You're A Silent Film

I want to take a deep breath and suck in the entire sky. I have been listless and angsty. I printed out a story and marked it up; it's on the floor and I can't be bothered to commit the changes.

I can be optimistic. I have every reason to be. The days are bright and growing long. I have ideas. I set unrealistic targets and I meet them anyway. And then I feel like I never get anything right. I don't make any sense. You don't make any sense. You are perfectly predictable. I have constant fantasies about doing the wrong thing. And then I spend five minutes to make sure I am spacing out my fingers right. We should destroy all the art we have ever made. Only that will set us free.
 
Holy shit, guys. I AM GOING TO DIE one day. I have to do something really awesome right now. What should I do?

PS, Today is my first day at the National Ballet School!
Also, T-minus 5 days till I get to add "Fitness Instructor" to my resume!

This Guy Is Seriously Not Into you, It's Crazy.

So sick of secondhand lovers carving names on my chest
If I lean in too close, it's to kiss or confess
Promise you won't let on, and I won't let you down

I admit it. Girls are weak. We need as much love and attention we can possibly get. Sue me.

All girls react to their issues differently. Some play mind games. Some play hard to get. Some are stubborn and cry for attention in completely inappropriate ways which only make them look bad to other people. Depends on the situation.

There's nothing that makes me cringe more than those girlfriends (or guyfriends!) that I've mentioned in previous posts that call me crying at all hours of the night-- and I don't mind it, I really don't-- but then they get back together with their significant others after being cheated on, treated like dirt, disrespected, completely humiliated and neglected and etc.

(S)He's Just Not That Into You

• Cut your losses and don't waste your time. Why stay in some weird dating limbo when you can move on to what will surely be better territory? Don't want to hear it? Fine. Here's the answer you're looking for, "Hang in there, baby. He's not the loser everybody's telling you he is. If you wait and keep your mouth shut and call at exactly the right time and anticipate his moods and have no expectations about communication or your own sexual needs, you can have him!" But please don't be surprised if he dumps you or continues to drag you through a completely unsatisfying relationship.
• Don't let the "honeys" and the "babys" fool you. His sweet nothings are exactly that. They are much easier to say than "I'm just not that into you." Remember, actions speak louder than, "There's no cell reception where I am right now."
• Calling when you say you're going to call is the very first brick in the house you are building of love and trust. If he can't lay this one stupid brick down, you ain't never gonna have a house, baby. And it's cold outside.
• Beware of the word "friend". It can often be used by men or the women that love them to excuse the most unfriendly behavior. Personally, when I'm picking friends, I like the ones who don't make me cry myself to sleep.
• I don't want to be "sort of dating" someone. I don't want to be "kinda hanging out" with someone. I don't want to spend a lot of energy suppressing my feelings so I appear uninvolved. I want to be involved. I want to be with someone I know I'll see again because they've already demonstrated to me that they're trustworthy and honorable -- and into me.
• Every man you have ever dated who has said he doesn't want to get married or doesn't believe in marriage, or has "issues" with marriage, will ... rest assured ... someday be married. It just will never be with you.
• Everyone wants to be loved and needed, particularly by the person who just broke up with us. I understand. What could be better than hearing from the man who just told you he didn't want you in his life anymore ... his sad, wistful, "I miss you so much" voice on the other end of the phone? It's validating. It's exciting. It's irresistible. But resist you must
• A man who wants to make a relationship work will move mountains to keep the woman he loves. If he's not calling you to tell you he loves you and wants you back, it should only be because he's showing up at your new residence to do it in person... If he's not doing any of that, he may love you, he may miss you, but ultimately he's just not that into you. Stop taking his calls and let him know what it's like to live without you.
• Don't be flattered that he misses you. He should miss you. You're deeply missable. However, he's still the same person who just broke up with you. Remember, the only reason he can miss you is because he's choosing, every day, not to be with you.
• "Friends" after a break up? For the record, this guy doesn't "like you so much that he can't stop being around you." Because here's what guys don't do if they can't live without you: they don't break up with you. This guy is seriously not into you, it's crazy. The only way you're going to figure out how into you he is... is how fast you get rid of him.
• It's very tempting when you really want to be with someone to settle for much, much less -- even a vague pathetic facsimile of less -- than you would have ever imagined. Remember always what you set out to get and please don't settle for less. These guys exist because there are a lot of women out there who allow them to.
• He's sniffing for something better, and when he doesn't find it, he gets lonely and comes "home." It's not that he's so into you. It's that he's so not into being alone. Don't give him the chance to break up with you for the fourth time. (Even the idea of it sounds beneath you, doesn't it?) Reset your breakup maximum to one and move on.
• Deciding to get back together with someone is a complicated and difficult decision. Just remember that the person you are getting back together with is the same person who, not long before, looked you in your beautiful face, took full stock of you and all your qualities, and told you that he was no longer in need of your company.
• Don't confuse being classy with being a doormat. Classy is walking away with your head held high, graciously, and with all dignity. Being a doormat is offering to drive him to the dentist for his root canal.
• Breakups, I've heard, are supposed to be just that. Breaks. Hard, clean breaks. No talking, no seeing, no touching ... keep your hands to yourself. The relationship is over. Half the people I know move after a huge breakup, and frankly that makes perfect sense to me. You're not supposed to sleep with the guy who just broke your heart a week ago. Fine. Next time I'm in this situation I'll cry. Stay in bed and wail. Go to the gym if I can. Call all my friends and burden them with my misery. Sleep too much. Cry some more. See my therapist more often. Get a puppy. Do whatever I have to so eventually I can move on.
• Cut him off. Let him miss you.
• He doesn't need to be reminded that you're great.
• There's a guy out there who's going to be really happy that you didn't get back together with your crappy ex-boyfriend.
• The reason it's so painful when someone disappears is you have to face the fact that the person you loved had probably left you a long time before he grabbed his coat and scrammed. The part is realizing that he was lying to you, in some way, before the moment of vanishing.
• Don't give him the chance to reject you again.
• No matter how powerful and real your feelings may be for someone, if that person cannot fully and honestly return them and therefore actively love you back, these feelings mean nothing.
• Being lonely ... being alone ... for many people ... sucks. I get it, I get it, I get it. But still I have to say that yes, my belief is that being with somebody who makes you feel shitty or doesn't honor the person you are is worse.
• Life is hard enough as it is without choosing someone difficult to share it with.
• You deserve to be with someone who is nice to you all the time.

Rule of Thumb

"She said, 'Believe it or not, I used to be idealistic.' I asked her what 'idealistic' meant. 'It means you live by what you think is right.' 'You don't do that anymore?' 'There are questions I don't ask anymore.'"

By the time you are reading this my cast will be off, my wrist will be free, and I will have the simple pleasure of being able to do things again like a normal person.

I am expecting some soreness and some muscle atrophy, but I am already thinking of the things my wrist and I are going to do together when we are reunited at last.

Perhaps we will open a bunch of jars and close them again. Maybe we'll go for a walk and give strangers high fives and handshakes just because we can. And then we will have a good time opening a bottle of purelle after each encounter- just to be safe. Then maybe we will snap our fingers along to harmonic melodies. Maybe we'll go to a rock show and when the band performs a mellow ballad, we can bring out a lighter and wave it in the air rhythmically. Oh and then we can eat properly again with utensils. And in celebration of being capable again, I will get all dolled up and have a party. I will wash my hair (by myself!) and braid it and tie my shoelaces and give thumbs-up signs to everyone who will accept them.

And then I will write about these adventures. With a pencil! Because now I have the ability to hold one!

FANTASTIC!

TLC

I hope that one day you will have the experience of doing something you do not understand for someone you love

Shows on TLC make me emotional. They are educational and inspirational and a lot of life lessons are learned. I especially like the shows about parenting. I used to watch shows like "A Baby Story" and "Super Nanny" and "I Didn't Know I Was Pregnant" when I was young. This may seem strange, but I wanted to be an obstetrician, and I also (as mentioned before) feel passionate about working with kids and encouraging and inspiring them. Super Nanny is a saint.

However, I just saw a commercial for the show "Toddlers in Tiaras" about kids beauty pageants and I saw a toddler-- more dolled up and dressed up at 3 years old than I have ever been in my life-- having a temper tantrum and yelling at her mother with a pacificer in her mouth.

These shows inspire me to be a good parent. Not anytime soon though. Maybe in a thousand years.

I hope that when I am a parent I don't speak to my children in third-person.

Marley wants her kids to learn proper grammar.

"When People Get Married and Their Marriage Lasts and Lasts and Lasts, Does That Mean They Just Never Get to Experience Heartbreak Again? What a Sad Thought."

A rare moment. None of the children were screaming, nothing to rush to, money in the bank. He remembered, for an instant, he loved her.

I've been writing a story about a man who purposely makes life difficult for his wife. He screws the lids back on the jars too tightly. He places things high up on shelves and out of her reach. He packs bags so they are too heavy. He does this so that she will need him. For special occasions, like before his birthday or their anniversary, he will rewire the engine in her car and remove necessary parts of the dishwasher.

I'm not sure how it will end. Perhaps his extreme need for her attention and affection and his inability to express this will slowly tear them apart as she gets frustrated with her things 'mysteriously' breaking and her lack of independence while always needing his help to do things for her. Or maybe he'll accidentally kill her.

Having babies means giving up sushi and caffiene and alcohol and go karts and all the other things that make life worth living. But the good news is, you get to vomit all the time.
If you're not the person giving birth, this would be a great time to say "You're doing awesome" ...and then faint.
If any of you are looking to make babies, or if you have a baby on the way (Ahem, Mr. Horton)
You should watch this

Return To The Real World

I AM SO SAD THAT THE WEEKEND IS OVER!

You know when you're having such an amazing time that when its over its just so sad and you want it all back? It seems stupid to be sad about having a great time, when we should really just appreciate what we have experienced. BUT IT HAPPENS! No one wants to go back to the real world after we've just spent our days sleeping in until whenever we want, moseying along the main streets and in and out of tourist shops, having room service and people to make your bed for you, and eating who-knows-how-many-calories, because... who cares! You're on vacation!

My favorite part of the weekend was our romantic dinner at the Keg. And how John had to cut my steak and crack open my crab for me. What a gentleman.

I get my cast off in three days!

So Live Your Life Ayaayaaayaaay

Last night my boyfriend won $750 on a slot machine at the Casino while showing me how it works. We had been there for less than 5 minutes!

Now he's been 'quite adamant' (in his words) about how if one thing was different about our day, that may not have happened. Such as, if we didn't have such trouble finding an atm at the casino (which seems unusual), if we didn't take such a long break from being touristy to watch the sopranos in our hotel room, if we didn't drink an entire bottle of vodka and rap 'Live Your Life' by Rihanna and T.I before we went out.

I also think if I didn't make him rub the statue of buddha's belly (as mentioned yesterday) or agree to sit at the slot machine I picked out, or if we didn't have a long conversation about how he calls the tv remote control a converter... things would have been different last night.

Ask Me Where I'm Going- Who Knows? Ahead.

I'm in Niagara Falls!!!

Its beautiful here and I feel like I'm in a 24/7 carnival! There's candy and chocolate and ice cream in every tourist's hand, a huge ferris wheel right in the middle of the city, and an arcade to every 25 people. There's honestly an arcade on every block! Unfortunately my air hockey skills are lacking due to my broken wrist, and Skee-ball is just not happening.

I rubbed a statue of Buddha made out of 3million dollars worth of shredded American money. Now I'm off to the casino to test Buddha's luck.

Being here for my first vacation in a while makes me so excited for my future travels. The world is a big place ...Unlike my hotel room, which barely fits a queen-sized bed and a clock radio.

The Return of Mr. Dressup

You may or may not remember the post that I dedicated to Mr. Dressup. I mentioned in it that I drove past the house he used to live in, in Pickering.
Last night I received an anonymous comment on that blog post that I'd like to share.

"I now live in that house in Pickering. It was a 50's bungalow that Mr D added an addition on to in the 80's to make it a split level. He did most of the cabinets and moldings, He was a superb finish carpenter - very precise. His electrical handiwork was more like a TV stage (extension cords inside the walls). I believe he was a set designer. We found a bottle of wine that he made, a painting on an old piece of plywood that he did, his golf clubs. Sorry, No tickle trunk ...We put his toilet out on the roadside when we renovated the bathroom - no takers - sad to say."

I'm intrigued. Did the new owner of Mr. Dressup's house randomly find my blog?! I wonder what that painting on the piece of plywood looks like.

In other news, I'm going to Niagara Falls this weekend. I will continue to blog from afar.

Handwritten Letters

There is nothing that makes me happier than a handwritten letter from my grandparents.

I once found a letter at their house from a well-known house hold supplies company, apologizing and thanking my Grandfather for the letter he wrote to them to inform them of the inadequate perforations in his toilet paper. He also has been known to call Ritz when his box of crackers is too crumbly.

My most prized possession is a locket they gave me with their picture in it. I wear it close to my heart and show it off to everyone I know.

Five Love Languages

Update on my wrist: It is still broken.
I wrote a 2-hour exam left-handed today, and let me tell you... writing my name three times on three different papers was the hardest part. I can't open granola bar packages, so in the morning I use scissors to open the package and then put it into a ziplock bag. I was brushing my teeth at school after I had gotten sick (my painkillers make me nauseas) and a girl bumped into me. Someone with a normally functioning hand would have no problem with this, but my toothbrush fell on the floor. I have a cold from the stress I let myself go through last week and I need someone to open my cough syrup every 6-8 hours. I dropped my uncapped toothpaste in the garbage and decided to leave it there. I made chicken noodle soup to eat, but by the time my unsteady left hand reaches my mouth there's not much left on the spoon.
I'm glad there's a shoppers across the street from me. I've been there just about every day since I broke my wrist to replace things or buy things to make my life easier.

I'm not whining or complaining. I've laughed through the majority of this process.
Maybe by the time my cast is taken off my left hand and I will get along much better.

I read this book called "The 5 Love Languages"... actually, I read the whole series. Its this theory that there are 5 different ways of showing love, and they are:
1. Words of Affirmation
2. Affection
3. Gifts
4. Quality Time
5. Acts of Service

Of those five, you have one language that you use primarily to show your love, and one that is how you prefer to receive love. Of course it's nice to have a good balance of the five, but this theory helped to change the way I treat others. As I get closer to them, whether they are friends, parents, or a significant other, you learn the way that gets to them the best.

I swear to you, if you make the effort to speak the right language, it brings your relationships so much closer.

Your Nerves Gather With The Altitude, Exhale The Stress So You Don't Come Unglued

Bad things happen so you can reassess. Bad things happen right when you start to get so content and so comfortable with things in your life to show you that things can change. Bad things happen so you can look past the negatives and appreciate the positives.

In the lessons I'm learning from my accident- other than how to brush my teeth with my left hand- I realized how amazing my friends are, and how no matter what is going on in their lives, we're ready to drop everything to help others when they need it.

I believe in the universe. If you put things out to the universe it will listen and make things happen. I was so shocked and upset after my recent accident that left me with a broken wrist. "What? I didn't plan for this!?"

And then I remembered, a few weeks ago in the locker room at school hearing a story about a girl that broke her arm and couldn't complete the semester. And I thought "that's the worst thing that could happen to me right now".
The universe listens.

That being said, however this came upon me it is a learning experience. I am finding ways to make things work and I'm so lucky to have so many friends who care, especially when my family is on the other side of the country.

I also believe that people get sick when they put it out to the universe or when their emotional well-being takes a hit. I definitely let my emotional well-being take a hit this week, and my throat is sore which is on my top three list of things I don't like

"Hey there I hear you like drinkin beverages and eatin food, well how about we make that uncomfortable and downright painful for you" GOSH

Broken Bones: Day 2

My left hand is really picking up the slack.

But there are some things that I just can't do on my own yet. I had a great time watching and teaching my boyfriend blowdry my hair and put it in a ponytail. And I can't say he did a bad job!

There are some regular things that I've made adjustments to in my daily routine.
Instead of buttering my toast I have to toast my butter. This requires a lot of elbow movement. And laughter.

In my bitter moments (I'll be honest, sometimes I'm wreck.) I've been singing beyonce's "irreplaceable" to my wrist.

I keep making jokes about how I'm single-handedly doing things and in my percocet highs I think I am hilarious... Because.. I literally only have one hand.. To work with. HA!

(Percocets may or may not have been used in the making of this blog post)

Anyway, good news. All that milk I drink came in handy. The doctor said the break is a lot less dramatic than it should have been, therefore ill be cast-free in two weeks!

Grief Never Mended Broken Bones

I'm not trying to be sassy or anything, but I literally saved a life the other day and prevented a woman from going into glycemic shock. And then this happened. As my dad would say: No good deed goes unpunished.

I'm currently typing with one hand.
I'm currently high on percocet
I've literally got an itch that I can't scratch
I'm worried about the next few weeks of my life
I'm angry at myself for letting this happen
And I'm really going to have to learn to be ambidextrous.

I'm really appreciative for everyone sending me their well wishes and praying  for me to get back into the clinic soon. I really appreciate the nice stranger that assisted me after I fell. I appreciate how nice and helpful my teachers were about getting me to the hospital and making arrangements and solutions for how I'm going to make the next few weeks work. I appreciate Tiffany for missing her clinic demo time to accompany me to the hospital and for telling me to stop looking at the enormous swelling of my wrist. I appreciate Sean for getting to me during rush hour and taking the morning off of work so he could stay with me at the hospital to take care of me and get my pain medication and comfort food. I appreciate my mom for not pointing out how preventable this would have been by wearing wrist guards. I appreciate Nassir, the maintenance man in my building who offered to get my groceries when I need them.

And I really appreciate John for missing his volleyball game to see me, and for bringing me flowers, buying me dinner, opening jars, cutting up my food, occasionally feeding me when my left hand got tired, listening to me cry, helping me get dressed and picking out clothes that are appropriate enough for me to dress myself for school, watching greys anatomy with me even though he probably doesn't like it, letting me try (and laughing at me) while I attempted to single-handedly put toothpaste on my toothbrush by myself, and for agreeing to wash/blowdry my hair everyday for the next six weeks or so.

Fold Your Wings, You'll Need Them One More Day

This thing between my lungs is making me so tired.

I'm trying to write short stories.
I'm trying to find inspiration in little things and little feelings. I don't remember if I slept last night because I was thinking of storylines. They come to me when I'm half asleep. They come to me when I'm inbetween consciousness. I've been writing down a few sentences and paragraphs here and there. Perhaps one day they will grow into something novel-worthy. I have a few to work from. I have a few stort stories and scripts I've written months/years ago that I will revisit.

One of my favorite short stories I've ever written was about a man and the love he has for his woman. It takes place in their bed in the middle of the night. Perhaps he had never fallen asleep, perhaps it was just a moment of thought as he turned over in his bed, perhaps his thinking about her was keeping him awake all night. He talks about her body. Her eyes. Her thoughts. Her mind and how he cannot read it. How much he loves her and how unsure he is that it is not mutual. He talks about her in that moment, asleep. Dreaming and breathing. The image of the bedsheets over her body, as if they were breathing too. And about holding her, running his hands over the indents in her back from where her wings used to be.

...I think my mother was the only person I showed it to.
And she didn't get it.
"What wings? Huh?"
...It's cause she was an angel mom. Or at least he saw her as his angel... get it? It's poetic.
Ah forget it.

And if there were a soundtrack for my unfinished short story, it would be this:
(thank you Ehren for the song)

All Women Become Like Their Mothers. That Is Their Tragedy. No Man Does. That's His

I can remember the first time I had to go to sleep. Mom said, 'Time to go to sleep.' I said, 'But I don't know how.' She said, 'It's real easy. Just go down to the end of tired and hang a left.' So I went down to the end of tired, and just out of curiosity I hung a right. My mother was there, and she said 'I thought I told you to go to sleep'

"It's okay to sit in your bathroom and cry once in a while"
--My mother's advice on parenting.

Happy Mother's Day.

I just called home and my Mom was out at Mcdonalds getting lunch for my brother. Isn't that nice? I asked what he was going to do for her for Mother's day... He said he's going to do the dishes. Sounds like something he'd do. For the last few years he has given me a turkey sandwich for my birthday.

Nice kid, really.



I MISSED BETTY WHITE ON SNL!! NOOOOOOOOOOO
If you did too and want to catch up check it out by clicking here

Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long

Poetry doesn't belong to those who write it; it belongs to those who need it.

Putting the things you want to say into rhymes makes messages much more romantic, intelligent, and interesting. (This is why I am so fascinated by my blog-commenting-poet, xo)

I spent an hour in Hallmark and Carlton Cards this morning and came out with nothing. My expectations for greeting cards and love letters are much higher after all the reading I've been doing lately. Pablo Neruda, you've ruined me.

I have another problem that his keeping me up at night, and his name is Pablo Neruda. However, it isn't so much a problem more than an intense passion and admiration. This man was on another wavelength. He was so in tune with love and nature and the world, no one compares to him. There is a Neruda for every season.

I am inspired.
I highly recommend watching the movie Il Postino.
There is an undescribable beauty to it. I appreciate:
1) the beauty of the ocean
2) the lovely music
3) the Italian language
4) the poetry of Pablo Neruda
5) the time that the Nobel Peace Prize poet spends with a poor mail deliverer who comes up hills on his bicycle, explaining to him what is a metaphor
6) the beautiful and sincere friendship between the two men
7) the love that Neruda has for his woman, and
8) how Mario wants to impress the woman of his dreams with nothing else, but the poetry written by Neruda.

The lead actor in this movie, Massimo Troisi postponed heart surgery so he could complete the film. The day after filming was complete, he suffered a fatal heart attack

I always wonder what has happened to the writers to inspire them to write the way they do. Neruda was not from this world.

This is my favorite poem by Pablo Neruda. I was introduced to it in my grade 12 spanish class when we were assigned to translate it from spanish to english. It touched me so deeply that I never forgot it.
Tonight I Can Write

A Stranger's Just A Friend You Probably Won't Like

Today's the last day to vote for my diabetes video! Please send an email to videocontest@jdrf.ca with the subject line: "I Vote for Video C"

Let's talk about fears... again.
My worst fear EVER, is an intruder in my house. I'm so terrified of this and it affects my sleep if I'm alone. Even when I was little I used to sleep under piles of blankets... because somehow I thought this kept me safe. There is nothing worse to me than the feeling of being scared that there is someone breaking in to my house.

Therefore, it is very important to know when my roommate has guests over, or else this may result in me making a fool out of myself and having to apologize to the nice people at emergency services.
Just kidding, I didn't actually call 911... but I did have it dialed and ready to go, just in case.

I feel like she fell off the radar once she quit twitter, but HAVE YOU SEEN Miley Cyrus' new video?! I never thought I'd say this but WOW. I like it. The video isn't supposed to be relased until June but here's a link to see it on E! news
Miley Cyrus: Can't Be Tamed

I Was Sick With Anticipation But I Have Been Cured!

I can do things after waking up in the middle of the night that I can not ordinarily do. Its like finding a secret pocket of time

Before I'm asleep, when I'm in between conscious and unconscious I start to see little fragments of my dreams, so I see my dreams before they happen. I know what kind of night I'm in for.

I've been dreaming about teeth, and amusement parks, and car accidents, video editing, and playdough.

Speaking of playdough, I've been revisiting childhood toys. Pollypockets from my time are much different from modern pollypockets. Now they're bigger, which makes sense. How many pollypockets were eaten in the 90's?

Tell me about your favorite childhood toys.
But don't tell me about your easy-bake oven because I never had one and I will enter into a fit of rage and jealousy.

HOWEVER, my mother's reasoning for not buying me an easy-bake oven was because we had a real oven to bake real goods in.

And now I am an excellent baker... If I do say so myself.

No Barry White, Let's NOT Get It On.

She’s talking to me on the telephone which I hate doing, but she insists.
She is crying or eating marshmallows, and her voice sounds like packed down snow. “I just don’t know what to do anymore,” She is saying. She’s talking about her boyfriend, or ex-boyfriend... I lose track of his prefix status daily and it’s direct relation to the given situation.
I am sitting in my kitchen, in my underwear. The microwave clock is trying on 1:37 am, it fits. My elbow rests on the table with my head in my hands. I am watching the cat eat tiny, brown and orange X’s and O’s, Only occasionally looking up at me with a look that might say, “You want some?”, I do not.
“We’ve been together so long I forget what it’s like, to be single, you know what I mean?” I do not know what she means.
I lie down on the tile and let the cold sting come on strong then slowly subside. I stare at my cat from a new, much shorter distance, watching cats eat close up is kind of disgusting. “I just don’t know what I’m going to do, I just don’t know how I’ll go on with my life.”
Crying, marshmallow, marshmallow, packed down snow,
Tiny orange X, tiny brown O, purr, grumble, swallow.
“Thank you so much for listening to me, I think I need to call him, to straighten this all out.”
Marshmallows, packed down snow, brown X’s
cold kitchen tiles, 1:49, dial tone


I may have accidentally accepted the task of writing a heartfelt bridesmaid wedding speech... for someone I don't know. I can't do this. How am I supposed to write about our inside jokes and good (possibly embarassing) stories if I don't know the person?
 
My nights have been spent studying and writing and video-editing and eating at the same time, and being haunted in my dreams by editing shortcuts and Barry White songs.

If My Heart Were A Compass, You'd Be North

"do you want anything from tim horton's?"
"yeah, a blueberry muffin."
"and if they don't have any?"
"... burn it down."

I have this problem where I get ideas and can't stop thinking about them even though I should be asleep. I also have this thing where I'll find an opportunity or an idea for something I want to do, and I'll research it for  hours and hours and hours when I should be doing something else, such as studying. And then a few days later I realize I don't want to do that and probably never will.

Therefore, I have a lot of useless knowledge such as:
How to move to Florida and get a job at Disneyworld
How to train seeing-eye dogs
How to deliver a baby
How to make home-made alcohol/wine
How to get a green card
How to become a nanny and teach english to children while learning spanish in spain
How to make beef bourguignon
How to play "Don't Cry For me Argentina" on the piano... with mittens on
How to audition to be perform in Evita on broadway in the UK
How to give a Rorschach inkblot test to roommates or animals

I should learn how to sharpen up my sleeping skills

Ps, there are 5 days left to vote for my diabetes video in the Juvenile Diabetes Research Foundation video contest! Email videocontest@jdrf.ca with the subject line: I vote Video C

I'd Rather Pick Flowers Instead Of Fights

Talking only brings the toothaches on
Because I say the stupidest things
So if my result goes south
I'll swallow my pride with an Aspirin
And shut my mouth

There’s love to be found hidden somewhere between the noise corduroy pants make and knowing every line to her favorite movie. Being drunker than acceptable for a job interview, I explained on my application (under hobbies and interests) how I spent my time watching the sun stretch its way across my hardwood floor on Sunday mornings.
And there is something very real about 5:43 pm and learning something new. Like how far away the sun is from the earth. Or exactly how many steps (heel to toe) it takes to walk to the post office.
They never called me back
and I suppose that’s understandable
I never really wanted the job anyway.

If My Heart Were A House...

Cause your heart has a lack of color and we should've known that we'd grow up sooner or later cause we wasted all our free time alone

We start asking children shortly after they can even talk, what they want to be when they grow up. We start putting these questions in their heads early.

What are you going to choose to do every day for the rest of your life?
Which career will be the one that defines you?

We influence them to start thinking about this asap. While they're still learning about themselves.
When they're young, the world is their oyster.
...Whatever that means. I don't understand where that phrase came from.
What do oysters have to do with anything?

Give me enough time in my life to grow up.

Where do I want to be in 10 years?

...Everywhere at once.