Hope comes tumbling down slowly. Like a storm. Slowly, clouds form from thin white whisps in the sky. You can feel the pressure building in the air as they grow, and you can taste the rain before it falls. Then they come falling on your head in little skinny drops then big fat drops then faster and faster. Eventually you're surrounded by water and can't tell if its coming up, going down, staying or leaving. It's a slow process: A storm, losing hope. The only difference is you can't drown in a storm.

I Resolve

Every year up to this point my New Year's resolution has been to not have any New Year's resolutions. I've always thought there was no point. No one keeps them anyways, and if you really think you should be changing something in your life enough to resolve to do it in the New Year, why wait? Get off the couch and start now. But I, growing into the bright young lass that I now am, have realized that sometimes it takes just the thought of the New Year as a fresh start to make you want to do things a bit differently. "This year will be different" is a state of mind and (most of the time) a necessary kick in the pants. So instead of my usual resolution to not resolve, this year will be different. I will post here my first New Year's resolutions of all time with you, the public, as my witnesses.

I resolve to live every day in the present, and enjoy every moment as it is happening.
I resolve to go to the gym five days a week.
I resolve to plan a trip to England by myself, without my parents help.
I resolve to go to all my classes, and never sleep in.
I resolve to go out no more than once a week, and never on a Friday.
I resolve to stop obsessing over things I don't have.
I resolve to stop eating so much damned chocolate.
I resolve to get at least eight hours of sleep every night.

There. Now I have to keep them.

Holes

When something is missing in your life and you can't find it, you replace it with something else. Your brain has a happy medium, and when that medium is thrown off you make compensations. Some people overeat, some people cheat on their wives, some people take a pottery class. People replace something they need and don't have with something they've decided they want. My medium is off, and my brain is trying to find something to restore it. That's why I always feel like there's something missing. A hole. So I'm compensating by moving abroad for a couple months. Maybe I can find whatever's missing by leaving everything familiar for a while. I wish that I knew what it is that I want so badly. I tend to make inferences and assumptions about what it could be, but they're never right. Introspection is my downfall, and virtually the only person I can't read well is myself.

But the brain is simple, really. People are predictable, and all you need to do is look for general patterns in their behaviour to figure them out. That's why I like psychology. Every behaviour has a cause, and by knowing that cause you can deduce what they'll do next. People make sense, and I like that.

So someone analyse me, because I can't figure me out. If I'm such an emotionally wealthy person, why am I always searching for something more?

Santa Baby

I dare you to tell me I don't have the most thoughtful parents in the universe when it comes to Christmas gifts...

1) A plane ticket to England where I will be living and working for part of this summer. Boo ya.
2) A one year membership to the gym.
3) An iPod Nano (greatest invention ever.)
4) $400. When I mentioned that I can now pay my bills, my mother yelled at me and said that I wasn't allowed. I have to spend this on myself, and they're giving me separate cash for utilities.
5) A hamster ball for Elizabeth Taylor. I love it, except we've had it for less than 24 hours and my dog already managed to kick her down two flights of stairs.

All this and I was on the naughty list this year (take that Santa. Boo ya.)

Where is Home?

There comes a point when the house you grew up in doesn't feel like home anymore. I never thought this old, dirty house I'm renting could ever feel like home, but it really does. Maybe home isn't just the place where you live, but also the people who you share it with. I'm closer with my roommates then I ever have been with anyone in my family. I can truly be myself in our house. You censor yourself in front of your parents and your siblings but with your friends you can let it all out. Maybe that's why this old house has become home. I feel so comfortable just being me in this space with the people I love.

But we're moving in the spring. In May we all move together to a brand new apartment just three houses down from our Albert street shanty. I'm sure that place will become home too because we'll all be together. Of course I'll miss this place and the mice, the creaky floors, the dust, the washing machine that doesn't work and the never-ending pile of dishes. But at least the best part of the house is moving with me.

One of the things that scares me the most is the big blank space after Laurier is over. Each of my roommates is headed in a different direction; grad school for economics, sex therapy, chartered accounting, medicine and me with my Psych degree that I don't know what to do with. Who will live with me? Each of us is going somewhere different. We'll all scatter, but I can't imagine living somewhere without them. No other roommates could ever measure up. I can't even bear the thought.

So all there is to do at this point of course, is to enjoy myself and the time my roommates and I have together. There's nothing else I can do. But there will always that fear in the back of my mind about what will happen once this is all over. Life itself doesn't scare me, just that I'll lose the bonds we've made. I've never felt this close or comfortable with anyone before, and I don't want it to ever go away.

"Never leave me."
"You're the love of my life, of course I'll never leave."

I didn't choose this role, but I'll play it. I was cast onto an stage of pretence, ignorance and false promises where the characters never remove their disguises. No one thinks the faces underneath could beautiful too. To be genuine is a sin, so I'll settle into the role I was given. Feigned ignorance is bliss.

So tell me what I want to hear and I'll try to believe you. Pretend, and I'll play along. But don't break character. Do, and I'll fall to pieces.

Disclaimer: I'm Bitter

[Disclaimer: I know lately my entries have been overly guy-related and incredibly bitter. This one is no better. My entries make me look like a cynical man-hater but I just write what I'm feeling at the moment, and lately I've been feeling like a cynical man-hater. I promise you, I will lighten-up my entries once I get out of my exam slump and have more interesting material to write about.]

I don't have a lot of experience dating. I only date guys I really like, and they seem to be very few and far between these days. When I actually start to date someone I really like, it never works out for whatever bullshit reason. I do, however, have lots of experience with guys who don't want to date me.

1) The I-just-want-to-sleep-with-you Guy. This is the most common category in my experience. These are the guys you meet at the bar in polo shirts with a beer in their hand. They enjoy one night stands, hair gel and grinding your ass on the dance floor. Usually they can't dance and just make attempts to have sex with you right there, through your clothes. This type is easy to spot because they make blatant attempts to take you home to the "party at my house after the bar" (there is never a real party) and sometimes they even ask if you'll sleep with them out-right (one guy asked me in Italian, not knowing I understood him. Funny story.) This breed is very determined but not entirely dangerous. Usually an obvious "get away from me you psycho" or "I have a boyfriend" will halt their efforts. And if you do decide that he might actually be a nice guy and give him your number he'll never call because you're not the type of girl that will put-out right away. These guys are also never good in bed, so going home with them will only result in sexual unsatisfaction and disappointment.

2) The I'm-still-getting-over-my-ex-girlfriend Guy. A rare breed and the most dangerous, these guys are recovering from a serious break-up. The longer the relationship was, the more dangerous this type is. They are usually very nice, very charming and very good kissers so it is easy to get fooled into liking them. The reason this type is so dangerous is that you'll really start to like them but despite your best efforts they wont want to get involved. They got their heart broken by the Ex and wont let you get close enough to break it again. They are on high defensive alert. As soon as it starts to get a little bit serious you get "it's just not working out" or "I don't want a girlfriend right now" or "you're a nice girl, lets stay friends." You're the rebound girl. It really doesn't matter how much he likes you, its never going anywhere except to shit. So if he says he's had a really serious relationship in the recent past, just say no.

3) The I-just-want-to-be-friends Guy. I've only come across this type once or twice in my life, but they can be even more dangerous than the I'm-still-getting-over-my-ex-girlfriend guy. This is because you're already emotionally involved with him... you love him as a friend. The problem arises when you start to develop a crush on him but he doesn't see you that way. This type enjoys long talks about other girls, cuddling and telling you how great you are. Follow one (of the many) cardinal rules of dating: Friends should stay friends. If he wants to be more than friends, he'll tell you. Or jump you. Either way, you'll know. Don't risk the friendship just because you're horny, it's not worth it.

Of course not everyone fits into these three categories, and there are those guys that actually do want a serious relationship (I've never come across one, but I hear they're out there.)

Oh God, someone save me from my cynicism... now.

The Future, Cabooses and the Colour Pink

I was talking to a friend the other day about the future. She knows what her starting salary will be coming out of University and where she'll be working. She knows who she's going to marry and how many kids they'll have. I don't know what I'm doing tomorrow.

I honestly have no clue what I want to do once I graduate, and I'm happier that way. I'm glad I'm not one of those people who knows everything about themselves ten years from now. How incredibly boring to already know exactly where your life is headed and what the future holds. For me, everyday is exciting because I have no idea what will happen. Really, my options are endless. Some people may see this lack of planning as flighty or irresponsible, but I don't think I could live any other way. How stressful life would be to always be reaching for some distant goal and constantly looking to the future to see your life. What about today? It is a strong asset to have goals for your life and to work towards achieving them, but only to an extent and only for some people. An ultimate goal, like becoming a psychologist or a financial accountant, really isn't necessary. I have plenty of goals. Right now, my goal is to graduate from University with a degree in psychology. After I've achieved that, I'll set a new goal. I don't know what it is yet but that doesn't really matter, does it? Live life in the present, because most of the time your future plans get fucked up anyways. By not having any, you'll never be disappointed with how your life turns out.
__________

Quote of the day from 3 year old Abigail:

"I'm not the caboose today."
"Yes, you're always the caboose. You're a very important part of the train."
"But I'm not a train, I'm a girl."
__________

Pink on a male is everything that is wrong with society today. There are several very complicated reasons for this that I will attempt to explain.

Firstly, men would never wear pink under normal circumstances. That would be the very last colour of shirt they would choose from an array, yet you see them more and more frequently. This is because American Eagle, The Gap and Old Navy got together one day and said, "Hey, pink hasn't been in style for awhile. Lets make pink cool!" So they started making men's shirts in this girlie shade and selling them in their stores as a trendy new look. Since we're obviously all lemmings, men started buying and wearing these shirts. They thought they would either a) attract females by wearing the newest trend or b) make themselves look prettier. Pretty in Pink. When I see a man in pink, I immediately decide he is a brainless, can't-think-for-himself, city boy. Which brings me to my second point.

Why isn't it ok for a man to wear a colour that is associated with being girlie? What is so terrible about simply wearing one of the colours that occurs naturally on the planet earth? Our society breeds manly men, and anyone who displays even a tiny ounce of femininity is a pussy. It's so hard for men to balance what women want from them and what other men expect from them. Women want a macho exterior with a sensitive inside, and other men expect promiscuity and a callous inside. No feelings allowed. If he spends more time with his girlfriend, suddenly he's whipped. It couldn't possibly be because he loves her and wants to spend time with her. Is there a happy medium between macho and feminine, or rather should there be a happy medium? Wear pink if you want to, it's a nice colour. And fall in love, I hear it's great.

(But really, don't wear pink.)
__________

A Last Glance

Have you ever said goodbye to someone knowing it was the last time you'd ever see them? A final farewell, a last glance, a photograph in your mind of how they looked as they walked away from you for the last time. I have two...

I thought at the time it would be a while before I saw him again, but then the unthinkable happened and I knew I already had my last glance. I ran into him on the street outside the high school. It was a smiling wide, running, jumping into his arms moment.
"I miss you!! Why haven't you called?!?!"
"I miss you too and I don't have your number, stupid!"
He was in school, he loved it, he bought a new green bike with shocks. We promised to never let that much time pass between visits again. That summer was the worst summer of my life (S.H.)

I knew when he didn't kiss me goodbye. After a tumultuous night with tears and no sleep and police cars he didn't kiss me. My second boyfriend, my first love. I knew it was over even though I didn't know why, it was just a matter of time. Watching him drive away, I saw in his eyes that he was catching a last look of me too. Together watching the distance between our bodies grow apart, time slowed down just enough for us to capture that moment as the end of an era (S.M.R.)

Dislike by Definition

To Dislike Someone Through Association: When you meet someone, but haven't spent enough time with them in order to say you like them or not. Then you hear rumours from someone that this is not a nice person and all of a sudden you start to notice they're a little bit rude, they talk about themselves too much, they kind of snubbed you a bit there. Suddenly someone who should have gotten a fair chance is labeled unfairly because of a bad rumour.

To Dislike Someone Through Spite: When you initially meet someone and are in competition with them for something. It could be grades, it could be that you want the same boy/girl, it could be anything really. They are fighting for the same thing you want, and you hate that. Suddenly someone who could have been a very nice person under different conditions is labeled unfairly.

Neither of these situations applies here.

I'm screaming and scratching inside, but my outside is cool and collected. I feel like I'm constantly holding my breath, and one of these days my screams of frustration will burst out of my lungs. Manipulative people are hard to see through, but come on people! Am I the only person who sees the giant rattlesnake in the room?

What do you do when someone you love loves someone you hate?