Tag Archives: as if this is my life

sink vs. swim

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10

do you ever miss it?

i don’t know, really. yes? no? of course not. sometimes. obviously.

it fluctuates, i guess. with my mood, with the season, with my fucking outfit. sometimes i look in the mirror and i’m startled by its reflection. when did i become so tired? or when did i learn to smile again? it’s weird, i guess, to be wrapped up so tightly in a world of wretchedness and hide it so well. i don’t know how i could flee with such ease- how i could disconnect like that.

maybe i was young- it was so easy to fall and get wrapped up and just… be with someone. but things happened and i escaped myself and i may have just been a shell of a person- someone i once was. someone i’d never be again. maybe i glorified all those meaningless fucks because i wanted, more than anything, for them to be more than that. i wanted to prove (to myself) that i was capable of love again. not being in love. just… loving. i knew how, i thought. and it didn’t matter with who, i just needed to settle this bet with myself.

but his skin felt different, and his neck wasn’t comforting and i closed my eyes if he looked at me. i was sure not to touch his face, his shoulders, his chest, his hands- nothing that would connect us. i knew how to fuck without love. and i got better at it as time went on. hike your skirt and don’t look back.

men like that, right? when you drink them under the table, pound shots back while you’re dancing. when you have no fucking limits, no end. at some point, i couldn’t even tell when the night began or when the sun rose. i became so drunk off power, off lust, off getting away with all of it. i was secretive enough to keep them on their toes, yet open enough to have them back for more, if i wanted to. it became easy, i became cocky. they were afraid of me. i’d become a fucking liability because no one wanted to hurt like that. no one wanted to push those limits or feel so awful day after day. my body became my own punching bag, and i grew accustomed to the pain…

rolling out off someone (anyone)’s couch at dawn, naked and frazzled. my kidneys in so much pain i couldn’t even cough. stumbling through hallways to a bathroom so i could shit my fucking brains out, hack up a lung, and whimper in the shower. cracking a beer for breakfast. chewing gum all day to mask the taste of malt liquor. fighting the fatigue, fighting the urge to sleep forever because i knew then that if i’d give in, i’d give up forever. one more night, i’d say.

it lasted years.

how? fuck if i know.

and don’t get me wrong… some of my best memories were created during those times- during the better days, with better people. but i have this way of spiralling out of control so fast i lose my grip almost entirely. and yeah, you know, there will always be a part of me that will feed off the ecstacy of that lifestyle. and i will still have totally out of control crazy nights, sometimes.

but i think i’ve changed.

in some ways, at least. how could i not? it became a matter of life or death, job or unemployment, food or starvation, love or hate. it was either get healthy and grow up or fall off the map forever. because no one wants a broken girl like that; damaged goods. no one wants a fucking drunk for a girlfriend, for a daughter, for a friend.

and maybe dan did have a small part in helping me. he wanted so badly to be good again, to find some sort of common ground. when we were just friends, he would escape to the comforts of my living room and sleep in my bed and eat my casseroles. and without even realizing it, we were living the lifestyle i’d always wanted, deep down. the lifestyle i wasn’t comfortable sharing with anyone else.

so when i was sitting in my friend’s living room, eating the shepherds pie we’d just made from scratch, and talking about her due date… and she asked me, quite boldly do you ever miss it? , my initial instinct was to respond, without faulter, no. no fucking way.

and i guess i’d been mulling it over because, really, fuck it’s easy to let go… but i haven’t wavered. the answer is still no. this lifestyle i have, with these people in my life, and the job i work hard at, and the bills i pay (on time, no less), and the expensive furniture i finally own, and the effort i am putting into my home with dan… this is living. and i may shiver when i take my first sip of beer of the week, and i may still get a little giddy when i get afternoon drunk on a sunday, but it’s getting better. it’s definitely gotten easier. and i think that’s what’s important.

i don’t need to be black-out drunk to take my pants off in front of my boyfriend. and i don’t need to eat once a day to sustain life- i can cook and plan meals and enjoy dinners with my family and friends. and i don’t need to force myself to feel any sort of emotion, because with dan, it comes as naturally as breathing. as blinking. it just is.

and maybe that’s what scares me, sometimes. here i am, just being. and i’m okay with it. and i’m falling in love with it, even. i don’t have to worry about anyone’s intentions or the burden of fucking being alive because i actually have purpose now. and it’s a tough place to be, when i realize the last few years of my life have been some fucking bullshit ride i wanted off of- a rollercoaster i just kept riding because i had no other choice, i didn’t know any other options.

but that friend… the one who always asked me how i was doing, who always flat out questioned my sobriety any time we talked… she created a life. this perfect, tiny, healthy baby girl… and she’s changed everything. everyone around me is getting married, or having babies, moving in with their significant others, or packing up to start somewhere fresh together. it’s beautiful. here i was, thinking we were just a bunch of fuck ups, a bunch of punks having a good time. and it’s like the seasons changed and we’ve all started building our own families. my old roommate, skinhead jesse, is flying halfway across the country to make hundreds of thousands of dollars so he can buy his girlfriend a house in a year. so he can marry her and they can have babies in the city. jesse fucking germs wants to be a man. he wants to build a life and be a father… and the best part? he’d be amazing at it.

these last few days… spent renovating my new home, and spending time with my close friends who are all doing the same sort of things… i’ve just fallen completely in love with this city again. with my friends and our new lifestyles and where we’re headed.

because for the first time, man, we’re fucking headed somewhere.

and dammit, does that ever feel good.

remember that time i almost became a pirate? … like, permanently?

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i’m cursed, ya’ll.

my body has thrown in the towel and given up on me forever. two days ago, i almost went blind in one eye. here’s the story…

it was a total freak accident. i mixed up my contact solution with a disinfectant (hi, i’m stupid)… so once my contacts soaked in that for about 7 hours, and i put one of them on my eyeball thursday morning, it immediately burned my eye, and the contact was stuck with said chemicals on my eye for over 2 minutes. result? awful chemical burn on my eyeball.

holy hell, what is my problem? i spent about 30 minutes screaming and crying and rinsing my eye out and calling my dad yelling things about my “impending blindness and oh my god, my eye is going to fall out of my very own head! drive me to emergency right now, fuck!”, etc. it was quite dramatic. i woke dan up because duh, i’m a baby. so i bawled my eyes out as he rubbed my back (assuming i was crying over the recent jersey shore episode, or because i was ovulating or some shit), until i told him what happened and he jumped out of bed and basically threw my face in the sink, washing my eye out with water. it didn’t improve and (blah blah blah insert clinics, drops, crying, screaming, eye exams, writhing on the couch in pain, whining, napping with an icepack on my face, etc etc etc)

… by midnight last night my eye stopped gushing and my vision was coming back. it’s sore today and i look awful, but at least i’m not wearing an eye patch, and my boyfriend doesn’t have to date a pirate. i can mostly see, but it’s so blurry and completely different from my right eye… i’m thinking it’s going to be mostly permanent. but all in all, major crisis averted?

christ.

fuck my life for reals, yo.

in other less fucking shitty news… here are a few blackberry pictures from the last week or so…

i showed up at a nice wine & cheese, where the owner of the loft had STAR TREK CUPS! …my kind of party

-40 in the nation’s capital? no thank you!

yummy curry dinner i made for dan and i

motorhead was on conan the other night, and moose REALLY enjoyed that… perverted punx kitty

AND! dan’s band had a spread in vice magazine announcing their vinyl release! so proud of my handsome man. look at that face! frig.

anyway… send positive vibes my way… i’m hoping to not be this freaking blind forever :(

also… i’m doing a bit of a racy/saucy/semi-nude photoshoot tomorrow… depending on just how naked i get, i might share some of the shots with you lovely readers of the internetz!

xx

- e

in which my heart breaks

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* this entire post is about money and relationships and oh my god i’m crying again.

up until a few years ago, my parents never had a penny. they never furthured their education in college (until very recently), and they didn’t have outstanding jobs. my mother worked her way through administration jobs, and my father bounced between sales and management positions. and although i later found out that they were constantly worried about their ability to pay their mortgage on time, or have enough food in the house to feed our family of four, my brother and i had no idea how hard they struggled. we always had full bellies of healthy food, and shoes that fit, and pencils and notebooks for school. and although my bikes, and jeans, and school bags, or toys were mostly hand-me-downs, i pretty much had everything a kid could ever need. and when my dad would make his bonus, you can bet your ass that my mother would take us out to buy a new shirt for school, or take the family out on an outing. and despite my stuborn, greedy teenage nature… my parents taught me responsibility and self-control. they indirectly taugth me to survive. and they most definitely taught me that love trumps all. always.

when m and i moved into our $700 attic apartment in the outskirts of chinatown, everything changed. the reality of life hit me like a ton of bricks and i instantly (instinctively) went into survivor-mode. by the end of it, i had no money, no food, no job… i had fucking nothing. and while m would hoard food at work and stuff his face so he wouldn’t have to share, i ate a teacher’s leftovers for four days. i made that pasta stretch because i didn’t know when my next meal was going to be. m gained 50lbs that summer, and i couldn’t keep my size 1 jeans up around my waist. i can’t remember the reason, but my dad came to visit one afternoon while m was at work- to make sure i was okay, or alive, or something. and while i’d excused myself to go to the washroom, he scoured my cupboards and fridge. and when all he found was an open bag of stale noodles in the cupboard, and an empty carton of eggs in the fridge, i swear i saw him break. and i don’t remember much from that visit at all, except he took me to a tiny market in the middle of the city and spent $60 on bagels and fruit and milk and eggs. i found out years later that it was the last few dollars he had in his bank account- it was the only money he and my mother had to pay for their own groceries, and he spent it on me.

if that’s not love, and if that’s not family, or being a team is all about… i don’t know what is.

my point is this: i’ve struggled. i have starved and worried about paying rent on time (if at all). i spent three months working at a shitty smoothie bar after i left m, just so i could eat. i’ve had hasty moves while roommates are away, and i’ve been that sketchy, shitty person.

but i’ve also been lucky. i landed a sales job at an international multi-million company where (by the grace of god), my boss saw a light in me that she trusted. i didn’t have a college degree, but she saw skills in me, and she knew i would work my ass off. i fucking worked the shit out of that job for three years and pushed those sales so i’d make enough commission to cover rent and groceries and clothes. it wasn’t glamourous, and i was still living paycheque to paycheque, but i made it. and once my boss left that company to come here, she immediately referred me to the president and comptroller. that woman saved my life- and i’m lucky enough that four years later, i still work with her… and although she’s not my boss anymore, she always has my best interest at heart- i don’t call her work mama for nothing. she has coached me in every aspect of my life, and i owe her everything.

i went from unemployment, to smoothie bar, to sales representative, to assistant to the comptroller… in four years. without an education, without a damn penny, and without a goddamn chance. and for the first time since i was seventeen, i’m comfortable. i make enough money to pay rent, buy groceries and cook every day, feed my cat, go on little trips to visit my friends in montreal, buy coffee before work, treat myself to a new piece of furniture, buy shoes and clothes when i need them, and spoil my family with presents on christmas. i can go to dinner with friends, and see movies in the theatre, or see a live band every once in awhile. i can’t do all these things on a daily basis, but they are definitely opportunities to be a regular young adult and live a fulfilled existence without worrying every single day of my life.

and if any of these lessons and mistakes, and all this struggling has taught me anything? it’s this: in a relationship, first and foremost, you’re a team. always.

i never expected m to support me when i graduated high school, but i also never expected him to watch me fucking die. and while it wasn’t all awful, that summer made me realize more than ever, that he is not the kind of person i ever want to share my life with.

now that dan and i have started apartment hunting, the reality of our finances has kind of hit me. dan is still apprenticing to be a chef, and until he can afford to take his chef’s class and make more money working, things will be tight. i will have to carry more of the load until he’s more established, and i’m okay with that. what kind of girlfriend wouldn’t want to support her significant other in following their dreams? and while we’re looking at very inexpensive apartments for the area (which consequently, are still expensive as fuck), i can see dan already losing hope.

we looked at a beautiful 1.5 bedroom apartment last night, and both of us fell completely in love. it’s smaller than my place now, has no dining room, even less of a kitchen, and barely any storage, but it felt right. the bedroom has wrap-around lead glass windows, the kitchen has original built-in glass-doored cupboards, and the floors are original to the home (over 100 years old). i’d have to sell a lot of my furniture and clothes, and store my seasonal clothing in my parents’ basement, and yet i was in love. i’ve had all this room to hold onto the things that have held me back, and i hate that. i want a cozy, warm, inviting home with my boyfriend, and i want to work together, as a team, to reach our goals and dreams- even if that means helping each other out along the way. if there’s one thing i keep reminding dan when he gets in those moods, it’s that i love him, and i’d never let him starve. i don’t think he really understands the depths of what that means for me, because m watched me do it so easily, btu i mean that. i’ve been there- i’ve struggled working those jobs, doing what i love, barely making any money, just because i knew that eventually things would look up- they worked out for me, and they’ll work out for him. and even though i don’t have a ring on my finger, or a baby in a crib, dan is my family now.

when we got home from the appointment we had to see that apartment, we ate dinner quietly, and made a few comments on how we’d want to set up the furniture if we were to get that apartment. we argued a little and we disagreed on most things and eventually i just went to bed- and dan, being the person he is, came in and tried to work it out and i just wouldn’t have it. i gave myself time to think about what i wanted to say, and how i wanted to say it, and once we’d both calmed down, i asked him to talk. it makes me sad that money is such a strain on relationships these days, and if you weren’t born into a family with money, you’ll be struggling til the day you die. that’s fucking scary.

in any case, we talked about our concerns, and we kissed and made up, and now that i know his financial situation a little bit better, and i can see what is feasible for both of us, we can start building a future together, as a team.

being down on my luck: i’m doing it right

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well, son of a bitch.

it’s a good thing it’s not 2011 yet or i’d have some serious ass-kicking to take care of.

i’ll start off by saying my christmas holiday was amazing. i got to see old friends, and spend some time at gam-gam’s by the (frozen) water, which was totally beautiful and nothing short of perfect. i ate a whole bunch of turkey sandwiches and got amazing gifts and fell more in love with my boyfriend than ever, if that’s even possible.

however…

i work as an executive assistant for a cell phone company. i do a lot of accouting work and reconciliation and i deal with money all day, every day. so naturally, i’ve been gifted a few of the top blackberries on the market. and contrary to popular belief, these cell phones have to be paid for by someone (GASP! they aren’t FREE?!)… granted, we do get them for amazing prices, but that’s not the point- a brand new GOOD blackerry goes for over $500 these days (minimum).

now, christmas eve was celebrated 2 days early at my apartment on wednesday. my parents, my brother cory, my sister-in-law josee, and dan were there. we ate, we laughed, we got drunk and had a really nice time. but an entire cup (yes cup, i’m classy) of wine got knocked over onto my brand new (received as a gift) blackerry. and it was instantly fried. i was kind of too hopped up on mozarella sticks and box wine to give a care at the time, but once the morning rolled around and sobriety kicked in, the reality of my dilemma hit me like a ton of bricks. i didn’t have $600 to replace my (work) phone, and my boss was going to set me on fire, stuff me in a duffel bag, and throw me in the river for being so damn irresponsible.

cue the most giant AW, FUCK i’ve ever let out in my life.

i cried, internet. i sat in my boss’ office and tried to explain how it was an accident, and i felt awful, and i understand if i could never be trusted with technology again. it was a rough day, and he did make me feel pretty awful about it, but things got fixed and blah blah blah, he gave me a brand new shitty blackberry to use until after the holidays when he’d buy me a brand new AWESOME one.

correct. best boss ever.

woah, woah, woah… this story ain’t over.

so i spent christmas eve at the office, joking around with coworkers, and stuffing our face full of delicious foods at the potluck in the boardroom, and had our service guy set up my temporary phone. at this point? everything was coming up milhouse.

i was so excited, and got a hold of all my friends who were in from out of town, told them my phone was back up, and to give me a call for hang outs before they left. i texted dan, which i totally missed. i know, i’m a n00b. ALL WAS WELL IN THE UNIVERSE.

dan and i headed to my parents’ place for their annual open house. i mingled with old friends, and caught up with childhood buddies. i got awesomely sauced and shotgunned a beer in the garage with my lover. we cabbed back to the city, picked up dan’s friend rod, and stopped in at my place to get out of my skin tight clothes, and into my ratty skid clothes. i grabbed a bottle of wine, shoved it in my new purse, and we were off to brad’s for an evening of old Tom Green episodes and booze. hurrah!

brad lives 1.5 blocks away from my house. i swear, if i wanted to spit on his apartment, i probably could. THAT close. we walked out my apartment door, turned the corner, crossed the street, and…

SMASH

my new (vintage) purse malfunctioned and hit the frozen sidewalk. i immediately flipped my purse upsight down and dumped everything onto the sidewalk. dan grabbed my phone, pulled the battery out and immediately started wiping it down. the bottle of red i had packed had smashed into 100 pieces and soaked everything in the purse. granted, it was a new bag, so the only things i had in there were keys, my wallet, some mittens, AND MY TEMPORARY BLACKBERRY.

i sliced my finger open and there was blood everywhere. i must have looked like a freaking jackass- standing on the sidewalk, blood everywhere, screaming about a wet blackberry. perfect, i’m THAT person.

so we ran home, dan immedately started blow drying the phone, while i rinsed my hand and got blood all over my white linen shower curtain. i know the rice trick only works with water, but i figured i’d try it anyway. we let the phone to do its’ drying magic, and off we were to brad’s house.

epilogue: two blackberries destroyed by wine in two days.

what the actual fuck? how am i going to explain this one to my boss? “oh, hi sir… i’m a wine-o, please buy me more presents so i can just kill them dead. thanks.”

either this is a sign from ye allmighty that i need to ease off the special sauce, or i’m just too fucking retarded to own anything expensive.

all signs point to technology hates me, why don’t i just have a fucking flip phone, god dammit.

give me a hug, please.

or a new blackberry.

…or both

one hell of a weekend!

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oye vey.

the weekend started off perfectly when i received a card in the mail from one of my most favourite ladies ever!

on friday night i made a few alterations to my most favourite skirt in the world, and BAM, i’m fourteen all over again…

…let me refresh your memory:

hahaha. worst quality photo ever, yet SO awesome.

then my two favourite montreal boys came to visit! my old roommate skinhead jesse, and kevin. we hung out for a bit at my place, and then headed to a party…

brass monkeys, gin, tall boys, pizza, and the fireplace channel

on saturday afternoon after breakfast, i went to finish up some christmas shopping while dan went to help adam with some speakers. not even an hour after i left i got a call from dan with some terrible news. he slipped in the slush and fell, the speaker fell on his hand, and he fell ontop of the speaker. he split his finger open, broke a finger and a couple of knuckles. he HATES hospitals and the clinics stopped taking patients by that time, so i had to clean up the wound (barf), rub ointment on the open wound (double barf) and bandage him up (triple barf). ah, the things you’ll do for love.

broken boy is tired :(

that night i had my christmas work party. the pictures have already begun to surface and they are HILARIOUS. i love my co-workers and i can’t believe how hard they all like to party. i did shots with the president! THE PRESIDENT! i have a picture of the sales manager peeing on a wall, and there’s one where i’m sitting on his lap, and the director of sales has her leg wrapped around my neck and i’m licking her shin while she’s wearing a sales rep’s tie. jesus christ, man. i won’t post pictures of the evidence, but here’s what i wore!

there seems to be an ongoing theme in my life right now…

… which i’m okay with at the moment, because my only real responsibilities right now include getting to work every day, paying the bills on time, and attempting to stay alive- sort of. so i’m doing pretty okay.

in other more normal, mundane news… i got THE cutest eliment covers for four bucks on sunday!

hurrah!

my plans for the week?

tonight: clean apartment
tomorrow: make sure apartment is spotless
wednesday: early christmas eve at my apartment with mum, pops, cory, josee, and dan!
thursday: roll around naked in my presents
friday: work potluck, and open house party at my parents’ place
saturday: more christmas presents with dan! + christmas at my gam-gam’s.
sunday, monday, tuesday: holiday bender!

i’m pretty pumped!

and i’m also 100% broke.

yay, christmas!

my entire life can be summed up in an andrew wk song

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um, i don’t know where to start.

what did i do this weekend other than party? apparently nothing.

thursday night dan went out for boys’ night with his best friend because he was feeling down. what do best friends do when the other feels shitty? they drink until it has nowhere to go except, um, out. dan got home and explosive-barfed all over the front of his room. barfed on records, his doc martens box, halfway up the door… i wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to up-chuck on the ceiling. to be fair he’s almost entirely sure he ate something bad because there was a lot of blood too.

awesome?

on friday night i sat in his bed listening to the spacemen 3 album he barfed on (protective plastic still on, at the time), and drank a 40 until we had to leave to go see his band’s show. while i drank, he did this:

so punk.

and if that’s not bad enough, i blacked out at the show, drank more beer that i didn’t even pay for, and then we went to go see shitty dad’s band play at another bar, where dan bought me quartz after quartz. i don’t even remember getting home, but apparently i did, because i woke up next to my boyfriend.

dan and i had breakfast with jon & the twins and left right after because he was playing a show in montreal. i did a few groceries and walked home only to realize blackout elle lost my keys somewhere in the apartment the night before, and i hadn’t noticed because dan was the one to lock up before breakfast with his set of keys.

it’s a good thing my friends are made of gold and eat unicorns and daffodils for breakfast because gen drove to my parents’ place (about ten minutes from her house) to get my spare set, and then drove to my house downtown (halfway across the city), to let me into my apartment. i sat on the floor in front of my door reading magazines, checking facebook on my phone, and contemplating opening the bottle of wine i’d bought for my brother’s christmas party that night.

when gen finally let me in i had about 40 minutes to make an artichoke dip, shower, and look cute & sober before yet another ridiculous night.

…have any of you seen beerfest?

the glass boot? DAS BOOT? i won that in the stealing santa game at the party, and just about every human there subsequently dumped their drink in it, and i had to DRINK THA BOOT.

and drink the boot i did:

my blackout eyes are in full effect.

i don’t remember much from the evening but some arrogant stranger threatened to beat me up in my own brother’s house because she thought i was chirping her (shitty) music taste, when i was actually just yelling at the computer to stop freezing.

i bailed out at 5 in the morning, didn’t get to bed til 6, and was all fucked up for the rest of the day. i went to the grocery store again (this time with my keys), and spent my life savings on marley drank (the opposite of red bull- it has valerian and melatonin in it, etc…)

i basically snoozed on soul, mon.

a few years back i suffered from a brief stint of insomnia. to help keep a regular work routine and you know, so i wouldn’t go completely bat-shit crazy, i started taking sleeping pills or melatonin strips at night. i never had any issues with sleeping aids, but there were a few times i’d get night terrors if i’d take the melatonin. i don’t know if it was the half awake state that fucked with my head, but the terrors were awful.

that being said i spent the entire day and night having the most awful night terrors i’d experienced since living with m. when i finally screamed myself awake i went to get dan and asked him to hold me til i fell asleep, and to wake me if i started having a terror.

the next day at work was awful- i was in a constant state of gagging, and i was soaked through my clothes with a cold sweat. i think a lot of it has to do with the two benders i went on, and the fact that i probably got a total of 3 hours sleep the entire weekend, not to mention the marley’s mellow medleyi gulped down in the matter of seconds… needless to say i’m in desperate need of a healthy nap, and i have to take it easy for a few days.

party til you kill yourself, apparently?

hi, i’m responsible.

reason #538 why i’m a dillhole

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i’m really weird about sticky stuff.

honey, glue, lipgloss, the feeling of stickers on my skin… barf. i think i forgot to mention in my halloween post that the blood used in my costume? was made by julie. do you know what the main ingredients were?

corn syrup and chocolate.

…CORN SYRUP AND CHOCOLATE

those delicious things are supposed to go inside my mouth and stick directly to my thighs post-consumption. they are NOT supposed to go all over my body, and still be on my skin 12 hours later.

i think the main reason i bailed on the ridiculous party before 6am was because the shit wouldn’t dry. it looked SO awesome… but it was so thick and there was so much of it, it didn’t dry. and drunk (dumb) elle went home around 2:30am, and WENT TO BED.

i washed my face, but i didn’t wash my neck or the huge stream of sticky gunk that went down my entire torso- onto my bra and all over my tummy- even onto my undies.

from this:

to this:

…the sound my tshirt made when i unstuck it from my body actually made me dry-heave.

the worst part? i woke up and had to have an early breakfast with my buddy mike before his band practice at 11:30- and didn’t give myself enough time to shower beforehand. i stood in my sweatpants at 10 in the morning… hungover, grumpy, and irritated… scrubbing this crap off me with a washcloth.

real quote:
“daaaaaaaamn. you look so good to me right now” - tania

but in other awesome news, tania (pictured above as pochahontas… or as i lovingly called her all night: pocha-hot-ass) came to town and we made amazing halloween cupcakes for the party!

also…

i don’t know if i ever mentioned it, but i have the absolute worst luck in the entire world.

i somehow managed to throw my back out the other day, and was in agonizing pain for three days. lots of hot baths, muscle creams, back pills, and hot compresses (and mommy’s back rubs) eased me back to health and i’m feeling a lot better than i was.

AND THEN

this morning, i was curling my hair and getting ready for work, when i was trying to find a comfy way to sit (due to aforementioned back pains), when i sat on my curling iron.

SAT. ON. MY. CURLING. IRON.

i heard it sizzle and saw it smoke.

i saw my butt skin SMOKE.

hi, i’m a fucking idiot.

home sweet hell

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just the thought of our bed
makes me crumble like the plaster
where you punched the wall beside my head
and i try to draw the line
but it ends up running down the middle of me
(most of the time)
- ani difranco

i was sitting on the floor of my one bedroom attic apartment, looking around at its emptiness. i wanted so badly to love that house- it’s charming red and yellow kitchen with the polkadotted wall paper, the clawfoot tub in the aqua-coloured bathroom, the slanted sunroom with broken screens. everything about that place was charming. i loved the original wood floors, the heavy doors, the smells, the sounds it made at night. i loved the crinkling sound of the records spinning in the living room as i put away our clean clothes in the bedroom. i loved the dining room- even after he’d painted one wall blood red, on a whim. even after i’d moved our misfits poster from the bedroom door, to the wall behind the front door, to hide the broken plaster where his fist had gone through that one summer night.

we had a 13inch television that sat on an empty moving box in the living room and we stole cable from the neighbours downstairs. we had a computer that didn’t work, sitting on a broken desk. we had an old blue sofa i scored online for $20. we had a tiny table big enough for two, and we had a chess set. we had an old futon mattress for a bed and one black dresser- we shared both. we had an empty fridge and empty cupboards. we had one lamp, and a pile of books. we had a record player and two records. we had a dictionary, an old barrel we used for a side table, and one plant i couldn’t even keep alive.

that’s it.

i often wonder what our neighbours thought- if they could hear his yelling, and my crying. if they could hear us running after each other down the stairs, and into the night- screaming at each other in the middle of the street. i wonder if they were nervous when it was quiet- too quiet. i was always scared they’d call the police, they’d take him away, and i’d be alone again. i wanted anything but to be alone in that house again.

i started having night terrors when he wouldn’t come home. i’d have these vivid dreams where i’d wake up to the sound of a record spinning in the living room, and when i’d go in to turn it off, something would grab me by the legs and drag me through the house, screaming. and when i wasn’t having night terrors, i wasn’t sleeping at all. i’d lay in bed with the cat and just stare at the walls… contemplating my way out, wondering if i could ever live without him. wondering if i could escape him, if i even tried.

i look back now and wonder why it took me so long to leave- why i was so in love with him despite everything. we had so many plans to fix our horribly broken relationship- we thought we could rebuild ourselves in that tiny little apartment. and we tried… we’d have long bubble baths in our giant tub, and we’d read books together in bed. we would lay on the couch and rub each others’ feet and watch cartoons. but when the money ran out, the food ran out. and then it became a fight for survival. we had no hope and i had become too tired to try anymore. so we stopped trying at all. he’d be high on drugs and the adrenaline of effortless hate, and i would be the target. i was always his fucking target.

but i wanted so badly to be the one to fix him, to fix us.

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one box of wine – one box of tampons = responsibility!

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10

i had a pretty relaxing and awesome weekend!

on friday i went over to bizkoti’s and watched a few horror movies with friends, ate some pizza and drank beer. i headed home around midnight to catch up on some sleep.

on saturday i went to breakfast with some old lady friends i hadn’t seen in awhile. we then went to a couple of stores looking for cute house stuff. i bought a really cute print for my bedroom, and some scented candles.

after shopping, gen and i hung out at her place for a few hours and then got cheese burgers and went back to my place to drink wine and hangout for a bit.

gen is a babe, obviously

i’ve been bailing on dan because he works late a lot and i’m usually too tired to meet up with him when he gets off work… but this saturday i’d promised him i’d stay awake enough to get silly.

…and get silly, we did!

we listened to rap all night, danced in my living room, and talked about some important life decisions. dan drank himself into wine sweats and stopped making sense by 4am… when brad and jon came over to help me finished the box of wine dan and i started.

this is brad looking like a babe wearing my $100 sweatpants:

after jon had broken a second wine glass, we sent him home to sleep, and brad and i watched star trek til 6am. consequently, i slept until 7pm the next day, and did not move from this spot…

i’ve also stepped in glass like, 4 times since yesterday! silly boys.

in other news, i was in a rush this morning, and i totally ran out of the house in such a hurry that i forgot an important bag of things you definitely need if you’re uh, bleeding.

it’s like, once a month i forget to be a girl and keep necessities in my purse. i’m super smart like that.

me: i need to run to the pharmacy for a female emergency! now!

my boss: a WHAT?

me: a female. EMERGENCY.

my boss: do you wanna wait two minutes and we’ll go for coffee and i’ll take you?

me: real 2 minutes? because it’s kind of an emergency RIGHT NOW!

boss: *awkward laughter*… meet you back here in 5

… so i go to the corner store by my work and they’re OUT! they had 6 different name brands of pads- which i haven’t worn since i was probably 12… and also, gross? so i ran back and had this conversation with my boss:

me: THEY’RE ALL OUT AND WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIE

my boss: meet me in the car

me: SKREEEEEEEEE

anyway… he brought me to a pharmacy, and waited in the car while i took care of business, and charged tampons to my credit card because apparently i blew all my money this weekend.

i’m bad at life math.