why do i even have a blog..

I never write in this thing anymore! WHAT THE HELL IS THE MATTER WITH ME!

Ahhh so it's been over a month. In the last month a few things have happened. We are in the basement and we are cohabiting peacefully and happily. It's small, but it's cozy, and we get to eat my mother's cooking every day. This is the life. And I'm bigger, obviously. I am now so big that putting my socks on is the most challenging part of the day and the stairs exhaust the hell out of me.
I haven't bitten my nails in over a month! This is such a big deal, you don't even know. I have purchased like 6 tubes of nail polish since I gave up the nasty habit and I love my new ability to peel clementines. I've eaten hundreds.

Christmas was wonderful. It was truly Christmas this year, instead of just one loaded disappointment. I did the whole gingerbread house thing with my nephew, and watched festive movies with Mike and enjoyed our time together. I loved shopping for his Christmas gifts more than I loved getting gifts myself (this is new!) and I spent it sober and full of life, with the people that I love. Mom and Dad had a bit of a party on Christmas eve. Mike and I hung out in the garage with everybody for much of the night. But he also surprised me with a Christmas eve marriage proposal, and a beautiful diamond ring...
I have had different opinions on marriage throughout the years. I have both wanted to get married and have laughed at the very idea. I want to marry Mike. I'm not saying that I need a piece of paper to validate our relationship or any of that shit. It's a lot more than that. I want to really share our lives together. Have the same last name. Know that we both got married because we both want to spend our lives together, and not have to question that. I want all the people I love to be with us and watch us make vows to each other and I want to have a family. Mike deserves nothing less and I want him to know that there is no one else I'd rather be with for my entire life.
Sappy stuff!!
Ahem. anyway. I don't have much to write about today but I figured I would break the silence. Promise to write again soon.

slipping further into obscurity, and deeper into the couch.

It's so sad, but as much as I have already isolated myself, I just want to keep doing it.

Facebook has been the only thing keeping me in touch with a lot of people lately. It seems so safe, you know, you don't have to say too much, people can keep tabs on you, it's controllable, it's enough so that you don't actually have to go and hang out with people you don't care about that much while still pretending that you care! It can be a truly brilliant social networking tool.
The drama that my aunt Debbie keeps stirring up on that stupid website has driven me to the point of not only deleting my facebook account again, but I am also seriously considering staying the fuck away from my family members, as well as most people in general.
I am very well-intentioned when it comes to my relationships with other people. I try to be understanding and open minded and I don't like confrontation and I just think that everyone should get along. If you don't have anything nice to say, don't say anything at all. That kind of thing. So when my aunt almost breaks her arm and I jokingly suggest an outfit made entirely from bubble wrap (that was probably stupid of me after all that fucking farmville nonsense..) and she acts deeply wounded and makes me feel like a piece of shit... you know what? Okay. Your over-sensitivity and general mean-spiritedness is going to cost you a relationship with someone who could be valuable to you - me. Because you don't deserve the time of day in my eyes, if that's how you are. I am not going to walk on eggshells around you just because you're related to me. That means nothing to me. Your family is only what you build around you, and doesn't necessarily include people who insist on being a victim whenever they are given the chance. In my opinion, she doesn't deserve to get away with that bullshit and I'm not going to let her.

I think the older I get the more difficult it is to be close to people. It's hard to find a friend that you can trust, it's hard to keep in touch when lives are all going in different directions. But you try, because you want to believe that people are good, and that everyone else is going to display the same amount of respect to you as you do them. And continually you are let down by 75% of the people you associate yourself with. I feel like this is probably just me. It probably is...
This could all be some sort of hormonal land mine going off, too...
Who knows.
I'm just sick of people right now. So bye bye facebook, tah for now.. cheerio..

goodbye

It's hard to say goodbye to a person who once meant so much to you.
But sometimes it has to be done because sometimes... some people just deplete our emotional reserves and we have no choice but to cut 'em loose.
This has been happening a lot to me lately.

Fran was supposed to help me pack last weekend. On Saturday she said she had cramps and just didn't feel up to it. I was okay with that. She said she would come the next day - Sunday. We made plans to have swiss chalet and go see the new Twilight movie. It was going to be my treat in thanks for her help. Packing is really difficult when you're almost 6 months pregnant! Much more difficult than I would have imagined. I really needed help and if I knew she was going to fall down on me all weekend I would have accepted one of the many other offers for help that I recieved. But I'm not very smart, and I do not learn from my mistakes.
Saturday night she went to a party (she lied to me), and she was up until 8 am and when she finally got up on Sunday I was pretty much done packing. I wasn't so much mad as I was just really saddened by the fact that I officially had no friend around that I could actually depend on. I felt really stupid for even believing I could trust her to do as she said. I was blown off all weekend and she wasn't even apologizing.
So I told her I was done, I didn't need to be a burden in someone's life and I didn't need another fair weather friend. Of course, I am so sensitive and emotional, I was really upset and it wasn't easy for me to do this. But I did. And then she just got really mean. Told me to fuck off and called me crazy and even trashed me on facebook.
I don't give a shit about losing a friend who wasn't much of a friend to begin with. What saddens me is that I was so naive that I stayed in this empty friendship for so long because of loneliness. We weren't friends because she did anything for me. I tried really hard and she just fucked me around time and again and I stuck around out of loneliness.
So. Lesson learned.

It's not easy maintaining relationships with people. People hurt. Being close to anyone is hurtful but in the end, we have to cherish memories of good times we've had and try not to hold on to something just because we're afraid of who we will be without it. The most important relationship we have is with ourselves, after all. So we have to be respectful of it.

increased absent-mindedness.

I got out of the shower a couple hours ago. My routine is to put lotion on, do my makeup, deal with my hair, and go get dressed. Deodorant after the shirt goes on so as to avoid making any mess on the shirt. Perfume, socks, away we go.
But today I did everything but the deodorant part. And I don't know about everyone else, but if I don't get that shit on promptly, I start to smell in no time. I don't know what it is.
So I was sitting here thinking about what I could write about today when I stretched my arms and caught a whiff of myself. And I was like what the hell is this?! And then I realized I forgot the crucial deodorant step.
I'm wearing a new top today and now it is soiled with the smell of my pungent body odour. That isn't even fair. And now I am wearing the deodorant but is it too late? Now that the smell has surfaced is it going to overpower the deodorant and remain stuck to me all day? Am I going to smell like a mixture of Harajuku perfume and foreign man from Eastern Europe? Ugh.

greener pastures.

Does anyone ever really know another person?
I honestly doubt it. All my life I have really tried to be a good person, and for the most part I do alright, but it's always the people I love the most that I tread all over and take advantage of. Maybe that's how everybody operates, and perhaps I'm not alone there. But why would I ever be that way?
Turning over a new leaf is refreshing and I am happy to be in the position I am in these days. Before I got pregnant I was still a fuck up. I drank all the time and did stupid shit and went to parties with a bunch of idiots and made Mike mad at me all the time, poor guy.. And now everything is really, really, really boring. But it is healthy and with a cleaner mind and body I can look around at everyone else and feel relief at the fact that I don't have to be anyone I used to be. I can be somebody new. I don't have to fuck up anymore. I don't have to fall down drunk in a bar and lose my cell phone and forget what happened the next day.
So a friend of mine went to a party the other night and made some pretty rotten choices. One of them was to have sex with a guy I used to know. This guy used to be completely in love with me. And as far as I knew he still was, I ran into him a few times. Okay, so the friend is Fran. I don't even feel like beating around the bush. I know I have no right to be upset by the fact that this transpired at all, but I have to wonder if that would have ever happened had I not been pregnant, and were at the same party. I know it wouldn't have.
Do you ever really know anybody?
I thought I knew Joel and he turned out to be somebody so completely different than I had thought he was for the 2 years I spent with him. Now I am facebook friends with him and I see him falling compleeeeetely in love with girl after girl after girl, and now I can see clearly that he was never in love with me, and he is not in love with any of these girls, either.
Human beings just have a way of making you feel like a complete retard, don't they?
Adam. Adam was a total piece of shit. I hate even thinking about him, he makes me skin crawl and the thought of him brings up so much anger inside me that I could still stab him in the throat if he were standing right in front of me and feel no way about it. Pond scum.
And of course there have been plenty of people who have thought that they could trust me and they were wrong. I have betrayed people for my own personal benefit time after time and sometimes, miraculously, I am forgiven. I do not ever want to hurt Mike the way I have hurt other people. Mike is the most pure of heart person I have ever met. Or is he? Do you ever really know a person?
What is the right thing to do? Do you fess up and admit to everything you have ever done that was dishonest or selfish? Or do you keep all that shit inside you so that you don't hurt anybody else? And what about the people that hurt you? Do you forgive and forget or do you forgive but never forget? Do you stay close because you are afraid of who you are without that person's friendship or do you move on because you've never done anything to hurt another person and you've never needed anyone's forgiveness before?
Let he who is without sin, I guess...

how the day will go

Mornings are always so full of possibility. If you wake up and the sun is shining - it makes you feel like you can do anything! You make some coffee, you drink 2 cups, you put your laundry in the wash and you sit to write something in your blog. You do the blogging thing because you'll be damned if having a child is going to stifle every outlet that you enjoy. So you blog. About nothing. Fine.
So. Right.
The sun is shining (but the sun doesn't really shine, does it? I mean, the back of a CD shines. Disco balls shine. Suns don't really shine. Need to find another word). There is only a small window of time that is of any use to you before you fall back into the familiar habit of sitting on the couch all day long, refusing to shower because no one important ever sees you anyway. You'll do the dishes - and that's enough. What more can possibly be expected of you? You're pregnant! It's like the free pass you've been hoping for your entire life!

The phone rings and it's your friend. The one you told the other day that you would babysit for on Friday.
So that's where I'm sitting now. I've committed to babysit a 10-month old baby. I don't know anything about babies, pregnant or not. I will learn, that's what they tell me..
So today I have to go to the bank, I have to go to the mall with Jamie and Victoria, I have to pick up some groceries, I have to make dinner and dessert for Mike because I haven't done that in a really long time and I don't want him to be scared of living with me.

I also have to pay some bills.

You know what's probably the most irritating thing that happens to me on a weekly basis?
I will go do my laundry, costs $5 to wash and dry 2 loads. So I do colours and lights. And you know what happened one time? I completely forgot to put the soap in. So I washed, and dried, and folded, and everything was still filthy. But that was only one time. On a regular basis I will be waiting for my laundry to finish drying when I will notice a pile of clothes in the bathroom that I neglected to throw in the hamper. A t-shirt on the floor. Several pairs of underwear. And I feel like a bit of a failure because I let the laundry get the best of me again.

So I'm off to finish the laundry, have a shower, go to the bank, to the mall, what have you...

banking can be this uncomfortable.

Dear TD Canada Trust,

You and I have been together quite some time now, yes?
But I feel as if our relationship hasn't really progressed.

I know that it's normal to have trust issues in the beginning of any new relationship. But you and I have been going steady for a year and a half now. Can't you trust me? Why won't you let me take money out of my account the day that I deposit it? Why do you make me wait a whole goddamn week? Have I ever let you down before?
All you do is take and take and take, and frankly TD, I have nothing left to give.
You take money from me every time I use an ATM that doesn't belong to you.
You take money from me when something bounces. Do you know what that means? YOU TAKE MONEY FROM ME BECAUSE I HAVE NO MONEY!
And you don't only take a little bit. You take like $40.00. As if my financial situation has just really put you in such a bad position that you're entitled to it. That's a lot of money, and if shit is bouncing, chances are I need it more than you, TD. By the way, shit bounces all the time because you make me wait a million years to gain access to MY OWN MONEY! And then you take and take and take and FUCK YOU, TD!
You take about $30.00 out of my account every month, by way of charging me to go through this hell you put me through!

To tell you the truth, you've really played me the fool TD. I can't go on living like this. Do you realize how much better a jar in the backyard would treat me than you do? A piggy bank? A safe? Any of them would be glad to have me and they would treat me like a real lady.

That is why I think it's best if we see other people.

twiddling thumbs

I cleaned the apartment!
Well, for the most part.
There is a lot to be done before packing and moving out. I have lots of shit that needs to be taken to the dump. I have to give my television to Fran, so she has to come and get it. The balcony is FULL of garbage and recycling that I am just too lazy to carry down to the dumpster in the parking lot. And the bigger that pile gets, the less likely I am to feel like getting that task out of the way. Mike will do it if I ask him nicely. I will help, too.

To the dump: Green chair, TV stand, couch, wooden thing by front door, desk, bookshelves (mike has to build me new ones), dresser, bar cart, hopefully that's it.

I sorted out 3 garbage bags full of clothes that are going to be on their way to goodwill sometime this week.
I called in my prescription refill even though I'm not able to go and pick it up. I scheduled my maternity registration visit (January 8th) and so far I have read 37 pages of Kavalier and Clay. Productive day, I'd say.
It's 2pm and I am bored out of my skull.
Might have to get my ass over to mom and dads because I have nothing else to do.
Mike wants me to go get my flu shot but I reeeeeally don't want to go do that. I'm not that scared of getting the flu. I'm sure I'll survive the flu. Hours and hours of waiting for a flu shot I may not survive. Not in the spirits that I am in due to my lack of anti-depressants.

Ugh, it's just that getting to mom and dads is such a huge excursion and once I get there, there is just as much to do there as there is here. What I really need is a hobby. Or something. Fuck I'm bored.

Signed up for youvegotsupper.com e-mails. They send you grocery lists and recipes for all your dinners. This will be fun because I've promised myself that I will make at least 2 meals a week that they send to me through e-mail. So that's something.

I have to go to mom and dads, I'm way too bored to stay here.

need maid, will pay with hugs

Scene:
A girl in her pajamas, sitting on a broken vinyl futon, on her laptop. Hair is standing straight up on end. Ben Sollee is singing in the background about a change that's going to come. A ferret is under the broken futon making disturbing sounds. On the coffee table: a box of swiss cheese crackers, Palmers Tummy Butter, Prenatal Vitamins, an apple core, empty pudding cup, 3 candles, 4 empty coffee mugs, black nail polish, various papers, tic tacs, 2 other types of lotions.
Girl screams, runs into kitchen, picks up pizza box and throws it across the apartment. End of scene.

I'm sure you got my point.
I'm never even really at home so how did my apartment get to be such a festering shit hole?
It takes me a couple of hours to get in the shower after I wake up. It's like a momentous task that requires plenty of preparation time. Then I get read, takes about 45 minutes, then I try to find something to wear but my options are severely limited. Must go shopping. Oh right, can't.

Somehow I absolutely must find it in myself to get up and clean this mess, and keep it clean.
Maybe tomorrow.

getting there together

It's certainly been a while since I wrote.
I promised myself I wouldn't do that anymore; that I would write even if I felt like I had nothing at all to say. I need to start keeping promises to myself. At the very least, writing might help me work through the emotional roller coasters.

I feel kind of bad for my son. He's going to have a lot of challenges in his life. We all have a lot of challenges. If he is depressed, I don't know how I'm going to deal with that. I will know that I gave him that and that he hurts in ways he won't talk about. And that will terrify me. I hope that I am a good enough mother that he will have the tools to get through his darkest times. I don't know anything about raising children, so hopefully I figure it out. Hopefully I can manage to make him feel comfortable talking to me about stuff. Hopefully I can one day talk to him about all the bad stuff that happens to everybody...

God knows what else he's going to have to deal with. Life is hard. This kid has no idea what he's about to embark on. Or maybe things will be easy for him. Maybe he will be a beautiful person who is incredibly smart and knows himself so well that there is never any wars inside his head. Maybe everything will come easy to him and maybe he will be so talented and so kind that he can go anywhere he chooses, and do whatever he feels like. Maybe he will be that way. I've known people like that. When you cry in front of them they make you feel like a total retard. I would like it if he were like that. Not so emotional or sensitive or unsure. Not so scared and apprehensive and self-conscious.
How the hell do you raise a child to grow up that way? How do you make a person whole and happy? I guess I have no idea what I'm about to embark on either. So we just have to get there together, my son.. my son..

if only i had a banjo..

Yesterday was a pretty good day.

I woke up in a good mood. I watched Glee and 90210 on my laptop. I had a shower. then I cleaned the place. I lit a couple delicious scented candles, it was nice. I went on the laptop and MSNed for an hour or so, and then I was just going to go read some Steinbeck and Fran offered to come over. So that's what she did.
When she got here I made apple crisp. Well, we did it together. It filled the apartment with the most delicious smell. And despite the fact that neither of us believed it would actually turn out, he turned out amazing!
Then we dragged my mattress out to the livingroom and watched all the Neverending Story movies. The third one was terrible but watching the first 2 was like taking a walk down memory lane. How I loved those movies when I was a kid. I think every kid loves them.
While we watched the movies we ate dill pickle chips. So much that I still feel a little sick from them. We drank a lot of coke. We made fun of the movies. It was just like old times!

I guess lately I've been so consumed with worry over my impending life changes. This baby is going to change everything. It is pretty much all I ever think about. Mike and I spend more time together now than we ever did before, because I'm pregnant I guess, and because I'm off work, and he's off work an awful lot as well. It's alright, I do enjoy spending time with him. But sometimes a little escape is nice. So I go to mom's and that's always fun, I love spending time with my mom (is that because I'm pregnant, too? I am a lot more grateful for her than I used to be..)

It was nice to spend some time with a friend and not think about the things that I always think about.
Must remember even after I have the baby that it is essential to do things that make you happy every once in a while. That's probably why I woke up in such a good mood this morning, too.
And Melitta coffee. It's the best coffee I've ever tasted.

Birthday Canundrum

Mike's birthday is in 14 days.
2 weeks.

I am a little strapped for cash (a little? I mean a LOT) and I want to make his birthday special because he really, really made mine awesome. I don't know what to do...
I wanted so badly to get him Leafs tickets. They are 200 freaking bucks. I can't justify spending that right now, when I don't know when I will have money again or where it might be coming from...
I don't even wanna fork over the cash for my antidepressants, and those are pretty essential!
What to do what to do what to do........

Help!

I don't know how anyone manages to glow.

UGH.

Here are some of the not-so-glowing-and-beautiful-and-full-of-life realities of being pregnant.

- Last night I tried to hold in a fart (or toot) while watching Rambo 3 with Mike. I couldn't do it, but I was pretty sure I could let it out without any noise. Which I did. But it smelled really really bad and had to pick up the ferret really fast and blame it on him. Mike played along but we both know the truth.

- I refuse to wear anything without stretch. I never thought I'd see the day.

- I can eat an ENTIRE big bag of dill pickle chips without stopping to breathe.

- When I lift my shirt up and spread tummy butter all over my expanding gut, I look over at Mike and I can tell he's a little grossed out by the whole thing. The whole tummy butter thing.

- I can't poop.

- I counted the tiny pimples on my forehead today and the grand total was 21.

- Neck pimples.

- I got up to pee 7 times last night. New record.

- Mike watched Iron Man this morning and I lost my effing mind because it was too goddamn early for frigging IRON MAN! Now he's a little upset with me. Whatever. It is too early. The movie is garbage anyway,a nd he's seen it already. Translation: I am very irritable.

let's have bizarre celebrations..

Dear Mikey,

Do you have any idea how much I love you?
I look around at the rest of the world and I wonder why everyone can't be a little more like you.
When I'm in the worst moods ever, you always understand and tolerate it, and you make me smile even when I don't think I ever will again.
You have taught me a lot about growing up. You've shown me that a person can have a fulfilling life without drugs or alcohol, and you have never held a grudge, even when I have been so blindingly drunk most people probably would've ran.
And just so you know, when I met you at Rachel's wedding, I do believe it is the closest thing to love at first sight that exists. I didn't love you, but from the moment I saw you I was drawn to you. I wanted to know you. And for the 3 years after Rachel's wedding I often thought about you and one time I tried looking you up in the yellow pages, but I wasn't spelling your name correctly..
Sometimes you irritate me, don't get me wrong, you're not perfect. You tend to throw your elbows around in your sleep. They sometimes catch me in the eye, or in the ribs. Then I sit up for like an hour just being mad and wanting to elbow you back. I keep telling myself that next time, I'm elbowing back. But I haven't yet. But you need to be more careful.
I also hate when your mouth hangs open because it makes you look a bit like an oaf.
But you're not an oaf, I'm not calling you an oaf :)
And I also don't like it when you refuse to pick up ferret poop or do the dishes.
But these are small things. I've definitely had lots of boyfriends who I didn't even like.
So thanks.

mom things.

There are some things that I absolutely must remember were my favourite things when I was a little girl, just in case I'm about to have a little girl. I want to be able to give her the things that my mother gave to me that made my childhood special and fun.

1. I loved when I came home from school and my room was clean.
Everybody knows that moms clean waaaaay better than any kid ever could. And this only ever happened to me a handful of times (the coming home to a squeeky clean bedroom thing) and what I loved about it most was that I could walk around my room for a good hour or more just observing how my mother organized my things. I always preferred the places she chose to put things, the order she chose to put things in, the way she folded, made my bed, where things were on my dresser and so on. I would always try and keep it exactly how she made it for as long as possible.

2. My mom singing to me.
Mom was big on singing (she still is, I guess, but now she sings really annoying songs that get stuck in your head for days!). I remember when I was really little she sang Skinny Marinky Dinky Doo (I don't know how they spell the name of that song..) to me in the bathtub and she would sing to me when we cuddled and it always turned me into butter.

3. Some really, really simple things are sometimes the nicest things of all.
When I was upset, sometimes my mom would tuck my hair behind my ears, over and over again, and it calmed me right down and sent shivers down my neck and made me sleepy and happy. It always made me feel better,
I liked when I was treated my age. You know, when I was 5 I liked being treated like a 5 year old (hold my hand when you cross the street, eat 3 more bites of your dinner, etc) and when I was 13 I liked being treated like I was 13 (finally being able to sit in the front seat with the airbags, bike riding around the neighbourhood alone).

4. Little surprises.
I liked when my mom surprised me with chocolate she picked up for me while she was at the store, I liked when she bought me new socks or something else that I needed but hadn't asked for. It showed me that she did think about me when I wasn't around and that she did notice what I liked and what I needed. One time I came home and my mom had gotten me a little white mouse in a pink cage.
I liked big surprises, too. The best thing my mom did for me was re-decorate my bedroom. She did this all the time. Most of the time she did it just because she felt like it. I loved when she did this, it always made me feel like a princess. Most people comment on how when I was little I never came out of my bedroom. That's because it was always such a special little place for me.

5. Time and attention.
Sometimes when I was little I felt like I didn't get enough attention. It's true that I thrived in solitude (and still do) and so I spent a lot of time by myself. But I loved when my mother asked me how school was (which she did surprisingly rarely). And if I needed help with my homework I liked when she at least tried instead of yelling at me to stop crying and figure it out. Even if she couldn't figure it out either, I liked when she took the time to see if she could help. And sometimes she could help. A lot of the time she just didn't bother. My mom had 2 other kids and they were handfuls, so I can't blame her for ever feeling overwhelmed and irritated. A lot of the time I didn't even really need help, I just wanted to see if she would do it. Kids are weird.

6. Thrifting
My whoooooole life is full of memories of me and mom driving around to different thrift stores and checking them out. We'd buy stuff sometimes, and sometimes we didn't. I always got to pick all the toys I wanted. We've done that for as long as I can remember and we still do it to this day (I don't get toys anymore..). It's not a big deal but it's something that we've always done together and when I think about it it always makes me tear up. I love my mom so much... which brings me to:

7. Traditions
There's a couple of these. Mom and I had favourite movies to watch together, that were just ours.
Every Halloween my mom made my costume, which made mine special compared to all the other kids with store bought costumes. A lot of the time 3 or 4 kids in my class were in the exact same costume. But never me.
Every Christmas eve I could count on getting pajamas. I still like getting new pajamas on Christmas eve because it makes the night and it makes christmas morning so much better.

Those are all the things I can think of right now..
Those are the things I want to give to my daughter, if I have one..
Every single one of those things the my mom, and only my mom, did for me that made me sooooo happy. When I think about it, I know I have the most amazing mother in the world, I just want to be half as good as she is.

I guess I'm ready to write again..

Yesterday was an awful day. Probably the most awful day of my life.

Things haven't been going very well for me lately, emotionally. Whenever I went to work I had a hard time seeming happy. My boss was a complete jerk and a total idiot. I had a hard time smiling when he made me feel like a piece of shit. But this is just me, I mean, jobs and me... I can't hold down a job like a normal person. I get emotionally involved and fuck the whole thing up, every time, i never fails.

So yesterday I go into the office and I don't really want to get into too much detail BUT...
I got fired.
By the new guy. He's been there for 2 weeks and he isn't my boss. At all.
But he fired me.
And then I had to sit at my desk for half an hour crying while I waited for my mom to come and get me so I could get the fuck out of there, which I should've been able to do immediately.
After I left a friend of mine (whom I got an interview for a couple of weeks ago) texts me and tells me that my boss wants her to start immediately.

So I got fired. By the new guy. And then my friend got to take my job.

I know that may not seem like the worst thing that has ever happened, but this was the only decent job I've ever had. And just like that - gone. I wasn't worthy of it. I don't know what it was. I don't know why I got fired. But try to imagine being more emotional than you have ever been in your life (because you're pregnant) and then something like this happening to you. I felt so sorry for myself yesterday... I was behaving like someone had died. I bawled and bawled and lay in bed all day long, not eating, throwing up like crazy, my head was so sore...

I can't get back out there. I can't go try and get another job. I'm terrified. I'm so scared and miserable.. I do not want to be anywhere near any other human beings right now. I feel better just being on my own. This isn't about wallowing either, this is about being as calm as possible and providing the baby with a healthy environment to develop in...
I just need a break.
So hopefully I can get unemployment benefits. Because I have to. Because I can't go back to that right now.

you're stronger than you think

When I think about my life, the things that have happened and the things that haven't happened yet, I almost feel tired. Sometimes I wonder how I will keep up, and if everything is going to turn out alright in the end. I have no way of knowing. I also wonder how transparent I am, and what everybody else can see right through me. I have been a sad person, I've almost always been a sad person. And I don't know how I am ever going to get through that. Medication helped, but now that I'm pregnant I am a complete slave to my emotions. That's fine, it doesn't hurt me, but I worry about my future child. I don't want them to know that their mother is sad. How am I to make certain that that won't ever happen?

I went to the CNE this past weekend and there was a psychic. So I went to her for fun, and shelled out 45 bucks to hear what she had to say. She said the baby will be fine, and will be just like me, but she didn't want to talk about the baby. She wanted to talk about me.
She said that the amount of pain that I feel is enough to give a person a nervous breakdown. She said I've always felt trapped in darkness and she said she worried about how I would be after my pregnancy. she fears post-pardum depression, and she wondered how things got this way for me.

I wonder that all the time. And that is probably the major issue, right there. I am always wondering. I have always lived inside my head and I have always had a hard time making that place comfortable to be in.
I have to try, because I can't be the person that she worries about.

calm blue ocean, calm blue ocean...

Having a super hard time dealing with my own emotions lately.
I don't know what it is. But a few examples:

1) Today I was in a meeting with a supplier that my company works with, and he started rattling off part numbers and codes that I had no idea what to do with, and then when we were finished he asked if I had any questions and I had to hold back my tears. WHY? That's friggin ridiculous! That didn't look professional at all. But I couldn't help it! I just couldn't!
2) Yesterday Mike blew marijuana smoke into my ferret's face (accidentally - but still) and I went completely apeshit, accusing him of doing similar things to my unborn child. I practically made him beg for forgiveness for something that seems pretty stupid to me now.
3) Stupid fucking ex-boyfriends who insist on keeping tabs on everything in your life and feel that they have the right to comment on it have gotten under my skin. To the point where if I remembered his phone number I would probably be screaming at him from my office phone. so.. luckily...
4) My mom made some innocent comment about Mike being scared to tell his family about the pregnancy, to which I completely over-reacted to, getting angry and crying and just being a lump about it for like 45 minutes.

But apparently, this is all normal. And this is just the beginning. So hold on tight because this ride is going to be a long one.

Update: My due date is April 27th and a psychic has given us the inside scoop and claims to know that I'm having a GIRL! yeeee!

just you and me baby

My toxic ex makes me so angry sometimes.

Because I have no escape from him, it seems, and never will, I have had to protect my blog by allowing only invited users to view it. Congratulations on being chosen.

i'm going to complain some more now

So Fran and I hung out for a bit today. We grabbed some lunch at Aout'n About. She had chili nachos. I had 2 meat pies, a salad and a Chicken Tetrazzini to go because I couldn't decide. How pregnant of me. It's awesome hanging out with Fran because she is one of the only people I have no problem being 100% honest with, and who will never judge me because... uhh she's just a really good friend like that, I guess.
So lunch was great and everything but now I just feel like shit. I feel like I might puke, and I can't stay awake! I slept for like 10 hours last night, and then today I've napped for a cumulative 4 hours. I am a sloth.

I am a sloth.



What a weird looking, scary animal.

Anyway, we're going to see The Time Traveler's Wife tonight. Mike doesn't want to go at all, but he indulges my every want which is why someday he will make an excellent husband. The movie will be good. It has to be. The book was phenomenal. I just hope I stay awake throughout the movie, seeing as my undiagnosed narcolepsy appears to be evil and merciless.

fancy grown up job, meet lindsay. she's down there.

So I'm at my super-awesome-new-job-can't-believe-i-landed-this-OMG today and everything is going okay so far. My starting salary is $30,000. I mentioned yesterday I get benefits and a pension plan. They gave me a credit card (they gave me a credit card?!) and I will be getting my very own business cards next week. My new boss loves me.

But there was just one thing about today that kind of bugged me...

My shoes are such an awkward shape and fit that my foot just kind of falls out of it whenever I take a step. It's awful. They're really cute shoes though! Anyway, so at one point I am walking from my office over to the Xerox machine (and my office is kind of in the centre of everybody else's offices, so they can all see me) and my foot falls out of my heel, my feet trip over my shoes and i land on my face on the carpet in the middle of the office.

And so begins a beautiful relationship!

super awesome job change

Soooooooooo

I don't wanna jinx it or anything... but...

Ummm...

Totally got a great job today. Benefits, pension, cushiony little office, totally badass.
I think I'll do great and everything...

But I'm pregnant. How are they going to react when I drop that bombshell a few months from now?

www.fleetbrake.com

TMI Thursday: when you gotta go...

Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Is it really Thursday already?
Well, hell. Why don't I tell a story about the magical experience that is pregnancy, and one of the beautiful moments that's taken place.

So I was at work one day last week (before I decided to never show up again) and I was just getting off. Now, because I'm peeing a lot more than I feel I should be, I went for a pee before heading home. Or, not home, but my parents' house. Nothing was coming. I got a couple of drips.
The trip home takes about an hour. There is no reason why I should have to go pee before I get home.
Oh, but that's exactly what happened.

Halfway home, I am overtaken by the need to urinate. I am shaking, I'm trying so hard not to pee myself. All I can think about is how much I have to pee. I have my legs crossed and I am sweating like a goddamn pig, it's really taking a lot of effort to not piss all over the bus. I even start humming to myself. I'm bouncing up and down like a 4-year old. I have to fucking PEE.
I start to worry about how hard it's going to be to even stand up, I have to go so badly.
Why was this even happening to me? I don't deserve this!

Finally, finally I get to my stop. I stand up nervously. So far so good. I have about a 2 minute walk ahead of me until I get to the house. Can't run. Have to tread kind of carefully. I'm doing it, it's happening, I'm actually going to make it. I'm going to make it! Hallelujah! I put my key in the door, and I'm in the house. EVERYTHING IS GOING TO BE OKAY!
I get to the washroom, and I see the toilet, and while I am unbuttoning my pants I start to pee a little bit (I think it was the anticipation and the sight of the toilet) and I tried to squeeze it back in but I couldn't! I peed all over myself. I finally got my pants off about halfway through the stream but I couldn't stop. It was all over the floor. I got maybe a capful of pee in the toilet. The rest was everywhere but.

When I said pregnancy was magical, I meant it.

roddy

I've been having a hard time writing lately. You must have noticed. I think this is because I've let anxiety monopolize all of my thoughts.
I think I need to lighten up a titch.

I'll tell a fun little story about my brother, Roddy.

Roddy is a wonderful guy. Anyone can see that. However, he isn't terribly perceptive, and he does make a lot of poor decisions. One of these decisions has resulted in his now living in Britich Columbia. I'm actually kind of jealous, because it's unbelievably pretty out there. But I am stuck in Hamilton. But hey, at least I'm up before noon today.

This one time, years ago, Roddy was going through a weird little wizardry phase. Don't ask me. But he had decided to make home made candles! Now he made the hot wax in mom's pots, I believe. Which in itself was probably ill-advised. And he poured the wax into boxes, which would shape the candle. But the bottom corners of the boxes were not sealed completely, as they often aren't when it comes to cardboard boxes. So the wax started leaking out the bottom and getting everywhere. Roddy, in a panic, puts the candles in the kitchen sink to leak everywhere. Do you know what happens to wax when it goes down a drain? I'm not sure exactly what happens butI do know wax hardens and would probably result in having to replace pipes under the sink. Somebody started yelling this at Roddy and he prompty removed the "candles" from the sink and dashed to the trash cran, spilling wax all along the way. The kitchen was an effing disaster after this. I can't remember what happened with the sink. It might have been fine, but still. I think it's a funny story, and it very much illustrates my point about Roddy. He's a wizard.

Oh! Another one! This one is way better.
One time, years and years ago, Roddy was babysitting me while our parents were out someplace (and I don't know where my other brother was). Anyway, did I mention that Roddy is 6 years older than me? He is. So Roddy had been doing a lot of research online, this is when everyone first started getting the internet at home. Roddy had learned how to make home-made rockets online. So he suggested we send one to the moon! I was all about this, because I was young enough to actually believe my rocket would make it to the moon. So I suggest we write a little note to the aliens (I had a weird, weird obsession with aliens, more about that some other time). So that's exactly what we did. We made a home made rocket and we slipped a note to the aliens inside of it. And we went to send it.
But we couldn't find a lighter anywhere!
We searched and searched, but to no avail. No lighter any place. Now, Roddy used to light his cigarettes off the toaster when there were no lighters around. So this is what he had in mind for lighting the rocket. So off to the kitchen we go, and we stick the wick in the toaster and press the button, and after a second the rocket starts sizzling, ready for take off. The wick was very small so the rocket totally went off in the livingroom, bouncing off all the walls, the floor, the ceiling, the curtains. And there were black streaks all over the place when the rocket finall fizzled and died. We cleaned up a lot of them but some of them stayed until mom and dad painted the livingroom again.
We lit another rocket and we did make it outside, and our rocket to the aliens went about 30 feet before falling to the ground. The aliens never did read what I had to say.

So many fun memories with Roddy. He really was a dream brother when I was a kid. He actually enjoyed hanging out with me and indulged my childish fantasies, probably because they were his childish fantasies as well. And there are a lot of similarities between us, even though sometimes I deny that there is. We are both a little vindictive, but we both mean well, and we're both artistic and we are very susceptible to heartbreak. Of course, I would never make candles in the kitchen sink or light a rocket off of a toaster. Those are Roddy-specific qualities.

We were talking the other day, he calls from time to time. And he was off to the beer store with ONE HUNDRED DOLLARS worth of empties. Like, empty bottles of beer. How many bottles would that be?! That's like a THOUSAND!
That's my brother :) He's adorable.

'emotional eating'

I am a very typical prgnant chick. Already. At least, this is what google has been telling me. I'm a stereotype.

FOOD. I am just so in love with all things edible lately. In fact, if I haven't eaten in 5 hours or so, my stomach is in agonizing pain, and I have to eat. So I can't avoid being a fatass even if I give it my all. I just have to accept my fate. It's okay, it's okay, as long as I can have my body back when this is over. Please.

Some of the foods I have been coveting incude lemon sorbet, lemon loaf cake, lemon merangue pie, lemon anything actually, grilled cheese sandwiches, dunkaroos (remember dunkaroos?), pickles (toild you I was a stereotype), and meat ball subs. Oh, and junior chickens from mcdonalds. That's probably the craving I am most ashamed of. I've had a lot of those.

And then there's the whole sleeping for 12 hours every night thing. And the crying all the time. I cry when I see that Dawn commercial with all the ducks covered in oil, and they clean them with toothbrushes and dishsoap? That makes me cry everytime.

So, some news, on the advice of a friend I have decided to maybe start doing some freelance spot writing for radio stations. Until I find something permanent. Maybe even after I find something permanent. I mean, why not? Why can't we do things like that? Someone has to.

job search: day 1

It is absolutely sweltering outside.

It's another one of those days. It's noon and I haven't showered. But I have been up and about since 7 am, faxing and e-mailing my CV all over the place. Of course, I'm not expecting much, but it is a start. I just have to go out and search on foot as soon as it cools down a bit.
When job searching, have you ever found yourself applying for jobs that you know you don't want, just because you know you have to find employment soon? I hate that. I think I just applied for a marketing job a few minutes ago.

I had a marketing job once. I had to stand outside of petro canada gas stations (all day long, even in the rain) and try to convince people to sign up for credit cards that they didn't want or need. When the day was over, a guy named sacha came and picked us all up and took us back to our city. It sucked. It really, really sucked. That, and Tim Hortons, were the worst jobs anybody could ever have.

How does anybody find a job that isn't in a restaurant?!

take this job and shove it up your ass.

I don't know if it's the hormones, or if it's my pride, but I am not going to work today. Or ever again. At least, not the honest lawyer.
You see, I worked a 10-hour shift last night and I was only supposed to work a 4 and a half. It wasn't so busy that they needed me; in fact, everyone could see I had no use being there. I wasn't busy, I wasn't making any money.
I told them that if I didn't catch a bus by 12:30 I would have to spend 30 dollars on a cab to get back to my parents' house, and that if I had to do that I would be fucking pissed. They didn't care, they didn't cut me. I told them that my parents had dogs who hadn't been out for a pee since 3 in the afternoon. Nothing.
So I tell myself that if I don't catch that bus to my parents house, and have to spend 30 bucks on a fucking cab, I'm quitting. On principle. Because it's just not fucking cool, especially when there is no need to have me there. They were just being fucking assholes. So I proceed to mope around, not doing anything. My boss takes me into his office and says that because I had been dragging my ass around, I would be closing the resataurant (working until 3am) and I am fucking pissed. I'm never coming back.
So for 3 hours I walk around with tears in my eyes, trying to work but honestly there was nothing to fucking do so mostly I sat in the laundry room with the door locked. Crying.
You know what? You're not my babysitter, Adam. You don't get to be a fucking asshole to me just to teach me a lesson about how to do my job. Fuck you. Seriously, FUCK YOU.
I had to quit anyway, eventually, because no pregnant girl has any business working in a bar. And I didn't want anyone seeing my belly. It just sucks that I didn't have anything else lined up yet. Oh well. That's life.
I feel pretty good about not having to go to work today, and fucking them over. Fucking fascist shithole...

i didn't write this one because i thought anybody would be interested in it, i'll tell ya that much

I think if there is one big mistake, or colossal regret, that any woman can have (and is almost guarunteed to have if she's not too careful), it is that she will let opportunities pass her by, and become a mindless spectator in her own life, dying without ever having discovered who she really is meant to be.

Maybe that sounds like the opening lines of a Bette Midler film, but I don't give a shit; It's the truth!
We owe it to ourselves, and to our unborn children, to make the most of our lives. Mind you, I am typing this from my parents' house in my pajamas in the middle of the afternoon a couple of hours before I head off to a job that I can't stand, but every journey begins with a single step, no?
I feel like I would be failing my little embryo if I refuse take the reins before he or she arrives.

Thus, I will make small but meaningful changes in my life, working up bit by bit.

For starters, I think it's about time that I take a volunteer position. I have to think about what exactly I should devote my valuable time to (unpaid, no less). But surely there is something that sparks an interest in me. I will get back to you on that. Don't expect miracles, I'm talking a few hours a week, at best. Being charitable is not in my nature, but I want to set a good example for my baby while it grows inside me, so it doesn't grow up to become a shit.

Secondly, I am going to the art store and I am going to start painting again. I'm going to get this done this week. I have already picked up a giant canvas, I just need some paints now. Lots of paints.

I once knew a girl who stole a spoon from every restaurant she ate at, and wrote the name of the restaurant on the handle and saved them all in a big treasure chest. Dozens, if not hundreds, of teaspoons. That's a little weird, but it was her thing. It was part of who she was, and I thought it was charming. I think I need to tear a page out of Paige's book on that one.

Also, it couldn't hurt to get up a little earlier from now on, and have a shower before dinnertime. That's a tall order, but I need to try.

I'm going to choke down some wheatgrass and have a shower, and shave my legs because it's been a while and they're looking gross.

can you keep a secret?

So I had a dream about you last night. The first dream I have ever had of you, which I found surprising.

We were in high school together (in reality we were never actually in high school together) and we were in love (that part turned out to be true) but it was a secret (also true). We wanted everyone to know, so we spray painted our confession on a big wall just outside of the gym. We painted cartoons of ourselves holding hands and stuff. We went to class, which was right beside the wall we defaced, and we grew terrified of a teacher walking by and seeing our mess, which we knew was going to happen sooner or later.
When that finally happened, our teacher pulled me aside and gave me huge shit for what we had done. You were in the washroom at the time. I cried and cried and denied that I did it, and I blamed it on you. You took all the flack, and we never spoke to each other again.

That dream is dangerously close to what really happened!

I'm sorry.

on a more serious note..

do you ever get in thoise moods? do you ever just slumpright down into yourself and not want to speak? do you ever wish they made a drug that stopped you from thinking available on prescription? i get in these moods sometimes, like right now, where i feel like i don't even know me anymore. i feel like i don't belong in the world with all these people who know what they're doing, and never do anything wrong to anyone, and are happy. and i mean, really, i'm just a very sneaky, immature fraud who pops happy pills and watches too much television because it sort of drowns out her own thoughts.

TMI Thursday: *chuckle chuckle chuckle RUN*

Alright, folks, you know the rules. Join us all in humiliating the crap out of yourself every Thursday by sharing some completely tasteless, wholly unclassy, “how many readers can I estrange THIS week??” TMI story about your life. Or hell, about someone else’s!

Mom: You don't want to read this one, trust me.

It's Thursday again. And that means I have to wrack my brain trying to think of a story for you guys that you'd probably rather me not share. But I will anyway. And this week I think I will tell the tale of a boy named Paul, and this one time when I almost had a one night stand with him.

I was in University, and as a 19 year-old girl in University often does, I went through a period when I was an absolute trollup. I was screwing everything. The phase didn't last, I assure you, but this particular evening took place during said slutty period. I was dating this guy named Symon who was a total cokehead loser who ended up hitting me later on down the road (so that excuses the fact that in this story I totally cheat on him with his cute artist friend, Paul). Anyway, I hadn't heard from Symon in a couple of days and I was super pissed off because he cheated on me the last time I couldn't find the fucker. Sidenote: this was a very unhealthy and tumultuous 6 month affair. So I called Symon's only friend in the world, Paul. Symon was homeless and when he got caught living in the University Student Centre he often crashed at Paul's place. (I know what you're thinking - and yes, I do have excellent taste in men). Paul was a good artist, and I am and was also an artist, so he invited me over to check out some of his work. Paul was also very very handsome. And he was into psychadelics, which I hadn't yet tried, so he was automatically super cool and with it. I go to Paul's and he has The Monster Squad! That awesome movie about the kids who foil Dracula's plan to steal the amulet and take over the world? And the adorable little girl and Frankenstein become, like, best friends? Yeah! I hadn't seen it in like 15 years so when I saw it on his coffee table I was all like PUT THIS ON NOW! And we watched it on a sleeping bag in his student house attic. Classy.

One thing led to another, as it often did when I was a promiscuous little whore and the next thing I knew we were making out like crazy. Paul was a terrible kisser but he was such an interesting person and he was so fucking gorgeous that I had to forgive him and just hope that he would learn to follow my lead. He didn't, but whatever. Anyway, yadda yadda yadda, he may have gone down on me or something, I don't know, and so I reach for the button on his jeans.

Now, all women know that this really is the moment of truth. I have certainly never heard the words "size doesn't matter" come out of anyone's mouth who wasn't a) a man, b) a man with a tiny pecker or c) a liar woman in love with a man with a tiny pecker. For the most part, we know better. It matters. So when you're about to check out the penis for the first time with someone new, you're hopeful that it's going to be decent. Am I right? I think I'm right... anyway to me it's kind of like unwrapping a Christmas gift. It's either going to be a pair of socks or a nice big penis. I mean, an X-box. Whatever.

Paul's little pee-pee was so tiny, so utterly tiny, that I had to stop. I had to. I recoiled against my will, as if his penis physically repelled me with its anti-sexy and I turned super red and wore this stupid looking grin. A grin that says "I'm sorry..." like the grin you might accidentally wear when you accidentally feed a vegetarian a real burger instead of the veggie...
I could make out with him all night, even though he couldn't kiss worth a damn. Could I even stomach the idea of giving this guy a handjob? No. I couldn't. His penis was probably as thick as a roll of dimes and it was shorter than my index finger. I remember my fist being of more length. It wasn't even funny small, it was just really, really sad.
The next few moments are a blur, but I remember getting up quickly, making up some stupid excuse to leave and running out of his house, and avoiding him at all costs for as long as I went to that school, which thankfully, wasn't super long.

I want more TMI penis stories. Just puttin' that out there.

fucking douche...

This guy is a fucking loser.
I don't know why I have the desire to hate on Jon Gosselin right now, but the desire is overwhelming me! He's a fucking douche! I watched a couple episodes of this stupid television show about a rabid bitch and a total douchebag and their 8 spoiled brats. (Sidenote: my worst nightmare, officially, is that I will give birth to a kid that is anything like their daughter Mady. That little girl is a straight up asshole*.) I only started watching after I heard Jon say something like "I don't hate Kate. But... I don't.... you know" like a fucking jerk. Like a fucking jerk who forgets that one day his kids are going to grow up and watch all of these episodes. And then the camera is on Kate who has tears in her eyes and talks about how she doesn't want the divorce and she doesn't want to be alone. And you know what? I'm totally on team Kate and anybody who isn't can just fuck right off, I want nothing to do with you. (My passion about this is surprising, even to me).
Jon's divorce ended and then within days he started dating this 22 year old smoker and all around nasty daughter of Kate's tummy tuck surgeon (ouch). The age difference there is 10 years. If I were Kate I would probably shoot this little bitch in the face. And now there are rumours that he plans on marrying this dirtbag. It's a sin. Especially since he couldn't manage to make one marriage work (and keep his dick in his pants). I hate this asshole and I hate his Ed Hardy shirts. YOU HAVE A HUGE BALDSPOT ON YOUR HEAD AND 8 FUCKING KIDS! STOP TRYING TO DRESS LIKE A 20 YEAR OLD!

Okay, you may argue that Kate is a fucking bitch who drove Jon to cheating and living under her was probably like living under Nazi rule. Fine. Argue that all you want. You know what? This stupid fuck knew who he was marrying. He shouldn't have been surprised, and he shouldn't be running around telling everybody that she's a tyrannical bitch and he just snapped one day. You know what? I feel sorry for Kate because she never did a 180 in the public eye and became a completely different person. You did, you son of a bitch! She obviously was under the impression that she was marrying a grown-up who wanted the same things she wanted. But no. No. Because all along you just wanted a 22 year old smoker and a bunch of stupid Ed Hardy t-shirts. I hope you're happy, you fucking jerk.

Okay, rant = over.

Somebody should cancel this show. It's depressing and it makes me angry, and the jig is up, quite frankly. A happy family, this is not.

*Perhaps it is in bad taste to call 7 year old girls who I have never met assholes. And perhaps there are worse things that my unborn child could resemble. But I am feeling extremely emotional right now and that's just how I feel. Whatever. I don't feel bad.

another post in which i complain about nothing and everything all at once.

So I am finally off my ass today.

I know. It's about time. And I woke up and I promised myself I would write a goddamned post that had some sort of worth. Lately I have been writing garbage. You don't have to lie to me and say otherwise, I know the truth. And my feelings aren't hurt.

Last night I went to the emergency room because for the last week or so I have had no energy whatsoever. My muscles burn as if they've been over-exerted, even when I am doing nothing at all. I have to catch my breath at the top of stairwells, I don't know how I am going to make it through a day at work. It's been a real pain in the ass. So I called the tele-health lady (I don't know if my American readers will know anything about that, maybe you do, who knows. Basically it's a phone line that you call to speak to a nurse who advises you on your health concerns) and she told me to go to the emergency room. So now I'm petrified because I'm pregnant and I really don't want anything bad to happen to the little cluster of cells in my uterus, regardless of how new or accidental that cluster may be. I'm attached to that cluster now, dammit!

Anyway, it was the first time I told a stranger I was pregnant (several strangers, actually). It sounded so weird coming out of my mouth. I felt like a fraud. I don't know why. I felt like I was making it up or something. (I'm not making it up).
So anyway I wait around for 2 hours to see a doctor who looks at me like I'm the fiftieth pregnant broad to waste his time that day with ridiculously meaningless concerns. I pretty much figured that was what would happen and I was glad for it, don't get me wrong... but I would have preferred if the guy did something to imrpove this fucked up muscle weakness thing. It's perfectly normal, says the doctor. Great. Fine. I'm only a few weeks into this shit and it is already sending me to the emergency room with perfectly normal symptoms that I have confused with a huge calamity. It just figures. All of the books and resources say that you will feel fatigued during your first trimester. FATIGUED?! I CAN'T WALK 5 FEET WITHOUT HAVING TO SIT DOWN!

Ugh. Anyway, today should be interesting. I am going back to the Molson Amphitheatre to bartend the Tool concert. I hate the band, but I love bartending the concerts. I would do it for free. It's just a fun bonus to make shitloads of cash for watching a concert and spending a day in the sunshine. I think it will make me feel better, since I have spent the last couple of days watching TV in a dark livingroom and avoiding society, like a fat, ugly basement troll. Suuuure, I have zero energy and my muscles ache like hell, and maybe I am making a huge mistake by going. I don't know. But fuck it. It's such a beautiful day and how many more concerts am I going to be able to go to after this? Don't answer that...

I woke up at noon today!
And it feels great!

I am going to get nothing productive done, I am going to eat unhealthy garbage, I am not going to shower and I am going to watch movies on MPIX alllll day long.
This is going to be badass.

i think i lost the receipt...

Alright, I don't know exactly what I'm doing with this whole baby business. I wasn't planning on this happening, but it is. I don't really know if I'm prepared for it (I'm not prepared actually), but I do know the things I can do in my life and the things I can't do, in order to live with myself. So here we are.

Now that is not to say that this is a picnic, because I will tell you right now, this is no picnic. Nobody at work knows about this yet, and they are all wondering why I haven't been going out to get shit faced with them lately. They are also wondering what's with the mood swings and the incessant hunger. Oh, and they are wondering why I feel nauseous all the time and why the smell of poultry sends me racing to the washroom to vomit. I am really struggling with the fact that I am going to be someone's mother. Really struggling. That is some heavy shit right there, being responsible for a human life. Making sure you don't fuck it right up. Sigh.

I worry about the fact that this is probably going to turn me into a fat cow. I might be a fat cow forever. My youth and my body and my freedom: all gone forever! But at the same time, I think it might be a little bit okay with me once I meet the little person I am making all these changes for. I'm sure he or she is worth it. I am pretty excited in that sense, because I know my body is manufacturing a wonderful human being right now. One who will enrich the lives of so many people, and who will do great things. And hopefully let me live with them when I'm old and crotchety instead of sending me to the home.

Sometimes I'm terrified and sometimes I'm doe-eyed and cool as a cucumber, certain I can handle anything. But the fact is, I'm scared as hell. I don't know if what I am doing is right and I don't know what the future holds. But I do know I am taking responsibility for this baby and I am going to have to try my best. That's all there is to it.

TMI Thursday: The Dumpster

You can thank Lilu for all the TMI Thursday vomit-in-your-mouth-a-bit stories. Why not join the fun and welcome the weekend with a little too much information?



I didn't post a story last Thursday, I'm sorry :(
But this week I aim to. Even as I write this sentence I'm not exactly sure if I have anything up my sleeve...
I mean, I announced today that I am pregnant, yay me... so I could talk about all the farting... but what is that really? Everyone knows that pregnant chicks fart. It's not even that funny. At least, right now I'm not very amused...

Oh! I know!

One time I was with this guy named Joel. He was a musician and he was in a band with his brother. They travelled around and played their unique brand of crap all across the province. Big woop, right? Well this one time, I went with them on a particularly long drive (4 hours, was it?) and on the way home I was drrrrrrrrrrrrrunk. Now, anyone who knows me can attest to the fact that I don't fuck around when I drink. I am either going home bloody or screaming profanities at strangers. I disgust myself.
So on this drive home I was particularly shmammered and thus slunk back into the seat of the car and snored like a rhino until I woke up having to pee really, really badly. So I start yelling about having to pee, and the guys are like, yeah we kinda gotta piss too so we go searching for a gas station or something.
We get to a gas station after maybe 20 minutes of my incessant bitching and I run in and ask for the washroom key. The guy behind the counter can't find the key. Can't find it anywhere! So we can't use the washroom. Great. But the guys see a dumpster and they piss behind it. I am incredibly jealous of their ability to piss anywhere they like without shame, and I'm so drunk that I don't really give a fuck about appearances anymore; I'm pissing behind that dumpster too!

So I go behind the dumpster. I drop my drawers. I squat in their giant puddle of urine and I start to go. But what happens next, you ask? Well a car pulls into the gas station and shines his lights directly on my face as I'm pissing behind this dumpster and, remember, I'm drunk; So I react, and I react in a way that I may not have reacted had I been sober. I fell right on my ass into that huge puddle of everybody's piss, right there behind the dumpster at Petro Canada, and soak myself all over. Even my hair. All my clothes. I'm covered in piss. After Joel and his brother had gotten all the laughing out of their system they were not pleased with the fact that I had to sit in that car, covered in pee. But that's what I did. Until we got to a 7-11, where I got into their washroom and took a Mexican shower. The ride home would still take a couple of hours and we had to roll down all the windows because that smell. Oh, that smell.

The moral of the story? Girls really aren't supposed to pee outside the way boys do. We just don't have the equipment to pull it off. Secondly, maybe I should quit drinking. (breathing sigh of relief that I am pregnant and therefore cannot drink for another 8 or so months. phew!)

here goes...

Dear _____,

I know we haven't met yet, and we won't for a long time still. But I feel like I know you a little bit already. I know you're probably a little nervous about the fact that they put me in charge of you, but I am going to set a few things straight right now, and maybe then you'll feel a little better.

- I will always be there, whether you like it or not.
- You will have to listen to me, because I know best (or do I? Doesn't matter, you have to listen anyway)
- I will probably yell a lot, but don't worry, I also laugh a lot.
- I won't let you see me cry.
- I will always sing "no matter what" by badfinger to you.
- You will love all the things I plan on painting for you.
- I also plan on eating a lot better while you're with me, and after you're not.
- I will learn to cook for you. You'll get used to it eventually. And then you'll try my mother's food and beg to live with her. And then I will do that yelling thing.
- I promise I won't blame you for the irreversible damage that your passage will do to my body. At least not to your face, anyway.
- I will help you with your homework! Not math though. But your dad can help you with math because he can do it. I can not.
- I will make your stability and health the number one priority in my life, for the rest of my life.
- I WILL make you wear things that you hate, and I will make you get haircuts that make you look lame.
- Just so that we're clear, you will be taking cello lessons. Your refusal will result in indefinite allowance suspension.
- I will try my best to make sure you know that I love you more than anything, every day.
- I will try not to set my expectations ridiculously high.. but please take those cello lessons k?
- I won't kill you if you get a tattoo. But I will laugh if it looks stupid.
- I will be as patient as possible.
- I will always listen to you, and I will answer all of your questions.
- I will always be your mom, and I will always consider it an honour.

the eyeliner

So I am trying to pack some stuff for my 2 week long stay at my parents' house.
Its not going well. I have a bad way of trying to pack absolutely everything I own even when I'm just going somewhere for the night. 2 weeks?! I already know I will be making plenty of visits home because I have forgotten this or that...
What I'm most looking forward to is all the great t.v. and movies I can watch while I'm there. They have the movie network and stuff. Awesome. I'm feeling so sick these days that some days on the couch watching True Blood sound very good to me.

Mom and Dad are going on vacation again. They're going to Newfoundland. Aren't they lucky....
I'm just a little angry. And jealous. I am dying for a vacation, and my window of opportunity is closing rapidly.

So Tanya stole my eyeliner when she was here yesterday.
This upsets me so much, for so many reasons. I trust her with so much. So much. And I feel like an idiot for forgetting that I can't trust her. Why is she doing that to me? Not only did she steal my eyeliner, but she replaced it with her stupid broken used up eyeliner. As if that makes it okay for her to take mine, or maybe she's covering her tracks so that she can say "Oh I just got them mixed up". Whatever. I thought we were over this shit but I guess not. And considering all of the things that I have trusted her with, I hope she doesn't keep betraying that trust. I know it's just eyeliner but it really is just the tip of the iceberg.
Please Tanya, stop making me feel stupid for trusting you.

Must make my way over to Goodness Me to buy some wheatgrass juice.

planning for the future

I haven't been writing enough, I am so sorry.
There is just so much going on, and I know a bunch of people that I know personally, and who read my blog all the time, are probably wondering what the fuck I've been up to.
Well, I'm afraid you're just going to have to keep wondering for a little while longer. I will try to allude to it as little as possible.

So I have to find a new job. ASAP. I have never really had a real job before. I've tended bar and I have waited tables for years now and I've always been all like okay, when the time is right I will get a real job but I still don't even know what that real job could be and frankly, now I'm running a little short on time. I have to make changes. I can't stay at the lawyer for several reasons. For one, they will never take me seriously or promote me or even make me bartender. In that sense, I have bled the stone that is the honest lawyer. Secondly, I am going to be 23 in less than a month (feel free to e-mail me at lindsayoquinn@gmail.com for a complete list of items I would be overjoyed to receive as gifts) and it is high time I started behaving like an adult. It would be nice to have a day job. It would be nice to have benefits, not that that's at all likely, but I can dream. It would just be nice to be taken seriously, and not have to depend on tips, and not be looked down upon by snooty pieces of shit in suits who demand complimentary pretzels at their table - before they get there, no less - and never want you to approach the table; instead they insist that you just come up to them as soon as they beckon for you. I HATE SERVING!!! (Those gentlemen I affectionately refer to as the pretzel suits, and they are indeed real people, and I hope they die in a plane crash. All of them).
Phew.
Anyway, I also have to move. I can't stay here anymore. I'm not even sure if I can remain in this city. I am dying for a drastic change. Just dying. So I am putting in my 2 months notice to my superintendent and I am going to mosey.
You won't be hearing any stories about parties I've gone to or times when I have gotten so drunk I offered a bouncer a blow job or anything like that anymore because I am officially on the wagon. I mean it, I'm done. This ridiculousness has costed me too much dignity and too much, well, money. I will indulge in the finer things. Like literature and long walks. And lots of ice cream. Lots and lots of ice cream.

Don't mind me, I'm just making some plans..

my konstantine, you spin around me like a dream

Forgive me if this post is a little cryptic, because it will be.
But I did the right thing tonight.
I hurt somebody who needed to be hurt, and it hurt me too.
But it was the right thing.

I love mike so much I think it might kill me sometimes.

so awesome..

praise for the 'if tom cruise were in charge i'd be dead by now' vitamin!

it bothers me that no one has the patience to deal with someone who is just sad. -Emily Haines.

I read that quote today on someone's tumblr...
And I have to admit that there are fewer things I could agree with more.

Depression and I are likethis. I feel like we always have been. I have been dealing with my depression for as long as I can remember.
And at first it wasn't easy to admit to myself that something was wrong. I think it wasn't until I graduated high school that things started to get really bad for me. I dated a guy who hit me, I wrote someone a love letter in blood, I dropped out of university and I quit almost every job (and didn't quit the right way). And I went years without any help, without any medication, without really knowing what was wrong. I knew I was sad. Who really knows what depression is? Who is to say that any of us is or isn't in an unshakable funk. No, no it's more than an unshakable funk: it is being the walking dead. It is being unable to get up in the morning, it is being unable to face the world, it is being unable to go through a day without some mind-altering drug for fear you will break down and have a fit in front of everyone. Because you can't do that; because you can't be sad. People treat the depressed the way they treat anybody who is mentally ill. They treat them like freaks.
And it really is just an incredible, all-consuming sadness. I think we need to have more respect for those who suffer from it. I have met far too many people who claim the Tom Cruise theory: no one is depressed and no one needs medication.
Well I am going to tell you my experience with depression. I assure you, I did not want to be on medication. I assure you, I suffered for years without it, and I assure you that it only got worse until I faced it and treated it in whatever way I could in order to feel like a person once again. I can't remember ever feeling like one.

I think any chronically depressed person has an idea when it started and why. I was a very awkward little girl. I was so shy and I didn't make friends easily. My mother would probably disagree with that, but trust me. I wasn't a very popular little girl. I specifically remember recess being an absolute nightmare; I would spend it in the corner of the playground combing a troll doll's hair. I knew I was just a little bit different. I didn't get along with many girls because they made me uncomfortable, they made me shy (probably because I grew up with brothers?). And because of this, they thought I was just retarded. My social skills were always lacking, and sometimes they still do. At any rate, I remember the first time I ever felt lonely was when my best friend in second grade declared that she had gotten a new best friend. I begged her to reconsider and take me back, but she didn't. I offered her my entire sticker collection and she still broke my heart. And I sat alone at lunch that day. Eventually we were best friends again, but I was wise enough to realize that I obviously put much more stock in this friendship than it warranted and I felt cheated. I began to withdraw into a world where people had less chance to hurt me. And there I always stayed. I have always retreated into books, writing stories or poems, and I always played better by myself than with others. I had to be my own best friend. Nobody else really liked me.
This has largely always been my experience with the world. I was just awkward and I felt like nobody understood me at all. Nobody was like me. I have only had a few close friends in my lifetime because of this, and all of them eventually leave as well. It only gets more difficult as you grow up. For instance, I never made a single friend in my 2 years of university. Not one. That's probably why I dropped out; it was the loneliest period of my life. All I had was a toxic relationship with a guy who, as I mentioned, hit me. Luckily that only happened once.

In the last year things had gotten unbearable for me. Last July I began a relationship with someone. He was (is) a wonderful human being who inspired me to be better. But we were not right for each other at all and I always knew it. The thing that hurt the most was that he refused to understand the sadness. The pain I was always in, and he couldn't figure out why.
There were times when I would cry for hours, for no reason. There were times when I couldn't do my job, I simply couldn't. I could not get up and pretend that I could take care of myself. I just wanted to die. I felt like an empty shell. Nobody had the patience. I would get drunk and cry and cry, and it would just make everyone angry. But I drank. I took drugs. I didn't know how else to handle it.
One day it just got so bad that I knew I had to try something, because I would soon die if I kept up this denial. I was dying. Medication saved me. I would like to say that I clawed my way out of despair without any help, just with positive thinking and the right attitude. Anyone with depression will tell you that's a crock of shit. Of course to some degree you have to want to get better, and you have to decide to take ownership of your life once more. But that only gets you so far. At some point you have to accept help. You can't beat this alone. And the day eventually comes when you simply can't fight it alone anymore, because you're as low and beaten down as a person can be.

I have always let people hurt me. I have always given my entire heart and I have always been rejected in the end. My former best friend, for instance, always treated me like a child and I only recently grew a pair and decided she could just go fuck herself. C'est la vie! That is one example of the ways in which my life has changed since my depression has lifted. I am happy to say that I no longer cry for no reason. I don't do drugs and I don't get drunk and feel sorry for myself. I haven't called in sick at all, just so I could lay in bed and hate myself. I eat regularly, and I sleep pretty well. I don't fear the future because I know who I am. That's definitely a first. I am even slightly less awkward!

I guess this post is really just about patience. If you know someone in your life who is sad, be patient. Don't walk out on them. Don't tell them to just be happy. That is the worst advice ever. Don't bother reminding them of how precious life is and how lucky they are; they know. Just be there, and don't be judgmental. Be a friend. Have the patience.

waking up

I'm having trouble falling back to sleep. It is after 4:30 in the morning.
I think too much when I'm trying to sleep. I think too much all the time, but especially when I'm trying to fall asleep.
For some reason, I feel as if there is a really big change happening, and I'm not sure if I am ready for it or not.
Mike took me out for dinner tonight and bought me flowers, and he asked me if maybe I might want to move in with him?
Do I want to?
I have made myself promises in the past, when other relationships haven't worked out. I have promised myself I would not live with another man until I am engaged to marry him... (do I want to get married?) And I have considered my bit of a double life and I have trouble choosing sides. But I know what is right and I know who I want to be. Do I have to be the person I am becoming?

Life is just a bunch of choices and in order to be an adult, one must begin by making some decisions they may not want to make. For instance, whether it is a better idea to go out and party for 3 nights solid or if it may be smarter to save some money, rent some movies and spend time with family and friends. Friends who do not drink in excess.
I don't even have any of those.
Point is, I really feel like there is a magnificent change afoot. I can't really tell you what that is yet, because I don't even know. But I do know I only have a little window of time to correct everything I have done wrong, and I fully intend on doing so. For the change.

Now how am I going to fall back asleep?

crawling out of the drinking cave

Who do I think I am going so long without posting?

It is TMI Thursday and I will hopefully think of a real gem for you guys later on today. But right now, it's 2pm and I just woke up so I need to take it a little easy.
I feel so incredibly unhealthy right now. The last 2 days I have been doing nothing but drinking and I have been eating so much garbage. SO MUCH garbage. The other night, I ate 3 cans of chef boyardi ravioli in one sitting, plus a frozen meatloaf dinner, all in like, what? I'd say 45 minutes.
And then the next night we had a party at fran's where I ate over half a large pizza and proceeded to eat another can of chef boyardi ravioli, a big bag of sunchips, a couple hot rods, a 4-pack of reese cups, a big turk and a honeybun. You know me and those honeybuns.
And last night I just don't want to talk about. At all.
I have not been seeing enough of Mike. I haven't seen him since Sunday. It is now thursday and I haven't even spoken to him in 2 days. I don't really even miss him, actually.
But I think a little bit of distance can sometimes be healthy. I don't know if I am necessarily ready to have him consuming my life. I even feel, dare i say, awesome after my break of being around mike. It's not that I don't love him, but he is very very boring. Every day is so predictable and we sit there and watch hours of television and it's just getting really boring. So in order to avoid feeling miserable and resentful, I feel it was almost necessary to spend the last 3 days doing nothing but drinking myself into a stupor with other people that I love.

sidenote:
I bought a bunch of candy for the soccer game and didn't eat any of it there, and so right now I am eating a fun dip. Remember lik.m.aid's fun dip? With the candy lik-a-stiicks? It gives you a feeling of continuity with the past when you enjoy your favourite candy as an adult. It's a great feeling.

So tonight I am going to spend some time with mike. I am starting to miss him a little bit and I know the guy is feeling a little neglected after the last 3 or 4 days. Tanys is still here so perhaps we will all do something as a family. Maybe we'll have to go to Blockbuster. Maybe we'll have to grab a slice of pizza together. Whatever it is, I just need to spend a little more time with my mikey.

i'm going to be the next victoria beckham.

I know I complain about my job a lot...
But tonight I have no cause for complaints.
I mean, the Def Leppard concert was a super sweet perk, and then tonight I got some awesome news.
Apparently me and another server, James, sold a ton of Carlsberg in the last month. So as a prize, we get to go to the Toronto FC game on Wednesday! We get to sit in a VIP booth, we get to hang out witht he players, and we get to drink all the free Carlsberg our little livers can handle.
I'm super pumped because I never win shit, ever. So my time has come, and thats fabulous.

i love gorillas.

So we went to the zoo yesterday!

The only thing that's fun to see at the zoo is the gorillas. Every other animal is either sleeping, hiding, or just fucking sitting there.
So the gorillas are close to the entrance to "Africa", where they also have an African dude smearing expensive samples of shea butter on your hands and then you love it so you have to buy the $20 container.. Anyway. They barf in their hands and eat it again, the silverback runs menacingly around the other gorillas while they dodge his attacks and look petrified, the baby gorillas fish for flowers outside of their cages with a long stick, I just love those little buggers. And of course I did what I do every time I visit the zoo: sit there and watch the gorillas for hours and refuse to move. And give anybody who calls them monkeys the hook eye.
But when we finally did leave the gorillas the rest of the zoo sucked. There were a lot of hills, not that much to see, and my feet were killing me by the end of it. AND Mike bought me a stuffed gorilla at the "zootique". What a sweetheart. So now my gorilla sleeps in my bed with me and I cuddle with him all the time. It's love.

TMI Thursday: alicia and the wet spot.

This is yet another TMI tale that is not my own, but belongs to an old friend named Tash. She had a boyfriend named Ryan, and they had 2 children together. They were little girls, both around the age of 4 or 5. They had a great apartment, with a fireplace, and hardwood floors, and all the adorable old-fashioned elements that I love in an apartment. I hung out there quite a bit.

So this one time I'm just lounging on Tash and Ryan's couch, I had been there for maybe fifteen minutes. The girls are running around insanely, screaming and throwing pink plastic hairbrushes at each other. Super fun. Then Alicia just wipes out. Like she slipped, did a somersault in the air and landed on her back and it looked excrutiating. It also sounded it. So Tash comes rushing out and asks what happened and the girls tell her. Then I kind of see this look on Tash's face, like she is vaguely recollecting some sort of guilty, secret information.
Then she bursts into uncontrollable laughter.
Through her giggles she manages to kiss Alicia's boo-boos and she puts the girls to bed to watch a movie. Then she comes out and sits next to me on the couch, still giggling ridiculously.
So she says to me you know when you have sex without a condom on and a guy spunks inside you?
And I'm like okaaaaaaaay... yeah...
And she's like and when it's over do you get up and go to the washroom?
And I'm like yeah. To rinse off or shower, whatevskies..
she says yeah. Well. You know when some drips out on the way to the washroom?
And I nod slowly...
Tash then says Alicia just slipped and fell in last night's wet spot.

Eeeeeeeeeeeeeew.

birds of a feather

I thought it might be fun to post tidbits from an IM conversation I had this morning with my bestie. So here it goes.

Lindsay: I'm failing miserably at being a vegetarian...
Fran: hahahahahaha, why the fuck would you want to be one of those? you love meat!
Lindsay: I do, its true. I don't know. to be cool?
Fran: I can see how you would think that makes you cool but it doesn't. being cool is being able to eat a nice big steak and not cry about it.
(talking about Fran's interview at the pretzel place...)
Lindsay: I would like to work at a pretzel place so hook it up. I'm over the lawyer. They don't appreciate me. They won't let me bartend and they will never promote me to manager.
Fran: Yeah man, fuck them. She told you she would make you bartender ASAP and she still hasn't? Screw them.
Lindsay: I want to make a scene and walk out on them out of the blue SO BADLY! But I can't. Adult responsibilities pfft...
Fran: Oh man we would have so much fun making pretzels together! That's what I'm gonna do to chris once i get a new job.
Lindsay: haha, we're birds of a feather..
Fran: I want him to come downstairs and be all like 'stop socializing with jesse' 'cause he always gets pissy when jesse and i talk for 2 seconds, and then i'm gonna be like SOCIALIZE THIS and do the suck it sign and storm out.
Lindsay: Oh yeah, the suck it sign. That'll show him That'll show him good.
(so on and so forth)

So anyway that besically sums up the morning for me. I am failing at vegetarianism (but still not given up!)... oh I didn't mention that I missed my pap smear appointment this morning because I set my alarm clock wrong and I don't have a phone so my mom couldn't call and yell at me, or pick me up, or anything.
Now I don't know if I have cervical cancer. Or chlamydia. hmm.. I think I'm safe though. Pap smears are just awful. Horrible. Nobody should have to go through that kind of ordeal. Especially with a doctor like mine, who insists on making idle chit chat about regular every day things while he points a lamp at your cha-cha and inserts metal clamps and climbs in up to his elbows.

So yesterday at work, as I was getting ready to leave for the day, Alex strolls on in. My 'sister' T has been kind of dating him for a couple weeks now, despite how opposed to the whole thing I am. So anyway, Alex strolls in and as soon as I see him my mouth drops to the floor and I smack him in the face.
Does he not have vicious bruises all over his neck? Bruises that resemble something a ware wolf might have inflicted on him? Bruises that say to me wow, tanya, you really do want to ruin my life don't you? And everyone else at work notices the bruises and then the taunting starts. Everyone knows she and Alex are screwing. Which is so not awesome, if you ask me. They all start in with all these variations of "mom fucking" jokes, but instead are "sister/cousin fucking" jokes and Alex is wearing these hickeys like a badge of honour. I'm disgusted with the both of them. T: If you're reading this: If you ever do that again I will tell Alex you have Syphilis and I will make sure he dumps you himself. Date him if you must, but for FUCKS SAKE! A little descretion would be nice. You friggin' idiot...

Today promises to be a terrible day, because Green Day is playing at the coliseum around the corner from work, which means the restaurant is going to be PACKED and I am going to hate my life for 4 or 5 hours solid. Not to mention this: does anyone like green day anymore? Does anyone like green day fans? I think people who still like green day are losers. There. I said it. Hate me if you must. But how long can they really ride this "americans who hate america but refuse to move to canada where things are, like, so much better' wave they've been on since I was 16?
Rant = over.

this isn't the apartment i moved into...

So I've lived in my apartment for a whole year now (A WHOLE YEAR!!!) and I still love my place. However, I feel like I don't love it quite as much as I did initially. My life has changed in drastic ways since I first moved in here.

When I first moved in here, I was coming out of a relationship with a guy I thought I was going to marry. But he had other plans and one day, he dumped me out of the blue by leaving a letter on our kitchen counter. I amazed myself by gaining extraordinary strength (stemming from extreme anger) and getting my ass in gear. I could've moved back home with my parents, but instead I went apartment hunting. I had decided to start a new life, all by myself. I didn't need that super-christian-so-totally-not-my-type-boyfriend-of-2-years. I found this place. I immediately fell in love with it. I was working at a new job making more money than I had ever made (those days are most certainly over) and I was having a purely sexual affair with a guy I later learned was schizophrenic. But I digress.
Anyway, the day I moved, I was helped by my parents and my brother. It was a fast move, and I stole almost all of my ex's belongings (those that weren't stolen were destroyed). And when everything was in my apartment and everyone was gone, and it was just me and my new home, I blared some Clash and started arranging.
I got everything where I wanted in that one night, and had pizza with my then-best-friend. I had never been happier.

A year later, my apartment is a fucking mess, I am in a new and improved relationship with a man that I hope to have babies with, and I have a new (and crappier) job. I long for the old days. The days when this place and I were just getting acquainted and I was a free woman for the first time of my life.
I have been trying to re-live those days in small but powerful ways.

When I first moved in here, I was washing my hair with mint shampoo and conditioner, which I have decided to start using again, not because it's particularly good stuff ('cause it isn't), but because it brings me back to the happiest days of my life. I also blare the Clash because it brings me back. I drink yellowtail chardonnay and it brings me back. I buy myself a bouquet of flowers from Botanika, I wear this particular dress with a pair of converse all star high tops and that brings me back. It's funny that these small things improve my day just because they remind me of how happy I was a year ago, when I first moved in.
And a year ago, I didn't really even think myself that happy. But I was. And I see that now. I guess it's true what they say; you don't know what you've got 'til it's gone. Things have changed so much since my first day in this apartment. I've certainly grown up a lot, and I love the person that I've become over the last year. I've also started myself a little family (with Breakfast). I have quit smoking and I no longer do the abundance of drugs I used to. I owe it all to that stupid jerk's letter on the kitchen counter, and to my super - for taking a chance on an unknown kid. ;)

I guess what I'm trying to say is..
Apartment of mine, we've drifted apart. I'm so sorry for that. I will take better care to ensure the survival of our relationship, and I will not let Breakfast's poop sit around in the corner for days the way I have been. *MWAH!* I loves ya, baby. It's been a good year.