Unreal

Communication is irreversible. I learned this in college. I did not learn anything about grammar. I was taught it, mind you. If you believe the word on the street... then I am a qualified editor. Crazy talk.

I'm miserably lonely. Tonight I sat in an empty room and tried to will it "unempty". I didn't think this separation would wear on me as much as it has. My nerves are raw and I don't feel like myself without the part that's missing. I feel unreal. I can't seem to find relief. And I hate talking about it. I can't explain...

You can check out any time you want, but ...

portrait of a 34-year-old

I had a lovely birthday, thank you very much. I have wonderful friends and I would do well to remember that. We sang, we drank and I opened some wonderfully thoughtful gifts. That was Saturday night - before my birthday. Sadly, on Sunday morning I woke to a vicious allergy attack. I had to triple down on Reactine and then spent the rest of the day very, very stoned. I somehow managed to soldier on and open more gifts - a fantastic, custom Elmer dress and a super cool strapless number from Preloved. It was the b'day that kept on giving. Why, I even had another present fed-exed to my door Monday morning. Spoiled.

Ron Sexsmith makes me cry when I listen to him in the dark. He looks like a cherub. I almost chatted him up when he performed in the CBC studios until I remembered that I had nothing to say other than "I like your white jacket". I suspect we both dodged a bullet.

I wonder if my skin is thick enough for this freelance stuff. Rejection sucks. I avoid it and I rarely dish it out. I'm the girl you see slow dancing to Hotel California with the biggest creep in the bar. I just can't be mean... to people's faces. I paid my dues.

I am reading Martin Amis' Success. Why do I always relate with the most pathetic and unsavoury characters? I suspect I have answered my own question.

Aaaannnny way...

Well, this morning I sent off another story. The editor responded with nary a word about a re-write. Fe-antastic. According to the invoice I sent I am looking to come into a cool $459 - eventually.

Tomorrow I turn 34. Snore. Well, it was awfully nice to come home to a birthday card peeking out of my mail slot. At least my parents love me... or they're afraid I' ll skip town without paying them the $400 I owe them.

Hmm...what else? Today I bought: 1 plum, 1 nectarine, a tube of liverwurst, a loaf of rye bread and a package of Hobnobs. Very geriatric... and delicious. I made a dollar dance, I tell you.

Oh, key-rist! My cat is manically scratching the shit out of everything in site to punish me for leaving her alone tonight and maybe for forgetting to get catfood. Well, it costs $10! If I have to eat tuna this week, so can she. I had better go get m' trusty waterbottle and spray the little bugger before she trashes the whole joint.

And remember, make time for flowers.

We’ve secretly replaced common sense with...

...sigh...

You know, intolerance is an ugly thing. It is particularly unbecoming when it rears it's angry little head among the well-read and self-righteous. And, hey - don't get me wrong... Poor people? Love 'em. In fact, I am related to people who used to drink powdered milk. And let's not forget that I lived in Strathcona.

Now, if you'll excuse me - me and my precious and retarded entourage are off to buy perfume and ipod accessories. Maybe we'll rough up some homeless people on the way.

salt pig

Before bed I ate...no, I inhaled half a jar of caper berries. This is how broke I am. I had to choose between mustard and caper berries and the choice seemed obvious at the time. Allow me to inform you that I made the wrong decision. Not only do I feel really, really ill - I am now suffering from insatiable thirst and the more I drink the more water I retain. Who knew brine could cause such problems in life? Well, you can now take my word for it. Even if I wanted to and had the means to, I couldn't have sex right now due to the embarrassing sloshing sound my body makes when I move. And by that I mean that I've tossed back nearly 4 litres of water. I don't know what else would make a sloshing sound in a woman's body, but just so you dont get the wrong idea...

Rent day approaches. At the moment, even with emptying out my overdraft I am $200 short and that's after I get my E.I cheque. The only thing that might save me is if I get paid for a story I wrote a while back. But I'm not optimistic. Rent day is the 15th and my 34th birthday is on the 16th. I will likely throw myself into traffic in the next couple of days so as not to have to deal with either of the upcoming events. I call it dodging two birds with one bullet. You see what I did there, right? Mixed dodged a bullet with killing birds...etc...and so on... Brilliant.

I need an IV, please. I don't think I can manage another sip. I am holding out for several reality shows to intervene and make my life liveable. Please, someone contact the following programs on my behalf:

• 10 Years Younger
• What Not to Wear
• Extreme Home Makeover
• Skin Deep

Maybe just give the Life Network and TLC my name and number. That would be grrrreat...thanks. Shallow? Like a paddling pool, mofos.

they do not want what they haven't got

The other day I had to go to the CBC to pick up my shoe. In my hasty retreat (read: just after I was laid off, so many months ago) I left behind a lovely highheeled shoe. Very Cinderella - minus the prince, the ball and the happy endig. It was strange being in the building again and even stranger to think that I wasn't allowed past the plexi-glass security gate. I used to have free reign of the joint. I worked long, odd hours. It wasn't unusual for me to pop by my desk apres drinks and in the wee hours of the morning.

After having to leave my purse with security guard just so that I could use the bathroom I felt a bit of the old bitterness creeping in. I can't help feeling that ZeD got the shaft a bit. So many talented people involved in one program, just cut loose. High tech folks, creative types, gay, multi-culti people younger than 57 - every box the CBC could hope to check off- all of them canned. Don't seem right. Don't seem right.

Selfishly, I miss the steady paycheques and the whole not letting my teeth rot out deal. Flouride treatments, doctor's appointments...man, those were good times.

Lowered expectations - a slow burn

About my date:
She should be: Athletic and toned or Slender - no, no ANNNND no.

Turn-ons: Body piercings, - nope
Boldness / Assertiveness, - not even a bit
Brainiacs, - not hardly
Candlelight, - sure, why not?
Dancing, - who knew?
Erotica, - given the opportunity
Flirting, - indeed
Long hair, - yes
Money, - ha ha ha
Power, - fun-ny
Public displays of affection, - given the opportunity
Sarcasm, - interesting, this one... Mustn't be negative...
Skinny dipping, - no comment
Thrills, - I don't even know.
Thunderstorms, - obviously
Tattoos - check

All in all and overall, I'd say I don't quite meet the criteria. Curious.

You know what? It's been a shitty couple of days and I can't even write about it here. This is the best I can do. I'll tell you this: I wish I'd stayed home and had a good night's sleep. I wish for three more wishes. Innuendos inc.

The importance of logging out

Log in, log out. Wax on, wax off. Such vigilance makes me nervous.

I ain't into making love, so come give me a hug

Happy Canada day. There's pressure to do something fun and patriotic today. I'm upset because I wore my red and white polka dot dress yesterday. I can't wear it 2 days in a row. It's not soiled or anything, but it's not a subtle frock. What can you do? In reality, I would rather just go back to bed and read a book.

I have no idea what to do. Long weekends used to be fun, now I feel sort of alienated by these celebratory three-day stretches. I used to mark them on the calendar and make plans. Things have changed. Nowadays, I don't have a big circle of friends. There are no bbq's to go to, no camping trips... all my family lives in a different city... I feel very sorry for me. I will have to make my own good time - something I kind of hate. Has a mild pathetic feeling about it. I guess I should paint my face red and white, find a huge crowd of noisy stinky people and wave a flag somewhere.

The things I do for my country.