shoot the j

Last week I was lost and floundering, looking for something to latch onto as the world passed me by.
This week, I know exactly where I'm going and how I'm getting there - and nothing's slowing me down.
Maybe it takes a near-drowning to learn how to swim, I don't remember, I was very little when I did. But I do remember getting thrown right in - and not being afraid. In fact, I was excited about the jump, and begged to do it again... and again... and again.
And I did learn how to swim.
So I thought about it today, and decided: take the plunge, and whatever comes with it.

So that's what I'm doing.

Wish me a safe journey back to the surface.

In other news: the kids I'm working with are absolutely wonderful. Totally welcoming, completely respectful and kind, very willing to help and seemingly very excited about me being there. The teacher wrote "Welcome Miss V****!" on the blackboard, and one of the kids wrote "Thanks for coming!" underneath. I thought that was sweet.
I did some fractions with a couple kids who weren't getting it - and it was pretty amazing to see them go from "huh?" to racing each other to the last question. I marked a few tests and did some photocopying. Overall, I could totally see myself doing this. The constant social interaction with people who understand me (10-year-olds) had an uplifting effect on my psyche, and I feel happier today then I have felt in a while (which is really saying something, because I've been happy lately).

MTL is coming up fast - in 3 days I'm off for "Summer Of Love Pt. 2" with my favourite girls, Nelly and Ash. I'm almost pissing myself with excitement. These girls make everything fabulous ten times more fabulous, and Montreal is pretty fucking seriously fabulous. Now you understand why I'm almost pissing myself.

Cheerio, everyone! I'm off to say "bye" to a few individuals who won't be making the trip.

dinosaurs lived long ago

Why do I not know what I want until it's thrown its hands up in frustration and is walking away from me? Why does it take a beating over the head for me to comprehend that what I need is what I had... (until it walked away with its hands thrown up in frustration)? And why is it that I just don't get things in life - never get things in life, until it's too late?

Just a few whiney, narcissistic questions to get my ego going on a Tuesday morning after the looooooooooooooooooooooooooooong weekend spent (not doing much except for) realizing how messed up and backwards I've become.

After Friday night's dramatic portrayal of what is to come if I keep peddling in this direction, I was feeling the reprecussions (and slight nausea) on Saturday. And Sunday. And Monday. In truth, my self-talk wasn't bad enough. All I needed was for good ol' mom and pops to give'er, to get me to screw my head on right. Like always, they deliver, like some lazy Chinese restaurant, after you've already eaten (or realized everything they're about to tell you). Clean the kitchen, clean the bathroom, vaccuum up, and try to smile. Do your homework, get an A+, quit your job, stop wasting time. Eat your dinner, don't talk back, lock the door, fall in line. Make your bed, help your sister, go to the store, get back on time.

But I still stayed out an hour and a half later then they'd asked me to. I always disappoint. Myself.

And then there's those things I wish I would've known about myself a few weeks ago, and those few words I wish I could take back, because as much fun as not knowing where you're going is, knowing is somehow still better. And I wish I'd known, if not who I am, then at least who I'm not, so I could've avoided some embarrassing moments. But I guess it's all a part of growing up, even though I should be well past that.

It's off to work for me, to waste a few hours before class.
Tomorrow I get to go back to grade five. I'm excited. I'll fit right in.

10,000 Hits

9,000 of them were me. But 10,000 is still huge.

You know what else is huge? The potential for last night to take over the number one spot on my list of Messiest/Filthiest/Most Amazing Nights Ever.
I still think my party was better - but that's probably because I knew all the people at my party, compared to the 3 I knew and the 2 I got to know at Dave's.

In terms of debauchery - it beat out my party ^2.

I kissed my new gay friend.

That's not the debaucherous part.

There was only one truly bad bit, and that's when this guy was giving me his life story and I just wanted to take a nap and he wouldn't SHUT UP ABOUT THE GIRL HE LIKES. Fack. Do I honestly look like I care about your failed love life when I'm drunk?

The answer is "No". I look like a moron when I'm drunk. But not a caring moron.

But I guess that's what happens when you're drunk. The thing that's truly on your mind becomes most salient. For him it was the girl he likes. For me it was sleep. And some other stuff.

I'm tired.

Great night though. Whatta night. The 80's rocked.

66% of the way there

Well, two out of three isn't bad.

I went to and actually sat through my lecture yesterday - which is a miracle considering an hour before it started I was still in my pajamas bawling at the TV ("Armageddon" was on).

Today, I looked into that bank job, but they're not hiring anymore. I also looked into that summer camp job, but they're not hiring anymore either. So much for the job thing...

Luckily, my grade 5 teacher came to the rescue - she's letting me volunteer with her 3 days a week, and she's going to hook me up with a grade one teacher at the school too to "expand my portfolio".
I looked into volunteering at some summer camps that deal with special needs children, and one of them looks promising. I'm waiting for the call back.

I also looked into volunteering at Geneva Center and Surrey Place. These places constantly need volunteers to help out with the kids who have autism, down syndrome, and fetal alcohol syndrome.

I'm actually really excited now at this new slew of paths that are seemingly just opening up to me. Seems like this is something I should've done a long time ago. I feel more useful already, and all I've done is committed a little bit of time. Wish me luck!

In other news: Dave's party is tonight and I'm SO EXCITED. I'm heading over to Nelly's at 7pmish. We're going to spend hours primping and prepping, get drunk, head over, have fun, and crash at her place.
She's making the dress I'll be wearing at the June 3rd wedding I'm attending.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAND: The Da Vinci Code comes out today. Woot! Although a giant part of me thinks it's wrong to contribute to the sensationalism and celebration of mediocrity that is to be this movie, I'm still pretty sure I'll be contributing to it's number one spot on the "Highest Grossing Movie this past weekend" charts come Monday.

sometimes quixotical; not always wrong

"Other arms reach out to me
Other eyes smile tenderly
Still in peaceful dreams I see
The road leads back to you"

I know what I have to do now.
I have a goal, and a plan.

It's time to grow up; no more falling back on luck, no more counting on good fortune, no more assuming everything will work out just fine in the end (even though it probably will).

There's really only one efficient way to get from A to B, and I should just ignore the detours and anything else that will interfere with that journey. That means ignoring all the Cs and Ds and exes.

What I do now, and who I become now, in the next few weeks and months and years will determine how far I'll be able to go and who I'll be for the rest of my life.

I need to focus on school. I proved it this past semester: I'm capable of amazing grades with just a little bit of effort, and I need to start fulfilling my potential.
I need to focus on gaining the type of experience that will help my chances of getting into the post-graduate program of my choice: I need to start volunteering in schools, and at camps, and with professors who do the type of research I would eventually like to do.
I need to find a job that will pay me a little bit more money for a little bit less (stressful) work, where I'm not surrounded by idiots I can't stand on a daily basis, so that I can pay off my VISA bill and continue to be able to afford to go out once a week and maintain a social life (and my sanity).

These are the three goals I've been mulling over lately, and I think that articulating them and writing them down will bring me that much closer to achieving them. At least that's what all the self-improvement books say.

So tomorrow, bright and early, begins my journey. I'm heading out to nail that nice new job, find out who needs volunteers, and I'm going to get a headstart on my readings for my summer class.

In other news, this weekend is Dave's raucous 80s theme party. I hit up the Goodwill with Nelly on Monday, and I have a perfectly hideous outfit all set to go. Think orange skin-tight mini dress, a bright pink overcoat thingermajiger with black lightning bolts, and some black legwarmers with 3-inch black heels.
I absolutely can't wait to put on the blue eyeshadow and get my hair to literally stand on end, which reminds me, I need hairspray. Can you say "Kodak moment"?

Pauly is back in town, and this upcoming May 2-4 weekend, we know what we're doing. And it's what every self-respecting Canadian does on May 2-4 weekend, say it with me: "drinking in the park". The weather doesn't look like it'll hold out, but that's why God invented garages and basements.

I'm so happy to have Pauly back in town. We haven't talked in a few days, but it's still comforting to know that he is just up the street somehow.

Lastly, this, I don't know what it is, this - unknowing, confusion, conflict - this part that's missing, this friend that's gone, this bit that's not whole - it's not going away, and it's not getting better.
But I'm learning to live with it.
And I'm not sure if that's a good thing, but whether it's horrible for me or not, "just an old sweet song, keeps Georgia on my mind".

boi meets grrl

I'm teetering and tottering and there's no seesaw in sight.

In all brutal and unadulterated honesty, some days (more aptly, some nights), I wish there was someone to debate about calling. I wish sometimes there was someone to snuggle up and read a good book with. Someone to distract me from work by invading every other thought, someone to be reminded of when a certain song comes on, someone to wish was around at a party full of people.
I kinda wish there was someone to worry about leaving behind when I go away before I get on the bus, and someone to miss while I'm gone.
And I wish there was someone I could just drag to the mall at a moment's notice because that's exactly the type of thing that's in their job description.
Too many times in the last few weeks I've wish there was someone there just so they could be the fucking DD so I could get hammered - but then I realized that if there was that someone, I wouldn't want to get hammered as badly.

And then there's nights like tonight. When I just want to be completely and utterly alone. Nights when I don't want anyone anywhere near me or my mind except the cute bartender or the funny dude on stage - and even them, in the most superficial and flighty way possible.
Nights like tonight when I want to look out at a sea of possibilities in the form of untapped boy potential, and fantasize about how great it'd be to snuggle up with any one of them, but not actually do anything about it because that'd defeat the purpose.
Nights like tonight when I just want to look forward to a string of meaningless dates that could be fun and could be lame and will not matter either way, and calls that may or may not come but won't faze me in either form, and comments or compliments that may or may not hurt or flatter, but couldn't be further from the truth or anything I need to hear or care about hearing.

And so I teeter, and totter, and hope no one else gets truly tangled up because I'm not sure anyone outside my head could survive this rodeo.
Some days I don't even think I can handle it.
And then there's nights like tonight when I wouldn't trade it in for what the whole world wants on a silver platter.

But it's weird, even to me, how I can be so cynical and jaded and superficial and disillusioned and so in love with the idea of love all at the same time. And I'm not sure where it'll take me, but hopefully it's somewhere warm and tropical where I can enjoy the smell of the sea and males of our species don't exist except in the form of hot and sweaty cabana boys.

i hope you don't mind...

I wished you were someone else tonight.
Someone who got my jokes. All of them, in all their insanity and randomness and verbosity. Who appreciated that I appreciate that most of them are dumb. Who got the difference between when I was serious and when I wasn't without me ever once having to clarify.
I wished you were someone who made obscure references to movies no one's seen and books no one's read and things no one's done and no one gets, but me, and you.
Someone who understood that my underachievement is just a cover for my overconfidence, and that my overconfidence is just a product of my underachievement.
Hell, I figured that while I was wishing, I might as well wish you were someone who understood all the ways in which that last sentence wasn't wrong in the slightest.
I wished you were someone who wouldn't laugh at my zaniest ideas. I wished you were someone who understood that half of what I say is a test.
I wish you'd be encouraged by me to be more, to fulfill your potential, to discard bad habits, to improve and evolve and mature and grow.
I wished looking at you a certain way would make you laugh.
Or that you'd tell me that every time you saw me, you were more impressed by me.
I wished you were someone who'd chatted with my sister on the porch and made jokes I wasn't allowed to hear. Or understood certain aspects of my life implicitly, and embraced them.
I wished you were someone who'd look at me like I was the only person that mattered.
Someone who made me feel like the biggest dolt and cutest thing all at the same time.
I wished you got that sometimes I need to be a kid, and other times I need to be grown up, and made that transition with me seamlessly.
And I wished you'd listen to me, and not just pretend to, but truly hear what I'm saying. I wish you'd like me for more then my boobs or my fancy words or my GPA, or even any combination of the above. I wish you'd like me for all the ways I don't make sense, and all the ways I do. All the dumb ways I walk and all the gay things I say. Like 'gay'. I wish you'd like my frown as much as my smile and hope for the latter but work with the former, and I wish you'd try to fix things, but only those that need fixing.
I wish you'd let go of all pretenses and pretend I'm not like all the other girls you've ever known. I wish you wouldn't forget I exist when I'm not around. I wish you'd find me fascinating, and not just right now, in this moment, but in the long term. That I never ceased to amaze you with my observations and uncanny sense of humour. That you couldn't quite place why you missed me, but that you knew you did. That you'd wish I was there when something good happened, or something bad happened, or nothing at all was happening.
I wished you'd recognize and appreciate everything I do for you, and that you'd make an attempt not to take any of it for granted, but that you would take it for granted - because that's what people do when they're comfortable. I wished you were comfortable.


And that's all, I guess. And I hope it's not too much to ask. I just wished you'd see in me what I see in you.
And I wished you'd call.
Right now.
At 2:10 in the morning.
But since you won't, I guess I'll settle for calling you. And wishing.

galvanize

Shit guys.

Friday might have just have been the best night of my life thus far.
Roman dropped my little sister and made her retarded. Possibly as a result, she cut her hair mohawk-like today. My parents thought it was cute.
Yesterday night was so random. "Tristan's penis is a rhombus!" Honestly, WTF? And Gary beat his pee height record... and put the moves on someone...
Shizzah. Dancing with Tristan's cousin was fun. I don't know why I can't remember his name since I was definitely *not* drunk yesterday.
Back to my party: I specifically remember falling down on our way to the backyard. And again once there. And I didn't care either time. That's how shitfaced I was.
Can we please talk about how great everyone was getting along and the amount of jokes that trespassed? Honestly, I only wish I could remember more of the details because it was HIL-A-RIOUS. I do remember dancing around my basement like a maniac with Irena and her boyfriend, yelling at the people in the kitchen, and making people eat. I remember my parents walking in and people jetting, freaking Zeebs switching up the music, and I'm pretty sure there was lots of kissing and face-licking, but who and what and how remains fuzzy.
Fucking Gary is obsessed with peeing outdoors. He peed in my backyard! And got his friend to do it too!

No call yet. No call coming, probably. But it'd be nice. Just to dignify the situation if nothing else.

Gosh, it makes me a little nervous because I'm positive nothing will ever come close to beating this in terms of great times.

1,2,3 Train With Me (on the porch!)
That is all.