last night. Q had some deep conversation with Jennifer but I didn’t. Instead, I managed to make friends with the only gay boy at the party that we hadn’t brought. I’m a fricking magnet, I tell you.

AND SHMAND
I’m hungry. I can’t decide whether I should eat something or wait until our planned breakfast. That means another hour or three of no food . . . so I’ll eat something now. Yep.

On That Note
Sadie the Tarot Card Reader said that I sometimes don’t know something is true or that I’m thinking it until I say it aloud. Isn’t that perceptive?!

IMR Aftershocks – May 23, 2005 – 10:13 am
I saw Ryan’s band play for the first time last night and I felt like the Best Groupie Ever. CoWorker Duncan told me to look nonchalant and aloof from the audience, so I stood in the back (motivated mainly, I confess, from a fear of crowds) and tried to look apathetic but they were Very Good and also the audience people were amazing to watch, and there was this guy who was taping the show and taking pictures and I was trying to suss out* his intentions — pirate their tv footage, whatever — but in actual fact he’s the daddy of some guy named Adrian and he’ll send the pictures over to the band asap because I cornered him and made friends and asked him to. So I wasn’t as nonchalant as I feel I could have been. AND Ryan gave me a t-shirt.

*haven’t seen or used this phrase in a decade or two. Just for kicks . . .

More Band Stuff
And the audience people were saying things like “unbelievable,” and one guy came in during Hooner’s drum bit at the beginning of a song and he just zoned out and stared right at the stage and handed his Starbucks to his girl. Mesmerized. That’s the word.

Nathan advised me to position my Groupie-Self behind a speaker or something to avoid unsightly hard nipples and other signs of arousal, and on an interesting note I was leaning against a pillar in the back and I could feel the bass everytime there was a deep note. Vibrations are so much fun.

As For the Q
Quinn drove Calla to the ferry at 4pmish, so she wasn’t there to watch the show, but Quinn came by to pay his respects.

QUINN: “These children need a haircut.”

And then he left. But with love in his heart.

Moment of Horror
I thought for a second just now that I was growing Black Ape Hair on my knuckles, but it’s just the marker from admission last night. Ew.

And Now It’s Monday
So I’m going to make a pot of Red Rose and watch Kids in the Hall on DVD (Season one, Episode 19, then start in on Season 2). Also, I started reading the curious incident of the dog in the nighttime by Mark Haddon the other day, while waiting for my ride in the band’s Chevy, and it is FUCKING AMAZING. So I’ll probably read some more of that too. And maybe the Q and I will take Celeste for a walk, since it got sunny today.

Contemplating a Countdown
I might be risking my mental health, but I’m considering a countdown to when Ryan’s band (aka TMWWIAIL) is back in town. They are supposed to be in Vancouver again on July 17th, and might play Victoria the weekend thereafter. Ick, July 17th is really far away. I hate the idea of looking forward to the almost-end of summer. So NO COUNTDOWN. I need a hobby. Maybe I’ll run some more. Or make a quilt. Or write something brilliant.

Getting Picked-Up By the Bus Driver – May 24, 2005
BUS DRIVER: You look very nice today. Very nice indeed.

I’m not sure how I feel about this. Certainly disoriented — I’m not used to being:
1. complimented by my bus driver;
2. complimented at 6:45 am when I’m still half-asleep.

I think it might be the dress. Not only am I dressed like a 25 year old today; my dress has progressively ripped from the bottom up in the past few months, so the slit in the middle now reveals a fair bit of thigh. Inappropriately sexy for work? Maybe. To compensate, I brushed my hair today.

Meanwhile, Back at the Ranch
I dreamt that I missed today’s rowing practice. However, I also dreamt that it was storming outside, so I didn’t feel TOO badly.

Also
I am currently awaiting postcards from:
– Jessie (Tuscany or someplace)
– Momma (Ireland)
– TMWWIAIL (B.C. ferry and/or Vancouver).

And In Other News – May 24, 2005 – 3:39 pm
Q and I had lunch with my new friend Shawn today. I’ve only ever communicated with Shawn via email — he just moved from London, Ontario, and I’ve been trying to help him get a job here, as a friend of a friend. He’s very smart, I suspect. He wrote his Master’s thesis on themes of masculinity in Fight Club. That is fricking brilliant. Also, he’s tall and pretty. And potentially straight (I no longer assume these things). A great asset to our company, all around.

The BoxSpring of Dooooooom
Ever since I obtained my new loft bed my ratty ’70’s boxspring has been sitting in the entranceway of the house, hoping for some poor student to adopt it. Today I have given up, and some guy named Pete is going to take it away for me.

Which is quite ironic, considering that it was Peter the Alpha Bun’s industrious chewing that disqualified the boxspring as a charitable donation.

“Peter”
I’m glad I’m not named Peter. It’s a fine enough name, and certainly the best name possible for an Alpha House Rabbit, but it’s not a very good human name. Too many Cottontail associations.

Oh, Did I Mention That I’m A Genie? – May 25, 2005
I am a Walking Breathing Drinking Good Luck Charm. Hold me tight and rub my belly — I will turn the stoplights green for you and make that wart disappear.

In Other News
I was scanning the news stories from last night and there was one on the Burn Victims’ fundraiser at the Pacific Coliseum, which is where TMWWIAIL & his boyz played last night. And whatdyaknow, I watched it and there’s a quick shot of them doing sound check stuff on the stage. Full on CLOSE UP ROCKSTAR SHOT of TMWWIAIL.

The Connection Here Being
TMWWIAIL rubbed my belly and twelve hours later he’s on BCTV evening news as a PNE RockStar. Just imagine what would happen if he gave me a massage.

Also
I’d really like a massage.

Atomic Vaudeville, Episode #12 – May 25, 2005 – 6:48 pm
This is the strangest feeling. I am PERFECTLY HAPPY. I keep thinking of my group date tonight, with Liv & Spencer & his sister Jill, and of how, in an hour or so, we’ll all be sitting together waiting for the show to start at Atomic Vaudeville’s monthly cabaret. NORMALLY I dread commitments. NORMALLY I get all anxious about the zero-hour approaching, even when it’s for an event that I CHOSE and really want to happen, and I get restless and wish I could just go to bed. But tonight I’m really truly actually looking forward to my planned event. Stressfree. Worry free. Nothing but warm rushes and comedy to look forward to.

Ugh – May 26, 2005
I felt like death this morning. I didn’t bother eating before the show and Liv and I lived up the drunken quota Jessie & I have set. I remember:
– laughing a lot
– the barguy offering to hold the last bottles of Grower’s Pear in reserve for us
– walking CAREFULLY onstage to mix Easy Bake chocolate cake mix in a martini glass
– Spencer getting a special public birthday invitation to have a 3some with the Bush Twins (he loves them)
– eating a BigMac and the Best French Fries I Have Ever Eaten In My Entire 25 Years Of Existing
– trying to write TMWWIAIL an email without being able to see, because I forgot my glasses at Q’s house.

Fun fun fun . . . I can’t wait until next month. It’s their Best In Show episode and they’ll be resurrecting all the best skits from the year. I voted for:
– One Man The Matrix
– Coyote Ugly bar dance
– The Bush Twins’ lesbiams & fembianism skit
– Star Trek, starring Mike Delamont as Captain Kirk.
If anyone would like to join our Primo Front Row Table, please let me know. Jessie will be back from Italy by then, and I’m SURE Liv will come if she can. The dates are June 29& 30 (Wednesday & Thursday).

SUMMERTIME!!!! – May 26, 2005
It is summer outside. Blue sky, HOT HOT HOT, sunshine and everything is neon. In a good way.

When I say that I hate Victoria, I really just mean that I’m restless and bored and want something new. Victoria itself, despite being a little biosphere of non-weather and old white couples, is fine. My discontent is only a reflection of my impatient nature.

Maybe I just need a really good, long vacation.

Deja Vu Conversations – May 26, 2005 – 8:10 pm
RANDOM GUY: Hey, Heather.
HEATHER: Hiya. What’re you up to?
RANDOM GUY: Going to work / home / et cetera.
HEATHER: I’m on a quest to find confetti / french fries / et cetera.
RANDOM GUY: Oh yah. So what’s new with you? Are you seeing anyone?
HEATHER: I’m in love.
RANDOM GUY: With that comedian guy? Levi whatever?
HEATHER: No, no. That’s over. I’m in love with a real person.
RANDOM GUY: Does he know you’re in love with him?
HEATHER: Yep.
RANDOM GUY: That’s good. Does he live here?
HEATHER: No. He’s a RockStar and he’s on tour.
RANDOM GUY: Ah.
HEATHER: It’s a little band, from Richmond. They’re good people. I think they’re in Edmonton / Saskatoon / wherever today.
RANDOM GUY: How does he feel about you?
HEATHER: I think he’s in love with me too.
RANDOM GUY: Oh. Well, good luck with that.
HEATHER: Thanks.
RANDOM GUY: We should have coffee sometime.
HEATHER: Tea.
RANDOM GUY: Right.
HEATHER: Okay, bye.

In Other News
My rowers did really well tonight! We weren’t as fast as we could have been for the time trials, but the strokes were clean and no one “caught a crab” (i.e. got their blade — that means oar — caught in the water). I was appropriately bossy and my rowers said I did a great job. We didn’t hit anything, and I managed to yell the whole time without giggling. I’ll let you know how we did when the results are posted tomorrow. The average time, apparently, is between 130 and 150 seconds to row 500 metres. And Coach Fraser said we looked great, so I expect us to be somewhere on the fast end.

Then we ate pizza and drank coke and I walked home with a belly that stuck out over my pants. Honestly, it’s as if my Government weight migrates around my body. Sometimes I have a second chin, sometimes I look pregnant, blah blah blah. Regardless, I have excellent self-esteem and my chameleon body only adds to the fact that I find the world HILARIOUS.

Still, I’m considering lifting weights or SOMETHING to get my arm-girth under control . . . but maybe that was just the BigMac I had last night . . .

Yucky Moment
I just rubbed my cheek and there’s a salty patch where Gorge Water splashed me, then dried. I HAVE GORGE ON MY FACE. I need a shower. EW.

Jean-Vive the Princess’s Laureat – May 27, 2005
I was walking down Fort and this guy kept diagonalling across the road. Then at a stop light he commented on the sunshine and I concurred that it would be hot today – 29-degrees, I’ve heard – and we walked to Starbucks together. Jean-Vive (is that a name??) said that springtime birds & flowers give his heart butterflies, and he described silky leaves as “tasty,” and then he showed me his sketchbook. It has black pages and he draws in pen & pencil crayon.

There were:

two drawings of cars (one sporty thing, one minivan);
five houses with Escher-like perspective, which apparently all belong to “The Princess”;
flowers (including one drawing of “Magical Flowers”);
one airplane;
one space gun;
one space motorbike;
the console of the airplane: one version included a co-pilot seat;
the living room, bedroom, and observatory of The Princess’s House;
a portrait of his sister, when happy.

In Other News
I forgot until today, but Q and I are going to a schmancy dress-up event this weekend. I get to wear Grown-Up Clothes and be aloof.

Also, I am babysitting Celeste tonight. I think I might be bonding with Liv at some point as well, but we planned whatever it was while drinking at Atomic Vaudeville so I can’t remember what the hell we said.

Movie 1 of 3: Closer – Friday, May 27, 2005 – 11:49 pm
Q said I’d hate it because of the infidelity. I am a passionate monogamist, thanks to my parents (and my inability to multitask), and yes I did SCREAM at the tv when Julia Roberts & co. kissed those other than their designated partners in love.

HEATHER: No!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Don’t Do It!!!!!!

BUT saving grace was Jane Jones / Alice Ayers, the young one. The stripper. She had the best sort of attitude re: love. And she never cheated. At first I thought she was a weenie for being so dependent on the writer-guy, but then she got strong and it is HER version of love that I like. NOT cynical. Open and Honest and Sexy.

And I love it that at the end she’s walking and all the guys on the sidewalk turn to stare at her. Because while it might be because she’s beautiful, it’s ALSO because she’s the best at love and that makes her all shiny & pretty.

Next Up: Sideways
And yet another load of laundry. I have too many clothes.

Heaven = Q’s Rooftop Patio – Sunday, May 29, 2005 – 12:54 am
In addition to my new hammock, we also have a rug and camping chairs and a wading pool (which took 50,000 buckets of water to fill, fireline-style) + Neighbour Ben’s hibachi grill, Christmas lights, another rug, and a BEER FRIDGE.

Needless to say, I had a great Saturday. We grew from me and Celeste, to four of us, to eight, then Q & I left for his Grown Up Rotary Fundraiser Dinner, then we came back to a dozen or so rooftop boozers. Ben and I are contemplating setting up our Christmas trees. Tiki torches. Volleyball court.

Watching Team America
So good. I really love the “panthers.”

And Then, After the Rooftop Patio
Leland wanted to go to Keroake, so we went to Soprano’s which Q & I have never been to. Leland sang “Take Me Out” and it was groovy. Two girls danced, and I cheered like a wild thing.

Songs That I Might One Day Sing @ Keroake:

“Dream” by Fleetwood Man (Q & I do a sweet duet)
“Did I Shave My Legs For This” (hopefully with my boyz as backup)
“Deeper Than the Holler(?)” by Randy Travis (childhood memories)

I love singing. I would have gone onstage but it was busy and the boyz wanted to leave because it would have taken too long to get our turn(s). Also, I have had about 6 ciders today and been awake for 17 hours and I find those factors make me braver.

Life As a Groupie . . .
is pretty fucking dull when the RockStar’s out of the province. I’ve temporarily retired my Groupie persona in favour of that steadfast favourite: Fruit Fly. It’s so much easier. And since I’m getting more physical affection from Leland & Lance these days than TMWWIAIL, it’s also a more practical lifestyle.

Speaking of Lance
One of my most recently-met ‘mos & a favourite . . . he was sunning himself on the rooftop and he took his shirt off. Now, I’m not a muscle girl, but he has biceps that look like baseballs and man-boobs (in a good way). Yiminy. I noticed a lot of the other boyz were having trouble completing their sentences.

Tomorrow
Is brunchy brunch. We go and eat bagels and jam and drink OJ & champagne and devour eggs benny, etc. We wait for one of my various ex-boyfriends (gay and/or straight) to show up. We get our Tarot Cards read, and the boyz compare skin care products, and we gossip about who is where and what’s going on in June. Quinn eats the fruit garnishes on my plate. And THEN . . .

Back To The Rooftop Patio 🙂

Sith Happens – Sunday, May 29, 2005 – 10:36 pm
An excellent weekend altogether. I am sunny and calm and I spent all day with beautiful beautiful men.

After a day of brunch and drinking / pooling / napping on the roof, we went to see Star Wars III – The somethingsomething Sith and it was groovy. I’m in love with Natalie Portman. NOT because of Star Wars, but because of Closer. It was a pleasant surprise to run into her again at Silver City. Also, I liked it when Anikan/Darth Vader got his legs burned off. Haha.

Uber-Cynic
I’ve found my Arch Nemesis. Adam is a young’un — 21 or something, I think — but he’s the most cynical person I’ve ever met. We grate on each other. Also, he smokes.

Smoking & Why I Hate It
I respect free choice, but when one person’s choice interferes with another person’s choice it is NOT OKAY. I choose to drink, but I wouldn’t spike a non-drinker’s beverage. Other examples of inconsiderate choices: rape, murder, theft, and most other CRIMINAL activities. They are criminal because they demonstrate a lack of respect for another person’s choice to not partake in the activity.

Also, to be fair, I don’t mind when people smoke around me. Usually. Most smokers I know are considerate and they will position themselves downwind, and not smoke in closed spaces, and will not ash all over your pizza. Or whatever.

BUT when this consideration is not shown I get pissy. Why the fuck is your decision to harm yourself more important than my decision NOT to? If I was pregnant, I can only hope Inconsiderate Smokers would be a little more aware of the repurcussions of their actions. But why would that make a difference? They don’t want to hurt my baby– Why is it okay to hurt me?

Fuckers.

Anyhoo, that’s my rant. Good night.

Jessie’s Back From Italy!!!!!!! – Monday, May 30, 2005
YAY!!!!!!!!!

AND Justin got a super sweet amazing dream job with Microsoft down in Seattle, which is the best thing ever (for him). We are all very very proud. (I want a Mini Cooper for Christmas, please, Super J.)

Too Many Words
When I’m not writing something big and focused I get verbal diareah (how do I spell that? Weird word). Q thought I was drunk today while walking Celeste on Dallas Road, but NO I’m just FULL of WORDS and they spew out like embarrassing word-farts. I need a good idea.

Or . . . I Could Make a Career Change
I want to be an Old Navy commercial dancing girl.

About Surrey – Tuesday, May 31, 2005 – 3:56 pm
I’m leaving for two days, to go to a work thingy in Surrey. Yay, Surrey. Yep. How exotic is that? Very exotic.

I AM excited about:
– the airplane
– the hotel
– the Moxie’s in the hotel.

And I have a Super Special Grown Up expense account to charge taxi rides, food, et cetera to. So that will be fun.

Bunnies are the best pets in the world, not only for the obvious reasons (??) but also because they can fend for themselves if I run away for a few days. In fact, I suspect they prefer it when they have the house to themselves.

Peter’s Pedicure
I was motivated to cut Peter’s nails yesterday. They are getting quite long and I was worried the new downstairs neighbour would hate me. So I clipped them, despite a lot of anxiety from both Peter & me. He seems okay, though, despite the trauma, and is (of course) eating right now. And I didn’t hear him scurry around last night on the hardwood.

Other Adventures
Tonight is my last rowing practice before the regatta this Saturday!!! And it’s sunny outside, after a day of rain, so that’s good. And Friday I’m playing Groupie with Liv for some band. I have Belfry tickets for earlier that night, so I’m hoping we can do a Culture/Rock combo.

Little Spitfire

March 2005

March 13, 2005 Heather Leave a comment

Adventures in Barbie Shoes – March 1, 2005

I wore my new high heels today: 3-inch heels, a 55-degree arch. They are stunning, but I can’t walk in them.

I psyched myself up, told myself it’d be an adventure, a threshold experience (as they say in feminist theory). But I kept seeing myself as one of those women who get their feet bound as preteens so that their toes fall off, or trying to run from a creepy person but hobbled and therefore taking little ineffectual steps.

Advice, when requested, included:

Jessie: “Practice.”

Rachel: “Take big steps and use your hips.”

Mom: “Mince.”

Co-workers: “Wear running shoes to work, then wear pretty, useless heels when sitting daintily at your desk all day.”

I made it until lunch, then managed to walk three blocks leaning on Quinn, then detoured to the mall and bought glorious, cheap, flat-soled black ballet-slipper-esque shoes. I can run from a pervert in these bastards, and (how liberating!) walk by myself. Funny, the things we take for granted.

America’s Next Top Model – March 2, 2005

There’s a new theme to this fourth instalment of Tyra Banks’s self-indulgent skinny-fest: “Pity Me, I’m a Young, Single Momma With a Baby and I’m Doing This For Him/Her.”

Ick.

The first story was sad, of course, but I swear there were 10 Pity Me, I’m a Young, Single Momma With a Baby and I’m Doing this for Him/Her – s (PMIYSMWBIDH/H). Thankfully, the first two elimination rounds cut out about half of them.

I can only tolerate so much human drama on a show designed to titillate. (That’s not the right verb, but I love it, so we’re going to use it tonight. Titillate. He he.)

Dog Training – Part 7 of 8
Celeste was being so good and attentive, so I had minimal doubts as to her potential success when Sally the Dog Trainer taught us a new technique.

(I wish I could draw a stick figure here to illustrate – maybe on the weekend . . .)

I hold the doggy treats (aka a piece of dead lamb – sorry, Evy) in my right hand, extended out and away from my body. I’m supposed to reward Celeste (with a “click” from the training clicker – a noise – and a treat) when she looks at me. (My eyes, not my hand with the treats in it.)

So I stood there.

Yep.

And I was getting nothing. No eye contact, no sideways glances to say “Hey, where’s my treat?”, nothing. Instead, Celeste sat and fixated on my hand. I could almost read her mind: Drop the treats, Hand. How can I please you, oh Hand?

Puppies were gazing at their owners, lovingly, and being rewarded. Puppy foetuses, practically. But nothing from Celeste.

Anyhoo, I’m disappointed because this only confirms that I AM NOTHING to Celeste EXCEPT A TREAT DISPENSER. I’m being used. For my dead lamb meat. That is the saddest thing ever.

. . . Except for writing fan letters to a Toronto comedian and getting no response whatsoever. (Titillate. Hehe.)

Super Heather Strikes Again – March 3, 2005

Not only did I run around the block, I ALSO did an extra loop around the castle! Yay! And I learned a new thing about running (at least for today, within this specific context of weather, my biology, not fitting into three different skirts this morning, etc.): there is a plateau after the sore-legs, out-of-breath phase!!! And it’s a happy plateau!!! I had flashbacks to when I was sixteen and climbed a mountain with Nate after eating nothing but a granola bar – I felt like I could have gone on forEVER. Adrenalin in a very nifty thing.

I considered doing a second lap, but my writing teachers always said to “leave them wanting more” so I just came home.

Heather’s Marathon Soundtrack
Instead of Eminem I listened to Q’s CD, the soundtrack to Love, Actually. It’s perkier, and more suitable for a spring-y day.

What’s Up for the Warren
The straw is EVERYWHERE. Caramel and Seamus have decided to carpet their porch. In an enchanting – but itchy- pale yellow. I plan to scoop it all up ASAP, since the cold season’s over, before my landlord becomes displeased with me. They sure love it, though – they tunnel and Seamus always has a bit o’straw on his head these days.

LETTER TO LEVI – March 6, 2005

Dear Levi,

I mailed your third (and possibly last) letter on Friday. In it, I argue every conceivable reason why you have not written me back or acknowledged my existence in any way. I’ve also included some self-addressed, stamped postcards in case you’re just too poor/lazy to send a letter.

You should know that I am now a fabulous blonde and I will probably meet a wonderful (straight, unmarried) man here in Victoria as soon as the sky clears. Act now! I don’t want to break your heart and be just another sad joke in your repetoire.

Also, there are cheap Westjet flights available now between Toronto and Victoria! Just a suggestion . . .

Love always (or until I move on),
Heather xxxooo

What Do Mouths Taste Like? – March 6, 2005

For the 2nd time in 24 years I have a weird situation where one of my tastebuds has become usually large and (due to an increase in surface area) unusually sensitive. This has led me to wonder why our mouths don’t have a flavour: salty, sweet, bitter, sour, or whatever the four tastes are. How lucky is that?! Otherwise, food would always be affected by the default flavour of our mouths.

Or maybe our mouths do taste like something, but we’re each so used to the taste that we think it’s flavourless. Maybe that’s why some people have bad breath – because their mouth has a very distinct and unusual flavour, and we aren’t used to it, so we don’t like it.

Peter and My Hair
Quinn kindly pulled strands of my hair through a cap last night – this requires a great deal of patience – and then I dyed it and now I’m back to my summer blond. Around this time of the year I tend to get impatient with the quasi-summer weather and I want to rush its effects. Anyhoo, The “highlights” encompass a great deal of my hair (thanks to Quinn’s OCD) and so I’m REALLY blonder than I was the day before. I love it. I feel like summer again.

I think Peter likes it too because he jumped up onto my bed last night (as he occasionally does) and bounced around like he was on a trampoline. He also sat on my pillow for awhile – I had to discourage him from chewing on my hair, which he loves to do and which has caused problems in the past – but we bonded overall and it was lovely.

And Everything Else
I’ve had a number of adventures since I last wrote, so I think I’ll quickly sumarize for the record:

Work: I’ve signed on for TEAMS, which is an on-call emergency response group that flies me to emergency situations (i.e. forest fires) and then I help with the public information part.

Physical Well-Being: I bought three yoga videos from London Drugs for a very reasonable $4.99 each (I guess yoga isn’t so cool anymore) and I’m going to incorporate them into my exercise regime (aka running around the block sometimes).

Alcohol and Friends, Not Necessarily in That Order: Yesterday Q and Jessie and I went to the annual book sale at the old Bay building and bought ridiculous quantities of second-hand books. My choices included an extra copy of Carol Shields’s Unless, which I love, and a few other as-yet-unread-by-me Canadian novels. Then we had breakfast at Milestones, and then I had a nap, and then Quinn dyed my hair, and then we went for drinks at the Keg, and then we went to a party where all the men (except Q and Justin) did things involving computers and they were NO FUN AT ALL because they just converged around a computer and mixed music and were boring. Then we left and I went to bed.

Family: I realized the other day that if Evy and Jared have a girl baby, and if they name her Abigail as has been discussed, then her name would be Abby Babitch. Say that out loud.

So I called Evy and left a message telling her this. I hope this convinces them to stick with “Walker.”

Namaste – March 6, 2005 – 8:49 pm

I did 25 minutes of yoga today. I’m always surprised that easy stretching and breathing can feel so strenuous. The worst “morning after” pain I’ve ever felt was due to a beginner’s pilates class back in the early days of Fitness World.

I *heart* Huckabees
Q and I rented this and watched it today. Or, I watched it and ruminated on the nuances of existential and nilhistic thought – Quinn had a nap on the couch. It was a celebrity-version of What the Bleep Do We Know?, the same sort of “what is reality?” themes (and/or mission statements).

One character, “Brad” (Jude Law), reminds me of a lot of people I know who are caught up in their daily routines. No time for thinking! It just complicates everything! I must be pretty and charming, all the time, in case you’re watching! Who cares if I’m happy or sad, as long as you think I’m happy!

Maybe that’s everyone? I keep assuming, since I’ve been obsessed with the power of thought and etc. due to my anxiety thingy, that everyone is reading these same books and having these same internal/external/drunken discussions about happiness and what the fuck we’re doing next weekend and why exactly we’re doing it. But then I offer the same epiphany-triggers to friends or family, whoever, and it’s just another book to read or movie to watch or fight to have. I like that about teachers — that they so often manage to find a universal trigger. The best teachers (like Mr. Funnel, my physics/chem teacher in highschool) can jolt your brain on a regular basis, because they are so good at knowing how to make those synapses fire.

I’m sleepy and not being very clear —

Intentions
I have some great pictures to post. Fireworks is tempermental, though, so I will have to wait until it’s happy with me before I can post anything. I have a picture of the M Award Alex made for me, and of the portrait I painted of Peter today, and of my baby bunnies, and lots. Perhaps tomorrow.

Sleepy at 7pm – March 7, 2005
It’s too early to go to bed, even for someone (aka me) who woke up at 5:30/6am. I want to stay awake! Rick Mercer’s Monday Report is on tonight, as well as CSI Miami; I have three new books to read in addition to my existing shelf of “in progress” novels; and a 7pm bedtime is really uncool for a 24 year old woman.

But I’m sleepy and my bed is so comfortable . . .

Intrusive Procedures and How I Feel About Them
I had my first ever not-unpleasant PAP test today! Memorable PAP exams have included vomiting, fainting, crying, and a general feeling of unhappiness. My doctor referred me to his wife, another doctor (of course — like she’d be an accountant or something, giving PAP tests), and she is wonderful. I didn’t even take ativan or drink before the exam. And afterward, I went back to Q’s and made us tacos for dinner. (A healthy uterus, and a good little kitchen whore too! What a combo! Order now, while supplies last!)

Peter
As usual, he’s eating. I don’t understand what he likes so much about these new pellets. I’ve briefly considered that he’s politically psychic, because the new brand is “Martin” but I’m not too sure what the implications of that are.

Why I’ll Go To Heaven
I’m responsible for SO many people working in their dream jobs. Let’s all take a moment and appreciate me.

Portrait #2: Not So Great – March 8, 2005

I painted me and Q from a picture Q has in a frame above his TV. It’s pretty terrible – Quinn looks like a Muppet. It was exciting, though, to use colours other than the grey and black and white I used to paint Peter. And people are tricky — bunnies are just ovals with appendages. I’m not sure where I will display this distressing work of art, but for now it’s haunting Quinn from his dining room table. When it’s dry, I’ll hide it in the closet, or maybe paint over it like artsy painters do, thereby increasing its artistic and monetary value.

Meanwhile, Peter’s portrait has found an extra nail to hang from in the hallway of my house. It makes me smile when I come home.

Baby Bunnies
I refilled their food dispenser, and only Caramel ran out to check up on me, and for a second I thought she’d eaten Seamus, or he’d fallen off the wall, or something terrible. But no, he was hiding behind the water bottle in the upper story of their cage. So all is well. Except that my sweet male bunny is a wimp.

Canker Sores & How to Deal With Them
Occasionally I get a canker sore — apparently they’re a symptom of stress, although I don’t feel stressed out. There are many ways to treat these icky apparitions. Last night I applied some special numbing medicine stuff, but then my face froze and I drooled all over my pillow. It’s probably for the best that I sleep alone. Tonight I applied salt, which stings at first but has usually led to a speedy recovery. I wonder if lip cancer feels like this. I’m very glad that I don’t use chewing tobacco.

This Epiphany Brought to You Courtesy of Government-Funded Counselling – March 10, 2005

Forgive any spelling and/or inarticulate sentences – it’s thursday and martinis are on special at Syn.

My counselor Beth and I discussed the circumstances of when stress first appeared in my life. Namely: money, and a lack thereof at a time when I needed it to pay for university. And then she said, But you don’t have to worry about that anymore.

And it was a freaking Good Will Hunting moment (“It’s not your fault!”) and I realised that I DON’T have to worry about money anymore. I’m fine, I’m self-sufficient, I pay my bills when (or before) they’re due, and I can feel fairly secure in my income level (i.e. even if I lose this job, I’m qualified for an equally-great one). I don’t need to expect family or friends to support me; I can do it myself.

And AHA! that means I can release all the stress, refocus all the energy, and exhale all the worry that I’ve carried around for three/four years about money, and my expenses, and my financial security. Because even though I’m not exactly financially secure, this is about as good as it gets.

Phew.

It’s funny how, even long after the game is done, we still think we have to play by the rules.

Entertainment O.D. – morning, March 13, 2005

It’s Tourist in Your Own Hometown time, and yesterday Jessie, Justin, Q and I exploited Victoria. Our adventures included:

Miniature World, The Undersea Gardens (which wasn’t total crap, as we’d suspected), the Wax Museum, Tea at the Empress, and the IMAX.

Future exploitations (due to post-dated perks) include whale-watching and an exceptionally decadent buffet feast at Kipling’s.

Also, we saw Robots at SilverCity last night — it was funny, but strangely unoriginal in parts. For example, the son lives to impress his father, which is “heart-warming” and “admirable,” and ultimately rewarded. Another son exists to please his mother, who is nefarious and scheming – she dies, and he is emasculated.

ALSO
There are SUPER COOL movies coming out soon — including The Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. (!!!!!!)

Roulette – evening, March 13, 2005

Our Tourist package included $5 for slot machines at the Casino, so Q and I kidnapped Lindsay and went gambling.

We didn’t win anything. It was fun, though.

Also, Q and Celeste and I went walking on Dallas Road, along the beach. SO pretty – blue skies and sunshine – I was warm in a tanktop and skirt. Celeste went swimming and had a MARVelous time chomping on a buffalo bone that Q brought to entertain her.

I’m really sleepy – tomorrow will be busy. So nothing profound to share tonight . . . I’m making a scrapbook in preparation for a summer of adventures, so I might play with that before I go to sleep.

Dinner @ the Empress – March 14, 2005

We gorged. Jessie and Q shared Merlot, Justin peeled platefuls of shrimp, and I practiced my snooty British accent. Two hours of gourmet buffet = heaven.

Jobs That We Do, And Even Enjoy
A game! Yay! Mix and match to connect our ideal employment positions with a favourite friend!

a.) accept calls from cranky, angry, and sometimes crazy people, get yelled at, sworn at, and then try to help them.

b.) carry heavy pieces of wood around. Work outside in the winter cold, or in the summer heat, and negotiate with neurotic, cheap rich people.

c.) stare at a computer screen all day, from 6:30am to 2:30 (sometimes 5) pm. Transcribe hour-long talk shows. Email people to tell them they have a crisis they need to deal with.

d.) entertain small, sticky, germy, leaky children.

e.) cater to the whims of a family with no hope of being appreciated.

f.) be the middle-man between politicians and bureaucrats. Send emails to chasten busy people when they miss deadlines.

ANSWERS:

a.) Jessie; b.) Dad; c.) Me!; d.)Evy; e.) Mom; f.) Quinn.

I’m really not being negative, I just find it HILARIOUS that we all hate each others’ jobs, wouldn’t do it for a million dollars, and yet all do exactly what we love and excel at. (Except Quinn, who will one day be one of those politicians . . . )

The Source
I haven’t received my eBay-purchased Johnny Depp movie yet. Hopefully all is well – it’s coming in from the states, so I’m trying to be patient.

Future Events and Excuses to Be Social
Our St. Patrick’s celebration this year is a BYOS party (Bring Your Own Stranger). We’re trying to meet new people. It’s oddly difficult to think of a “stranger” to invite, considering that we live in Victoria.

Protege Goes AWOL
I’ve been trying to help a guy from London, Ontario, get a job with PAB, and we got to the Follow-Up Email stage about a month ago, but I haven’t heard from him since. Very strange. I think he must have died.

Soviet Canuckistan – March 15, 2005

I’m watching a very old episode of This Hour Has 22 Minutes. SO funny. I wonder – if Levi and I ever meet and fall in love, will we cuddle on my couch and watch Canadian satire together? How romantic . . .

Random Annoying TV Commercials
I hate the Charmin toilet paper ads. BEARS DO NOT USE TOILET PAPER.

Fun With Income Taxes
I’ve spent a good few hours navigating forms and explanations of forms, and I think I’m done my 2004 income taxes.

Sad News: I’m too wealthy to get a GST refund for 2004.

Happy News: I’m still poor enough to get a refund! Yay! Thank you, six months of unemployment and leftover tuition credits! Perhaps I shall use my sudden windfall for a Greek cruise – or groceries . . .

Things Momma Said That I Didn’t Believe Until Now
I thought, hey! I’m a poor student, I live off of $10,000 to $20,000 a year, and still can afford play tickets and alcohol! When I’m grown up and have a real job, I’ll be RICH BEYOND MY DREAMS!

What Momma said: Your expenses inflate with your income.

Conclusion: Sure, I have new clothes and a sexy laptop and happy, plump bunnies with food dishes full of gourmet bunny pellets, but where the hell did my paycheck go?!

Also – March 15, 2005 – 1/2 hour past my bedtime

I forgot to mention that I came home to find my new movie, The Source, in my mailbox! It’s my first ever eBay purchase.

I watched about half of it – up until the point where William Burroughs shot his wife while high on LSD (or something) and playing William Tell. It’s a documentary: I already know how it ends.

It’s a mystery why I love the Beat movement so much. Women were nothing more than sexual objects to read poetry to. The men were open minded about EVERYTHING (race, sexual orientation, art, drugs) except respecting their girlfriends/lovers/mothers-of-their-children. AND YET, every goddamn time I hear a recording of Jack Kerouac reading, or ANYone reading his work, and while watching The Source or reading their books, I feel completely at home. It’s like comfort food, but with sound.

My parents didn’t play me Jack Kerouac’s recordings in utero — my Daddy was only 7 when On the Road came out — so I have no real reason to feel this strongly about a bunch of druggies who shared girlfriends.

Then again, why question this gift of comfort? It’s rare to feel at home in this “mad” world.

New Favourite Quote:

I’m with you in Rockland.
– Allen Ginsberg, HOWL

Doing the Dishes w/ Big Bad Voodoo Daddy – March 20, 2005

I want to learn a certain kind of dancing – maybe the Charleston? Swing? It involves music with horns and a great bass line – Big Bad Voodoo Daddy or something like that. And there’s a special kind of dress. Something that moves a lot. I can either dance with a partner, alone, or in a group – on stage or in a club or in my kitchen.

In the Background
I’m tolerating (NOT watching) Open Water, about the couple who went scuba diving and were abandoned by their tour boat in the middle of the ocean. I’m very interested in how the filmmakers intend to keep my interest in a story about a stationary set of characters in a static environment.

They just escaped a pack of jellyfish. She’s crying.

Peter and My Night Away
Jessica had a very lovely party last night, with wine and some people I didn’t know. We wandered to the Brick Yard for pizza and then went dancing at Prism. I stayed over at Q’s, to snuggle with Celeste, and when I returned this afternoon Peter was QUITE distressed. He was sitting on the couch when I opened the door, and just stared at me. Accusingly. I fed him right away. And then I threw out the single poop he’d left on my pillow.

Open Water
Wow, interesting twist! She napped, floating on her back, and woke up with no hubby nearby, just some sharks . . .

Oh, there he is. I hope they tie themselves together now.

Apparently this movie is one mysterious, below the water ache/tickle at a time.

The woman character is obnoxious. He was supportive of her hysteria, sea sickness, sleepiness – and when he started freaking out, she just starts a fight with him! She is NOT a good character. I’m a MUCH more supportive person. Too bad he isn’t stranded in the ocean with me.

SUSAN: “I wanted to go skiing.”

Belated Sharing of an Epiphany
At my last counseling session, Beth the Counselor made another intriguing distinction for me – she separated the “work” and “finances” parts of human life. I think I’m closer to understanding this distinction than some, since I enjoy my work and also consider my non-paid writing to be work, but still Beth’s revelation struck me. Do people really work, even if they don’t need money? If you won the lottery, would you quit your job? Would you do a different kind of work?

And Finally: Tea
The Empress gave us each a box of tea to take home after our shmancy Afternoon Tea experience. I’ve been chugging it on the weekends – it is SO good. Very strong, but subtle — not as chalky as most bagged teas. I wanted tea this morning at Quinn’s and I cracked open his box — how exciting that I have my tea flavour of the week at both the apartments I frequent!

Open Water
It’s night! And there are really big sharks! This is awesome. I’m going to make some tea and eat sandwiches.

“Intervention,” Episode 2 – March 20, 2005

This is the 2nd episode – the first one was about a heroin addict and a prescription meds addict. This one has a pill popper and a cutter.

I expected to find some understanding with this new series, but the people are so self-involved! The cutter’s dad keeps talking about Jesus and how she should feel guilty because she isn’t respecting her “temple” (i.e. body). Ick.

Quinn just called during the commercial – we’re comparing viewing experiences. I said I just wanted to smack her and tell her to get out of her head; Quinn said he felt sorry for her. Interesting.

Favourite Part of Any Book Ever Written (And something that I think better explains things):

It happens that I am going through a period of great unhappiness and loss just now. All my life I’d heard people speak of finding themselves in acute pain, bankrupt in spirit and body, but I’ve never understood what they meant. To lose. To have lost. I believed these visitations of darkness lasted only minutes or hours and that these saddened people, in between bouts, were occupied, as we all were, with the usefulness monotony of happiness. But happiness is not what I thought. Happiness is the lucky pane of glass you carry in your head. It takes all your cunning just to hang on to it, and once it’s smashed you have to move into a different sort of life.

– Unless, by Carol Shields

Restlessness
I really don’t intend for this to be a gloomy piece of writing! Sometimes we ruminate on happiness, sometimes sadness, and that’s part of a normal, up-and-down life (hee hee, I’m a puppet! Anyhoo . . .).

So, I’m trying to define a feeling – it’s not sadness, and it’s not . . . BAD, necessarily – it’s restlessness, and my first associative thought is Aritha Van Herk, and her book where the protagonist hires a hitman to kill her (the protagonist — a complicated suicide). How morbidly hilarious.

On Intervention, they just talked about self-medicating, in that the addict KNOWS that a particular something – drugs, alcohol, physical pain – works, and so it’s very very difficult to give up that guaranteed remedy. There’s something so pleasing about a truth, said in plain language. I guess the secret is to replace that negative remedy with a healthy one. The strange thing, though, is that these self-medicating addicts at least have an idea of what makes them feel better. If you don’t already know a cure that works for you, it’s kind of tricky to replace it.

Analogy: the room is dark, and you want to screw in a lightbulb, but you don’t know what the correct wattage, style, whatever, is. It’d be easier if you already had a bulb that worked in the lamp, even if it was burnt out, but if you don’t then you have to buy a whole bunch of bulbs and try them one by one, risking sparks and electrical mishaps. And maybe none of the bulbs fits properly, because it’s an IKEA lamp or something. Frustrating. Makes you want to ignore the goddamn lamp and use a flashlight. Maybe it’s silly in the long term, but at least you can read your book.

A Good Start to a Decent Day – March 21, 2005

I got an email from my London, Ontario new friend! Yay! I thought he might be dead, but he isn’t.

The Little Paws Saga
Q “tried out” a doggy named Daisy for 6 days in December, and has been paying for it ever since. For four months, the Victoria Little Paws Rescue Society guy has been dodging Q’s emails and phone calls, lied about the $275 refund check being “in the mail,” and twice stood up Q at an arranged meeting time.

It was a stressful evening, but three and a half hours after this last no-show, “small claims court” google results on the computer, Q contacted the Vancouver founder of the group and all is well (knock on wood). Apparently Rob is a pooper, and a full refund is on its way.

I’m a wonderfully supportive friend. I even made gyoza for snacky snacks!

And Now
It’s past my bedtime and Peter is nowhere to be seen — he might be pouting, since I pet him a little bit this morning and then wasn’t here after work to give him the attention he deserves. What a demanding bunny!

Also
Happy first day of spring! I received my new Tupperware flyer in the mailbox today . . . the new lids are pink and green and yellow and blue. AND I might go to Vancouver this weekend — IKEA! I love kitchen ware.

Last Minute Peter Update
He has shown himself — all is well. Meanwhile, I can hear smokers coughing on the communal porch, and I’m concerned about my babies – can bunnies get emphysema?? Goddamn smokers!

Lamb, Asparagus, Mashed Taters – Oh my! – March 22, 2005

Q and I had dinner and discussion at my Aunt & Uncle’s tonight, plus the company of my Gramma. VERY yummy and pleasant, especially since everyone is living their own adventures these days and it’s neato to compare, and see how utterly insufficient solipsism is, because people just keep on DOING things, even when you aren’t there to watch.

Cranky and Sleepy & Grumpy (Another Triad)
Peter has spring fever. That’s my diagnosis. I DID NOT sleep very well AT ALL last night, because he was on my bed, jumping and tunneling and scratching and sitting and bouncing and running. While I do love his shiatsu-style massages, it’s stressful having to worry about waking up with a bunny hair cut (sometimes he thinks I’m hay, or that he has to groom me). I rebelled at work today, watching Rick Mercer’s Monday Report online, taking a leisurely breakfast break at 9, and gorging on sushi for lunch.

Rick Mercer’s Monday Report
I could give you the link, but why bother when we have google?

Rick was at UVic last week, and there’s a clip on his site with interviews of students. Also, there’s a VERY funny “Farewell to Paul Cellucci” (or whatever his name is — the US Ambassador).

America’s Next Top Model – March 23, 2005

I’m deathly ill. Contributing factors: bizarre work hours, a shitty sleep Tuesday night, a bunny rabbit with Spring Fever, and indecisive weather, which causes me to walk around with bare legs, spring shoes, and heavy wool coats thereby compromising my internal temperature balance.

Kate and Heather B. are wonderful people. They practically shoved me out of the office (apparently I looked like a lemon . . . ?) and I went and slept for HOURS. Then Q and I had our yoga class, and I tried to ride an exercise bike for awhile after, but my balance is wonky and I’m full of snot, so that didn’t work very well.

Anyhoo, so now, well-fed and hydrated, I’m watching America’s Next Top Model. It’s how Alex and I bond, long distance. I want to have a HOT shower and chug some nyquil . . . I just hope I feel healthy tomorrow! Sickness sucks, especially right before a long weekend!

My House Is a Mess
Yep.

And I Met My Neighbour
I’ve been nervous about the neighbour who lives below me – Peter can be fairly noisy, with his stomping and tunneling.

However, my neighbour also has noisy social gatherings. So screw him.

Menthol is Super
Whenever I get sick I run over to Shopper’s Drug Mart and buy menthol kleenexes. If you’ve never used them — well, you should. They are WONDERFUL. The menthol makes my sinuses go woowee, and I can breathe!!!! Sometimes. The times it doesn’t, I can still huff a little menthol . . .

Interesting Perks of Bizarre Work Hours – March 25, 2005

Since I go to bed at 8:30pm, I have to miss the only tv shows I’m interested in: CSI! Monday, Wednesday, and Thursday. So I tape them.

THEN, since I’m used to waking up early, I can’t sleep in past 8:30am. So on the weekends I get up, make a huge pot of Liption Yellow Label tea, and watch three hours of CSI. Since normal people aren’t awake until much later, I don’t get bothered by phone calls or weekend plans.

Heaven.

Dr. Heather’s Prescription
I left work at 2 yesterday, caught a bus home, and SLEPT. I woke up at 6:30, ate some soup and crackers, then SLEPT. This morning I got up for tea & CSI at 8:30 — and voila! I feel a lot better. Nyquil is a miracle drug.

And Today
I’m making a Greek dinner for Q and some of our coworkers. It’s been a long time since I cooked Greek food, so I hope I can remember how to do it! I’m tempted to place random stones around Q’s apartment, and then if anyone picks them up we’ll set off sirens and arrest them. Hehe.

(That was a clever reference to current news – if you don’t think I’m funny, buy yourself a newspaper. Gees.)

MOST EXCITING NEWS EVER – March 26, 2005

Levi MacDougall’s Comedy Now! special is re-airing tomorrow night (Sunday)!

!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

If you are ANYWHERE near a tv, or know how to operate your VCR, you MUST watch/record this miracle of programming. He’ll be on the Comedy Network at 10pm, PST and EST.

I might watch my tape again today, just to celebrate.

Meanwhile

I’ve been ruminating on the nature of friendship. A lot of my “friends” and I have different sorts of relationships, and I find it interesting that expectations, obligations, and levels of effort vary so much.

The Root-Friend
For example: Liv, and Matte. I’ve known each since my first year in Victoria, and I know them quite well (at least, I did at some point). I like to think that I understand some of their primary motivations, history, goals, etc. We accidentally run into each other every few weeks or months, and then stop to summarise the +/- changes in our lives, give new contact info, and (maybe) make actual plans to meet up to fully discuss all the new things in our lives. I’ve met their parents and siblings, and know their hometowns, and am usually somewhat current on their work and romantic status.

The Non-Romantic Life Partner
For example: Quinn. We know each other REALLY well; have met each others’ extended family, have stayed in one another’s family homes, and see each other daily. We have inside jokes and can communicate via telepathy. If one of us is sad or happy or worried, we call each other first, and then the other will support us (financially, emotionally, physically).

The Best Friend(s)
For example: Jessie. We haven’t known each other since birth, but choose to spend a lot of time together and grow together. We share crises and successes. There are still LOTS of new things to be learned about each other, and that’s part of the thrill. There’s a sense that “we’re in this together” and we look forward to being together when (for example) we decide to have babies, etc.

The Others
These are fun, interesting, or kind people that I like to spend time with, usually in a group setting. Jessica, for example, is brilliant and a LOT of fun, but we’ve never had a personal conversation. Justin is a sweetheart, and I like to watch his capeoira performances and eat brunch with him, but he’s “Jessie’s boyfriend” and I wouldn’t know him otherwise. Spencer, my Mormon hair stylist, is a wonderful man to talk to, and a rowdy dancer. I don’t even have his phone number.

The Balancing Act
This is the heart of my personal debate. We are all changing – most of my day-to-day aquaintances are in their 20’s, and so are changing DRASTICALLY in terms of work, finances, spirituality, love, home, personal goals, identity . . . There are exciting, happy, thrilling moments (like when we realise we’re getting paid to do what we LOVE), and there are sad moments (when our relationships are boring or frustrating). There is so much opportunity during these times for jealousy, frustration, self-involvement, neglect. It’s especially hard (and, I think, especially important) to maintain your friendships during this time.

After all, most of us live apart from our families, and our only support networks are the friends we make and keep. Also, our lives are often different from our families. My sister, at 23, is going to have a baby. In Invermere, with her friends, this is a VERY normal and natural step. In Victoria, with my friends, this would be weird. We’re just doing different things right now. And so, having established these networks of people who live with the same “status quo,” we can feel supported and make our deicisions with confidence (or less fear).

(I’m trying to avoid and generalize my concern, but this is my website so goddamn it, I’ll be straightforward.)

The Thing Is
Our friend is getting married, and she’s starting to shed her friendships. This scares me. I’m all for being best friends with your partner, but loving someone in isolation is unhealthy. What happens if the relationship isn’t working? or you need something that your partner can’t provide? Isn’t it a good idea to have friends outside of your “couple friends”? It can’t be fair to the other person, if you rely on that one person to help provide all the emotional, spiritual, intellectual support you need.

A couple-ship (even marriage) makes it even more important to have outside supports. That’s how abusive relationships begin and continue – because s/he has no one to help them get out. I mean no disrespect to Rachel or her man – he’s lovely, too, and I certainly don’t expect them to have an abusive relationship. It just worries me, to see our friend reject her supports when SHE DOESN’T HAVE TO LOSE THEM. She can have it all, her man and her own friendships. And who doesn’t want to have it all?

Conclusion
In my ruminations, I’ve concluded that there is a formula for a healthy friendship. I think this applies to EVERY model listed above:

Energy & Time in Heather’s Friendship Formula is divided as follows:

50% focus on the friend
. . . half of which is spent on happy news (minimum)

50% focus on you
. . . half of which is spent on happy news (minumum)

However, a TRULY healthy friendship should also include 10-25% of unhappy news (within each friend’s 50%). In order to properly appreciate someone’s successes/luck/greatness, we need to see their failures, fears, and misfortunes. (It’s like seeing the light because it isn’t dark.)

For example: I feel silly telling a stranger or acquaintance that I got published, but if they already know that I’ve been rejected ten times before then they can be happy with me, and share my pride. I’ve watched girl friends go through negative relationships, and then when they find someone who is kind and worthy, I can be happy for them.

This doesn’t mean that friend-times should be a bitch fest. Note the MINIMUM 25% happy news requirement. But, as so many obnoxious people have pointed out, life = happy + sad. If you or a “friend” is only sharing happy news, then it’s mathematically logical to say that you/they are hiding something, and if these people truly are your friends, then YOU DON’T HAVE TO HIDE IT. Take advantage of these silly people who choose to like you! Exploit the Friendship Formula! Bitch and swear and scream about that fucker at work, and then drink a martini and say how much you love your mate. THAT’S what friends are for.

Anyhoo, I suppose this is a long enough ramble. I don’t claim to be a great friend – I’ve cut off relationships because they were inconvenient, and neglected friends because I was enraptured by a new boyfriend. But I think I’m learning. And I think my BRILLIANT formula, applied retrospectively, explains why some of my relationships have worked, and others haven’t.

Sleepy and Chilly & Content – March 28, 2005
All is well — please see “Letters to Levi/Writing to Ryan” for today’s more long-winded entry.

WRITING TO RYAN – March 28, 2005
Due to various factors, my love affair with Levi MacDougall has ended.

Happily enough, I have now (re)met Ryan and he is a Vancouver rockstar and future Jack Kerouac, and I will be Neal Cassidy (or maybe we’ll take turns – or maybe Burroughs and Ginsberg, since they had sex and Ryan’s very pretty . . . anyhoo) and we will exchange vivacious insights into this mad world and one day publish our correspondence and be the Mad RockStar and SuperHero H-Bomb of our generation.

[A photo of Ryan was posted here on the original blog site.]

For those who are thinking, Hey, that Ryan guy kind of looks like Heather, I say, sure he has lovely eyebrows and he happens to have bleached hair at this particular point in time, and yes I’m an unapologetic narcissist, but he’s also 6’3″ so clearly I’m not merely in love for superficial reasons. Ahem.

That is enough loving for today – I am freezing in this goddamn apartment and I’m going to have a bath.

I Don’t Wanna But I Do – March 29, 2005

I’m so close to going for a run that I have proper clothes on (sans running shoes) and my hair in pigtails. But it’s COLD outside!!!

However, CSI is on tape in the VCR, and that provides a mighty tempting reward. Also, Q will return from IKEA later today with my IKEA purchases in his trunk, and I like to brag to him that I’ve run because he doesn’t believe that I can maintain any sort of fitness routine (which is true – I never have – but this time it’s definitely different).

Okay . . . here I go.

. . .

Done. Well, that was thrilling. Also, I bought two BEAUTIFUL bouquets of flowers today – one is white and yellow, and the other is 12 dozen yellow roses. They are all squashed together in a vase on my coffee table. So pretty.

Q is in Richmond today and Jessie was sick at home, so I was all alone for lunch. I wandered around and read greeting cards, which I strongly believe should be a recognised hobby. There should be a magazine for greeting card readers. Once I wanted to write them, but that path wandered away and now I only make cards on occasion. Instead, I hunt for brilliant, subversive bits of Hallmark Art and send them to unsuspecting (or suspecting and tolerant) acquaintances.

I Hate All My Neighbours – March 29, 2005

Mainly because the guys below me make me feel like an old lady. I wake up at 5:30 am (ideally) and so I go to bed at a stupid time (8:30pm) and sometimes they have drink and music fests on the weekdays. For example, it is now 10pm. Also – and I SWEAR this is true – they say “fuck” more than I do.

GUY: Fuck fuck fuck fuck – bang bang – fuck!

A direct quote. Honestly. I can hear every fucking word through the old fireplace.

The saving grace is that they play (very loudly) music that I like. I guess I’m not that old. Blink 182, Sum 41 – those baby punk bands with numerals. It’d be ideal, if they’d just shut the fuck up so I could listen to the music.

Anyhoo.

Other neighbours I love to hate are the Jehovah’s Witnesses, who have their hall right next door. They take up all the residents-only parking. Luckily a woman was leaving just as I pulled up in Q’s car, so I didn’t have to massacre the mo’fos.

Ginormous accomplishment of the day
I built a set of drawers. OR assembled. Whatever. IKEA furniture is a lot harder to put together than you might think. I had to use four different screwdriver bits. And a hammer. I will post a picture as soon as I get around to it.

Oh, and, saddest news ever
One of my new green IKEA bowls broke!!!!! I unwrapped them to find one with a massively chipped side. Maybe I’ll mosaic something. It’s a particularly intoxicating green. But still sad – I thought about those bowls a fair bit today . . .

Flashback to a Favourite Disclaimer
It’s gone from the archives by now, so I’ll just repeat that I have a Christmas Eve Complex. I’m like the guy on Swingers who gets a girl’s phone number, then calls within the hour and has a whole relationship with her answering machine until she picks up the phone and tells him to never call again. I GET EXCITED.

This explains a lot: lusting after an unresponsive Toronto comedian; obsessing over green IKEA bowls; and falling in love with a stranger who lives in Richmond. Yep.

The Music is Gone
I’m too fucking proud to stomp on the floor . . . kids these days . . .

Sleeping-In is AOK – March 30, 2005

I wandered into the office today at 11:30am, then went for lunch. I love my job.

Sometimes, All We Need Is Love
Independent, Self-Sufficient, Lives-Alone-And-Loves-It Heather is losing it. I’ve finally met that point where I don’t NEED anyone – somedays, I don’t even WANT anyone – in a boyfriend/lover sort of way. But I’ve noticed myself getting bitter! Ick! It’s hard to trust in fate, destiny, yada yada when I’m trapped on a goddamn island of couples and old men and gay boys. I’m in the wrong city.

I’m going to have another drink now 🙂

Post-Atomic Vaudeville – March 31, 2005

My alarm goes off in 5.5 hours — I should go to bed. Jessie and I had another excellent girly night, with martinis, steak, lobster tails, ice cream, shopping, cider & wine. Oh, and we went to see Atomic Vaudeville’s 10th episode, “The Passion.” Mike Delamont sang – it was fantabulous.

I’m going to drink a litre of water and go to bed. Bon nuit.

Heather McLeod

Tag Archives: spring fever

May 2005

March 2005

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