June 4, 2014

Intergalactic Planetary, Planetary Intergalactic

Yesterday, I executed my plan. I drove from my house, to Balm Beach and back. On the way there I got passed while doing the speed limit by an SUV and then later a motorcycle and then when I got to the beach, the guy on the motorcycle was there and I just thought…”you really had to get here 10 minutes before me?” That’s just dumb. Especially because weirdly, he left right as I was coming down the lane that leads to the parking area, which is where he was. There are also bathrooms there (that I’m sure are disgusting) so maybe he had to take a shit or something. Yeah I’ll go with that. He had diarrhea. In fact I think from now on, every time someone passes me I’m just going to assume that they’re rockin’ the ‘rhea. Other than those two things, which really aren’t even “things” at all because I don’t even give a shit, I was right so whatevah, the drive was pretty okay. I was super nervous the whole way there but not so much on the way home because it was around the time the school buses are out so I figured people would be going the speed limit anyway. I had a bit of a panicked moment at one point on the way home though. There’s this curve on county rd. 6 (the one that had the giant snow drifts I told you about this winter) just past the “murder house” (forget the story now but people were murdered there a few years ago, forget who did it, if I ever knew) that leads into a right-hand turning lane that merges onto county rd. 27 which takes you into my town. That curve snuck up on me so I was doing 80 km/h with this dude on my ass so I signaled as soon as I realized we were coming up to that turning lane and sloooooowed down probably too early but I don’t care because I knew that turning lane’s speed limit is 40 km/h. As I’m doing this I’m hoping the guy behind me knows what I’m doing and is turning left, while panicking about merging because I haven’t done it without Blake before. I aced it, of course and panicked for no reason so maybe I won’t panic next time at all.

As it turns out, parking IS only $2/hour at Balm Beach, however there is a $4 minimum. Ugh. Still $1.50 cheaper than Wasaga Beach, the one 10 minutes away from me, but how much am I paying for gas? I think ultimately it really doesn’t matter which beach I go to because between gas and parking it probably evens out. Blake’s looking into parking passes for both beaches though. Balm Beach issues 150 non-resident parking passes per season, so those could all be sold out for all we know.

Anyway, yesterday I got to the beach and scored the most cherriest of parking spots because no one else was really around. There was a couple on the actual beach with their little dog that would run into the waves and then run back out and yap at the water as if it were giving it shit. The beach is actually a horseshoe shape. I was on the tip of one side of it and there were some people hanging out on the other side of it, but other than that, there really wasn’t anyone around, so I got out of the car and walked over to the parking ticket thingy, placed my first ladybug and paid for parking.

I was worried about the ladybug because I guess I used too much glue because while I was paying for parking, it slid down a bit and I had to push it back up to where I wanted it and we were also under a severe thunderstorm warning and it was spitting, so I was hoping that it wouldn’t start storming and wash away my glue. Then I came back to the car and smoked a joint. For the record, while novel and cute, these papers are actually terrible to smoke.

…which lead to lunch (I ate a little less than half)…

I stayed in the car the whole time because at first I was afraid I’d get everything all set up on the beach and then the storm would happen (it never happened), there were seagulls EVERYWHERE and I just felt safer in the car. It didn’t matter though because I had water on two sides of me and the windows down and the sun came out and I just sat there and took my time eating my lunch because I paid for 2 hours worth of parking and had nowhere else to be. While I ate, I looked at Instagram, Twitter and Facebook on my phone while also watching the people around me.

There was a lady who had to be about 70 slowly walking a dog that also looked about 70, who didn’t appear to approve of my joint. Oh well. Then there was a guy in a truck who pulled up sorta behind me and to my left who seemed humoured by my joint (I’m pretty used to the smell so I forget that to other people it has a pretty distinct odor and he saw me trying to take the pic of the joint above, of which there are a million outtakes.) Then there was a couple who disappeared beyond the rocks in front of me and they stayed there for a good 20 minutes before heading back onto the beach and then I stopped keeping track of them. Having seen no signs that dogs aren’t allowed and seeing two dogs while I was there, I think it’s safe to assume Hoover or Lucky can come with me if I want them to. They’ve never really been in/near water outside of baths before so I’m not sure how they’d react.

After I finished my lunch (or rather, what I planned on eating of it), I checked on my ladybug and the glue was dry so I packed my shit up and split.

Today Blake is working from home and I only have $46.67 to my name from now until next Thursday so I don’t plan on going anywhere by myself. Today when he’s done working, we have to take my car to the gas station so I can fill the tank because I’m almost at the halfway mark and my grama always told me that you should never let it go below half and as long as I have ever owned a car, I never have. Blake has to come with me because the gas station in town is pretty crazy. Although theoretically I could go to the gas station up the road closer to Wasaga Beach. Anyway, he showed me how to pump gas but I have to see something and do something like, 3 times before it fully registers so for now he has to come with me. After we get gas I want to go back to Balm Beach because apparently there are 3 more beaches around there with parking that we’ve never seen that may have less people. This matters when you’re deciding between two beaches to get a parking pass for.

And that’s all I got! Peace oot!

June 3, 2014

Leave Only Loveliness

So a couple of weeks ago, I read this article about this lady in BC who had made almost 10,000 painted, clay ladybugs and her aim was for them to be a guerilla art project in that, if you sent her your address, she would send you 10 ladybugs and a small tube of glue and you were to stick them in public places. Mine came on Friday and you can find more info/sign up here. She said that as long as people were interested, she would keep making them. The project is called Leave Only Loveliness because a group of ladybugs is called a loveliness, like a group of crows is a murder.

Because the glue she sent was just white glue in a little plastic baggie with instructions to snip the corner of the bag and I don’t plan to stick all my lovelies at one time, Blake and I went to Michael’s on Sunday where I bought a 2 oz bottle of good glue for 97 cents with a 40% off coupon. Score! I already have two places I want to put ladybugs so my plan is to do that this week if it doesn’t rain. I hope it DOES rain all week, my garden could seriously use it, though.

Also yesterday, Blake bought me this fancy Thermos lunch bag and matching anti-stress air freshener for the car:

I told him I wanted a little cooler or lunch bag for the car because I thought that once my cell phone holder gets here from China and I have Waze, it could be interesting/good/maybe even fun to throw a few Diet Cokes in there, a sandwich and maybe a couple of cookies, take the car and get lost for a little while. If I have Waze, I’ll always know how to get home, so that shouldn’t be super scary. I haven’t used it before though so it’s totally possible that I get completely lost for real, but I’ve seen Blake use it 1000 times so I’m pretty sure I’ll be okay. I figure when I get my phone holder thingy, I’ll practice letting it tell me where to go when I go places I know how to get home from. Two things I’ve learned since venturing out of the house on my own are that A) I’m not as dumb as I sometimes think I am and B) people are generally nice to you when you’re giving them money.

After having the lunch bag for a few days and thinking about it, I think today I’m going to go to Balm Beach with is liiiiiiike North…I dunno if East or West because the road to get there is windy. I think West. Anyway, y’know how I constantly say I live “10 minutes away from the world’s longest freshwater beach”? Well, I do, which is awesome because it’s one of my favourite places to be, but the bummer is that I only ever want to stay for about an hour and you have to pay $5.50 for 2 hours of parking there which is pretty steep, especially when I’d be wasting half the time and it’s unclear as of yet if the provincial park annual day passes include parking or not (if they did, it’d only be $2.50 for ANY length of time if I went 3 times a week between now and the end of September, which isn’t unheard of, especially if I’ve prepaid for cheaper parking). WELL. Since I live on Georgian Bay there is also Balm Beach which is about 20-25 minutes away and we cased it yesterday after Blake was finished work; there is parking by the HOUR at only $2 and it’s just a more interesting beach. I suspect it’s also a busy-as-hell-once-school-is-out beach though, so I’m hoping the provincial park pass thing for Wasaga works out, but for now I think my driving goal for today is going to be Balm Beach and placing a ladybug. I’ve driven there once and to Penetanguishene a couple of times (you take the same road) with Blake, plus I’ve made him drive and show me the route to both those two places and Midland a few times now and honestly I’m a little overwhelmed so I think Balm Beach is good for now so keep an eye on Instagram and Twitter. :o)

I’m going to roll a joint for when I get there, pack up a lunch, pack up my lovely ladybugs and go! I really wish I had a dog seatbelt so I could bring Lucky with me safely because there are no signs at Balm Beach saying “no dogs” like there are at Wasaga and he would probably like to chill on the shore with me and eat a sandwich. Then I wouldn’t feel so alone. Anyway, sandwiches and joints don’t magically appear in the air (but that would be awesome!) so I’m gonna go get onto my project.

May 28, 2014

Life Ain’t a Track Meet, It’s a Marathon

Holy fuck, where do I even begin? I guess I’ll begin by saying that if you don’t follow me on Instagram or Twitter, you’re probably missing a lot and will continue to miss a lot because honestly I’m too busy doing stuff right now to e-mail myself the pics from my phone that I’ve posted on Instagram just to upload and repost them on my blog to tell a story. I may post like, highlights, but I’m not going to cross-post that stuff here unless Instagram gives me a button that allows me to do so, like it does for Facebook (but not my fan page and no offence, I don’t want randoms on my personal Facebook), Twitter and tumblr, to which I cross-post lots of stuff, but still not everything. Life is 3-dimensional and social media is a reflection of that I think. Anyway, I’m using it to document life as it happens and since I’m doing that in real time, I often don’t feel the need to have to write about it in order to process the experience, which is why I started blogging in the first place. I’m not saying I’m not going to blog anymore…I’m just saying if you want a more complete picture or you’re wondering what I’m doing in between blog posts, those are the places to check. No pressure, I’m just sayin’. Because a lot of you aren’t reading this on my site where those links are like, *right there —>*

That said, there are going to be some pics in this post.

My shrink doubled my cipralex (anti-depressant), which had me taking a whole pill and then I wasn’t feeling better so she had me up it by half a pill and I was supposed to call her on Monday but I’m having serious phone phobia and honestly I don’t even know how I feel so I don’t know what to tell her. I think I’m mostly good?

 I mean, I’m not suicidal anymore so obviously the meds are working but I still kinda feel flat when I think I’m supposed to feel happy or excited or proud of achievements or whatnot so I think I’m going to ask her to up it by another half pill so I’m taking 2 pills and leave me there for a while, maybe over the summer, to see how things shake out. She’s retiring in August so I kinda wanna get this shit worked out before then.

I’m over the new car. I kinda like air conditioning. The moon roof is handy for when you’re smoking a joint in the car. The stereo is better than in the old car, which I guess I’ll start referring to as either “my car” or the “Sunnymobile”, and it came with a subscription to XM radio which I actually really like and wish I had that in my car. And his stereo is super smart and if I plug my iPod into it, you can control the iPod on the car’s nerdscreen. So that’s sorta cool. And when I call him while he’s driving I can actually hear him so that’s a bonus. What else? I dunno, whatever, it’s a stereo you (well, he) can drive.

Madison turned 16 on the 16th and she had a party with some of her friends where lots of sushi and ice cream cake was consumed. In a rare act of bravery on the 15th, I called my favourite flower shop – on the phone- which is in Barrie, and asked them if it would be possible to have 16 roses sent to Madison’s school on her birthday the next day for under $60. The lady on the phone was super nice and worked it out so that she could do a mixture of short-stemmed roses for about $50 and delivering to a school was no problem. So she asked what school and when I told her she said, “oh dear, that’s out of our delivery area” and I felt SO defeated because it took so much courage to even make this call and they really are my favourite flower shop and I told her so and I asked her if she could refer me to a shop that could deliver to Madison’s school. So she starts google-fuing within her flower system and she’s like, “geez, you don’t really have a lot of options…” and she gave me the name of a shop in Wasaga Beach that MIGHT deliver to our town but she said she couldn’t speak to their quality etc. Then she said, “what if we did it today instead?” and I was like, “wha’?” and she said, “my driver just got back and my boss isn’t in today, let me ask him if he’ll do it”, so she put me on hold and when she came back, she was excited and said he’d do it and I got excited and damn near cried and when she told me the total, I asked her if she could please add an extra $5 for the driver because that was super nice of him/them and after 20 minutes on the phone, Madison was getting roses at school that afternoon. I was pretty proud of myself for doing that when literally I don’t think I’d used the phone to call anyone outside of my immediate family in a good year or more. I just don’t use the phone, it freaks me out. Anyway, Madison liked her flowers. Her ex sent her crappier flowers the next day at school from an inferior flower shop and Madison handed them out to people.

So Madison turned 16, then the Sunday and Monday after that Blake and I got to know the new car. Then on the Tuesday, the first day I was left alone with the keys to my own car, the craziest damn thing happened: Madison and I went to the mall. In Barrie. I have never driven to Barrie, half an hour-40 mins away before and have purposely avoided it because there is lots of traffic and you have to go over 80 km/h, which to everyone else means 90 or 100 and then the road splits into 2 lanes in a couple of places and it’s just generally a more difficult drive than say, the beach, which is two turns and 10 minutes away. The mission was pretty simple: get to the mall, smoke a joint, have mall teriyaki because it’s the best teriyaki, go to Spencer’s Gifts to find accessories for our (Madison & mine’s) new car, drive home before dark.

This is my pretty perfect mall joint.
(I cheat and use a rolling machine. :oP)

For the record, I don’t drive while medicated and I don’t think anyone else should either.

I know some people say they’re better drivers while stoned and I’ve witnessed this phenomenon myself, but everyone’s different and I would never in a million years get behind the wheel if I didn’t feel it was safe to do so.

Keep in mind that I am a terrified, by the book, go the speed limit kinda driver who does everything in her power to avoid any and all conflict so it’s just not in my nature to fuck around.
I have literally never even had a single drink and driven. Like…it’s just, no.

Anyway…

That is me, in the driver’s seat, parked perfectly between two yellow lines, in the parking lot of the Georgian Mall in Barrie (that tall sign is the mall sign).

We got there and I smoked my joint and we went in.
Oh yeah, I didn’t take ANY anxiety meds during this trip.

Mall teriyaki was gotten.
I ordered and paid all by myself.
Mine was beef, Madison got tofu.

After we ate, I did take 2 Ativan because the mall apparently freaks me out more than actually driving there, and then we went to look for Spencer’s Gifts. We found it and it was sadly devoid of anything I’d ever put on my vehicle. Madison pointed out a couple of weed-related car things but that’s just asking to get pulled over and harassed and Madison and I would rather avoid the hassle. I did put a Liquid Chrome sticker on the back window though, which is the smoke shop in Barrie. That’s a little more subtle than a giant rasta-coloured weed leaf or something. And we have the Flying Spaghetti Monster “Jesus fish” on the back of the car with Bubbles from the Powerpuff Girls hanging with one of John’s suncatchers from the rearview. Those are our car decorations so far. Madison has been told to keep an eye out for others. I don’t even know where you would buy a plastic/vinyl bumper sticker as opposed to a  regular sticker that’s just glossy and bumper sticker-shaped. Those are no good. I’m thinking the dollar store but I don’t think the dollar store is gonna have the kinda stuff I want to put on my car. I don’t even KNOW what kinda stuff I wanna put on my car! All I know, is that it’s really really boring, and it’s too new/I’m too poor/uninspired to sand it down and paint like my mom did with her old van. The thought had definitely crossed my mind but I just don’t have that kind of dedication and even she would probably agree it would be ill-advised. Although the idea of this car eventually being a derby car sorta made my heart skip a beat, but that would be a looooong ways off. Did buy $10 worth of crap NO ONE needs and figured I’d spent about $2.50 in gas which made me sort of freak out once I got home because with that and food that was an expensive experiment and it just completely overshadowed any “good” that would have come from it. (My mom didn’t want me to worry about it so she paid for the outing though. <3)

The next day, I decided to google a decent-looking recipe for Steak and Guinness Stew because I really like the kind at the pub but it’s like, $11 all told and you don’t really get very much. I figured it can’t be very expensive to make, so I got a recipe, made a list and went to go to the grocery store because it’s in town, so it only takes gas fumes to get there and I can park in the parking lot away from everyone else and spend Blake’s money instead of mine. He said  if I made it there, like when we were driving around in the new car breaking it in over the weekend, I told him I was scared of buying like, $300 worth of groceries if left to my own devices because I’m bad at math and I do a lot of “just in case” purchasing. So he made it pretty simple: if we needed it because it’s something we’re out of, get it and as for anything else, only get it if I think we’re going to use it in the next 24 hours. This is why I went in with the ingredients for a recipe I intended to make once I got home. And because driving alone and navigating the grocery store and paying alone weren’t difficult enough, I decided to raise the difficulty level by adding BEER. I have been in The Beer Store only once, with Madison, that one time she and I decided Blake needed beer when he got home and we carried it home as a surprise. It was 11am, I knew it wouldn’t be busy, but it is Elmvale, so that was really just a theory. Who knows what time farmers start drinking? Really though, the challenge with getting beer at The Beer Store here is that potentially the only way to obtain it is if I parallel parked, which I will flat out tell you, I do not know how to do. And I do not care that I do not know how to do it. BUT! Like I said, I’d be getting there shortly after they open on a Wednesday, chances are no one will be parked out front.

Got to the grocery store and parked a million miles away from all other cars because the less shit around me that I could potentially hit or back into, the better. Here are some pics from my trip:

I bought like, 30 cents worth of these with the intention of Madison making them for the kids to try (she’s vegetarian and likes t o try new things) but I threw them out today because forest food is super perishable and I just completely forgot to tell Madison they were there or what to do with them. Oops.

This is a shaker of pure MSG.

Blake says some of the guys at work  have this stuff at their desk to put on takeout food and I’d never seen it before in the wild AND my friend Paul had just linked to an article about this stuff and a guy who spent 30 days putting it on everything he ate and it didn’t seem to really affect him in any way, if I recall, so I threw this in the cart. More because Blake would find it funny than to actually consume because I grew up that MSG was what caused migraines and that it was super bad for you so I can’t bring myself to actually put it on anything but Blake’s been using it.

I also got these awesome corn trays for our family because Blake wasn’t there to tell me they’re dumb.
I, for one, will greatly enjoy using these because plates are for the birds when it comes to even butter distribution, which is essential.

Checking out went pretty smoothly except that I forgot to bring bags (though truthfully I bet they were in my  trunk) so I had to buy some, but other than the fact that I took 10 times longer in the grocery store to get 10 times less stuff than if I were with Blake because I kept taking pictures of things and uploading them to Instagram…

Next up was the Elmvale Beer Challenge.

I took the back street home and turned right at the library where I had to wait and could scope out the front of the beer store pretty well. Much to the delight of my lucky ass, NO ONE was in front so I just parked on the street and went in. The Beer Store is extra challenging also in that you have to ask for what you want. I thought ahead though and printed out my recipe with a picture of the exact kind of Guinness it called for, so all I did was show the guy the picture and tell him “I want as little of this as possible”. Turns out it came in 4-packs so I got that and came home, TRIUMPHANT!

The stew turned out pretty well, I thought, but Blake wasn’t a huge fan and it didn’t taste as good as the pub’s so the quest for the ultimate Steak and Guinness Stew recipe is still on.

Another day, Madison and I went to get Chinese food. This was my fortune cookie:

Twice now, Blake has shown me how to get to Penetanguishene and Balm Beach and Midland and even though I can pretty much recite the directions, I don’t feel confident enough on those windy backroads where people go way too fast. I’m working on it though. I’d really like to be able to go to Froth by myself eventually. I ordered a windshield mount for my phone and I’ve signed up for Waze and as of tomorrow or sometime very soon, I’ll have the equivalent of AAA and once all that is in place, I think I’ll be more prone to venture farther away from home because with Waze I pretty much can’t get lost. Anyway, there’s a church on the way to and from Penetang that I like sometimes so I took a picture of it last week:

Anyway, it’s taken me all damn day to get this written up between doing other things (like driving to Wasaga Beach by myself for the first time to get myself lunch which I ordered over the phone and paid for by myself), I’ve gotta take my meds, figure out what everyone’s doing for dinner and watch Bates Motel. Peace oot.

PS. If anyone knows anything about seatbelts for dogs, lay it on me.

May 14, 2014

Devil Car 666

I was not okay yesterday and I’m barely okay today. When shit’s blowing up (this car shit + the table breaking and the roof leaking all in one day) and I’m already depressed and struggling to maintain even the most basic tasks, things spiral down very quickly and the persistent suicidal thoughts take over and I become fixated on them and can’t see anything else. Everything becomes so hopeless and I believe my life to mean so little that I’ll spend whole days seriously plotting its logistics for the least impact. My own car is just one more suicide method. A rather good one.

After Blake got home from work yesterday, we drove around talking and arguing until around 11pm and we are getting the standard transmission testicle-cooler all for Blake’s very own personal, exclusive use and I guess that must mean I get the next new car because it’s not like I can just inherit Blake’s when mine dies since he didn’t buy a car I can drive. And he said last night that I “deserve” a car and that I’ve “earned” one, so I take that to mean from now until death do us part, he expects us to be a 2-car family, which I guess is fine, if that’s how he wants us to be.

Madison turns 16 on Friday which makes her eligible to take the written test to get her learner’s permit (G1). If she passes that test, she has her G1 licence which means for a year she can only drive if someone else who has been fully licenced for I think more than 5 years is in the car with her and since I’m home all the time, I feel like the expectation is that’s primarily going to be me because she won’t benefit from having 2 cars otherwise. She’s going to be taking a driving course called Young Drivers of Canada which is how I learned how to drive and how most of my friends learned how to drive and successful completion of this course means you can take the test for your G2 licence (where you can drive by yourself) in 8 months instead of waiting the year. I will not get in a car with her behind the wheel until she has completed this course.

We don’t even have any plans to take Madison for her test and I have no idea if she’s even studied or is ready. And since that hasn’t been planned and she hasn’t passed that test, Blake hasn’t enrolled her in Young Drivers yet.

Realistically when she’ll be ready to take her test, it’ll be winter and you don’t want to take your test in the winter, so that means she can’t even drive the car until spring, which makes me wonder how having a second car BEFORE next spring, like we originally talked about, makes any sense if we’re going to be using benefit to Madison as an excuse. ESPECIALLY when Blake says she can’t drive it until she can afford to pay her own insurance. The way I see it, we’re looking at a year until she is capable of independently taking the car anywhere, even with Young Drivers, and I don’t need a car, so I’m still not totally sure why this purchase couldn’t wait a year when we could afford an automatic transmission *and* still keep the car we have now.

I’m sure Blake will have a reason.

Madison will not be allowed to take the car to school unless there is a specific reason, like she has to transport a heavy object, because that defeats the primary purpose of me having my own car. It does me no good if it’s sitting in the school parking lot all day.

Blake and I agree that she needs to be fully licenced and driving well in an automatic before he even tries to teach her standard, if she even wants to learn.

Ultimately it is my car and if I don’t want Madison to drive it for whatever reason, I’m allowed to say no, I have ultimate veto power.

Another thing is that if it’s 4am (or any time) and I want to go to the store to get a Red Bull before work but Blake’s car is in the way and I can’t move it, I have full permission to wake him up so he can do it. Same with snow shoveling before he goes to work/Madison goes to school so I can get out during the day in the winter should I need to.

I also don’t get oil changes or do anything on the car that would be considered “maintenance”. I’m not even driving it to places where it would get maintenance.

Since Blake is picking up the new car on Friday and Madison is having her birthday party at our house also on Friday which is already a super stressful thing, I told Blake that I was scared I’d end up ruining Madison’s birthday by losing my shit when that thing pulls into my driveway. I’m legitimately afraid of taking my own life, so I can’t guarantee I can “do the right thing” and hold it together in front of Madison and her friends. I don’t feel safe in my mind and I don’t feel safe in my life. So Blake asked if he brought it to the house a different day if that would be better and we agreed on Sunday because I didn’t want to be potentially stressed out and freaking before 9 hours of work on Saturday either. I am so stressed out at “meeting” this car that even writing that sentence makes me feel like throwing up but knowing I don’t have to deal with it AT ALL until Sunday makes the whole thing a little better. I know that the more we talk about it, the more I’ll be okay with it and potentially the sooner it can be here, like maybe early Saturday morning, because it just occurred to me that if Blake and the kids are out joyriding in that thing all day Saturday while I’m working after we agreed on easing me into this thing for very specific reasons, I *will* lose my shit completely and 911 will need to be called and we will probably have to get a divorce and that is no joke. Since Blake said this entire thing is my fault for not saying what I mean, I think I need to convey that to him. I think that would be a billion times worse than it just showing up in my driveway on Friday. I think we need to double certify this plan.

The other thing that we discussed is that…remember how a while back I was talking about this photography project I wanted to do and that I was going to apply for a grant that would have enabled me to hire an assistant who could drive? WELCOME TO SLAVE LABOUR. Madison has no daily chores anymore, Wes has inherited those, she just has bigger things to do on the weekends/periodically. Blake said that I could make this project BE her chores. So there’s that to consider. I question my nerve, skill and equipment but the possibility is still a little bit exciting.

Anyway, I see my shrink today at 3pm. I will be requesting an increase in cipralex.

May 12, 2014

Ooooh You Fancy

Saturday morning, Blake and I went to Cora’s for breakfast, as has been our tradition for the last few weeks, and on our way back, Blake asked if I minded if we stopped in at the Hyundai dealership because he wanted to ask about a car. He’s been talking about cars for the last couple of weeks but I thought it was just talk in preparation for later. As far as I knew, we weren’t getting a new car until next spring. Apparently I misunderstood and long story short, Blake bought a new car on Saturday and he picks it up on Friday. He, unbelievably to me, bought a car that I can’t drive because it’s standard and DO NOT tell me I can learn because that is not the goddamn point. Driving is almost impossible for me as it is and he bought a car that adds a great big serving of extra difficulty. And don’t tell me it’s easy either. Fuck you. Again, that is not the point.

So now that I’ve said that, now that I’ve stated to the universe for the record that I am absolutely livid and deeply hurt that he did this, allow me to continue.

See, what happened was he was telling me about all the features over the phone while I was trying to work and I was like, “I do not give a fuck this is not my car, I will not be driving it”. It never even occurred to me in a billion years that he would buy a car that only he could drive. Standard transmissions simply do not exist in my world.  I don’t know how they work, I don’t know how to work them and I don’t fucking care because they make these crazy newfangled fancy automatic transmissions now and in 2014, people who “drive stick” on purpose and are proud of it are beyond my comprehension. Unless you’re driving a Mack truck or a tractor I just don’t see the point. There are two types of people guaranteed to annoy the ever-loving shit out of me: first, “horse people”, keep those fuckers away from me; secondly, “car men” (and I say “men” because I’ve known a million of those but only one person I’d consider a “car woman”). Those are two subjects I have negative interest in so if those are your primary areas of expertise, um, I’m sorry, and you better be super funny or have other interests or something because we probably aren’t going to be friends otherwise. And until last night at around midnight when Madison told me he bought a car with a standard transmission, I thought Blake felt the same way. If people asked what kind of car he had, he said “a red one” because the kind AND even the colour he would say, ultimately, didn’t matter because we picked the colour the dealership had that day. But standard transmissions apparently exist in Blake’s world so when that was presented to him by the salesman, who I’m sure was a real swell guy, with a million bells & whistles for only like, $20 more a month than we were paying for our current car (which we only stopped making payments on recently) that the fanciest thing on it is that the FRONT windows are power windows, the back ones aren’t though, that’s how base model it is, Blake went for it. Because after all, I wasn’t going to be driving it anyway, right? He thinks this detail SO INSIGNIFICANT that he doesn’t even tell me about it. I know it has a moon roof (who fucking cares, that’s stupid and if I could have picked one without that I would have). It has ass warmers. I know it has cruise control, which I’m glad he has. I know it has air conditioning, which I’m glad he has. I know it has a rear-facing camera, which is just whatever. Blake could parallel park the Oscar Meyer Weinermobile in the middle of Toronto during a blackout. Big fucking deal. It has bluetooth something and a big screen on the dashboard so he can see in super big letters what song he’s listening to. It doesn’t have GPS or anything useful on that screen, just basically music information. According to Blake. So this to me is nothing more than unnecessary  nerdbait. So I know ALL OF THIS BULLSHIT THAT I DON’T CARE ABOUT OR I’M IMPRESSED BY IN ANY WAY, but he doesn’t tell me, “oh and I’m the only one who can drive it”. Uh, that should be fact #fucking 1 when you call me on the phone asking me if you should buy the fucking thing. Oh and I know it’s silver. That should be fact #fucking2.

When he came home from the dealership he said “we” bought a car. There was no “we” involved. There was no “we” in his thinking. Blake bought himself a car that only he can drive. A car that we didn’t even need because the only thing wrong with the old one was that it didn’t have AC or cruise control. Let me state for the record that when we bought the last car, I told him to get both of those things and when he said money would have to come from other places, I said that was fine. Because I was actually at the dealership for that one. The only reason I wasn’t at the dealership this time was because I had to work.

And I know full well how venomous I’m being right now. I warned Blake that I would be processing this ENTIRE car thing – because there’s more to it than this – via blog because that’s just what I do. I’m writing this NOW so I don’t bring it up in every fight we have from now until we die.

Having said all this, here’s what Blake really did or thought he was doing:

– made it supposedly financially feasible for me to have my own car despite my having no use for one
– Madison turns 16 on Friday and will be getting her learner’s permit on Monday, so he’s enabled her to have access to something to practice on…if I’m with her.
– got the air conditioning and cruise control that we wanted to get in the old car because he has a 4 hour commute twice a week which sucks 2 months out of the year, but couldn’t afford at the time

The car he bought, supposedly, *was* “just what they had”, like the floor model, when they said “standard or automatic?” to google their inventory Blake probably said it didn’t matter because Blake doesn’t care about cars (supposedly) and is really cheap, so he wants the most bang for his very small buck. To get a more modest car or an automatic transmission, he said it would have cost more money and we would either have had to trade in or sell the car we have now or wait another year to get a second car because I guess spring is the best time to buy cars because of reasons, I dunno and I don’t want Blake to have to go another summer without AC & cruise control. It’s just the fact that I wasn’t even a consideration in the most important aspect of this supposed “married people ‘we’ purchase”.

When Blake and I were talking about it last night because you’re goddamn right I woke his ass up in the middle of the night when I found out he bought a car I cannot drive, he told me to pretend like he hadn’t signed the paperwork yet and to tell him what decision to make because if it bothered me that much, he was pretty sure he could get out of it. He’d probably lose his deposit but the deal didn’t need to take place. But he presented me with all of these scenarios that ended up with us still only having one car or still only having the old car with no air conditioning or cruise control which he refuses to be an option, so there really wasn’t a choice to be made if those were the only options.

So as of Friday, Blake has a new car. A new car that I can’t drive. It’s silver and it’s fancy. I haven’t even seen it and I despise everything about it. I despise how we came to have it and I despise what it means. I just want to take a crowbar to the fucking thing and light it on fire. I will celebrate every dent and ding of this car’s natural born life. The more I write, the angrier I get and the more I don’t know if I can do this. I feel like I’m being lied to and manipulated, like there probably WAS another option and he’s just lying because he wants air conditioning so badly OR the salesguy is full of crap and actually CAN give us a better deal on a car I can live with. He says this is the cheapest car on the market, well maybe I don’t believe that. Maybe we could go to another dealership and tell them what this dealership is offering and they can give us something better that is more modest and more inclusive. Blake does it all the time with the cable companies. I just feel like he didn’t even try at all, and I know he didn’t because I wasn’t a thought in his mind.  I should have never said yes. No one should walk into a dealership and just buy a car the same day. That’s not enough time to think. That tells me they got suckered/upsold into something and Blake’s just not telling me what or he hasn’t realized it yet. For THAT DAY ONLY we could get no payments for 60 days. Why only that day?

SOMETHING IS JUST WRONG. THIS HAPPENED TOO FAST.

So as of Friday, I have my own car. Yay. It’s going to sit in the driveway and rot. Maybe I’ll take a crowbar to that one and light that one on fire. Drive it into a wall. It is mine he said, after all. Blake says it’s normal for families to have 2 cars but it doesn’t feel right or normal to me AT ALL. I am extremely uncomfortable with the entire situation from every conceivable angle. 99% of me wants no part in any of this 2 car business whatsoever but there’s 1% of me who agrees with Blake that maybe in the summer if he’s at work, it’s hot as fuck outside and we’re all stuck inside that me or Madison could drive us all to the beach. But then there’s the realistic side of me who knows that isn’t going to happen and I can’t afford for it to happen anyway. I can’t afford gas, I can’t afford parking, I have no way of increasing my income and I’m stretched as thin as possible.  I see no other practical application for this car involving me. Explain to me why I’m supposed to be excited about this again? Because clearly I’m missing it.

And I also realize that probably every single one of you reading this is thinking I’ve lost my mind and I’m making a big deal over nothing and that I should be happy I have a car and I agree with you! You’re also probably thinking “Saint Blake” thoughts. This is not particularly rational but if you know me at ALL you know that I am NOT A RATIONAL PERSON and I don’t do well with change. We got a dishwasher last month and every single time I go into the kitchen and it’s running and I can’t get a fork or I have to interact with it, I think “who are we?” I don’t even know how to use it, haven’t even looked at the buttons, I want no part in it. It’s witchcraft. I’m getting better at ignoring its existence though, just as I’m sure I’ll eventually get better at ignoring Blake’s existence the less he considers me until we die.

Now I’ve been interrupted by a work meeting, kids coming home and Blake finishing work so there’s no way I can finish this post properly. I’m going to tell Blake that we can keep things as they are with his new toy, but I’m just gonna be sad about it and disappointed in him for a little while. This post may also need to be a two-parter, I don’t know. I don’t know if I’m any better off now than before I started writing this.

PS. Our driveway won’t even hold 2 cars and there’s not a chance in hell I’m shoveling the driveway. Thought I’d throw that out there also.

May 6, 2014

Sunny Versus the Volcano

So as I’ve mentioned before, I hate smoking cannabis and I can’t eat it. That leaves vaporizing. For those who have no idea what that is, vaporizing is where you have a device that heats up finely ground weed, which I *think* makes everything good in the weed (cannabinoids) evaporate (?) and it creates vapor that you inhale the way you would smoke but it’s a million times better for your lungs than smoking and you theoretically use less cannabis with a vaporizer than smoking it and definitely a lot less than eating.

There are all kinds of vaporizers on the market but they basically fall into two categories: personal and tabletop. A personal vaporizer is small, usually discreet and portable for medicating on the go; with these you use the draw of your own breath to inhale the vapor and they are powered by batteries. A tabletop vaporizer is exactly what it sounds like, it plugs into the wall, is usually about the size of a teakettle and some of them have a long hose (called a whip) where you again, use your own breath to draw the vapor out of the machine while others have fans built into them, shooting the vapor upwards and into plastic bags with special ends on them so the vapor doesn’t leak out and with these you “sip” the vapor out of the bag.

In the summer my friend lent me the tabletop kind with the whip and it didn’t do anything for me. Literally. I used it and nothing happened. A person I was with used it and got high as fuck on like, NOTHING, but that person is a lightweight so I figured I just didn’t use it enough or properly and I didn’t, at the time, want to use a gadget to medicate anyway so I gave it back to my friend. (And they told me before they lent it to me that “it’s not a very good one” so I figured it was the machine, not me.)

Then I became legal and since I was legal, I wanted to be able to medicate out in the world and I didn’t know how to roll a joint. That’s pretty much the end and short of it. Plus, better for your lungs, less weed etc. So I ask Blake for a Magic Flight Launch Box for Christmas as my main gift because I figured if it had its own really popular subreddit, it must be good*. He obliges and gives it to me early because I wanted to practice with it before we had to go to Blake’s work Christmas party. As I’ve explained before it didn’t work for me and yes I was using it correctly. I ended up giving it t0 my friend because it was useless to me.

At this point I figure it’s gotta be me so I start googling for reasons why nothing would happen and asking around and suuuuper long story short it IS me AND it’s the device, my tolerance is just too high for a personal vaporizer to be effective to me in any way, it doesn’t produce enough vapor in a short enough amount of time to be beneficial just due to its size.

Everyone I tell about this flat out does not believe me and tells me I have to try a Volcano. The Volcano, as my friend Steph put it, is the Cadillac of all vaporizers. It’s a tabletop unit that uses the bags and it’s $700 USD + shipping + customs & duty fees. It’s a pricey device. It’s not like I can just buy one and if it doesn’t work, it doesn’t work, oh well, like with the Magic Flight, which was pretty inexpensive as far as vaporizers go.

One day I was on Reddit, looking at r/trees as I often do and someone mentioned this place in Toronto called Vapor Central which was “a good place to warm up” according to the poster. So I google and go to the site and it’s a “vapor lounge” (and yes I know the entirety of this post may be a repeat for some people, this is gonna be the last time I go through all the backstory) and at this vapor lounge, you pay a $5 day fee and with that fee you are allowed to use their Volcanoes and bongs and they also sell candy and pop. I tell Blake about it and all winter it ends up being one of those “meant to do” things that never happened.

Then my friend Steph comes to town and by “town” I mean Toronto (this time, “town” can literally mean the town I live in or it could mean Barrie, which is biggest city close to us or it can mean Toronto) and we hadn’t seen each other in a really long time so we wanted to get together. I don’t know Toronto AT ALL and wouldn’t have even known where to begin, but I floated Vapor Central as an idea, which she was down for and I blogged about that experience HERE.

I thought Vapor Central was pretty cool but didn’t feel I got to really try out the Volcano fairly because I was sharing with Steph so it was hard to gauge how much I was actually inhaling and because we were being social and sharing and stuff it was harder to tell if I was still medicated from before leaving the house or just in a good mood and how much I was actually getting. I did feel like pizza afterward so it did work to some degree but I was not the “high as fuck” I was promised by pretty much everyone.

Blake said that we should go back for an afternoon so I could use the Volcano to medicate and stay medicated as I would at home with my bong and out in the world with joints and if the Volcano was a viable option, he’d get me one, figuring it would pay for itself over time in how much we’d be saving on weed.

So Sunday we packed up our shit with the intention of going there and staying there as long as basically I could stand being there, and using the Volcano as I think I would use it at home. I brought my laptop, which only has a battery life of about 2 hours and it’s not worth it to get a new battery because the laptop will die long before any new battery would anyway, so I was a little concerned with what I was going to do to keep myself entertained while we were down there. I also had my phone, which we were going to use as a hotspot; the iPad and two notebooks, my working notebook and a new “all subject” one for more longform writing. At the last minute I decided to bring my laptop’s power cord even though I was sure there was no free outlet at the table I was hoping to get.

The drive down there was pretty uneventful and we parked at the same P parking lot as we did last time, just down the street from the lounge, but once we were parked and I had my bag in my lap ready to get out of the car, I started having a panic attack. It basically boiled down to feeling judged and not good enough to be at the vapor lounge because we’re not from there and we’re not regulars and we’re literally using them so we never have to go there again. Whatever, I took half of an olanzapine and two Ativan and after a while I felt okay and we walked to Vapor Central.

We get there and it’s on the 2nd floor of a storefront so we go up the stairs and immediately at the top of the stairs is a counter with a turnstile where you pay your day fee and go in. Blake went in first because I make him go in first everywhere (which makes him feel like people think he’s the rudest man on Earth but it’s either that or literally never go anywhere) and he pointed out that not only was the table I wanted free, but it had an open outlet that no one would probably notice if I plugged my laptop into. We pay our fees, claim our table and Blake goes to the back to get me a Volcano bag (you have to leave your driver’s licence with them so you’ll bring it back) and a Diet Coke. He returns with both AND Oreos, which have been my main sustenance lately. He shows me again how to use the Volcano (once the temperature is set, which it already was, it’s 2 buttons) and then he leaves to get a coffee next door at Starbucks.

We ended up being there for about 4 & a half hours and during that time I inhaled 8-10 Volcano bags and I got medicated enough to think trying both chicken shawarma and chicken souvlaki on a pita was a good idea (only liked the souvlaki but once it got messy I handed it off to Blake), so YAY TRYING NEW THINGS! ESPECIALLY FOOD! (That’s due to the strain though.) The problem is, it took me quite a while to get there. I’m a terrible scientist but I vaped to the same point I would have gotten with one bowl of my bong only it took me a long time to get there (hours) and the bong would have taken 4 minutes (I’ve timed it). That got me to the point of appetite stimulation, so that’s when I ate and then if I were at home, I would have smoked shortly after eating, if not immediately after, because if I don’t I’ll get sick (if I’m not already), so that’s what I did with the Volcano only the Volcano was ineffective for after meal use because it just takes too damn long. I was starting to feel sick from eating and the Volcano wasn’t really making me feel better fast enough that I got so annoyed with it that I figured I could sit at Vapor Central and hit the Volcano for 2 more hours and hope it worked or we could drive 2 hours home where I could use my bong and feel immediately better guaranteed. So we packed up and left.

I often feel sick first thing in the morning, which is why I get up so early before work, so I can medicate to be able to work but be clear-headed by the time it’s time for cognitive function. The Volcano would never work for that. I can’t get up THAT early for work to do nothing but sit there and suck a bag. I already suspected the first time we went to Vapor Central that medicating and staying medicated with the Volcano would be a full-time job and I’m only more convinced of that now. And yeah, I was using it correctly. Kinda hard to fuck it up. If anything, I was dumping out vaped bud that was still useable and overdoing it because I wanted every bag I inhaled to have visible vapor in it to be SURE I was doing it right.

I don’t think this is just tolerance though, I think maybe there’s something to vaping itself that just doesn’t jive with my system the way eating it doesn’t. Like maybe not all of the cannabinoids are released through vaping and it just so happens to be one of the ones that doesn’t that helps me. Who knows? Unfortunately there’s not a ton of actual science out there about this stuff, or at least not that I’ve ever been able to find. Just anecdotal evidence that some people can’t eat it and people online saying that personal vaporizers don’t work on them, but admitting that it could be a tolerance thing. Oh well.

 So that’s it. Volcano: case closed.

TL;DR Sunny is a cyborg.

(*this is dozy logic. Do not use this logic for anything.)

PS. In case you missed it other places, here’s me on Sunday trying desperately to get stoned at Vapor Central:

And here’s me on my very first legal 4/20:

April 22, 2014

Forsythia

I’m having a really hard time with this whole poetry deal. I find it incredibly frustrating. Right now I’m reading Collected Poems 1947-1997 by Allen Ginsberg more or less one poem every time I go to the bathroom (I’m not JUST reading it on the can) and I’m frustrated because I don’t understand why it isn’t more literal and why lines are broken up the way they are. It makes no sense. No one talks like that.  And even Allen has some pretty foofy rhymey crap, but I’m forcing myself to even read those ones because I think the only way I’ll understand why people write poems instead of prose (just say what you mean! fuck! dammit! Jesus!) is if I read it and if I don’t read it, I won’t be able to do it.

I figure it’s like comic books. I never used to understand comic books. They just didn’t make sense to me because the pacing of them pissed me off. The only comics I read as a kid were some of the comic strips in the Saturday paper, my mom’s For Better or For Worse books, which I now know are trades, and Archie Double Digests. I bought some comics when I was a kid because I thought they’d be collector’s items, and as such, I never read them (and they ultimately ended up being thrown out), but as you can see, when it came to comics I was used to reading a lot more in one sitting than your standard little flimsy paper comic. Plus all the comics I ever saw were superheroes and I have zero interest in superheroes then or now, so I just wrote comics off completely until I met Blake. (With the exception of Princess Ai but that’s Courtney Love and I didn’t like it.)

It started with the tv show LOST. Blake said, “hey, since you like LOST, maybe you’ll like this Brian K. Vaughn comic about all the men on Earth dying but one and his pet monkey”. Next thing I knew, I was nose deep in Y: The Last Man and I ended up getting all the trades of that between Xmas/birthday/Mother’s Day and I loved it. It wasn’t about a goddamn superhero, there were obviously a lot of female characters, it was an interesting story and the art was decent. I didn’t know comics could be like that. I didn’t realize that after a while some comics become trades*. I forget the order of things after that but I read the Scott Pilgrim comics because they’re Canadian and so was the movie and I started reading the Buffy the Vampire Slayer comics but didn’t really like Scott Pilgrim even though they’re thick like trades (I don’t think they were ever flimsy paper comics) and couldn’t get into the Buffy ones. I still plan to revisit the Buffy ones because I didn’t read all of the ones I have, but it’s one of those “when I get around to it” kinda things. Disappointed in Buffy and Scott Pilgrim, I gave up on comics for a few years.

Then The Walking Dead TV show happened. I knew it was a comic because Blake had been reading it when it first came out, but it wasn’t until I found out that there were fucking COMPENDIUMS, (PLURAL!), I obtained those and devoured them. And it was good timing because the second compendium came out at a time where you could pick up with flimsy comics where the compendium left off, so that’s what we did. Except again, the timing of issues and the fact that each one only tells one snippet of story, it just pissed me off so we buy them and Blake reads them and they pile up on my shelf and what ended up happening was we downloaded all of them onto the iPad and I read a year’s worth of Walking Dead comics in like, 45 minutes or less, in the car, in the dark, on the way to Florida. And I think that’s how comics should be read. This one issue thing is bullshit.

After Walking Dead I tried out Pretty Deadly, at my friend Diego’s suggestion and it was just beautiful. I didn’t know comics could be like THAT! Again, I hated the pacing and since it was only 5 issues, I ended up reading them all again in one sitting after the last one came out so I could read the story as a complete thing. Because I liked that so much, I gave Itty Bitty Hellboy a try because I like the Hellboy movies and it was cute. I still have not read them, however because every time I think about reading them, I think “comics blah” because while I’m learning, due to being exposed to different things, that comics can be good and not annoying, I’m still biased against them for some reason.  Having said that, now that I understand how they work a little better, they just make more sense and my brain can comprehend them. I’m not there with poetry yet. All I’ve read so far is Allen Ginsberg, a TEENY bit of Sylvia Plath (just peeked inside the book, said, “oh dear” and closed it), I gave Walt Whitman a shot (just no), Percy Shelley (Blake’s favourite, I don’t get it) and I’ve just been paying attention to the poetry all around me, which there is actually a surprising amount.

I have a lot of doubt as to whether I’m capable of writing a poem at all, let alone one that isn’t complete garbage. I’m so petrified of not being able to do it that I haven’t actually tried. I have pages and pages of poetic snippets of things from my days but I have no idea what to do with them or how to assemble any of them into a poem. I’ve started a running list of things I could write poems about and the list is sitting at 42 items right now. All I fucking have to do is pick one and try but I stare at the cursor blinking in Word and my mind goes as blank as the page. I told Blake that I wasn’t sure, at this point, if A) I were capable of writing anything other than worthless blog posts or if B) I was capable of writing outside of WordPress, like maybe I need the clutter of WordPress to not be intimidated by the page. For the longest time I wasn’t capable of writing anything outside of the Live Journal client Semagic. I would write blog posts in Semagic and paste them into WordPress. So dumb.

In case it’s never been completely fucking evident: change freaks me out. I’m (almost) always the last person in the pool. I still use SquirrelMail because I have e-mails saved in there from like, 2003 and I’m not sure how to preserve them if I switched to gmail. I also don’t know how to make all my domain e-mails work with gmail AND SquirrelMail colour-codes all of my e-mail by e-mail address (different domains) and I don’t think gmail can do that. Eventually I’m going to have to switch to something because SquirrelMail isn’t even really supported anymore but I will go clawing and scratching.

I have one REALLY simple idea for a “poem” but it’s very difficult to execute and I’m not sure if I’m up to the task since it’s something, as far as my googlings tell me, has not yet been done.  If it were easy, it would have been done by now, I figure. I also figure I have my whole life or until someone else thinks of it for that one though. I spent most of yesterday thinking about it as hard as I could and now it’s time to forget about it and think about other things because usually that’s how the ideas come. So I guess technically I did try a “poem” but if you knew what it was so far you’d think “not really” too because it’s not yet…

Soooo begrudgingly I have Instagram. I know I ranted and raved about Instagram “photographers” being annoying with filters a while back (and I still pretty much think that) but a couple of weeks ago maybe, my friend Leora, who lives in Vienna, asked on Facebook who all had Instagram because she just made an account to document her time there. And then I watched as so many of my friends one by one said “I do!” so I decided to follow my friends and give Instagram another chance, this time looking at it more as a social networking site than just a site to share photos with shitty filters. So far it’s been okay. I like that I can post to multiple places all in one shot (if it would do Live Journal, that would be great but I don’t foresee that ever happening), the editing tools are simple and easy to use and I think square photos look nicer than the rectangular ones my phone automatically takes.

Tomorrow I see Stephanie the dietitian. According to Wii Fit I’ve lost another 5 lbs since I saw her last, which isn’t great, but right now I’m eating okay because of this cannabis strain I have, as I’ve posted about before. I’m not eating a lot but what I eat I try to make “count”. Last night I actually ate an entire hamburger with ketchup, mustard, relish and onions. Normally I would eat 1/3 of that same burger with just ketchup. Furthermore, my comment after it was gone was that it would have been better with cheese, which is what I asked Blake for originally but he didn’t see cheese in the list of toppings (I wrote “I want a cheeseburger from South St…” and since I would never ordinarily order that, he saw “hamburger”) so there was no cheese to be had. But still, I ate it and I normally would not have. So that’s good. I can’t remember if I posted this at the time, but when I saw my shrink a little over a week ago, she went over my bloodwork and my anaemia is out of control which could be contributing to my depression and the fact that I’m tired all the time. She also wants me to have them draw blood again to check my B12 levels because apparently that can have an effect too. I told her if my B12 was too low then that was too damn bad because the treatment for it is never ever going to happen in this lifetime or the next, which I told her in those exact terms. She wants the bloodwork done anyway.  Godammit.

And that’s all I can think of posting at this very moment and I think I need macaroni and cheese, so I’m gonna go get started on that. Blake’s not going to be home until like, 8pm tonight so this will be lunch and I think for dinner I’m going to either have a hot dog or a P.L.T. because I need meat and those are my options. (Newly formed food rule because the idea makes me feel like barfing: I don’t think I can eat eggs and macaroni and cheese on the same day.) Peace oot.

(*My friend Diego says ALL comics become trades. Is that true?)

April 16, 2014

Dear Jay & Sapphire,

Yesterday was a snow day. April 15th. A snow day. Despite the fact we were having a blizzard, Wes chose to go to school. Madison chose to stay home.

I started cipralex Sunday night and I don’t know if it’s working or if things are just improving because it’s not really “winter” anymore even though yesterday was a snow day or if this is even just a flukey few days, but Monday was a good day and yesterday was a good day and so far today’s been pretty great as well.

Yesterday I actually had an IDEA. It was a terrible idea, truly dreadful, but despite it being a dumb idea that would never go anywhere, I spent the day nurturing it (with Madison thinking there was something very wrong with my imagination) and came up with several pages of notes and some scenes. It’s like…World War Z meets Attack of the Killer Tomatoes, the latter of which I’ve never actually seen but I understand the concept completely. If I came up with one idea this bizarre per week no matter how terrible and unusable it may be, I would be a happier person. I do have a question though, well two: does something have to be sentient to feel pain? does something that feels pain have to be sentient? Like, by definition? Sentience is partially defined as being “characterized by sensation” and pain’s a sensation…? I’ve confused myself.

Just kidding! This is actually many weeks worth of cannabis, although it IS the most I’ve ever had at one time. See, I normally order 2 weeks worth at a time because Peace Naturals, my licenced producer, often only has 2 strains of whole bud available, usually one that might be useful to me or that gets the job done and one that won’t be, and these 2 “blends” that they pre-mill that I have no interest in because I like to know exactly what I’m smoking and if necessary I can make my own blends, more commonly called a salad, based on what I’ve had before. The reason for such a limited selection is simply that they have more demand than supply, they only have so much room and plants take oh so long to grow. Because you don’t usually get much of a choice in what you’re ordering, Blake said that if I found a strain that was good, we would order as much of it as we could while they had it because once it’s sold out, it could be months before it’s available again. So that’s what we did with this strain, called Marcela.

Two weeks ago when I ordered from Peace Naturals, all they had was Bekay, which I’d been smoking for two weeks already with poor results but better than nothing; an indica I had no interest in because that is the last thing I need; the blends and Marcela. I didn’t want Marcela because when I first became a Peace Naturals client, I ordered some of that and not only did it have seeds in it (like I said, there have been growing pains), it was lower on the THC spectrum and I didn’t find it effective, but this batch was significantly higher in THC than the last one and higher than anything else they had to offer so I ordered a week’s worth of Bekay since I knew it would “get the job done”, if only minimally, and reluctantly a week’s worth of Marcela, worried that if I went too long with Bekay, I’d have tolerance issues.

When it came, I started with the Marcela intending to give myself a break from Bekay for a week, and almost immediately I felt better and not only did I not feel nauseous, I wanted food and it didn’t matter what. The first two days were actually so food ridiculous that I freaked out and mixed both strains together, figuring feeling half as good for twice as long was better than pigging out one week and starving the next. As a result, I’ve eaten every single day since and some days twice. I went from eating around 500 calories/day to 800-1000 and there have been way less food tears because some mental barriers appear to break down with this strain. I’m actually a little scared that since I’ve gone from barely eating to almost actually eating, my body will be like “HOLY SHIT FOOD! WE BETTER STORE ALL THIS FAT!” But I guess that’s not a bad problem to have all things considered. I weighed myself a week ago and I’d lost another 4lbs but I’m not sure how fast it takes these things to catch up with you.

So that’s the “rah rah! Peace Naturals!” portion of this post because for my issues, this really is the best strain I’ve had since I started medicating in August and the strain is proprietary to the company. I actually have a million nice things to say about Peace Naturals, actually, like the fact that their customer service department is almost as good as the one I work for and when I have a question, concern or give feedback, I’m met with nothing but helpfulness, politeness and graciousness.

Unfortunately though, I am but one voice of many.

When I started with Peace Naturals, they sold their product in 5g vacuum-sealed bags and two of those bags, still sealed, would fit in a pill bottle, but only one would – so 5g – when it was unfurled, so to speak. That meant that half of a pill bottle for me was one day’s worth of doses and it was pretty easy to eyeball that, no scale necessary. That’s how I’d been managing my medication and several times I mentioned this to customer service reps as something I liked about the company and that I hoped would not change. And I didn’t think it would because supposedly the average Canadian’s prescription is for 3g/day, according to Peace Naturals themselves (that’s how much they suggest you ask your doctor for – or at least it did last time I looked, they’ve changed some things in the last little while).

Then one order came with taller pill bottles with one loose but sealed 15g bag. I e-mailed the customer service rep I speak with the most and said, “hey, that’s not cool, please don’t do this” because if I hadn’t have saved previous bottles of normal size, rationing out days 2.5g/15g at a time would be more difficult. I ditched the big bottles and used old bottles and told them that I’m glad I’m a packrat.

Then the NEXT order came 15g loose in the white plastic abominations above and I was like, “COME ON! This is WORSE! I can’t even see through this!” I also pointed out that that’s my prescription on the front of these bottles and that if I want to go out into the world and carry cannabis on me legally, I have to have one of these bottles in my possession. I joked, “I shouldn’t have to buy a bigger purse!” and pointed out that men shouldn’t have to invest in one. I was told that was a good point and it would be passed along to the packaging department.

Next order, same white bottles. E-mailed again because this time not only was it loose in these shitty white bottles, the bag the bottles came in wasn’t vacuum-sealed and you could smell product through it. From what I understand, Health Canada says packaging needs to be child-proof and tamper-evident, as well as smell-proof. I was told that my concerns had been passed on last time and that the shipping department had already started switching over to the new bottles but that she’d forward these comments as well.

By the next order, I gave up. What more could I say? I don’t want to carry my full prescription of marijuana around with me everywhere? And of course THIS order, they’ve somehow got 10 extra grams squashed into the same size bottle. Still having to use old pill bottles both to ration and to carry cannabis with me into the world (a pill bottle holds a joint surprisingly well).

Well, I get a mass e-mail as a “Valued Client” last night and the same one again just now, where I guess some people must have been complaining about the new bottles too but their complaint was that the child-proof bottles were difficult to open. And they are, but I didn’t complain about that because it never occurred to me. Fortunately, I don’t have dexterity issues which y’know, lots of people medicate for, not to mention how many patients must be over 65. Anyway, in this e-mail Peace Naturals basically said:

1. The bottles aren’t difficult to open because their torque rating says so.
2. Instructions on how to open and close them which would be the instructions for any other child-proof bottle.
3. Oh and they switched to a wider-mouthed bottle to make it “much easier for our clients to pick out their flowers of choice.”

So pretty much those complaining about them are both wrong AND stupid and how the buds look is more important than client comfort. I’m sure they weighed the risks of this e-mail. They had to have. Especially because they sent it twice. I just don’t understand people caring all that much about “choice” flowers, yeah it’s nice, but you’re still going to smoke all of them, are you not? Meanwhile someone shouldn’t have a hard time accessing their medication AT ALL, forget doing it in a “choice” fashion.

Anyway, I have to go to an appointment so that’s all the time I have. Ultimately I’m really happy with Peace Naturals and I’m glad I chose them, it’s just hard to have patience while they work out all the kinks. Also if my pharmacy switched to shittier bottles, I’d likewise pitch a fit. Medication is basically the cornerstone of my life.

April 14, 2014

Too old to die young.

Friday I saw my shrink. My shrink who is retiring in August. She thinks I’m depressed and that this is probably not a life phase and maybe my B12 is deficient (which she only thought of because I’m a moron and mentioned it without thinking and now I have to have another blood test) and I should be taking iron (nothnx) or eating more meat (just can’t). She prescribed an anti-depressant called cipralex which I started last night. I’m in a pretty good mood today but I don’t think the drug would work that fast, especially not at such a low dose (it’s so low they don’t even make pills that small, I have to cut them in half). It’s probably because it’s spring and I’ve had/am having a good weekend and [REDACTED] [REDACTEDED] on Game of Thrones last night and also Mad Men started but I haven’t watched that yet because I wanted to get my weekend down “on paper” before my fuzzy goldfish brain forgot crucial details. Oh and the strain of cannabis I have right now is working EXTREMELY well. Like, I’ve been eating every single day since having it. I just ordered 90 more grams of the stuff because I’m afraid they’ll run out (they do that….it sucks….it’s a new system and a new company, it’ll get better….)

Writing at Froth on Friday after my shrink appointment was a bust. We got there around 4:20pm and there was a sign on the door that said they were closing at 5pm for a private function. This put Blake and me in a crapola mood but we went to Fran’s in Barrie (45+ minutes away from where we were) which is a chain diner that’s open 24 hours (except ours isn’t, it’s just open late) anyway because we’d scouted it out as a potential writing place the Friday before and had planned on trying to write there at some point.

Fran’s was yes & no. I had issues with Fran’s food this time around. I ordered the chicken club, which I’ve ordered before, and there was a bucket of mayo on it on all sides of the inside of the sandwich, which is three pieces of bread if you’ve never had a club. As I’ve explained before, I like mayo and I did ask for mayo, but lots of mayo makes me feel sick just looking at it. I ate 1/4 of the sandwich and just couldn’t do it and the fries were stupidly salty and the gravy no good. This put me in a crappier mood because honestly, I was hungry and this shouldn’t have been difficult. I cried a little (luckily we were in a booth). Blake told me I could order something else but we are so fucking broke right now that this was going to be our last excursion until next paycheque and that just made me feel guilty so I just ordered the soup of the day, which was mushroom, because it was only $3.99 and when the waiter inquired as to why this was happening, Blake just told him the sandwich was not good. This was like sending something back, which I’ve never done before in my life and I was not comfortable with in the slightest and the unfortunate thing was that the soup was pretty terrible too. I ate about half of it just to be polite to the chef since I felt bad for “sending back” the sandwich which was truly difficult for me to do but that was how awful I felt about the sandwich.

After the waiter took away the soup, we got refills on our drinks and set up our writing devices (my laptop/his Surface tablet). Fran’s doesn’t have wifi so we used my phone as a hotspot because we had to access our Sky/One Drives and I’m not sure how long we stayed before the waiter told us “no hurry” but presented us with the bill and didn’t offer to give us any more refills. We decided t0 leave and they didn’t charge us for the sandwich. I’m not sure how good it was for Blake as far as productivity but after the food fiasco was over with, I didn’t write anything but I did read about Allen Ginsberg, Lucien Carr, Neal Cassady and William S. Burroughs on Wikipedia (not done with the latter) and I was in full on sponge mode which I find difficult to do when Blake’s home for some reason. I just don’t like being online when Blake’s hanging out in my office but I don’t want him to not hang out in my office either so Fran’s worked well. If there is a next time (up to Blake, I can work there), I’m going to stick to breakfast foods. It’s pretty rare that a restaurant will fuck up peameal and eggs, in my experience.

After Fran’s we came home and watched the movie Immortal Beloved, which was recommended by Anne Rice and it was an okay movie but I didn’t find it anywhere near as inspiring as she said it was to her, so I think I ended up just going to bed afterward.

Saturday morning I woke up and Blake and I tried to watch Amadeus, also recommended by Anne Rice and I think I made it about half an hour in before I knew there was no way I could commit to 3 hours of that.

Stupidly I relied on those two movies to carry me through inspirationally until my books got here from Amazon (hopefully today) and with that plan falling through completely I felt totally dejected. Not good on a Saturday when I have to work my marathon shift and I spent the last hour of freedom before work crying because work is the last thing I wanted to do. This is definitely a depression thing, mixed with a constantly feeling weak or sick thing, with a little bit of just being plain ol’ burnt out because I haven’t really felt like I’ve had a chance to recharge my mental batteries in a long time. My last good creative idea, based on inspiration, was in November and it was only a little one.

Also on Saturday, making things worse, Blake and Madison were going to see Courage My Love in Barrie and Nicole would be there (because she manages the band), who I’ve only seen once since moving here.

When I logged into work at 2pm, my coworker and buddy whose shift overlaps mine by an hour, asked how I was and I was honest with her. And because she is probably the most positive, sunshiniest outlook person I know she was like, “I can cover you if you want to go see your friend” and I was thankful but she could only cover me for 2 hours and that wouldn’t work with everyone else’s plans. That’s when I remembered that one of my other coworkers technically owed me 2 hours because I covered for her last week so I texted her and asked if she could help me out and she said yes despite the fact that it was super short notice, which meant that I had the last 4 hours of my shift covered and that was the perfect amount of time to throw on a pair of jeans and some lipstick and go to the rock & roll show with Blake and Madison (and Madison’s friend) and Nicole.

This is Courage My Love:

They’re supernaturally talented 20 year old twins and a dude named Brandon and they put on a really good performance with their “bring the guitar” boxes to jump around on, as Blake calls them. They’re playing Warped Tour this summer so if you’re going , check them out!

It was a rock show so it was hard to really talk to Nicole but it was still good to see her and at the end of the night when it was time to leave, I cried. I miss her. And afterward I was thinking about how, before Blake and I were together and I was in a long distance relationship with Chris, Nicole and I used to spend hours on the phone together shooting the shit and writing song lyrics and song lyrics are a lot like poems so if I’m capable of that – or was at one point – then poetry shouldn’t be this giant mystery to me.

Truthfully, I think the biggest creative obstacle I have right now is that I don’t feel like I have anything to say. Or I do but I either don’t know how to best express it (if at all) or I can’t express it at all due to outside factors. At least not publicly. Blake would say to just get it out, but things are still percolating and I can’t. The other thing, and I said this to my shrink, is that I need to get out and experience more and get out of my comfort zone, which is also partially why I decided to go to the Courage My Love show. It’s also why Sunday happened.

So Sunday morning Blake and Wes went to swimming and when they came back, Wes paid me the money he owes me, which meant I had enough money to take Blake and myself out for breakfast at Cora’s. Cora’s is good because it’s not super expensive (under $30 with tip)  and I like their bacon because it’s the least fatty bacon that isn’t peameal that I’ve ever had. They don’t fuck up my eggs. I like their french bread type toast. And they also serve everything with fresh fruit art that I find that very appealing because apparently my hunger brain is 5 years old. Their chicken salad sandwich is pretty good too. I still think crepes are kinda gross.

After Cora’s we just came home and we started watching the movie Howl, which is about the obscenity trial surrounding Allen Ginsberg’s book of the same title. I thought it was great except for James Franco, who played Ginsberg. His overacting was terrible and they gave him too modern of a haircut for the role. I didn’t care about finishing it but Blake wanted to. While we watched the rest of the movie, I started making plans with our friend Steph (the Geek), who was in Toronto from California (but she’s Canadian – we’re all so very complicated) because of a Bitcoin conference, but things ended earlier than she expected on Sunday so there was time to meet up and hang out, something we hadn’t done since like…uh…Vegas, August of 2005. (Her wedding doesn’t count, I only got to talk to her for maybe 10 minutes total.)  We decided to go to Vapor Central, which is, if you hadn’t guessed, a vapor lounge in downtown Toronto that I’ve been wanting to go to for a long time and this was a good opportunity to do so because Blake doesn’t smoke weed and would be driving anyway (and I would feel weird vaping alone) and the city freaks me out. I figured a Sunday would probably be a mellow day to go, especially since we couldn’t get there until 6pm, and Steph said she was available then so it all just kinda fell into place. Also, I haven’t smoked weed with another human being since our anniversary party almost 2 years ago and never with Steph, who I figured would be a good Sunday stoner buddy (I was correct in that assumption).

So we get down to the city and we find a cheap municipal parking lot just down the street a few blocks from Vapor Central – score! And on our way down the street to Vapor Central, we passed what looked like a pretty decent pizza place that I took mental note of because – and I only realized this recently – I’m constantly in search of the world’s best slice of pizza. So far the pizza place (that I don’t know the name of) that we ordered from all the time in NY beats everything by a mile no contest, even Stouffville Pizza (that’s 2nd best) but I don’t live in NY so that’s not exactly an option for me. I’m straying from the story…

…we get to the vapor lounge and you go up these stairs because it’s on the 2nd floor of a building and we’re greeted by a wall of haze and the familiar smell of vapor which kinda smells like toasted nuts or maybe popcorn a little bit or maybe a little bit woody. It tastes exactly the way it smells (which is better than smoke). I know this because Blake bought me a personal vaporizer (Magic Flight Launch Box) for Xmas and it just didn’t do anything for me so I gave it to my friend after 3 or 4 days of correct usage with little to no result. Pretty much the entire reason we wanted to go to the vapor lounge was because they have Volcano vaporizers which are, as Steph said, “the Cadillac of vaporizers”. They’re $700 tabletop vaporizers that work by filling up a big plastic bag with cannabis vapor that you “sip” out of a special mouthpiece that allows the vapor to remain in the bag until you inhale it. The benefit to vaping is that you use WAY less weed and it’s a lot healthier because you’re not breathing smoke into your lungs. Since the personal vaporizer didn’t do anything for me, I always wondered if it was the vaporizer or me, like maybe I was immune to vaping. That’s why I wanted to try a Volcano because if a Volcano didn’t work for me, then no vaporizer would and I should just give up on the idea.

Vapor Central charges you a $5 membership day fee to get in and that gives you access to the lounge, which is full of couches and tables with a Volcano for each seating arrangement, and I think they’re supposed to charge us for the Volcano bags/mouthpiece/reservoir but they didn’t. They just made Blake give them his licence until he returned it all.

The girl who was at the desk when we first walked in was incapable of dealing with new customers because she was so completely adorably blitzed out of her mind so she sent someone else over to help us. She explained everything I said above (but also explained that there were bongs in the back that we were allowed to use, which surprised me and then I looked around and noticed that some people were smoking so I guess that’s okay there) and took our membership fees and then we went through a turnstile into the lounge. Everyone was mostly at the front of the space, where the couches are, watching a movie on the TVs that are around the room. In the back of the lounge, there are cafe-style tables so we grabbed one of those with 4 seats and waited for Steph.

Steph got there and the first order of business was to figure out how to use the Volcano on the table. Steph had only used one once so she didn’t know either, so Blake found a guy to show us how it’s done and it’s really very simple and off we went on the first bag.

It was good catching up with Steph. She’s gone through a lot of crazy shit in the last little while and I was relieved to find out that things are starting to look up. Also despite all the crap that’s been hurled at her by life in general she’s still the same Steph she’s always been and that was reassuring. Since I hadn’t seen her in so long I was worried that we wouldn’t have anything to talk about, which is so dumb because Steph is one of the most interesting people I know and she’s also one of the most extroverted introverts I know so catching up with her was like nothing, like no time had passed. Just easy conversation.

Over the course of an hour, Steph and I shared 5 or 6 Volcano bags worth of vapor, with me inhaling 3/4 of it and with pausing in between to talk and stuff and I would say that I got as medicated as I would have been with one of my bong’s bowls worth of weed except I used a little more than a thimble’s worth. I didn’t get stoned, that wasn’t the goal, but I got to a good place where I wasn’t freaked out to be in the city in a room full of strangers, I didn’t feel sick and I actually got hungry (thanks to this strain I’ve been using). So vaping obviously works on me and the Magic Flight Launch Box not working on me is simply that my tolerance is way too high for it. Even with the Volcano, I felt like staying medicated with it would be a full-time job. At the same time, I’m a person with a lot of free time and nowhere to be so if I vaped most of the time and only smoked joints or brought my bong with me places, I would use so much less weed so who cares?

At about 8pm, we walked down the street to that pizza place where I got a slice of (pretty decent but not the greatest but better than a chain – actually it could have been a city-wide chain, I have no idea)  pepperoni and a Diet Coke and that’s where we left Steph and headed toward the parking garage.

On the way home Blake and I were talking about the experience and now our interest is two-fold because he thinks it would be a good idea for us to hang out there for a day and use the Volcano as if I were at home using it, just to see how much a day’s worth of weed would be with one (I smoke 2.5g/day at the moment and I’d guess vaping would be 1/4 of that or less) and I want to hang out there again because I think I can write there. And Blake said maybe he could write there too. AND even with parking and gas and refreshments (a cold can of Diet Coke is $1), it cost us less than going to Fran’s or Froth and personally I liked the experience and atmosphere better. Plus I think you get in and out privileges with your daily $5 membership fee and there are a billion food places around the lounge that are better and cheaper  than here. There’s a falafel place pretty much right across the road. I’m not totally sure what a  falafel is but maybe I’d like one and maybe it’ll be my new favourite thing. WHO KNOWS? We’ll be in Toronto, the gastro-adventure and writing possibilities are limitless! And even if I don’t like falafel, maybe falafel is awful, at least there’s decent pizza down the street, which is more than I can say for our town, the next town over AND the town next to that.  This Sunday is 4/20 so it would be dumb to go then, but maybe the Sunday after that.

After we came home, I watched the first half of Game of Thrones but I accidentally took my sleeping pills when I took my meds after we left Steph so I couldn’t watch the 2nd half. Blake paused it to tuck me in (because yes he does that, every single night and every single morning if I go to sleep after work and he’s home) and I said something like, “yeah I doubt anything interesting’s going to happen in the 2nd half of the 2nd episode of the season…” and Blake, who has read the books, was like, “ummmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm” so I made him tell me what was going to happen to whom and how and I almost forced myself to get back up and watch the rest because HELLO, but I was too tired and figured it’d still be on the DVR in the morning. It was and it was so spectacularly gruesome that I was practically applauding by myself at 9am.

And then basically I sat down to write this post but the hydro went out in our whole town so not only did I not finish this post before Blake got home (it is currently 6:20pm), I didn’t get to see the premiere of Mad Men, but Blake’s making me macaroni and cheese for dinner and my plan is to watch while I eat. In other news, I got both books and pornstar money in the mail today so I guess you could say that the last 2 & a half days half been pretty great. Hopefully the rest of the week will be as well.

April 6, 2014

Rhymes With Orange

Can you believe that 20 years ago yesterday, Kurt Cobain killed himself? It won’t be until 2 days from now that the police would have found his body. I was 15. I’m listening to Nevermind very loudly this morning, the neighbours be damned, because Blake and the kids are at swimming so there’s nobody in the house to care. In Utero is actually my favourite Nirvana album but I’ve already been listening to the Nirvana tribute Milkin’ It (google! it’s amazing!) in the last little while, which is all of In Utero plus a few other b-sides so I’m a little In Utero‘d out.

So yesterday was potentially lifechanging. My whole life I thought I hated like, 99% of poetry. Basically if it wasn’t a haiku, I wasn’t interested and even those got tiresome eventually because they all blur together after a while. Until yesterday, with the exception of one poem I never even read, I just heard about, every poem I can think of ever hearing would fall under the “foofy” category. Or it was a greeting card. Or it was someone I know’s poetry and I had to be supportive but it was secretly really not any good. Or at least I didn’t think so.

See, something most people don’t seem to understand about me is that I basically have a grade 8 education. My grade 9 year – 20 years ago – was so messed up due to suicide attempts, crazy family drama that is more or less ancient history and 3 different schools, that I only (barely) earned 4 grade 9 credits (science, math, history, english). I got that math credit with a 51%. I think they passed me because they felt sorry for me. Then I got kicked out by November of grade 10 so any classes I had been taking, I never completed. I tried going back in grade 11 but I got kicked out again. In between, I did correspondence education through the government (I wonder if they still do that?) and I remember completing grade 9 art, grade 10 basic math and parenting. Correspondence was the slowest way ever to gain a credit, my god. I went to college as a “mature student”. All I really had to do was write an essay about how awesome at advertising I’d be and send a small portfolio of specs and then *boom* I was in ad school. But ad school’s not like “college” like…by the American definition.  Ad school was not University. Ad school was a 3 year program with only room for 1 or 2 electives per semester and I didn’t finish that either. The only electives I remember taking were a stress management class (holy bird class!) and a class on myths, but I know there had to be 1 or 2 others.

My point, and I have one I swear, is that poetry is not something I’ve ever really been exposed to. I was never taught poetry. To this day I’ve never read a poem by Shakespeare because reading Romeo and Juliet in grade 9 was torture enough. Anything not in plain english, I just get annoyed with. I have no time for foofy and “all poems are foofy”, said I, therefore I have actively avoided poetry like the plague for most of my life.

Until yesterday. Yesterday my brain split wide open and from within the seed of a spectacular flower begins to grow…yesterday I met Allen Ginsberg.

I have been so fucking wrecked since just before Christmas. Everything’s been grey, lumpy mush and I’m honestly a little surprised I made it out of this winter alive. I’m not sure it was totally the winter though, I think that was just the catalyst. Anyway, as I’ve been writing about, nothing had any meaning for me and the things I previously enjoyed doing, I just stopped enjoying and every day was (is?) just a series of wasted hours and minutes, staring at the internet, counting down the time between getting off of work in the morning and going to bed at night.

Blake keeps saying I’ve changed or that I’m changing and he’s suggested that I try changing willingly because it’ll be easier that way, and we’ve both decided that staying open to everything right now is probably the best way to go about things.

Enter Kill Your Darlings. We watched this Friday night and it’s the story of Lucien Carr murdering his ex-lover and the time surrounding that, meaning that the movie was basically about Ginsberg with a little William S. Burroughs. Harry Potter plays Ginsberg and I thought he did a really good job. I liked the Ginsberg in On the Road better, but that’s being nit-picky. At the end of the movie there’s an epilogue and it said that Allen Ginsberg published his first book, Howl and Other Poems, with a dedication to Lucien who in turn requested his name be taken out of future editions. I thought that was interesting. I thought the movie was just kinda “meh”, but it did get my brainmeats jiggling and by yesterday morning I was convinced that Allen Ginsberg was my salvation and I think I may be right.

First we went to the library to get a copy of Howl because I am poor as fuck and if I don’t have to buy something I’m not sure I’ll like, I’d prefer not to. The library did not have a copy. THE LIBRARY. DID NOT. HAVE A COPY. This shocked me, but it’s Elmvale so I’m not sure why. Next the plan was hatched to drive to Chapters in Barrie and buy a copy because I checked online and there was a pocket edition that was only $10. So that’s what we did. I also picked up a Charles Bukowski poetry book that I’d tell you the name of if it wasn’t all the way across the room and completely unimportant at this very moment. I didn’t even know he was a poet and I know absolutely nothing about him. I just know that I see a lot of quotes by him, often quoted by famous people I like, and I usually like them so I figured I’d give him a shot too. It took us at least 20 minutes to even find the “arts and letters” section of the store which comprised their entire poetry catalogue and was only one small, waist-high shelf unit. That shocked me too. They had a million copies of Dante’s Inferno and Carroll’s Jabberwocky. I’ve never read either but probably wouldn’t because long boring poems are long.

After Chapters, we went to a breakfast place called Cora’s that was actually pretty awesome and I wish we could go back today but like I said, I’m broke, and during breakfast, Blake told me stuff about poetry. He has an English degree but specialized or whatever in 18th century sumpin sumpin so while he’s read a lot of poetry, he hasn’t read a lot of contemporary poetry which is all I’m interested in because old timey poetry is foofy and boring unless someone proves otherwise with zero cost to myself.

When we got home from breakfast, we talked about poetry some more and I read the title poem in Howl, which was the first one. I cried when I realized that poetry is like art art, that it’s as wide open as that, both because I was inspired and because I was scared by the idea of infinity. The lens by which I view the world cracked and went from slighty fuzzy big picture to macro kaleidoscopic, like a switch had been flipped and the lights came on behind my eyes and it’s GOOD but I am so so scared that it’ll just be a fleeting thing so I’m going to spend my Amazon gift certificate on more Ginsberg and ask you guys, if you know anything about non-foofy contemporary poetry, what else I should add to my wishlist or find at the library. I think my only real criteria is no eroticaZzzzzzzZZZzzzzzZZzzzz. Or just tell me what you know about poetry! Thanks!

Blake is home so I’m going to go participate in the day.

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