answers

This is turning into a very long day; I feel like I’ve been awake for days. Here’s what I’ve come up with so far with regards to the “love” question:

Sexual Love * the progression from friend to lover, close and personal

Platonic Love *my personal favorite and the most real in my estimation – close and personal with no sex

Romantic Love *a little too idealistic for my taste

Friendship Love *close to platonic but not as intense or open but caring

Committed Love *continues regardless of the circumstances, comfortable and supportive

Infatuation / Puppy Love *irrational, based on first impressions

Passionate Love *expressive but not long lasting, intense but short lived

Now, it’s possible to have more than one kind of love for the same person just as it’s possible to move from one type of love to another. A good friend of mine once said, in response to my lamenting the loss of the infatuation stage of my relationship, “We wouldn’t be able to live that way all the time. Nothing would ever get done, we would never eat, the world would end because we wouldn't be able to think of anything else, ever” I know she's right, but I still am partial to the infatuation stage.

Next step is to figure out the why/when/how of love. Then I'll know everything.

So, I have this girl that I know only socially through sport but I really find her intriguing and want to write about her. The only problem is that I now run the risk, since people actually read this shite, that someone will read it and recognize her and tell her and that would be bad. Bad because I make assumptions about people that may or may not be true but like to use real shells to house the character that I make up. And of course, I always use some true information that I’ve garnered to come up with the ideas anyway. So, what to do? Part of the beauty of this person is what she does for a living and the things she does in her spare time – changing those details would ruin the whole character. As for the rest, well,I have my ideas about what she thinks about late at night and how she feels, etc. But, it would be really unfortunate if she knew that I thought those things about her. Well, I guess I’ve made my decision. I can’t write about people I know. That’s that.

music

Since everyone else is doing it...here are my picks for top music of 2005:

Coldplay
The Bravery
Franz Ferdinand
K-Os
Interpol
Matisyahu
Death Cab for Cutie
The Stills
Arcade Fire
Madonna
Green Day
Moby
Gorillaz
Beck
Gwen Stefani

I had one of those terrible wake-ups this morning…I thought I was late and jumped out of bed thinking I had only 10 minutes to get out the door then realised that my alarm hadn’t even gone off yet. So, I went back to sleep only to wake up an hour later with only 10 minutes to get out the door and some serious evil grumpiness.

re-cap

Christmas is over. I’m 31 and in less than a week it will be 2006. It seems a little like an un-year to me, 2006, doesn’t really have any preconceived connotations to it at all…it just is. 2007…now that sounds like a year. Christmas was fun (read: glad it’s over, I was so stressed about all the family shit that I almost had a stroke.) Also got to meet up with some old friends from high school at the X-mas eve party; still not sure if it was cool or just plain weird. Best part of the whole holiday was Boxing Day when I finally emerged from isolation and visited with two old friends – one after a very long silence. Both visits were wonderful and left me with lots to think about.

Love. I have some questions about love such as: Who do we love and why? Why/when do we start/stop loving someone? Why do we love people who don’t love us back? What are the different kinds of love? Why do we have to be reminded to love? Input welcomed.

Happy Holidays

imbibe

Being officially two days from my 31st birthday has sent me into a tailspin of nostalgia. I wish I was able to travel in and out of different times in my life – not just in memory but to actually be there again. Today I’m craving the 70’s. I want to live in a world of rotary phones, record players, brown t-shirts, school buses, intact social assistance, long hair and big glasses, smoking permitted everywhere and no Wal-Marts. I want to transport myself into those grainy, yellow-tone Kodak photographs of my parents and there post-hippie friends; with their devil-may-care attitudes and no worries about future or careers or equity or retirement because, “hey, the government will take of us”. I can’t help but feel old just because the 70’s were so different from the world today. How can I even compare?

Went to a Christmas party last night and after three glasses of red wine was feeling quite drunk. This would have been fine except that I had a hockey practice after the party at 10:30pm and had to be at work this morning for 6:30am. There really isn’t any middle ground with me when it comes to sleeping. It’s either 9 hours or 4 hours, unfortunately more often the later. So, I feel somewhat drugged to day. My throat feels funny and all the lights are brighter than comfortable. My coffee is going down like water and I’ve only been here for one hour…no, 56 minutes. Blast it. Oh, and for the record…hockey and red wine do NOT mix. Balance is a key issue with endurance and hand eye coordination coming in as close seconds. Dumb, dumb, dumb.

Spent the morning yesterday putting together some Christmas music CD’s to offset my mum’s horrible “jubilation” collection. Notable favorites include a duet with David Bowie and Bing Crosby, the Rudolf soundtrack by Burl Ives (his voice is like butta I tell you….like butta!) and the Frank Sinatra “White Christmas”. Why don’t people say things like, “by golly” or “gosh’ anymore? Instead we say “holy fuck” or “you’re shittin’ me”. It’s terrible. Not that I mind swearing. I think it definitely has it’s place in language, but not the way we’ve made it part of our everyday language.

TWO SLEEPS TILL CHRISTMAS!

cut

Ok. While this is by no means a tragedy in the global sense I feel that it has sufficiently ruined my life enough to warrant some sympathy and perhaps some days off work. Over the past year I have discovered a haircut that I really love. It's a cheap haircut and requires little maintenance other than washing and blow-drying. Yesterday, I went to get my hair cut at the same salon that has done the job for me the past three times; I keep playing back the conversation in my head:
"How long do you want the back layers?", she asked me while fingering my hair.
"A lot shorter than they are now but still longer than the front", I replied.
She frowned, "You know, a shorter style would suit your face better."
"Yah?" I had thought the same thing many times, but I liked the length of my hair right now. "Can you show me a picture?"
She picked up a style-book and showed me a picture of a very short bob. "Like this, it will give your hair more shape."
Thinking that I'm ready for bit of a change and letting my ego win the battle..."ok, I'll try it, but make it longer than in the picture. I want to keep my hair long."
"Sure.", she said.
Well, now my hair is only an inch in the back and has some crazy hat-head shape to it. She fucking butchered me and, to make matters worse the style does NOT suit my face. It makes me look creepy and terrible. It’s such a pity because I really did finally have a nice hairstyle (more of an un-style) that did suit my face and me. I’m thinking bad thoughts about that woman. I'm wishing female pattern baldness on her and all her daughters.

I also shrunk my favorite wool sweater. The tag says that it can be hand washed in cold water and laid flat to dry. I followed the instructions and ended up with a sweater that is super short in the torso and super long in the arms. I'm having a bad week.

choose

One of my favorite customers just offered me two tickets for the Canucks vs. Oilers game tonight. I have plans that I can't get out of. Fun plans too. Fack, I wish I could do both. Oh well, I've been looking forward to going snow tubing for a while and tonight is also the last pick-up game at KM for the season.

Went for a really good sushi dinner at Honjin last night. Then watched the "Fantastic 4" - which was crap. Seriously, do not waste your money on renting that film. Also rented, "The Island" which the adorable Blockbuster kid assured me was very much like THX1138. According to him, it's what THX 1138 might have been with a bigger budget. I think he was just happy running accross someone who knew what the hell he was talking about.

neighbours

Erin leaned over to grab her mug of tea off the coffee table. She was tired; the baby had been keeping her up every night for a week and didn't show any signs of being ready to accept a regular sleep schedule. With the cup still just out of reach she stretched an inch further and in doing so knocked the remote onto the floor. The baby woke with a start and started wailing. Again.

At 31 she was not the youngest mother on the block. In fact, part of her decision to have a child now was due to the pressure she felt from her peers. The sense of being left behind as everyone entered their 30's with babies. And then of course there was Jacob - he had wanted kids since they first married 3 years ago. The fact that she had managed to put him off this long was a miracle.

It wasn't that she didn't enjoy being a mother. She did love looking into her baby's face and seeing the wonder in what she had made. And she loved Jacob more than ever before; he was an amazing father already and watching him with the baby often brought tears to her eyes. But, there was this feeling that she would get, sometimes; usually, during the day, when she should have been at work and instead was at home nursing and watching daytime television. She felt afraid to go out. For one thing, it was so much effort to get the baby ready and she was never sure if he was warm enough or what to do if he started crying in public. But also, she never could figure out where to go. She saw the other women in her neighbourhood walking all over with their strollers and their dogs and meeting for coffee but she couldn't get her dog to behave around the stroller and walking was still painful because of the c-section. The days seemed long. Long and lonely. And of course, as a constant reminder of the life she gave up (and never really grasped) there was the girl who lived downstairs.

The girl, actually she was the same age as Erin, was constantly coming and going. It was obvious that she worked a lot but Erin would also see her leaving the house with sports gear and on her way out for runs and walks nearly every day. She always seemed to be doing something. She was married to a guy that Erin guessed was a little bit older and over the first summer that they had lived below Erin had noticed how they always seemed to be having fun together. She became obsessed with watching the girl’s comings and goings and wishing that she could get out of the house and be free.

It not that Erin hated her. Yes, she was jealous, but that wasn't the real problem either. The real problem was that Erin wondered if she had made the right choices in life. She began to rewind her life over the past 10 years and see how much time she had wasted and how little she had done for herself before becoming a mother. And now it was too late. Now she would never again be able to think about herself first. And, what was worse, neither would Jacob.

But, these thoughts really only occurred during the most quiet moments of the morning. When it was still dark and the whole city was still asleep and she felt hers was the only mind awake. During the day she could abate the thoughts by watching tv, or strapping the baby up into his stroller and walking into the shops, or by talking on the phone to her other friends who had babies. Besides, everyone else thought she had made the right decision in having a child now. That was important too.

Dominic traded one more snooze for breakfast. Of course, when he finally did get up at 5:19am he was angry. Angry at himself, angry at his ex-wife, angry at the neighbour who told him to quiet down the music last night, angry at everything. As he stood before the toilet bowl he could feel nothing but anger and frustration seething within him. Not that he identified the emotions. No, instead his head was filled with thoughts of, “You’re so stupid. No one is ever going to love you. Your daughters hate you. You’re such a loser” and so another part of his brain translated those thoughts into, “Everyone is against me. Why can’t I just get a break? Why is everyone trying to control my life?. And, in yet another part of his brain, the most conscious part, those thought s were being translated into, “That fuckin piehole upstairs thinks he tell me when to be quiet? I’ll fucking show him” And with that Dominic donned his heavy work boots and set about walking all over the apartment while listening to Sepultura at level 6 and banging the walls a few times.
“Lets’ see how you like this, fucker”, he thought.

40 minutes later, when he opened the front door to leave, the guy from upstairs was standing on the front stoop. Just waiting.
“That’s it buddy. You just totally fucked yourself.”, he told Dominic.
“Get out of my way ass pipe, some of us have to work for a living”, Dominic said.
“I had the Strata president here this morning, you’re going to be fined for the noise and it’s not going to be light. Get ready to say goodbye to $500 you asshole”
And with that the guy turned and disappeared up his own stairs. Dominic tried to think of a response but was muted. He couldn’t believe it. $500! There was no way he could pay that. Between, child support, bills and the mortgage he barely had anything left for himself at the end of each month – a garbageman only makes so much. As he trudged towards the beat-up camper he used as a vehicle he thought sullenly…”Where did I go wrong?” But, after stating up the engine, lighting a smoke and pressing play on the tape deck, he knew that it was the world against him and that no matter what he did he would always get pushed down.

Before going to work this morning, Louise watered the plants, had a nice light breakfast, walked the dog and packed a nice lunch for herself. She was dressed sensibly in a pair of black slacks and loafers and was wearing a new sweater set that her niece had given her for her birthday. As she walked towards the underground parking she waved at her neighbour from the far side and thought to herself, “Why is she always so damn happy?”.

Work was a bore again today. Being 50 and still working as an Admin Assistant was not exactly the way she had envisioned her career path progressing. At 25 she had been a super star – just graduated with a degree in Communications and working for a large advertising company in Toronto. As she thinks back to those days it’s hard to stay focused on work. She had a challenging position back then, she had respect and was marked for great things. She also had a boss who was intensely attractive and whom she was having an affair with almost from day one. They went on for 6 years with him telling her over and over that he would leave his wife and four children. Finally, when Louise turned 31 she knew what she had to do. Get pregnant or get out. Of course the moment she went off the pill he seemed to know. The break-up was bad. She called his house and spoke to the wife, she stalked him, she threatened to go to the partners and expose their relationship. In the end, her work deteriorated and she was canned. In all likelihood the partners probably knew all along; it’s just that she was the more expendable one. After that she seemed to be black listed. Without a reference from her last employer she was just a 31 year old with a bit of education and a dubious job history. When finally the bills got out of control she took a job as an administrative assistant at a seniors housing facility in Vancouver. A fresh start, maybe it would make a difference. But, that was 18 years ago. To think of it put a lump in her throat – she was 50 and childless. She had Peter in her life but he was barely a companion. Most of their evenings together were spent talking about him and then retiring for clumsy sex that was never satisfying.

Lying in bed at night she would sometimes imagine herself in an alternate life; a life with a purpose. But her thoughts would always bring her back to the reality of who and where she was. Waiting.

influence

It’s amazing how much of ourselves we owe to other people. I once made a list of all the people I had ever met and what they had given me in the way of knowledge or interests or personal qualities. Two things surprised me: one that the list was soooo long (and here I thought I was an independent thinker – then again I guess it’s sort of like the chicken and the egg and which came first.), and two, that most of the names on the list were male. Now, I’ve always been labeled a bit of a tomboy. In fact, I was looking through some old elementary school memorabilia last week and came across a grade two valentine from my buddy John Saxton. It read, “To Samantha, you’re a Tomboy”. That’s it. Made me laugh but also made me remember back to how the teachers and students used to harangue me every year about wearing blue jeans for picture day; they used to make a point of asking me in front of the whole class if I would wear my hair down and put on a dress instead. Catholics, sheesh.

Anyway, what was my point? Oh ya, I have a serious lack of female role models in my life. I need to meet more cool women.

Calling all cool women...

Here's what I did last week. For those of you who remember my mum's old bathroom you'll know how much work this took. Yes, I'm part of the HGTV generation.

quick fix

It's a strange thing to be disliked. There is a woman who comes into my work who dislikes me a lot. She even called me "bitch" once, which was a monumental occasion since it was the first time anyone had ever called me that to me face. Ever. But, back to being disliked – I don’t really mind it.

Oh man. Everything is just so good and great but at the same time so fucked up right now. I don’t know how to explain it. Life is good and I’m growing and learning so many different things and finding peace about so many questions and even coming to terms with mortality and it’s all happening just on it’s own. It’s like the smoking…one day I woke up and I wasn’t a smoker. That was six months ago and I've forgotten what it even feels like to smoke. It’s like I woke up one morning a different person. Like I'm a character in a book that is being re-written. But, I know that I'm the one who is doing the writing and I know that all the changes have been conscious decisions. It's just really weird not to be quite so neurotic and worried all the time.

Matisyahu - I'm really loving this guy's music right now. Also, (no judgements please) the new Madonna. Whatever, it's great to dance to and you gotta hand it to the old broad; she really does know what the kids are into. Have also been listening to a lot of old Bowie, and Supertramp. Looking for a theme? I don't think there is one. It's all just part of my insta-grat life - it makes me feel good.

As we approach the end of this year I have been thinking a lot about 2005. This has been a really great, fun, confusing, frustrating year. I need some time to process just how I feel about everything. In the meantime, x-mas is upon us and I'm holding a crazy reunion at L's place on x-mas eve. Anyone who wants to attend and see the faces of yester-year, please do (be warned that several have pro-created). Anytime after 7pm...there are no yellow curtains anymore so just look for the number 2307.

Cheers.

bags

Am so tired. Can barely think straight. Last night, went for dinner at friends (acquaintances) house. Couple has new baby. Other guest had two-year old son. Got left in the living room with the women while the men went down to the basement to talk landscaping (no, I'm not kidding). My conversation consisted of developmental stages of toddlers, sleeping patterns and general fawning over kids. An ok night except two things: One, everyone assumes that I am completely un-maternal just because I don't fall all over myself trying to be loved by every child in the universe. Well, I am extremely maternal. I love kids, and when I have my own I will pay plenty of attention to them. Two, why does every mother see fit to ask other women the question "so, when are you going to have one?" THINK BEFORE YOU SPEAK! There are a million reasons why a 30-something woman would not have any children (yet) - none of which are any of your business I might add. Furthermore, did you ever stop to think that maybe your question is hurtful? Gaaaaaa!

Ok, rant complete. In hockey news, we lost again last night. But it was 4-2 and our team is playing soooo much better. I got an assist last night (still haven't scored a goal). J got a penalty for high sticking (haha). The game didn’t start until 11pm and afterward I was so wound up that I didn’t sleep at all. All I can think about right now is how great it will feel to go to bed. Only two hours to go and I’m off for t he rest of the weekend.