Burnt Out Head on a Broken Match Stick

No, I promise this won’t be a “wah wah boo hoo” post about something or other but this morning, I woke up on what you could call the wrong side of the bed. I was thinking about things I’ve done wrong and feelings of insecurity that I’d rather not have. I guess I got into the wrong side of the bed as well, because I was thinking about the same things as I fell asleep last night. I haven’t ever really worried about this feeling because it used to happen so regularly that I just took it as a part of normal life but now, there’s nothing I fear more than feeling this way permanently again. I’ve finally realized, not everyone feels this way. So I’m scared CRAPLESS that I could end up falling into the same hole I was in last year. It’s funny how you forget what it’s like to feel balanced when you’ve felt crappy for so long. It’s even funnier how grateful you become when you no longer feel like you have to lie in fetal position to feel in control.

Among other wonderful realizations I’ve had in the last two months, I’ve become acutely aware of mortality–mine and of those I love–because really, we’re all dying, we’re just doing it at different rates. Apart from making me think about what I believe about life and death, this has actually affected the way I behave. I’d like to think that I’m a little bit more careful with my words just because I realize I’m not guaranteed an opportunity to apologize for my stupidity. That, and I’m trying to be a better person, not just because I should have been doing that all along, but because I realize that I’ll be accountable for my actions, if not now then at some point, and it’s bound to affect how I will feel about passing. Anyway, the point of telling you all these things that I’ll regret writing about in a couple of hours is this: I’m okay. Wrong side of the bed? I can deal with it. Bad rehearsal? I can deal. Bad test? I have a feeling I’ll be dealing with that a lot! This probably sounds kind of depressing and morbid, but I’m actually happy writing this…now I just have to consider whether I’ll actually post it!

Singing in the Rain

I often scare people on my street by singing loudly while listening to my Ipod. I’m pretty unapologetic about it. My neighbourhood is filled with suburbanites who only venture outside without their car when they have to walk the dog, leaving me (only a part time driver) and a few others the only people who walk down the street at any given time. This gives me a certain sense of ownership, which I exercise by singing. I’m acutely aware of the fact that when people see me, they probably either think I’m intoxicated, or more than a little eccentric but this is an acceptable risk to take! One day, as I was walking down the street singing, it suddenly occurred to me that maybe not so long ago, seeing someone sing to themselves wouldn’t be so strange. It seems that recently (I’m not old enough to tell how recently) publicly eliminating all human sounds is the best way to be considered “normal”…no humming, singing, whistling or even small talk with the person next to you. If you’re in for a long commute (using whatever method of transportation), you read, you talk on your cellphone, you text, you use a laptop, you listen to music, in short, you do everything except for actually being present in the plane of existence you’re in. We make alternate bubbles of reality for ourselves by drowning out all evidence that there are people around us. The sad thing is, we can go days without any real human interaction without trying too hard.

Fromage

I wish I could write about how the beauty of the fall colours against today’s blue October sky took my breath away, made me wish I had my camera and then made me wonder if any picture could actually capture the feeling I got when I saw it without sounding cheesy.

There…I said it, cheese and all.

The Muck

Do we really ever know anyone? It may sound a little melodramatic, but who do you know? There are at least three people in my life that I feel like I know. I intuitively know what they would think about any given subject in the world, I know what they look like when they’re sick, tired, unhappy or hungry, I know what’ll make them laugh and I know what particularly cheeses them off and lucky for me, they know me the same way. I can’t say how grateful I am that I have them but the three of us aren’t related (at least not in terms of DNA) which makes me wonder, how well do you know your family? How well should you know your family? This doesn’t mean to say I don’t know mine. There will always be a visceral bond between us and we know each other when we’re stripped down to our bare minimum, but how do you describe family relationships?

An Unceremonious Thanksgiving

Some things to be thankful for:

1. The beauty of October mornings. Is it just me or is the sky really bluer, the air really crisper and the contrast between the colours sharper in October?

2. Watching the sun rise from the back window of a bus on my way to a ten hour day.

3. Bus drivers who wait for you while you run for the bus

4. A mom who’s willing to drive over to where I am to bring me things that I forgot.

Also, thanks to Martin Forbisher for celebrating the first Canadian thanksgiving because even though I know you shouldn’t wait for a specific day to be thankful, this time of year tends to remind me to stop complaining and blog about all the lovely things I’m happy about on an everyday basis (which I often forget about by the weekend).

We Stand On Guard For Thee

Before I actually begin, I would like to take the time to wish you all a happy national sarcasm awareness week–the most holy of the awareness weeks. Oh sarcasm, where would I be without thee?

It’s been a while since I’ve written, but it’s not for a lack of things to write about, it’s really just because there’s been a lack of seminal events, which doesn’t usually prevent me from blithering on about nothing, but it makes it far more difficult to do. Fear not, I have amazing powers of one way banter and inexhaustible powers of procrastination.

I want to announce to the world: I’m done with elections of all kind. I’ve had many problems with the recent glut of North American election action. First and foremost, why is it that even though we have our very own election here in America junior Canada, there has been intense coverage of the American election. I don’t have a problem with this per se as it is always interesting to know when Biden tells a paraplegic to stand up, or when Pailin shoots down another wolf from a helicopter, but we have our own election right here which many citizens are woefully unprepared for.