Daily Epiphany – January 2, 2005, 4:35 pm
I have entered the modern world and now own a DVD player. At A&B Sound you can buy Golden Girls anthologies, and this makes me feel very uncomfortable – I chose Kids in the Hall, and now I just have to figure out how to connect all the wires from DVD – VCR – TV . . . . this might be more difficult than I expected, because the wires have a third, red plug and my VCR only has yellow and white sockets. My TV is so old school that there isn’t any plug-in other than the cable screwy thing. Anyhoo, Golden Girls. I mean, really.
Letters to Levi MacDougall
Yesterday I saw this country music video called “Live Like You’re Dying” and I had a horrible moment where I thought maybe I’ve chosen the wrong medium —- writing is such a personal, private, lonely genre — and my audience is limited by factors such as:
- my own motivation to get published
- the editor’s inclination to accept my submission
- the reader’s interest in reading the final product
- also, accessibility, language, literacy, etc.
And, Levi is a comedian, which is also limited because stand-up comedy is an in-the-moment, must-be-present kind of art, so he relies on his own motivation to perform each and every time. I just have to have one or two good-writing moments to make something that will last. So maybe we should just sing country songs and make music videos, and then lazy bastards who are too blah to change the channel from CMT will be exposed to our art.
The Warren
Peter, Seamus, and Caramel are fine. Thanks for asking. They had a great New Year / Christmas / etc and it’s currently bunny naptime at the warren. It’s been a long day of tunneling and pooping on the porch, so they deserve some rest.
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Daily Epiphany – January 3, 2005, 6:26 pm
Goddamn Future Shop. Goddamn DVD wires.
Also, Kent Karemaker visited me today! He’s going to be a famous voice over actor guy one day. I haven’t seen him in months, and it was so good to see him doing well. Sexy as ever, and so easy to talk to. I’m glad we’re going to be friends.
Letters to Levi
My epiphany re: country music the other day is ironic, considering that I’ve started this uber-high tech website. It’s immediate! My writing needs no publisher! I can access the lazy bastards who can’t be bothered to change the channel! Yay! How do I pay rent doing this?
The Warren
I’ve realized the bunnies can’t be cold out there on the porch, because the bunnies at UVic survive winter every year. And the UVic bunnies don’t have the food, water, shelter, and constant hay supply of Seamus or Caramel. So no more worries. (Also, the porch is walled in to protect them from scary swooping owls and herons, as well as cats and naughty teenage boys.)
And Peter is so great. He was sprawled out in his road-kill-bunny happy pose earlier today!
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Daily Epiphany – January 4, 2005, 6:15 pm
To end my epic tale of technology, let me announce that I have figured out how to make my new DVD player work!!!! Yay!!! I figured it out by myself, and I have felt ridiculously competent ever since. However, I still have an extra connecting wire thingy that cost me a good $21.99 at Future Shop, and was sold to me separately from my DVD player as a must-have. I have been exploited, and I plan to cause a scene (loud but tasteful) when I return the unnecessary cord. Future Shop, beware.
I feel guilty for spending time inside when it’s so sunny and bright out these days. Victoria is sneaky like that – it looks lovely and walkable, but in fact it’s unbearably cold outside. If I’d followed through on the walk I had planned for after work, I’d be ill by now. But I still feel guilty, playing with my jigsaw puzzle and my photographs, problem-solving my new techy toys, when it’s blue and brilliant outside.
I miss Invermere, where it’s snowy and you can just look outside and see that, yep, it snowed, so therefore it’s winter and hibernation is acceptable. Eat, drink, sleep. But here the weather fools me! It looks like spring, with the stupid flowers everywhere, birds, etc. Sometimes I hate this bio bubble of an island, but it’s green and blue and pretty even in the middle of winter, so I should really just get on with it.
What’s for Dinner
I’m making linguini and pesto sauce, which is my favourite when I’m lazy and hungry. There is so much garlic in the pesto that Quinn has commented on the lingering odour hours after I’ve eaten, brushed my teeth, and showered. But then, Quinn is sensitive to that sort of thing . . .
Quote of the Day
“Women who pay their own rent don’t have to be nice.”
I could cite the source, but I don’t feel like it.
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Update – January 5, 2005, 10:45 pm
Happy News: Levi MacDougall will be on the Comedy Network sometime soon! It’s a feature airing of Comedy Now. More info will be provided as it emerges [DATE: FEBRUARY 13th , 2005, 10 pm!]. Also, pictures from the resulting Levi Party (denim theme?) will be posted 🙂
Sad News: Yogen Fruz in the Bay Centre food court has closed. I don’t know when it was gutted, but there is no more frozen-yogurt-and-fresh-fruit-goodness available in downtown Victoria. We’ll just have to make do with Booster Juice and fresh gelati. Oh, and the best homemade ice cream EVER at Sweet Memories on Government Street. And the super dooper soft serve cones at the Beacon Hill Drive In . . . (there are line ups for the outside service counter, even in the middle of winter.)
Upsetting Feedback
Questions have been raised as to the sexual orientation of Mr. Levi MacDougall. Despite being an ever-proud fruitfly/homo honey/fag hag I assure you that I do not always become infatuated with gay (or bisexual) men.
Regardless, my initial interest in Mr. MacDougall was not necessarily relationship-motivated. I think he’d be a super-fab penpal, and if we can develop a written correspondence then we can one day publish it or sell it on eBay and mutually benefit. Future Canadian comedian and writer, etc. So there. If he is straight, then so much the better.
Here is a poem, authored by my gal friend Jessie:
There once was a girl named Heather
Who tended to like guys who were clever
And then one day
In sometime past May
She realized that they were all gay.
In other news . . .
for those of you wondering how to pronounce “placate,” I have done the research: pla’kat’ or plak’at’. For those of you wondering what that means . . . I dunno. Also: white tea is great for you because of its anti-oxidants. But isn’t oxygen a good thing? Oxygen can cause rust . . . does white tea prevent us from rusting??? (Does oxygen cause rust?) (Is five years of university enough?)
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January 6th: HAPPY 23RD BIRTHDAY, EVY!!!!!!!
Letters to Levi
Perhaps I should have some kind of Levi Hotline, via which friends / colleagues of Mr. MacDougall can call in and report.
Perhaps that crosses the line o’ creepy . . .
Healthy Things I Do
Intake: I bought this nasty tasting pseudo-Greens+ stuff. You mix it with water and chug it down — it takes like snot and wheatgrass. I love the smell of cut grass (my favourite scent, in fact – there should be a perfume*) but I definitely don’t like the taste. Anyhoo, it’s supposed to give me energy and make up for all the vegetables I don’t eat. Nasty.
When I remember, I take my “One Tablet Daily” multivitamin and mineral tablet. Side-effects include: yellow urine that smells like cabbage.
I don’t drink tonnes of water. I have chapped lips this week to prove it. But I do guzzle tea like a deranged English matron. That’s water . . . technically.
Output: Rockland is my neighbourhood. It’s lovely — old houses, stone fences, iron gates . . . I like doing a lap around Craigdarroch Castle. I’ve run around the block twice so far this year, and I feel like a rock star for being so healthy. Unfortunately, Quinn broke our communal discman the other day while treadmilling at the Y and now I can’t listen to Eminem to distract me from the physical discomfort. So no running for me, at least for awhile. Also, thanks to Jessie I have excellent running shoes.
I own a pilates ball . . . it’s pink, and looks really pretty on top of my bookshelf.
Sometimes Jessie inspires me and we do spontaneous sit-ups on Quinn’s living room rug. According to Jessie, my fitness guru, the perfect sit-up form is:
– legs up, parallel to the ground
– knees bent at 90-degrees
– chin away from chest (as if you’re holding a little ball or apple or something with your chin)
– arms (obviously) not pushing or levering your upper body into a sit-up
– do NOT tuck or rest your feet/legs on anything.
I miss the abs I had when I was thirteen and learning to snowboard. Nothing is better for your stomach muscles than falling on your ass and having to get back up.
Cut-Grass Perfume
A great idea. I’d buy it, and use it. I wonder how much that would piss off people with hay fever?
Other scents that I love include: green tea, lemon, lime, and vanilla. Once when I was 16 I used a tester of strawberry perfume at a sort-of-Body-Shop-store and then rode in a car for 1.5 hours with a bunch of teenaged boys. The air circulation made the whole car stink of strawberry, and the guys could not stop talking about sex. But maybe that was because they were teenaged boys, and not because of the perfume.
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LETTERS TO LEVI: January 7, 2005
I’m still trying to figure out if this is too creepy, to have a site where I publish unsent letters to someone I’ve never met.
So no entry for today.
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Weather Gone Wild – January 7, 2005, 4:16 pm
It snowed!!! I woke up to wind and whiteness. It was so much fun — everyone downtown was bundled up and smiley (yet fearful). Also, I got to go home early from work – we’re expecting more snow through to Monday. I love my job, but I also love being home, warm, with tea, pajamas, and my rabbits.
Things I Picked Up On The Way Home:
– a loaf of bakery-fresh rye bread
– six bunches of parsley and a bag of carrots for the bunnies (we’re almost out of rabbit food pellets!)
– $100 cash because credit cards will be worthless in The New Land That Is Snowed-In Victoria
– a rather large bottle of Bailey’s
– 2L of milk for tea (and to mix with the Bailey’s)
The Warren
Seamus and Caramel looked very confused this morning. Everything on their (sheltered from predators) porch was covered with snow! I dumped them into my wicker laundry basket and relocated them to a makeshift rabbit refugee camp (aka my kitchen). They’re warm but skittery.
Peter, aside from being mirfed about sharing his territory, is just fine. There were a few manic STOMPS* this morning, but that’s it.
* For those of you who don’t know bunnies, they actually do stomp, just like Thumper on Bambi. It’s REALLY LOUD and has kept me awake occasionally. They stomp for either one of two main reasons:
1. something is trying to kill them and there’s DANGER!
or
2. something is different (i.e. I swept).
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LETTERS TO LEVI – January 9, 2005:
When asked, those who know that I’m not a creepy stalker have suggested the following reasons for why it’s okay to “pursue” my interest in Mr. MacDougall:
– He might possibly be flattered by the attention, and it’s nice to make someone feel special.
– I’m (technically) making him more famous by spreading the Levi Gospel, which never hurts in a profession that relies on name-recognition.
– I’m providing him with some excellent material for his “My Stalker” comedy set.
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Weekend Update – January 9th, 2005, 8:07 pm
This weekend was wonderfully different from the usual. Quinn and some of our other friends attended the young model parliament conference thingy, in which about 90-something young people (16-30) take over the Legislature and pretend to be the House. Ivan was the Prime Minister, and Rowan was the Minister of something or other. Scott was the Leader of the Official Opposition (NDP). Pinder was also there, and a bunch of people I’d met via Quinn’s previous political shenanigans. I watched for a few hours each day, and everyone was mad with power . . .
Quinn won some great recognition awards: Best New Member, Sitting As a Minister; the Liberal Caucus’ Pierre Elliot Trudeau Award for his unapologetic Liberal arrogance and circular rhetoric; and the NDP’s Tommy Douglas Medicare Award, in recognition of his exceptional speaking performance.
If anyone knows how I can write off the costs of this weekend, as Quinn’s official biographer, please let me know.
Name Vs. Verb
Why Is it said: “to peter out”? Did some guy name Peter once gradually falter? And in a memorable way?
Similarly, something can “wane” (“Wayne”). ????????
Kids in the Hall
Three of the five Kids in the Hall members have “Mc” surnames. Coincidence?
Question of the Day
Is it in poor taste to sing the “Running Faggot” song while jogging with your favourite gay boy?
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Heather’s Comedy Commentary – January 10, 2005
Some Comedic Types:
i. Is Everyone in the Audience Drunk? Or a Relative?
S/he’s obnoxious but the audience laughs and s/he hears the laughter and is inappropriately encouraged. S/he sounds increasingly confident and that makes him/her more obnoxious.
ii. Aren’t You Dead Yet?
An American / older man / misguided young fella who (still) thinks that sexism is really funny.
Sample line: “My wife talks too much.” And you’re a dick.
iii. Sexy Accent Guy
Usually Australian, Irish, or British. He’s not very appealing physically, but his accent is so sexy! He’s funny, except that sometimes you can’t understand what he’s saying.
iv. Levi MacDougall
Levi is my favourite of them all. He is bizarre and fractured – post-modern, actually, for those of us who think we know what that means. I admire Levi because he’s so different from all the other comedians I’ve seen.
CAUTION: Someone once told me that liking a writer because of her writing is the same as liking chickens because eggs are yummy.
Family Contact
Also, I received a great letter from my Gramma in Burlington, Ontario today. She gave me a wonderful book one Christmas: How to Be Happy, Dammit! I highly recommend it, and the subsequent publications (The Seven Lively Sins).
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Online Intentions – January 11, 2005
I do have specific motivations for creating this site. Around New Year’s I resolved to stop writing without an audience. I have notebooks and files and floppy discs and drawers of loose papers full of my writing from the past 12 years or so, and I’m the only one who reads it (except for the editors I submit to, and the writing workshops of my university years).
How will I ever be the Great Canadian Writer of My Generation if no one reads me?
The creation and upkeep of these pages satisfy my need to note the details. It doesn’t even matter if anyone reads this, because I am writing every single day, and that’s wonderful.
On the Hunt
Similarly, my virtual correspondence with Levi MacDougal is satisfying regardless of whether he knows about it. I’d love it if he would participate, because dialogue is healthier than monologue. The only result that I wouldn’t be happy with is if he is mean to me (sensitive creature that I am).
It’s like writing in general. You can scribble in secret and never risk hurt feelings, or you can make it visible and open yourself to the good comments as well as the criticism.
Six Degrees, Discovered
Nathan read my website and (eek!) is dating a comedian who knows Levi. It was bound to happen. Nathan has been charged with the mission of discerning Levi’s sexual orientation, etc. (As a homo-honey I’m overly aware of the risks of having a crush on an artsy guy.)
Exciting developments, as always!
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Something Pointy This Way Comes – January 12, 2005
My wisdom teeth are sprouting and they don’t hurt. Current status is as follows:
– bottom right: pointy tooth like a mountain top growing from my gums
– bottom left: rough gums, which I have learned is the signal for an upcoming tooth
– top right: less-rough gums that shift to regular gums every other day, as the tooth seriously considers emerging
– top left: no developments as yet.
For the record, my dental benefits kick in March 1, 2005. I don’t plan to get my wisdom teeth removed unless they start to hurt, as per the excellent advice of my childhood dentist, Doctor Don.
Rumination of the Day
I’ve been considering this quote from the venerable Stephen King (yuck) from his book On Writing. I don’t particularly admire the man’s writing, so I don’t have to agree with his aphorism, but here it is:
“Life isn’t a support system for art. It’s the other way around.” (page 101)
The more I think about this, the less it makes sense.
Any time I discuss The Meaning Of Life with artsy people they tend to concur that art is what gives any life purpose. But is King saying that we need to put down our pens/paintbrushes/ballet shoes and start living? Art isn’t a justifiable purpose for life?
But if art is a support system for life, then . . . art sustains us? Art pays my rent? I don’t think so. The problem here, in part, is the sentence structure. A negative (“isn’t”), which is then reversed (“the opposite”). ????????
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Making Progress on the Puzzle – January 13, 2005
I left work, picked up a bottle of sangria-for-winos and a six-pack of cider, then stood around in the cold and almost-dark waiting for the bus.
It is a testament to my cowardice that, when a bus finally came, I didn’t get on because I saw an old friend inside. Jessie and I let our friendship with Jen “peter out” around this time last year. She’s younger than us, and a Scorpio, and (if that doesn’t explain everything) she takes a lot of energy to be friends with. Jessie and I agreed that we were both too stressed out and tired to deal with the drama, and so I abandoned my extra pajama set, blender and yellow string bikini, left at Jen’s apartment after one of our girly nights, and I haven’t seen Jen since.
The strange thing is that I’m not afraid of potential confrontation. I don’t like cruelty or pettiness, but I’m not scared of talking about personal things, being straight-forward, or even awkward situations. But when I saw Jen inside the #11, I just felt so tired! A full day of work, and all I wanted was to check on my bunny rabbits, drink some bad sangria, and watch the Comedy Network. It’s Thursday, which has always been my favourite day of the week; why would I invite stress? I’m still surprised, though – at my automatic decision to avoid Jen, and at the tired feeling I got when I saw her.
Everyone seems to have different ideas about friends, and what we owe our friends. I’m a self-proclaimed, selfishly independent person these days; I don’t have much energy or love to spare for other people. I don’t think this has to be a bad thing – I’m capable of taking care of other people, and being gentle with their feelings. A selfish phase is healthy for a twenty-four year old. BUT I still feel guilty about it, which is why I’m going on at such length . . .
Footnote #1
Buses in Victoria don’t come by very often: every 10 minutes or so, on a very busy route on a weekday. (I’ve waited hours for others that never came.) In Ottawa I remember buses arriving every few minutes, and even I could figure out the city routes and transfers.
Footnote to Footnote #1
However, the trees in Ottawa are nasty. They were stuck as afterthoughts into dusty holes in the sidewalk. The bark is black from smog and construction grit. So we can feel superior here in Victoria, and in B.C., because our trees are healthy and beautiful, and actually have names (e.g. arbutus, pine, poplar, cedar). And they don’t leave gunk on your coat when you hug them.
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Bunny Epiphany – January 15, 2005, 1:16 am
The bunnies (Seamus and Caramel) are definitely relocating back to their porch tomorrow. I was all sentimental yesterday and this morning, about having my bunbuns all inside with me, stomps and all, but then I checked in on the Rabbit Refugee Camp (aka my kitchen) and there was poop everywhere. They’ve made themselves comfortable, and I don’t like that.
THEN I went and (thanks to Quinn and his excellent VW Golf) got a bale of straw from Borden Mercantile, to make a happy warm nest for the bunnies outside. Spencer was already drunk but, being the sweet Mormon farm boy he is, he helped carry my bale up the back stairs, through the hallway, through my apartment, and out onto the porch. What a superhero! I was covered in straw by the end of it. Wool coat, etc. – like a magnet!
AND THEN when I got back just now from the movie (we saw In Good Company, or whatever, with that tall guy – Eric – from That ‘70’s Show – AND, I just realized now that one of the characters was named Dan FOREMAN, which is Eric’s last name . . . anyhoo) I opened the door and smelled rabbit. EWWWWW!!!! It’s not a good sign when you smell rabbit. That means that the hay and the straw and the piss and poop (from the litterboxes, mostly – ahem) have permeated the apartment and it’s time to vinegar the floors.
So tomorrow is the Exodus. Seamus and Caramel will return to their safe and predictable bunny-lives on the porch, sheltered by my dad’s hand-built trellis (lovely), and Peter will once again reign as Alpha Bun of our tiny apartment.
Everything back to normal.
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Cranium & Other Learning Tools – January 16, 2005, 1 am
Jessie and Justin had a bunch of us over for dinner and Cranium tonight! The dinner was yummy – lemon garlic chicken, a sweet apple/almond salad, and pesto pasta. J&J are a very fine hosting team.
I left my place around 6:20pm, and opened the door to fresh snow. Strangely, there was also the “rrroosh” of rain, but it was sort of dark outside and I couldn’t tell where the noise was coming from. Of course, it was rain, and I went back in for my big umbrella, thereby embracing the uniquely Victorian logic that an umbrella in the snow makes sense. I feel so dirty . . .
The night was fun – we played Cranium, and I love Cranium, especially the impressions & charades categories. It’s also one of the only times I can use my 2 years / four terms / $1,000 worth of Ancient Greek studies from university (it helps to figure out word definitions).
We’ve all been gradually converted into hiring Spencer as our favourite hair stylist, so of the nine people there, only three hadn’t yet used Spencer’s salon services. Rachel was still fresh and sexy from her 9am appointment.
Neato Things I Learned Tonight
Hair can give you slivers! Spencer had one under his fingernail. Apparently it’s common among hair professionals.
Tigers not only have striped fur/hair, they also have striped skin.
Cider bottles have twisty-tops that twist lower than the top allows, but that’s because the glass bottles are also made to accommodate other beverages (i.e. soda pop) that require lower twisty-area. (NOTE: that might be bullshit.)
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Context Has Purpose – January 16, 2005, 9:52 pm
In highschool I always hated learning the dates of significant historical events. The stories were interesting, but the numbers were extraneous. When I started university, I dropped The History of Art 101 because the exams asked for dates of artistic creation.
Some of my fellow English lit grads know when “The Victorian Era” was. I know it was when the word “homosexuality” was invented, and “heterosexuality.” (By the by, how can anyone justify an anti-homosexual reading of the Bible if it was written before that word existed? Sentences that translate into “He KNEW him” are a little ambiguous for bigots to quote. Anyhoo.)
History buffs have always frightened me.
Part of my distaste for chronological context has to do with my inability to grasp the notion of linear time. Also, I don’t like remembering numbers. They always seem so arbitrary. If you misplace a decimal point or a zero or any random digit, the entire meaning changes. How unreliable! Words are more sturdy — if I mispell a word, you can still understand what I’m trying to say.
BUT I’ve found myself watching comedy reruns, thanks to the blizzards/monsoons this Victoria winter, and I’ve suddenly realized the value of understanding historical context. Especially when in the company of others, and I feel I have to defend a joke. Sure, Scott Thompson’s Buddy Cole character sketches are a bit . . . odd, and maybe not all that funny. But Buddy was on stage during the AIDS plague, before Queer Eye for the Straight Guy and Will & Grace. It’s due to him, in great part, that Queer Eye ever made it on air. And while Queer Eye, etc., might not be the best champions of gay-as-mainstream, it’s a massive leap from the days of our parents’ TV evenings.
Tangent . . .
My point is that, with an understanding of what society, etc., was like BEFORE, it enables us to appreciate the art that came out of that time. And while some of you might already understand this, it was my epiphany of the weekend, and I’m very pleased to finally join those of you who appreciate the value of historical context.
Also
The bunnies have returned to their porch, and are VERY happy with their straw-lined lair. And Peter’s forgiven me for letting them inside – he wiggled his nose at me this morning. I might get some snuggles tonight!
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Peter Learns to Shit in Straw – January 17, 2005
Motivated by unreasonably high late fees, I finally watched The Barbarian Invasions. And it was okay. There was a lot of (French) talk of semen and blow jobs, and unnecessary close ups on drug injections. The most memorable moment, however, was the point when the subtitles stopped appearing.
First thought: Oh, I guess it’s symbolic and Anglophones aren’t supposed to understand this scene.
Second thought: I bet it’s because my DVD wiring is . . . creative. Stupid goddamn technology.
Third thought: I’m so sad. I was emotionally invested in this story; I thought I understood the characters. BUT THEY’RE SPEAKING FRENCH!! They were, all along. And I’m not part of their world, because I can’t understand what the hell is going on now. I’m just a gal on a couch, watching a foreign film.
Reward Thyself
Another motivation for sitting through The Barbarian Invasions was Dodgeball. Yes, I rented another moronic Ben Stiller creation . . . I needed a chaser for the intellectual shot that is Les invasions barbares. I’ve begun to notice consistent cameos in certain movies – Kevin Smith has Matt Damon & Ben Affleck’s souls; Ben Stiller’s favourite blonde actress has resurrected from Zoolander and is also in Dodgeball. I suppose I could look that relationship up somewhere – some cheesy internet fan site, or a shiny celebrity magazine. But, eww, I’m not that dirty.
Peter, the Alpha Bun
Peter’s new trick is untying the pink bows on my slippers with his bunny teeth. It doesn’t matter if I’m wearing the slippers or not – they’ve gone missing, and then I’ve found them, undone, under my bed (aka in Peter’s Lair of Bunny Machismo).
He was reluctant to accept straw in his litterbox at first. (We’ve used hay since his early bunnyhood.) But after a LOT of messing about with the box – dragging it back and forth with his front paws, digging out some of the extra, more itchy straw – he’s accepted my decision. I know it sounds really gross, but a rabbit’s poops are the only accurate way to gauge his/her health and happiness. (As prey, rabbits will pretend they’re perfectly fine so as not to attract predators.) But Peter pooped this morning, and that means that the world is a happy place. Straw and all.
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The Second Letter to Levi – January 19, 2005
I bet that some of you think I’m just joking (or maybe you’re HOPING I’m just joking) but I have really mailed two letters to Levi at this time. Handwritten, pen on paper, with a stamp and address and everything.
I didn’t want to scare the poor guy, so I sent them c/o the Rivoli theatre, which he performs at a lot. This shows great restraint, considering that he is listed on 411.ca, but I think that might be a bit spooky. Home address, and all.
The first one I wrote the night I saw him on TV – sometime last summer or fall, I don’t really remember. I’d been drinking.
The second one I mailed just before Christmas, which I thought would give the postal people lots of time to deliver it before Levi’s next performance at the Rivoli. But it definitely must have arrived by last night, the night Levi was MC-ing a comedy show (which, coincidentally, included The Wet Spots, who also performed at the Victoria Fringe Festival last summer, alongside my play).
And so I wait. I expect, if he intends to reply at all, it will take at least a week for the letter to travel from Toronto. So give it two weeks or so for a reply to be in my mailbox . . . I’m not entirely sure what I’ll do if he doesn’t write back. Is three (unacknowledged) letters a bit goofy? Should I JUST TAKE THE HINT and leave the poor guy alone?
Oh, I completely forgot! Nathan was going to investigate Levi via his comedian girl. I will follow up tomorrow.
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So Much Is Happening! – January 20, 2005
Am I the only one who feels the clichéd-but-true feeling of Spring this week? Sure, there was snow just last Sunday, but EVERYTHING is so SEXUAL! Even Peter the Alpha Bun has been following me around lately, instead of hiding under the couch. This morning there was a condom balloon hanging from the roof of my bus shelter! The transvestive-hooker from View Towers had new (5-inch) heels on this morning! And the men in Victoria are good looking – I’ve lived here for more than six years, and I have never seen so many attractive men in this 6 women:1 man, “I’m married, old, or gay” city.
I always thought that winter was the time for coupling-up, in preparation for the cold and dark. But no! The animals have it right! Let’s meet, mate, and be merry!
What I Want
#1: a good massage. I’ve never been without SOMEONE to give me a proper massage, but suddenly I find myself achy and surrounded by platonic friends. I’ve resolved to get myself a spa massage this year, for my 25th birthday present. Last year I gave myself a pretty necklace and bracelet; the year before, I made myself a quilt (which Peter has since chewed up and shat out).
#2: a career like Carrie Bradshaw’s on Sex in the City. I only like watching that show because of the occasional scenes with Carrie, comfortable in her pj-underwear, ruminating over her laptop. And she can still afford to live in New York! It must be possible – TV says it’s so. This is an eventual-dream, maybe for when I’m later-20’s or thirties. First I need to pay off my goddamn student loans, and learn EVERYTHING about issues management and professional communications, so that I can freelance when the Mastercard bill is due.
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Painful Observations – January 21, 2005
When I get nervous I become a moron. This was Quinn’s insight today, and (true to best friend form) he wasn’t reluctant to share his observations with me.
I know it’s true! How can I change?? I blush and make mundane declarations . . . I can’t seem to answer any question directly, I appeal to ANYone else nearby to provide the answers that I already know.
Anytime I become convinced that I’ve “grown up,” that I’m truly “becoming the man I always wanted to marry” (I love that!), something routine happens and I stutter and stammer and turn primary-red. Lately, triggers have included: introductions to large groups of people; awkward smile-exchanges with a hottie on the bus; and inviting my sexy banker to a martini party.
When will I become smooth and suave and uber-cool? Is there an age? An income bracket? Do I need a certain number of publication credits?? Maybe I should watch more/less television.
Condom Balloon – Update
It wasn’t at the bus shelter this morning, so I wandered around a bit, trying to find it on the ground. No luck. I’ll always regret not taking that picture the other morning.
Things I’m Working On That Have Stalled
My jigsaw puzzle.
Greek lessons.
Dusting.
Three shelves worth of “good books.” (To read – I’m gradually reading them. Books are for reading.)
Times Colonist crosswords (borrowed from work) and some logic puzzles, which for some reason I’ve become incapable of finishing. Maybe I’m stupidifying.
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Ugh – January 23, 2005
I love martinis. I feel so yucky today.
Really Great Idea
Every few months I think of some innovative, life-changing invention, etc., and then I tell people and they say “Great idea!” and then a while later that same idea becomes mainstream thanks to someone else and that person gets all famous and rich and stuff.
My idea last night (after a few martinis) was to have a martini restaurant like a Japanese restaurant, with a martini-maker for each table of people. That way the martini-maker could suggest special drinks according to individual taste, etc. (personal attention, an aesthetic experience – all good stuff).
I reveled in my brilliance all last night, and then opened up to Best Friend Quinn this morning and told him my stunningly genius idea.
“Sort of like a bar?” He said.
Yep. Right.
Heather Goes Back to the Drama Buffet For Seconds
My sexy banker is married, which I know because others told me. That’s not a cool way to find out.
You might be thinking: Well, gees Heather – the ring should have been a big old clue. Silly oblivious flirt! But I say NAY! There was no ring! Devil’s Advocate Quinn pointed out that maybe, like my daddy, the banker doesn’t wear his wedding ring to work for safety reasons.
However, my daddy is a carpenter and jewelery invites maimed hands, ripped-off fingers, etc.
The banker . . . is a banker!!!!!!!
To married people who act like they’re single: some of us are still fishing around, trying to catch the right one (or not). Keep your stupid feet out of the water; you’re making it muddy and scaring all the big ones away.
Good thing I have Levi – his love keeps me grounded.
Plagiarized Quote For the Day
(I’m Too Ill to be Insightful)
“Of course I’m for Monogamy: I’m also for Everlasting Peace and an End to Taxes.”
– title of a book by Marilyn Vos Savant.
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The Pleasure of Giving – January 24, 2005
I got cool buttons and stickers today from Bitch magazine for my donation. I love them. Give them money.
Levi MacDougall
Important news first – or lack thereof: no letter as yet. How sad. Also, Nathan reported back to me re: his scouting via a comedian gal, and I can’t quite recall what he said (I was drinking martinis at the time) but I think he said that his gal friend didn’t know Levi personally and that there wasn’t much news there. So, yep.
Also, I’ve noticed, during casual “google.ca” searches, that no new listings are coming up for L.M. so either he has retired, or google is a lazy bitch search engine, or he’s in hiding because some crazy chick in Victoria is stalking him.
In the News
I’m VERY aware of current issues – it’s part of my day job – but I don’t like to rant about politics here. It’s a choice, to preserve job security and my sanity. But I highly recommend www.publiceyeonline.com for current events and local gossip.
Also, there was a story today in the Vancouver Sun (ew) that said that the formula for happiness is as follows:
[W+(D-d)]xTQ divided by MxNA
“where W is the weather, D is your debt (and small d is the amount of money you’ll get on your next payday), T is elapsed time since Christmas, and Q the length of time since you abandoned a New Year’s resolution or other self-improvement plan. M is a sort of all-purpose category for motivation levels. NA is the necessary action for making your life better.”
– “Today – The Most Depressing Day of the Year?” Vancouver Sun, Pg A1, January 24/05, By Tom Spears).
I haven’t done the calculations yet, but with my student loan debt I don’t expect fantastic results.
The Warren
I thought Peter had learned to shit in straw, but apparently he’s the one who’s been training me, because I’ve been forced (via various bunny manipulations) to go back to using hay for his litter box. Bunnies are nefarious. To show his disdain for the straw he peed on the floor, right beside the box, and then he spread the straw ALL OVER the floor of my apartment.
I’m not sure what this says about our relationship, but as long as I get my bunny kisses I’m okay with it.
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Stupid Goddamn A&B Sound – January 25, 2005
Stupid goddamn A&B Sound. I walked ten blocks back to A&B to get my CD after my doctor’s appointment – and I’d kind of been looking forward to this new CD for awhile – and they didn’t have it. (!!!!!!!!)
So I asked. Apparently some moron did something and it won’t be in until (maybe as late as) next week. (!!!!!)
I have a crippling Christmas Eve Complex (self-diagnosed), which means that I get VERY VERY EXCITED about certain things. This whole A&B incident is upsetting.
Speaking of Heather Being Crazy
My doctor’s appointment was with a counsellor, because I’ve been trying to STOP THE MADNESS of anxiety ever since second year university. Medication is fine and (to be honest) magnificent, but I’ve been searching for some counselling/therapy sessions to balance out the drugs.
Anyhoo, our first session, today, was great. Like most people, I LOVE to talk about myself (ahem – this website), so that was fun, and also I like the process of character development and analysis, which is what my counselor “Beth” is doing. I could almost hear the “aha!”s when I said certain things, about being an eldest child raised by middle children, etc.
I’m excited about how counseling might help, but I’m also confused by the chemical vs psychological nature of my anxiety. My doctor says that it’s okay to use prescription drugs, because if I had a heart problem, I wouldn’t feel guilty for taking heart medication. But then, the whole focus of counseling (or so it seems thus far) is figuring out what’s inside me that is causing the anxiety – the “underlying issues.”
Is it me or my genetics? Anxiety is such a potent force, when unmedicated, that I have difficulty believing that breathing exercises (ha!) will quash it.
We’ll see. I feel great that I’m trying something new.
Happy Thought
Income tax!!!! I LOVE tax time. This will be an unusual year to tax-ify, due to the variety of income-creating activities. I might have to hire an accountant. YAY!
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Training the Diva – January 26, 2005
Celeste has met her match! A clicker and a pocketful of treats, with Quinn and I thoroughly trained to resist her pretty wittle Westie eyes . . . awwww . . .
Our first dog training class was tonight. I’m joining Q in this endeavor as a back-up – he says it’s because I’m the one who needs to learn how to be tough with Celeste, but I’ve seen them spooning on the couch, and I know we’ll both benefit from the lessons.
Boo to Hugo’s
There’s an ad on the radio for Hugo’s; they try to sell themselves as the bar for “young professionals.” My experiences with Hugo’s are: being hit on by a drunk old man who smelled; and those disgusting posters around town for cheap “Jugs” with a close up of airbrushed boobs in a push-up bra.
Yes, my “young professional” girl friends and I definitely choose Hugo’s for our nights out.
Wisdom Teeth – UPDATE
The great thing about wisdom teeth is that they appear when you’re old enough to have forgotten any memories of still having parts of you grow. I’m in awe of these emerging bits of enamel (calcium? What are teeth made of?) and that my mouth can accommodate their pointiness and size.
(I still vaguely remember thinking “oh, these shoes are a bit big, but I’ll grow into them” and then realizing that my feet had stopped growing the year before.)
Lessons Learned
When your friend asks you to thaw some chicken for dinner, and you put it in the microwave, and then you decide you feel like making ribs instead, it’s a good idea not to forget about the chicken, and leave it in there for two days.
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Aside From Wisdom Teeth – January 27, 2005
Jessie and I had a wonderful date tonight. A truly girl-friendly event, with cosmopolisyns from Syn, that new martini bar on Yates – oh, and I had a very decent steak and veggies and mushrooms and potatoes and LOBSTER TAIL – and before that was bra shopping, a necessary chore which I love/hate because:
– it’s fun to buy pretty things
– it’s boring to buy useful, necessary things, unless they’re especially pretty.
But exciting discovery: aside from my new Bureaucrat Belly, I also have new Bureaucrat Boobies! I’ve grown from an “A” cup to a “B” cup and this is surprising, because I thought (aside from wisdom teeth) that I was done growing. But no, I’m becoming buxom. I love that word – buxom. Sounds like an animal. That we eat.
Anyhoo, I have three stunning new bras and a pair of pants that cradle my new gut very nicely.
The Date Continued
And we attended the eighth episode of Atomic Vaudeville, a sorta improv show with guest performers. (It’s held monthly at the Victoria Culture Centre on Broad Street.)
And it was funny. We laughed a lot. (There was also a bar.) And there was a great Oreo cookie skit, and a spoof Vaghina Monopause skit, and a strip show . . . just great. A wonderful girly date – the sort of girly date that girly date dreams are made of.
And now it’s time for sleep.
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Bowling for Carpel Tunnel Syndrome – January 30, 2005, 12:31 am
Jessie, Justin, Q and I went to Mayfair Lanes tonight, and Jessie sharked us – she’s a super striker! Q drank an entire pitcher of dark ale all by himself. Also, Q and I got a parking ticket because Robin parking is stupid and mean. But then we had ice cream at Red Robin, and everything was good – I am AMAZED at how much dairy product J&J can consume when they have a craving.
Ho on the Go
Sometimes I “go homeless” and leave my apartment for a day or two – I have spare toothbrushes (and sometimes contact lens sets) at friends’ houses. I’m not sure why I like to do this, considering how much I love my home, but I love the idea of being a nomad, and living out of a bag, and scrounging for food in Quinn’s cupboards (or Bagels on Broad Street, as the case may be). My bunnies are ideal pets because they are so independent.
Entertainment Tonight
Ani DiFranco’s new CD finally arrived at A&B on Friday!!!! I confess, I haven’t listened to it yet. I’m waiting for a quiet few hours when I can sit and do my jigsaw puzzle and listen properly.
And one last bit of entertainment news: I’ve seen two movies this weekend so far – Hide & Seek, and Touch of Pink. H&S is stupid. Touch of Pink is funny and lovely and highly recommended. But then, I’m biased: I’m a homo honey who hates horror flicks.
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Rent Day! – January 30, 2005 – 10:37 pm
I’m learning how to use Fireworks and Dreamweaver, which is frustrating but fascinating. There’s something so retro-academic about self-motivated instruction. It’s like school, but sans stress. Regardless, I’ve been staring at computer screens much too often lately.
A New Angle
Dad gave me a very useful perspective today on the whole ANXIETY: IS IT MEDICAL OR PSYCHOLOGICAL? debate. I’ve been thinking of mental “illness” as similar to a heart condition, or cancer, or something equally debilitating that you didn’t necessarily cause, it’s a genetic mutation, freak occurrence, and meds are expected in order to keep you alive. (With this view, counseling is silly.)
But Dad likens mental “illness” with a tender ankle – you can take meds to ease the pain when it flares up, but if you learn how to move around the weak joint, and strengthen the muscles, then you can (help) prevent a serious injury. Therefore, counseling is helpful.
I’ve noticed how much “spin” affects our world – the above is an example. But isn’t “spin” what our parents and environment teach us? To see the silver lining on the cloud? To take a spoonful of sugar, to help the medicine go down? Mommas and Daddys are raising little spin masters. How cute.
New DVDs in Heather’s Movie Library
I bought two goodies at Future Shop today: Donnie Darko, which Kent Karemaker introduced me to; and Don Juan DeMarco, which I haven’t seen in years. (Isn’t it odd how the two titles rhyme?)
I last saw Don Juan during my pre-university, pre-critical theory, pre-feminism years. I love the movie – besides Johnny Depp being JUST SO LOVELY, I was able to appreciate the sensuality more, watching it this afternoon. And I finally noticed the whole theme of identity and reality . . . I like it when we get those opportunities to stand in front of the growth chart, and measure the distance between “then” and “now.” It makes all that time (and tuition) worth it.
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I’m a Yogi! – January 31, 2005
Rueben brought me into the world of grown up employment, and then I introduced Andrew and Quinn, and then Quinn forwarded Jessie’s resume to Tracy . . . (also, recently, Rachel has joined the ranks!) AND NOW I AM A YOGI!
My new protégé is named Dustin. He’s just a young thing, and I am helping him with employment and housing, etc., in Victoria (he lives in Duncan, I think). I call him my Yogu. Privately, of course – listed in the directory of my cell phone . . . my little Yogu, Dustin.
Being a Yogi satisfies the bossiest of my eldest child instincts. “Email this person; make your resume this size font.” Heaven.
In Related News
If anyone wants to hire a young’un or two, I have a stack of resumes on my desk from a whole bunch of great people.
Leaning on my Door Today
was a parcel! I was in Kiss & Tell the other day and the “staff recommended” book was Sexual Intelligence. There’s even a quiz. I have a fondness for sexual self-help books – the Powers That Be say that sex and death are the two most difficult things to write about.
Anyhoo, I was going to be a good person and buy the book at my locally-owned bookstore, but then I remembered my Chapters membership discount card (silly me) and went there instead. The book had recently been on sale, it seems, but was out of stock. I refused to pay full price ($37 or something) when I knew it had just recently cost a mere $4.99, so I went online to www.abebooks.com, and I bought it for $10 US (shipping and handling included). I know it’s the devil to buy American instead of Canadian, but I paid $1.75 for public transit to carry me four blocks this morning so I think we’re even.
So the book was at my door today, and I’ve read the first chapter and done the quiz. Definitely worth $10 US — I’ve already highlighted a few gender stereotypes and strangely Christian vocabulary (“sin,” “adultery” – who says “adultery” anymore?!), but we shall see. I’ll report back when I get around to reading the rest.
P.S.
I also made ginger snap cookies tonight. They are so good.