It’s been a little too long since I’ve had the chance to write on here. I suppose sometimes life just runs away with us and we have to deny ourself certain little pleasures. This being one of them for me. It has been a somewhat crazy and tumultuous week, however I find myself near the end of it, a week away from being in the British Virgin Islands with the Catalyst, feeling elated with a combination of relief, excitement and general exuberant happiness. I don’t think I’m going to go insane, after all! I have somehow managed to finish all of my schoolwork ahead of time. My Twin is going to come and visit me this weekend, for which I am so excited I feel like a little kid. And I get to actually have a little time to actually prepare myself for being away for three weeks. I found people to take care of my apartment and my kitty, and everything, it appears, is rosy.

I had a chat with my mommy this morning. She’s not so good. Her handbag got stolen on Tuesday so she’s going through the whole to-do of trying to get everything sorted out. Her entire life is in that bag (including the cards you’re not supposed to carry with you), so my dad was a little less than sympathetic when she first told him, and rather hilariously she told him that he was a “miserable cunt.” I love my parents.

Mommy also got all emotional on the phone because she realised that without thinking, she put on Ina’s pants and her mommy’s scarf today. It’s the second anniversary of Nana’s death on Saturday. Mommy said that they’re going to help find her purse, and then proceeded to get weepy (which made me weepy). There aren’t really any other people I can be all fey with. Actually, I guess there are. Meh…

Have to get to school. Almost the end!

The longest day ever…

You know sometimes when there are so many emotions in one day that it surprises you?

I think today was my most bipolar day ever. I’m exhausted because of it. I don’t know how I feel right this moment aside from very very tired. But, I’ll be okay. Even if I have to go through more insane days like this, at least I’m being honest with myself. I hope that the precise details of what went down don’t happen again though.

I don’t want to be overly dramatic. I don’t want to mess my life up any more. I hope this works. If I listen to myself and watch and pay more attention, then I should be able to keep myself from repeating the same patterns. I hope. And I’m not just saying it. I am trying. I wish that it would come quicker, but I am trying really hard, and you can’t do better than your best. And practice helps. I should improve with time. I WILL!

I have so much love. I want to give it. It’s funny what people do for love. I almost lost mine today and I actually felt like my heart was being broken.

I have to sleep now. I’ll probably sleep like a corpse.

I hope I have good dreams.

Learning

I like to think that I’m learning, growing, becoming more like the person I hope to become.

It’s not an easy process, change. Selin told me yesterday that I’m brave. That it was courageous of me to have looked at my life and decided that change needed to happen, and that regardless of how hard things are and might be in terms of learning from my mistakes and taking a step forward, that the most important part is that I saw that I needed to change.

I don’t really know how successful I’ve been so far. When I talked to my dad yesterday, he told me that this repression and denial runs in the family. It made me think about the image of my ouma that my great-aunt gave me when I was asking about her. When my grandfather died, Ouma turned up for dinner perfectly attired: curled hair, pearls, make-up, the whole deal, and for anyone who didn’t know her, they couldn’t possibly have guessed that her husband had just had a heart attack. The stories I hear about her terrify me a little because depending on who I talk to I get such absolutely different pictures. To most people, including her younger sister, my second cousins, the other nieces and nephews and relatives, she was this perfect lady. Beautiful, intelligent, talented, dedicated to my grandfather like you couldn’t believe. She was the perfect wife. But then again, she gave up everything she had to be that perfect wife. She was university educated — this was in the late 1930s in South Africa, not exactly typical. She was a musician and singer, highly accomplished and respected, fiercely intelligent, and she gave up her life to to be a wife. She never worked, except to teach music to the nieces and nephews and later the grandchildren. She learned languages and made flower arrangements and did everything in her power to make my grandfather happy. And then when he died, she was completely lost because she had become so completely dependent upon having to someone to tell her what to do.

This is my dad’s view of things. None of the other relatives saw her as someone who was easily manipulated, or in need of guidance. She was so kind, and openhearted, and eloquent, and above all respected by everyone who met her. Her guise of perfection was brilliant and everyone who met her fell in love with her. It’s too bad that her kids hated her.

I’ve been told by some of my relatives that I am so my grandmother’s granddaughter. I was the youngest in the family, and she absolutely adored me. In a book of poetry my aunt wrote when she died, one of the verses is actually about me. In a large extended family where she tried not to show favourites, it was impossible for her to hide her adoration for this elfin little child, full of curiosity and absolutely adoring of her grandmother. I remember spending time with her. It seems that I have inherited more of her characteristics than I had ever imagined. The good with the bad, I suppose. I just don’t want to become a person who glosses over the bad, puts on a perfect persona and allows someone else to make all of my decisions for me. Not that that would have necessarily been the path I was taking, but I more than ever want to try to figure out a way to look at the options and not automatically pick the easier option — the path that takes me the route of comfort rather than facing my life head on and accepting it as it is.

Closure? Is that what they’re calling it these days?

I’m crying. I’m sitting in my room listening to Beck’s Sea Change, with my cat on my lap writing emails back and forth with my oldest friend about how crazy life and love are, and I’m crying.

I’m crying from relief, I think. And from sadness and I don’t even know all of the reasons, can’t quite identify the mix of emotions. I want to reach out and talk to the Catalyst because he’ll make me feel better, and even thinking about him makes me smile and feel happy, but I’m still in this very odd state. Tears coming, but not chokingly. It actually feels quite good, like a release, like I’m finally letting out something that’s been sitting really close to the surface for a while and it’s just reached the brink and come pouring over.

(I need to get a tissue).

Cathartic tears. I do feel quite good to have released a little.

So, yes. Why the sudden outburst?

I saw the Big Love this morning. It was actually really lovely. He came by and we sat and drank tea and talked. At first it was kind of strange. Both of us being really chipper and positive and glossing over the trivial things that are going on in our lives. Questions about family and school and whatnot. Friends in common and all that. And then he got down to it, and said that he hoped it was okay, but he really needed to ask me a difficult question. He started off by asking me what it was that resonated for me in the letter he wrote on the night he left. And I could respond immediately. It was the analogy of a cancer growing in our relationship — something that existed and was growing for so long before either of us saw it. By that time it was just too late.

The other thing that we talked about mostly is the separation that I have between my rational mind and my emotions. We both see it, we both know that it stems from the mix of shitty things that happened when I was a kid — the illness, the sudden change of financial state, my social situation in general, the moving around. It’s definitely a strongly formed defense mechanism. It’s like there’s a guardian personality in me that stops the emotions from going in and out but is willing to allow the rational thoughts to come and go as they please. Don’t feel sorry for yourself: make the best of your situation.

The whole time that the Big Love and I had our agreement, I was never comfortable with it. I was never ever comfortable with him sleeping with other girls. In my rational mind it made perfect sense. I mean, why should it bother me if it’s just physical? Furthermore, it was something that seemed like it would happen regardless, and I would rather know about him being with other women than be in one of those relationships that are pretending to be monogamous but are rather laced with lies and infidelity. But it hurt inside. And I didn’t want to acknowledge that hurt. But I wanted to be with him, and if it meant hurting a little so be it. I just wish I could have been honest. With him. With myself.

We talked a lot about that relationship, the openness that wasn’t really true. He’s never in his life met anyone like me. And it wasn’t even me. Until me there had been two options available: be with one person forever in the happily-ever-after style, or live in this non-monogamous grey area, where cheating and lying are the standard. But with me he could have both. And did. But now that we both know that it wasn’t true, we’re back to those two options. And neither of us are willing to accept the latter, so the former appears to be the only way. But we weren’t ready for that at the time. Neither of us was. He might be closer…so might I. But I guess we’ll just have to see how things turn out.

He’s been talking to Tango Lady since all of this happened. It comes as no real surprise, I mean, she is his best friend aside from me…the source of a lot of our turmoil, but I can absolutely understand why. She’s a gem. At the same time that it does make me sort of sad to think of how real all of this is, I can’t actually imagine anyone else who would be better for him. I asked today if we wants to be with her. He responded that he thinks that it’s best that he doesn’t answer that question. He thinks that same might stand for me. Which is true, and I think that we both know the reality of the situation now. It’s kind of strange to think that after all that, after so much time together, we might both be moving on to relationships that will benefit from what we’ve learned from one another, and will hopefully make us both happier people in the long term. Me with the Catalyst, him with Tango Lady. Happily ever after and all that, eh?

Now I’m feeling kind of good. I am really happy right now. Things are good. I’m learning. I’m trying really hard to actually feel the things I think. I want to learn how to feel my emotions rather than compartmentalize them, to accept that feeling jealous, sad, lost, useless are all valid and things that I need to listen to. I’m not perfect by any means and the way that I feel is just as important as the way that the next person feels. I think I’m getting there. The Catalyst is helping. My friends are helping. The fact that I don’t want to be perfect for the Catalyst makes me feel like I can genuinely be myself. No more of this being the perfect partner. It’s exhausting and it’s dishonesty and it certainly isn’t sustainable. I was listening to an Aimee Mann song this morning. The last part of the song says ” and if he seemed a little strange/ well, baby–anyone can change/and you do/you do/ you really do.” It really struck me. I’m that person. I’m the one who changes. But I don’t want to any more. So I’m going to try really hard not to be that person. I am going to be okay with myself. I am. And soon.

Phew… what a day. It is snowing for real. None of this pretend snow that people in warmer climates get and then freak out about. This is snow for real. It has been snowing pretty much consistently all day. At present there is a car spinning its tires outside my window, apparently unable to deal with the combination of snowplow dumpage and ceaseless frozen precipitation falling from the sky.

And I know it might sound silly, but drab weather like today’s just makes me tired. I have all sorts of work to do this evening, but I’m just exhausted and don’t feel like doing anything. Which isn’t an option at all. Perhaps the best choice will be to get a little reading done now and then take a 20 minute power nap before getting back into it.

On a very definite upside, I will be in the British Virgin Islands, probably still in the process of attacking the Catalyst, in precisely two weeks (I arrive at 10am). This is amazing…and slightly terrifying as it is so insanely soon. I cannot wait to get there, but the amount of schoolwork I have to pound my way through between now and then might intimidate some. I’m trying to think about it logically and calmly and do one thing at a time. Hopefully this tactic will work. Nothing is due on the same day.

The Big Love gets back into town tonight. I feel bad for him as I have his winter coat here and all of his winter clothes. I think it’s going to be a little bit of a surprise for him when he steps off the plane into half a foot of snow. He may have already done that however, in which case he’s probably cursing a little. I do hope he has the good sense to stop by tonight to claim his things, as I certainly wouldn’t want to be stuck outside on a day like today inadequately attired.

Okay, so serious malaise has hit me. Time for a nap. I feel sort of dull today. But it does happen, and it is snowing outside!

Whining…

Sometimes, I am a silly person.

Today is one of these occasions. I should be doing my schoolwork, yet here I am sitting in the costume shop at 7pm, having spent most of the day here helping out (it is opening night after all) and foolishly having agreed to working front of house for C., who really needed me to help her out.

Not only that but I am actually sitting here waiting for the Catalyst to come online so that I can talk to him because I miss him and as I’m not at home I can’t actually see him, but can chat to him on msn, which is better than nothing.

Yesterday I thought that my stress about finding someone to pay rent for December was over because the Big Love’s going to be back in town as of tomorrow and needs somewhere to stay and I told him that he could stay while I was away. I totally agree that it might be a move in the wrong direction (for him, more than for me), but now I need to find someone else, and I’m just stressed about all of the shit that I need to get a grip on before I leave, but haven’t really managed to get a firm handle on. Goddamn it.

And the Catalyst said that he’d come and talk to me about 15 minutes ago and I still haven’t heard from him… Oh there he is.

Wow…I’m a whiny little kid.

Boo on being a whiny kid.

Transition

Winter has begun here. The bright sunshining crispness that hardens your jeans and illuminates your breath overtook the city this morning, and while it’s a grimace-worthy cold if underattired, there is a certain glorious beauty in the cold mixed with sunshine. The last traces of autumn lit up as if glowing embers signifying the last moments of a blazing fire, soon to die out.

I love and hate Montreal at this time of year. It reminds you like a slap in the face that life isn’t constant here, that things not only change, but change so dramatically that your existence becomes dependent upon the weather report. That ten second internet check in the morning can make or break your day.

I am confused about my snapdragons. Although today was somewhere around seven below, they are still alive and well out on my balcony, not even looking worse for wear. In fact, I’m convinced that they are still blooming anew, the final few buds obstinately opening up to the now weakened rays of the sun. My flowers inside seem to be delighted in their new environment. Everything continues to bloom, and seem to have found a gorgeous state of equilibrium where one flower opens as the last closes and drops to the ground, as though acknowledging that the grandeur of the new bloom deserves centre stage.

The only plants I have that don’t seem happy are my geranium (which has some sort of illness and is covered in dark spots with yellowing leaves) and the green sweet potato plant which must have heard that it’s Fall outside and is dropping its leaves like nobody’s business. Try as I might, it doesn’t seem to want to be revived, although I have hope yet.

Perhaps it’s lonely for the other plants in the kitchen. Maybe the constantly blooming hibiscus plants in my bedroom is embarrassing it.

I’m in a remarkably good mood this evening. Perhaps it is because for the first time in a week I don’t have a headache and I didn’t even take anything to help the pain today. Not one little pill. Things are also starting to come together in the hectic mania that is my scholarly existence. I realised that my presentation for sexuality is only ten minutes long, which is a positive walk in the park. Plus, I’ve finally become excited about my topic, and don’t think that it’s going to take nearly as much time as I had anticipated to get through the research. Hoorah!

I shan’t bore you with my schoolwork, however. How about some juicy details about my life?

I spent a good chunk of time while on public transport fantasizing about the Catalyst. I know that one isn’t supposed to fall into futuristic fantasizing…actually, I don’t know who told me that you shouldn’t but apparently it’s dangerous to do it. I suppose if I really wanted to protect myself I wouldn’t sit with a silly grin on my face and imagine all of the things we could be doing together, starting with my visit to him in a couple of weeks (16 days to be exact) and extending pretty far into the future. Well, as far as I’m willing to see…although how far is for me to know (I don’t want to jinx it or anything). However, I have started giving a little more weight to my daydreams, not in a creepy stalker kind of way, but in a hopeful “I wonder if this is going to work out for real” kind of way. It’s a great feeling to have emotions bubbling up under the surface that occasionally erupt into impromptu little smiles and giggles. Or when a memory or thought or touch or look enters into your head and you get a rush of giddiness and can’t help smiling to yourself. Your own little private moment of happiness.

I want to share those moments too. I try to tell him when it rushes over me (in fact, I don’t want to know how much my bill for long distance text messages is going to be. Whatever it is is rather absurd), but I can’t tell him every time because I don’t think I would get much else done.

Joy to new love. I know I’ve said it before but my plants seem to know. Even with all of this pain in the neck business it’s difficult to despair when it meant that I got to spend rather large chunks of time every day talking to him. Although we haven’t talked tonight. He’s off working, I think. Or the internet in the BVI is down…or something. Maybe he’s off with some hot holiday-makers. BOOOOO. Actually we got into quite the discussion about that last night. The fact that I still have a hard time accepting that I can actually have what I want and that for real…he wants me and doesn’t want to spoil it by being with anyone else while we aren’t together. Amazing. It makes me feel all gooey and happy… and a little scared. But I think you need to feel a little insecure or the butterflies would go away. I just hope that I manage to figure myself out enough and learn to be honest and acknowledge the validity of my feelings before I mess everything up. I don’t want to mess this up…it’s the most exciting, wonderful way to be. I guess that’s why I’m scared.

Further complications

After four days of having a fever, I realised that the absolutely brutal headache and pain were worse than they had been before, and that having a fever but no other symptoms of flu might mean that what I thought in the beginning was right. Doing a headstand in yoga on Monday for a pretty long time totally screwed up my neck. Well… something I did in yoga overdid it and the neck compression (or whatever it was) was the cause of the fevers.

So I don’t want to have to continue taking large quantities of painkillers because it’s just not good for you. I think I’ve taken more painkillers in the last four days that I ever have in my life. That’s a little freaky.

Thus, I stopped taking them, and couldn’t sleep, wanted to cry/die/disappear and took some in the end because I couldn’t handle it (I’m a total wuss when it comes to headaches). I went to the chiropractor yesterday and took some X-rays and it turns out that I do indeed have a problem, something that has been developing for a while, and that is fixable, but is nonetheless a literal pain in the neck. Unfortunately sometimes, we have to get worse to feel better and after the adjustment, the pain became quite unbearable so I took some more codeine and floated through my evening feeling remarkably stoned (well, aided by a joint too) and watched Kids in the Hall with some of my classmates. It was good fun despite the fact that neck and shoulder injuries limit mobility, and my neck only stops hurting when I tilt it back a little, so I had to sit on the floor to watch. This is also proving tricky as I have a laptop computer and it’s very difficult to see the screen and tilt my head upwards at the same time. Damn stupid situation, if you ask me.

I can’t wait to get out of the house and start doing things again. Four days inside is making me go seriously stir crazy. The Catalyst entertained me tonight with a spectacular rant in an Irish accent. I don’t think I’ve laughed that much in weeks. Actually, surprisingly it made my neck feel better. Definitely the best medicine!

Love this

This video was made by a girl in my pottery class and is totally awesome!

The Great Escape by Patrick Watson… video by Kathleen Weldon and Alex Produkt

Bullshit

I’m feeling pretty sad tonight. Actually, I feel like I can’t do anything right. Way to go Turbo, revert back to the old ways. It’s like there’s this switch in me that whenever it seems like I’m either upsetting someone or might get in trouble, then I default to saying what I think they want to hear. Which is bullshit.

Another thing that’s really upsetting me is that today I actually miss the Big Love. It’s not that I want him back or anything like that; I just miss him. And it makes me feel particularly bad because I feel like I shouldn’t. I feel like it’s not fair to the Catalyst for me to miss the Big Love, but then, what’s fair to me? I need to own my emotions, don’t I? Well, so here’s owning my emotions. I miss him. I’m looking forward to his coming back to Montreal so that we can hang out. He’s my best friend after all. And yeah, we did become codependent, and breaking up was most certainly for the best, but there are times when I wish he was here.

This is all particularly tough because I don’t want the Catalyst to think that it has anything to do with him or us. I don’t want him to think that the fact that the Big Love’s still lingering changes the way I feel for him, because it doesn’t. And I know that he’s going to go on lingering, and then he’s going to get here, and hopefully by then everything will be comfortable and okay, and the Catalyst won’t have to worry because he’ll know how unbelievable strong my feelings for him are, and the Big Love and I will be able to just be friends and not have to throw everything away and be like those people who never manage to resolve their differences after a breakup.

Oh man…it devastates me to think that I could act as foolishly as I have in the past with the Catalyst, to try to “protect” him from the way that I act. Goddamn I’m a tool sometimes.

So I feel like shit right now. I feel like I’m still lost, still going through the same old destructive motions, don’t really feel like I deserve the love of these people who go out of their way to make sure that I know how they feel about me. Why do I do it? It’s totally destructive and useless. Way to sabotage your own happiness, girlie.

Well, I have to leave for work. I’m tired and sad and still sick, but what can you do? Money makes the world go ’round after all.