Tuesday Wednesday Break My Heart...

2003-12-11T17:27:00.000-05:00

I am really curious about how someone taking this online course would do any hands-on training for this..

http://www.mtroyal.ca/conted/fall/fundir.htm

2003-12-10T16:02:00.000-05:00

Alrighty, so I've been AWOL. I'm not sure exactly why.

Offspring were AMAZING. Fabulous. Dexter...*slobber*...

Work has been tense. A co-worker was "laid-off" (corporate-speak for fired) yesterday. Another co-worker looks on her way out. I'm terrified that they will realize how out of it I am and make me next. Sure, right *now* they think I'm doing good. I know that I'm not.

I'm having massive anxiety and think work is probably somewhat to blame. I have lived through so much corporate trauma and find it difficult to trust anyone any more. My boss says she likes my work, but I never really know if I should believe her. Think I have issues?? Oh yeah. Being burned twice by companies, getting the heave-ho with no warning signs has done that to me. I hate not trusting and yet, I can't trust.

Dana's work has bitten her in the ass again, making me swear to high heaven that I will NEVER buy anything made by Maytag or Hoover again. Ever. Never ever.

I'm not having the holiday blues I usually get. It doesn't feel anything at all like Xmas. I don't know what my family has planned, if anything. I'm hoping it will be the same as the last two years, with a lunch and gift opening and then a get-the-hell-out-of-my-parents-house evening at home. Nothing planned for New Years and really, I don't want to do anything really. I'm becoming a heavy duty homebody lately. I just want peace and quiet.

I've been reading about both Highly Sensitive People and the emotional needs of gifted children. I'm starting to understand why I'm like I am a bit more reading those. Apparently with that combination and an unsupportive childhood, you're pretty much destined to suffer from depression. Yep. Wonder where I've heard of that combination before...

I feel like a life fucktard lately. Introverted, socially retarded, awkward. I just want to curl into a corner alone and read or play with my computer. I crave time alone more than I crave chocolate.

I dunno. Other stuff. Nothing important. Same dreary old shit. My life is passing me by and I'm barely waving.

2003-12-02T19:05:00.000-05:00

The Offspring

Never Gonna Find Me

On a mission started by my own admission
I will leave you all behind
By direction I'll create my own protection
The real me you'll never find

Aspirations turn to fear and desperation
Nothing's ever good enough for you
Burn in sorrow 'cause I see there's no tomorrow
You'll only see what I want you to

Never gonna find me
Never gonna find me
Way down deep inside there is a real me
I'm always gonna hide and this is who you'll see
Never gonna find me
Never gonna find me
Way down deep inside they haven't found me yet
I'm always gonna hide and this is who you'll get

On a mission to establish my attrition
You may think that you have won
Your rejection has brought on my introspection
I'll escape I'll only run

Accusations may destroy my motivation
I can feel it when you're pushing me
Burn in sorrow 'cause I see there's no tomorrow
Only I know which me you'll see

Break away!
Run!
Down inside!
I've got to!
Push it way!
Down!
I did not choose this!

I don't really know
What I want to say
I can't afford the throw
Can't make it go away
Try to make it through
Fuck your decision
I can't feel myself
But I'm burning up now!

Never gonna find me

2003-11-28T15:00:00.000-05:00

I am unusually feeling content these last few days. I'm sure the depths of despair will come once again, but for now I'm enjoying the lack of dogs around me.

Things swirling, ticking, running. Life isn't terrible, money situation is looking better. I hope this time the stay at the mountaintop is a bit longer.

2003-11-25T11:19:00.000-05:00

Today's DDR*

Sorry Gish - I'd love to check out Dex with you, even though I fear that there'd be massive injuries as all the teens in the club slipped over our drool. Mike's been an Offspring freak since pre-birth (he used to kick happily in my gut when I played them in the car) and asked me a few years ago to change his middle name from the boring Thomas to Dexter. So he's charged and ready to go.

I am very grateful that my grandfather wasn't a business tycoon that developed a chain of posh hotels. I would dread to think what videos, photos or otherwise *interesting* images of me would be for sale on the internet. Have I lived a weird life, or do most people have videos and pictures out there, somewhere, of them in wild, compromising positions? I know I could never run for office with all the skeletons in my closet.

I actually saw the Paris Hilton video (well part of it and yes, it proves the point that I have no life whatsoever). I guess rich people with the whole world at their feet are as capable of boring sex as anyone else. What's with the night-scope filming? They had to turn out the lights? It actually looked pretty funny, very Blair Witch with a dildo. I still am not entirely sure what the big deal is. A socialite has sex. Woo woo. She was 19. Shocking! Ugh. I don't even want to start talking about the things I got up to (and into) when I was 19. I'm sure somewhere there are pictures on the internet of that ;)

I've survived a week of dieting of sorts. Eating healthy, low GI foods. I haven't weighed myself and don't know if I should for a few more weeks. What if I've gained? And howcum I always forget that when you first start dieting, you have to pee every 20 seconds? I've worn a path from my desk to the bathroom here.

I'm really liking Gish's blog these days. She's neat. Go look. http://www.blurty.com/users/giish.

Dana? I know you're out there... speak to me!! Send me a note!! Tap once if you wanna get together.... ;)

Scoot? Sassy? Come back to TO!

I'm feeling really good today - probably because it's sunny out for a change. I don't know why anyone here would need to consult the Weather Network. Just watch Deb. If she's walking around looking like she's either going to burst into tears or kick something, then it'll be grey and rainy. If she's all jolly and friendly and wants to be your best friend, then it's sunny out. See? Easy.

Chz - Happy Birthday!!! (in case I forget next week). I lost your email AGAIN. Write to me if you're in need of amusement ;)

Okay, maybe I should do that work thing they like me doing here.

*DDR = Deb's Daily Ramblings

2003-11-24T07:02:00.000-05:00

This rocks *waaaay* more than meeting the wrestler guy. Offspring are one of my favourite bands :) I'm going to take the small blonde dude, as he is an Offspring freak and it's all ages. A small club show. Free. Offspring. Oh man, this week's starting out great! I can't wait for Mike to wake up so I can tell him.

>Subject: The Offspring in Toronto - Congratulations!
From: Justin Xxxxx
To:

By being one of the first 75 people to email us you've won a pair of
tickets to a very special small show in Toronto. Here are the details:

<.snip>

8:00 PM Doors

All Ages Show

Your name will be on the "winners" guest list at the entrance. You must
show a photo ID that includes the name your tickets were requested under.

Enjoy the show!

2003-11-21T07:43:00.000-05:00

I have a message in my inbox from "doralee" with the subject of "Surprise your loved one with a thicker penis".

Surprise, indeed. Horribly traumatized might work too.

2003-11-20T14:18:00.000-05:00

I could fall asleep on my desk right now.

2003-11-19T11:20:00.000-05:00

Randomness:

Party is a noun, not a verb.

I think my personal definition of hell would be going on a cruise. I can't imagine being stuck on a boat with no way out. I'm sure everyone on board would irritate the hell out of me within a day and the forced cheerfulness would make me skulk around, scowling and make me shut myself in my room to sulk. I can't imagine people actually spend large amounts of cash to go on these hell-bound floating resorts.

Resorts also piss me off. I hate disneyfication. I would hate to be in a 3rd world country where people starve regularly and sell organs to survive while fat-ass white folk like me drink endless pina coladas on a private beach and eat more food in a day than locals probably eat in a month. I don't want to meet "a nice couple from Ohio" on my holiday. I don't usually want to meet *anyone* on a holiday, except for casual contact with locals from wherever I am and my travel mate(s). And even then...

I'm starting to lose weight. Maybe that explains my crabbiness. Or the grey November rain. Or that my shoes hurt. Or that people are morons. I'm not quite sure which one is tops right now.

/me walks away hugging her black cloud.

2003-11-18T14:27:00.000-05:00

Will it ever stop raining? It's grossly grey outside, making me grossly grey inside.

I'm feeling frustrated right now, but I'm not entirely certain with what. Sometimes it seems like everything is like pulling teeth. Talking to someone who, no matter how many times you repeat yourself and how many ways you try and phrase a thought, still doesn't understand and just jumps to their own conclusion. It's painful trying to be understood and knowing full well that you're not getting through. I'm frustrated with this feeling of not belonging anywhere. I'm frustrated that I don't seem to get through to anyone, that I feel mute. I have people that I know care about me, yet I don't know that they really even know me to care about. They care about their assumed version of me, not the real thing. And that's frustrating. I feel like screaming and screaming sometimes, just to try and make the world hear me. Is it that I can't figure out the way to communicate *me* to people? Maybe it is. But a lot of times it feels like others just make assumptions and put them on me, clothing me in an outfit that doesn't fit me. I am not great, I am not cool, I am not typical, I am a complete contradiction at times. I've been learning to accept that me, as me, is okay. That I can be 20 different opposing things at once. That I can be a dweeb and a cool chick at the same time. I know my views on many things in life are different than what's the accepted norm, even the accepted anti-norm. I try really hard to express the complexity of my thoughts to those around me, but I never feel that they fully understand. I'm so frustrated at not being seen.

I'm sure anyone reading this thinks I'm being whiny and accusatory. And maybe I am. But again, I feel like I'm just expressing the feeling I have, not making a judgement based on it. It seems like so many things we say get lumped into a category, such as "putting herself down" when I say I'm fat, or "thinking she's superior" when I say that I'm intelligent. But I just think of those things as things that exist, much like a bird on a tree or a book in a library. They just are there. I'm not being whiny today, just trying to figure out why I constantly feel frustrated and no one seems to get it. It's not that I'm "against society" and think that no one understands me, some malcontent. I am part of society and some common beliefs and thoughts are ones I share. But I know that in many other ways, I just see things in a way that few others seem to comprehend. And that's really fucking lonely.

I've always been this way. When I was a kid, I remember feeling just-outside things. It was as if everyone spoke another language that I could speak well enough to not stand out, but could never understand really. I tried for so many years to figure out what it was that I was missing, because I always assumed it *was* me that was missing something. I tried different roles and values, trying to figure out how to break the code and feel a part of things. It's taken me til now to start to realize that I'm never going to figure it out, that this is the way I am and for whatever reason I think far more openly (for lack of a better word) than most people do. In any self-help book or psychology article or what-have-you, it's deemed a virtue to be open-minded and not trapped in stereotypes or accepted norms, but in real life, it's not so. Even those praising the concept of "living your own life on your own terms" are conforming to a set standard view.

I know who I am more than most people, and I don't know me at all. I still can't figure out what it is about my brain that makes me feel so much of an outsider. It's not intentional, I don't think of it as something that's "cool". It's so incredibly lonely, but it is there. It's always been there.

I don't know what I want. I guess I want someone close to me that can relate to the way I view life. They don't have to agree with everything, but just relate and be able to understand it. I don't want to feel that I have to hide parts of me to get their approval, but yet, I do. If I dare show myself to them fully, there's always something they reject it seems. And then I shrivel up into a dried rose and never open up again.

2003-11-14T17:05:00.000-05:00

long2 ( P ) Pronunciation Key (lông, lng)
intr.v. longed, long·ing, longs
To have an earnest, heartfelt desire, especially for something beyond reach.

Yeah.... that's it alright.

*sigh*

2003-11-14T13:24:00.000-05:00

Deb's random thoughts of the day:

Got a bit drunk last night at our office "celebration" to observe the implementation of the first part of this project. Champagne and cheese, all around!! Probably not a good career move: my VP was talking to *her* boss and called me over and said "tell him what you call me", to which I replied "to your face or not?". I *think* she has a good sense of humour.... I'm hoping she does...

For some weird reason on the subway this morning the phrase "Babies with Rabies" came to my head and I immediately thought "what a great name for a band!!". Now I guess I just need to learn an instrument.

It's snowing.

I'm alternating between listening to the black dogs howl at me and feeling giddy. I'm starting to wonder if I'm bipolar. What *are* the symptoms?

I feel like I'm on the verge of... *something*. I don't know what. I feel like I'm in a holding pattern and the control tower will call me shortly. I really don't know what, but it just feels like I'm heading into a new zone. I hope it's decorated a lot better than the zone I'm currently in.

I'm sick of being fat. I hate the weight loss industry which basically gets rich off of telling women they're undesirable because they're fat. But I feel undesirable because I'm fat. Does that make any sense?

My office smells like jet fuel. I'm not entirely sure why.

Dana? Are you there?

I am having wicked thoughts of Scoot and Sassy right now. Not easy to work under these conditions. I wonder how much it costs to go to Milwaukee.

I had to go to a "focus" meeting two days ago here at work. I have ADHD, so focus isn't really a word I'm comfortable with. It was in a huge old boardroom in another tower - one of the first skyscrapers in Toronto, built in the early 1900's. I "focussed" on the beautiful tin ceiling and wood trim. I'm hoping that counts.

God, Xmas is only just over a month away. I'm sure the depression from that will be hitting me shortly.

I can't think right now - looking out the window at the Gardiner seems to be all my brain is currently capable of. I think it's the jet fuel.

2003-11-12T09:57:00.000-05:00

Blondebitch.net is back up and running (with a few minor glitches). Not much changes - more links, the cam page will actually be updated, new colours, fonts, content... It's nice to be back online :)

2003-11-10T14:13:00.000-05:00

So Prince Charles reportedly had an encounter with one of his aides. A male aide. The courts in England have barred the media from reporting the exact allegations. The newspapers are rife with quotes saying that this could bring down the monarchy. Because Prince Charles might be bisexual or gay.

This is the same Prince that had an ongoing affair with a woman during his marriage and had been taped declaring that he wanted to be her tampon. But *that* won't bring down the monarchy. That gets a few giggles and tsk tsks, but he doesn't bear any real long term consequence for that. But to have had sexual contact with another man???? Well, that's so shameful and scandalous that for sure an institution that has survived many sexual peculiarities (see Henry VIII) would definitely come crashing down forever to find out that the Crown Prince had sex with someone of the same gender.

How fucked up is that? Since when did gayness or bisexuality mean you'd lost your mind? It bothers me to no end that any reference to same sex relations is seen as beyond comprehension, immoral and horrific and that any accusation of such needs to be vehemently denied, whether it's true or not.

I would bet that if the Prince had accidentally killed an innocent bystander during a fox hunt, no one would be declaring the end of the monarchy. But consensual sex with another adult? Yes, well that's *different*.

Who the hell cares who he sleeps with? He can fuck a whole village of Pygmi elders if they all are into it, for all I care. What does that matter at all to anything? Who cares who *anyone* sleeps with as long as both (or all) parties are consenting and adults?

It's just so fucking insane. People love to say it's much better now to be gay or "out of the closet" and yet things like this show you that it's still regarded as heavily deviant and bad. And then people wonder why the suicide rate of gay and bisexual teens is higher than average. "Be yourself" everyone cries, "don't be afraid to be proud of who you are". Then wait for your sexuality to be the only thing people think about when your name is mentioned.

How fucking sad.

2003-11-05T20:12:00.000-05:00

White knights are actually just control freaks. It's just far more acceptable socially to be the "nice guy". Not to say being nice is bad, it's not. Not when the person is trying to help, but not taking control of the situation. "White knights" are just trying to control the outcome of a situation. Instead of doing it through threat or abuse, it's through "niceness". But it's still the same - making decisions for others based upon their own needs, not yours.

God save me from white knights.

2003-11-05T17:14:00.000-05:00

Blonde and Blue
Troubled and misused
Living without you
My heart is yours
Nothing lasts forever
We'll always be together
Nothing lasts forever
My heart is yours

2003-11-05T14:15:00.000-05:00

In yet another pointless meeting this morning, I made a list of people that I need to email, to get back in touch with. I've been a lousy friend and hope to hell everyone can forgive me for my withdrawal and silence. It's funny how I feel awful, abandoned and uncared for because people don't email me as much as they once did and yet, what am I doing? Making them feel the same way by not keeping in touch. Funny how we can see behaviours towards us in far different light than ones we direct outward. So again, I'm really sorry and hope that if I owe you an email or anything you don't hate me.

I'm suffering from black dog howling again. I'm hoping that maybe some of it is SAD related, that a few hours under my full spectrum light at home will cheer me back up. As is the typical crap for me, I'm feeling completely alone and deservingly so and how do I respond? By withdrawing from the world. Can you say paradox? Oy. I *must* make the effort. I have to. I love all my friends so very very much. I just hope they haven't completely given up on me. Wouldn't say I blame them if that was the case, but it would really sadden me. I know so many wonderful people.

I feel very bleak today. Everything seems so pointless. When was the last time I *wasn't* depressed? Do I just feed on it? Maybe I'm approaching this all wrong. I want to change the way I see things. I want to feel less helpless, less like I've given up. I need to make my life interesting again. I need to get back into my photography, my writing. Time is my enemy. I have so little free time these days and when I manage to get some time to myself, I usually just end up in front of the computer, relaxing, playing, etc. The last thing I want during those times is to push myself to do anything. I push myself all day it seems.

So I'm here in my lonely bullshit, trying to find the key to make it all feel better. I miss having a social life. I miss having a variety of close friends to talk to. I need to get off my ass and get back in touch. I just hope they can all forgive me.

2003-11-03T17:11:00.000-05:00

Deb's mutterings du jour:

I nearly peed myself at lunch when I was browsing through Coles in Commerce Court and saw that they had filed Hunter S. Thompson's Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas in the self-help section.

If I hear the term "managing expectations" one more time in a meeting I'm gonna hit the speaker of such term with a clue bat.

When I say something is "suicide", I don't mean I *want* to commit suicide. I mean that it is the literal interpretation of that word - killing of the self, i.e. ultimately destroying. Steve, stop worrying, k? I ain't about to off myself :)

I am PMSing right now and am not sure if I would rather cry or scream. Hormones suck.

I owe so many people email. If you're one of them, I'm so so sorry and hope you don't take it personally. Work has become a gruelling schedule of 15 hour days and Saturday and Sunday have become regular work days. I now get deadlines of "end of day Sunday" for documents. WTF is that? I keep thinking it'll end soon, but I've been thinking that for 2 months now. We're all burned out here and starting to voice our frustrations. Maybe, hopefully, someone will listen.

I was told I am a Divergent Learner. I always wondered why I can't do things methodically and to a plan, but tend to wander my brain all over a subject. I didn't know there was a name for it besides "lazy and unmotivated" that I was told I was in school.

I don't understand why anyone says one thing about how they're feeling and yet acts entirely differently. It doesn't occur to me to try and pretend that things are okay when they're not. It confuses the fuck out of me when someone does it to me, as I take people at their word, assuming that if they say they feel a certain way, that's the way they're feeling, not that it's what they want to be feeling, or what they just are saying to avoid a hassle. It fucks with my head more than any unpleasant truth ever could.

I wonder if it's going to rain the entire month of November. So far we're batting .1000.

Now back to use case hell.

2003-11-03T08:14:00.000-05:00

Absolutely the very best way to start off a marriage is with one of these. Lifelong committed partnerships are *always* better with lies and deception!

Please please tell me that's a joke, right? RIGHT??

2003-11-02T20:11:00.000-05:00

I was chatting with Manservant Steve today about life. As always, he pointed out how "un-girl" I am in many ways. One thing he said, which I'd never thought of, is that I get angry and that's very un-girl. He said, in his experience, many women don't just get angry, but vengeful and bitter. They don't just get mad, vent it out and then close it off. I don't know how true that is, but I do know that I've known my fair share of vengeful and bitter women. I'm kind of glad he doesn't see me in that light, as I never thought of myself that way. I've never thought that feeling angry was a bad thing, or something to be ashamed of. I have no guilt when it comes to feeling anger, only that I don't always express it in the most useful form. I rant, rave, vent, swear and walk around with a black cloud. But then it ends, it's over and I don't carry it forward.

I guess, when I think about it, few women I know really are comfortable being angry. They can twist anger into playing "victim" or use it to manipulate someone, especially men. Turn the anger around to be "hurt" when it's really not. I know so many women who are afraid that it makes them unfeminine, that they should be calm, cool and collected at all times. It's not *nice* to be mad.

I guess I can't blame anyone for assuming that, upon hearing or seeing me angry, that they can conclude that it means that I'm hurting dreadfully, horrifically upset or wounded beyond compare. It's rarely that. I just get angry, let the rage out, vent until it all boils up to the surface and then cool down. I don't carry it with me nor do I carry grudges. I know that I sometimes react badly to things, as does everyone. I just figure everyone knows that anger doesn't mean anything except... I'm angry. I'm not always angry and it's just a feeling like any other I might have. I'm not sure why it's seen as such a horrible thing. As Cheeky once said, it's not like anger is the same as violence. So why do people react so strangely to it? Especially when you're female?

*sigh* I wonder sometimes if I'll ever figure out this whole thing.

2003-10-31T16:37:00.000-05:00

For the Costume Contest:

1st Place:
Dianne Carter (Bride)
2nd Place:
Deb G. (Wednesday Adams)
3rd Place:
Jeanette Thompson (Trinity/Matrix)

Dammit - I lost to a bride. Story of my life ;)

2003-10-31T13:16:00.000-05:00

How much do I wish I lived near Ogden, Utah and could go here? Gang bangers finding Jesus? How many ways can you interpret *that*? I think I saw a movie about that once on the Playboy channel.

Sheesh.

2003-10-31T11:48:00.000-05:00

I decided on Wednesday Addams for work today. Everyone keeps coming in to look. No one else is dressed up. Oh well.

2003-10-31T07:14:00.000-05:00

I want to email you to say that if and when you ever want to talk again, I'm here and willing and would like that. I miss you. I miss talking to you. I was hurt, yes, but that has never meant that I no longer wanted to know you. Hurt happens. It's never a reason alone for me wanting to discontinue knowing someone. Not when that hurt came from something that wasn't intentional.

But I'm scared to email you to tell you that it's up to you, that I'm willing to talk once again, that I want to keep knowing you. I'm scared of further rejection from you. I'm worried that I'll get an email telling me to fuck off, that I'm a fucked up psycho mess and that you have far better things to do than bother with a loser like me. I'm worried that you might not respond at all.

Most people don't like rejection. I think that for me, being rejected by someone whose opinion means something to me, who seems to understand the murkiness in my brain, who seems to accept me, is the ultimate agony. I can handle being rejected by those that don't understand, that see me in definitive terms and reject what they think I am, not what I really am. But when it feels like someone has accepted me for the walking contradiction I can be and then rejects me, it's suicide.

So I don't know. I don't know if you're still here. I don't know if you have any desire to talk to me again. I don't know if I'll find enough bravery to send you a quick note letting you know I'm still here if you want to get back in touch. I try not to let myself be ruled by my fears in life, and try not to make decisions based on fear, but this isn't just a fear, but something that can throw me deep down into the well and leave me there for ages to twist and turn in the darkness. I want to get over this rejection phobia, but so far I haven't been able to. I hate that it can rule me like it does.

I do miss you.

2003-10-30T13:08:00.000-05:00

More ramblings from Deb @ Lunch....

We went to see Tony Hawk's Boom Boom Huck Jam on Tuesday night. Gish, you missed a great show!! What is it about skateboard and BMX boys that make them so darn sexy. Well, *most* of them. Ronnie Faisst definitely is the exception that proves the rule to that thought. Last year we drove down to Detroit to see the show, so I was pretty happy they decided to make a Toronto stop this year. Bonus of the night - they start the show pretending that they can't find Tony Hawk. They decide to call him on his cell and bingo - he is in the audience. Well, not only was he in the audience, he was about four seats away from us. Mike almost fell over. I've never seen him so awed. His idol, here, in front of us, so close we could see his sweat. Being that he's tall and lanky, I didn't mind getting the close up view either :)

Boris is still watching me eat lunch. I wonder how long he'll stick around my window here until he realizes this is Toronto, not Torino, and it's bloody cold round these parts in November.

I'm trying to keep from falling into that black pit. I'm struggling but hoping it'll pass. I'm bored with my life and autumn has always made me melancholy. Seeing everything turn grey and die knowing full well it'll be half a year until signs of life exist outdoors. Toronto is so dull. I need a change, but I know it won't be coming anytime soon. Maybe it's not Toronto. Maybe it's me.

The internet is a good place. An officemate called her travel agent to get a flight to Italy at Xmas to see her kids. He quoted her $3000. A few minutes on Expedia and I got her there for $1000 less. She keeps telling me she loves me. She bought me danishes. I am forever using this example for one of my many "technology is your friend" geek speeches to analog friends.

I miss Dana so very very much.

Back to life and reality. Blech.

2003-10-27T19:28:00.000-05:00

Subject: Pizza Pizza Winner!
To: [blondebitch]

You recently entered our "Pizza Pizza Meet N'Greet A WWE Superstar" Contest at Playdium. As a result, you have one Four tickets to attend the Meet N'Greet session with WWE superstar BOOKER T on Friday, November 7, 2003. Your prize includes 4 two hour Playdium Playcards, one WWE T-Shirt and a Pizza Pizza coupon for one large three topping pizza.

I will be emailing a declaration and release form for legal purposes soon. This form must be mailed, faxed, or emailed back to me no later then Wednesday, October 29, 2003 at 4PM. If you wish to receive this form via fax, please provide me with a fax number.

If you do not wish to accept this prize or cannot attend the meet and greet please email me back stating the fact.

Thank you and congrats again!

Michael Topalian, Marketing
Pizza Pizza Ltd.
580 Jarvis Street

Cool.... I won me a wrestler.....

2003-10-27T12:10:00.000-05:00

Randomness.

There is a spider that has set up house on the window directly next to my desk here at work. He's about an inch around and I'm calling him Boris. He lives on the outside of the window so luckily he's not about to be splattered out of existence from the whomping high heel of my officemate. I'm not quite sure why he's decided to make his home up here, 12 floors above streetlevel, but I like to watch him. He's caught one flying beast this morning already, but he hasn't seemed to notice. My officemates are horrified by him. I think he just realized that a kindred soul lived on the other side of the glass. I've always liked spiders.

I'm burned out emotionally and physically. Big surprise, huh? I want to sleep all day and the greyness of Ontario autumn is certainly not helping that.

I saw Kali yesterday. Many many things coming out from the stinky depths of my psyche. For years I knew that I needed a counsellor, that I needed to delve through all the muck in my brain, but could never find anyone that I remotely meshed with. Then I met Kali. I don't know how I could've gotten through the last couple of years without her. I can honestly feel that I am making my way down the path to a place that is far more resolved and comfortable than where I've been my entire life. It's been a very painful journey and not easy, but the rewards are coming, albeit slowly. I was talking to a friend last night about counselling and he mentioned how strong I am to have gone down this path of self-analysis and facing the pain that's plagued me forever. I don't think it's strength per se. I think it's more of a tenacity. I've always known I needed help, that I was emotionally unhealthy, that I was self-sabotaging, but I never could find someone to help me figure it all out. But I never thought that I could just ignore it. I wanted to get better and was willing to put the work into it, if only I could find someone to help me. Thank god I found Kali for that. I know many people who recognize their issues and realize that they need help, but run away at the first sign of it being uncomfortable. I don't get that. To me this is like having a broken arm and then trying to ignore it. You know it's broken, you know that if you turn it certain ways it'll hurt. I guess you could hope it heals itself in time, and just ignore and become numb to the occasional reminder of how the bone hasn't set properly, but wouldn't it make more sense and be more desirable to see a doctor, get the bone set correctly even if it involves some pain just to know that it will heal itself properly in the end? Why is it different when it comes to emotional issues? The pain can be excrutiating, but it goes away and it's not unbearable. I don't understand how many people can walk around with that figurative broken arm for years.

I'm lost at work. The project is chaotic with little to no information flowing back and forth. Right now I have no idea what I should be doing. I keep getting thrown into situations to "put out fires" and never spend enough time in any one area to get a sense of what's needed once the fire is put out. I'm floundering and I hate that. I'm losing concentration and motivation and just feel bleak.

I really really want to move to New York for a year. I need to escape Toronto for a while. I need to run away, not from me, but for me. I want to start fresh somewhere else, at least for a bit. I want the excitement of being in a new situation, away from the rut of everyday life. I want to learn how to live somewhere that I'm not accustomed to. I want excitement, dammit. I'm so fucking bored with my life. I wish I could do the Oprah thing and say "I'm going to CHANGE IT", but I'm not. I'm too far in for that right now. I have too many obligations to get up and change dramatically. I don't have energy to wash my socks lately, so suddenly becoming a whole new person seems exhausting. I just need a change of scenery.

I wonder if I'll ever not feel completely and utterly alone and misunderstood.

And now, lunch.

2003-10-25T15:05:00.000-04:00

Fucking black dogs won't leave me alone. I have little urge to do anything but curl into a tight ball right now and go numb. I want to be emotionally numb. I want to stop thinking. I want to stop the constant ache. It's all too much. Will it ever be okay? How does it ever end? How can I make this stop?

Please tell me. The silence is unbearable.

2003-10-24T07:06:00.000-04:00

So Dalton McGuinty is our new premier. I'm not going to get into a political discussion here about him. But why, in every picture I've ever seen of him, do his dress shirts not fit? The neck always looks way too big. Could the Liberals not afford a tailor? Or is it the open-button-at-top "working man" look, as if he's far too busy changing the world for the better as to think about doing up his top button. The slightly casual baggy dress of someone who's too concerned about doing good to worry about appearance. It seems pretty crafted and that irritates me. And for some reason, he also reminds me of Dana's ex-husband. The squinty eyes, maybe? There's just something really really annoying and fake about him and now I get to look at him for the next five years.

2003-10-23T23:30:00.000-04:00

I certainly hope Coffee remembers the significance of this weekend and gives me chocolate. And his girlfriend ;)

2003-10-22T09:44:00.000-04:00

Can you have love without acceptance?

2003-10-20T18:18:00.000-04:00

My moods rise and fall faster than the old Flyer at the Ex. One minute I'm okay, happy enough, content and then the next, I'm low, the pit of my stomach churns and I slump over, feeling the weight of life on my back. Some days I wonder why I am this way. Is it biological? Environmental? All I know is that depression has been a constant in my life since I was little.

I got a handout today with a speech in it given by our Chairman to the Senate Subcommittee on Mental Health. He goes on in it about how the bank has put "innovative programs" in place to help "balance work/life" and therefore helps its employees from getting and staying depressed. No clue. If you don't have depression, you have no clue. Depression isn't stress, although stress will aggravate it. It's a feeling of despair, of bleakness, of hopelessness. Work/life has nothing to do with that. Shit, I suffered from depression as a kid, when there was no work/life balance. Just another corporate surface gesture to show "we care for our employees". Yeah, sure. So if I didn't come in for a week because just getting out of bed was such a huge chore for me and all I wanted was to curl into a ball and go numb, that'd be okay, right? Wrong. The world still sees mental health as something that's not a valid sickness. I could have a broken leg and stay home for a month and probably get sent flowers by well wishing co-workers. But if my brain conspires against me, repeating all the self-doubts and self-criticism until I feel that I can hardly breathe, nevermind think, well then I should pull up my socks and get on with it. It's as if depression is something you claim to suffer from just so you can slack off and get sympathy. It's a weakness and admitting to it would be career suicide. Yet it probably affects work performance more than any broken bone could.

I don't know if I should think "well, at least he's mentioning the issue" and hope that maybe in time people will become more comfortable with the whole realm of mood disorders, making it no more a moral issue than diabetes. But I don't. I just think that yet again, I have to hide myself from my co-workers, never letting on that the happy girl sitting behind the desk feels like her guts are melting and her brain is spinning. I can let them know when I have a cold, but I can't let them know when my brain is shutting down, turning every thought and feeling into self-hatred and immobilizing me. I have to go on, pretending that everything's "just great" and trying to silence the constant nagging thoughts of how much of a fuck up I am in life.

2003-10-20T13:34:00.000-04:00

Where are we going and why are we in this handbasket?

2003-10-20T12:22:00.000-04:00

Funny that you asked me about the tag line of mine up above of "My Life, Such As It Is". That's been there through the whole blog, if you remember from before - I just removed the link to my (now under construction) homepage which used to be with it. With the new layout, it's more obvious. It's from the theme song to "John Callahan's Quads", which is on Teletoon. I love that song - I wish I could find an mp3 of it, but sadly, I've never been able to.

2003-10-20T07:54:00.000-04:00

I just found out my firewall has been eating a lot of my email. Back to geek central for a fix.....

2003-10-20T07:45:00.000-04:00

Swept up the cobwebs in the blog and gave it a whole new scheme. Wouldn't Debbie Travis be proud? :)

2003-10-18T23:18:00.000-04:00

what have I become?
my sweetest friend
everyone I know
goes away in the end
you could have it all
my empire of dirt
I will let you down
I will make you hurt

2003-10-17T01:26:00.000-04:00

One other thing...

You never knew me. You just assumed a million things about me from your past experiences with people who don't remotely resemble me. You had no idea really what I wanted, who I was or what I could be. You couldn't be bothered to find out. You assumed a lot and never thought to find out what was real. You dismissed me for the crime of having baggage. I have notes from you from not more than two weeks ago where you completely profess to be feeling the exact opposite to what you now say. But you think you're starting afresh. You think "this time it's different". Have you not read your writings of the past year to see it's all the same? But you don't want to hear that. It's *got* to be different this time, doesn't it. Even though only *three* weeks ago, you were head over heels with someone else.

But what the fuck do I know. Nothing.

I just didn't think you'd throw me away. Is nothing more painful than feeling that you never mattered?

I thought you, of all people, would understand that.

I just can't fathom why you've cut me out so completely, so suddenly. No closure, no in-person chat. Do I mean that little to you?

I wasn't madly in love with you, but shit I liked you. I thought you liked me. Now I feel like I was just something to occupy your time between crazy loves. I didn't know that. I didn't think that's what you wanted from me. It wasn't what I wanted at all.

I know you think for sure, this new one is "the one". Funny how you can decide a person's suitable for the rest of your life within weeks. How? Because she's not afraid of getting heavily involved right off the bat? Shouldn't that be a warning sign? That maybe *she* doesn't care about you as much as she just wants a warm body to fill a void in *her* life? Is that all you want to be to someone? Is that all you think you deserve? Is it that she's willing to play the role you want her to play? Hell, that you want *someone* to play in your life?

Do you want her to save you from you? How can it be *her* after a few phone calls and emails. Sure, intrigue is a wonderful thing, but to go from "I have to take a break from all this" to "I'm completely ready to give up my life for this person" in less than a month is seriously frightening.

I can't tell you anything. It all sounds like sour grapes. But one thing I can tell you is that because we took the time to get to know each other without pressure, I actually grew to like *you*. But for some reason, to you that's not valid. It's only valid if you meet someone who is as desperate as you to get to that finish line. To take the pain away from you as being alone makes you think of things that hurt. And you seem to think that serial intense "love" experiences will somehow heal that hurt.

It hurts that you seem to think the only women worth caring for are the ones that have "wife potential". And that's something you decide when you probably don't even know their middle name yet. How the hell can that exist? It's not a person you want, but an object to amuse you and take you away from your reality. How that can be a romantic and wonderful thing in the long run is something I don't understand.

Yeah, I sound angry. I'm hurting more than anything that you, of all people *you*, wouldn't understand how this feels from this end.

I'm not moping over this, but I have learned that I have to face hurt and pain and let it out, let myself feel it and let it lose it's power. I wish to god things could've been different. But you're not looking for a partner it seems, but running away from yourself. But who cares what I think. You've convinced yourself that this time is different. I just don't know how it can be when the issues are still the same.

I'm sure if you still are there reading this that you no longer want to talk to me. I'm sure you're angry as hell at me. You're not going to listen to me and you're going down the same path you've been down so many times before. It just baffles me that suddenly you're ready to start anew when a few weeks ago you were completely opposite. And don't tell me it's because you met "the right person". How can anyone know who is right or wrong within that short a time.

All you're doing is running from something. It won't be until you start running towards something that things will be different.

Although this note sounds angry, I don't wish bad things for you at all. I wish in some way we could put some closure on this, but it's not my call.

Whatever happens I won't say "I told you so". That's irrelevant. I'm sure you wish you'd never bothered to meet me. I'm sure I'm a thorn in your side now. You don't want my words, my thoughts, my advice. You want to follow your compulsions because it's easier than fighting them. It's amazing what you can convince yourself of when you want to.

I just am so saddened that the only criteria you're interested in is "potential wife". I am really sad that you never even bothered to find out what I wanted. I don't know that it would've made a difference anyways. I wonder if I'm too easy for you, too much like you, too easy going. I just have the feeling that you need someone who will give you a much harder time than I do to make you feel that it's a "real" relationship.

I don't know. I just don't. I don't know why you stopped talking to me. I don't know why you changed so dramatically within a few weeks. I know I've heard this from you before, but you'll dismiss that as me being jealous or something equally wrong. I just wish you could get the guts to step back and look at things. I wish to god you could stop looking for *her*.

Again I'm left out in the cold, having someone tell me that they like everything about me, yet for some reason, they can't have a relationship with me. You said that I should act like I deserve love? Well how don't I? Should I not have gotten as intimate with you as I did? Would that have told you "this girl deserves respect and love"? Why should that matter? As for "no strings attached", there always *will* be strings if you get involved with someone you have an emotional tie with. But I think you've gotten the wrong message. All I wanted was a fair chance to see what would happen. One week isn't really that, is it? But I guess because I'm not "settling down" material, because I've done that once before (apparently you only get one shot...), I wasn't even considered. Fuck that's brutal.

Anyways, what does any of this matter. You're going to do what you're going to do and I wish to hell that somehow I could mean something more to you than just simply someone to talk to and know. I wish I had it in me to be different, to be more of what guys expect girls to be. This just cements it in my brain.

I do wish we could talk again, get some closure or something, but your focus isn't me now.

Fuck I don't even know what to say anymore.

2003-10-17T00:48:00.000-04:00

Feeling let down by someone you trust is bad enough, but being abandoned by them is brutal.

I can't do this anymore. I feel completely worthless. It's me. It has to be. I know it is.

There's just something about me that makes me inherently unlovable.

I can't do this again. I can't.

Fuck I'm sick of being everyone's fucking "wonderful friend and buddy" just to never get any of the goods.

Fuck it all.

Fuck me and fuck you.

2003-10-16T23:45:00.000-04:00

I always thought when I was younger that the older I got, the easier life would become. I just thought somehow that I'd find the answers. I thought that I'd settle down and do the whole "adult" thing. I'd be happy, married, a mom, have a house and life would be set. There'd be no more anxiety, no more self-doubt, I'd have the answers.

Fuck I couldn't have been more wrong.

The older I get the more confusing life gets. Instead of things sliding off my back, they hurt more now. Year after year of hurt and pain didn't make me numb to it, it made me more sensitive to it. I sometimes wonder when I'll break.

I used to get excited about things, but now everything seems grey. I know only too well that the peaks are few and the valleys getting longer and deeper the more I live. I used to have hope that life would work itself out, that the ongoing agony of living would ease. But it seems that the opposite happens.

I feel so utterly alone in the world. There is no magic pill to take to ease this. There is no quick cure, no event that can make it all better. I can't change me and I wish I could. I wish I could erase everything about me and start over. I wish I could be one of the mumbling poker-faced crowd I see each day. I want to be normal. I want to be a girl. I want to worry more about my hair and never analyze myself or others. I want to be caught up in what celebrities are doing and not even know that there's more to me than what diet plan I'm on. Intelligence is lethal. You can't escape it. It makes you mad. You see the world so entirely differently than everyone else and your sense of isolation deepens.

I can't stop being me and therefore I can't stop this. I can't do it. I just can't do it. But I would sell my soul for an hour of blissful stupidity. I can't escape me. I have tried so many ways to do that in the past, and yet, I still am here, still am lonely, still feel hopeless. The scars just get deeper as I get older.

I want off this ride, I'm so tired of it.

2003-10-16T11:56:00.000-04:00

Silence like a cancer grows.

2003-10-15T21:08:00.000-04:00

My head's full of thoughts, but I'm not sure if I can vet them here. But where else do I have? It's like giving birth, pushing the pulsating mass out my body to see the shape it takes. I always said this blog was for me and my thoughts and that I don't consider who reads it and I want to keep it that way. I don't know if that's the smartest thing.

I don't think like normal people. My world is so very grey as opposed to black and white. I can't see things as being either/or. I guess I don't understand how things have to be categorized, aligned neatly into rows and never be a mix. You made up your mind long before that I fit into a certain row. There's nothing I can say or do to have you consider me in a different row, a different way. It seems that there's only two rows for you - permanent and non-permanent. Although considering the subject at hand, it still baffles me as there are so many other categories that exist, or can exist. I don't understand how you could say it could never have been. Unless you're clairvoyant, how do you know? Not to say it would, but how can you foresee the future? Unless you are so uncomfortable with the idea of the future being unpredictable, that you decide to opt for something you're familiar with, even if in the past you haven't liked it. The devil you know.

I ache because I feel that I was never seen, that I was invisible in some way because of some random criteria. I wonder, if you had thought your whole life you wanted a red car with certain features, and then when you weren't actively searching for one, you came across a yellow car that had all the features you wanted and at a price you couldn't beat, would you still turn it away because it wasn't red? It seems that because I'm yellow and clash with your future plans, I have to be forgotten and discarded because I'm just not red. It seems like the criteria exists regardless of the person. Finding the person to fit into that spot becomes a quest to fill a vacancy using statistical criteria. Humanity doesn't touch it. It seems as though you didn't see "Deb" but that yellow car.

You wonder if this is a rejection. Hell yes, it is. How can it not be? How can being passed up for something that may never even exist not be rejection? Maybe if I knew you had found a perfect red car and now the dealer had written down the price to the point where you really felt it was the perfect model for you, I could understand it. But not when you've only driven by the showroom.

I guess what also bothers me is that it feels like you've made all the decisions on your own. Did I figure into any of them? I mean in a real way, did *I* figure into them. Or just a composite of assumptions from past experience. Were you just looking for reasons not to get close? Were you looking for reasons to reject me so that you can continue on your path of band aid solutions? You know as well as I do that your reasons you're doing what you are doing are less than stellar. I don't quite understand how you can *know* you're hurting yourself, and others, and just keep going on with it. I just don't get it.

The pain I feel isn't necessarily a reflection entirely on you and our brief history together. But it is frustrating as hell to see something that had no apparent negatives, besides a random reason that was never even discussed (and why would it at this stage?) and frustration and anger at having something decided for me without feedback solicited in advance.

I know you think that you "erred in judgement" but I don't think it''s quite that simple. I don't doubt that you didn't intend for this to happen. I have no doubt that you never wanted me to be hurt. I don't hate you, I'm hardly even angry at you. I am hurting though at being second best to you, especially to someone you've never even met. I'm hurting at the rejection and the lack of discussion. I'm hurting because in email I stated my point of view about all this and had you reply in agreement with me. I thought we were onside. I thought I was clear about how I saw things - that it wasn't something that could be easily categorized, that the future was fuzzy at best for both of us, but that there didn't seem to be any really good reason to think that it couldn't become clearer as time passed.

I don't think you understand where I'm coming from with this. There is no nice little box to put this in. You can tell yourself that it was simply a misunderstanding, and to some degree that could be true. But that's not entirely it. You can call a sparrow an elephant, but that doesn't *make* it an elephant. If it has wings and flies, you know it's not an elephant no matter what you wish it were.

Anyways, this might sound like I'm destroying myself over it all. I am hurting because something potentially good was never given a chance to breathe and develop. I am hurting because of who I am and how we met, I was put into a pile of "not-potential". It feels so impersonal and detached. A strange set of criteria for some future dream that doesn't really exist. And I don't fit that criteria.

2003-10-15T19:58:00.000-04:00

The black dogs have announced their arrival and are now howling all around me.

2003-10-15T18:43:00.000-04:00

I am becoming increasingly convinced that many people are screamingly attracted to that which makes them miserable. There is no rhyme or reason to some things and that's hard for my logical brain to process.

I just wonder why it seems that there are a lot of people on this earth who can't see that what they want or need and what they *think* they want or need are completely opposite. Yet they constantly push away that which would ultimately fulfill them in search of some elusive fantasy that can never exist.

Life fucking sucks toilet water and today the toilet water is a rich brown.

2003-10-15T14:00:00.000-04:00

I'm just trying to sort through some stuff in my brain. Skip this if you don't want a trip down Deb's entrails.

I've spent a long time trying to sort through my life and figure out who I am, what my beliefs are. I don't know - am I right with what I believe? Why do I see things so very differently than the rest of the world, seemingly. Maybe I am wrong.

I'm sorting through a recent upset right now, trying to identify where the hurt comes from. Some of it is from the situation itself, from disappointment and feeling a bit bewildered. I'm sure a lot of it comes from issues in my past, the sense of always being not-good-enough, being rejected by someone whose acceptance is meaningful to me, feeling abandoned to a degree. And it's not the fault of the person directly involved in this, but those are feelings that come to the surface and swallow me whole, making me unable to see past them. For most of my life, I viewed love as something that I needed to work for, that love and affection that came without effort on my part of obtain wasn't as sweet as that which I had to sweat for. I have always been deeply suspicious of anyone that claimed to care about me unconditionally. I wondered when they would slip up, when they would betray me. I wondered what the hell was wrong with them that they would actually like me, nevermind love me without restrictions or conditions. I pushed it away many times in favour of someone who was unavailable. I had to prove to myself that I could obtain that which wasn't obtainable from them, to win them over. I had to give and give and give until they could throw me a speck of affection. And then I'd greedily gobble it up and happily play the game again until I got the next morsel. If I didn't sacrifice myself in some way, it wasn't real or good.

I'm still of that mindset to some degree. I have trouble fully believing anyone could like me. When affection comes my way I grab onto it and at the same time just wait for it to be yanked out of my hands. I don't believe it could ever stay without me having to do something for it. I'm starting to realize that there are people that like me as I am, who won't make me dance for the treat and the sensation of that realization is overwhelming and frightening, yet so incredibly warm and wonderful. But I still yet don't fully trust it. I'm terrified that if I get too close and it gets pulled away from me, I'll fall and keep falling until I wind up hitting the ground at full force. Easier to never climb that high because the fall is less likely to kill me. Unfortunately that also means I never get to really admire the great view from the top.

I've gotten better since my youth at accepting love. Someone said to me today that I should act like I deserve to be loved. I'm really puzzled by that because I don't know what it means. I admit that in the past, I've kept my mouth shut when I shouldn't have and accepted crappy behaviour in order to maintain the status quo or to keep someone by my side. I don't know that I do that so much anymore. I'm more likely to speak up when something's bothering me. I don't get upset about every little thing, but that's my personality. I've always seen everything in a "big picture" kind of way and I understand that life never runs smoothly for anyone, so I'm not going to give someone grief over everything that might upset me. I do fear that's my downfall, being too low-maintenance. The squeaky wheel gets the oil. But what if I don't want to be a squeaky wheel? What if I'm just naturally low-maintenance? Do I become something I'm not just so I can get the attention? Do I give people hard times over things that, in my mind, aren't really that huge of a deal? Am I deluding myself? Am I really that pathetic?

I'm feeling confused right now. I can accept things I don't like when they make sense. But I can't make any sense over this and that's the hardest thing.

2003-10-15T12:11:00.000-04:00

It's no use. I give up. I can't change the world. I can tell the world that the emperor's not wearing clothes until I lose my voice from shouting it so much, but in the end, the world still thinks he's dressed in regal robes.

2003-10-14T16:17:00.000-04:00

Why does something so beautiful have to be so frustrating?

2003-10-14T14:35:00.000-04:00

There is a sweet vindictive feeling knowing that your workplace has an absolute perfect, well-paying position that someone who has betrayed you badly would die for, and not only that, you have a personal contact with the Director of that area. I'm not a bitter person or vengeful, but there is sweet satisfaction in thinking that you hold in your hand something that the other person would love to have and because of past behaviour, will never have a chance to get.

2003-10-14T09:19:00.000-04:00

BACK ON THE CHAIN GANG
(Chrissie Hynde)
THE PRETENDERS - 1982

I found a picture of you
What hijacked my world that night?
To a place in the past
We've been cast out of
Now we're back in the fight
We're back on the train yeah
Oh back on the chain gang

A circumstance beyond our control
The phone, TV and the News Of The World
Got in the house like a pigeon from hell
Threw sand in your eyes and descended like flies
Put us back on the train yeah
Back on the chain gang

The powers that be
That force us to live like we do
Bring me to my knees
When I see what they've done to you
But I'll die as I stand here today
Knowing that deep in my heart
They'll fall to ruin one day
For making us part

I found a picture of you
Those were the happiest days of my life
Like a break in the battle was your part
In the wretched life of a lonely heart
Now we're back on the train
oh back on the chain gang

2003-10-13T22:19:00.000-04:00

Too many days exist where I really don't know who the fuck I am. I feel like everything I do is an act of some sort. Everything is to appease those near me. Who am I? What about me is real? What do I believe? I feel blank. Is there a me? What about me is true? Is any of it? Am I just reacting to everything? Do I even have a personality?

2003-10-13T12:53:00.000-04:00

I've always felt I was hypersexual in many ways. I remember as a child being *really* into finding out about sex and stumbling across my dad's hardcore magazines tucked away deep in a drawer and being fascinated by seeing actual penetration. It amazed me and definitely turned my crank. I don't know that I ever really felt any guilt about sexual feelings, but I know that once I grew older, into my teen years, and started having boyfriends, I adopted some as I didn't want to be thought of as a "bad girl". When you're 14 or 15, you're heavily worried about what people think and/or say about you. I would act coy, pretend to be unwilling and needing convincing because that's what "good girls" did. My gut reaction was to try everything and I never felt any vestige of guilt or weirdness at that. I just thought that girls were supposed to act as if they didn't really like sex and that it was a duty of being in a relationship. I really was confused by that, and my boyfriends at the time also seemed to go with that mode, as teenage boys do. We were all shaped by our parents who drilled that double standard into our heads - girls don't, boys do. I don't know that I felt comfortable with my raging sexuality until I was in my early 20s. Even then, I still held back a lot until I was very comfortable with someone. The "good girl" thing doesn't die out just because you get older. I still would act a bit hesitant when first with someone, just because I didn't want to be thought of as a slut. It's funny, I *was* a slut - I was very sexual with many partners. But that isn't what's implied by that word. Slut tends to mean a woman who has random sex with partners she doesn't know well. I never had sex with anyone I didn't know to some degree. Usually friends-of-friends and the like. Not that I had relationships with all of them, far from it. Sometimes it would just be a one time event, but with no weirdness afterwards. I guess I was lucky for a variety of reasons - I never caught an STD, I never got pregnant and I never felt afterwards that my partner looked down on me. I still don't understand the whole idea of "waiting" to have sex with someone you find sexually appealing when they find you the same. What for? To prove that I'm not a cheap whore? I *know* I'm not. I know I never have picked up anyone in a bar and fucked them. I know that I haven't had sex with people I didn't want to have sex with. I knew going in that it wasn't necessarily the start of something great - I always thought that sex and relationships could exist on their own and that you could have a relationship that wasn't particularly intimate mixed with a sexual relationship that was intimate. I never felt weird about that - but the rest of the world sometimes did. I've been misled many times by guys who I slept with, and then wanted to continue some form of relationship with, either sexual or non-sexual, act all weird as if I suddenly had decided to become their Mrs. I had thought that the sex could still happen while the relationship developed and in time we'd figure out what we'd both want. Society doesn't raise people to think that way, I've discovered.

I don't know where my views on sex have come from. My mother is frigid and always pounded the "good girls don't" into our heads. I think it must be from my father, as Latvian culture doesn't seem to put such a big taboo on sex. He remembers that his cousin only had a mother, and no one knew who the father was, and it not being a big deal. That was in the 1930s. We have festivals where sex and sexual feelings are accepted as normal, such as "going to see the ferns blossom" during Jani which means basically going off into the forest to fuck. God knows I've gone to look for ferns at more than a few Jani festivals. Saunas are nude with both genders participating and sex is regarded as a normal part of life, nothing to feel guilt over. I seem far closer to my father in personality and viewpoint and as a result, was more guided by the Latvian side of my family than my mother's uptight British family. It's just too bad that in North America, ideas about sex have become so moralized, so designed to make people feel guilty at a normal reaction and urge.

I wonder sometimes if I've scared men off because I am sexual. I wonder if they're taken aback at it. I wonder if I'm deemed to be less "worthy" than a woman who puts up resistance, or who just barely participates, letting the man do all the work. If I were less adventurous and passionate, would that have made a difference in the quality of my relationships? Is there still that double standard lurking in men's psyches, unknown even to them? Have men felt bad because I easily take the lead in sex? And if so, is that my issue, or theirs?

2003-10-12T14:00:00.000-04:00

Lately every one of my conversations about making plans with anyone ends with the words "if I don't have to work". Ever since I took this job, I've worked overtime. I've worked each weekend to some degree and usually after hours during the week. I knew that there would be some extra hours required, but I didn't know it was a daily thing. I'm yet again sitting at the monitor, creating a spreadsheet so that we can keep going on Tuesday.

I never wanted to be a career chick. Some people are really interested in gaining power, prestige and income. I have to say that I'm not complaining about having moved up in the world, having started with basically a high school education and little else. I never thought about what I wanted to be, except employed. But I don't want my job to become my life and right now that's happening. I like what I'm doing right now - there *is* some pleasure in having enough authority to be able to make decisions that affect a whole project to some degree, but I'm also just plain tired of it. I toiled for years in low paying, low ranking positions and hated the lack of challenge they held. I want to use my brain and I'm doing that now. But why is that a trade-off in exchange for my life? A good, interesting job that pays me enough to live in Toronto fairly comfortably but in exchange they get to keep my life. If I went back to a job that had more regular hours and less responsibility, I'd have to give up a big chunk of salary and wouldn't be able to afford to live as I do, which isn't lavish, but comfortable. Why is it like this? I don't know anyone that doesn't work overtime these days. When I first started working, being asked to stay late or work on a weekend was treated as a big deal and an exception to the norm. Now people schedule me into Sunday meetings. It's just assumed that we all will work these hours if we want to keep our jobs. You can beg off a few times for "life reasons" but it can't be a habit or else you're deigned as less-than-dedicated. The problem is that I *am* less than dedicated. I don't want this to be my life, just my livelihood. I'm not curing cancer or making the world a better place to live in, I'm just implementing software for a bank. It's not something that I can feel tremendously passionate about.

I'm feeling bleak and grey today. I'm on edge and can't figure out if it's anger or pain I'm feeling. I'm so tired of everything in my life. I'm a whining stupid idiot who just can't seem to ever feel good about how lucky I am in life. And I know I am. I *do* have a good job despite no higher education, I do have friends, I don't have a terminal illness, I do have a great child. I feel like the biggest loser for complaining when there are many things to be grateful for in my life. But there's just an unknown *something* missing and it doesn't ever seem that I'll find out what it is. My life looks great on paper, but living in it is another story. I feel like I don't deserve anything good because I'm so *wrong* in everything and then I have the balls to complain about my inner turmoil when so many other people are suffering in such larger ways than I am.

Some days I just hate me and who I am and what I do.

2003-10-12T10:49:00.000-04:00

Today all I want to do is sit by myself and feel ugly and mean.

2003-10-12T00:05:00.000-04:00

I don't think you believe this, as I know I don't believe it for myself and we are a lot alike. But you are really fun to be with. Especially when you don't turn me in for hacking Pocket PCs.... ;)

2003-10-11T19:38:00.000-04:00

I wish I could relax. I'm always a bundle of anxiety, nerves and self-consciousness. I fool everyone. I look polished at work, confident in speech and mannerisms. I seem cool and in control around my friends, always the rock, never wanting anyone to worry about me. I want to be my horrible introverted terrified self around those I care about, and I can't. I *know* I will drive them away if I do that. Yeah, okay so the logical side of me thinks that there might be a few people in my life that won't run too far if I show my vulnerability, my excess fear of rejection and abandonment, but my emotional side just laughs at that, convinced that anyone that really saw me as I feel inside most times would run screaming in the opposite direction. And rightfully so.

I'm not miserable, but I'm never happy. I can intellectualize so much about why that is as it is, but emotionally I'm still a six year old terrified of being left alone in a corner, rejected by those she trusted. I want to trust, hell I *need* to trust and yet, because of my own terror, it's almost next to impossible on any continuous basis. And I hate that. I have people in my life I *know* are trustworthy and yet, I can't help but always feel like I'm on guard all the time, just waiting for evidence that I'll be betrayed and abandoned. So I put up the shield of happy-go-lucky or of being confident and never let anyone get to see much of what's behind that. And it's not anyone else's fault but my own. There have been people who have betrayed me awfully in the past, but there are others who never have and probably never will. But I can't let that guard down. If they see the shivering mass of jello I really am, they'd hate me. I'd be a drag. They'd stop answering my calls, making excuses not to ever see me because I'm such a downer to be around. I wouldn't blame them for a minute. Who wants that? Who wants to look into the well just to see snakes slithering at the bottom? And yet, I yearn for that - to be truly whole to the world, to lack the paralyzing fear of rejection so that I can just be. So I can relax. So I stop having insomnia because I'm always in a cat-like state of readiness. So my muscles will stop aching from being so tense all the time. So I stop second-guessing everything I say and do and then bracing myself against them, convincing myself that I'm always getting it wrong.

I'm so fucking tired and worn out.

2003-10-08T20:47:00.000-04:00

I've been asked to give a presentation tomorrow morning to 40 people, including a whole bunch of managers, VPs, department heads, etc. on the testing I've been doing lately. I'm terrified - I don't feel like I know this stuff very well. God, please let me come down with a 24 hour flu tomorrow...

This will sound stupid, but today I suddenly realized - I HAVE A CAREER!! How the hell did that happen? When? Where was I? I'm giving presentations to big shots? I have authority? I still don't know what I want to be when I grow up. It's just plain old weird that I landed up where I have. I was completely the girl least likely to succeed in high school. Now I'm someone's boss. Weird....

2003-10-07T19:35:00.000-04:00

Whoever said "there is no such thing as a stupid question" had never sat through an entire day of a seminar with businesspeople trying to learn a new tech application.

2003-10-06T22:20:00.000-04:00

The post below is really sucky. I had a shit day. Now re-reading it, it sounds pretty whiny. So feel free to skim over it.

An email from someone I do care a lot about has made me feel less stormy, maybe just maybe even cared about. The cloud over my head that was there all day today is slowly dissipating.....

2003-10-06T18:35:00.000-04:00

This is going to sound like a boastful post, but I'm not meaning it at all that way.

I think sometimes that I will never find love, never find someone else that swoons for me. Sometimes I think I need to be more "girly", more manipulative, more sly, more demanding. I see the guys around me get caught up in women that lie to them, turn their emotions on hot and cold depending on what they want from the guy, treating him like shit when he no longer supplies whatever it is that they wanted from him. There's a reason I have few women friends, and the few that I do, like Dana, are also non-girly girls. Women really see men as the enemy in many ways. It's cool to make fun of guys, it's applauded when a woman manages to take take take from some guy. And yet, it seems that the guys I know will fall for it every time.

I bite my tongue sometimes when a guy friend comes to me with his latest saga with his girlfriend/wife. I can see right though the manipulation, the deceit. He wants to know how he can make it better with her, get in her good books. I want to scream that he's done nothing wrong, that she's acting like she is because it's a great way to keep him on a leash. If you throw a treat to a dog, after a while he obeys your every command waiting and hoping that you'll throw another treat his way. Women use love and sex that way. Give it/take it away - keep him on his leash wanting more. It's pathetic.

I don't think men are angels. Far from it. There are many men that manipulate and lie to women. But it's different in some ways. I've seen men behave that way with women they're not involved with, whereas women tend to behave that way to men they are with.

So back to my first statement. I don't think I'm nearly manipulative enough to keep someone in love with me. I'm too damn lazy to play games. If I love someone, I show it. I don't use that as a means to get something. I don't want to keep someone hanging on a thread, playing with their feelings just to prove that I can. I don't want to take for granted someone who is kind to me, cares for me or acts decently towards me. Yet, it seems that that's my downfall. It's almost as if men *want* the exact things they later bitch about. The woman who gives mixed signals, who gives suspicious excuses for things, who gets angry when they ask her for anything. I know quite a few men that love to complain that their wives hate sex, never give them any affection and are frigid, yet I *know* that they'd freak out if they met a sexually confident woman.

I don't think I'm great or amazing or the best chick ever. Fuck, I know damn well I'm not. I'm moody, needy, confusing, contradictory and insecure. But I also know that I don't pretend to be otherwise and I can't lie to someone I'm involved with or treat them as less-than-equal. And that seems to be something that crops up again and again as to why relationships falter in my life, why I don't have a prominent place in someone's mind. I'm too easy and too willing to be open and honest and accommodating. I know that sounds stupid, but it really seems to be true. In relationships, the squeaky wheel gets the oil.

2003-10-06T13:09:00.000-04:00

Today I feel like I either want to fall down weeping and have the world comfort me, or to tell the world to fuck off and die.

2003-10-05T22:21:00.000-04:00

There's something weirdly sad about Sunday nights. I remember the first time I ever thought "I want to die", I was 14 and it was on a Sunday night. There wasn't any reason that I suddenly felt the urge to end it all, I just remember that feeling of sadness and misery and the panic I felt when the feeling came over me and the thoughts became obsessive and I couldn't stop thinking about dying. I remember going out of my room to the living room where my parents were and telling them, crying, that I wanted to kill myself. I remember that they reacted as if I had casually told them there was a mouse in my room. I remember my mother acting as if I should put that silly nonsense out of my head and that it wasn't a big deal, that there was nothing to be concerned about and I was probably just tired. I went back to bed and begged the thoughts to stop, tried to bargain to any deity that was listening to make it go away, to end the panic I was feeling. I woke up the next morning with the thoughts still on high volume and my parents had gone to work. I remember trying to make toast for breakfast and finding that they'd hidden all the knives. I remember my sister and I skipping school that day and going down to the Varsity cinema with two guys we knew to see Led Zeppelin's "The Song Remains the Same". I remember that I still felt panicky that whole day and landed up calling the suicide prevention hotline hoping that maybe they could make it stop.

Sundays still feel sad to me. Sunday nights feel lonely and isolating. I feel a weird calm despair. I feel stupid and dumb and ugly and annoying and generally that I should just let myself rot in a corner somewhere, out of the way of the world. I don't feel angry or rebellious or really *anything*. I feel numb, tired and blank. Nothing seems thrilling, nothing seems colourful. It's all grey and I'm grey along with it. I feel completely socially retarded, emotionally backward and a walking clusterfuck waiting to happen. I think that everyone that knows me must be thinking the same things about me, about how awkward and dopey and unclear I am. I feel inarticulate, as I do actually most of the time. I have all these thoughts in my head spinning around and I can't find the words to express them. I just feel tired of everything. I'm drained. I'm hopeless. The suicidal thoughts have given way to just general feelings of worthlessness since that night back then. I go up and down, but deep down it's always still there, always eating away at me.

2003-10-05T09:39:00.000-04:00

You know you're a geek when you're playing Bookworm and you're astonished that they don't count "warez" as a word.

2003-10-02T07:15:00.000-04:00

You know, when you've been spending most of your time in the valley, sometimes you forget just how nice the view is from the mountain.

2003-09-30T11:26:00.000-04:00

Decisions..decisions...

For Halloween this year, should I be:

1) Wednesday Addams
2) Morticia Addams, or
3) Lilly Munster?

Should it alarm me that I have all the necessary clothing and accessories in my "normal" wardrobe to easily be any of the above?

2003-09-28T10:09:00.000-04:00

What I want most is a truly committed, fully intimate, ultimately trusting relationship with someone.

What I fear most is a truly committed, fully intimate, ultimately trusting relationship with someone.

2003-09-27T10:38:00.000-04:00

You know, the word "Lovely" is not the word I think I'd be choosing for this. "Nightmare-enducing" maybe, or "horrifying" perhaps. Maybe "A sledgehammer to this would be doing the world a favour". But not "Lovely".

And should I be concerned that the "bung" is still attached?

2003-09-23T19:39:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I think I was supposed to be a boy. Girly things have never held much interest for me. I've never watched soaps, I don't get really worked up about clothes, I don't care if I get dirty and I hate that passive shit that so many women get into. You know the whole "well, I let him pick out the CD player/television/computer/car because what do I know? I'm just a girl" crap. Fuck no. I'll be the first person asking about how easy it is to change the oil in a car I want to buy. I like fixing stuff, building things and get orgasmic at the scent of a lumber store. I like some girl stuff sometimes, but overall, I find girls get all the boring things traditionally. Give me gadgets or give me death.

Today I was at the Great Canadian Newstand at lunch. I hadn't noticed that when you walk in, the chick magazines (Vogue, Glamour, Martha Stewart) were on the left and the guy magazines (PC World, Photography, Canadian Business) were on the right. I milled around for the better part of my lunch. It wasn't til later that I figured out that why the salesclerk only asked *me* if I needed any help was because I was in the guy area. I bought PC Magazine, PS2 Gamer, Military Monthly and Popular Science. I think I'm actually a 14 year old boy, looking at my choices. I admit that the PS2 and Military mags had a final destination of my son's hands, but I read them both on the subway home before giving them to Mike. The other two are solely mine. I'm anxiously waiting for Mike to fall asleep tonight so I can read Popular Science in peace.

It's too bad that being a tech/car/plane geek is considered a "guy" thing. Figuring out how stuff works is way more interesting than thinking about prom gowns and wondering if Bennifer will get back together. Sometimes I think I should foster Mike's "feminine" side a bit more than I do, but heck, if that stuff bores the crap out of me, why would I force it on him? Not when there's PS2 Starsky & Hutch to play...

2003-09-21T18:55:00.000-04:00

A week since my last post. Feels like a day. I've been working killer hours this week as we try and complete testing for this huge project. The test scripts were written by 1,000 monkeys sitting at typewriters I think. I've re-written so many and entered so many test accounts that I'm running out of fake client names. My latest few have been Jello Biafra and Henry Rollins. I'm stretching for names that I haven't already used 100 times.

They like me at work. My VP said she's thrilled at how fast I hit the ground running with this testing I'm doing. Wait until she realizes that I'm incompetent!!! Yeah, no self-esteem issues there.... It feels great having their confidence and words of support, but that little voice in me keeps saying "well, you're new - wait until you've been there a while and they realize you don't know shit". I'm trying to strangle that voice, but it's pretty resiliant.

I worked all day today, some at the office and the rest here at home. I feel sick. Not sure if it's from staring at screens all week and doing the geek hunch and therefore throwing my posture out of whack. My right eye is also hurting a lot. It started a month ago in Algonquin and I figured it was an infection that would go away. Nope. Finally saw my doctor who gave me antibiotics and anti-inflammatory drops and said that it could be tied to an autoimmune dysfunction. Oh great. My mother has arthritis and that puts me square up there on the likely-to-need-Wheel-Trans-when-she-gets-older category. I was supposed to go back and see him 2 weeks ago for follow up and I haven't had time. I really should go this week, but who knows how much free time I'll have. As it is I have piles of laundry and a house that looks somewhat like the pictures of North Carolina after Hurricane Isabel.

I know I complain a lot here. Heck, it's my blog and I'll whine if I want to. But I don't want pity for any of my whinings - I re-read some of them and thought "oh man, it seems like all I want are pity pats". I don't. I guess I complain and get depressed over a lot of things in my life and talk about them not for the "Poor Deb" (ewww) but just to remind myself of what I feel. I do feel invisible a lot to many people around me. I always wonder what it would take for anyone to notice how much at the end of my rope I can get - a breakdown? A freak out? I don't want pity or sympathy, nor is any of this a backhanded way of asking for help. I just wish I didn't feel invisible as much as I do. My own fault really. But not something I can change easily. I'm the last person who, IRL, will walk around acting pathetic and miserable. Well not openly. So how can I blame people for not noticing?

I really am my own worst enemy.

2003-09-13T12:15:00.000-04:00

No more. I can't deal with it. I wonder when this will all break and I will fall deep, deep into the thorn patch, so far down that I'll never get up again. I feel like I'm tottering on the side of the abyss, trying to keep my balance so that I don't fall into that deep hole unable to claw my way out. But I think I'm losing the battle.

2003-09-12T07:44:00.000-04:00

This blog looks like crap on Mozilla. Anyone know why that is? Which settings to play with?

I'm feeling a bit better today. Well, about all that shit of the last week. I woke up today and found out Johnny Cash died. That's actually thrown me for a loop. It's funny, I don't like country music in general, but I loved the man in black. His songs were very real, very full of the pain of living. I liked him as a person. Unpretentious and down to earth. In my old punk days, I used to go see him everytime he came to Toronto. Funny thing was, I wasn't the only punk at his show. There were usually quite a few neon red mohawks and other ne'er-do-wells at his shows. He seemed to know the alienation and pain that we were feeling.

I'll miss his music.

2003-09-09T23:29:00.000-04:00

Okay, for those of you happy in love, skip this one. Yep, that's you Cheeky ;)

This song was in my head all day. Whether it's feeding my depression or relieving it, I'm not sure. But it's part of me today, thanks to an emotional bloodletting that I had in a very vivid dream last night which stayed prominent in my mind all day despite me trying my damnedest to get rid of it. A dream where I said everything that had been welling up inside me for the past year or so, but with no relief, no sense of finally getting out all that was inside me, hurting me, angering me, baffling me. I woke up full of pain, feeling every bit of sadness and kicked-in-the-gut as I did a year ago. It's still here. So I guess my brain was trying to soothe me. I think. I dunno. Anyways, this song brings out the old punk in me and makes me feel like kicking ass, instead of wallowing.

H-A-T-R-E-D by Tonio K.

*Now I know it’s not unusual
There’s nothing so unique
There’s probably hundreds of wonderful love affairs
That go bad in this town every week
(It’s a big town)
But all of them others
Them sad hearted lovers
Could cry in their beer what the hey
It didn’t concern me
Was none of my business
I never had nothing to say
But suddenly darlin’
The table has turned
You have left me for somebody new
And it’s now it’s hard to express the resentment I feel
For the years that I wasted on you

But let me put this another way
Okay

Eins, Zwei, Drei, Vier!!

(*Repeat above)

I’m so full of
H-a-t-r-e-d
I’m bitter I’m maligned
You got me
P-i-s-s-e-d Off
I’m angry most of the time
Why don’t you
G-o-t-o-h-e double “l”
You tramp, you philandering bitch
I’m going to k-i-l-l one of us baby
Give me time and I’ll decide on which

Now wait a minute
I know I’m acting immature
I'm acting like a child
I should display some self-control
Instead of going wild like this
And I wish I could accept all this
As simply life which includes pain
And act upon the actual fact
That nobody’s to blame
Yes I wish I was as mellow
As for instance Jackson Browne
But "fountain of sorrow" my ass motherfucker
I hope you wind up in the ground

I’m so full of
H-a-t-r-e-d
I’m bitter I’m maligned
You got me
P-i-s-s-e-d Off
I’m angry most of the time
Why don’t you
G-o-t-o-h-e double "l"
You tramp, you philandering bitch
I’m going to k-i-l-l one of us baby
When I’m sober I’ll decide on which

Oh
H-A-T-R-E-D
What’s that spell? (x5)

Maybe with the help of counseling
We can work this out ......

2003-09-08T07:45:00.000-04:00

PS - that last note sounded pretty desperate. I'm not. Just fighting those growling black dogs.

2003-09-07T20:56:00.000-04:00

I really hate John Cougar Mellencamp, but right now a lyric of his is running full speed through my brain over and over.

"Oh yeah, life goes on. Long after the thrill of living is gone."

It's on constant repeat over and over. Not intentionally, I don't think. I'm fighting the black dogs again today and losing. That lyric just popped into my head on its own, but it's precisely how I feel right now. The thrill of living is gone. When did I have it? Maybe in my early 20s, but fat lot of good it did then. I was so fucked up, so brainwashed by my family, so convinced that I was worth nothing. But I had friends, I had a social life, I went out, I saw bands, I did things.

I have a son now and he is the only thing some days that keep me from falling down into the deep pit and staying there. I don't think I could ever let him know that there are days when he is the only thing his mother thinks is worth living for. Talk about pressure. I couldn't do that to him. Sometimes I think I'm a terrible mother for being so depressed, so sad. He feels it and he shouldn't. I talk about depression with him - let him know that it's not caused by him, that it's an ailment like any other but this one's invisible. But still, he shouldn't have to deal with this crap.

2003-09-03T20:49:00.000-04:00

So I survived my first day at Big Bank Job. Sounds like I should be wearing a fedora with a machine gun in a violin case, huh? I'm now a happy little grunt, greasing the wheel so that Big Bank #3 can make even more profit. Corporate whore. Yep.

It was actually not too bad. Downside - I share an office meant for one person with two others, one of whom is my boss. The office equipment and furniture is the least ergonomically comfortable stuff I've ever seen, and I've worked on the Trading Floor of the TSE - not exactly the most comfy environment. The upside - my boss seems really nice, down to earth and relaxed. I got to do some testing already and felt good, like I was using my brain again. The contract job paid well, but my brain was quickly turning to mush there. I'm tired but relatively happy.

One thing that seems odd is that there are five people from Belgium in my group. How many Belgians have you ever met? None of them knew each other before working here either, so it's not like there's some Belgian conspiracy going on. Or maybe there is.... Hmmm..... well if there is, I just hope it involves a lot of chocolate.

2003-09-02T16:52:00.000-04:00

I catch myself thinking of you at the oddest times. I don't want to. It's like having a deep cut on your knee and poking at it periodically to make sure it still hurts. I know the wound still exists. I know it's there. I know it's healed over mostly, but it's still sensitive to the touch. Why the hell do I have to keep poking at it? Fuck, I want to forget. I want to be indifferent. I want to shrug at the thought.

I wonder if I ever cross your mind. Do you sometimes see something that reminds you of me? Do you sometimes catch a scent of my cologne somewhere and have your thoughts drift back in time? Does a certain word or expression make you remember my laugh, my tears, my words? Do I even exist to you anymore?

2003-09-02T14:04:00.000-04:00

There are a few blogs I read regularly that I find beautiful and honest. Blogs that are obviously there as an outlet for the person, a place to write down feelings and thoughts where it's obvious that it's written for the author, not for an audience. That us, the audience, can read these words and recognize ourselves in some of them just happens to be an extra. It's not the purpose of the blog itself. I started this blog for that purpose - to write down thoughts and feelings that swirled through my head randomly. I started this when I was trying to sort my own brain out while going through a situation that caused me much grief. I needed somewhere to try and put thoughts down as a way to try and get them out of me so that I could figure out what was going on inside me. Counselling is good for that as well, and I've found that the combination of writing this blog and seeing Kali weekly has brought out a few layers of shit inside me that had lain hidden forever. I have corresponded with a few people that have let me know they've read my blog and liked it - a thought that still blows me away. I tend to think of this all as being half-written, random and fragmented, much like my thoughts usually are. That anyone would read this and think of it as anything but self-indulgent tripe astounds me. I mean, this whole blog is self-indulgent, but isn't that what this form of writing is all about? Chronicling yourself?

I've read a couple of blogs and/or journals that are really obviously meant to be read. There's a sense of "look at me!! Look how clever I am!!! Look how intelligent I am!!! Don't you like me? Aren't I cool?" to them. I can't imagine writing something like this for validation, although validation is a wonderful thing when it comes unbeckoned. I find it annoying to read someone's idea of what they should say, as opposed to what they really are. Are they aware that they are obvious? Do they even know that they're playing a role? How can they enjoy writing about who they want to be, not who they are? I guess I'm just lazy - I'd find that tiring. I read things like that and assume the person writing can't really like themselves much - they feel like they have to live up to some ideal of who they are, not a reality.

But is that hypocritical of me? I mean, in real life, I come across as far more confident and self-assured than I am. Is that the same thing? Or is it different, because putting up a bit of a shield in real life is different than putting one up on a blog, seeing as you choose to create a journal, a blog and you don't choose to interact with others. Well, you know what I mean. Writing a blog is an option, something that expends energy. Living among the world just happens and you have to go along with it all as best you can.

The hardest thing for me is to think about what really is *me*. Not what is the Deb others want to see, the Deb that's expected. Who is Deb? Aw hell, who is John Galt? :) Just kidding :) Are we all lost inside ourselves, hiding under a costume? Do any of us truly know what is us, and what is the role of us?

2003-09-02T08:00:00.000-04:00

I love Dana. Wholly and lustfully. I just needed to say that :)

2003-08-30T10:34:00.000-04:00

Well, I'm finished at the contract. Is everyone the same as me, getting attached to things too easily, too soon? When I started that job in May, I figured that it wouldn't be a big deal to leave at the end of the contract, that I didn't think I'd really become friends with anyone there, etc. Hell, it was only 3 months. But yesterday felt sad saying goodbye to everyone. I didn't make any lifelong buddies there as I have at other jobs, but still, when you spend 8 hours a day with a group of people and get to know their lives, it's weird saying goodbye and knowing chances are you won't see them again. I felt a bit down last night, not depressed, but just subdued. I don't mind leaving there - I'm going to a much better position, but it had become comfortable. Four of us left yesterday, two other contractors who each had been there for over 8 years and one full timer who had found a better position. Everyone was pretty subdued at it all. I was wished well by everyone and told to keep in touch. But I know that won't probably happen really. Maybe a few emails, a lunch or two and that's it.

Today I'm supposed to go to the Ex with Mike and Steve. Mike's really into going and showing me Ontario Place. He's been there a few times with my mother this year and knows it inside out. My eye is still bugging me, but I'll manage. I can't believe the summer is almost over.

I'm a bit melancholy today, a bit quiet. Things are ending - job, summer - but things are also starting. It's a weird feeling in some ways and I feel rather withdrawn right now from everything. Gimme a day or two and I'll be back to normal. I hope.

2003-08-29T08:32:00.000-04:00

I think I'm gonna change my nom de plume to Ayn Random.

It's my last day at this job today. Watch how fast I get ready to go to work. It's almost 8:30 and I'm still in my jammies. If only I could feel this laid back about a job every day :)

And if you haven't already, go read Cheeky's Blog. A self-aware, emotionally open, funny guy?!!! Who woulda thought it possible? :)

2003-08-28T15:14:00.000-04:00

Today is my second-last day here at the contract job. I have done *nothing* today. Nothing. Not out of a lack of trying. It's that slow.

I told my co-workers that tomorrow I'm answering all emails and phone calls in Latvian. That'll be my "goodbye" .. hehe. I'll be remembered as "that tall blonde girl that no one could understand". My legacy shall live on...

2003-08-28T11:01:00.000-04:00

Y'know, with all the recent news about Toronto harbouring possible Al Qaeda operatives that were possibly planning to blow up the CN Tower, you'd think that the Snowbirds would think to practice somewhere else than right directly above all the downtown office towers. Holy mother-of-pearl, we all just jumped about 20 feet suddenly hearing the loud WHOOOSH of jet engines right above our building. Thanks guys.....

2003-08-27T16:23:00.000-04:00

Sometimes I forget that not everyone was brought up by old European parents that survived the war. I was talking to a co-worker about a Beef recall that's in the news right now. She was panicking because her sister phoned to say that some Sobey's stores *may* have bought some of the meat and she occasionally shops at Sobey's. That seems typical of her - complete mob mentality, lack of rational thinking. I just *know* she was one of the people lined up at a gas station for hours during the blackout just because *everyone* was panicking that they wouldn't get gas. Anyways.. she was absolutey hysterical that there was a slimmer than slim chance that she might have purchased something that could possibly been from this meat place. She was talking about throwing all her beef products out and not buying any more for the next few weeks until it's all over. I mentioned that even if somehow she had managed to get her hands on the meat from there, there hasn't even been any reports of anyone getting sick over it - just that it was improperly inspected. It hadn't even occurred to me to think twice about it. I guess if I *knew* I had meat that was from there, I'd probably get rid of it just in case, but to throw out a ton of good food for no reason? That's just stupid.

We started talking about food issues. I grew up in a typical immigrant European family. My parents both survived WWII. My mother remembers all the rations and lack of *everything*. My father was a soldier who lost his country for 50 years after that war and landed up in a DP camp stateless. I grew up saving everything - pins, paperclips, rubber bands, nails, etc. I still have that tendency - if something is potentially useful, it gets put away. Food in my family was a similar thing. My parents wouldn't keep food that had obviously gone bad or was a hazard, but we always just cut the surface mold off cheese and ate the rest, pulled off the moldy crusts of bread and ate the insides, never worried that butter left out on the counter for a day was inedible. If I leave milk out overnight, it goes back in the fridge in the morning after a quick sniff to see if it's gone bad.

I don't insist my son wash his hands everytime he pats one of our animals. If he drops food on the ground, chances are good that the five second rule will come into play. I don't worry about him being spic and span clean before eating. I actually think it's better for his immune system if he does get some exposure to germs. I don't insist on him keeping absolutely clean. Maybe it's old fashioned, but I think kids *should* get dirty. What other time of your life is there when you don't have to care about your appearance?

I know these things have come up before with friends of mine that come from Canadian families. They don't understand why I don't think it's necessary to shower daily to be clean, that eating yogurt one week past it's "best before" date won't kill anyone (hell, it's "best before" not "fatal after"). That I can't bring myself to pay someone to do a task I'm capable of doing. That to me, being unable to fix basic things around a house is something to be embarrassed about. That the stuff in my basement isn't *junk*, but useful items that can serve a purpose in the future.

Many of my friends are also first generation Canadian and it's almost funny how they never question any of these things. We all still have a wartime mentality, given to us by our parents without them even realizing it. Waste makes me nervous. I find people who are obsessed with cleanliness to be unappealing. It seems weird that people get really caught up in sterile living.

Or I'm just a smelly Latvian pack-rat with moldy food waiting at home :)

2003-08-27T00:36:00.000-04:00

Today I'm fighting myself, trying to remind myself that there is more to me than what I can do for the world. That I exist, that I matter in some way just for myself, not for my abilities to retrieve information, provide comfort and support to a friend, make dinner, fix computers. I'm trying to remind myself that I exist, not just my actions. But how do I define myself? I really don't know. Who the hell am I? I tend to think of myself in terms of what impact I have on others - good mom, good friend, entertaining guest (not always intentionally). But who the fuck am I? I feel like an empty shell in so many ways, filled up only with the utility I can bring to others. I don't want to be a martyr. I don't want to be someone who is self-sacrificing all the time. I hate that. I want to know who I am, but I don't. Not really. I'm barely starting to understand what I like, as opposed to what someone external to me seems to think I should like. I question everything about myself - am I doing it for me, or to fulfill someone else's notion of me? People I know tend to see me in definite terms and then act startled and, to me, seemingly disapproving when I don't fit into their mould of me. I am a former punk, single mom, tough as nails when needed, determined, stoic, practical and forceful person. I am also a jiggly mass of jello underneath all that, convinced that I have no real value to the world besides what I can do for others. I think I'm hideously ugly, socially awkward, quivering angst-ridden neurotic who is terrified of being hurt again by someone close. I put on the tough act to keep everyone at bay. I'm not mean or hard, but I have a very thick shell which protects me. Or I hoped it did, except that time and time again I believe and trust someone enough to let them have a look under that shell only to find out that they never cared to see that quivering jello lump. I land up feeling completely rejected, and the rejection is far more real because that person got to see *me*. Rejection of the girl with the leather shell isn't nearly as devastating because it's not really me that's being rejected. Just a persona, a role I play.

I'm still recovering from a major rejection, a major betrayal of my trust. I want it to be over with, I *want* to be that tough girl that says "fuck you, asshole" and means it. But somewhere inside I figure I deserve it for being such a wuss, so emotional, so attached to others. That if I could somehow manage to be the traditional image of "cool", aka detached, I could survive easier. I wouldn't feel such despair, such belief that I deserve to be treated that way as punishment for being the needy insecure idiot I am underneath it all. That when that side of me shows, it deserves to be rejected, humiliated, laughed at. When I let people in and they reject any thing of the real me that doesn't fit into their idea of who I am, whether it's by saying "you can't POSSIBLY be serious - you like fishing? That's so not like you", it hurts and I shut part of me off to them forever. They never know that though, I can play pretty good at pretend-intimate, showing only the things they want to see. But then, in the end, it just reinforces my idea that I'm not worth truly knowing, that I have no value. It just plays on and on and I can see it, but can't stop it. I don't know. Some days I wonder if I'll ever get my head screwed on straight. I keep thinking that the end of the road is somewhere coming up, that there will be a point when these thoughts of inferiority don't plague me, don't rule me. But I've been thinking that for my whole life. Are the next 38 years going to be as sad as the first 38?

2003-08-26T12:33:00.000-04:00

I don't feel good today. I wanna go home.

2003-08-26T07:43:00.000-04:00

Algonquin is a beautiful place. I hadn't been there since I was a kid. I forgot how pretty it is. It's weird (maybe?) that I love both HUGE cities and the wilderness. I'm not into "country" though, call me choosy. I wouldn't want to live outside a city - even Toronto feels too small a lot of the time, but I love being among the tall pines and lakes up north.

In the Algonquin newspaper you get when you buy your daily permit, it talks about all the wildlife in the park. It says that park employees are lucky to see a black bear once or twice a season. Well, guess what? We got to see a bear twice. Yep, I'm all about the luck. First night, late at night, "George" the bear showed up at the cabin looking for some food. Second night, after hiding any foodlike objects he showed up again. I think he was disappointed with the meager offerings. Third night, an orange cat showed up in his place. Must be a deputy of his. We saw a couple of deer, or elk I think. What is the difference between them? Okay, so I'm not *that* much of outdoor Deb to know what the difference is. But they were neat to look at and didn't run in front of the ugly car, so I was happy.

I managed to pick up an eye infection that is now feeling like someone popped me a good one. Ow ow ow. I think I'll be seeping blood through it shortly.

And now, back to work. This is my last week at the contract job. Next week I start at Major Canadian Bank Number 3. I'm doing the rounds of the big 5. I've already worked at the biggest Canadian bank and the fourth biggest. I think this new one is the second biggest. I have more gold banking cards than Conrad Black. I am a bank whore. Hell, I'll whore myself out to anyone that lets me have a discounted Visa card. I have no shame.

I need coffee.

2003-08-22T10:11:00.000-04:00

I'm off to Algonquin Park for a long weekend today. I rented a cottage for four days of R&R. I hope. As much R&R as you can get with an 8 year old on board :)

2003-08-20T18:59:00.000-04:00

I know that on some level I am deeply disturbed. This seems to manifest itself by way of me getting obsessive about collecting weird things. I have had a snowdome collection for the past 15 or so years and harass everyone I know to get me a snowdome when they go somewhere, the tackier the better. I have a couple of hundred of them now, I think. I still want more.

I have a weird obsession with the 1939 New York World's Fair. Okay, maybe that's not so weird. I love Art Deco and that was the World's Fair in which TV was first introduced to the public. The signature of the Fair is the Trylon and Perisphere. I have no idea why this appeals to me so very much, but I've been collecting things from it for about 20 years, as I can afford to. Antique collecting is *not* a cheap sport, but I've managed to get quite a few really neato things from there.

I think what worries me the most is that lately, very lately, I'm growing obsessed with collecting clown stuff. Clowns that supposed to be innocent and funny and yet make you shudder because you just *know* they're evil. In the mail yesterday I received two of my latest eBay purchases - a large box full of clown doll heads and doll parts which made me giggle. They *are* evil. I'm thinking of putting them into some type of glass vase or something. Just random clown parts. I think it would be funny.

I also got yesterday a 3 foot tall Bozo the Clown ventriloquist's dummy from eBay. Here he is as seen on eBay - notice the evil smile. I just know he's going to eat me in my sleep.

I am seriously wondering about my mental health right now. Clowns are bad bad bad - why am I acquiring them???? !!!

2003-08-18T12:17:00.000-04:00

Happy Birthday to me. Oh yeah. Woo woo.

I'm sitting here depressed as all fuck. Not over gaining a new digit on my age. Just over my birthday. This is going to be some self-indulgent whining, so exit now if you're not up for that. But it's my birthday and fuck it, I can whine.

Woke up this morning and reminded Mike that it's my birthday. I don't mind that - kids have a ton of stuff going on. He sang Happy Birthday to me and it was sweet. Erik didn't remember it was my birthday til I reminded him. Of course. No gifts, no card, nothing. Erik worked the Stones concert a couple of weeks ago and was paid last week for it. He had money to get me a card from Mike - I don't care if he gets me one from him. He could've taken Mike out to buy me something for my birthday as I know Mike loves to get me things that he thinks I'll like. Nope - wouldn't occur to Erik. Every year I take Mike out before Erik's birthday to "buy something for Daddy", but not once in the 8 years that Mike's been here has that happened in reverse. Erik was going to take off to a friend's house to do work today, leaving me with Mike alone. I love my son, but for my birthday it would be nice to just have a day to myself, to have someone else parent for a while. I got really pissed off. Why would Erik think for a minute to give me a break? Why think of me at all? I'm just a really good utility to have around. I pay for housing, transport, food. Why actually see me as anything but a walking ATM? Feelings? Why would I have feelings? Who cares about those, anyways.

My mother called me yesterday to ask what time I'll be home today (I took the day off, but she doesn't know that). She said my sister and my brother-in-law are coming over there for my birthday supper and she needed to know what time to tell them to come. Well how very thoughtful of her to *ask* what I wanted or if I had plans. It was just assumed that they knew what I wanted. Because there's nothing better on my birthday than to spend it with my dysfunctional family. Yes, that should make me deliriously happy. Just what I need. And there's no arguing about it, no "but I have plans". That would lead to months of shunning and angry silence from my mother.

My life is not my own. It belongs to everyone else. I'm just a convenient utility for them all. Except for Mike. God I adore him. Everyone else sees me as "Debbie Dependable" - the daughter that will come out to a store with her truck to help haul a purchase, the ex-wife who is good to take from, but not to give to, the sister that will always try and help out when help is needed, but otherwise gets shoved to the side. I'm not a person to these people, but a function. I am there for their uses, nothing more.

I'm glad I have true friends. They are the only people in the world that make me feel that maybe, just maybe, I'm worth something beyond the sum of what I can do for someone. That I matter. Because to these other people, the people I have a blood bond of some sort with, I am nothing but a tool to get what they want.

I'm tired of this. I'm tired of being used. I'm tired of not mattering. I have enough problems trying to remind myself that I have some worth without the people I interact with most regularly constantly treating me otherwise.

I'm sitting here crying. It's my birthday and to those around me, it means little. I think I don't mean much either to them. Not Deb. They wouldn't even know who Deb is anyways.

Yeah, happy fucking birthday to me.

2003-08-06T00:20:00.000-04:00

I'm not sure why, but I'm feeling really edgy lately. I want to snap at everyone and yell "FUCK YOU" at the top of my lungs. For no reason. No real reason. I'm stressed out. I'm tired. I'm overwhelmed. I'm edgy. I have at least a million things I want to do and absolutely zero time for them. If I haven't emailed you in ages, please don't take it personally. There are a few people I'm dying to get back to, to catch up with, to say hello to but it seems that days come and go and I don't have the time. Then when I might have time I feel guilty because it's taken me forever to get back to them. So I put it off, figuring that they hate me for being so uncommunicative. I'm sorry. I really want to talk to all of you.

I'm so restless again. Does this wanderlust ever get better? Does it ever stop? Will I ever be content to just be doing nothing? Staying in one place? Living in Toronto forever? I don't know what the hell I want.

I wanna go to New York City cuz they tell me it's the place to be, oh I wanna go to New York City, I just know that it's the place for me. Oh yeah.

Demics rock.

2003-08-02T07:59:00.000-04:00

I got the job I was going for :)))))))) I have to go through a million security checks, but once that's done, I'm in :)

I don't want to say more in case I jinx it.... but wheeeeeeee!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

2003-07-31T13:25:00.000-04:00

With the new world order here at work, a few benefits are slowly making themselves known. There are a lot of meetings due to the takeover and everyone knows that meetings + executives + mid-day = free lunch. My area was just brought the scraps of lunch leftover that a stuffed shirt or seven didn't want. We are devouring it like lions on a slow gazelle. I'm just waiting for fist fights to start breaking out over the last roast beef sandwich. I inhaled a cheese and veggie sandwich and some caesar salad. We were joking that they probably poisoned this stuff before sending it out to us. Less severance to pay that way. Let's hope not.

I've been reading the Pope and George Bush's recent comments on gay marriage with a definite snarl. Here in Ontario gay marriage has become legal and I haven't heard anyone complain about it. To me it's such a natural thing (although I do wonder why *anyone* wants to be married any more). The Pope also reprimanded those who would let gay couples adopt children. He thinks that having children raised by gay parents is a form of violence against them. So, apparently he would prefer children grow up with a mother and father who abuse and neglect them, rather than a long-term gay couple that would treasure them. Yep - that's God's will alright. I've never been as avidly anti-religion as many people I know, but this just smacked me across the chops. To think that this God that they cherish and worship would prefer that all children be raised by a man and a woman, regardless of any other factor, is repugnant. Is that the same God they like to think is kind and forgiving? Or is it just that he's kind and forgiving of people who follow these religious figures blindly. Is this why there are so many references to sheep and lambs in the Bible? If God didn't want people to question and to exhibit free will, why then would we have it? Is their God just taunting us, giving us the ability to reason and then condemning us when we do? I guess for me it's a bit odd. I grew up with a vague sense of a "God", but that God was equivalent to nature. Not good or bad, but just a force in life that exists. My father's sense of God that he imparted on me is that God is nature and in nature there is no waste, no random morality, no right or wrong. I guess that if I am to say I believe in God, it would be in that sense not an omniscent being that sits up in judgement of mortals waiting for us to slip up so he can condemn us. People who are mentally ready for children, financially ready and able to love them as they must be loved should be the people allowed to adopt or breed. Gay, single, straight, whaddever. I guess the Pope would rather that the unwanted children or orphans in the world live in crowded shelters, orphanages or on the street rather than with gays. Yep. God wants it that way.

Don't get me started on George Bush. Who is he to state what a family constitutes? His own family has some rather prominent skeletons in its closet. But because they're hetero, I guess that it's okay. Family is really only a state of mind. Yes, there are legal definitions and blood bonds, but those are often not nearly as true as other forms of "family" that we adopt over our lives. My *real* family is my parents, sister and son. My *true* family is my son and my friends. Any sense of love, acceptance or self-worth I have comes from them, not my blood relatives. If I had to make an emergency "I'm feeling like crap mentally and need someone to listen" phone call, it'd be my friends who I'd call. George thinks that only a man and woman can have a marriage. Funny how many of those marriages land up broken in one way or another. I guess to him it's better to have a man and woman married and one of them cheating openly with the other one in emotional tatters than to recognize two men that have spent 40 years together, loving and caring for each other. Yep. Again, sure - that makes all the sense in the world.

I'm rambling. It just never ceases to amaze me how people don't see through all the labels we place on things. I don't think of "marriage" as being a legal thing as much as an emotional bond between people. That just makes sense, doesn't it?

I'll stop my rant. Not because I've run out of things to say, but because they've just brought out the uneaten desserts... ;)

2003-07-30T14:50:00.000-04:00

Some days it feels like my life is passing through a blender. Things whizzing by quickly, no time to focus, all the colours and textures melding into one. Lately my days have been rather blenderesque. Random things...

We went to Pennsylvania this weekend for four days. We started in Allentown then debated where to go. On Sunday we decided to drive to Pittsburgh, 5 hours away. I wanted to go there to see the Warhol Museum. We got there late Sunday night and weathered a huge storm. I tried to remember if Pittsburgh was a tornado place. Still not sure, but wow, it was a huge storm. Set out Monday morning for the museum, battled downtown Pittsburgh traffic just to find out that it's closed on Mondays. I wouldn't be surprised if people in Mexico could hear my plaintive cry. There ain't a lot more to Pittsburgh to see, really. We went up Mount Washington, got lost, found a mall that had a couple of cool stores and then headed off for Toronto. 6 hours later got home at 12:30. Work the next day wasn't quite a joy.

Today is the Stones show in Toronto. I live close enough that I can hear it from my front porch. Walking home from the subway last night I listened to the Stones doing their soundcheck, singing Ruby Tuesday. There are helicopters buzzing over my house constantly. I guess rock stars get flown in to the show instead of smashing through the crowds like the rest of us. Erik's working at the show - security or something and I dropped him off this morning. Insane. Hundreds of thousands of people all surging through the neighbourhood, on their Hajj to see the Stones. The only band playing that I'd be remotely interested in seeing is AC/DC and even then.... I figure we'll just hear the show from here and fuggedabout the masses. I'm home with Mike today as getting around in these parts is insane and it's hot and well, I'm a contractor and it's not a huge deal if I don't show up. I don't get paid, so no one really cares (I think). I needed a day off. Work is depressing as hell lately with everyone knowing full well that their jobs are ending sometime between now and 2005. It's like being with someone with a terminal illness - they know they don't have much longer, but they don't know when the end is coming. Motivation at work sucks and everyone is depressed. I hear rumours all day about other departments getting hit with huge layoffs, contractors being given the boot, etc. Although I need to work and I want to keep this job until something else shows up, I just can't seem to get too worked up about it. Maybe I should. I dunno. I had an interview last week with a bank that seemed really promising, with the VP herself saying she was "sold" on me. But I haven't heard from them since and it's been a week. I'm trying not to think about it too much.

I just drove Mike and his friend Andrew to Gamer's World to get some Xbox games. Bathurst street was nuts because they've closed the Allen Expressway so people can walk up it to the Stones show. A huge truck cut in front of me and I swung up beside him. I looked over and he was yelling and shaking his fist at me. Normally I would either get mad back, or just ignore someone if they did that, but this truck was being driven by a dwarf. Yes, a real dwarf. A huge delivery truck. And a dwarf inside shaking his fist at me and yelling. As politically incorrect as all this is, I started laughing. Hysterically. Peeing myself. I almost *wanted* him to come out and have some road rage. I was picturing 5'11" of me vs. 3'0" of him. Completely and utterly incorrect but watching him wave his little arm and twist his face in anger at me was just making me pee myself. I am going straight to hell.

I need to clean this dump. No motivation at all. I wish I was Samantha Stevens right now and could wiggle my nose and make the house perfect.

2003-07-20T17:23:00.000-04:00

First - I want to challenge Chz to a Weather Pixie mud wrestling contest. I think my little goth meterologist can whip Chz's pretty little thang's ass. I'm taking wagers.

This weekend started off with a holiday. Mike had his first sleep-over at a friend's house. Isn't it awful of me to basically have gone home from work on Friday dancing my way up University? I love my little guy, but it was awfully nice to stay up late, sleep in late (noon!!!!) and play on my computer all day without being asked to come watch some pseudo Don Johnson get blown to bits in Vice City. I retaliated by taking him and his friend Nickey out to a movie last night - Johnny English. We had a great time, but that's a foregone conclusion. There's a couple of poo scenes in that movie and apparently that's pretty high art for 8 year old giggly boys.

Doing far too much thinking lately again, but it's good. I'm feeling okay right now, maybe I'll wait til later to see if I can write about stuff that's starting to ooze out of my memory memes and making sense as to why I obsess over situations that, by all rights and measures, I should have forgotten or shrugged off long ago. Okay well *one* situation in particular.

I want to go away somewhere. Somewhere far. I want to wander the earth going where I please, seeing everything I want. Dammit I need to win a lottery! I wish I could just book a flight and rush off to Europe or somewhere. Take Mike and hightail it outta Toronto. I'm so bored here. I toy with the idea of moving somewhere else, but Mike's pretty set at his school and with his friends. Seeing as he's a mini-me, I don't think moving around as a kid will be the most calming experience for him. I hated uprooting myself when I was younger. We didn't move around, but even changing classrooms and classmates threw me for a curve. I just hope he's mini-me without the self-loathing I managed to acquire.

I'm hungry...

2003-07-18T14:49:00.000-04:00

I came into work groggy this morning and ended up snorting diet Coke out of my nose reading this email from Manservant Steve that was in my inbox.

=>In order for me to get to work from my last bus, I have to walk about
half a mile down highway 27 from steels (the building borders the
highway. Since there is no sidewalk, I have to walk pretty close to the
cars zipping by at 100K. I always walk on the side of the road so that
the cars are driving towards me, so that if a car goes out of control, I
will see it coming, and if I can't get out of the way, at least I can
flip the bird to the driver before I become street pizza.

This morning, as I was walking over a bridge over train tracks (so that
I had no where to go), an old beater zipped past me and lost a hubcap at
full speed. And in a 3-dimensional world, where the hubcap could have
gone left, right, up or down, it chose to go straight forward at a
steady height of about three feet. And hit me square in the nuts.

Thank god it was a cheap aluminum one, so the impact didn't so much
hurt, but the shock of it damn near killed me. I have never been able
to come up with even a remotely convincing arguement for myself to buy a
car. This just tilted the scales a bunch.

So, how's your morning going?

2003-07-15T15:53:00.000-04:00

A few years ago I did something to someone that now, in the bright light of day, I realize was unforgivable. I betrayed a friendship. Well, not really a friendship as much as an acquaintanceship. I knew what I was doing was hurtful at the time, but my deep need for what I was getting in return made me turn a blind eye to it. I was horribly wrong and I wish I could tell that person how sorry I am, how much I’ve learned from that, how there was no excuse for it. I would send her a note, but I think it might stir up a lot of crap that she’s put behind her. But I am deeply sorry.

I was burned recently in the same way I burned her. Maybe that’s karma’s way of punishing me. I know how painful it was. I am still in pain from someone betraying me the exact same way. I feel that in some way I deserve this dull ache, this feeling of sadness. I did this to someone else, now it’s being done to me. And that’s fair, I guess.

The person central to this whole drama seems to have escaped scott-free. I hope that in time, karma catches up there as well. One person has messed up so many other lives. It’s not fair to run free from that.

Anyways, to you, who probably doesn’t even know this blog is here, I do want to tell you I’m sorry. I don’t expect forgiveness. I don’t probably deserve it. All I can say is that I didn’t intend on hurting you. There were too many issues inside me that led to my decision to betray you. All I can tell you is that I’m realizing it now and I hope that I will know better in the future, that I will listen to my inner voice that tells me when I’m doing something wrong. But that doesn’t lessen the pain I put you through. There’s no way I can explain my actions to you, or expect you to ever want to think of me again. I hope to hell you’ve put all that out of your mind and have moved on in life. I hope you’re happy. I really do.

Does karma really exist? In this case it feels like it on my end. But the central character joining us together in this crap, the reason I betrayed you, hasn’t suffered. I really hope in due course it all comes out.

2003-07-15T08:29:00.000-04:00

Hi Honey, I'm home...

Things are upside down and busy and fun and stupid and sad and confusing. My tattoo is healing nicely, which means becoming incredibly itchy. Dana's birthday is tomorrow, so we went out this weekend for a night of steak, dessert and strippers. Nothing says birthday better than that. I'm trying to find a variation of "Corporate Whore" to name my little company, seeing as that's the most descriptive way of describing what I do. I'd stick with Corporate Whore, but something tells me the bankers and whatnot that I work with won't quite see that as funny as I do. Again, all thoughts are welcome.

I'm going to start a new personal site. I think it'll be sirenslair.com, but who knows. That changes all the time. I want to cut from the past and there are a few other reasons that I think I'll leave blondebitch.net alone for a bit - keep it as a sister site.

And now I hafta go to work.

2003-07-10T07:39:00.000-04:00

Okay, so I suck at keeping this blog updated lately. I've had little time at home to go online - summer, kid and all that combined. I also am redoing my main website (blondebitch.net) and figuring out what the hell to name my little consulting company. I like the word "Siren", but Siren - what? Siren alone is kinda dull, so - Siren Systems? Siren Solutions? Siren Storm? I'm still figuring it out.

I got my new tat on Sunday. It's a very colourful owl, courtesy once again of Leah at Urbanprimitive who is the greatest tat artist of all time. Okay, well *I* like her stuff. I'll try and post a pic soon (yeah, right...).

Otherwise all is the same. Sleepy dopey Deb running around like a maniac trying to figure out how to get more time in a day to do EVERYTHING. Ugh - there's just so much that I want to do right now. Website, business, photography, friends, emails to catch up on, trying to find a cottage to rent for a few days (maybe) so we can get away and go fishing, etc. It'll be September before I have time to breathe again.

So how's your summer going?

2003-07-01T16:03:00.000-04:00

Q: How many kids with ADD does it take to screw in a lightbulb?

A: Wanna go ride bikes?

I *love* that joke.....

2003-06-29T14:09:00.000-04:00

I survived last week's barbecue, not without a million moments of anxiety over what to talk about. Erik and I yakked as we usually do, which is fairly bizarre and black humour-ish which I seriously forget sometimes isn't the way most people talk. My friends are all rather sarcastic and dark. Most normal families in this hood ain't. But I think we did okay. Mind you when we were talking about something being addictive, when I said "yeah, like tattoos" there was a silence. I dunno.

Today is a bit of a triggering day for me for a few reasons. A sad recollection of events of this day in years past. I don't know if I want to get into it all here, except that it's stirring up a lot of memories I wish would exit my brain. Does anyone else sometimes yearn for partial amnesia, to forget all the bad crap in their lives that keeps them from moving forward? I'm tired of the mental struggle of trying to get healthy. I have to do it, there's no other choice. I had a friend (who doesn't suffer from these bleak, black moments, lucky him) ask me if maybe I should give up counselling for a while and "just forget about all the crap" for a while. Man, I *seriously* wish I could do that. I can't walk away from myself. I want to many many times. I wish I could put everything on the back burner for a while and ignore it, but my problem is that *I* go along wherever I go. My crap is always with me. Sometimes it's in the background, sometimes, like right now, it's up front. But it's always there. I can't break away from my brain. It's hard to conceive that someone could just walk away from it to come back later. Okay, so that seems impossible to me.

I'm bored at work. It's odd, this is probably the least-mentally-taxing job I've ever had, and the best paying. You'd think I'd be jumping for joy at that combination, but I'm not. I don't hate it, but it feels like I've taken a huge step backward with the work I'm doing. Any challenge I have there comes from figuring out software packages that I'm not entirely familiar with, not the work itself. The people I work with are exactly what you think "corporate office workers" are. The Cathys of Kids in the Hall. I feel lonely there as there isn't anyone at all that I can bond with, anyone who is slightly off-kilter like me. The people I work with are pleasant to me, but there's no connection between us. I can do the "mom talk" about kids, but even then my kid has bright red hair most days and I let him swear in appropriate situations. The women I work with worry that their kids are too dirty after they get home from school and which parent will shuttle which kid to which organized sport afterschool in their minivans. I have to keep my mouth shut a lot so I can fit in. It's my life in a nutshell. If the people I worked with knew more about me, about my punk/goth past/present, about my oddball living arrangements at the current time, about my attitudes towards sex, life and parenting, I'd be shunned. Or at least politely tolerated while gossiped about quietly. I need to at least attempt to fit in so that they might extend my contract beyond November. Even though I might not love this position, the money is good and pays my bills. In an ideal world, that wouldn't matter as much as my happiness, but being a mortgage-paying, car-loan-paying, bill-paying single mom means that I don't get to live in the ideal world as much as the practical one.

I am lonely. That's a big problem. I'm lonely emotionally. I don't know if anyone really *gets* me. I think people think they do, but I don't ever open up enough to them to let them see the other 12 sides of me they don't know. I need so much and I hate myself for needing so much. I do feel pretty cast out on my own most times. I have good friends who I love dearly and who I know *want* to be close to me, so why can't I? Why can't I let anyone really get in there? Or is it just that they're as far in as they can go, that somehow I know they won't understand the rest so I keep it out. I hate being so sad all the time. I know it frustrates people close to me. I guess I could take comfort in thinking that they're frustrated with me because they care about me. But all I see is that they don't like me the way I really am, which is sad and in pain. Whether or not they agree with the reasons for my sadness and pain shouldn't be the difference between them reaching out in comfort, or yelling at me to get over what's upsetting me. At least that's how it seems to me. And I'm probably wrong. I just know that I am a drag to them because I am me. Me is a person who is sad over a lot of things and can't seem to get past them. I wish I had unending support and love, but I don't know that I do. Then I also wonder if I'd be loving and accepting of them if they were like me. I want to think I would be, but maybe I wouldn't. I just know it feels like rejection inside, and it's painful. But I keep going back, hoping that they will give me my lifeblood again, the love and understanding they have shown before. Only thing is that I keep the parts they don't want to see hidden from them so they don't reject me. And I land up feeling that I can't be whole with anyone.

I'm trying to figure out where my "safe" place is. Do I have one? Where do I go when I'm low and numb? Who is my comfort blanket? Is it wrong to want one? Not to put my problems on someone else's shoulders, but to have a shoulder to cry on no matter what? I guess I have one or two friends that will let me do that, but I still don't open up entirely to them. I'm scared to. I'm scared they will hate me, talk about me, see my number on call display and purposely not pick up. And I feel that I deserve that for being such a mope.

I have to keep myself occupied today. The thoughts keep filtering back. The memories are painful. Must keep busy...

2003-06-22T16:42:00.000-04:00

I am seriously having anxiety and churning stomach over going to a barbecue in an hour. Mike's best friend's parents invited us over and I have a severe case of social phobia. I love socializing with my friends, the people I know and are comfortable with. I am terrified about having to make conversation with people that I only casually know. I never know what to say, it's like my brain works in opposite to what's expected.

I feel nauseous from this "fun" event.

And people think I'm extroverted..... yeah, right.