Moving day tomorrow. I don't know WHY I do this, but I did it again...waited on a truck that was supposed to be borrowed, but now isn't, so I'm wandering around Saturday morning trying to find a UHaul anywhere in Mississauga and attempting to negotiate how to get my car up there to pick up the truck without having to get a ride back up there to pick up my car after I drive the truck down (does that make sense?). And because I have no friends, and any I do and was counting on have gone AWOL, I have to pack pretty much everything tonight (apart from some books and such I did last week) and have it ready for when my one sole (soul?) friend the bartender comes up and we load up the truck and drive to Fort Erie BACK.

It a bit like looking for France this morning.

maybe all i ever learned of love
was how to shoot someone
who out drew you.

leonard cohen

Christmas crept like it always does and then...poof! gone.

Merry Christmas to meeeeeeeeeeeee...

The BBC want to censor Fairytale of New York this year...

Why? Honestly? WTF? It's been fine for like years, and it was I thought the BBC that voted it the Best Christmas Song ever (I could be wrong)...suddenly, the televised world can't handle the word slut?

Gore Wins Oscar, Nobel Peace Prize For Slide-Show Presentation

Horoscope: You worked your ass off in 2007. Am I right, my fellow Cancerian? In fact, you threw yourself into your hard labors with so much dutiful fervor that you sometimes lost sight of the fact that they were mostly just preparation for bigger and better assignments. Luckily for you, I'm here to snap you out of your amnesia. Please begin immediately to formulate a vision of how you will make the transition to those bigger and better assignments.

Thank God.

Annie's going to a new school in January. My Mother and Father are going to the very private, very pretentious school in the Falls that GOB was considering sending the boys to, in order to enroll her.

I am worried about her transition wise but at the same time happy happy and god I hope she starts to excel SOMEWHERE.

Be well little bear...

December slush filled
thoughts I thought
about staying
up here
with you
a loft of our past
after promising I’d
never do that again
after promising
we should never
do that again
and just be happy with
the us now
but every once in a while
after going to bed
leaving the lights on
moving through the walls
there’s a shadow in the mirror
and I know it’s you
it’s time to go home
to get things done,
get things right,
I fuck up
always do
buried in the words
about us and you
and when Christmas
comes I’ll lay my head
resting in shame
watching seasons change
and I’ll think of you
and while I swim
through time alone
you will cross my mind
shadows tossed over
the alarm clock
rain down my back
your laugh lines
in my mind
and we will
build walls leading
back to each other
come home with me
and I will promise
not to
leave you
again

so the airplane cold turned into an airplane flu, and i was knocked out in bed all day yesterday which is weird because i just had this kinda flu thing, and the weird thing is both times i had a little to drink the night before...not a lot, certainly not enough to be THAT sick with, but now i'm worried.

my father can't drink. deathly allergic to it, makes him hideously sick the next day. and i'm thinking, and i've thought this before that it's quite possible it's making me sick too now. which is upsetting.

so amidst the emails from my mother asking me if there is blood in my vomit, if i have right upper quadrent pain, if my back hurts and if so where? it has been concluded that i have an ulcer which if you didn't know also explains my 'chronic cough' as my mother calls it. so being the BMH she is, she's placed me on a no alcohol, white food, diet with a little pill every like 3 hours in an attempt to re-line my stomach or whatever from the ulcer that BMH probably freakin gave me.

and everything is so weird.

i'm moving january 1st. it's surreal. it's such a nice place and i am so very very excited and can't wait to get in but i HATE moving and i HATE moving alone i'm always moving ALONE and i HATE IT. gonna grab some boxes today ish and start packing books etc. tricia and hip attachment are moving the end of the month to britain. gob's x is apparently moving up here. it's just so WEIRD everyone's movement and moving and i'm kinda sitting here with all my own shit to do telling people what kind of currency they have there, what the neighbourhoods in toronto are named, what grocery stores to go to, and what neighbourhoods to stay away from while everyone else shoots off emails to me, long and indecisive, and worried, which should in turn make me anxious and crazy but in fact is making me very calm while i enjoy a plate of rice and bread and drink my herbal tea.

molly and cash are like best friends now. it's so cute. but molly has this stupid little sponge ball that she somehow and honestly, i don't know why or how throws with her paws under the couch incessantly. then she lays on her side, and gets her head almost all the way under the couch kinda whining, the cash comes and tries...then i get down on the floor and they both get so excited they jump on my head and lick me and on and on and on it goes all morning. they're so weird and will so very very much enjoy a HOUSE. A HOUSE! WHOAH.

and i guess that's all the news.

my head hurts.

i don't know why or if it is right for this to crack me up. i think it's the serious and numerously stated "rogue elf" that makes that weird little snorty laugh to erupt.

the even funnier part is the moron canadian, who frankly, in his little picture doesn't look purebred, connects this as an utter and completely logical and apparently obvious correlation to the canadian immigration policy. what, immigrants don't like santa?

horoscope
Are your cohorts looking at you quizzically, wondering why you seem so energized from exploring the shadowy, off-limits places? I'll offer some suggestions about what you could say to them. First, try to make them see that until you've risked going too far, you may not know when to stop. Second, tell them that you suspect there are healthy desires buried at the roots of your dark feelings, and you're hoping to free them. Third, explain to them that you're not picking at your scabs in order to prolong your hurt, but rather to better understand the hurt. If those rationales are too subtle for your companions to understand, cackle softly and say that you just need to be a little bad in order to give your goodness more soul.

for reasons unknown to me, all i can think is beastiality...and since i'm really without cohorts ummmmm...yeah...

back from the bahamas with braids in my hair and a slight winter sunburn.

the crawl last night from the airport through the snow in my summer khakis and sneakers was insane. the vacation was a nice break but i am happy to be back. i got the house and will post a picture a bit later. but it freaking ROCKS. and of course i have the airplane cold, that is really just plugged ears and a snotty head...

my puppies are in fort erie so i need to suffer through the cold stuff to get them. poor little things...

christmas is beyond me right now. sigh.

so i'm in the bahamas.

and although i should probably take the huge RANT that was quite possible unneccessary down i am not going to, keeping it as proof that i do get pissed off, that people do annoy the fuck out of me and eventually i snap. that was a snap. the cyber equivelant of punching the wall and going to bed with bleeding knuckles that take weeks to heal (i'm still scraping the scabs off the ones from the last SNAP). People ask why i don't write, why i don't get published blah blah blah...it just pisses me off SO MUCH when someone reads something and then goes on this HUGE thing written with entire subconscious idea that they absolutely understand and know what it is about. god is pisses me off. and i don't know why. it's like GOB'S suck stick...there's a fine line, there's a fine line between obscurity and ability to understand something someone's written, but y'know maybe they are all just too obscure for anyone to get. and goddamn i'm tired of being a walking pussy. jesus. it's like in 8mile when he's like "you're saying the same shit that he said" everyone just says the same SHIT TO ME...i wish i was enjoying someone else's company as much as everyone says i am.

anyway...

it's warm here and nice, the boys are gorgeous and speak sweetly with odd little accents somewhere between jamaica and the east side of b-lo. it's unlike anywhere i've ever been with parallels to thailand a bit but it ends somewhere between the fresh coconut and lack of friendly service.

tricia and i found the library. we're gonna swim with sharks, eat pineapple, and nestle with our books and a couple of pina colodas on the beach.

i'm telling no one when i'm back or where i'm moving to (again except gob, cause i like you).

and i will continue walking home alone
until there's someone
that will slip arm between mine
and quietly lead me along,
without saying
a word.

it's a good thing i'm not drinking...

i have to catch a plane in like seven hours. i've not packed. i'm tired. i drove home today. and this is probably going to seem like a weird drunken rant buuuut i just feel i might actually sleep if i finish this...

i am so goddamn tired of people.

henceforth, i'm leaving. gone. poof. i am tired of the selfishness by individuals who have no fuckin idea what a fuckin metaphor is and immediately assume everything i write is about them or concerns them in some way. that poem was strangely about one of the only people who would FUCKIN understand it, and said individual has said NOTHING.

i did this monitoring, insanity, paranoia, obsession with who i see, what i FUCKIN WRITE...why, and immediate relation to themselves before...

i cannot believe close friends are doing the same thing.

please, delete your bookmarks and pretend i don't fuckin exist.

maybe i should make a different identity...anonymous...

i'm not writing in communist china here...if you don't understand a simile, metaphor, or fuckin ME go away...

the house thing is looking good, to be fuckin alone without any of this high school retardedness is so very very appealing.

and as a sign of my own personal stubbornness, newfound independence, and just WHATEVER i'm not fuckin taking that down. i love that fuckin piece, the rest of you think whatever the fuck you want to think because i don't fuckin care anymore.

i'm going to my cave, and won't be back.

goddamn i hate fuckin people.

(not you GOB...you're the only fuckin saving grace).

and i'll take this down tomorrow when i'm less fuckin pissed off.

i walked the fuck home fuckin alone.

hfduafhdougefuhrewoituewtpoersafdnmskfdxzNK!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

bubbling moët & chandon corks
over and under our previous
and accepted mindless fucks
of discourse
literature & poetry
your life & mine
tonight we ran
head first
you first
into sex & love
& people we both know
well & ontario skies
& sadness & isolation

finally i thought
maybe i’m letting someone into my lack
of misery and
accepted solitude

you had finally
given into
love
or the lack thereof
and i wondered
about the island
and how we ended up here

it crossed my mind
that i might wake up one day
without a breath left
in my hair
tossed up over
the bedframe
hiding a neatly written poem

it’s like waking
the morning after a nightmare
trying to figure out
this thing between you and i

hiding in the bedroom
you flip me a smile
and i promised not to leave
tight loveless arms
around me on the street
it’s all in my head
i bang into a mental poem
words subtitled in kanji
you whisper it will never happen
you whisper you’re terrified
you move hair from face
and whisper i’m beautiful
you move eyes from the ground
and whisper that we will go
that we will be ok
i tell you
you’ll be ok

and walked home alone.

well ya just never know
i thought to myself
3 days in winnipeg at 30 below
i walked the streets alone
utterly alone
too cold for anyone
even the homeless to be out
3 days in different hospitals
talking to different patients
with different things
a 60 year old with lung cancer
a 30 year old with ms
her two sons sat at her bedside and
did their homework
one with a carpentry textbook
the other guy surrounded by his family
going in for a triple bypass
and the old people
all the old people
who want to go home
but sleep there now
talking to someone who isn't there
never was there
about their plans for the weekend
dementia taking over
already taken
the mutters and mumblings
utter insane
the woman
my age
just back from chemo
hair gone in tuffs
her mother
and sister
sat and they talked
and laughed
her room covered with flowers
balloons
rubbing fruits & passion
her room
smelling of mangos and papaya
covering the smell
??
and i wander the streets alone
all i want is someone to tell me
to take my time
while they take my hand
and peer into a freeze frame
of my soul
so someone might know
what is means
someone might figure
my head out
before
my body out
who would leave things
in my room?