Welcome to Miami

I'm baaaaack!

Such a great trip, as expected. And now that I'm so greatly relaxed and tanned and de-stressed I can go back to the world of essays and assignments and class (minus that last one. I never go anyways.) I'd enlighten you to the weight of my workload if I didn't think your brain would explode from the magnitude of it all, and implode from the monotony. That's right, you would implode and explode at the same time. It's that bad.

Let's get to the point.

The trip was fantastic. Miami is one of those places you'd think was specifically created for young people because of the crazy night life, yet there are so so many elderly living there. Our condo consisted of wrinkly old people, and us. That is all. And those dumb asses from Wisconsin, but I'll explain that later.

So this is our lovely condo at 5005 Colins Ave. There was a bus station right across the street which made it so easy for Lay and I to travel around and see the sights. We took the bus every day to Lincoln Road, to Bayside or South Beach. There was so much to see, and we actually managed to fit it all in within the small time frame we had.

So we left at 4am from my house for the airport in Toronto and didn't get in to Miami until about 2pm. We were so excited the night before that Lay and I only had an hour of sleep that night. Needless to say we were exhausted. Luckily it started raining before we could consider going to the beach, so we napped. For four hours. I know.

That night Lay's parents took us out for dinner at this great place on Lincoln road. This was the only time during our trip that either of us got carded, if you can believe that. And we were with her parents.

After dinner her parents left us and Lay and I walked along Lincoln road for a bit. There are a ton of little shops and cafe's, and we stopped at one for a cocktail. It was a little cigar bar, and here we met our pharmacist friends from New Orleans who wanted to take us skinny dipping. No, we didn't. Do you know me at all? I just made them think they had a chance until I got bored with them, and we left for home.

The next day was spent on the beach, and we burnt ourselves to little crisps. We took pictures of ourselves with our lovely burns, but those will remain in my private collection (because we look like cherry tomatoes. Not sexy.)

That night we went to Bayside to Bongo's which is a classy little Salsa club, and you all know salsaing is one of my passions. There's such a large Latin American culture in Miami. We met people from all over South America at this club. This guy in my picture was from Brazil, but unfortunately he had no idea how to dance. That's me yelling steps into his ear to try to get him to lead me properly.

After the bar we made friends with some homeless people on the bus. Luckily we are super friendly and Canadian, or I believe we'd have been raped and left for death that night. There were so many freaks on the bus, so many people asking for handouts just because of the way we were dressed. They assumed we had money to give away. We made friends with one homeless guy who warned us not to give money to people because they'd use it for crack. Oh, good. Did he know this because he was a crackhead? Hopefully. That would make the story way more interesting.

Here's some lovely scenery for your viewing pleasure. This was across the street from our condo. All the rich and famous park their yachts right by the highway so all the tourists will snap pictures and awe at how fabulous the boats are. Aren't they just fabulous?

We didn't end up going to the Ultra Music Fest after all. I'm not that upset, it would have been really expensive (almost $120 American when you take the whole day into account) and we just wanted to kick back, so we spent the day in South Beach instead. It was super busy because of a music conference that was going on over the course of two weeks or so, and we were catching the tail end of it. I liked South Beach, but it was where all the "beautiful" people spent their time. Lay and I were dressed quite nicely by normal standards, but I felt out of place because I wasn't wearing 8 inch heels and a Gucci bathing suit.

This was our view down the beach as we were tanning on Sunday at Miami beach. The entire coast is lined with hotels and condos and they stretch down for miles and miles. It makes you wonder what the beach looked liked before all the industrialization. There isn't much wildlife now, obviously. And I supposed everyone likes it better that way.

It was pretty quiet on the beach where we were. I thought there would be more people walking by with their stereo's and Dior sunglasses, but I guess our stretch of beach was more for condo owners than spring breakers. I'm glad, though. Lay and I relaxed in the quiet and the sun during the day and went out at night. It was the perfect combination of partying and relaxation for our vacation.

Here you go, as promised. Me in a bikini. Enjoy.

And Lay in the bubbly hot tub. Don't ask where the bubbles came from, I don't really wanna know...















This is my fav pic of Lay. She look about 12 years old with her pigtails and her cutesy towel, I love it.

We took so many bus pictures. There's nothing else to do when you're waiting to get where you're going. This one's my favourite though. This is us on our way to Bayside for dinner on Sunday. We were on the bus for two hours because the traffic was so bad.















After dinner at Bayside on Sunday, we crept over to another salsa club for some dancing. The minute we sat down, these two 40 year old men from Honduras (Abrahim and Carlos) bought us drinks. Abrahim was in love with Lay, and Carlos was loaded. He owned some satellite company that distributes to all of North America or something. They begged us to stay with them and told us they'd buy our drinks for the rest of the night, but it was getting a bit creepy so we left.

But this was Lay's first time salsaing, woo hoo! What a good sport. This guy was from Columbia, I think. I danced with him too, he was pretty good. But he was getting sorta fresh with me towards the end so I had to ditch him.

This is me and Lay after a pitcher of sangria and all those cocktails Carlos and Abrahim bought for us. We are really happy to say the least.

Being paparazzi-ed might have been the highlight of my trip. After the bar we slipped into a private VIP party and got our pictures taken by the paparazzi. Look out for us in Star Weekly as the new party girls on the scene. We celebrated by taking raunchy pictures on the beach of each other, which will also remain in my private collection.

Afterwards we met our stupid Wisconsin friends. Five 19 year olds staying in their parent's condo, and totally dumb. We told them a bunch of silly lies that started out as jokes, but they really believed us so we played along. We live in igloos and Canada doesn't have real cars. Tractors only. And I have 3 kids. Dumb dumb dumb.

This next picture is from our trip to South Beach on Monday. Some lovely classic Hollywood architecture. Gorgeous.



On our last night we headed to Lincoln road again and found a cute little Italian coffee pub. We ordered drinks and gelato (which of course I didn't eat because of lent. I'm such a good girl.)

The next morning we headed off to the airport at 7am. Blah, the end of our trip. But I am glad to be home, traveling is exhausting with the packing and unpacking. And I hate living out of a suitcase. But this trip was exactly what I needed. Just enough booze, just enough sleep and just enough sun to make me sane again. Holla.

So Long Suckas!!

That is correct. I am going on vacation for five days in sunny Miami, Florida with my fabulous girlfriend Alayna. We'll be sunning, funning, drinking, dancing and forgetting about all the school work that awaits us when we get back. March madness hit me hard this year, and I'm still in the backlash. The minute I get back I'll be at the desk writing again, guaranteed. Bullocks. That aside, this vacation is gone kick ass. We're going to the Ultra Music Festival 8 to see Hot Hot Heat, the Killers, Prodigy and many many other fantastic artists and DJs while we're there. This is a much needed break, and long overdue.

So I shan't be seeing you for a couple days. Don't be too sad my puppies, I'll be back before you know it. And a very thorough post with many pictures of bikini clad hotties (a.k.a. me and Lay) is pending. It'll be worth the wait.

Ta.

Frustration and uncertainty in the daylight.

Then the night comes and I remember why we are. I remember why the uncertainty is tolerable. Darkness covers my heart like a warm blanket and quiet calms my tired mind. Your hand is like an anchor as the day drifts away. Stay in the night and drift away with me.

Savour each silent moment, every shift in and out of consciousness, every dream. Our bodies don't exist here, and trust becomes tangible. You trust me, and I believe you. No judgments, no expectations, no obligations.

Lets pretend the day doesn't need us, because I certainly don't need the day.

Loss

"Thanks for putting up with me everyday," you wrote, but it was you that got me through. Everyday we'd laugh, everyday we'd cheat, everyday I'd like you more. I don't even remember why we started talking. You were handsome, you played hockey and you were friends with everyone. So popular. I was awkward and shy and crushed you harder than you ever knew, but you still humoured me. Maybe you were just being nice, but that almost makes it worse.

The other two boys weren't even scratched, with no understandable explanation. No one wants their summer to end with a tragedy, no one wants to hold a vigil on the first day of school, no one wants to think about losing a model student, the most handsome and kind boy I knew.

When I think about you, and I do, I remember how nice you were to me. I was never the pretty girl, but you always made me feel that way. You made me feel like I deserved to know you.
__________

One night. One night spent on the beach just walking and talking was all it took for us to fall hard. I should have let you kiss me, you kept saying how much you wanted to. But I was a good girl then and didn't want to cheat. I wish I had known that night was the only chance I would have with you. Such chemistry in the sand, barefeet digging in and out, hands grazing, eyes catching and locking. After that it was never the same and I always had regrets about you. Then your story ended suddenly, in black and in tears. An only child, a regret, a dream.
__________

I can't remember why we connected, but everyday we spent more and more time together. Third period was devoted to you, then lunches too and after school every Friday night. Pretty soon you were my first really close boy friend. All my friends fell in love with you. You were unpredictable, sarcastic and passionate which I guess explains why you went like you did. It still perplexes me, though. People have a tendency to blame themselves in these situations, and I definitely did. If only I had called, if only I had known. I could have changed your mind. I blamed myself and I blamed you. I called you a selfish son of a bitch. "Why the fuck did you do this to me?" I'd scream at the top of my lungs, choke back my tears and let out every shred of frustration and anger that had built up over my entire life. I've never been so angry as I was with you.

Now I've accepted it as something you had to do. You chose your way, you chose your time and you let everyone know that you loved them. That's more than most get when they go. They usually fight it and we all fear it, but you hit it head on. You took control of your own fate and faced death with your favourite song playing in the background. You were always thrill seeking like that.
__________

Always thinking, never just being

I want to turn it off.

Everyday, every bit of my life goes through an analysis. Making interpretations and predictions. What could happen next? What does this mean? It seems life cannot just be lived, it needs to be understood. Why this deep need to understand every facet of every experience? There aren't answers for everything, and it is the things we don't understand that engulf us and distract us from the pleasure of just being. In this life experience is everything.

Experience only has value because we learn from it, and we only learn from it because we analyze it. So maybe once we've learned enough to get by and are reasonably wise about this life, we can turn off the analysis. Turn off the gears at will and experience life with no predictions or interpretations.

I want desperately to just be. To just live, but I don't know how.

Just when you make me think one thing...

I gave up chocolate for lent, which is funny considering I already gave it up as a new year's resolution. So yes my puppies, that resolution failed miserably. The resolution failed, but I'm on day 10 of lent and doing ok. I'm not doing great. Oh, no. I haven't had a single chip of chocolate for 10 days which is good, but I'm miserable. When I look back, I'd eat it at least once a day. I know, I'm an addict in it's true form. I crave it too, especially when I'm stressed. I hate being dependent like that, so I gave it up. We'll see how long before I crack. I'll keep you posted.
__________

10 Things I hate about whatever:
1) Commercials. Even the funny ones, I mute them all.
2) Girls that don't know how to run. It's not rocket science ladies, take some lessons before you kill yourself with those flailing arms.
3) Simple Plan. No explanation needed.
4) Fast cars. What's the point? You're driving in the city, where the limit is 50 everywhere. Are you going to speed in between all those red lights? Woo hoo! This is really fu... ok it's over.
5) High heels. We all know men invented them. On second thought, this is a love/hate relationship.
6) People. You all suck. Actually, this is a love/hate relationship too.
7) Fat sweaty people that try to hug you. Don't ask.
8) Furry boots. You aren't in the arctic ladies, what's with those baby seals on your feet?
9) Bad singers. Shut the hell up, you sound like crap.
10) I can't think of another one. You can tell me what I've missed.
__________

Just when you make me think one thing...

... you go and do something like that to throw me off.

"Come here" he said, reaching an arm in my direction. I swivel around in my chair and smile, but I hesitate. I'm always hesitating it seems. His hand waits for me to make up my mind and my mind waits for a sign. Something to ease all those second thoughts and make me feel ok about what I want. "Come here" he says again. And I get up, but stop and drop to my knees at the edge of the bed.

These are the moments that make me believe I shouldn't. You never did make up your mind about me before, so I learned not to read your signs. I'm always just waiting. Waiting for anything.

"Please tell me something! I need to know something. Anything!" It's more a plea with myself. And with such desperation in my voice, I can hardly believe these words are coming out of my mouth.
"Well, I think you're amazing." He's so calm. Maybe that's his way, maybe it's the gin and tonics.
"Anything else?"
He stands and smiles at me with those squinting eyes. How he can soften my demeanor with a look even now, I'll never know. "Well, I'm fucked up. You know I'm fucked, right?"

As if it's some excuse for everything that hasn't happened.

"I don't really know what's going to happen."
"Well what do you hope will happen?"
"Hoping and knowing are very different."

They are. I never really know, and I hold back from hoping. My hopes have gotten me hurt more than once before.

Ode to Alayna

This picture was taken on one of the best nights this past summer by far. Alayna and I got silly drunk at the bar, flirted with boys until it closed and came home hungry. We raided my fridge where we found a mountain of watermelon, and proceeded to take about 20 pictures of ourselves in the kitchen with the watermelon. Yes, there was a watermelon in every picture. You can tell how inebriated I am as I clearly can't hold the camera straight.



So I met Alayna this past summer when she hired me to work for her. That's right, I'm a year older than her and worked underneath her. I never thought of her as my boss, I don't know if that's a good or a bad thing, but she was always super fun and up for a good time. No matter what she always had a positive attitude and for May and June we pretty much spent every weekday together. And by that I mean from 8:30am to 11:00pm. Those were some long work days, but she made them fun. After the two month stint working for her, I got another job but still hung out with her all the time. She was my saviour this summer. There weren't many people I knew who stayed in the city, so anytime I was lonely I'd give her a ring and we'd go get ice cream or go to the bar for beer and wings.

She is still my saviour, now. Anytime I need to get out the house or need a break from reality she's there to rescue me. I always look forward to our dinner dates because it's a break from the monotonous. We make a point to always go somewhere different for food. We've experienced Thai, Chinese, Korean, Egyptian, Indian and Taiwanese food together to name a few. It's so refreshing to dress nice and go out just for a few hours to chat and catch up. We always have good times together. She's so down to earth which makes her easy to get along with and she's hilarious. Sometimes she'll say something so funny when you're not expecting it and leave you in stitches. I love this girl.

A couple months ago, Alayna messaged me and asked if I want to go to Miami with her. All I had to pay for was the flight, she said, because her parents have a time share in a condo right on the beach. We can spend the weekend shopping, tanning, dancing and forgetting about reality all together. I'm not usually one to spontaneously agree to something like this, but how could I say no? And now we've planned our vacation, bought our tickets and are counting down the days (only 16 to go! And a detailed post with pictures to follow.) We are going to have the best time together, because we're both such laid-back beach bums. I can't imagine someone I'd rather go away with, and I'm so thankful she invited me. Without this vacation in the back of my mind, I would surely be going insane by now. I'm beyond excited!

You deserve this ode my dear, thanks for being totally awesome.

Rant

Reading week? They should have called it "rest-before-we-try-to-rape-you-in-the-bum-and-steal-your-soul-at-the-same-time-when-you-get-back" week. I tell ya, if still had a life, I would be six feet under. I hate you, irony.

Here's a message for all of you entering your third year of psychology...

Developmental really means learning. Learning really means neuroscience. Neuroscience really means chemistry. And you're fucked if you don't know chemistry.

You're welcome to join my "Victim's of Ass Rape" support group after next year if you like.

Tell me.

Tell me there's still time left. I'd follow you into the dark before standing here alone in the light. You are my excuse for everything, and I am your living legacy.

Tell me there's still time. Time to spend in argument, in comfortable silences, in gratifying conversations about everything. Those long, revealing conversations are my comfort. My security blanket. And you.

Tell me. Lie to me. Wrap your arms around me like you always do and say it will all be ok. Everything is perfect and nothing changes inside those arms. I'm still the girl I used to be, and you are still my rock.

Tell me there's still time left for us. The you and me that always was. The understanding, the common ground, the giggles and the tears. The comfort between us is irreplaceable, indescribable. Without you, there is no me.

So tell me. Tell me that this too shall pass. Tell me not to worry and that this world is a just and fair place. Because without your assurance, I'm never so optimistic.

This is for all the Irrational Basketcases out there

You know who you are.

I admit, I expect a lot from people. I expect them to be smart, rational, level-headed, easy-going and fun. Maybe it's because I am all of those things. I've figured shit out enough to hold those attributes, and I expect other people should have their shit figured out too. I sometimes forget that a lot of people are irrational and it throws me off. I don't know what to do in situations where people blow things out of proportion, exaggerate and create drama where there is none. I kind of sit there with my mouth agape, waiting for the punch line. Nope, no punch line, they're serious. *Cough*

What makes a person irrational? Do they think they're being rational, or is it some kind of sick game? I hate drama and will avoid it at all costs, but it seems that some people create it just for fun. They want their lives to be little soap opera's where there's always a fight between someone, some kind of tension and a hospital. Someone needs to be sick and in a hospital, it's one of the soap opera rules of thumb. That, and being pregnant with someone else's baby. I can't be around irrational people for too long or I'll die. Seriously, I'm a ticking time bomb of death. I just want to pull my hair out, then slap them in the mouth and tell them how it is in real life. Not their made-up irrational life of creating fights where there are none.

Of course, everyone has angry moments. But it doesn't take much for me to control my anger, so why do others have such a hard time? I'll take a deep breath, pace around a little bit and then confront the person with a level-head. I can't hold a grudge, and before there was even a fight, it's over and everything is normal. This is why I can't understand people who have fights that last for days and weeks on end. Aren't you tired? I thought people wanted to be happy, not pissed off for some stupid-ass reason for weeks and weeks. I couldn't handle all that anger welling up. Maybe that's why people shoot up convenience stores. An overload of grudge-holding. Just take a deep breath, people. I promise, taking deep breaths will save the world some day.

Inhale, exhale, all better.

Oh, the Nostalgia of it all

Every time I come back to my parents house I make it a ritual to go through all my childhood stuff. Not for any other purpose than to satiate my curiosity. I flip through old year books, read my journals and revel in the nostalgia of it all.

I had forgotten that I used to write a lot of poetry. Some of it was good, most of it awful and none of it am I going to post because it's all dreadfully embarrassing. Today I sorted through stacks of shuffled papers with prose scribbled on them, words I thought were so deep then and know they just make me laugh. I never wrote happy poetry either, it was all depressing stuff. And most of it was written after I had lost someone close to me, or after I was dumped.

So I was flipping through all these papers and found a stack of letters to myself. These letters I've written every three years since I was ten. On my birthday, I write to myself three years in the future. A time capsule of sorts recording my favourite outfits, my grades, boys I liked, advice for myself and what I thought I would be like when I opened up the letter. It's something I always looked forward to reading. It's humbling. Sometimes you forget what hopes you had for yourself in the future. Much of the information written I had forgotten about. Boys I hadn't thought about in years, outfits I wouldn't be seen in for a million, grades I will never see again (I was very studious in high school. Don't know what happened there.) These things were so important to me then. It's strange to think that I couldn't remember most of the things I wrote myself.

So does this mean that all the things I think are important now are going to be irrelevant three years down the road? Isn't that depressing. I suppose it's the whole lessons learned as you get older thing. Damned learning. It ruins everything we thought we knew.

Just Start the Chase

I have no idea how I managed to live in this house by myself all summer. My roommates are gone one night and I can't stop imagining that people are going to break in, find me and attack me. I'm not supposed to be here, I'm a student and it's reading week. I'm supposed to be off in Cuba sun tanning or something. It doesn't help that our house is the oldest of all student houses. Every creak and murmur is some psycho waiting to pounce. I just took a walk around the whole place with a knife peeking around corners for intruders, if you can believe that. And all summer I managed on my own just fine. Except for the time I locked myself in my room because there was a squirrel the size of a cat in our kitchen, but that's another story.
__________

I love unexpected surprises. Like waking up to a foot of snow and class cancellations. I was supposed to write a midterm and lead a ninety minute seminar on emotion. I wasn't prepared for either. I may have a new faith in God, actually.
__________

"I get you, it's ok."
"No you don't. You just met me."
"Don't worry about it, I just get you."
"How arrogant! You think you get me after the whole two hours we've known each other? You don't think I'm a little bit more complex than that?"
"Apparently not. But don't worry I just get people sometimes."
"Uh huh. I get you too. You think you're the shit because you have a fancy job and Italian leather shoes, when really you don't have a clue about people. Don't think just because you make more money than me that you get me."
"Ok, saucy pants."
__________

Just start the chase, and I'll let you win.
Not until this very moment have I ever pictured my life without him.
I think I'm falling in love.
We need to talk.
You have no idea how much I want you.
I can't believe he slept with her.
Did she say anything else about me?
You aren't who I thought you were.
I'm so happy right now, just kissing you.
I feel like I'm stringing you along and that's not fair.
Let's lay here together forever.

It all flies past, and then you're alone again.
__________

Lingering in the moment, I forget to breathe. Your eyes, my eyes, my hands twisting. Your hands calm and folded on the table. The words we both want to hear are too hard to say, so we are left with little silences between nothing conversations. The music is loud, but the tension is louder.

"I need to say something," you admit.
"What's that?" I say collectedly, my insides flickering in anticipation. Then the moment leaves us. The moment always leaves us.

Holding back is the hardest when you have something to lose.

Do I look like the type of girl who would put out?

Unofficial theme of the week: Men are heartless bastards. Going along with the hatred of all things having to do with Valentine's Day... thing. Of course since Valentine's Day is today, two of my good friends have had to brake up with their boyfriends because they are stupid, stupid men. One cheated, and the other is a lazy good-for-nothing. Each of these relationships was two years or more. Why don't they get it? Honestly, right on the day hallmark decided we should be extra nice to the one's we love. Which also happens to be the day that most people kill themselves (I was told.) Honestly, if I chose a day to kill myself it wouldn't be today. I wouldn't be able to stand the thought that so many people were getting laid on the day I die. Way too depressing, even for death.

So why is it men are built so differently from women. I swear, there are so many differences I couldn't quantify them if I tried. And at the same time, even though we are so different from each other, I think we ultimately want the same things. We want to be loved, we want companionship and we want sex. Marriage may have started as an economically motivated merger for procreational purposes, but it's turned into to the need for someone to stick by your side forever. A companion who will love you through whatever circumstances arise and who will have sex with you even when you get old and wrinkly and your body parts get loose and droopy.

So why is it that men don't realize this until years and years after women? Of course I'm generalizing (sorry guys) but in my experience, none of them seem to want commitment anymore. An explanation will be appreciated.
__________

Dance quote of the week from 6-year old Tiffany:

"Does anyone remember what a syllabus is?"
"I think it's a bus they take you on when you break your leg."
__________

So this past weekend I took a trip to Toronto to visit my best friend, and had a good ol' time. It was reminiscent of our teenage years of taking shots of straight vodka out of a water bottle on the way to the bar. I can't remember the last time I was so inebriated. When I'm drunk I am rude, blunt and disgustingly honest while trying to be cute and flirtatious at the same time. And for some reason men love it. There's something about insulting them that makes them want to sleep with you. It must be about the chase. They think I don't like them because I'm saying all these rude things to them, so they try extra hard to get me. A challenge I suppose. Or maybe it's the saucy attitude that they like. Regardless, I love pushing people's buttons when I'm drunk. I'll say the most outrageous things and see what reactions I can elicit. A game I like to play with people.

And yes, it works. These guys were practically begging me for sex. One guy whispered all the dirty things he wanted to do to me in my ear, and when he was done I smiled and said, "that sounds like fun. But only if you can tell me my name." And did he know my name? Of course not. In fact, he called me by my best friend's name.

Needless to say, he didn't get sex that night. Even if he knew my name he wouldn't get any. I just like them to think they have a chance. Does that make me a tease? Probably.

Good times.
__________

The Subconscious vs. The Unconscious

I don't believe we have a subconscious, which may be strange as a Psychology major. I especially don't buy into Freud's definition in which every person is motivated by something unknown to themselves, and usually that something is the desire to sleep with his or her parents. Of course, Freud was a quack. A brilliant quack who had some serious issues himself, I can imagine. But regardless, I can't subscribe to the idea that we make most of our choices based on something we are not aware of. I mean, we are clearly not consciously aware of every process going on in our brains but humans are metacognitive beings. We are aware that we think, we think about our thoughts and we can change them as we see fit. That is what makes us unique from almost every other creature on this planet. So how is it that, being conscious of our own thoughts, we can still be motivated by unknown operations? Don't you think we would individually discover these processes if we thought hard enough about it? On a daily basis we delve pretty far into our own minds, I'm sure something like that would surface eventually. Most people know that they do not want to have sex with their parents, and maintain that through their respective lives despite what Freud says. So I can't believe that there is some kind of process going on beneath our conscious thought.

However, I do believe that there are some things that we may not consciously know about ourselves. Sometimes there are things in our unconscious (note: not the same as subconscious) that we don't want to face or can't admit about ourselves. After all, people are discovering and rediscovering themselves every day. They are learning new things, changing opinions, adopting new strategies and getting to know the world a little bit better.

Which brings me to my point. I read a theory somewhere that says people are in exactly the type of relationship that they need to be in at that time. This seems strange considering that almost everyone complains about their relationships. No one really seems to be completely happy at the time in whatever romantic situation they are (or are not) in, including myself. I'm perpetually single, and I hate it. But I started to think about it a little more deeply. I don't want to be single. But I also don't want to be in a relationship with just anyone. I want to be with someone who will appreciate that I'm an amazing girl. I want someone who is strong and independent and who knows what he wants. I want someone who can't take his hands off me, who wants all of me, all the time. That's a lot to ask of someone, and I wont settle for less. Thus, we come back to my perpetually single conundrum. If I know exactly what I want but haven't found it yet, it makes sense that I'm still sitting here alone. Loneliness is what I need until I find what I am ultimately looking for.

Think about it. Wherever you are in your relationship right now is exactly where you need to be, subconscious processes or none.

Never quite satiated, I am an addict.
Your dirty thoughts and slanting eyes are my pills and needles.
Make me make you want me.
Make me test you, play my games and break all the rules.
Turn me in circles, push me to the ground and twist my wrists until I cry out.
Push my boundaries and get me angry on purpose.
Step out of your comfort zone and pull me out of mine.

Hurt me, but only if I beg you to.

Ode to Ryan

Of all the incriminating photos I have of my roommate, this is in the top ten. He is typically tanned, good-looking, happy and intoxicated in this one. As I'm sure he would like you to know, I wont be getting many of this kind of picture anymore. He and a few of our other friends have decided to take the high road for their New Year's resolutions and not drink for a while. Some of us aren't so strong.

Ryan is a break dancer, a lifeguard, a snowboarder, a human furnace and the best boyfriend ever (not mine, of course.) He is one of my favourite people on this planet. He and I met in our first year on the same floor in residence and decided to move in together the following year with four of our other friends. We've become much closer over the time we've been living together, and every day that he's gone I miss him. Which is every day now because he is a brilliant economist and on co-op in a different city for the next few months. (Jerk.)

Ryan is the most kind, loving and affectionate person I have ever met. He's my couch cuddle buddy, my surrogate husband and my dear friend. It's rare to find a kindred spirit, but Ryan is one. I respect him, I admire him and I take his every word to heart. Ryan is a beautiful person in every respect, and those of us who know him know just how lucky we are.

"You're beautiful of the soul and of the face."

(Love ya.)

Anyone here wanna see me naked?

A student asked me today if next year is my last year teaching. I never realized it until she brought it up today. I guess I blocked it out, not wanting to have to think about saying goodbye to my career teaching dance. Next year is the end of an era. Graduation, starting a new field of work and cutting ties with the community centre which will have been my home for five years. I've left my mark of course. I've influenced change and brought new ideas and creativity to the dance program but I don't want to fade into the background. I couldn't handle coming back and not being known. I've worked too hard.
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I saw Urinetown, a musical put on by LMT, the other day. It was so well put together, so incredibly well-done and all the actors were so talented, I was blown away. It made me miss my musical days where all we did was rehearse, day and night. I got bruised, I lost my voice too many times to count, I've cried from laughing and from being yelled at by the stage directors. I learned how to dance on a narrow, slanted, moving box, I learned what a camel toe is, and I learned not to date anyone else in the show. Ever. I love theatre people. They're so eccentric, out-going and loud. I forgot that the time commitment is worth the experience. Next year, people. My re-emergence into the theatre world will be witnessed.
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Anecdote of the day: My dad met the Foo Fighters. It's sad when you're dad's life is cooler than your own.
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The only people who hate Valentine's Day are those who don't have a valentine. I hate Valentine's Day.

My girlfriends and I are going to make dinner that night in the Valentine's Day lingerie we all bought together and try to appreciate the fact that we're all hot even though we have no boys who want see us in our sexy garb. Or who want to see us out of it. And by that I mean see us naked. This is the point where you tell me you want to see me naked. Anyone?

I have never had a valentine. The only person to ever get me roses is my dad (and all those other people at my dance competitions and musicals, of course.) The point is though, no boy has ever bought me flowers and I've never been with one long enough to buy lingerie for on Valentine's Day. I love the stuff and will buy it for myself, but really it's no fun if there's no one around to see you in it.

Again, anyone wanna see me naked? Please?
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A Beautiful Disaster

Nothing magnifies self-doubt like uncertainty.

I look more worn-out than I feel. When I get to this point, I look like I've aged ten years with these dark circles and tired wrinkles around my eyes. I'm emotionally exhausted. I get plenty of sleep, it's the waking hours that take the energy out of me. The waiting, the ambiguity, the unresolved loose ends. If it was in my power, I would tie up every loose end in my life and make sure everyone lives happily ever after. I can't handle uncertainty in the present, but uncertainty about the future is necessary.

I'm a living, breathing contradiction.

A graceful wreck. A calm and collected disaster. Yes, my flaws are beautiful, but can others see the beauty in them? And if they don't does that mean I'm destined to live my life walking alone with nothing but my exquisite mistakes? That's the catch isn't it. You can believe all you want that your flaws make you special and unique, but if others don't see them that way you're fucked. Doomed to be alone.

Maybe no one has taken the time to see the beauty in my imperfections. Maybe no one cares.

But then maybe I just haven't given them the chance.

I expect our wants will parallel. I expect I'll say what I need to say. I expect to be strong of heart, and I expect the same from you.

My character flaws appear in situations like this. I usually hide them behind a screen of sarcasm and flirtatiousness, but they're visible now seen in the silent moments and awkward smiles. I can't expect much from myself around you, and you help teach me that my expectations are usually wrong.

On Validation, Dish Soap and Men (the stupid kind)

Validation is at the top of my favourite words list. It's also at the top of my "things I hate about human beings" list. I hate that some people can't feel good about themselves unless they get validation from someone else. Some people I know can't even choose a shirt without assurance from five or more people that it's "so cute." But compliment seekers are the worst. People that constantly talk about their impossible hair or their love handles just to hear their friends say, "I love your hair! And I don't see any love handles, you are so hot I swear!" News flash: If you have love handles, you have love handles. Your friends are lying to you and no one else gives a shit. Really.

I don't go around picking people apart like that, at least. And if you do, you're a horrible person.

Maybe it's just because I'm getting older, but I could care less what people think about me good or bad. I know me better than anyone else, and I like me just fine.
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Note: Do not put dish soap in the dishwasher. There will be an explosion of bubbles and a soapy mess. My brothers and sister learned this the hard way. Way to go guys.
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"Hey, mamma's boys treat their girlfriends like gold. No one else treats women better."
"Actually, if you're a mamma's boy you'll never treat a girl as good as you treat your mother."
"No, you're totally wrong."
"I read it in my psych textbook. It's true." (No I didn't.)
"Oh wow, really? You psych major's know everything."

"I'm majoring in psychology at Laurier."
"No way! So like, you know what I'm thinking right now?"
"What?"
"You're in psychic-ology, you can read minds, right?"

"You're in psych, eh? I'd better not say anything dumb around you or you'll analyze me."
"Oh ya, I do that. I go around diagnosing people left right and centre. I've already diagnosed you, actually."
"With what?"
"A small dick. And you're so afraid of being analyzed by me because maybe I'll figure that out before you try to get me in bed."
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I've already spent my forever waiting. Decades have come and gone with me dragging my feet through them in silent frustration. All that time spent squinting into the horizon, waiting for something to appear. Never knowing it was coming at me all along, just below the skyline. I can see it now. A tiny dot of hope, and suddenly I don't mind the wait. I don't care how long it takes to get to me because I know it will, and for now I'm content with just that.
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I Resolve (an update)

So in my Clinical Psychology lecture the other day I learned that some Psychologists believe January 23rd is the one day each year when the greatest number of people on earth are depressed. Why this day? Several factors are taken into consideration: The weather, Christmas debt and the job market to name a few. But the main contributing factor is that this is the time when most people start to fail at their new year's resolutions. People get depressed because no matter how sure they were on January 1st that "this year will be different," it's not, and they can't change quite that easily.

On that note, here's an update on how my first new year's resolutions ever are going!

I resolve to live every day in the present, and enjoy every moment as it is happening. This one's hard to measure, but I think it's going well. I remind myself every once in a while that sulking about school work is a waste of precious time and energy. I'm not so stressed about stuff anymore, but that might just be because it's not overload time yet. This might be a failure waiting to happen. We'll see.

I resolve to go to the gym five days a week. I'm proud to say, I've kept this one up with flying colours! Not only do I go to the gym every week day but I teach dance classes every Saturday, so technically that's 6 days a week of being active. Woo hoo! The only down side is that I can't enjoy the fruits of my labour quite yet. It takes about 8 weeks to see results, so I've gotta do this for another month before I can see that hard, sexy body I know is in there somewhere.

I resolve to plan a trip to England by myself, without my parents help. I've started this one, but it won't really apply for a couple months. I've asked other people who have done the same thing for suggestions and I've recruited a couple more who might want to go with me, but that's it. I've still got time though. I'm not leaving until May.

I resolve to go to all my classes, and never sleep in. Failed. I've already skipped two classes today. But I didn't sleep in, I went to the gym.

I resolve to go out no more than once a week, and never on a Friday. This one's not hard to keep considering my best friend is out of town this term and I have 2 seminar classes. I haven't gone out on a Friday yet, and sometimes I don't even go out at all in a week. Yay for being anti-social!

I resolve to stop obsessing over things I don't have and to be grateful for all the things I do have. There was a speed bump with this one, but it's gone much better after I re-resolved. Life's too damned short. Seriously.

I resolve to stop eating so much damned chocolate. Failed. But I'm going to the gym, so I tell myself it's ok. (I forget what they call that in Psychology. When you make yourself feel less guilty about something by making excuses? Whoever can tell me wins a chocolate bar).

I resolve to get at least eight hours of sleep every night. Failed. But I make up for it in naps.

So I think I'm doing ok. I'm not depressed, so that's a good sign. As for the rest of you suckers who have failed, way to go (insert evil laugh here). But don't give up now. February is a new month and maybe this February will be different.

Role Reversal

My poor mother was sick with the stomach flu yesterday. She had to call my aunt to take her to the hospital where she learned that the lining in her stomach is partially eaten away from vomiting. She has to take pills to repair it, and the pain is tremendous for her.

So I went home and switched roles with my mother for the first time. I cleaned up her puke, rubbed her stomach and put her to bed, which she has done for me more times than I can count. I made sure she had water, I made sure my brothers and sisters were fed and I wrote a list of instructions for them to clean the kitchen after dinner. It's a humbling experience to have to take care of the woman who raised you.

It's also humbling to have to clean up puke. Not pretty.

It made me realize how much I'm like my mother. People would say I'm most like my father, but my mother taught me all the emotional staples in life like compassion, empathy and grace. It took me a long time to appreciate that she stayed at home to raise my siblings and me. I always thought not having a job was a weakness, but now I know that she gave up more than I will ever understand. All just to make sure we had someone at home when we got off the school bus to make sure we didn't get into trouble. I could tell her anything, and she respects all my decisions in life even if she doesn't approve. She lives for the four of us to become better people. And I say that molding four people into compassionate, empathetic and graceful individuals is a pretty amazing feat in life. Way more than I could imagine accomplishing in my time on this planet.

Not many people are so selfless to volunteer all hours of the day for more than thirty years as a role model for their kids.

This can't be happening. Disbelief turns my stomach and quickens my pulse. My hands are cold. Even my dreams stopped conjuring this up after awhile thinking it's too unrealistic and too unlikely for real life. I pray I don't say something hurtful and unintentional on the defensive, because I do that. When something good happens I can't just be thankful. I get suspicious, I imagine ulterior motives and I push it away.

I'll be happy for myself and keep my feet on the ground this time. I promise.

My Job

"My daddy says that he likes when I point my toes."
"I like when you point them too."
"But his favourite thing is when my mommy sits on him."

"I need everyone to bring something to class next week that you could use as a wand. We are going to practice with our pretend wands until we get real ones. You could use a stick, or a spoon from your kitchen, or anything."
"But Miss.Emily, I'm not allowed to take spoons into dance class."

"Miss.Emily, I can't have the bee sticker."
"Why not, dear?"
"I'm allergic."
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Theory of Mind (as defined in my Developmental Psychology text): proposed by Premack in 1978. It is a person's ability to acknowledge their own and other's mental activities. Develops around age 3 or 4.

For example, if a child has not yet developed theory of mind, they would not be able to lie, because they would assume that everyone shares the same thoughts as them. A common study done to examine this phenomenon is the "candles in the crayon box" experiment. In this procedure, children are asked what they think is in the box, where they respond "crayons." When the researcher opens the box, there are candles inside. When asked what they first thought was in the box, they will respond "candles." In other words, they are unable to identify that they thought wrong. Once they know something they assume they knew it all along.

I can apply what I learn in school at my job. I pity people who have to flip hamburgers to pay for tuition.
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A good teacher is a rare thing. Everyone has that one teacher from grade school or high school that sticks out to them as really caring and changing you. My dance teacher was that for me, and I have the opportunity to do that for my girls. I love watching them learn over just weeks, and seeing them grow up over the years. Some of my students have been with me my whole 4 years of teaching, and to think that I was the one who taught them everything they know about dance is the most rewarding thing in my life. Everyone asks me if it's hard getting up every Saturday morning and driving off to work all day. Sacrificing my Friday nights, which could be spent boozing and partying. I wouldn't have it any other way. This centres me.
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Je M'ai Effrayé

I came to a horribly frightening realization today. It just kind of hit me in one of those unsuspecting moments when you're daydreaming to yourself (I was in the shower) and suddenly you remember you left the stove on or missed a doctors appointment or forgot to take your pill. In my case, it was much, much worse. I realized something I thought was inconceivable, impossible and unimaginable about myself.

I am a grown up.

Not a grown up in the way that I've discovered aches and pains and have spotted wrinkles. It came to me when I was thinking about marriage. I decided that if I (at this point in time) had someone who I could conceivably marry, I would do it and I would do it today. If I knew Mr. Right right now, we would be planning our wedding. The scary thing about this realization is that I've always thought of marriage as being far, far, far (yes, three "far's") down the road and that 21 was too young to be married. Realizing it's not really has me reeling. My rationalization is that if I find someone I want to spend the rest of my life with, I want the rest of my life to start as soon as possible. I don't need any more meaningless flings with guys who don't care where I grew up or what my favourite flower is. Dating is not fulfilling for me at all anymore, and it sucks. A lot. It's full of awkward moments, unsure words and fabrications. No one knows what to do or say, and each of you wants something different.

Another thing that came to me after my realization is that I'm never going to be living in my parents house anymore. They've preserved my room in a museum-like manner waiting for the day when I come home, but I never will. Maybe on a temporary basis, but there's nothing for me back in my home town. I have my own life and my own needs now, and am (almost) fully independent from my parents.

So when am I getting married? Not for a long, long time or ever. The point is not that I want to get married now, but that I could. Discovering the right person is a whole other story.

Americism

I'm an Americist. Meaning, I'm bias against Americans. A flaw I'm trying to work on, because clearly not every American citizen is like their leader. I just think my hatred for George Bush and the frustration I feel about all the social problems in the United States (most caused or perpetuated by him) are projected onto it's citizens, which isn't right. To me, the United States is the embodiment of everything that is wrong with society in general, so if someone introduces themselves to me as an American or having anything to do with the States I immediately form this negative judgment of them as an individual.

But today I came across a speech given by former vice-president Al Gore for Martin Luther King Jr. Day which almost showed me a light at the end of the tunnel. He talks about how Bush and his administration breaks American laws in order to seek out "terrorists" in their own country (whatever a terrorist is. It's definition has become so watered down that it could include an average Canadian. Yikes!) They illegally wire tap a large number of American citizens, which totally violates privacy laws, not to mention pure and simple human rights. Anyways, I've always had this negative opinion of Al Gore because, obviously, he's an American politician. The worst type of American. But this speech really caught me off guard. It shows that U.S. citizens are starting to speak up against the rising monopoly that the Bush government is becoming. You can catch this amazing speech here, please read it. Inform yourself about what Canada could become if we move toward a Conservative government (because as we all know, the Conservatives are most like the Bush Republican party.) Think about it.

A true friend will tell you any way she can when she thinks you're making bad choices, and she'll argue and cry and listen and try to understand. And whether she's wrong or you're wrong, it doesn't matter. She'll cry tears over you on your shoulder. A true friend knows that making your own mistakes is important so she'll watch you make them, without judgment.

I need to fail, I need to get hurt, I need to fall down once or twice before I can find my footing in this life, and I know my friends will be there to brush away the dirt on my knees and the tears in my eyes at the end of the day.

I Think I'll Start a Rock Collection

I was a well-behaved child. My parents don't know how good they had it, I tell ya. I never snuck out of the house, never smoked a cigarette and never had any secret parties. Yes I was a geek, and boring as hell.

So my theory is that I'm making up for lost time. It seems I've caught up to my peers, and even exceeded them in the areas of chugging, kissing randoms and falling down while drunk. Sometimes it tires me out and I feel like I should grow up and cut the bullshit, but other times all I want to do is drink too much and flirt and dance like I put out (which I don't. I'm a huge tease, and proud of it.) My inner geek is telling me that I'm too old for this shit and I should go study or start another rock collection. Oh, the inner turmoil of a twenty-something single woman. It's all so dramatic.

But all this going out and partying has taught me many useful lessons. One of which is that I can set a goal for the night and achieve it almost every time. For example I'll say, "I'm going to kiss a boy tonight." Everyone around me will laugh, but only I know the truth. Once I say it out loud it will happen. It's out there in the universe, and the universe is in my favour every time. Maybe it's just in my nature to always finish something I've started, but it never fails. I achieve my goals and no matter who that boy is, I will kiss him.

But as fun as it is at the time, kissing randoms until the bar closes is not at all satisfying. Most of the time they're bad kissers, and as the lights in the bar come on and the beer goggles come off you realize they're not as cute as you thought they were. And there's always the awkward "can I walk you home?" conversation where you have to break their poor hearts by admitting you're not actually a slut you just dance like one. Good times.

So maybe I should listen to my inner geek and start a rock collection. Rocks are safe and you don't need beer goggles to look at them.

I Resolve (again)

A boy who went to my high school died in a car accident a few days ago. He was 23. I didn't really know him but my parents are good friends with his parents. I can't imagine being a mother or father to someone for 23 years, and just as they're coming into their own, just as you start to see them developing into an adult it's all over. All those years of molding this person into who they'll become, influencing their every motive and choice are suddenly shattered. In that one moment everything your life was focused on for so long is gone.

I've been in quite the depressing mood lately, and hearing about this boy's death really put things into perspective. Sometimes it takes a tragedy to make you stop bitching over the little things. I was driving my car that day too, but I'm still living and breathing. One of my new years resolutions was to stop obsessing over things I don't have, but that seems to be all I've been doing. So here it is, the official restating and rewriting of new years resolution #6...

I resolve to stop obsessing over things I don't have and to be grateful for all the things I do have.

Ok, now here I go.

How do you do it? You do something to me I can't explain. You have a power over me that's intangible and out of my control. You don't know what you could be capable of. I'd let you hurt me, use me, bruise me. I beg you, take advantage of the fragile and vulnerable girl I become when you're around. Just say the right words and I'm at your feet. My strength dissolves once I see that smile in my direction, when your eyes squint a little and your expression gets dark, I become yours. So say what you will and do what you please, I only want what you want tonight.

Abuse me, because from you it's worth the pain. Do it again and again. It hurts, but at least I'm feeling. And all the words that I've cried over you will finally be worth something.

Please, Mr.Sandman

I don't sleep at night because I'm a dreamer. A dreamer in the sense that while I lay in bed trying to sleep, my mind uncontrollably imagines and creates elaborate scenes in my head. How could the events of my day have been changed, what would I do differently, who do I wish I had run into and what would I have said. I review, revise and rewrite my day in the way I wish it had gone. It's amazing what runs through my head between the time I lay down and the time I manage to fall asleep. I choreograph full ballets, I run into my ex who begs me to get back with him, I make phone calls, pay bills and at the end of the day my crush always falls madly in love with me. It's annoying really. My mind never stops running even for a second and I spend hours and hours just staring up at the ceiling waiting for a moment of peace. Just a moment to relax so I can finally fall asleep. But no matter how tired my body feels, my mind is always awake and active, thinking, planning, reeling. My thoughts are a tapestry of real people, places, events and those that I've dreamed up. Every scene has a soundtrack and a happy ending. Everything goes my way and the impossible is always in my reach.

I've tried everything to quiet my mind just long enough for me to fall asleep, but nothing works. I try not to think, I count sheep, I read my textbook until I start to doze off. But one thought always leads to another and another and before I know it hours have passed and it's almost morning. Most days I don't manage to fall asleep until the sun comes up, and my alarm clock threatens me before I get even a minute of rest. The same thing every night. If you slept next to me you could almost hear the gears turning and cranking while I lay wide awake all night.

I guess I should be grateful for my active and creative mind, but when it means my days are spent in total mental and physical exhaustion it's hard to see the upside. What is it about my mind that wont shut off at night like it's supposed to?

The Heartsick Girl

Life loses its luster. Everything that used to make you happy, all the people you cherish, all the things about yourself that make you proud are a drab shade of grey. Nothing sparkles. My life is a sine curve with predictable highs and lows, and the lows are the lowest. My friends pity me, my future is lonely, I can't feel happy no matter how I try. I bring everyone down when I drag my feet, with my sulky face and my negative thoughts. People can only ask what's wrong so many times before they get bored with my beat-around-the-bush answers. No one wants to be around the sad girl. It's frustrating, but this ditch is too deep for me to drag myself out.
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He leaned into my ear and whispered "wanna to do something?"
"What do you mean by something?" I asked, raising an eyebrow.
"We're young and the night has just begun," he said with a sly smile. He takes my hands, our fingers interlocking, weaving in and out.
I try to hold back. "I need to find my friend," I said and let go of his hands, but he grabs them again looking at me with that sly smile.
"Why do you need her when we have each other?"
I raise an eyebrow "do we have each other?" He said nothing. I wait for an answer but he just stares at our hands, fingers intertwining. "I'll talk to you later," I said, and didn't look back.
__________

Only four months left. I need to get out of here, I feel stifled. I'm bored with the same old things, the same old routine and I need novelty. People need a certain amount of novelty to stay sane, especially people with active minds. I'm afraid I'm going to become too predictable and too jaded to recover. Someone tell me to hang in there, that it'll all be ok in the end because I don't know anymore. Pessimism grows like cancer on my perspective, eating away all my hopes and past expectations for what my life could have been. Maybe everything wont be ok. Maybe everything doesn't work out the way you want or anticipate and maybe pessimism is the permanent result of constant disappointment and falling from grace.

But then maybe pessimism is just a temporary remedy for a heartsick girl.
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Ode to Amber

[This is the beginning of a new series of posts I’d like to call “Ode’s.” Anyone whom I particularly feel touched by, who is a close friend or who I generally like will have the chance to have a post dedicated to them. If you think you deserve this privilege, feel free to leave me a comment for your consideration. Let me know why you think you're deserving of a public ass kissing by yours truly. These Ode's will also only occur about once a month because of their special nature, so stay tuned (E.)]



This is for my rock, my study buddy, my beach bum, my other sister, my floor-mate, my best friend. Amber and I met in our first year at Laurier on the same floor in residence. We didn’t become really close friends until later that year because she thought I was snotty and cliquey and I thought she was anti-social and brainy. We are complete opposites. She’s a tall, blonde, super intelligent, super perky sorority girl and business major with perfect grades. I’m not so tall, brunette, street smart, a dancer and psychology major with average grades. Amber is the most social person I’ve ever met, and knows more people at our school than she can count. We became best friends the summer of 2004 when she came up to my cottage for a 4-day weekend. Since that weekend we’ve been inseparable and I can’t imagine my life without her in it. We’ve shared so much together. We’ve gone through tears and deaths, boys and break-ups, stress and parties, sweat and exhaustion. We’ve had concerts, bonfires, beaches, bars, travel, ice skating, volleyball, swimming, fireworks, birthdays, anniversaries and formals together. We’ve spooned, we’ve fought, we’ve held each other in the other’s darkest hour and we’ve been there for each other’s greatest moments in life. I would be less of a person if I didn’t know her. She has changed me for the better.

I love you.

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?

Lately I've been to busy to feel it, but my heart hurts. When I have a minute to sit with myself it pangs me. A dull ache. Loneliness is tangible and uncircumstantial. Anyone can feel it at any point, there's no discrimination between quantity or quality of relationships.

I've never felt this way before.
I never want to stop kissing you.
I want you.
I miss you.
I love you.
I could wake up next to you every day for the rest of my life and be happy.

Every girl has a bank in her memory of all the significant romantic moments in her life. We bank them like little treasures, and when we're feeling lonely we take them out and awe at their prettiness. Usually its a lift, but they all look like empty words to me now. Empty like me. All these boys are gone from my life, and all that's left are words hanging in the air.

In this world there are so many girls and so few princes.

Baaaa.

The ignorance of some people astounds me. I guess living in our society doesn't exactly require the most free-thinking and analytical of minds. Maybe waking up blissful every morning is worth being herded with the rest of the sheep, but I'll never know. I left the flock a long time ago.

I attend one of the leading academic institutions in Ontario, yet I feel like a hippie in sheep's clothing. There's so much going on on the planet, I don't want to be suffocating in my little Laurier bubble anymore. Everyone is so preoccupied with grades and friends and beer that they forget why they're really here. To better themselves and explore the depths of their intelligence. I want to learn, to explore, to be passionate and to protest when there's an injustice. No one here cares that the U.S. is torturing prisoners of war. No one knows why the government criminalizes some actions and not others. No one reads the paper anymore. When did University life lose it's real-world intelligence? I cant talk to my friends about the ridiculousness of drug laws or other political issues that affect them because they don't know... or maybe they don't care. The real issues in life have lost their importance and the mundane, irrelevant issues have taken over. Cute outfit! Lets go drinking! Whats up with Nick and Jessica? Who gives a shit! What about the fact that Bush is racist? That he takes away civil liberties because of his personal beliefs? That listening to him speak kills brain cells?

Maybe we're too lazy to take action as North Americans because we live so comfortably. We're thinkers, not do-ers. We can say, "aww, that's a tragedy," but when asked to help we're too selfishly wrapped up in our own existence to do so. But what can we do? you ask. In the larger sense, I honestly don't know. At least acknowledge that you're a moronic sheep and try to break free from the herd. I don't like where we're being herded, and I'd rather take hold of my own destiny.

We need something to get us angry enough so we'll jump off our lazy-boy sofas and make change.

This Week

Sometimes when I'm stressed or feeling overwhelmed I'll smoke a cigar by myself. It seems like a silly thing to do, but it gives me the feeling that I'm doing something naughty that no one knows about. I feel like a badass without actually being one and destroying my lungs and other organs. I honestly feel like a rebel when I'm out there on my front porch at 2am by myself with a colts. Its a temporary break from reality, a break from the self that is supposed to be well behaved, hard working and disciplined.
__________

Tell me you need me. Tell me I'm the one. Tell me there's no one like me in your world. Tell me you want me now, and why haven't we done this sooner. Tell me no one compares to me.

I need you.
__________

Everyone gets one day a year where they are reminded of the people who love them. Sometimes we forget that we're deeply loved by more people than just our parents, and that this world would be more grey for them without you in it. Yesterday I received 10 birthday cards, 22 birthday messages, 5 phone calls, jewelry, clothes and the most delicious chocolate fudge birthday cake I've ever tasted. In my birthday selfishness I decided I wanted to go to a Latin salsa club even though none of my friends know how to salsa dance, yet 16 people came and 3 more met up with us there. You know you have friends who love you when they'll dance the Merengue for your birthday.
__________

Snow is my favourite weather. The light changes when it snows and we're reminded that winter isn't just a season, it's a spectrum.
__________

I've proven to myself what I didn't even know was possible. I pulled two all-nighters in a row. Which means within the span of 48hours I slept a total of about 6 hours. The recommended amount of sleep in that span is 16 hours. How is it that I pulled no all-nighters in first or second year, but now every time I have a major assignment due I put it off until my only option is sacrificing sleep to complete it?
__________

"Will you marry me?
"Yes."
"No really, I want to marry you sometime in the future."
"I know."
"Will you marry me next week?"
"Yes."
__________

In the Waiting Line

Waiting for something to happen. I'm wasting time, sitting around, thinking about what I could be doing, dreaming. I've said this before, yet I'm still just sitting here. I feel like I could go stagnant, fade away, dissolve into dust and the world would stay the same. I have no real mission, no supreme goal, no life defining purpose.

I day dream a lot. I think that if you're content with your life, there should be no need to daze off and imagine what could be because you'd already have it. Hence my concern. I'm constantly staring into space, letting my eyes glass over and my mind race with all the other things I could be doing. Maybe I'm just jaded, but isn't that sad? 20 years old and a cynic.

School doesn't last forever, and I know that it should ultimately lead me to a career that I will enjoy. However, right now I'm bored with my life and with school. I love psychology, but I want to do it. No more talking about it, it's theories and what other people have done. I want to do something purposeful. Right now we're in the space between school and life, waiting for our careers to start. I hate the waiting feeling, but it's funny how students are used to waiting in line for everything: Our food, our textbooks, course changes, OSAP. School in itself is a wait period, until we're ready for a career. But is that the end? Will we be finished waiting once we settle into our respective jobs, start earning a decent wage and benefits, get a house and a dog? We're all in a figurative waiting line... what are we waiting for, and how long before we reach it?

The laws of physics can be applied to life: Equal and opposite forces. Apply force to your life and the universe will reciprocate. I need a change, I need to apply force but where, when and how? I don't know what I can do to make myself less jaded and to induce change. I feel stuck when I should be on top of the world. Isn't that sad? 20 years old and a pessimist.

I'd sleep with you, but I might throw up

I admit that when I drink it's usually a lot and it's usually to run away from my problems. The only fault in this seemingly flawless plan is that my problems instead end up streaming out of me in full force. I feel like the hottest thing around, but really I'm making an ass of myself infront of everyone. Usually this doesn't bother me much because I don't remember half the stupid things I do. But last night I had a revelation after I made my friends victims of my drunkenness. The regrets I have about things my drunk alter-ego said and did overshadowed the fun parts of the night. Does this mean I'm growing out of the habit of drowning my stress in a bottle of whisky? I like having a good time but it's always the same thing... we pre-drink, we go the the bar and drink, then we dance and make fools of ourselves. I know almost every bar in Waterloo inside out. There are other things to do in this city that I want to explore before I leave in a couple years.

Self-Censorship

Lets say all the things we're afraid to say. I edit myself around people. I preview what I'm about to say in my own head, cut it down to a shallow version of what I really feel, and censor it for content that could possibly get me hurt. I'm the worst when it comes to self-censorship. I'm upfront about everything except the things that make me feel vulnerable. Sometimes I bottle in certain things to the point where I might burst. Why am I so afraid of my own words? Words can change the world, and I'm scared that my world will change for the worse. I'm always so afraid of getting hurt, it's getting in the way of what I want. It's getting in the way of me.

Lets do all the things we're afraid to do. Why is there a hesitation when we approach certain situations? I have a fear that if I'm too confident in doing something, I'll get hurt. Doing what I really want scares me so much, because there's a possibility of losing something. That's probably why I don't gamble. I'll either lose everything or gain everything when I roll the dice, and I'm not brave enough to take the risk. What I really want is in my reach... I can almost touch it. Why wont I take that extra step?

I'm so afraid of getting hurt that I don't realize I'm already hurting. I'm hurting by holding everything in, by holding back and by editing me. I don't have the confidence that things wont change for the worse, but I cant keep things in much longer. I feel like I'll burst one of these days and bits of me will go flying for everyone to see. Which is worse; to stay as I am and keep things the same, or to take the plunge with the risk of turning my world upside down? How badly could things change by saying a few little words?

Constellations

My dad tried his best to educate us on the constellations. I know names and locations of the important stars like Vega, Archterous and Deneb (which was going to be my name if I was a boy, not according to my mother.) I was also repeatedly corrected when referring to a shooting star because, "It's a meteor, there's no such thing as a shooting star." Now, when I say to my friends, Hey, did you see that meteor? they have no clue what I'm talking about. I know the summer sky better than the winter sky, because we'd stargaze at my cottage in the summer. The winter sky was saved for my dad's telescope, which he built himself from materials like old seatbelts and construction paper. He used to have to lift me to see through the eye piece, and I had no idea what I was looking at half the time.

It's funny how knowledge gets passed down like that. Little things like making grilled cheese, folding laundry, brushing your teeth... they're constant. You forget that you had to learn them from someone in the first place.

"It was just another night

with a sunset and a moonrise not so far behind

to give us just enough light to lay down underneath the stars

listen to all the translations of the stories across the sky

we drew our own constellations"

-J.J.

I've missed more classes than I've gone to this week. I did a tally, and if I go to one of my classes tomorrow it'll be a tie. I'm going to try to go to both... keeping my fingers crossed.
________

My rat has been in a pissy mood lately. She bites at me, runs in circles, jumps around the chamber hanging onto anything she can grab and runs into walls. She's even chasing her own tail with such force that she'll bite it, then snap at me because she's hurt. I dread going in to the lab to do sessions now. I used to love it! She's one of the smart lab rats. Now she just scares me.... kind of like the real Elizabeth Taylor.
________

"I'm sorry. That was rude, it's just that I know how amazing and special you are that no girl will ever be good enough for you."
"Can you think of one?"
"No, I really can't." In my mind..."I compare every girl to myself. No one has a chance."
________

It snowed today, and I missed it! The first snow of the year, and I'm still in bed pressing the snooze button every 5 minutes. Why didn't someone tell me! I've never missed the first snowfall before. The only way I'll feel better is if we get a foot of snow over night so I can go skiing tomorrow. Yes it could happen, don't squash my dreams.
________

I've decided the following... a) I like being single, b) No guy is good enough for me anyways, and c) If I get really lonely, I can always crawl into bed with one of my roommates or my vibrator. Not both you pervert.
________

Sunny Days

What makes me miss summer the most are the sunny days. When the sun is out but it's too cold to feel it... sunshine is wasted on cold days like this. There's nothing like like lying in the hot sand and feeling the sun warm your skin. Mmmmm.

I have one regret about this summer. I didn't spend enough time at my cottage to keep me sane. I've come to realize that there is no other place that makes me as happy as that beach, that house, that exact location on the planet earth. I need to spend significant time there to maintain some level of sanity. I didn't do that this summer. Weekends were spent in Toronto, in Waterloo, in the city, drinking, partying, doing nothing. Why would I waste my time in the smog when I could be soaking in the warm rays on my beach? Regrets.

We have home videos of when I was 4, in my yellow bikini and pigtails running in and out of the lake with a blue plastic bucket. When I was 7, building a dam across the stream with our neighbours and squealing with excitement when it broke and a torrent of water came rushing at us. When I was 12, building sandcastles. Playing volleyball at 15. I can trace my life on that beach.

Summer is officially gone, and the sunshine is now wasted on cold and windy days. Time to change gears.

Tidal Wave

I don't have enough drama in my life. Sometimes, I feel like I'm just floating through with no genuine tears, no gut-wrenching passions and no way of feeling really alive. I'm in a rut. I need a change... something big that will yank me out of this melancholy. All I do is eat, sleep and study. Sure I have amazing friends and other little hobbies, but nothing that's enough to fill the void that's meant for feeling alive. Right now I'm in limbo, like a ghost. Floating.

Strangely, what's helped me come to this realization is my constant habit of sleeping in. I've never been a morning person, but I've usually made it up for that important class or work. Not lately. I have to set three alarms, and in my sleep I turn them all off and crawl back into bed. Is this just because I'm not getting enough sleep? No, I'm getting plenty of that. It's because there's nothing worth getting out of bed for anymore. I'd rather sleep than be awake, alive and enjoying the day. I feel terribly pathetic, but it couldn't be more true. What is there to wake up for? All of my answers are obligatory ones: Class, studying, talking to friends, working out. None of these things really get me excited about being awake and alive. Yes, I love my friends more than anything, but even they can't pull me out of this deep rut I've fallen into. I need a change, a tidal wave. Something to remind me that I'm here to enjoy life and that all the little things add up to something bigger than me.

Maybe this is just a mood I'll come out of tomorrow, maybe it'll take longer. But maybe I really do need a tidal wave to carry me away for a little while.

Crushing

I love having crushes. Its all about uncertainty, new opportunities, the possibility for romance and a fresh start. And when they give you that smile, oh the butterflies! But after having a crush for a while, it gets old... just smiling at each other isn't enough. There has to be a change. A crossroads per say, where you discover that it's a mutual crush and they give you your first kiss at midnight, on the front porch, midsentence... or you discover through a friend of a friend that they're seeing someone else or even worse, that they just don't like you back. A crossroads where you have the possibility for a relationship, or you move on to the next one. I've officially been in the grey area for too long! Eventually, I've got to know... do you crush me too?

My Other Family

The thing about my roommates is that we really are like a family. We can sleep together and it wont be at all weird. We can see each other in our underwear and not think twice. We can cry together laugh together and just be ourselves together. We can talk about anything, we don't judge and we really do love each other. They say that love can grow simply from being in close proximity to someone all the time, which is true with us, but I think its more than that. These people are the most genuine, kind, funny, intelligent and interesting people I've ever known. These people are my family, not blood but that's an advantage I think. We chose to be together from the beginning because we got along and somewhere along the line our relationship turned into more than just friends. This is my other family.