dog days of summer

it all started with a trip to the farmer's market in withrow park.

then came eating juicy cherries by the remains of the 1967 sculpture symposium in high park.

a picnic at christie pits with fresh summer peas from the morning market (see photo), tetra pak wine and a toronto maple leafs vs the allstars baseball game.

followed by the search for real gelato at corso italia ending up with espresso and beer and garlic pesto shrimp skewers with random Italians and a Portuguese while listening to Dr Draw (for way cheaper--read: free--than his upcoming $70 massey hall show)

a roller derby match (D-Vas vs Death Track Dolls)

finished with a delicious sangria margarita at the willow.

days you don't want to end.

my favourite summer in the city days.

saturday was one of those days.

~

In reality (kinda): july 3 - aug 11

Food for thought: Alligator by Lisa Moore

the ultimate test of faith

sometimes i just want to trade in all my thoughts and dreams and live a shallow and meaningless existence.
just to take a break.
because sometimes my brain hurts from thinking too much.
is this the ultimate test?

~
Food for thought: I Am Legend by Richard Matheson (haven't seen the movie and after reading the book, not sure i want to)

the moon, the stars...whatever...something's not in alignment

so a series of unfortunate events in the week have led me to believe that there are forces beyond my control...my, my, how my beliefs change with the passing tides...
i'm thinking i may read more about simone de beauvoir because however briefly we touched on her in existentialism class, from what i understand, she proposed the idea that our patterns of thinking were purely situational. how we act and make decisions and what we believe in should be on a case by case basis. i can completely relate to that. i mean, look at me...today...thinking that there is some external force affecting or causing the recent suicides (one, a client of the mental health team i work for and two, a resident--not our client--of a nearby boarding house that we frequent to see other clients).
i also have to wonder whether her being one of the only female existentialist thinkers, or writers, that the situation-based thinking is heavily influenced by gender. this is what is wanting me to read more.
after a recent fight of epic proportions for a couple who never fight, i got to thinking...sometimes i think girls are crazy...myself included. and it's much easier to blame the insanity on gender, but playing into the whole gender role thing makes me queasy since it's society that has created the gender roles anyway...so blaming it on an external force is a much easier way to quell the guilt, i guess. but i joke. kinda.
this situation is so unusual that i don't even know how we're to recover.

~
Music to my ears: the humming of a work computer and the buzzing of an extra large fly.
Food for thought: Veronika Decides to Die by Paulo Coelho

check this

come check out our table on saturday at Big on Bloor.

JJM - a trio of old roommates making art.
Tables G-06 & G-07 (between Westmoreland & Dovercourt)

for a taste of what to expect, follow the links below:

1st J
2nd J

life is full of contradictions

is it Camus who actually committed philosophical suicide by committing us to absurdity?
Or was it Kierkegaard because he gave up his questions to be answered by God?
According to Camus, the theistic thinkers gave up rationality and looked for hope instead. Hope in transcendence.
Staying in the absurdity and finding meaning in the situation is what brings joy. For Camus, joy is the transcendence. But doesn't that mean that he himself has committed philosophical suicide by choosing something?

~
Addicted to: LOST season 4

we are not living our own existence

some random quotes from my existentialist prof:

- you can't seduce a lady with bus stop language

- once we talk about creation we commit ourselves to a creator therefore we didn't create ourselves

- biologists are theologians in disguise because they can't describe existence

- why do we still live by these old morals (slave morality)? this is why war happened in Europe...things weren't working...this is happening now again--war, corporate culture--we are not living our own existence.

~
Music to my ears: Thom Yorke

the curse of the uni-tasker

Mark Twain has a quote that goes something like "we have 2 ears and 1 mouth so we should do double the listening"

focusing on one task at a time makes a good listener.
a really good listener is doing only one thing: paying attention. listening.
but society values the multi-tasker.
there are no awards for the good listener as there are for the person who can do it all at once.

~
Music to my ears: Mono

the story of "sc"

"sc" in the middle of a word is a good indication that the word means:

progress, becoming, in the process of being formed, not yet complete, coming into being, developing

try it:
nascent
adolescence
transcendence
luminescent
incandescent

gluttony

notes from an existentialism class: I

existentialism.
existent.
exist.
ist=latin verb=to be.
that which is. that which stands. to stand.
existence=to stand out.
how we exist in the world.
we can choose the actions that shape ourselves.
a human ability.
even if animals could ask these kinds of questions, would we understand?
existentialist thinkers tried to show others to accept they are free.
to free people from illusion.
missionary work.
(this is what got socrates in trouble. when people try to free other people, this is what happens)
the object of mood is mood itself.
when i'm seeing, can i see myself seeing?
what does it feel like to feel?
this is what it means to be conscious.
what it really means to exist.
for you. for me. for self.
to find a truth that is true to me.
to understand myself. find what is true for me. the idea of what i am.
(what good is it to construct meanings if it has no deeper significance for my life?)
reality is subjective.
==
despair vs doubt.
all of us experience despair. nobody can say they never had the chance to feel this feeling.
nobody is exempt from despair.
therefore it is a choice. you can choose it.
doubt is a quality of the intellect. an intellectual advantage.
some never have the chance to learn doubt.
everyone has the ability to choose. not choosing despair doesn't mean you're not feeling despair.
my failure to choose it means i'm living in a shallow state of consciosness.
choice = awareness of conscience.

~
Music to my ears - Queens of the Stone Age - Lullabies to Paralyze
Food for thought - Basic Writings of Existentialism - Gord Marino
In reality - R.I.P Paul Croutch

weird dreams and dark shoegaze

why do i get this feeling that there is something you're not telling me?
why do i have thoughts in my head that are so creative and compelling and yet my fingers can't seem to get them out right?
the story i've created about your little secret involves forbidden intimacy between friends, perhaps being found out by another friend, a mental breakdown, a break between two former lovers, an ultimatum between two friends which involves not wanting to hurt me, and so the band breaks?
for now a truce has been made, but how long can you survive this little game?
how long can your devastating secret lie dormant?
two people want to tell me and you won't let them.
you're more powerful than i thought.

~
Music to my ears: Nadja

holden was my hero

moving means purging. especially moving to a place half the size of the previous, with double the books. it's time for my duplicate copy of The Catcher in the Rye to move on.
before it goes, a collection of underlined passages and dog-eared pages...

p. 87 - I'm always saying "Glad to've met you" to somebody I'm not at all glad I met. If you want to stay alive, you have to say that stuff, though.
p. 92 - The thing is, most of the time when you're coming pretty close to doing it with a girl--a girl that isn't a prostitute or anything, I mean--she keeps telling you to stop. The trouble with me is, I stop. Most guys don't. I can't help it. You never know whether they really want you to stop, or whether they're just scared as hell, or whether they're just telling you to stop so that if you do go through with it, the blame'll be on you, not them. Anyway, I keep stopping.
p.110 - (can't remember why i ever dog-eared this page, here's a guess) All the two of them were eating for breakfast was toast and coffee. That depressed me. I hate it if I'm eating bacon and eggs or something and somebody else is only eating toast and coffee.
p. 121 - Nobody'd be different. The only thing that would be different would be you.
p. 123 - (a funny page about how boring most guys are)
p. 125 - (can't remember why this page was dog-eared)
p. 130-131 - (these 2 pages always made me sad because here was Holden saying that he hated things that most people are into and was only sticking around because of this girl and clearly she doesn't give a shit, and he realizes that she's just one of those people he hates) "Take most people, they're crazy about cars. They worry if they get a little scratch on them, and they're always talking about how many miles they get to a gallon, and if they get a brand-new car already they start thinking about trading it in for one that's even newer. I don't even like cars. I mean they don't even interest me. I'd rather have a goddamn horse. A horse is at least oldhuman, for God's sake. A horse you can at least--"
"I don't know what you're even talking about," old Sally said.
p. 139 - The part that got me was, there was a lady sitting next to me that cried all through the goddamn picture. The phonier it got, the more she cried. You'd have thought she did it because she was kindhearted as hell but I was sitting right next to her, and she wasn't. She had this little kid with her that was bored as hell and had to go to the bathroom, but she wouldn't take him. She kept telling him to sit still and behave himself. She was about as kindhearted as a goddamn wolf. You take somebody that cries their goddamn eyes out over phony stuff in the movies, and nine times out of ten they're mean bastards at heart. I'm not kidding.
p. 141 - (not sure whether I dog-eared this page because of the reference to The Great Gatsby or because of Holden saying he's glad the atomic bomb was invented)
p. 148-149 - (i think i just liked this whole conversation between Holden and Luce. it always seemed that whoever he actually did reach out to, didn't give a shit) "I can never get really sexy--I mean really sexy--with a girl I don't like a lot. I mean I have to like her a lot. If I don't, I sort of lose my goddamn desire for her and all. Boy, it really screws up my sex life something awful. My sex life stinks."
p. 158 - (?? maybe Holden sneaking around drunk made me laugh?)
p. 172-173 - (i love how he speaks of his little sister Phoebe. i think siblings, little sisters in particular, are the best at listening because family always knows who you really are)"...People never think anything is anything really. I'm getting goddam [sic] sick of it."
If somebody at least listens, it's not too bad.
p. 183 - (i think this dog-ear had to do with Holden saying how much more interesting it was when someone digressed as opposed to always sticking to the point)
p. 185 - "...I like it when somebody gets excited about something. It's nice...I mean, he'd keep telling you to unify and simplify all the time. Some things you just can't do that to. I mean you can't hardly ever simplify and unify something just because somebody wants you to..."
p. 188-189 - (again, no idea what i was thinking of at the time)
p. 196 - The thing is, if you get very depressed about something, it's hard as hell to swallow.
p. 197-199 - (i liked this part because Holden's having a great time with Phoebe and then has an anxiety attack when he realizes there's no stopping the evil in the world)
p. 201 - (i think i loved that Holden gets seriously pissed at whoever wrote fuck you on the wall of his sister's school. i think i loved that he gets so passionate about how kids might see it and then get twisted ideas of what it means. it was touching.)
p. 204 - I was the only one left in the tomb then. I sort of liked it, in a way. It was so nice and peaceful. Then, all of a sudden, you'd never guess what I saw on the wall. Another "Fuck you." It was written with a red crayon or something, right under the glass part of the wall, under the stones. That's the whole trouble. You can't ever find a place that's nice and peaceful, because there isn't any. You may think there is, but once you get there, when you're not looking, somebody'll sneak up and write "Fuck you" right under your nose.
p. 207 & p. 211 - (not sure why I dog-eared these pages...maybe the touching brother-sister conversation?)
p. 213 - I mean how do you know what you're going to do till you do it? The answer is, you don't. I think I am, but how do I know?
p. 214 - (last lines) Don't ever tell anybody anything. If you do, you start missing everybody.

I read that book four times. four times. and each time i was looking for something, anything. once for something that related to my troubled and over thinking teen years (just like Holden my hero)...maybe once in the search for a god...around the time i took a foray into the born again christian world...the search for bits of genius in '90s punk music, where every Pennywise lyric was written for me and my friends.
the search for inspiration in J.D. Salinger. being able to find meaning in his simplicity.
Holden Caulfield. i felt his pain. his indifference. his constant questioning.
the 4th and final time i read that book i knew our love affair was finally over.

can't talk...unpacking.

...

~
Music to my ears: Modest Mouse

a long day post-concert

saul williams is my hero.
one of the best shows i've seen in a long time.
so glad i didn't miss it, despite having an 8am exam today, followed by a seminar in the west end of the city, back to tutor in the east end, then up north to a dentist appt...i have bike bum and i'm tired as hell...
but at least i got to see saul williams in full concept mode glory.

~
Music to my ears: CX Kidtronik - Krak Attack

music and the mood of a society

this conversation has come up again. first with jon. then with john.
does the music of this decade reflect society's mood or does the mood of the society affect the kind of music being made?
this thought came to mind as i've been working more with addictions and mental health and have noticed the recent (last few years) trend back to cocaine...(and especially crack! maybe because people are poorer? that's a different rant altogether...)
cocaine is a stimulant and usually people self-medicate accordingly...if a whole society has been depressed as of late, why not increase your dopamine response? makes logical sense.
of course, i've also been reading recent literature stating that alcohol is the new weed.
which would make sense with the cocaine spike because alcohol is a depressant.
so whether society is just depressed as a result of the state of the world or whether depression is a result of the increase in alcohol use, music is being affected.
in the last decade the music has been full of depressing emo-type tunes.
or crappy disco pop music (all the "the" bands...c'mon, let's be real. it IS disco). this is the '80s revisited. shitty disco with blow. it all makes sense.
what happened to the acid? the weed? the psychadelics that spawned a generation of guitar riffs and experimental instrumental bands. (don't get me wrong, there are still plenty of awesome instrumental bands out there! but rock, punk, anything remotely revolutionary just isn't in the mainstream. and where is all the good, politically-driven, intelligent rap/hip hop?).
john says the recent meth bust with the hell's angels in BC (he's from victoria) had an impact with the decline of meth and meth-related drugs (ie: K), therefore increasing the use of cocaine. that it's all about drugs and the economy. and this in turn affects the music. we are a culture run by drugs and money. money and drugs.
jon says it's like the chicken or the egg debate. maybe the music is influencing the mood? after all, the music that is popular right now has been emerging for the last decade or so. maybe all this shitty music has made society depressed?
i'm hoping that there's a musical revolution coming soon.
(maybe spawned by the impending collapse of the economy? once again, another rant, another time.)
the societal revolution this time is environmental. finally.
it took this long for "green" to be the new in thing.
it's about time the mainstream took hold of the environment as an issue to capitalize on.
maybe this will bring about a change in music. and mood. or mood. and music.

~
Food for thought: What is the What - Dave Eggers
In reality: have gender roles become so ingrained in us that they've become part of the evolutionary process? does this mean as they're trying to be broken down, it'll take another 100 years before new gender roles are ingrained into the evolutionary process?

will the true disassociator please stand up?

i've decided to diagnose my best friend with narcissistic personality disorder.
she's always told me that she's got such a high self-esteem, such a heightened self-confidence.
so much so that i used to be jealous of that ability to regard oneself so highly.
often wished it upon myself.
but then we moved in together and certain behaviours got me thinking.
and lately she just won't talk to me, and i was blaming myself, thinking i had done something wrong (clearly i'm at the other end of the narcissistic pole).
but then i realized the differences between self-esteem and egotism.
the difference is that with NPD you're prone to aggressive outbursts, especially when things don't go your way.
the difference is the complete and utter lack of empathy.
the difference is the arrogance, which although was visible pre-living together, i was not able to see just how much admiration was necessary...or required.
i love her to death, but maybe i can stop blaming myself for something that i have no idea if i've done.

~
Music to my ears: Atmosphere - Overcast!

a conversation in cantonese

yesterday at the hospital, the wife of my client and myself had a long conversation in cantonese.
i don't speak cantonese.
~
Music to my ears: Fugazi - End Hits
Words to live by: "I learn what I believe as I hear myself speak" - Bill Murray

#20 burns in my mouth and my fingers smell like garlic

i missed out on homemade blueberry pie yesterday. damn detox.
i'm surprised at my willpower.
while everyone ate moroccan chicken and spiral honey ham, i ate salad and asparagus.
that's fine since i don't eat chicken or ham anyway.
a bottle of white wine was cracked and i smiled because i prefer red.
while everyone ate freshly baked cinnamon buns, my mouth watered and i looked away.
the blueberry pie, with its flaky crust, oh man, that flaky crust looked good...jon offered to eat some and then breathe on me. i laughed and declined.
but the coffee. oh the coffee. sitting in a house full of true coffee drinkers, a tear came to my eye.
but at least i fit into my jeans.
seems the self-restraint comes easier when there's a valid reason.
i should pretend i'm in detox all the time.

~
Music to my ears: Pointer Sisters - Jump (for my love) (don't laugh. i'm in a shared office and a crappy radio station is on)
Food for thought: still reading Milan Kundera, who is slowly becoming my new favourite author. right up there with Paul Auster.

detox day 2

i'm not hungry.
this is quite the miracle since all i have been eating for 2 days is fish, nuts, oils, brown rice (and related brown rice paper-like tasting stuff), fruits and vegetables...and these homeopathic UNDA drops taken sublingually that temporarily numb my mouth, like that first bite into a clorets eliminator gum.
so...not unlike my usual diet i guess, except for the eggs and yogurt and soy and wheat....and gum. (holy hell i have just realized the extent of my gum addiction).
and alcohol....and the coffee. oh the coffee.
oh man what i wouldn't give for one cup of java right now. even just a little, wee espresso. just to get that wonderful coffee bean taste on my tongue.
even a Timmy's coffee would do--it is roll up the rim time.
i'd give up the sauce for the rest of my life, even my precious vino, to be left with my caffeine fix.
this tea just isn't cuttin it.

~
Food for thought: Identity by Milan Kundera

In reality: When I'm walking down the street with headphones on, listening to my ipod which is sitting in my pocket and my cell phone starts ringing, this buzzing creeps me out.

a hicks-ian easter

I was over in Australia during easter, which was interesting. Interesting to note they celebrate Easter the same way we do; commemorating the death and resurrection of Jesus by telling our children a giant bunny rabbit, left chocolate eggs in the night.

Now, I wonder why we’re fucked up as a race, anybody? Anybody got any clues out there?

Where do you get this shit from you know? Why those two things you know? Why not ‘Goldfish left Lincoln Logs in your sock drawer’ you know? As long as we’re making shit up, go hog wild you know. At least a goldfish with a Lincoln Log on it's back goin' across your floor to your sock drawer has a miraculous connotation to it.

'Mummy, I woke today and there was a Lincoln Log in me sock drawer!'.

'That's the story of Jesus'.

Who comes up with this shit?! I’ve read the Bible. I can’t find the words ‘bunny’ or ‘chocolate’ anywhere in that fucking book.
==

I love the Pope, I love seeing him in his Pope-Mobile, his three feet of bullet proof plexi-glass. That's faith in action folks! You know he's got God on his side
==

A lot of Christians wear crosses around their necks. Do you think when Jesus comes back he ever wants to look at a fucking cross? It's kinda like going up to Jackie Onassis with a rifle pendant on.
==

(Bill Hicks is my hero)

a few random thoughts...

today, a man told me i was beautiful.
and then he proposed to me.
he has a traumatic brain injury, but still.
it was quite nice.
===
if i had to pick one thing i liked about children, it would be their complete naivete.
so oblivious, they'll talk to anybody.
she laughed and smiled and tried to understand the drunk man on the street car.
probably had no idea he was a man without a home.
didn't notice his smell.
probably didn't even care, even though her mother was chiding her. it was a different language than mine, but i knew what that mother was saying.
and she didn't even flinch. just kept on smiling. and listening.
and maybe making his day.
i think sometimes, we adults, should try to remember what that was like.
and incorporate a little child into our everyday interactions.
how would that fit into societal norms?
would we be deemed crazy? unfit? unwell?
mentally ill?

~
Music to my ears: Mark Lanegan's Whiskey for the Holy Ghost
Food for thought: Identity by Milan Kundera

the psychology of addiction: methadone vs suboxone

turns out, methadone isn't the greatest substitute for heroin as we once thought.
although it doesn't produce the euphoric effects of heroin, it produces the same physiological effects, hence the addictive nature of it...
obviously, this doesn't help with dependence...substitute one addictive drug for another.
suboxone is the new methadone.
well, new to Canadians (Europe has been using it for quite some time now...big surprise there...not only do we have a slower drug approval, we have less of a market for drugs...it always comes down to marketing)
suboxone has limited abuse potential because it blocks the euphoric effects of heroin.
you can't git it to someone who is high because the withdrawal effects could be deadly, but it would be useful in managing addictions.
if someone were to relapse and take a hit of heroin, it wouldn't work. they wouldn't get high.

~
Words to live by: "I realized that, unlike brains, ability, or newfound wealth, beauty is the one thing that transcends class. It felt like a profound revelation at the time, but in retrospect I had known it all along, atleast since I was old enough to read. After all, the Prince married Cinderella. He wasn't scouring the local villages for the wittiest gal, or the one who could play the meanest lute solo, or even the one of most noble birth. Snow White was well-born, yes, but I somehow doubt she would have fared so well with Prince Charming if she had been aptly named Porridge Gray or Eczema Red. And I suspect that somewhere out there in fairy-tale land, Sleeping Smarty-Pants is somnolently and vainly waiting for the tender kiss of a king's son." ~Elyse Friedman, author, Waking Beauty

today in psychology...

single, divorced or co-habitating women are more likely to use and abuse alcohol and/or drugs than married woman.
why? perhaps those women not fitting into societal norms of what women are supposed to be doing are highly stigmatized...which then leads to an increased likelihood of drinking or using drugs.
==
research has shown that women prefer counselors with better interpersonal skills and who are more empathic vs men who prefer a more problem-solving oriented style.
they say it's mostly because one of the major triggers for use is relationships or loss therefore one would assume there is a need for an increase in social support.
but just for women?

i would venture a guess to say that this research may already be outdated.
i think societal roles for men have changed somewhat and are not as strict with the machismo/bravado factor (of course, this still varies with cultures)...i think there is more of a balance in womens' and mens' needs with regards to empathy and support for loss

~
Music to my ears: Gutter Twins - Saturnalia

a new vision and orange tic tacs

i've decided that i love PMH.
although i love community health and mental health nursing, i've been leaning towards doing my first couple of years at the bedside (with some volunteer street health nursing clinics, of course)
but yeah...i've been thinking about neurosciences...and oncology did cross my mind.
i think it's been confirmed.
the nurses on 14A gave me a renewed faith in hospital based nurses.
i'm in.
~
Words to live by: "In the depths of winter I finally learned that within me there lay an invincible summer.” -Albert Camus

insufferably narcissistic

slow.news.day @ the kathedral

~
Current food for thought: Waking Beauty by Elyse Friedman
(a few years back...maybe like 7 years...i stumbled across a book by elyse friedman called Then Again and thought it was one of the smartest and funniest books i'd read in a long while...and i love finding great local authors...so i waited and waited for more, searching for her books, and nothing. then jon comes home the other night with this book--i'd obviously missed its release--and it's so absurdly funny in a social ideology darkness kinda way).

dark chocolate covered goju berries

at what point does avoidance cease to be a positive coping strategy?
with ptsd, one of the biggest symptoms is avoidance...for some, dissociating.
at the same time, it's also a coping strategy...if something is "triggering", avoid it. step away from the situation and move to a safe place, a place that will keep you grounded...keep you from having a flashback.
but when is avoidance no longer conducive to moving forward into recovery? at what point is avoidance used to not get any work done towards managing the illness?
because learning to manage and control a mental illness is hard work.
just a thought.

~
Music to my ears: Chris Clark
Words to live by: I used to think the human brain was the most fascinating part of the body and then I realized, "What is telling me that?" -Emo Phillips

dreams of candy and springtime

confetti
sulmona, l'aquila (AQ), italy

~
Music to my ears: Clint Mansell - soundtrack to The Fountain

enough snow for 321 snowmen

a random sampling of photos from my back door.

~
In reality: yes, yes, let's all listen to the UN and stop our harm reduction programs because of an INCB convention from 1988. nice work.
(the good thing about Smitherman is he recognizes that our city is grossly underserviced for care and treatment in mental health and addictions)

my vicarious return to the motherland

clearly vicarious is my word for this week.
plus i'm hungry for anchovy pizza.
these delicious pies were from a wonderful little restaurant in trastevere (rome)

~
Music to my ears: Beauty Pill
Words to live by: the leash is loose enough to feel like autonomy ~ Beauty Pill

In reality: it won't stop!
(pics to come tomorrow, after my foray out into the great canadian snowstorm this evening)

only the promise to try

i wish i had seen this sooner. that's what happens when you don't post regularly.
so from here on in, i vow to try to post daily (i'm not making any promises or anything).
but i hope whomever it was that was actually reading wasn't scared off by my lack of posts during this past year.
it's a whole different motivation when suddenly the thought of somebody else looking at this is in my head. it won't change what i have to say or how i say it, but it definitely makes me want to keep refreshing the site.

~
Music to my ears: slow.news.day

In reality: hell in a handbasket

vicarious trauma

this girl is one year younger than me and yet she seems 10.
yet sitting and listening to her, i shudder.
we share the same issues. the same financial stressors, the same relationship with food (bingeing and sneaking sweets or extra helpings...from who? don't know).
but i am on this side of the bed. in the chair. as if i'm the expert.
this is not to say i am more mature, or older in personality.
but, unlike her, i have no attachment issues.
there are stages in life which, at times, i struggled with. between these stages are periods of turmoil. (i am starting to see more and more why this theory appealed to me).
and i see how splitting from the parental units (for those of us blessed to have some) and becoming independent means having to create a sense of self. your own identity. it's confusing. i still struggle with the identity bit (i don't want to, but i do. maybe it's different when i'm aware of it?)
but breaking free can be stressful. especially when you're expected to live up to a social norm. or the norms are so embedded in your head that you truly believe there is no other way. when you don't fit into the mold, the ideology, you feel like a failure.

i've been there. i am there. still. sometimes.
what separates me from her? or her. or her...or her.
the fact that i don't think ending my life will solve it all. make it all go away.
i do cry sometimes when things don't work out, but i'm trying harder to laugh instead.
and although jon questioned me, and perhaps got frightened that i'm just going through every day coping with these stressors, i'm not. some days are worse than others.

and the fact that i know it. i know that i'm being pulled by society's strings. and i try hard to overcome that. and i have the most wonderful sounding board....who also likes to share after work pints of guinness and shots of jameson's.

~
Music to my ears: panda bear
Current food for thought: What is the What by Dave Eggers

In reality: No food for you
yeah, that's it...let's deal with our obesity problems by instead giving individuals mental health and affective disorders (ie: depression), because really, who cares about peoples' insides if they look good on the outside?

conversations with jon #543

conversations over a pint of guinness and a shot of jameson's...

me: "i see myself in them. it's scary. we're all like that a bit. we've all dealt with these issues. i think it just comes down to coping mechanisms. some of us find ways to cope and others don't"

j: "i hope you mean sometimes. that only sometimes you feel like you have to cope"

me: "i don't know. i mean we're dealt shit every day and some of us let it roll off like water off a duck's back, some of us stress out more but have coping strategies in place, and some people can't handle it and have a breakdown."

j: "if you're telling me that every day is just comprised of ways that you're coping with feeling shitty, then what am i doing here?"

a month too late

i'm always thinking about what the media is feeding our kids today and if we're breeding a stupid generation. the torontoist makes a good point.
we don't give the kids enough credit.
how could i ever believe that youth are as stupid as the media thinks they are?
it suddenly made me feel like a bitter old hag.

one nation under god?

while watching jesus camp, jon says: "do you think george bush actually believes in god?"
we agreed on no.
but he is building quite the army of christian fundamentalists, isn't he?
none of whom are ranked in the upper class (indoctrinate the poor).
all of whom think that george w is one great christian.
all part of the master plan to merge church and state.
build the army, starting with young soldiers.
and we're back on the discussion of good intentions and the ideology behind missionary work.
these people think they're preaching the word of the lord, the right word.
it is their mission to help people believe in what is right.
they want nothing less for our children.
it is true: the path to hell is indeed paved with good intentions.

~
the gospel according to narnia

conversations in a hospital #1

(first character to be read in the voice of Bruce the performance artist from Family Guy)

- so you can see what's going on with me (in the hospital~m.), tell me what's going on with you
- i listened to the opera today
- oh how nice. which one?
- la boheme. when pavarotti was in his prime.
~~
- and television, well, there was never really anything on it anyways.
- only for the news...and i watched the canadian skating championships today
- oh that'd be nice
- it's getting quite exciting because of the upcoming olympics. Jeff Buttle lost it to a newcomer Chan. he's only 17
- heavens!
- it was nice but Chan didn't impress me much
- ohhh. did it lack lustre?
- it was a stunning performance. very clean. it just lacked stillness.
- my lord. what happened to Buttle?
- i was more impressed by his performance actually, but he made very two important technical errors.
- oh darn.

managing online identities

this is why i hate sites like facebook. as if we're not fucked up enough trying to manage our real selves.

maybe it's just the interweb i hate. it's like a choose your own adventure book.
i hated those books when i was a kid.
i always felt like i'd miss a piece of the story, so i used to keep my fingers placed at every possible choice so i could always go back and make sure i never missed an option. then i would read the book from cover to cover in a linear fashion and put the story pieces together in my head.
it used to drive me nuts!
i feel like that's the way most websites are. thank goodness firefox has tabs. usually after a foray into the world wide web i have like 20 freakin tabs open for all the possible links elsewhere.
it's gotten kind of crazy.
here's wishing for a simpler online life.

~
Music to my ears: futuristic '70s synth soundtrack while watching Logan's Run

crazy going slowly am i, 123456, switch

sometimes i feel like i have so much in my head that i can't organize my thoughts. it's no wonder i have a problem articulating them.
this year is like peeling off an old layer of skin, but in one gigantic piece, like a really good sunburn.
i feel like i've been completely fucked up for the last little while. i thought, and sometimes still think, that i've been going crazy. but what really is crazy?
a lot of time crazy is mistaken for retarded. it's a common mistake. i think.
i'm a little disjointed. like arms and legs moving at different times, but mostly my brain synapses being delayed at the source or something. i'm not even making sense.
being coherent has never been one of my strong points. as long as i know what i'm thinking in my head. which scares me at the same time.

ps - there will be blood is a wicked ass movie. daniel-day lewis has always been a favourite of mine and now i'm thinking he's a veritable god among men. that and p.t. anderson is somewhat of a genius...capitalism and salvation...it's always about salvation.

was i sleeping all this time?

i quit smoking in may.
i've had a fuzzy head and mixed emotions for months.
i suddenly feel like i've woken up.
at first i felt better about that.
my head seems to have cleared, like i pulled it out of a stormy rain cloud.
but now i feel as if i let all this stuff happen and nothing is the way it was.
i've somehow gotten fatter...not even my body is my own.
i don't even know how i managed to pull off school this past semester while still maintaining a GPA of 3.5
it's like driving for 20 mins only to realize you don't remember the past 5 km, never mind changing lanes...complete auto pilot.

funded by the national nuclear power organization

i always get weary about stories like this.
who has funded the writer's grant?
a story about how nuclear waste is not good, but atleast it's better than coal ash?
for real?

things my boyfriend says

"stop taking pictures of me!"
"stop being so gorgeous"

talk about ego booster.
he definitely has a way with words.

a chilly climate

so in 2005, the head honcho at harvard, lawrence summers, basically says that women are naturally not as smart as men.
and while i appreciate his idea to state something so simple as that intelligence is innate so you can't blame the victim, i don't appreciate the poor little girls as victims approach, as this totally absolves society of all of its failures.
and while i appreciate his gall and bravery for saying something that would surely put him under attack, i will attack not him, but rather the magazine that i am so fond of, for pretty much emphasizing summers' idea.
the whole article to address this issue spends the first 2/3 going over all the biological and innate reasoning, and the differences in boys and girls spatial/mathematical/cognitive skills...which reinforces the dominant ideology that men are just better at techy stuff than women.
not until the second last page does the article make reference to the idea of choice, and even still doesn't even suggest that perhaps a woman's choice not to choose fields of math/science is because of a chilly climate. yes, the glass ceiling, as mentioned, is a definite probability for choice, but it goes beyond pay and promotion. working in an environment where women are inadvertently made to feel inadequate and less worthy is frustrating.
and the sheer fact that even as young children we have begun to think that this is alright because of the differences in the way girls and boys are taught. school is an institution after all--an institution that reinforces men's and women's roles in society and conditions us for those roles.
and the idea of a woman's double day gets the honour of a measly little paragraph at the end.
if the article really set out to refute summers' statement and challenge the ideology of men excelling at science and math, surely it would have given equal discussion in all possible factors.
i love science and biology and physiology and the amazingness that is the brain, but if we're talking biological psychology, then other contributors need to be considered in they way we perceive things and the way society's dominant thinking has conditioned us to believe things.

~
music to my ears - slow news day

summer and sandalwood

today, as you sat across the table, eyes tearing, remembering that boys don't cry.
"hey, i'll give you something to cry about", you said, explaining your father's fine parenting skills.
all those years spent with a bottle, more recently a pipe.
overwhelmed and wondering if it will ever end.
kids who think you're the biggest loser--can't be good for the psyche.
and i remember summer and sandalwood.
a not so distant past where i didn't even know you existed.

~
music to my ears: Radiohead - Hail to the Thief

why i hate the ttc

so i make the decision to not ride my bike in the cold this morning.
i guess i shouldn't have jinxed it by adding "man, i hate the ttc"
i walk out the door and think "hmmm, it's really not as cold as the -15 they were claiming, i should totally go back upstairs and get my bike"
but at this point i'm already committed. so i continue to walk to the subway.
i put my ticket, worth $2.75, into the money thing.
i run down the stairs, and there is the train, packed, with the doors wide open.
"attention passengers, we are currently experiencing a delay on our bloor-danforth line due to an incident at track level at our jane station"
dammit. a jumper at jane and instead of diverting service somewhere and getting the show on the road, we're at a standstill with constant annoying updates while i'm left cursing myself for wussing out of riding my bike in between hot and cranky people sighing and huffing.
my alternative is to leave immediately and go back to get my bike, but at this point i've resigned myself to paying $2.75 for being late for class.
when we finally begin to move, the train is so full that the transfer at yonge has line ups to the train and i wait with thousands of impatient and shoving people for 3 trains to go by before i can get down to dundas.
fuck. i hate the ttc.

~
music to my ears: The Weakerthans - Virtute the cat explains her departure
(saddest song in the world - m.)

my reality is not facebook

i don't exist. it's true.
deleting my facebook account has distanced me from a social network that has taken over our cultural communication.
interesting blog entry.
the non-facebook akin to non-existing is very true, as i have been finding out.
i am excluded from all sorts of events because "sorry, i forgot you're not on facebook"
i barely even talk to my roommate anymore because facebook is her primary means of communication.
i miss human contact.

~
Music to my ears: Wintersleep - Welcome to the Night Sky

clementines and christmas

i couldn't resist the little orange mesh bags of unripe clementines.
tiny and sour.
reminds me of christmas and i don't have time to think about it yet.

happy birthday...we're moving

i grab my jacket this morning from the big closet...it's been hanging up for some time now...put it on in the dark, bundle up, and head out.

sitting on the street health bus i'm thinkin it smells an awful lot like piss, but hey, i'm on the street health bus, right? the stench of urine and homelessness sometimes go hand in hand.

but throughout the morning, i smell the pee. but hey, i'm at st mike's hospital, makes sense. i'm walking in moss park. huh. makes sense.

put my jacket back on this early afternoon to go out to an ocap action thing about the new cctv cameras at the corner of dundas/sherbourne, and there it is again. the whiff of piss. huh. well, i am at the corner of dundas and sherbourne.

but then, here i am standing in the daylight, and i look down to my whitish-light blue jacket and huh. that's an interesting yellow stain going all the way down the left side of my jacket. down my arm. could that be sweat from an old jog? let's take a whiff.

ah. cat piss. how lovely.

how incredibly angry i am right now since i just took my jacket off again and now my sweater smells from wearing the jacket all morning. down my left arm. not to mention the humiliation from my jacket being completely yellow.

happy birthday.

hope you didn't find piss in your shoes this morning.

you may find a dead cat or two when you get home.

but vs however

i think that if the word however can begin a sentence, so can the word but.
especially if you're making a much stronger point.
however sounds so complacent. to the point of wussy. very indecisive. "however, it may not be that way..."
but 'but'. now there's a word with meaning. "you say this, BUT i say this". very crude and to the point.
from here on in, i am using but to make my stance in papers.
my profs will be angry but i think it's a worthy cause.

i quit.

i quit my job. finally. that bastard of a boss can shove it.
for 3 years i've put up with his disrespect. treating the staff the way he has.
and he finally put me over the edge.
i feel liberated.
and yet irresponsible.
i walked in a half hour before my shift, picked up my cheque and quit. right there. right then.
how horrible, really.
oddly it felt necessary, but so unlike me.
even with all the shit i have put up with, i still wanted to leave properly.
but it had to be done. and it is.
just because i was getting paid a server's minimum wage--way below regular minimum wage--i don't deserve to be spoken to like that.
nobody does.

a march against poverty + a petty issue

at 30 yrs old, i participated in my first march.
well, participated in the sense of being available for first aid services if need be.
i have mixed feelings about it, mostly because i've always thought that mobilization doesn't have to come in the form of a protest. do protests really reach the right people? i've never thought so. especially organizations like OCAP, which sometimes end up in violence as they take over abandoned houses across the city.
as a matter of fact, this feeling was somewhat justified as i was talking to one of our homeless clients before the march and he said "i didn't really want to march for ocap--they always seem to fuck things up".
the police presence was heavy. horses with face shields hiding behind the hedges at queen's park.
but the march ended up being alright. no violence.
and although i did not participate in any chanting or raising of fists, i did watch the general public's reactions.
passerbys stopped to ask what it was about.
and then i wondered if the people that they're trying to reach, those "right" people, aren't part of the government or political organizations but rather the everyday person.
because ultimately it's people who are going to make a change...well, hopefully, in our somewhat democratic society.
but it is a democracy and people coming together can change things.
or atleast "democracy" gives us the hope that we can.
whatever.
either way, here i was in an anti-poverty march, and every tuesday and wednesday i see people who don't have clean clothes or clothes that fit, and here i am finding myself with a body image issue.
so i've gained 10, maybe 15 lbs...so what? why do i care so much?
i've done so many good things to have gained this weight.
i stopped being so vigilant about exercise and started enjoying activities more.
i quit smoking (!!!)
but my clothes don't fit. and it's very disheartening.
but what's even more disturbing is the fact that something this petty bothers me.
the fact that i know i'm being told that women are supposed to be thin, with no extra rolls on their tummies, and wear a size 0, and yet i'm still succumbing to this ideology.
and every day, walking around the city, i struggle with the fact that this should NOT bother me.
i mean, my life is pretty sweet. i have a strong support system. i have healthcare. i'm not starving. i have a roof over my head. i'm in university becoming a nurse.
and i'm white, so i have nothing pitted against me.
so what the hell?
why can't i shake this?

i'll never know what it means to use

yesterday i got the call i've been waiting for.
one of my best friends is alive.
and has been through rehab. and has been clean for 3 months.
the last time i saw her she had dropped into my apartment to use the couch, borrow money and cry that she needed help.
and there was nothing i could do except comfort her, let her smoke crack on my deck, try to feed her (although all she would eat was reese's p.b. cups and chocolate milk).
i bought her cigarettes, and tried to get her to sleep.
crack makes you an insomniac.
i didn't want her to leave after 3 days but she had to. she was out of drugs. and i was exhausted. and she promised to enter rehab. but i never heard from her. and knew that entering rehab was a lofty goal at this point in time.
i prayed for her safety. i hoped she was alive.
and now i know she made it through.
and i don't know how she did it. i don't know what it's like. i can only imagine.

school is for suckers

back at school with new people and no old friends.
autumn is my favourite time of year and yet i'm feeling miserable and tired and older.
i love the smell of crisp apples, riding my bike with a sweater on and the rustling of falling leaves.
and yet, i'm feeling dissident and blah.
my best friend, with whom i now live, hates me. and now my monday classes are full of people who know eachother but nobody who knows me.

close and no cigar

ok. didn't really stay on that straight and narrow pathway. but close.
plus i'm still not smoking ciggies. yay. so for that i'm awesome.
but couldn't lay off the sauce for 2 weeks.
2 more exams.

and i'm trying to decide what to do with this space.

it has been over a month

this last month has been quite the blur.
the end of school was (and is) looming...it was a time of complete craziness and stress and assignments and essays and turning 30 and drinking and quitting smoking. yay me.
and now, starting today, i'm back on the path of the straight and narrow. one more week of school then exams. today i woke up serious.
serious about studying. serious about eating. and serious about a mini-sabbatical.
no drinking until exams are over in 2 weeks. no junk food bingeing. and no more being late for school and my tutoring job. in which case, i'm out...

much needed purge

it's been a while since i've cried. but tonight my own mother made me cry.
but atleast i feel real again. emotions are overwhelming and sometimes need to be exorcised like a demon.
i believe douglas coupland once called it the "emotional ketchup burst" (generation X, 1991).
i guess i've been bottling it up for a while. and it felt good.
and so does this glass of pinot noir and some dark chocolate.

Words to live by: "Your 20s are muck and shit and pain and loneliness and horror." ~Douglas Coupland

turning 30

why is 30 such a milestone? i don't know why i don't want a big party, i just don't.
and it's not that i think i'm getting old...the number means nothing to me.
if anything it's a celebration that my 20s are finally over.
so why must everyone insist on having a party?
why is it any different than any other birthday?
and why do you think i'm going to regret not having one?

stoopid facebook

so here i am...addicted to facebook.
and i stayed far far away from myspace...successfully.
and now this.
i got suckered in and now i can't stop.
who are all these people? i can't even remember these people who want to be my friend.
this is so very strange.

hypersensitivity in the morning

after my morning jog i passed a lady who smelled like that cheap soap you get at the dollar store...like fa bodywash or something.
flaring my nostrils, i happened to cross paths with an old tanned man who smelled of florida...like panama jack tanning oil.
made me want to go on vacation.

blueberry pancakes and bad news

so it was dad & daughters day yesterday.
sis and i took pops to a toronto rock game (lacrosse is the best ever)
went for brunch before the game.
as i'm shovelling eggs and hashbrowns into my mouth (i was hungover and starving) pops decides to tell me that they found a mass on his kidney.
i looked up mid-forkful and the rest played out like a movie.
i laughed and said, "get outta here"
and looked across at my sister.
she dropped her eyes. there was no smile there.
"you're joking right?"
"no", pops says.
as the smile slid off my face. suddenly i couldn't swallow. my throat constricted, like last week when boiling hot soup got past my tongue somehow and my throat clamped shut to protect my esophagus from being burned, but instead gave me burns in the very back of my mouth.
it hurt. like this hurt.
i looked at my sister again, who looked at me. her eyes were empty. i couldn't read anything on her face, except that she didn't know how to feel either.
my dad kept eating. he was never one to show emotions.
very machismo. comes with the heritage i guess.
just like the cancer that runs in his family.

snow snow snow and more snow

we finally got some of the good ol' canadian white stuff this past v-day.
so we did what any good canadians would do...bundle up like stay-puft marshmallow men, grab some krazy karpets, and hit the closest hill.
let me tell you, when you're approaching 30 you're just not as light and nimble as you once were...so the karpets move slower, and in your attempt to push yourself even further down the hill, the walk up seems way longer than it used to.
we lasted a good 20 minutes or so before we were so frozen that a cold beer seemed like the best idea.

check out our deck...we opened the door and a whole bunch of snow fell into the house.
i think it's time for a bbq (if we can find it)

feng shui and monkeys

this is why the L.A. zoo is publicly funded, i guess.

oh wait. here's my favourite quote:

"we don’t have any books on feng shui for monkeys. we have to assume that Darwin is correct and that there is a connection and what is good for humans is good for monkeys"

brilliant.

the rise or fall of the ttc?

one by one the passengers let out sighs of anger, helplessness, distress--all bundled into one heavy breath....between pursed lips and open mouths.
and it's making me giggle ridiculously while the driver adds to the tension by consistently braking at the last minute before a stop--the sound of grating metal.
maybe the streetcars breakdown as ttc's secret revolt: get the loyal riders frustrated during rush hour in the hopes that the people will get through to the government.
the union's not working anymore--there's no funding for our public transport.
maybe the new grassroots revolution begins on the 504.

fat fingers with big rings

i don't know why it bothers me so much. but when i see a man with fat fingers wearing those big gold rings, i shiver.
it's not the fat fingers alone...but with those crazy rings.

health and human rights

i've always entertained the idea of going overseas either as a nursing student or when i become an RN.
and it's not so much the ideology of "saving the world" so much anymore, as it was when i was 16...i'd like to think i'm much smarter than that now
but i did still have a small hope that maybe i could help out in some way...put my skills to use, even if it just helped one person.
two weekends ago i attended UofT's Health and Human Rights Conference....some really great speakers--among them Dr. Gerald Caplan, senior advisor to Stephen Lewis...he was fascinating and entertaining
much of the talks related to war zones and/or africa's hiv/aids epidemic.
a couple of the speakers brought up the notion of humanitarian tourism, as opposed to humanitarian aid.
it really made me re-think my ideas.
to sum up, they pretty much said that humanitarian aid shouldn't be just a band-aid. it can only be that way for so long, until you have to start advocating for reform in the country's own health care system. as an HCP going overseas, you should be going with a plan...the plan being how to make it so that you're actually not needed there.
with about 25% of med school students taking electives overseas, some countries have become saturated with students who are there as band-aids...and many times not knowing what to expect once there...potentially not being of much help at all.
and the money spent on airfare by students could actually be of more help if donated to trained professionals on the ground.

i can definitely see the point there for countries in conflict. however in order to find somebody who is willing to commit themselves to helping make those changes, that person has to see and experience first hand what they will eventually commit to.
so if out of those 25% of students go, 24% are of no help, perhaps there will be that 1% that will be the ones to have a plan and make those changes.

aside from war-torn countries, i think i'd still like to go to a country that could use help with education and or clinical rotations. maybe somewhere in south america, or parts of africa that aren't necessarily in conflict, but need bodies to help with hiv/aids education and clinic set up.
and yes, i'd have to pay for it. and yes, i realize that the money i spend could go to potentially stock a whole clinic full of medical supplies. but i know this, and still wish to experience it myself. and i don't look at it as anything other than humanitarian tourism on my part.