What am I doing these days...
I'm working my ass off, going to bed at 1am and getting up early.
Went to Toronto this past week and facilitated a meeting at the National Film Board. I like being there, I feel comfortable in my role and I had an interesting day watching videos. Afterwards we all went to some French bistro and I had a wonderful duck confit. Then I went to the Porter Airport and slept in a variety of weird positions in the airport, incredibly exhausted as I waited for a delayed flight. At one point I woke up to see a businessman staring at me with a grin, and realized that my legs were placed in a questionable manner. I gave him a pointed look and fell right back asleep, hopefully in a more reserved position.
I'm not crying a lot, but still crying. Comes unexpectedly.
I'm talking to a psychologist now. I'm not sure what to make of it, or her, lately. She's kind and young, and when we first started out she was very clinical and used words and terms I'm unfamiliar with, like PTSD (Post Traumatic Stress Disorder). It's early days though, so we'll see how it goes.
I write really badly now. It's like my ability to describe things has vanished. I've written some poetry, but that's been shit too. It's ok though. I think someday I'll probably pick it up again. I still would like to write more, to write stories and poems, to publish. But right now my writing is probably closer to how I used to write in grade 9 (seriously).
I'm planning on taking a month or two off work in the spring time. I need to make some kind of arrangement with my boss. If they don't want to accept this then I might consider quitting. Anyway, I want to take some time off to travel and just do nothing. I worked throughout my twenties, never stopping to do the usual typical travels that kids do in their teens and early twenties. So I'm gonna see what I can do about that. I'm hoping to do this trip, but probably in a year or two: http://www.adventurecanada.com/rcgs. But in the meantime I will probably spend some time traveling around Canada to visit some friends, and then take off and travel abroad. I don't know where yet.
Caleb keeps sending me beautiful poetry, but I still haven't found it in my heart to write back. I think he's sent me about fifteen or twenty but I'm still silent. I still care but I'm hurt and I'm at a loss at how to get through to him. This is my favorite poem at the moment:
My sister, she'd know
where to go, where to go
I finally realise now
that the things that we put
in the earth
get the grass
and the grass then goes into a cow
My sister, she sees
oligolectic bees
which go only to one type of flower
And I'd go to you
if you wanted me to
I'd be there by the end of the hour.
I'm full of vague, faraway nagging feelings about things that never worked out or ended badly.
I fell upon my favorite photograph of Chris, smiling in the sunshine with glimmering grey hair and his usual cool sneakers. I miss him terribly. I know I hurt him in my last few messages. I don't regret it exactly, but I wish we could have coffee together, leave the bitterness aside.
Actually speaking of photographs, I love photographs now more than writing. I guess because I'm at a loss for words. But I need to get myself a better camera and equipment again. Then I will actually take good photos. I spend lots of time looking at other people's photographs. Can you send me some photographs? Even without words, without explanation, send me photographs.
I have four gift certificates at the Nordik spa. Anyone want to come with me? You'll go for free as my guest. You just need to supply a car!
My nail, which got caught in a door in early November and ended my guitar lessons, is still purple and split in the middle and gross. I've been putting dark mauve polish on my nails for a while now so that it's not so obvious. It's so not me! But I got sick of seeing the bruise, it pisses me off and reminds me of all the strife I've faced for some reason. It pisses me off that this happened months ago and it's still there, still healing, still following me everywhere I go, just like grief.
I still like my dark hair. I also like my big black Canadian Goose parka with the big fur hood, even if activists hate me. I still like my black oxford shoes that I bought months ago and wear almost every day. And I just got a dark leather couch to replace my ugly big 90s one, finally. Oh and thanks to Julie I also have a DVD player now, which I watch on my mother's little television that I inherited.
Who here believes in redemption? Forgiveness? Progress ? If you do please tell me more.
xoxoxoxoxoxox
