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Little Spitfire

April 2005

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

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

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

MOM: Have you really thought this through?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So thanks for that

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

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

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

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

A Word From Q 
Ugh.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh gees.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Actually, I don’t 🙂

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

Address: www.littlespitfire.ca

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, I almost forgot!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Moment of sadness for a world without Joel Kroeker.

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

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

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

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

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

Yep.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Anyhoo.

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

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

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

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

Perfect birthday.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

okay, that’s enough.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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Quote of the Day – April 18, 2005

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

– Catherine the Great

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

So is everyone okay? Just checking up . . .

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh yah.

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

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

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

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

These are the things that occupy my day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Still, I’m grateful for the prozac.

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

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

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

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

 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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My horoscope for today – April 29, 2005 

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

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

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

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

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

Little Spitfire

February 2005

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Transit Adventure – February 1, 2005 
I was “picked up” on the bus home from work today. He was so smooth that, by the end, we’d exchanged numbers. Why is it that I’m not interested in the men who hit on me, while the ones that I am attracted to are married / gay / live in Toronto / etc.? Also, how could this guy be so smooth during the “pick up,” while I collapse into a stuttering, blushing pile of goop? I’m irrationally angry with this man.

His name is Sam, by the way. I think he’s a musician.

In Other News 
Seamus and Caramel defy all logic. On their porch is the surplus straw from my latest insulating adventure. The straw is loosely wrapped in heavy plastic, with a 1×6 board on top to hold everything together. Every time I look outside, Seamus and Caramel are not nestled in their snuggly warm cage, as I’d intended, but rather perched on the 1×6. They are so comfortable there that Caramel has pooped right at the fulcrum of the board.

Work Epiphany 
Last week at the dog training class the trainer said that dogs need to be “paid” to do “work” (i.e. give them treats if they sit), just like humans. She said that of course she had other things she’d rather be doing, but this was her job, and she did it to make a living.

Astounding. Here is a woman who works all day with dogs, which I assume she enjoys, and even SHE doesn’t feel like working all the time!

I love my job; I love being paid to write and think strategically. But sometimes I would prefer to be in bed, or watching bad TV, or eating Salmon burgers and Maple salad at Moby’s on Slat Spring Island. Then I feel guilty and ungrateful. But if the dog trainer has those moments, then I suppose I can too.

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Water Symbolism – February 2, 2005 
I used to think it was goofy, the clichés about water being so prevalent in literature. It’s just water – why not trees or rocks or dirt? But then I read the Bible for English 409, and learned all the cultural/historical tradition of water imagery.

For example: the phrase “crossing the Rubicon” means a permanent decision, like burning bridges; there’s no going back. The Rubicon was a body of water (river? Lake? Ocean?) In the Hebrew (“Old”) Testament. It meant all kinds of symbolic things once the Hebrews crossed it. If I remembered exactly what, I’d tell you, but university knowledge has an expiration date. Emily Dickenson uses that phrase, “crossing the Rubicon,” in her poetry, and now the Rubicon is an SUV. I giggle every time I see one – it’s like seeing a car called Crucifixion or something.

Back to water . . . I finally noticed one day, while choosing bits o’ fiction for a reading, that there is a disproportionate amount of water imagery in my writing. I’m from Invermere, and my mental associations for water are either really cold glacier rivers or hot springs. Water means Beaver Fever, numb ankles, swimmer’s itch after a drunken skinny dip, sulphur, and fat Albertans with smarmy teenage children. Regardless, my stories include scenes from White Swan Park’s natural hot springs, drinking from a glacier spring, and (naturally – ew) sweat and tears and etc. It’s everywhere!!!

I don’t really have any stupendous conclusion to this rumination. I just think it’s nifty and worth recognizing that water has sneakily snuck (“sneakily snuck”???!) into my/our subconscious. Womb warmth, sustenance, rebirth, purification, comfort. And now I’m going to have a bath.

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Cuticles? What cuticles? – February 3, 2005 
I got my first ever manicure today. My nails are beautiful and feel like satin. Thank you, Jessie.

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Confession of Side Effects – February 5, 2005 
I write this knowing that

  1. Quinn (and potentially others) will admonish me for this; and
  2. Quinn doesn’t read my site on the weekends.

Due to certain factors, specifically my own laziness, I haven’t taken my anxiety meds for three or four days now. The problem with anxiety meds is that they are so effective that I feel 100% better when medicated, and therefore I have trouble believing that anything “bad” happens when I’m not medicated. I’ve been cured! Hurray! As a result, refilling my prescription is not a huge priority. (This reflects my desire to be independent of meds, I’m sure – I’d rather not take drugs in order to function.)

Anyhoo, the gradual effects of withdrawal have been building up for a few days now, and I’m starting to clearly remember why it is that I take the meds in the first place.

First Side Effect: I get angry and want to hit those who annoy me. Usually strangers. Usually drunk men.

Second Side Effect: My dreams are very vivid. I am confused as to what has actually happened in reality, because the dreams are so detailed and fraught with anxiety. For example: this morning I had no idea how to check the voice mail messages on my phone, because I clearly remembered punching in different passwords without it ever working. I wake up feeling like I’ve just fought with someone I love very much. And maybe I’ve killed my bunnies.

Third Side Effect: I can’t stop thinking. It’s like driving with a small hyper child who narrates everything she sees. (To be honest, that’s usually me . . .) The strangest part is that I kind of enjoy these side effects. A skateboarder once told me that pain should be appreciated, because it’s temporary and rare and therefore an interesting, unique experience. I’m the kind of person who likes to pick scabs. And the rare times that I find myself in withdrawal, it’s scary but fascinating to see the inevitable, predictable changes in my brain. But I know that this state will lead to hiding in my house, and not being able to answer the phone or talking to anyone or going to work. So the strategic part is getting down to the drug store before I feel that need to hide. It’s like playing chicken with my chemistry.

Perhaps this is partly why I’m so confused by people who use drugs. It’s exciting, sure, but given a choice I’d prefer to not ever feel this way. I hate knowing that I can’t control it. It’s like people with 20/20 vision closing their eyes when they walk along a highway.

On a Happy Note 
I have a pot of tea, lots of milk, a loaf of bakery-fresh rye bread for breakfast, and an energetic bunny renovating my couch. This is my favourite way to spend Saturday morning.

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Garden State – February 6, 2005
I might be pushing this interpretation, but Garden State (the movie with/by the guy from Scrubs ) has some sketchy parallels to Hamlet.

For example:
Rosencrantz & Guildenstern + the grave diggers = the hometown guy friends.
“Newark” = Denmark
Samantha = Ophelia, the crazy girl friend
Scrubs guy = Hamlet . . . actually, he’s not. Hamlet thinks but doesn’t do anything; the Scrubs guy does things but doesn’t feel anything.
The “silent Velcro” guy = Hamlet, kind of – rich but inactive – but he’s such a minor character . . .

And then you have the plot, with the dead parent, and the revelation about those circumstances . . . the incest aspect is covered via Rosencrantz, whose momma sleeps with a guy his age . . . and the themes of disease (“There’s something rotten in the state of Denmark”) are nicely dealt with via the psychologist dad, Sam’s epilepsy, Scrubs‘s medication, the mom’s paralysis, the dead hamster . . . and, speaking of pets, all the graveyards scenes! The water where Ophelia drowns could be the pool, but it’s the Scrubs guy who can’t swim, and Sam does just fine. Oh! It could be the bathtub, but then the mom = Ophelia. Hmm. Maybe it’s more the themes and plot that parallel – the Hamlet characters seem to be fragmented. Regardless, an interesting film.

Re: the whole medication aspect of the movie, I find that a lot of movies about meds seem a little one-sided and righteous. The person (usually a weak stand-in for the neurotic screenwriter) is mentally ill and medicated, but “chooses to feel” and so goes off his/her meds with minimal side effects. (The movie ends before they go crazy again and run, hysterical, back to their doctor.)

Lesson Learned 
Quinn reads my site on the weekends.

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Ohimigod ohmigod ohmigod – February 7, 2005 
Spencer cut my hair today after work! I love it. For some reason the hair on the back of my head tends to grow unreasonably quickly, and I live in fear of the inevitable mullet. But Spencer swooped in just in time, and now I’m trimmed and neat and “broomsticky,” which is the look we’re going for. Like that chick who sings “Kiss Me,” in 6 Pence None the Richer or some band like that. I can’t wait to wash it. That’s the best part after a hair cut, when you lather up the shampoo and then – hey! Where’d the hair go? Yep.

In My Mailbox 
No, not a letter from Levi. Blue Cross sent me my cards for extended health and dental benefits, beginning March 1. Now I can get my wisdom teeth yanked out, if I have to, and still afford rent! Very exciting. There must be a way to get massages covered.

Maybe that’s why society has/had that whole “choose a career or choose a family” thing for women – either I need a man to rub my back, or I can get my employer to pay a professional to do it.

My Dream 
Our floor at work is buying lotto tickets. If I won, I’d open a tea shop and bake ginger snaps and pie and serve great tea. I wouldn’t run it myself, but I’d sit at a table and drink tea and write all day long. Ironically, I don’t need to win the lotto to do this. So once I’ve paid off my loans, etc., that’s the plan.

And Finally 
I’ve realized that a perk of my massive student loan debt is that I get to claim the interest I pay as Income Tax credit. So that’ll make my 2004 claim extra exciting.

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The Warren – February 8, 2005 
I don’t know if all bunnies are as spoiled and demanding as mine, but Seamus, Caramel and Peter are very picky about their food. Pellets, specifically, which is where they get their protein and etc. A few years ago they refused to eat the same brand, and so I would visit two separate stores (Safeway and the holistic pet store at Fort and Foul Bay) and buy the blue & yellow bag for Peter, and the red bag for the babies.

(I think Caramel refused to eat anything but, simply because a brown lop-eared dwarf was pictured on the bag and she’s notoriously vain. And if Caramel ain’t happy, nobody’s happy, especially not Seamus.)

Eventually I realized this arrangement was foolish and stopped buying the red bag pellets from Safeway. (Peter is the alpha bun, after all.) Ever since, all bunnies have eaten the same kind. HOWEVER, I was down to my last bag this weekend, and when I got to the pet store they didn’t have the appropriate brand. This caused a disproportionate amount of concern on my part. And I thought, “They’ll just have to eat a new kind or starve!” and bought a third, untried brand.

I checked on the babies today, and they have carefully eaten all of the old-style pellets, leaving the new brand pellets in the dish. Peter, however, as the responsible eldest and far more mature bunny, has eaten everything in his dish. THAT’S why he lives inside with me.

On Another, Less Rabbitty, Note 
I had so many letters in my mailbox today! Sure, there was a bill and one stupid credit card ad thingy, but the very fact that there were five is exciting. None, needless to say, from Levi MacDougall. I’m starting to doubt that he’s worthy of my affections.

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My Hands Smell Like Meat – February 9, 2005 
We used lamb meat for dog training tonight. (I’m sorry, Evy – it was already dead and packaged.) Celeste is a great student. She can sit and stand and pirohuette into a lie-down, and is learning to heel. Next week they’re going to have a skateboard there, to see if she attacks it.

Little Red Riding Hood 
There’s a crossing guard on the route to my bus stop, and today she said it makes her happy whenever I wear my red coat. Apparently being a crossing guard for preteens creates a specific kind of job anxiety – she’s reassured that drivers will see me and stop.

Another Countdown 
Alex will be here on the 17th! Yay!!!!!

And Finally: Canadian Television 
To be fair, I don’t know if Medium is a Canadian creation. But it really sucks. The dialogue is painfully flat and self-conscious. Ironically, the images and the violence are so real that it’s truly scary to watch the show. After the first nightmarish (in so many ways) episode, I wasn’t going to watch it ever again, but I have a weakness for mystery shows and the protagonist has bangs, which I support . . .

Also, Corner Gas. I don’t get it. Do other people think it’s funny???

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The Terrible Psychic – February 11, 2005 – 8 am 
Details will be posted later today . . . I came home last night late and drunkish, and now I am off to work, so no time for particulars! Teaser: fencing and shopping were involved . . .

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The Terrible Psychic – February 12, 2005 – 9:30 am 
This is now old news.

The Party Pants Book 
Mom sent me a book called Life is Short – Wear Your Party Pants and I now realize that I’m the perfect person. Growing up, moving from hometown to university to government work place, I sometimes feel “stunted,” like I’m still a kid being paid too much, surrounded by grown ups who actually deserve their successes. There’s this one woman who rides the bus with me sometimes, who’s about my age. She looks very professional every morning, with pointy-toed shoes and suits and a leather shoulder bag that undoubtedly contains critical documents. Sometimes I want to be like that, grown up and visibly a woman instead of a “cute” (EWWWW!) girl. But this book targets those visibly-grown up people, who are (presumably) unhappy in some way. It tells them to smile, to pay attention to the small pleasures in life, to see the beauty in a blue sky – essentially, to re-attain the curiousity and openness they had when they were kids.

But ha! I already do this! I take pictures of dead honey bees on the sidewalk, for Christ’s sake. I love manure season in Victoria, when the city workers put fertilizer in the plants and EVERYTHING smells like shit. Sure, I can become a moron around men I’m attracted to, but sometimes I also get exactly what I want, just because I ask for it. The other day I saw my bus-mate wearing very nice grey pants. I am fairly certain that they are the exact same pair that I own. And then I got off the bus, and saw myself reflected on a glass wall, and there was my broomstick hair and corduroy bag, and the green scarf from my Gramma, and now I see that I’ve chosen to be this way (to stay this way?) and that it’s a better way to be – at least for me.

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TODAY IS THE DAY!!!!! – February 13, 2005 
Levi MacDougall’s comedy performance airs TONIGHT on the Comedy Network!!!! It’s at 10 pm here in Victoria, but check your local (Invermere, Ottawa) guides: it’s listed under The Comedy Network Presents or something —- a Comedy Now! special.

We are still having a Levi party, even though 10 pm on a Sunday isn’t realistic for those of us who work early on Monday. Rachel has suggested it be a “support Heather in her love of Levi” party, which I think sounds perfect. I might even bake pie.

Also, I will DEFINITELY be taping the show tonight, so let me know if you miss it. I’ll happily provide a copy. This might be the final act of love in my relationship with Levi. (So sad . . .) He’s not the man I thought he was; his lack of spontaneity and adventure is disappointing.

Dreamweaver & Other Adventures
You might have noticed that my site is a pretty blue & yellow as of today. I’ve figured out the part in Fireworks/Dreamweaver where I can make the site and upload it to the internet — there are (of course) a few bugs, like bizarre gaps between the buttons on the left on some pages. If anyone has suggestions, please tell me. I’m just proud of having figured out the upload thing!

Yesterday I wanted to go dancing but also wanted a long hot bath and to snuggle with Peter. Compromise? I dressed up, did my Mac makeup, put my favourite red dye in my hair, and danced to Big Bad Voodoo Daddy while doing the dishes.

Peter was in a strangely friendly mood (it’s spring, after all — bunny mating season) and we rubbed noses and cuddled on the couch. He gave me a mini massage by walking & jumping on me — again, who needs a man???

Who Needs a Man? 
First off, if you NEED a man then you’re fucked, because you don’t, really. You need to figure yourself out.

Secondly, I do WANT a man — Quinn said the other day that I should have a boyfriend, but when we drove to the boyfriend store it was closed, so no news there. The tricky parts in the whole “man” area are as follows:
– I’m picky. I don’t settle. I’m also very independent and there’s a fine balance between closeness and smothering.
– There is a limited number of straight, single, quality men on this stupid island. The ones I HAVE met aren’t the one(s) for me. That leads to very unfavourable odds.

Conclusion: yet again, I will hold a Find Heather Some Booty contest. Those who know me know what I want: height, personality, strength, intelligence, ambition. The winner will receive dinner and my thanks!

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February 15, 2005

Dear Levi,

thank you for the lovely flowers. You are a good person. Even though you’ve never written to me.

Love,
Heather xxxooo

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And Then She Remembered She Had a Website! – February 15, 2005 
The last time I was home and NOT asleep was awhile ago, so I shall recap.
1. I lost my digital camera.
2. I drank martinis and ate steak for Valentine’s with some lovely, smart people, including my gay Mormon hair stylist who looks exactly like Brad Pitt in Legends of the Fall.
3. I learned that my friend and once-boyfriend is dating a couple.
4. I baked lemon meringue pies and they tasted yummy.
5. I found my digital camera.
6. I was nominated for an “M” Award in the category of Best New Play (for The Terrible Preservation of Valentine Pilate).

AND . . . I GOT FLOWERS FROM LEVI ON VALENTINE’S DAY! But here’s the thing — they were delivered to me at work, and Levi has no way of knowing where I work. That is, I’ve never mentioned it in my letters. The only way he could have found out would be via a search on google.ca, via which anyone can find my work address. Even then, there are two of us who work in the same place . . . Jessie’s theory is that Levi is stalking me. This doesn’t bother me, as long as he’s pleasant about it. And if he writes me a letter, I might even write back!

Levi’s show on Sunday night was WONDERFUL, and I am infatuated all over again. If anyone can hook me up, do it.

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What the Bleep Do We Know? – February 16, 2005 
I watched a nifty movie last night with Q and Andrew – What the Bleep Do We Know? at Cinecenta. I found it more helpful than my counsellor. Considering that one of the interviewees was a dead woman, channeled through a psychic, that’s not so great.

I liked the idea that traditionally flakey notions of “positive thinking,” meditation and mantras are supported by quantum physics. I still have those nasty social assumptions that science is more valid than spirituality.

And I like the idea that I can “test” the theories they discussed, just by “creating my day” in the morning and then seeing what happens has a result.

Work 
Today was my sixth month anniversary of writing for the government! Very exciting. No flowers or fancy certificates, though. As a result of waking up at 5:30 a.m., however, I’m sleepy and useless. I’m ready for bed — Alex comes to Victoria tomorrow!!! YAY!

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What the Bleep Do We Know? – February 17, 2005 
One of the points this film makes is that physical objects NEVER touch.

When, for example, a basketball nears the pavement, the electrons/whatever repel each other and that causes the ball to bounce back up. There is never a moment where the basketball actually TOUCHES the ground. It’s like an invisible shield around everything. (This means that you never actually touch anyone — an interesting perspective on love . . .)

Anyhoo, Jessie asked (after 3.5 martinis) why, then, there’s a sound that comes from the interaction of basketball and pavement (for example). That is a brilliant point.

Another point: physics does not distinguish between “past,” “present,” and “future”: there is no scientific basis for our assumption that what we do today affects our future.

AND FINALLY, the idea that most human beings (in our society) wake up in the morning and naturally do exactly what they did yesterday — we don’t even think about it, so we just function by habit. It’s like we’re living in our own self-inflicted Groundhog Day.

SO WAKE UP and do something different today! Get out of your rut!!!

Random Thought That Might Cross The Line 
Jetsgo.com has crazy flight sales to out East – I could stalk Levi in person for $176 + tax, return. It’s a testament to my personal strength that I didn’t pull out my credit card immediately after reading the ad in today’s paper.

How I Woke Up This Morning 
It was difficult, what with the bizarrely early work hours I’ve started. I woke up because Peter was tunnelling (or trying to tunnel) through my couch. Once I turned on the light, he did some “binkies,” which look like ninja kicks. He runs and then jumps up, a la Matrix, and does a sexy snowboarder pose, and then lands and turns around and does it again. SO funny. Bunny Capeoeira, or something.

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The Morning After – February 19, 2005 
We had a wee “Welcome Home, Alex!” party last night over at Quinn’s — Alex is visiting for a week or two from Ottawa. Rachel made ridiculously yummy Indian food; even the tzaziki was homemade! Yummy good. And one of our party attendees (Chris, the 30-something year old Pureblood-gay who had a bizarre experience on stage at an Amstardam sex show when he was younger) is an accountant! Hopefully he can show me how to do my income taxes as a Working Woman in the Real World.

Peter’s Bingeing 
Another episode in the saga of Peter the Alpha Bun’s weird spring behaviour . . . as I’ve previously revealed, we have switched pellet brands. Peter LOVES this new kind of pellet. In fact, this morning I noticed the bowl was empty AGAIN, so I refilled it. Peter, who was tunnelling under the couch, suddenly ran toward me, skidded on the hardwood floor, did a U-turn into the bowl, and started eating. I have never seen a rabbit do this. It’s like he’s a teenaged boy or something. Next thing, I’ll be finding PlayBun magazines under the cushions.

I Spy With My Little Lens . . . 
Now that I’ve found my camera, I’m excited all over again about taking pictures. Today was a BEAUTIFUL day — blue sky, green grass, sunshine, and not too cold. I’ll post some new photos when I get to that stage in my Dreamweaver tutorials. For now, I’m just excited to have figured out what “rollovers” are.

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Mom’s Cafe & The Sooke Potholes – February 20/05 
I had steak and eggs for breakfast today, and as a result I think I might have cracked the Dreamweaver code. We shall see, once this is launched online . . .

Justin, Jessie, Alex, Quinn, and Celeste and I walked up to the Sooke Potholes — the part where the resort is half-built, half-collapsed. It’s like a ghost-town version of Whistler, all stonework and high beamed ceilings, but the cedar beams are grey and the frame stands like a big skeleton. The Land Conservancy bought the land (thank god!) and saved it from potential development. This means that we’ll be able to swim and camp there next summer without paying resort fees and fighting fat Americans for the best beach spots.

Celeste ran free, and had a marvy time. I know I’ll go to Heaven now. We made a doggy smile and fall asleep in blissful exhaustian (how do I spell that word??).

Confession of an Obsession 
I’m really not obsessed, I just like it when words rhyme. I taped Levi’s show last week, and I like to have it playing when I do puzzles or play with this site, or whatever activities that need some background sound. I’ve fallen in like all over again, and am planning a ferocious (last?) letter to send.

While I do have a substantial trust in fate, destiny, etc. etc. I also believe that we are in charge of setting up the dominoes so that fate can knock them down. Perhaps I’ll meet Levi on a plane in 20 years and we’ll fall madly in love, but why not write him some letters now?

Perhaps this is only a symptom of my impatience, which my counselor has advised me (most unhelpfully) to reconsider as a character trait.

Impatience as a Negative Character Trait 
Because I don’t think it’s a negative thing. To me, impatience is a synonym for adventure, spontaneity, excitement, forward movement . . . Patience means stagnation, waiting, circular movement, not being in control of my future . . . it’s boring!

Like all traits, impatience can be a negative thing if it affects how I treat other people. But that’s why I don’t put myself in supervisory positions – I know slow workers would make me crazy and frustrated and cranky.

My best and closest friends challenge me in their pace. They think quickly, and they are excited about the future. I have little patience (ha!) for those who ruminate and ponder and rethink and blah blah blah. Nothing in life is that important, to require a pause in breath. Just move on.

(This is one of those entries that I might rethink in future years . . . but that’s the beauty of writing. It enables self-reflection.)

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I Hate Dreamweaver – February 20, 2005 
This is making me crazy. I keep trying different (logical) ways to make my pages look like I intended them to, but then they go online and the buttons eat up space and EVERYTHING IS CHAOS.

A crowd of us are going to go eat breakfast at our favourite greasy diner in 30 minutes or so — maybe that will help.

I Watched Movies Yesterday / This Morning 
Yesterday I saw Chicago (finally!). I LOVE musicals that are that sexy and jazzy and women-centric. In another life I would have been on stage like that, and been completely happy.

This morning I saw My Life Without Me, and Sarah Polley (from Road to Avonlea) is the star — my gal friend Liv is in love with Sarah Polley, and I must admit that I was impressed. At no time did I picture her in a bonnet or gingham dress. It was kind of a cliche film, though. And Sarah kept having relationships with tall, beautiful, sensitive men (none of whom were gay or Toronto comedians or married), so I kind of hate her a little bit now.

When I Wasn’t Looking 
Peter jumped onto the couch and managed to eat the Mute button on my remote.

Epiphany While Walking Celeste Along Dallas Road With Quinn Yesterday 
The sun was out and everything was a primary shade of green and blue, and I am very happy.

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I Sat in the Sun Today – February 21, 2005 
And then I got cold, so I came inside. But first I read a book that Nathan recommended: Weetzie Bat, which I got from the young adult section of Munro’s, but . . . well, it’s not like any young adult book I’ve ever read. Kids these days! Whewee! Anyhoo, it’s good. I don’t want to say too much until I lend it to Alex to read. Maybe some other people.

Now I’m drinking a lovely bottle of Glacier Berry cider. I’m a mountain girl, and I have a difficult time conceiving of what kind of masochistic plant would sprout berries mid-glacier, but it sure tastes yummy.

Things We’re Gonna Do This Summer 
Drink vodka slushies and/or wine in Beacon Hill Park, eat brie cheese and salmon pate and apples, nap on a blanket, play Nerf football, and play with Celeste. Dance at clubs until we puke. Camp at the Sooke Pot Holes and eat s’mores; build a huge bonfire, skinny-dip in the really cold water, snuggle in tents, and cook bacon. Reevaluate our career, lifestyle, and relationship choices. Or not.

Scary Moment in Heather’s Future 
Tomorrow is the “M” Awards ceremony. Alex, Q, and Jessie are coming to support me and feed me vodka. It’s a good rehearsal for the Booker Prize, but nonetheless I’m nervous. Let’s all pretend that I win!

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Bunny Pedicure & M Awards – February 23, 2005 
First off, I will update those of you who I didn’t already email today. I got home last night sleepy and drunk, so there was no time to narrate our M Awards adventure.

Summary is as follows: great dinner, wonderful friends, lotsa margaritas and martinis, “It’s just an honour to be nominated,” “Hi John Gould,” and good night! I am proud of myself for attending the festivities despite my fragile emotional state. I seriously considered staying away and drinking with my ever-supportive homies (Jessie, Q, and Alex), but in the end all was best with me there at a prime table, surrounded by oddly dressed communists, clapping wildly for strangers. I’m actually proud to have been nominated, considering that my co-nominees were Charlie Ross’s One Man Lord of the Rings, which is freaking awesome, and Trying, a play I haven’t seen but which won and pulled a Chicago-at-the-Oscars, sweeping almost the entire Performance category. So I still feel like a super star. Which is, sometimes, the entire point.

And Peter 
His nails were uber-long, since he runs around on hardwood floors all day (and night), and he hates pedicures so I try to avoid giving them. Anyhoo, he hopped up to join me on the couch the other day so I grabbed him and cut his nails, and I think we’re both glad that I did. It’s a surprise now to see him, because I don’t hear him approaching.

Dog Training Epiphany 
Celeste, Quinn’s Maltese-terrier diva lovey princess dog, is probably reacting to my/our expressions of apprehension when certain strangers approach, and therefore she thinks we’re scared of them and tries to protect us by attacking them. Of course, we look apprehensive because we’re just afraid she’ll attack them, so it’s just a vicious cycle. This is such an effective realisation.

Also, we had a skateboard at training class tonight, and it evolved from Celeste growling and hiding and jumping on Q for protection, to her actually standing on the board. Hopefully we’ll be able to convince her that wheels aren’t scary. The trainer also suggested that we put her food dish on a skateboard, to show her that they aren’t evil and inherently dangerous.

One Final Note 
Jessie is going to restart her writing passion, and I am thrilled for her. I’m trying to sell her on the Victoria School of Writing, in July. If anyone has an interest in running away for a few days to an environment of writing and calm and support, I HIGHLY recommend the VSW.

Plagiarism of the Day 
“What’s so deadly about greed? Greed is about a hopefulness for grabbing more out of life . . . an abundance mentality . . . an opulence not only of mind, but heart and spirit . . . a drive for creating . . . a way to express self-love and give to others. . . . greed is A MAJOR SPIRIT ENLIVENER, helping you to BELIEVE AND PURSUE an endless flow of what you hanker for.”

– The 7 Lively Sins, by Karen Salmansohn

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Another Atomic Vaudeville – February 25, 2005 – a.m.
(Tangent: Peter keeps following me around this morning, nosing my legs and licking my slippers. He just bit me – what the hell??? I think it’s a Full-Moon-Spring-Fever combo.)

Jessie and I attended another stellar performance of the Atomic Vaudeville series. Highlights include: the One Man The Matrix, in honour of Charlie Ross; and the Star Trek spoof, with an all-white cast due to limited Victoria actor-reserves, and Captain Kirk (Mike Delamont)’s bum crack.

Also, I reunited with Caroline, “the tap-dancing dishwasher” from The Terrible Preservation of Valentine Pilate.

As For Counselling
Pshwah. I’m losing faith in the healing power of conversation. Beth suggested acupuncture (I THINK NOT!!!!!!), Reiki, and hypnotism as further tools against the Deadly Anxiety Tsunami-Wave. I’m thrilled about the whole Reiki thing — I love the idea of energy and I intend to explore this homeopathic alternative.

Work 
I gave myself a later morning today because my bosses aren’t in, and so I don’t have to make a 7:30 a.m. call to announce the state of the world. Oddly, I still woke up at 6 a.m., which is truly unnatural.

Poetic License re: Spelling, Grammar 
First off, I know what the hell I’m supposed to do. I have a $50,000 poetic license and a job that pays me to know that shit. I’ve consciously decided not to care about spelling, grammar, etc. on this site because I like the idea of a spell-check-free space. Perhaps I’m contributing to the decline of the English language, perhaps I’m demonstrating my own dependence on the infallible spell-check tool, but what the hairy fuck.

Nonetheless, I do appreciate input on those goshdarned words that I have never been able to spell. For example: meringe (thanks, mom!). Phonetic spelling can be both a blessing and a curse.

(Tangent – or new topic? Peter is now skidding across the floor from living room to porch door. I think there’s crack in that new bunny food.)

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I’m a Trampoline – February 26, 2005, 10:21 a.m. 
Peter woke me up by jumping on my bed this morning. Whenever he’d get tired, he’d rest on my ankles. 10:21 a.m. Speaking of which, I was born at 10:21 in the morning on April 12. Nifty coincidence.

Jogging With Eminem 
Q has returned his discman to me, which enables me to jog. I ran around the block today, to Slim Shady, and now I feel like a superstar.

And then I was hungry, so I made minestrone soup, because there is nothing else to eat in my house. The eggs and cheese and rye bread are rotten, and I’m out of milk. I hope the apocalypse doesn’t come today.

Levi on TV 
While stalking (in a nice way) Levi on google.ca the other day, I discovered (via a current bio) that he’s just filmed a pilot for the Comedy Network. EEK! Imagine watching a show with Levi . . . I hope he writes me back before he gets all famous and successful and aloof. That way he can love me because I appreciated him when he was still a struggling comedian.

Also, Nathan was going to smuggle me into the Comedy Awards in Toronto, thanks to his Vancouver-girl who is on the board of something related. But the awards aren’t until October, which is a very long way away. Hopefully Levi and I will be penpals before October, and then I can be his date for the awards and I won’t have to squish into Nathan’s suitcase.

Plans For Today 
Jessie and I are going to shop for beautiful, sexy dresses today because we’re going dancing tonight. I’m thinking of something strapless, to accentuate my new boobs.

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Family Contact & Funny Moments – February 27, 2005 
My little sister Evy called me this morning, which was lovely as always. I find it hilarious every time we talk, because our worlds have become so incredibly different in the past few years.

Example: Evy asked what I was up to, what was new, so I told her about the sexy grown-up dress I bought yesterday to wear dancing, and I said I was drinking hot chocolate and working on my play, and very happy.

Evy’s news included an engagement ring (from Jared — I asked, hee hee) and her pregnancy.

I love how natural this is, her buying a home and loving Jared, and having a baby, etc., while I live with my house-rabbit(s) and go drinking with my friends. I love it that we can live such vastly different lives, and have entirely different perceptions of the “status quo,” and yet we grew up together and love each other, and can be happy for and proud of each other. Evy came to help with the premiere of my play, and to sit in the audience with me and read my interviews in the newspaper; I’ll go home in September and pamper her and love her new baby, and buy her slippers and manicures to make her feel loved and special and pretty.

In Other News 
I am extremely pleased with my dress purchase from yesterday. It’s the sexiest thing I have ever owned, and I can’t wait to go dancing and look stunning. Too bad dog-walks on Dallas Road don’t require formal dress.

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LETTERS TO LEVI – February 28, 2005

Dear Levi,

Congratulations on your Comedy Network pilot!! I hope it takes off and you become the next Seinfeld (but funny). Just remember, Levi, that I supported you when you were a Toronto-centric, beginning comedian; my affection for you goes beyond your newfound celebrity. You can count on me in good times and in not-as-good times.

Unless, of course, you never write me or acknowledge my letters, in which case WE ARE DONE, and I will love CSI’s Greg instead. And he’s an American, so neither of us want that to happen.

Anyhoo, write me soon 🙂

Love,
Heather xxxooo

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Another Day, Another Run Around the Block – February 28, 2005
Oh yes, I went for a run today after work – MY THIRD DAY IN A ROW! I am an athletic superhero. Also, I’m the coxswain for our rowing team at work, starting sometime in April, so I am going to be ridiculously buff ASAP. Except that I don’t think a coxswain rows (I’m not sure what I do) but I do know there’s yelling involved, so my vocal chords will be macho.

And Then I Ate Leftover Domino’s Pizza
It was yummy.

Let’s Make A List
Things I Like to Eat (Specifically: At Restaurants):
Salmon Burgers
Hamburgers with mushrooms on them
Tacos
Salads with maple balsamic dressing
the Salmon Chanted Evening salad at Pag’s
Roast beef dinners (with Yorkshire puddings)
Turkey dinners
Fettuccini Alfredo
Seafood Cannelonni
Pesto
Eggs Benedict with salmon, or spinach & tomato & bacon
BLTs on sourdough
Sourdough toast with various spreads
Rye bread toast with various spreads
Sandwiches with any of the following: swiss cheese, sprouts, cucumbers, pepper, mayo, dijon mustard, gouda, turkey.

And One Final Note
If Levi and I are not meant to be together, I might substitute “Greg” – the lanky lab guy – from CSI Las Vegas. He’s pretty in that same strange sort of way, and tall, and etc., and I like his (character’s) sense of humour. But first I’ll give Levi another chance, with a third (and final?) letter.

On an entirely separate note, if anyone has photos (ditigal or real) of me looking pretty and smart and sexy, please forward ASAP; I’m preparing a very special parcel for a certain Toronto comedian.