1. there are four peach pits on the windowsill beside my computer because i can't be bothered to throw them out. if i throw them out new ones will just take their place and it all seems so bloody pointless. no, i am not depressed. it is, for a change, somewhat cool and pleasant out (hah! 29C feels cool now!) but i just woke up and am a trifle cranky as i tend to be at these moments of newly reestablished consciousness.
2. weird, weird night. the dream theme for last night was apparently "ducks" because there were many many ducks and ducklings. possibly there were some goslings as well; i'm fuzzy on the cute young bird distinctions. but they did get in the way of me getting down and dirty on the dancefloor when sting suddenly appeared at this nice dark little bar i was at. then the son of ozzy (no, not that son, a different tall cute one with long red hair and a puffy sky blue down vest and a slight crush on me) got up and started to sing as well. and then, after tripping on more ducks i went to hang out with the parents of a newborn baby which, like most paintings of the christ child (i'm on a jesus roll here, people!) looked to be about two. i attempted to swaddle the baby (hey, i'm told they like it) but i used saran wrap instead of swaddling clothes and the result was a temporary but rather disturbing breathing distress for the baby. me bad. do not give me your babies to swaddle! do not give me your ducks or goslings either. i am a safety hazard. oh, and i also walked a cat in the pouring rain. so do not give me your cats to walk. all in all, it was another busy night.
3. my left hand burned all night long. i think it might be one of two things. i chopped hot peppers yesterday and the sting refused to leave my hands even though i washed and re-washed them with the single minded determination of an OCD sufferer. then, before bedtime i rubbed some german horse chestnut cream on my varicose veins. no, this is not some strange abberation on my part - it is supposed to help. however the writing on the tube is only in german and apparently does not have directions for use (i asked) so they were probably in the box i recycled and said something like this: "wash hands immediately following use. prolonged exposure can lead to burning and eventual loss of limb. side effects including insanity, diarrhea, hair loss, hearing loss, echolalia and weird duck dreams have been noted." or not. but it's still tingling now.
4. the goddamn sun is shining despite a 60% promise of rain. bastard sun, i mutter, i loathe you currently! stick to your environment canada-appointed schedule and do not show your swarthy face until tomorrow, preferrably when i am on the beach. you hear me? humpf! he never listens.
5. i just realised that i am so very very polish in this blog despite its canuck title, what with the brined pickles, the black turnip shampoo, the horse chestnut vein cream. let me tell you - it is The Polish Way (and you know that when i resort to proper capitalization, things are Important). so, yes, i am polish. i knew what st. john's wort looked like before i was 5. polish people like their herbal remedies and natural therapeutics. well, maybe not so much anymore - perhaps along with their newfound love of pre-sliced wonder bread and processed cheese slices they have discovered the joys of ritalin and xanax. i somehow doubt that, though; in poland you can still go to any pharmacy and get yourself some stomach drops for 2zł (about 0.75$) and man, oh man, do they ever work well. a couple drops in a glass of water, one gulp of herbal horror and your gastric functions return to normal post haste. really. so i remain very polish. how comforting. but I STILL HATE RAISINS!
6. i love numbering things - it gives me a feeling of slight control over the universe. also, it makes me feel like i am writing things that matter: who, after all, would number drivel? who would bother to number trivial, arbitrary non-sensical blatherings? who indeed?
7. i believe this is a reiteration of a point from the lost post, something that's been on my mind lately. i started to (officially) wear make-up in grade ten (before then i'd surreptitiously smear on some lipstick on my way to school and then smear it off on my way home). because i lacked skill and practice in manhandling the eyeliner, the result in the early years was an unintentional goth-lite. the older i got the less i wore. i was never one for the full wallpaper of foundation and all. really just paint-the-eyeholes, powder the nose, colour the lips and away you go. i just kept readjusting the amount of darkness in the paint-the-eyeholes department. but the point is, i would never go out unpainted. no mascara - no leave house. this changed when i was living in fort mcmurray. in a town that considers 10K worth of gold around one's neck and pants facing the right way stylish...well, let's just say the standards do tend to slip a bit. i started going to work without make-up and then just kept at it. at this point i have spent the last 2 years almost entirely without make-up. and you know what? i kinda like my face as is! i used to feel bald and turtle-like without make-up and now i look and i like this chick that i see. the other plus is that when i do go out and ho myself up a wee bit, it makes me feel all swanky and spectacular, and the older you get the more you need that feeling.
8. i keep having these identity crises at night. i have been waking up and looking around in a panic not knowing who i am nor what gender, not knowing who is in bed with me, not knowing where i am. it's really odd and disturbing and please make it go away. i wish i could have a panic attack like normal people instead of hiding it in the depths of my unconscious for the 3-in-the-morning me to deal with.
9. lhasa's "soon this space will be too small" invariably makes me soggy-eyed. but in a good way. i can't explain it.
10. now we're up to 10 so i'll have to keep writing because i decided to scoff at this metric thang. well, not the whole metric thang because i love the metric system - it is logical and beautifully symmetrical. but i just don't want to be a slave to it - if i want to make 17 points, i should be able to do so without feeling all twitchy about it. you see, i read somewhere that OCD is a continuum and all of us experience some symptoms which scared me because when i listen to our car stereo i set the volume to specific numbers - i tend to like them even rather than odd, except for 37 of which i am inordinately fond. i also suffer from other numerical neuroses, so as you can see, boys and girls, i need to fight the swirling neurons of my own brain and in doing so diss the metric man a wee bit. he won't mind. he is very well mannered. aren't you, metric man?
11. tomorrow we go to my parents' place for the long weekend and we will be joined by our friend from chicago. much fun was had by us in chicago. unfortunately he has far greater staying power than either one of us and so two nights out ended up with us sleeping in the parked volvo while he partied on. he would return when the bar closed at 4 am, with sweat pouring down his face, cheeks rosy and exclaim that he was no longer the man he once was and lacked the ability to really party. u-huh, we'd mutter sleepily from the back seat. but we did pull one all-nighter: dancing at the berlin all night, the requisite greasy breakfast, the loooong walk to the car in increasingly cold weather, peeing in the playground...ahhh, the good old days. or day. the last time i pulled an all-nighter was 10 years ago. and that's about all i'm good for - once every 10 years. i really hate going to bed when the birds are getting their morning freak on. i wish they'd shut up - i am trying to pretend it's still night. because you see, i am a slave to my diurnal/nocturnal rhythms. i was always an easy child to put to bed - dark=sleep, light=awake. easy. so when people say the reason i can't party like it's 1999 is because it ain't 1999 and i am old, i just laugh haughtily and say, hah! because i NEVER could party like it's 1999. not even in 1999. the only thing i can handle on a semi-regular basis is having friends over for copious amounts of wine at my place and having them linger till the wee hours because then i can crawl to bed before the goddamn birds start to make a racket. so if there is an amazing dj playing a midnight show and i can barely stay up, don't poke fun at my age. it is not my age, it is my biology.
12. i love how patient mr. m is with me. i hate, however, how i lose him to the internet most evenings. is it okay to have fantasies involving the laptop, a blowtorch and a really big stone hammer?
13. i want a pirate theme party! we'll hobble around on our wooden legs, say aaaarrrr! a lot and try to avoid getting defecated on by our parrots. sound like fun? we'll drink rum, swap eye-patches and make people walk the plank. i do live on the third floor so it ought to be fun. wanna come?
14. have you ever wanted to control the leader of the free world? now you can! but it's not fair that he gets all the fun. i want a balloon universe of my very own. can you share georgie? who knew you were so flexible, georgie! georgie, you look kind of tired.