Immortal jellyfish

I’m of the last generation to ever remember a time when they wasn’t Internets, when me having

a pager made me the coolest girl in the neighborhood and when we had to beg our parents for our own phoneline.  (604-925-0196 RIP).  Now with the amazing immediacy that the Internet has provided for all of us, the ability to communicate with someone 18 ways until Sunday, we can’t help but take that for granted.

Remember those days, staying on the phone for hours in case you forgot anything, because after 10pm it was time to hang up, or calling another number to make sure that the call waiting beeped so your parents couldn’t here the call come in.  Running around looking for a pay phone, always having to have quarters so that you could check your pager voice mail.  Leaving complicated, long winded number codes: 911 (emergency [read: drama]), 143 (I love you), LYLAS (Love ya Like a Sister), BFF (Best Friends Forever).  When you would sign peoples annuals in high school and if you didn’t leave your phone number, then you would be lonely that summer.  Relying on the schools phone book to look peoples phone number up– wait memorizing phone numbers.

People don’t spend the time to get know people anymore, and they feel like they have to move at the same speed as their modems- if everyone would just slow down a bit and really look around to see and acknowledge the people that you have in your sphere, you might be surprised.  Shocked even.  People can state facts now and not have to consider what the consequences are, because we don’t have time to ask “Why” anymore.

I know that time is fleeting, the proof is that I remember my pager number after 12 years- but if you rush too much, you miss the best parts.  It’s wonderful to be in love.  Nothing like it.  But the falling is the best part.  Letting go, giving in, and hoping that you will land softly.  I don’t want to rush the falling- because once it’s gone, you can’t ever get it back.

When people talk about the great Romantics of the world they don’t quote a 140 word tweet.  The quote the masters.  Philosophers, poets, artists that were forced to write letters and wait for weeks or months to ever receive a response.  Maybe that was part of the reason that they were so good at saying what they felt.

Not to suggest that I would want things any other way.  I wouldn’t be ok with Netscape Navigator and ICQ as my methods of co

mmunication- I’d have a heart attack.  Aristotle was a smart fellow, he said: ” Wishing to be friends is quick work, but friendship is a slow-ripening fruit.”

I bet you didn’t know that I’m good at lapidary, I hate the moisten and I’m afraid of thunder storms.

The irony is that I’m going to post this via Twitter, Facebook.  Deal with it.

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The only and maybe only commonality that the people that I’ve dated have had is that they’ve made me laugh.  But even a guaranteed belly laugh everyday isn’t always enough to make up for the other less than desirable personality traits.

I didn’t think that I’d ever be writing about this.  I think that my main reason behind that was in an effort to avoid some (any) conflict.  I dated someone who’s pants were most certainly aflame.

Apparently the phrase that we’ve all been singing, “Liar liar pants on fire, hanging from a telephone wire,” it comes from a Robert Blake poem.  It gives the rhyme some weight right?  As if Shakespeare wrote “Blue bells cockleshells, easy, Isie, over” or Lord Tennyson penning, “I see London,  I see France..” Well you get the idea.

We all lie though right?  Little white whatevers.. When you are too lazy to actually tell the truth or face the shame behind that truth.  But when you start telling the big-huge-there-is-no-way that could happen lies is when people get suspicious.  In retrospect, I think that the people (plural) being suspicious should be enough and will most certainly be next time.

We all like to think that we’ve lead interesting lives.  Just like we all like to believe that our families are the most fucked up.  The truth is we have all lived interesting lives, but I guess not everyone knows that so they feel the need to embellish.  That’s what this ‘guy’ did- he embellished. Too say the least.  It got to the point that no one else’s story could ever compare, therefore after some time you give up trying.

There are some things that I know that I’m good at.  Researching and finding out the truth is one of them.  I took this last experience as a challenge.  A challenge that I’ve won.  I’ve realized that it isn’t as fun to win when you have to win in silence.  It’s why people don’t like to play board games with me because I’m admittedly obnoxious- that’s another story though. Sometimes the boring truth is better than the fictional story. No- it’s always better.

I’ve not said anything about the experience because I didn’t think there was much point, and I’m not sure that I think there is any point of this post either.  But I’ve written it and you know what they say..  The Internets are forever.

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As humans we’ve been forced to adapt to our surroundings and to what our circumstances are.  Because of my circumstances and because of what I have endured, I’ve adapted to live everyday with a pain level hovering around 8.  Not physical pain, not the kind of pain that you can pop an Advil to cure- but emotional and complex pain that I’ve been living with for the last 15 years.

My history isn’t clear cut.  But no ones is.  That isn’t much of a consolation though.  To be fair, some days are only a 6 but a red-letter day is considered a 7.

Right now I’m overwhelmed.  Because of the relationship or lack thereof of a relationship with my mom, I tend to rely heavily on my father.  I feel like I fought a war and the only other person that witness the tragedy with me, is him.  It’s a tough thing for me to talk about, which is why I don’t.  Because I don’t want to have anyone in my life to ever understand what I’ve been through.  It’s one thing for me to have pain, but I feel like if I let someone else in close enough to witness it then they will hurt for me.  I never want that.

I’m told a lot that I have strength.  I know how sincere it is, however it comes to a point when I start to almost resent the implication.  If someone is told that they are so strong all the time- then it becomes even harder to fall or show chinks in my armour.  I have more chinks than anyone knows.

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The cartography of my friendships was been eclectic to say the least.  This past birthday was even more proof of that fact.  Some come and some go- that has to be ok, because I’ve come and gone from other peoples lives.

My birthday- is New Years Eve.  Not the 31st of December, March 7th.  It’s the day and time of the year that I renew myself,usually indicated by the cherry blossoms blooming.  It’s important to me to celebrate.  Every year.  Some asked me if this was an important birthday- without even thinking, my answer was of course, I’m still here.

30 was a breeze to me.  I never experienced that time in my 20s when everything is easy, because, well – you’re in your 20s.  If I did have that time in my life I don’t think that it would sit well with me.

I’m no longer broken.

2009 was a testament to that.

There are a few things that I know for sure about myself.

1. I’m funny

2. I’m shameless

3. I’m a good friend

4. I’m constantly looking for answers

5. I’m capable of self- renewal and self-healing

6. If I put my mind to a goal, however arbitrary, it will happen.  I always believe that I’ll succeed somehow, and I’m rarely wrong.

2009 was an example of that.  2006,2007,2008 were dark.  If I were a theatre- the stage would be dark for those years.  I didn’t grow or really change, except to become more and more angry.  2009 was a year to let go, physically and ceremonially.  I lost someone important at the begining of last year, that very easily could have forced me of course- but once again my tenacity and unbeatable belief that I’ll succeed didn’t fail me.

31.  2010..  Bring it.  I’m ready.

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The smell of dust

And ages past- 

Reminds me so much 
of you…

You are but a 
dogeared page of history-

A weathered statue in the Mausoleum of my mind…

- 

Robert Sapienza




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I am 
I am haunted by my past, and the ghosts are present with me now.
I am an internal rhyme.
I am an inspiration, no one ever takes.
I am not a coy smile, or a giggle, I am laughter without abandon.
I am the wooden stick in your chocolate malt- in case you forget your spoon.
I am a melange of flavour like neapolitan ice cream.
I am charcoal, harsh but pure in substance
I am a constant that only sometimes gets noticed, like a full moon.
I am middle C.
I am soft blue, 
I am a classic rock song,
And sometimes I am jazz.
I am above all…




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If 
If I were…
If I were a man
I’d treat you like a queen,
If I were a soldier and you were the land 
I would honour my country with pride
If I were the moon
I’d hang low beside you
If I were a star
I’d make your wish come true
If I were an angel
I’d be by your side always
If I were your self-conscience
I’d be a dream not a nightmare
If I were the sun
I’d shine soly on you
If I could be a candy
I’d be your sweetheart
If I could be any age
I’d be your baby
If I were the wind
I’d carry your memories with me
If I were a pair of lips
I’d search the whole world until I found yours
If I were eyes I’d look for yours
If I could be, if you let me, I’d be the sunshine in your universe…
I’d be your everything just like you are mine…
-August 26th,1996




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Jack Johnson is Sade. I just re-read that title, it may seem weird but it makes sense to me. 

I didn’t like Sade at the begining, I also didn’t like Ani Difranco and Dave Matthews, and now they are 2 of my favorites.
What is the lesson in that? 

Maybe you aren’t supposed to like things that eventually you will come to love. Because that way, once you do love them, you will know for sure, for sure, how much easier it is too love than hate. 

Someone, ok it was Ryan, asked me how I could not question how I feel about him.

I didn’t understand what he was asking, he told me in his explanation that he questions everything about himself. I told him that I do too. I listed what about myself I questioned, so pretty much I listed EVERYTHING. But how I feel about someone? 

NO I don’t question that.
Ever.

Really.

Maybe I should.


But to me, it seems that how you feel is separate somehow from what you are. You can’t question what you feel? 
How can you do that?
If you were to cut your finger and where bleeding, would you sit on the couch and doubt the fact that your finger hurts?
If you were hit by a car, would you lie in the road, looking at the stars, both in the sky and in the concentric circle around your head, while all the bones in your body are broken, the front tire lying on your chest, and wonder whether it hurts or tickles? 
No.
Would you question a geometry equation that is complex, and while trying to figure it out, you question whether you are confused or not?
Would you question after winning the lottery that you were surprised? 
Would you question after your grandmother or dog dies that you are sad?
 Would you question that you miss your best friend?

No.
Nope.
No way.

So why do people question whether they love someone?
Does that mean that as long as you question it, it isn’t true?
God help me, if that’s the case.

It reminds me of that other curious thing that people do. People always listen and remember their bad reviews and not so much their good ones. Why is that? Is it because they are easier to believe? Easier to absorb. Because if you absorb the compliments too easily, then you are known as an egoist. But its completely natural to fully accept and expect the bad ones. 
Funny isn’t it?
 No
 Its kinda sad

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When someone asks what did you learn from that person, my mind always goes blank. I always try to stay away from the clichés. But sometimes its hard, to sound true and real and sincere. Because usually you aren’t telling your teacher of this new knowledge but a third party. 
I remember feeling after my break up with derrick that my heart would never heal. 
That I would never meet anyone, who would/coud provide that feeling of pride, strength, comfort, love, that feeling like you are walking just a few inches above ground. Nobody else knows that you are floating, but to you there is no denying it. 
I certainly never thought that I would find that with Ryan. Even once we started dating, I guess I thought that because we were different in some ways, that maybe I thought that it would just be to hard, trying to make those differences meet again, because obviously I had just come out of something where they never did meet in the middle. I thought that maybe it would be easier to find someone that had more in like with me. 
But you don’t really get to choose at the end do you? Of course you can choose whether you want to call that person back, or go on a date with that guy, but once you say yes, that is your decision. Because after that the I think that fate takes over. It either will happen or not. 
Whether you sabotage it or not—that’s a different story. 
But even in that you learn. 
We believe that everything has a lesson in it.
That’s how people get through things like death, love, forgiveness, understanding, betrayal.
Everything. 
It all has to teach you something.
I it doesn’t then what’s the point?
Why bother saying I love you, I forgive you, I am sorry, even goodbye. 
Trevor taught me, and continues to remind me that unconditional love is not limited to family.
Sometimes it doesn’t even include them.
He has told me with his friendship that its forever.
Always.
Until next time.
He chose(and so did I) to love that way
We could have been casual friends,
Good friends,
Best friends
B.F.F.
But he isn’t any of those things.
He is my brother.
Who knew that I would live my life at not until I was 14 years old
Would I find out that I had one all this time?
There is a lesson in that too.
Ryan has taught me about repair.
Mend
Fix
Mend a broken heart?
Fix the parts that didn’t work
Repair my faith.
Confidence
Ability.
I can stop looking for tornadoes
To fly me out of town.
Don’t have to see the wizard. 
My heart has been healed at home.
I guess that I have to believe that there is a lesson in that too. 
Maybe my heart had to get broken in order to be ready for the real thing.
Same thing for him. 
I never imagined myself with someone out of the ordinary.
Not rich not poor
Not tall not short.
Maybe that was part of my hesitation.
Derrick had an image of life that wasn’t everyday to me.
Not that I think I am ordinary.
Maybe realistic is the word I should use.
Its amazing how much stronger Ryan is getting.
Day by day, the mask of falsehood that he saw himself wearing, is slowly pealing away. 
Not layer by layer, but inch by inch.
Forehead 
Brow
Nose
Cheek
Mouth.
He lived for too long with that on.
It was literally choking him 
I saw that mask when we began
And like him it slowly disappeared.
But the difference is when I started noticing it coming off, it wasn’t inch by inch. 
Layer by layer
Like a cake.
Eventually it completely disappeared.
It lies in the memories, 
At my feet
Like the skin of a snake.
Something that was thought to be useful,
And yet as he grew into the man he wanted to be
He didn’t give that mask the strength it once had.
Evolution.
Change.
Serendipity.
Growth.
Trust.
Beauty.
Real
I don’t need to say it, but there is a lesson in that as well.




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