Moving On

This is my last pre-move entry. Yesterday a lot got accomplished. The kitchen is pretty much set up and, with the help of J and our friend T, some massive gorilla gardening was done outside and voila...looks like someone lives there! The back yard here (old place) looks sad...dug up...empty. Hope the new tenant values it...won't take much to make it pretty again. So today can be a bit more relaxed. Just a couple more loads via boxes left and then we have the truck for tomorrow's larger furniture bits (still can't get over that I actually own larger furniture bits...it was bad enough realizing some years ago that I had too many knick knacks to cart along with me wherever I went. I used to think that I could pick up and move at any time. Any time, that is, until I realized that my accumlation of things had grown and, not only that, but I wouldn't feel right leaving these 'things' in storage ... I wanted them with me ... now I have actual furniture...stuff not previously found on the side of the road. Things change). Hopefully out internet will get set up without a catch and I'll be back on line on Tuesday. Until then ...

Packing Packing Packing

Packing, packing, packing. The life of my wee family is being packed away into little boxes. Basically it adds up to 6 years of cumulated crap. I'm surprised that not more is being thrown out. Maybe we'll throw more out at the new place. I have a sneaky suspician, however, that this may not be the case. Our new place is significantly larger. With a basement. A large basement. There is plenty of room to store those unimportant but, 'don't you think we'd better hang on to it just in case?', things. Well, i've had enough of a break. J's been tackling the back room since early this morning. I slept in. Well, I am on vacation.

Knick Knack Paddy Whack

I've spent some hours today packing. I like packing. I'm not really sifting too much however. I'll leave that for later. Basically, I'm just putting stuff into boxes without much thought...cramming stuff in...trying to make it fit. I have a lot of little stuff (this may not be grammatically correct but, those who know me will know what I mean and probably agree with the assessment). Went to see the new place today. I've kept changing my mind as to whether or not I liked it. I signed the lease close to 2 months ago...I couldn't remember what it looked like. I do like it. It's much larger than what I am used to (a good thing considering the size of the family--2 big people, 2 little people and 2 cats). J mentioned that he would like another kid. Well, actually, he said 'yup...I decided that I think that maybe well we should perhaps have another kid.' I told him that I was fertile tonight. He had to go to work...Styx & Saga. I can't get into Gowan as the frontman for Styx. J phoned me during 'criminal mind' ... sounded loud and fuzzy over the cell phone. Darn audio engineers. I called my mom tonight. Just to say hello. No...not really. It's never about hello with her. Can't really put my finger on it though. She had sent J & I an anniversary card. It is cute. Very nice gesture. I thanked her for it. She responded by saying that she had asked the people standing around in the card shop to read it...then told them it was for her daughter (knowing chuckles all around) and then told me that this card was a 'keeper.' Why does she do this? I keep knick knacks. I keep a wide assortment of 'odd' things for various sentimental/unsentimental/remembrance like reasons. But, I decide what I keep. Now, it's not like I would toss the card. I keep cards as a rule. Now I feel obliged to keep the card. It no longer stands alone as a memory of a gesture. Grrrrr. I know...get over it. But, it's not like this is the first time. I wonder if it's that she knows I collect things and wants to know for sure that the things she gives me warrant collection? Ahhh...wouldn't it be great to read and know the minds of the insecure? Instead of being the mature one, however, I don't tell her 'of course I'll keep it...I'll treasure it always' or even 'you know that I love you ... card or no card' , I say instead 'mmmmm...so how has your day been?' Effectively changing direction of the conversation. Yup. I'm chicken too. Sometimes, I just get a bit too overwhelmed with trying to figure out how people tick (myself included). As part of their daycare, the kids are selling lemonade on the street tomorrow. I'm looking forward to walking there and imbibing. Apparently, the kids have made it on their own. They are proud. They are growing. Fast. Maybe, perhaps, it might be a good idea if, well ...

Vacation on a Dude Ranch?

Ok...a couple things. First and foremost -- I am now, officially, on vacation! I will not be at the office until Aug. 19 (coming in for the weekend body builders...how could I miss that?) Today will be spent packing...an impending household move is coming...Aug. 1st!! Yikes. That's also my wedding anniversary. Typical. Hopefully everything will go smoothly...I'm trying to think of all the people/institutions that must be called regarding the address change. I'm sure I'll miss some...but, I'm equally sure that those I miss will be able to hunt me down like a scurvy dog. I always seem to leave a trail. My supervisor took me out for lunch yesterday. It was nice. Conversation flowed...and we both eavesdropped on the table behind us...man in suit with younger woman...they were going through her job/performance evaluation. Seems that people are attempting to follow proper 'management' guidelines but, are missing something that forms and calculations can't replace...actual communcation. The fellow actually said 'well, it says on this form that I am supposed to ask you how you feel about your job.' Seriously, corona almost jet out my nose. Cb and I, on the other hand, have a pretty darn good working relationship. We respect each others' ideas, space and failings. Plus...we were able to split a piece of chocolate cheese cake (I ate the larger portion...free food...never say no).

Now, as I am home free without a work day care, I applied the 'gender genie' (http://www.bookblog.net/gender/genie.html) to my post Afternoon Delight (http://rosco324.blogspot.com/2005/07/afternoon-delight.html). (I know there is a better way to show links...the elegance is lost on me at the moment). Hmmm....seems that it was written by a male. Big time. When I informed the genie that it was wrong it replied 'That's one butch chick' ... It causes me to wonder what form the gender genie considers 'female?' I reread Afternoon Delight...it sounds female to me. Maybe it's me. Maybe I am not female enough. Hmmm...but...I have stretch marks from childbirth...my breasts are a bit saggy but still there, I menstruate once a month...physically I'm female. Maybe it's a mental thing? Oh dear. Perhaps I should seek out professional help? Maybe, instead of going away for my vacation, I'll just allow my maleness to come out ... be a dude for awhile. It's not that I totally believe the computer guru but...it's hard not to wonder if there may be some divine truth in what it spews out. I mean...algorithms...how can one argue against science and math? Puhhhhllease. Interesting that there are those who feel that this form of 'science' can tell us anything more than illustrate our obession with labelling and cataloguing difference based on binary code. 1 or 0...Black or White...Chick or Dude. Yet...the gender genie does allow for grey doesn't it. It did suggest that I was a 'butch chick.' Hmmm...could the binary be breaking down? Maybe there is hope...even the computer program admits that there are additional categories out there. Hmmm...I'd be interested to know what happens to a male writer who gets a female rating...will he be called a femme? Oh dear...I sense another binary on the way. Calgon...take me away.

Female Score: 833Male Score: 800
The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: female!
Guess I'll stay away from the ranch for a bit.

The Good, The Bad and the Ugly (and the really cute)

Meet A...a bit dated but, can't get much sweeter!




This is a picture of S ... kinda wanted to see if I could add pics. Everyone else on the block is trying it... Hmmm...shouldn't this have been more difficult? What am I missing? S, as you can see, is missing teeth. No...not naturally...unless you count falling down stoop steps and slamming mouth into metal kick guard a natural childhood progression...I'm sure the jury will be out for awhile.

Contemplated yet another night sans blog but, as I was waiting for J to finish his shower whilst I sat sipping tea on the front stoop watching a local prostitute (a new one tonight...young...strung out...possibly pregnant) tour the street with that ungainly, pushy yet vulnerable night time strut, I thought that I should break the silence. I know me...if I can get away with putting something off for a short while, I can extend the silence indefinitely.

So...what's new? My supervisor has returned from his vacation. Got to show him the good, the bad and the ugly. Clean carp shop good. Rental of bin without knowing how much I spent on it? bad. Fixed risers? Good. Having to drive around searching for wood delivered to the wrong spot? Ugly. Clean sink room good. My staff forgetting to lock sound room door last night? bad. Clean lights, good. Ripped DMX line...ugly...staff trying to hide it from me with electrical tape...uglier. Clean booth? Good. Pink wall...ugly....Ok...so I told the tech to paint the wall pink. He chose to actually listen to me. He mixed the colour. It's the most unpink pink I've ever seen. Not flowery...not froofroo...more like pepto bismal. New sound patch...very good. Monitor falling on $25 000 sound board (bending 3 knobs) ... bad and ugly. Overall, the tour went well. Inspection was passed. Ended up getting a lot done while he was away...funny that. Now, all I have to do is get through Wednesday...then it's vacation!! Yippie. I'm getting quite tired of the place/space.

Up Down Up Down Up

Ahhh...the T&T event went very well. Put in an 11 hour day with only one break for a coffee...am not hungry...feel really good actually. Nice people...wonderful musicians...good all around. I went home to make up some salads...potato, macaroni and a new rice one* ...for tomorrow. I'm having a barbecue for the people I work with. They are a great crew. Hope most of them can make it. My moods have been all over the place. I am up then down...quick to anger then quick to calm down. Maybe the lack of food could have something to do with it? 3 more work days until vacation. I'm really looking forward to it. We're moving on August 1st and then, hopefully, going camping on the 4th. I am really craving solid family time...no distractions.

* example of weird moods/temper is linked to the rice salad. J had asked his mom, sister and nephew over for dinner tonight...I wouldn't be there but, he said he could handle it. He put chicken on the grill and rice on the coleman stove at his side. When his family arrived, they stayed in the house. He poked his head in and they asked 'what's for dinner?' He said chicken. To him, they didn't seem impressed. He took out some money and sent his sister out to pick up hamburgers and a salad. When I got home and he told me this I freaked. I couldn't believe that he had made up 10 pieces of yummy chicken and an entire pot of rice that was ignored. He told me not to but I did anyway. I called his mother. Her first response was 'I'll pay for the chicken.' Hmmm...so not the point but telling no? I told her that my largest concern was that there was a huge lack of communication going on (apparently they didn't know that the chicken was for them? even though J told them that it was? I get confused)...I really don't think I accomplished much from calling...overreaction on my part...but I was really pissed off...but then...the pissy mood subsided...I went on line and searched for rice/salad recipes ... found one that uses dijon, parsley, peanuts and curry...turned out really yummy.

I think I need some quality sleep. Not too humid tonight. Get ready for tomorrow. It's been a really really long week. I wonder if I have enough money kicking around to get a bottle of gin? I think an afternoon of G&T's is in order.

Understanding Towels 101

Ok...is it really so complicated? Bath towels are the large terri cloth towels...folded in thirds then either in thirds again or rolled to fit neatly in the basket. If the towel if very large, it should first be folded in half, then in thirds. Body towels tend to be the largest. Hair towels tend to be slightly smaller. Hand towels are, yet again, smaller versions of bath towels (also terri cloth) and are to be folded in thirds then folded again. Hand towels are used for drying hands and faces in the bathroom...not the kitchen and, only after these hands and faces have been washed. With me so far? Ok, then come washcloths...these too are terri cloth and are rolled to fit in smaller basket. They are used to wash body parts...not floors, walls, buckets, mirrors or windows....just body parts. Now we are ready to move away from the washroom to the kitchen. Here it gets a bit more involved...but not that much. The dish cloths are folded in half then in thirds. These are either linen, cotton, or hand crocheted. These need to be changed every day as they tend to sour. Dish clothes are to be used for washing dishes and wiping counters and table tops. Sometimes, if some food or drink substance has spilled on the floor, the dish cloth may be used to clean it...but...if this is done, the cloth should be rinsed immediately afterwards. If the dish cloth was used to wipe up a milk product, then the cloth should be set aside to dry and then be replaced.
The dish towels are folded in exactly the same way as the hand towels but, these are linen or cotten blends and will lie more flat. These are used to dry dishes. In homes such as ours, these tend not be used unless company arrives. For the most part, we tend to let our dishes air dry on the rack. These towels may also be made slightly damp and used to wrap up bread to heat it up in the oven. The bread won't dry out and will come out like it was freshly baked. In the kitchen there are also hand towels. These tend not be be made of terri cloth like their bathroom cousins. Instead, they are usually a cotton-blend. These are used to dry one's hands, usually after one has done the dishes. Please note that under no circumstances should these be used for any other purpose (ie. to wipe up messes) except, on occasion, as an additional pot holder. The tricky part occurs when a dish cloth or a wash cloth starts getting old. When they pass their prime, they move over into the rag pile. These are generally folded in half and then in half again. Rags are used for dusting, washing floors and walls, cleaning the car...pretty much anything except for dishes and bodies. There is, however, a grace period wherein for one week it may be a rag and then for another it may creep back into the dish/wash cloth pile. Please note, however, that there is, ultimately, no turning back. Once a cloth begins to deteriorate, its fate is sealed. The rag is the last step...it may last quite along time like this but, eventually, like all things, it will begin to decay and become nothing more than scraps of landfill.
This wasn't so hard to follow was it? Oh...one other thing. If, when seated for dinner, one of your children knocks over a glass of milk and it begins to cascade over the edge of the table splashing on to the floor below, none of the above rules will apply. Grab anything aborbant and wipe it up...you can always sort out the towel mess later.

Public Spaces

When I returned home from work yesterday, I walked into laundry in piles all over the dining room, the cats pouncing on me as a food source, breakfast dishes piled in sink, no food taken out of the freezer to thaw for dinner, cat piss and shit piled in the litter boxes and...no sign of J. I tried his cell. No response. I tried again. And again. I knew what he was doing. You see I had actually talked to him in the afternoon and he said that he was over at 'Bruce's.' This only meant one thing. He was enjoying a mid summer, mid afternoon piss up. So be it. But, it was getting close to the time to pick up the kids and, there was quite a lot of house work to be done and there was dinner that needed to be created. Back in the pre kids days, dinner could be skipped on any day...not now. So, I left a message on his cell. 'Are you going to pick up the kids?' He responded with a text message ... 'no.' I lost it.

The funny thing about cell phones, pagers and the like is that although they appear to bring people closer and more in touch, they seem to have the opposite effect. When one is separated from another without any technological aids, it is accepted that one will have to wait in order to have contact. With these 'aids' however, waiting is more painful. The one being called can turn off the phone...refuse to answer...create a real or imagined snub. It drives me crazy. If the phone is answered, it is much easier to lie to the person on the other side...trust and truth become warped concepts...

Anyway, I finally got in touch with him. He said he'd meet me at the daycare. I saw him on the road. He was doing his best to walk straight and be friendly. Perhaps I should have been more accepting? I couldn't. I asked him to wait outside. I tried my best to not cry. We finally got home and the bitching began. Thing is, I know I've been bitchy lately. The difference between me and J when he has been drinking is that he is mean. Mean people suck. (I still want that bumper sticker). I made a decision...spend an evening of tension hell with a smelly inebriated man in a small humid apartment or, bugger off. I called his mom and told her that her son was drunk and the kids and I would be coming over for dinner. So, very much like scenes from the movies...I got the kids in the car and we went to 'mother's' (in law).

Now please note that I do not want this to read like a J - slam. I love him. He does stupid and hurtful things at times...but, overall, he tries. He is a great father, compassionate guy and my best friend. This whole scene, however, got me thinking about public and private spaces. I find it funny that in a society/culture where borders and boundaries are (supposedly) being stretched, taboos are broken, and everything 'seems to go' once again, like with cell phones, the opposite seems to be true. Perceived 'freedoms' are ultimately illusions that create distance ... or...am I wrong to think that freedom/equality can't happen unless issues are faced head on? Discussed, examined, shouted and cried and laughed over? Silence is only golden for the status quo.

When I arrived at J's mom's, I provided a brief outline of events to his sister...she nodded with a 'well, he was stupid,' and we both shrugged. His mom brought out beer for the three of us. (can't beat 'em may as well join 'em?) I did my best to ignore the bottle and ended up not drinking it. I just wanted all my wits with me...plus...I didn't want to lose it in front of the kids. There's a whole lot of undertones cruising around at his mom's but, suffice it to say (for now) that we ate, kids had fun, and we all returned home unscathed. J had been crashed on the couch. He woke in time to help tuck the kids into bed. Then we snapped at each other again (I mentioned something along the lines that I would be better off with him gone) and he took off for 'Bruce's.' I spent the evening packing. 'Idle hands make ?????'

Please note that undertones is an understatement but, having a brief acquaintance with other families and a deeper knowledge of my own, the weird dynamics and basic fucked uppedness of families is not something I have the time nor patience to get into here.

Ok, I tried to call J around 11...and then 11:30 ... can't help it...have I mentioned that cell phones drive me crazy? J finally answered...he would be home 'soon.' He actually made it home before midnight and I met him on the front porch (quick side line here...J quit smoking about a week ago...and even through all of this stupidity...he didn't light up...hurray!) J proceeded to tell me that I had pissed him off greatly...by calling his mom...telling her that he was drunk...taking the kids and that if I ever dared do anything like that again, he'd be gone. Just after that, our upstairs neighbour came home...he and J started talking. Interesting, I thought. Both know that I'm here...both know that I'm upset...both are avoiding any dialogue with me at all costs. J even mentioned how I would bring the car home for him the next day so he and the neighbour could go biking?!

Ok...for me this was verrrryyyy interesting. First, that J was most upset, not at my telling him that I was better off without him and other shit to the same e/affect...but...that I had told someone from the outside of our 'sphere.' He even told me that what happened at home should stay at home--maybe if we lived in Vegas but...sheesh. I had 'gone public' with what had happened. Worse yet? I had gone public with his mom. Interesting still was that his mom did her best to avoid the topic. Her only comments were a) in the action of providing a beer; and b) saying 'it was good for you to be here, even though the circumstances that brought you here may not have been' as we were packing up to go. Then there is our neighbour. I realize that there is an unspoken rule out there that people are not to get involved with each other...It's fascinating and scary at the same time. I wonder if he would have spoken up if I had had a bruise forming on my cheek or if blood had been slowly dripping from my nose...as weird as it sounds...to me at least...I doubt that he would have done anything. We watch t.v. and movies and witness violence and sexual innuendo ...so called 'adult situations' yet...the real adult situations are avoided on a daily basis. The private sphere...the adult world remains, for the most part 'untouchable.' We watch through lens after lens...much like an Agoyan film...and are pushed further and further from each other....voyeurs to our own selves.

I told J that I would be writing about this...he is ok with it ... I guess...maybe he's just saying that out of...???? In any case, I am glad that I can write this. (although last night, he went on the computer and stayed on quite late...then turned off the machine so as to not have me write last night...it was good for me to think about things with a bit more time behind me). I wonder if through the writing of this private/public blog in this private/public sphere that perhaps another crack may begin to form in the wall separating the two. Who knows? I'm just glad to get this off my chest.

Too Hot to ...

Hmmm...what did I do today? Well, the day started off with the cats meowing at my head, drooling on my pillow and being otherwise quite obnoxious. They wanted to get fed. I wanted to sleep. No detente (sp?) in sight. The alarm went off and J rolled over and began rubbing my bum. Usually a nice way to awaken but...check the forecast. It's hot. It's humid. Don't touch me. I got up and went to wake the kids. They too have that 'it's hot...go away' attitude. I bribe them with chocolate milk (for A) and fresh blueberries (S) ... they get dressed and are then plopped in front of the tele to watch Arthur while I get myself organized. Dressed and caffeinated I get the kids to brush their teeth, don some shoes and get outta the door. Into the car we then drive to daycare. Kids get dropped off. I chat a bit with other parents 'it's hot...it's Monday...it's routine' and then get back in jeep and head to work.
Work. Glorious place of air conditioning. Actually, it's really an air chiller so the humidity remains but...it's a damn cool humidity. Crew arrives after I deal with one staffer calling in with a bad back and the T&T High Commission wanting, 'if not a map...how 'bout a flag' after being informed that I may not be able to provide any image. sigh.
Sound crew goes to tear apart the booth (which is now pink...hey...they listened when I suggested the colour...no coercion involved). Another fellow (master carp) goes down to the basement to make big wood small.
Many phone calls...some internet dicking around...more phone calls...figured out a way to get the T&T the image they want...will only cost them $100...they go for it...wonder if sound techs realize that their patch bay idea will require an in and an out for each channel inorder for the compressors to work the way they want...received mail...dealt with unsatisfied tech who worked a weekend shift...knows himself to have sugar problems but blames me for his not having brought food??? I really don't know sometimes. Got through the day...only managed to spend around $500 on the company dime...supervisor may have a problem when he returns from vacation but he's the one who told me before he left that 'it's better to beg forgiveness than ask permission' ... so...i'm not asking.
Went to drugstore on way home...got condoms (in case weather breaks...isn't going to...box will remain sealed until further notice), sunscreen for kids and J (me too if I remember...I know), fruit flavoured water, foot bath stuff (my feet deserve a break today)...went home...J was in backyard with barbecue started ... bitched at J ... left kids in yard with him and went inside to clean cat box and do the breakfast dishes. J made dinner outside (not using oven is good thing)....really yummy dinner ... after which I did the dishes, cleaned up and J ran the bath for the kids (poor person's pool). I took the garbage out. J told me he was planning on going climbing. His bike is in the shop today. J is on a health/atheltic kick. More on this later I'm sure. I asked that he not just assume that I have no life of my own. He asked what I was going to do. I told him that I was going to take his sister out. I did.
Went and kidnapped her. Had a nice time...a couple pints...an iced coffee...she's going back to beijing on Sunday... Now I'm writing this as I prepare to jump in shower, pamper my feet and crash...tomorrow is another day. In my immediate future I see:
a) heat
b) questions from T & T
c) spending more company money
d) more dishes
e) more bitching
f) no sex

No Apology Necessary

he she I one you me we they them her him
these are the characters. the selves. most will play multiple roles.
the I who I am on the other side of the text is tired
hot
anxious
trepidatious
nervous
in need of release.
wanting a rest
... ... ... ...
nope...nothing tonight. no pathways are presenting themselves.
want to look into art vs. deadline ... I hope that whichever is pursued is enjoyed more than disdained...that the choice made is correct ... are there really incorrect choices? another view to examine... later...
GF once told me that she writes in order to have something to read...can you tell that she isn't Canadian born? Humility takes a backseat. No apology necessary. Do you all re read your posts? Enjoy them? Wonder at them? Think about editing them but then stop cuz they exist on their own now -- separate little entities? Not quite separate...more like extensions. This, however, is leading down another path...a path that will no doubt keep me from a quiet rest.
Adieu. Goodnight.

Mirror Mirror On the Wall

I know what you are up to. If you thought you were going to get away with it, you wouldn't have left such a clearly laid out path. Yes, I realize that you were leaving hints specifically for me to follow; what I knew to be clues, others have taken to be merely decorative. You also know, however, that I am unlike the rest. Some may call me paranoid. Others might say delusional. I embrace this...my...particular form of crazy. I thank you for my ability to distinguish it from myself. You turned me. Slowly. Allowing the light to hit me at odd angles. Exposing multifaceted images that reflect and refract...conjure and conjoin. Did you know that I swallowed some? Light? I kept that from you. It's hidden inside. Deep. Untouchable. Untouched. See? Yes, I know. You can't see in the dark. You don't know where to look. But, that's ok. You can trust me. As much as I you. Did you just shiver? Fear? Anticipation? Both? Let me look at you. See you as you are. I already do. You know that. I want your consent. It's not the same if you struggle. It's not giving up. It's letting go. Release. Trust. It might hurt but, shouldn't destroy. When was the first time you allowed yourself to be held? When was the last time? These are things that though rarely mentioned, are never forgotten. Did you know that I had changed? That I am ready? Let me take over. Let me show you what I see.

Inspiration

Image:

My daughter cries out in her sleep. I roll over. Hoping. Hoping that this will pass. Hoping that I can get away with avoiding this responsibility. Hoping that I am the one having the bad dream.

Next:

My daughter comes up to me and asks that I tie a ribbon around her head...covering her eyes. I ask 'Why do you want this?' She responds, 'Because I do.' Blindfolded she then walks around the apartment...slowly...cautiously curious...seeing the world through her fingertips.

Guilt:

I am the one crying. My daughter comes up to me and gives me a hug. I am torn. Torn between the feeling that I should straighten up, wipe my eyes and bring her into my arms and the urge to crumple under her embrace ... allowing myself to surrender to her ... be protected by her ... let her be the mommy for awhile.

Sorrow:

I remember back. I had a balloon. Given to me by a clown. At a parade. I got out of the car. The balloon was released. I started to cry. I saw my mother's face. I knew that if there was any way she could get that balloon back, she would have done it. She, like me, was helpless. My sadness there because of what I lost. Her sadness there because of what she never had.

Adventure:

My daughter is a part of me. My daughter is her own self. I see bits and pieces of myself within her. I also see a stranger. She moves through life with a determination that I feel I was only able to feign.

Love:

My daughter asked me to dance today.

Afternoon Delight

She felt giddy...and guilty. Surprisingly in control...understandably unstable. She tried out his name. Not out loud. Not yet. She needed to experience how her tongue moved around the letters... in sequence...rearranged. She wasn't really interested in him. Not in that way. How could she be? She was already 'taken' (many times before but, this time seemed real enough). She wasn't about to throw it all away.

I wonder sometimes at the differences between the 'intellectual' and the 'intellectual.' Each are as they are named but are different. One seems hell bent on creating an insular space which has as its purpose to protect a status quo. As if any challenges made were challenges of a personal nature...to be challenged is to have the self challenged...leading, ultimately, to a destruction of self. Scary.

There was nothing wrong with a bit of fantasy play though was there? Her heart began to beat just a little bit faster. She was ready. She had to say his name out loud. She could not hold it in any longer. Her partner stood in front of her. Had they been talking? Yes. About what? Damn...he's looking at her, waiting for her to respond. Does he notice?

The other seems to relish teasing open cracks and fissures...peeling layers...picking at scabs...looking under rocks...putting their hands in places where their mothers told them not to. Never satistfied with what is there...needing to poke and hunt a bit further. Looking in shadows. Seeing what exists in between. In a constant state of challenge, the space they inhabit changes form...grows and shrinks...just as they do themselves.

'So I saw David this morning...at Second Cup.' There. She said it. The name. Wasn't it glorious? She felt a rush of blood rise to her cheeks. Her stomach was fluttering. He didn't seem to notice. She got away with it. Could she dare say it again without raising any suspicion? 'David was on his way to an appointment.' That was safe...people have appointments...get appointed to this and that all the time. She felt that she was going to explode.

Problems seem to arise when no differences are made between intellectuals. Put them all into the same boat and it will sink for sure. The ivory tower is off-white. Do forced marriages ever work? Not, I think, unless there is an understanding from both sides that what is lacking must be obtained...with explicit or implicit consent. Consenting adults. Working to analyze, restructure, study, examine, defend, offend, challenge, create, improve, reprove, polish , ... , ... , ... , ...

And now? The name still holds a certain amount of power. Although it no longer has such a fierce impact upon her. At times, she will whisper the name inside her head and smile at how it continues to echo inside of her. It's all academic really.

Female Score: 406Male Score: 813
The Gender Genie thinks the author of this passage is: male!

Coffee, Coconut Oil, Pancakes, Teddy Bears and A Dinner for Two

Amazing how a cup of french roast and a couple of advil can make the pain of a headache a distant memory. Yes, I'm mixing my drugs today. This morning began early...too early. Had to be at work at 7am to oversee the set up of the bodybuilder competition. Got some swag (some carmel corn for the health conscious, a t-shirt, cup and a protein bar that, I swear but weight alone is a good replacement for 2 x's t-bone steaks). It's a very interesting group of people. A bit nuts to my mind but, then again, everyone seems to have his/her own particular form of crazy. I witnessed a coach gluing the bikini on to an athelete's skin, I witnessed other's oiling each other down. My office area reeks of coconut tanning oil. One athelete actually turned to me and asked why we insisted upon using this 'shit hole' -- he was referring to my very lovely theatre. I informed him that this 'shit hole' was the place I worked, the place I played and the place I loved. His response...'oh...ok then.' Thing is, I understand his point. He has a disability wherein using stairs is a huge pain (literal and figurative) and from the audience, the only way to access a washroom is to use stairs. He was getting frustrated and, well I was in the theatre before 7am without having adequate sleep or coffee working on a show that has really no artistic merit whatsoever. It's a money maker and it's times like this that my precious theatre gets treated like a cheap bordello and I'm its madame. I'm actually thinking of changing my title from technical director to that of hostess. I wonder if that would get me a pay raise?

When I got home, Jeff had made blueberry pancakes!!!!!!! (This is a little something that happens after a fight...for those who are interested...we haven't really made up yet but, we are no longer really on the outs either...kinda in limbo...won't complain cuz I got a good breakfast). Afterwards, we took the kids to the teddy bear's picnic on the grounds of Rideau Hall. Sierra was/is in a mood today so nothing's really any fun. Aryn on the other hand had a blast ... got his flower fixed up by a doctor (this picnic is in aid of the local childrens' hospital so the organizers arrange for a B.A.S.H. tent be set up complete with triage units and surgeons in attendence). Aryn then sat in the front seat of a fire truck, went in the back of an army medi-vac, had a burger, pet a couple goats, chatted up a fellow in a bear suit (kept asking the poor dude who he was in there...Aryn wasn't buying that it was a bear) Sierra cheered up with a Spongebog Squarepants popsicle (personally can't stand the character but, both kids love it!)

We all came home and then Aryn and Jeff took off to do some errands. Sierra and I have been hanging. She has decided (30s ago) to start crying and is insisting that nothing is wrong. Poor thing. ... I shall return to this. Ok...Jeff and Aryn are back...Jeff got himself some more climbing/map/backpack stuff. Sierra and I discussed things...seems she's just having a bad day. We all have 'em. Unavoidable. They suck.

Ok...Jeff just told me that he and I can go out for dinner. A sitter has been arranged. We get to stay out until 9pm--almost past my bedtime! Jeff and I are sparring...wonder when the need to needle each other will go away for a while. Or is it foreplay?

I think I need another cup of coffee.

What if?

I'm enjoying an interesting lunch treat. I had made spinach pie a couple days ago and brought some to work. I had to take a chance as I'm never sure how long its fridge life is. I did not have any food containers the right size so I just put a couple pieces into a yogurt container. A couple minutes ago I just microwaved it. I then dumped it on to a plate. The two pieces of pie fused together so I ended up with a round ball of crust with yummy spinach and cheese on the inside. YAY -- my headache that has been bugging me all morning has now disappeared...seems it had something to do with hunger...funny that. The boys are setting up for the body builders upstairs. I'm glad that C finally began to charge for the set up. It takes a crew of 4 around 5 to 6 hours to do. No one thing is very difficult but, there are a lot of small details to take care of. Representatives from the High Commission of Trinidad & Tobago will be dropping by this afternoon. They want to check out the space again and see if they can get any leeway in terms of catering. This institution has developed a zero tolerance policy with regard to outside food sources. Liability. Insurance. Silliness really...everyone seems to be in a perpetual state of what if. What if someone gets food poisoning, what if someone slips, what if a wrench were to fall on someones head (ok...this one would hurt), what if someone cries or is made to feel bad about themselves, what if hearts get broken? Where is the risk? While it seems that we are all about lessoning and even eliminating risk, its abandonment is creating a very boring and staid world. If we end up taking a risk and losing, is our first thought really to see who we can blame for it? What happened to taking chances? Trying something new? Taking personal responsibility for one's own actions? Would it really be so bad to allow the high commission to bring in and serve a few tasty tidbits from the caribbean? Seems it would be. I'm glad I took a chance on my spinach pie this morning. My tummy is full and my headache is gone.

Making Up

Jeff and I are fighting. Well, he's actually at work. I'm at home thinking about getting ready to go into work. I'm also trying to figure out exactly why we're on the outs. We'll see each other again after 8pm tonight. Then we'll probably make up or, depending on our mutual moods we might wait until the weekend. Thing is, no matter how much we piss each other off, seems that there will always be a make up in the future. I like our make ups. They start off very slow. Tentative. And then, suddenly, when we both realize how much of a dumb, insensitive jerk he's been (ok...sometimes I have a bit to do with it too) we'll rush together in a slobbery mess. A few more jabs (partly in jest and partly to say 'ya, but it really hurt...don't forget it 'k?') and then we can carry on. Last night I was upset and my son asked if daddy had hurt me. I said that he had hurt my feelings so Aryn told me that he would jump on daddy's head. I had to laugh.
Woke up this morning to more visions of terror on the radio and tv. Wonder what it will take for the world to make up with itself?

Cycling

So I had a committee meeting today over the lunch hour. Lunch was free and quite tasty. Not ever being one to shy away from a free meal I dove right in. Now, in this particular committee, the other members are women ranging in age from mid 30's to mid 60's. Each one, without fail, commented upon her weight with things like...how she really shouldn't have any carbs...that potato salad was yummy but deadly and, my personal favourite, 'oh...that one and 1/4 sandwiches has done me in.' Yikes. Now I'm not thin and I too have had my own battles with the bulge (ok...still do) but, it seems a little strange to be talking about how one shouldn't eat while lunch is being served. I have a young daughter and, I'll be damned if she has to feel guilty about enjoying a yummy meal. It's a really hard cycle to break...this was brought home to me again when watching my own mother fuss in front of the mirror after we decided to 'dress up' for dinner...stating that she should really have worn smaller underwear so that her belly wouldn't show as much. A grandmother can't even be happy the way she is. I really hope that I will be able to look into future mirrors and appreciate what's there. Guess I should start doing that sort of thing now eh?

Another odd committee thing is that for the past couple meetings, I have been disagreeing with the group on a number of issues. This week, those same issues came out and I found that people were agreeing with what I had said. At first, I was flattered, until I figured out that no reference to my ever having had any opinion on these issues was made. My ideas were being argued from out of other people's mouths. This is what the writer must feel when touring the movie set while her work is being (re)worked. Very weird feeling. Voyeuristic. Strange being both manipulator and manipulated. I'm now interested in seeing if this type of thing will happen again. It's become very tempting to argue things for the sake of mental masturbation...with no real attachment to the issues at hand...and see how many can be made to come on side. Kinda like that scientology hubbert? fellow. You know, the ex-science fiction writer who, at one book signing mentioned out loud that the best way to become rich was to start one's own religion...several years later, voila.

Is it even possible anymore for people to think for themselves?

Drillin Pipe and Pipe'n Up

Ok...so I have 2 x's 20' sections of schedule 160 pipe and one 4' cold roll solid bar to act as a splice between the 2. Now I have to drill 4 x's 3/8" holes through the pipe and splice 8" and 16" away from each end of the splice. Sigh. I don't want to drill pipe. My crew doesn't really want to drill pipe. This is going to take too long. Sched. 160 is freakin' overkill anyway. It's my belief that our roof would cave in before our current pipe would break but, I'm not an engineer. Oh well, guess I should call the guys and get this done...maybe tomorrow. Wouldn't it be nice to have it done before the bodybuilders come in? I work in a basement. I have had very little contact with anyone from the outside world today. Guilt can still reach me though. I've just downed a can of coke and a campus news article caught my eye...apparently, we should all be boycotting coke because of horrific worker conditions in Columbia. I bet I could lose weight if I only ate non-controversial food. I wonder if anyone has tried to market that particular diet yet? I'm really not accomplishing much of anything here today.

The Chest

My mom and her husband brought with them a chest that my dad had built for me. He gave it to me 2 Christmas's ago but, I didn't have the room for it in the apartment. I am moving come August so, I asked that my mom bring it with her when she visited. The chest is gorgeous. Back in Finland, my dad used to make a number of these. Mine has 3 drawers and has curved sides and a curved front...looks quite fat and jolly. the front and top are inlaid with veneer cut by hand into diamond shapes and glued one at a time in to place. A stain and multi varnish coat finish leaves the chest absolutely gorgeous. It will forever hold a special place in my heart. Why then did my mom give me a table cloth for it that my dad had given to her saying that I was to put it on the chest...that was where it belonged...and then, after giving it to me stated "that used to be my cloth...guess your father forgot" and ... as well, why did my husband have to come home late and drunk and bemoan the fact that the chest had arrived 30 days before our impending move? Why not after?

I think I will have to work on this idea further. To tease out what other items have inadvertently been placed inside this chest....or, maybe, just to get a few more things off mine.

Who is John Galt?

I didn't think it would ever come to this but, I am beginning to fear that it has. A feeling of futility...of 'so what' ... of wondering what the point of it all really is? How did I come to feel this way? Misunderstood. Defeated. Undone. Well, it's simple...and it's complicated. I had hope. Let's back up. I had recently had a brutal month at work time-wise. Only one day out of the month of May didn't have something going on on stage and a great majority of the days had two or more events squeezed in. Despite the grueling pace, my staff and I received nothing but compliments and, I felt that we were on the top of our game. "Get em in, get em on, get em out" became our collective mantra yet, at no time were any of us willing to sacrifice our own basic needs that centred around putting out our best performances. In an industry where the half ass and the almost good enough seem to dominate, it's very nice to work alongside people who want to produce quality. Needless to say, I was feeling pretty darn good about myself. I got a note of thanks from the 'big cheese' --my supervisor's boss and felt that my work was beginning to mean something within the grander institution. I went out on a limb. I made a suggestion for change. Change that would benefit the theatre, and in so doing, benefit the university as a whole. I asked that washrooms be built that would be accessible to our patrons without forcing them to go outside to another building to pee. Yesterday, I received a response. Seems that I was wrong about the theatre being important. Seems that as a classroom, there are no real complaints regarding access since, students can access the room close to the stage. This access point is linked via underground tunnels thus, no one need go outside to pee. If, however, people attending important lectures were to complain, the suggestion from above was that our theatre should not be used. Forget about the fact that we have a nicer space, better equipment, a professional staff that will go out of its way to create the best 'event' possible; let's not bother to add accessible washrooms to the mix. Instead, let people move to dinky uninspired room repleat with humming flourescent fixtures and orange plastic chairs. As for the performances we hold? So what. Since they aren't deemed important academically, they may as well not exist. So, this same institution that spouts out how important culture is and how much the arts are valued is spouting out nothing but bullshit. I shouldn't be surprised. I was warned. Warned against hoping...warned against thinking that anything could actually change the narrow minded corporate philosophies held by the upper crust. But, then again...well...it really is only a job eh?

HAPPY CANADA DAY

My children have stuff to say today....here's A:

g ghghh hghghghhg hghhghghghgxhghghghgh hg gh ghgghhghghghghhg hhhhghghghgghhgfghghfhffhhfhh hvhvhvhhhhhvhhhgvgvccvgvcgcvvcvc

Now is S:

sierra

Hmmmm...well, her 'cover' is certainly blown isn't it. Not to be outdone, here's A again:

aryn

Wow...they like the alphabet. So do I. Nothing wrong with letters...nothing whatsoever.