YOU'VE GOT MAIL...!!!

Yay! Today I received my books for school -

CGA Ethics Reading Hand Book - check!!
Fundamental Accounting Principles Vol. 1 - check..!
Fundamental Accounting Principles Vol. 2 - check...!?
Mathematics for Business CGA Reference Handbook - check...?!
Test Schedule - checkerrohmygod...

Ah what the hell, I figure it can't be all that hard, I apparently have a natural knack for it... but still, I don't think I've seen mathematic symbols like this EVER...(flipping through text...)...and my first test is in 2 weeks...(peering at test schedule...)...Or rather my first three...(paling slightly...)...Oy Vey...(sees breakdown of percentages...)...final exam worth 70% of Final Grade...(Falls off Seat...)...

I love torturing myself, apparently...

See More Glass...

Such a fabulous weekend...

So, I finally got that piece of paper that indicates I am allowed to operate a 4 wheeled motorized thing, preferably not under the influence of alcohol and of course by law I need other folks in this machine with me at all times, I guess because its illegal to die a horrible death alone... BONUS though... I only need this L thing in my window for 6 months because the powers-that-be actually awknowledged my previous motorcar experience and the thousands of dollars spent. Currently the L is holding up my grocery list on the stove whilst I embark on the journey of searching for a car that isn't too expensive but not a complete piece of shit... I wonder what you can buy for (slowly counting the change in my wallet) - $1.84?

I also purchased a small blue and red siamese fighting fish yesterday which I christened "Cthulhu Bob". You see C.B. believes that he is a serious marauding demon fish of the deep (um... deep 2 gallon tank...) and the king of his domain - but he's really a slack jaw hick who likes to listen to field recordings of hollerin' hillbillies. He also seems to have an affinity for watching "Black Adder" and the Buddha that lives with him in his little bowl.

I made pancakes by myself for the first time EVER and without someone hovering saying 'you're doing it wrong, that's not the way I do it blah blah blah' - I simply said I want to make 'em because I never really had done so all by myself - and was told 'No problem, if you need assistance you can ask, but go at it.' No hovering or criticism - I think honestly, they were the best damn pancakes I have ever had in my ENTIRE life. It helped of course, that I had good company too.

Have been introduced to H.P. Lovecraft. I love the style of writing, and my god so freaky for the times. Loved it so much, it inspired the naming of my fishie. Also read some J.D. Salinger short stories. Aloud. Yep, reading stories to people. So much fun. And the conversations after reading them? Brilliant. We probably spent a good couple of hours reading and discussing stories.

What a weekend...

Cabbage Tycoon...

I think I might get my drivers license tomorrow...

and that has EVERYTHING to do with Cabbages.

I will remember you...

I had the strangest dream last night. Well, I wouldn't say it was strange per say, but the people in the dream, I hadn't seen or spoken to in a very long time. This was not entirely strange, but enough to make me think (See? More thinking...). I feel a deep release is about to follow...

You see, the people that I had dreamed about (actually they are a couple) - we used to be really good friends. The young woman was my best friend for a long time. Of course, things change in a persons life, events take place. People grow apart, things fall apart. Now, the realization that I have is of course, these people were obviously important to me and why the hell would I employ a lack of effort in order to keep this friendship alive, which ended up causing the end of it? Sure, people argue, people get mad - referencing a past post - people can be difficult friends, but certainly are worth the work. I sit baffled at times: How could I let pride, selfish pride, destroy a friendship that had been deep and (what I had hoped) lasting?

I remember the day she cut off all her hair (she had really long hair) - I remember we sat in Starbucks, her hair falling around her face - her blue eyes shining bright as she grew more excited about it. I remember we would sit on my parents patio, I'd smoke cigarettes, we'd drink wine and beer, Grandma would come out and chat with us. I remember the time she took me into Birks and showed me the ring she wanted when she got engaged to her boyfriend. They get married soon, nearly 10 years later. I remember the day she quit her job downtown. Oh, how she hated that job. I remember taking her to Catus Club and we'd get loaded off martinis as we bitched about the world. I remember how we held each others hearts when the tough got real tough in both our lives. I remember the demise of this relationship, as if it were yesterday. I remember watching in horror as it fell apart. I remember wishing I wasn't so stubborn and proud, so desperate to be right, to be on top, how I wanted so desperately to be humble. I remember the way we coldly ignored each other at a barbeque. I remember getting married and wishing that I just sucked it up and said I was sorry, but knew that it was too late, our lives had changed so much that it would only hurt too much. I remember after I left my husband, I heard the news that she was getting married. I remember how bitter I felt, then sad, because I was only bitter at myself.

I look now and I have discovered that our culture has made it difficult for women to have healthy, happy relationships with each other. It is ingrained in us to fight for equality, but at the cost of our fellow womanfriends. We cut the balls off the boys, but also sever the ovaries of the girls. We start out as friends for life, people who will protect each other and be sisters. But then we start to undermine each other, undercut each other. Then we cover it up with "girl chat" and superficial activities - so that the pain we feel as we hurt our girlfriends and ourselves is numbed. Over time, the scars stop healing because we have poisoned the blood bond to a point where all is left is a rotting corpse that once was a beautiful friendship.

We work hard on our relationships with the partners in our lives, but why not the bestfriends? Why is it okay to treat them like crap and figure it's okay?

I don't know what the point of all this is. I doubt very much she even thinks about me at all. Sadly although truthfully - I am alright with that. In fact it's probably for the best. We've both changed so much, and I am content with the good memories that I have. But I will say this, where you can find it if you want it, and I can finally put it to rest:

Tracy, I am sorry.

Prehistoric Plants Part Paths to Pat's Place...

I nearly had to kick someone out of my house this weekend. To clarify first, I was having a gathering over the weekend in honour of a very important and close friend who happened to come down for a few days from up North. There's three of us important close friends, and we get along super well. In fact we are going to commission Todd McFarlane to make for us action figures that interconnect to create a giant robot we have come to call "AWKWERD'BOT". We even have a catch phrase which is Akwerd'bot unite! It's funny... Really.

BUT ANYWAY... as a result of the return of the friend from the North my house was innandated with people. Most of the left late PM early AM. Some stayed way longer than they should have. Some of them lets say - were not necessarily intentionally but were trying to anyway - get me evicted by jumping up and down on the floor in attempts to skip my CD player, and basically being an ass. I think I said something like "If you don't stop that right now I will tear off all your limbs and feed them to you..." And I think I said (er... yelled...) after that "Yes I am Fucking Serious, stop fucking around, sit down and shut up..." I really should have said "Get the hell out of my house." But I didn't. Needless to say however, the other AWKWERD'BOT members stuck up for me and successfully kept it from becoming a scene. He left not to soon after. Which was fine by all of us.

But it got me thinking... (lots of stuff gets me thinking...) Why is it that we allow ourselves to have such sucky friends? I mean, we can all say 'oh they have some good merits...' but I don't know, if they are always pissing you off, does it really matter then if they have good merits or not? Why do we hold out on some of the people who drive each other nuts? I mean sure, I have friends who take a lot of work, but these are people that I have known for years. I am sure that I can be a lot of work for some of my friends. I guess we make exceptions based on return - I like to have you in my life even if its hard sometimes because the good times we do have really outweigh the bad. But damn, I don't know why I allow a few of the people I have in my life continue to be in my life, I sure as hell not getting anything good out of some of these relationships. I really don't get it.

Purposeful Purple Purpose*

There have been some major changes afoot.

Yesterday, I enrolled for my first course at the Credit Institute of Canada. My course is called Financial Accounting. This means that I am also enrolled in the CGA program. Who knew?

Today, I plan on purchasing running shoes. This is so I can start running again. Seems that Yoga doesn't get all that aggression out. Oh, don't get me wrong, I haven't become some sort of (even more so) mega bitch, I just have a lot of pent up energy... This book I am reading, Atlas Shrugged, it gets me all riled up, so I think running, among other things, could be a good alternative to alievating that stress... besides, I need to shake things up a bit, do a little cross training.

I am going surfing in March in Tofino. It's offical. We're staying in Ucleluet (or however you spell it) in some big beach front cabin. It's rented for parties of 8 and there is only four of us, but it was so cheap that we figured what the hell? We'll be so comfortable.

Been thinking about life. What it means. What makes it important, or worth living. Who I work for, what my motivation is for success. What I own about myself. What I wish I owned about myself but haven't had the courage to face it.

I get excited about the idea of re-claiming that which I lost. I realize that I can accept the fact I let parts of my life be lost through my own lack of self confidence, or allowing others to impose their lack of confidence in me - and I realize that I can finally accept that I am the only one that can take responsibility for it. Only I can be responsible for myself and my actions. I feel like I am re-learning the language that I use to communicate. I feel less misunderstood, because I take the time to respect myself and my ideas. To let them be born and to let them live or die in debate with others, rather than in the defeatest debate inside my head.

As cliche as it may sound (but what do I care?) It feels good to be alive.


*Purple is the color of my purpose.

I'll take 'morality play' for 200, Alex...

I was having a conversation with a group of people today. It was in regards to a woman's unfaithfulness to a man with another man. They felt that the 'other man' should be held in some way responsible for the demise of the relationship between the couple. I thought about it and found myself disagreeing to a certain degree. I felt that the 'other man' isn't really morally obligated to the fidelity of the relationship between the other two people. I got shot down of course, but it made me think what is morality? What makes my idea of morality more or less than another persons?

The 'other man' is immoral because he 'should know better', or that he was selfish in his needs and desires - totally disregarding the impact that these events will have on the couples' lives. But how did it become his moral responsability to uphold the relationship this woman had with her partner, or even the people directly for that matter? How did he come to be labelled as selfish? Is selfishness truly an evil thing? Is it wrong to want the best for yourself? If she had decided that she wanted to be unfaithful and she chose this man who would want to be with her anyway - is he being selfish by accepting her offer?

These actions would be seen as immoral because religion and generations of social programming have made it out to be so. It is understood (at least partially) that we have a social obligation to our fellow man, and is evident through our social security system, low income housing etc. Focusing on the self or the individual could then be considered a truly selfish (and possibly (obviously) immoral) act. But if we 'join together' in social activism (in either the private or the public sphere) and neglect the desire to obtain betterment within our own lives, wouldn't that simply reduce us to achieving as much as the lowest common denomonator? Would we not then simply be stiving for mediocrity? Would that then not be a most immoral and depraved act, only to do as good as the next person because you were afraid of how your achievements may affect them?

I am certainly not abolishing things like Compassion and Understanding. However - compassion and understanding to what cost? Because you feel obligated due to social conditioning, therefore sacrificing yourself and perhaps your own beliefs, desires and moral fabric - would this not be immoral? To go against something you believe in because its the right thing to do? What is right anyway?

Sure, this is only a pretty theory. I absolutely believe that killing a person to take their job because you want it, raping and maming a person because they have a sexual attractiveness that you want and feel you are entitled to are abhorrations, most certainly. To steal and cheat and lie are ugly behaviours. That certainly there are people out there who need a chance to make it better for themselves and if social programs help then that's good, the programs are working as they should. However, as a result of these thoughts, I have made myself out to be a total hypocrite? Maybe out there, there is some sort of happy balance. I just haven't found it yet.

It's a thought that I will keep working on...

A man, a plan, a canal - Panama

So bored. So I found the dictionary of All Consonant Words. I like this one:

bllpp.
n. a mother hen’s “all clear” signal that danger has passed.


oooh, and this one which immediately follows:

blpb.
n. the sound of someone struggling not to drown in a vat of fresh cream, as in the graphic novella Hearts and Minds by Scott McCloud; see also hgkh, sppt.

and this one:

gmmph nng m.

n. a mumbled line of dialogue by the character “Kenny” from the animated television series South Park.

KENNY: Gmmph nng m! KYLE: It’s just your imagination. There’s nothing in here with us. KENNY: NNNGH! (Sound of chains breaking and nasty slobbering noises. Kenny’s eyeballs vanish.) KYLE: Ohmigod, they killed Kenny! —Matt Graham, “South Park: Angband comes to South Park.”


this one's a little far fetched?

lrrrg rrrr grrrrv rrr shrrrrrrd.

n. a “barely decipherable moan” by the living dead news commentator Zombie Dave, as transcribed by Chris Bell (bell101.freeserve.co.uk).

I suffer from these ALL the time:

qwrts.

n. the sound of swallowing back tears of nostalgia.
<*Sigh* ... those were the days ... qwrts ... qwrts ... qwrts ... —Silverfox, ubi.com.>

This one? Well, I like the letter X:

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx.

n. an inaudible statement that sounds similar to “truth and information are not the same thing” but is actually something else.

XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX! he said. What? I yelled over the wind. It was starting to carry him away. I said, XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX! he yelled back. Truth and information are not the same thing! he shouted, and he shot up into the sky instantaneously, shrinking to a tiny black dot that hung briefly in the air and then winked out. I stood staring up at the spot where he had been. That wasn’t what he’d been trying to tell me, that truth and information weren’t the same thing. He’d been saying something else but I just hadn’t been able to get it. XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. I focused my concentration; there was a sizzling sound. It had been pressed into the sand in front of me in green glass symbols: XXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXXX. Okay, now I’d retain it and work on a translation later. Probably take me the rest of my life, I thought. —Pat Cadigan, Mindplayers


So bored...

What's a name...?

I have been bestowed with a new nickname. Thought I would test it out.
I kind of like it.

Launch the Pig!

Pig Launching. That's what I read about at work today. Apparently there are Polly - Pigs, Mandrel Pigs and even TURBO Pigs. You can launch pigs and receive pigs. Detect pigs and track pigs. You can do just about anything with a pig (gasp).

If you want to know more about Pigs... go here.
http://www.girardind.com/valves-launching.htm

Welcome to my work.

WTF mate...

I went and saw Hostel this weekend. I have to say that I am utterly proud of myself for having gone, watched the whole thing (well, except one tiny little part...) and survived. In fact I think the trailer for the re-make of "The Hills Have Eyes" freaked me out more, but not by much.
I really don't know what I think of Hostel, it wasn't the greatest story line on the surface. It did, however have some sort of subtextual social commentary that was kind of interesting and it wasn't as gorey as I thought it would be, but the parts that were, well... uck. It did its job though. Freaky, disgusting, gratuitious horror.

It set the night up for some weird shit...

So, we went and saw this film. That's just weird in its own right.
Then I saw someone I knew from highschool who looks and sounds EXACTLY the same as she did then (which would have been in 1992). In fact her voice was what I heard first which made me go 'oh good god...'She didn't recognize me (or at least didn't make it seem like she did), and sat across from me on the seabus, it was just weird...

Then we had some screaming, drunken, bloated 15 year old bitch out her friend about her substance abuse over the phone on the seabus...she was walking through the seats screaming at the top of her lungs and sat right behind us. See, this is weird because the sea bus is essentially empty... From what I heard, the friend's some kind of dope fiend and she lied about it and doesn't seem to know what she is doing with her life...the 15 year old loves her though... I think that's what she said... I couldn't tell, she was too much under the influence of alcohol for me to really understand exactly what she was berating her 'under the influence of some other substance' friend about...

Got home and thought to watch some T.V., sort of ease out of the film. All we could find was some movie with Carmen Electra as herself with a group of people on an Island that had praying mantises (mantisi?) fighting, some seriously ridiculous claymation effects - I could have sworn someone I went to University with was in it... and Nick Carter shows up at the end of the movie to save everyone. And I think it was filmed at White Pine Beach. Seriously. Then I discovered that there is a series called "Tremors", after the movies I assume... which is absurd in its own right, but this episode involved a large prehistoric shrimp that ate people.

It was weird, just plain ol' weird.

I'm angry now...

I think I just witnessed an act of the upmost self absorbed and self centered kind. I am not going to get into the details of it, but it lead me to think about some things.

Some people simply EXPECT you to take on their issues. You are fully expected to give up your time and energy and that somehow you are obligated to eat their shit because you happen to be their friend, relative, room mate, spouse, partner, whatever. Some how these labels give them the sense of entitlement to take you emotionally hostage, and if you don't respond to their power tripping - they become hostile or resort to some form of emotional blackmail in attempts to make you feel bad (or even worse) for not relenquishing your entire being to their plight. Well fuck that noise.

I think it is important to understand that when one has an issue or a situation, the expectation of support should NOT be primary. What I mean is this: You suffer from a devestating situation as a result of the choices you made. It's yours. You own it. Therefore, it should not be expected in anyway that the people around you are going to give up their time and assist, aid or even support you in that ownership. But most of us are pretty lucky. Shitty things happen, and there are people in our lives who care about us and are willing to give us a hand, whether it is emotionally, financially, spiritually even, it doesn't matter. But to demand and expect upon demand the support we feel we need is utterly selfish. Life goes on for everyone. Even if the drama in our own lives seems to consume everything in our sight does not mean that it consumes every waking moment of the people around us. We believe that because the person has an emotional investment in us we are entitled to their time and energy (and why, because we bestow them with a label?) regardless of what is going on in their lives. No wonder people after a time begin to despise each other, we are constantly in a power struggle because of our inablility to take ownership of our own issues. We have to throw it onto someone else because we can't admit to ourselves that its our issue, our hang up, our fault even.

The saddest part of this is we all do it. But maybe if we take the time and realize that the issues we have in our lives are ours and not anyone elses, that we need to take the responsiblilty - we will eventually come to accept the terms and conditions of the consequences and try to regain our personal power through other avenues rather than beating down on our loved ones with demands and expectations.

Yeah, yeah, and I know there are exceptions... but you get what I mean.

Birdie Num Num

Folks, last night was an amazing show. Jeff Tweedy is not only an amazing singer/songwriter, but a riveting performer. The very first song he played reduced my friend and I to tears. His voice, my god - was pure emotion. It was mostly just him on acoustic - he must have played at least a dozen songs. Wilco's drummer (whose name eludes me at this time) did the opening act - solo. I had never seen (or heard) anything like it. He joined Tweedy during the second set - the energy they produced together was something else.

Really, I don't think there is anything better than live music. Even with drunken noisy folks yelling - which Mr. Tweedy dealt with in the most amicable and humourous way - most notably would be the comment of "Yes, I will play all of the songs you requested, even the unintelligible ones" (in response to a very drunk person yelling out gibberish requests) - the music just washes over you, vibrating every single cell in your body, and all that distraction just falls away. There is something really honest about a live show - particularily one of this kind, it's the raw purity and the vulnerablility of the artist that makes it truly beautiful.

My only complaint - I am too old to stand for 2 hours. Good god, I almost passed out from the heat, pot fumes and the lack of personal space. But even if I fell over (which I didn't, I made it out of the crowd before anything like that could happen...) - I would almost think I had swooned over the beauty that was the music.