Sometimes, especially late at night, I wish God could talk back.
I have a lot of questions.
Tonight my fortune cookie said, "You project the kind of confidence that strengthens others." I've been told I'm a confident girl. I do, wear, go and say as I please not to suit anyone but myself.
But is it confidence or armor? I believe it's confidence but can't help wondering if it's partially created to keep everything at arm's length. Is that what strength is though? Does it mean you keep your distance from the beginning or does it mean you recover quickly after the fall? Probably both.
I think it's best to stop here and sleep. Nothing more can be done for today, best to move onto tomorrow.
P.S. I won Scrabble tonight :)
Goodnight Lisa, I hope you don't have a hangover tomorrow.
Friday, October 9, 2009
Where the Wild Things Aren't
On Wednesdays when I babysit I usually suggest story time to the kids. Our personal favourites include The Hound From The Pound, Meecat Mail and Curious George in the Big City. Recently, I beg them to let me read Where The Wild Things Are. The words are so simple, and the text is short and direct but somehow the words play to your heart. "Please don't go, we'll eat you up, we love you so." This was my favourite part growing up. I always giggled, thinking how silly they were to want to eat up that which you love the best. Now I know it's love so fast and deep that it can be violent and careless.
I bought the wild thing soundtrack for the upcoming movie. It features one of my very favourite female musicians, Karen O. The choir of children that accompany her create the essence of childhood built upon the bones of play and laughter. Wednesday night I was driving home from Harrow back to my Windsor home. I was listening to the cd and thinking about my day and wild things and very suddenly I started to laugh. I couldn't help but realize how much my day had paralleled the book. Earlier I told a friend that I would love to sail away on an imaginary island and dance and play all the time to which they answered, "You have, you do." It's true, I had spent the day with my own little monsters who were wild to say the least. I have the baby induced neck scratches to prove it. Even in Windsor home I have the freedom of a wild thing, to do and go as I please.
What was even funnier to me was how I spent the evening. At the end of the book Max smells good things to eat and sails away home where someone loves him best and his dinner is waiting, still hot. After I babysat I decided to go home. Even though I'm 22 years old dinner was waiting. What I love best about the book is the simple act of dinner waiting, "still hot." It's so subtle. Max isn't met by dramatics and tears and hugs to make us all feel that our own home life in inadequate. It's so much like my house too! It's not one of those homes that overwhelms you with spoiling hugs and kisses. You are responsible for you and we tend to have the occasional healthy disagreement. It's lucky just to have a place to go to so easily. I know it's rare and after being away the last few weeks I appreciate the subtlety. I love having two homes. One I can escape to in the city where I'm free to run wild and small town Harrow home where life is surely less than wild. It's sleepy and reminds me of sweaters and orange leaves. This weekend we're going on our traditional last fall walk and pumpkin shopping spree. ;)
For Halloween I want a Max wolf suit to wear. If I could find one, I promise you I would wear it rather than the skanky tights and corset.
I love the fall.
I bought the wild thing soundtrack for the upcoming movie. It features one of my very favourite female musicians, Karen O. The choir of children that accompany her create the essence of childhood built upon the bones of play and laughter. Wednesday night I was driving home from Harrow back to my Windsor home. I was listening to the cd and thinking about my day and wild things and very suddenly I started to laugh. I couldn't help but realize how much my day had paralleled the book. Earlier I told a friend that I would love to sail away on an imaginary island and dance and play all the time to which they answered, "You have, you do." It's true, I had spent the day with my own little monsters who were wild to say the least. I have the baby induced neck scratches to prove it. Even in Windsor home I have the freedom of a wild thing, to do and go as I please.
What was even funnier to me was how I spent the evening. At the end of the book Max smells good things to eat and sails away home where someone loves him best and his dinner is waiting, still hot. After I babysat I decided to go home. Even though I'm 22 years old dinner was waiting. What I love best about the book is the simple act of dinner waiting, "still hot." It's so subtle. Max isn't met by dramatics and tears and hugs to make us all feel that our own home life in inadequate. It's so much like my house too! It's not one of those homes that overwhelms you with spoiling hugs and kisses. You are responsible for you and we tend to have the occasional healthy disagreement. It's lucky just to have a place to go to so easily. I know it's rare and after being away the last few weeks I appreciate the subtlety. I love having two homes. One I can escape to in the city where I'm free to run wild and small town Harrow home where life is surely less than wild. It's sleepy and reminds me of sweaters and orange leaves. This weekend we're going on our traditional last fall walk and pumpkin shopping spree. ;)
For Halloween I want a Max wolf suit to wear. If I could find one, I promise you I would wear it rather than the skanky tights and corset.
I love the fall.
Sunday, October 4, 2009
On solid ground
I moved. I packed up my things and took up with a friend on an offer to live with him in quiet, southern part of the city where war veterans settled in the 50's. It's so very Leave it to Beaver here. You half expect to see women in aprons and red lipstick vacuuming in heels through neighbors windows. People wave and there are lots of trees and its simple. It's comfortable. But there are no children. There are few. It's where the original version of suburbia went to retire. Our house is tiny and reminds me of the little house sets we had when we were very young. One set of dishes, a few groceries in the pretend fridge, a picture I drew on the wall and one table for two. I'm playing house and my pretend husband would rather be on a date with a handsome young man. I might need to stop relating everything in my life to a game I once played when I was five or I might really need to see a shrink soon.
School has started and I'm enjoying how it occupies my time. It makes me busy, it takes my mind off one million other things. It gives me purpose even when I am stressed. I feel responsible for something and obligated to something that has the feeling of importance that you don't actually care to define. It is what it is if only out of necessity for many future years. I've convinced myself that school needs me when it is actually the other way around. (Not unlike most other things). Class validates me and I am happy to feel like I have a steady footing for the time being.
Everything just feels so serious! Maybe it's the cold weather. Maybe it's because I'm working two jobs and all I can think about is saving money and it's making me practical. PRACTICAL! Of all the things I loathe, practicality has always been high on the ridiculous list. I eat breakfast, I cut on the vices, I go to bed before midnight and I dress according to the weather. But then again I did get the rib tattoo a few weeks ago. All is not lost.
The solution to this week's headache is really quite simple. I will keep eating granola and whole wheat muffins for breakfast, I will make four out of my eight coffees a day decaf, I will only smoke on weekends and I will go to every concert possible. But above all I will sleep in when I can and stay up even later the next night. I think I'm balancing. I'm walking the tightrope in a feathered fedora and sequence black tutu.
Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. - Oscar Wilde
Note to self: Go an visit your sister(s). Babs is gone away and everything feels empty without her around. In a sense and way, she is one half of one of my selves. And important self that I miss too. Everything seems slightly grey-er without her. Everytime someone goes away I feel like torn paper. I rip off a chunk and let them keep it, or maybe they take it. Anyways, she has the part of the story that involves dancing in the kitchen to meatloaf :)
And in closing, in case you were wondering, after all is said and done for, I still believe in love. (After a 3 month hiatus, it's necessary to say it).
Goodnight, and get here fast.
School has started and I'm enjoying how it occupies my time. It makes me busy, it takes my mind off one million other things. It gives me purpose even when I am stressed. I feel responsible for something and obligated to something that has the feeling of importance that you don't actually care to define. It is what it is if only out of necessity for many future years. I've convinced myself that school needs me when it is actually the other way around. (Not unlike most other things). Class validates me and I am happy to feel like I have a steady footing for the time being.
Everything just feels so serious! Maybe it's the cold weather. Maybe it's because I'm working two jobs and all I can think about is saving money and it's making me practical. PRACTICAL! Of all the things I loathe, practicality has always been high on the ridiculous list. I eat breakfast, I cut on the vices, I go to bed before midnight and I dress according to the weather. But then again I did get the rib tattoo a few weeks ago. All is not lost.
The solution to this week's headache is really quite simple. I will keep eating granola and whole wheat muffins for breakfast, I will make four out of my eight coffees a day decaf, I will only smoke on weekends and I will go to every concert possible. But above all I will sleep in when I can and stay up even later the next night. I think I'm balancing. I'm walking the tightrope in a feathered fedora and sequence black tutu.
Consistency is the last refuge of the unimaginative. - Oscar Wilde
Note to self: Go an visit your sister(s). Babs is gone away and everything feels empty without her around. In a sense and way, she is one half of one of my selves. And important self that I miss too. Everything seems slightly grey-er without her. Everytime someone goes away I feel like torn paper. I rip off a chunk and let them keep it, or maybe they take it. Anyways, she has the part of the story that involves dancing in the kitchen to meatloaf :)
And in closing, in case you were wondering, after all is said and done for, I still believe in love. (After a 3 month hiatus, it's necessary to say it).
Goodnight, and get here fast.
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