Philosophies

My mother always says "if you throw enought shit against the wall, something is bound to stick". It doesn't make for the best visual, but I think it is basically true. Note to self: need to start throwing more shit at the wall.

Ahh, the pearls of wisdom from the women in my family, never cease to impress.

Hack

I recently read a book called Hack by Melissa Plaut. As soon as I saw this book on the shelf, and saw its full title "Hack: How I stopped worrying about what to do with my life and started driving a yellow cab", I knew I had to read it. I started reading it, and it was kind of creepy how similar I was to the author. Not necessarily in lifestyle, but the whole problem she faced. I think it's a problem quite common to people in their 20s, unless you are really quite lucky. It's the issue of, what exactly should I be doing with my life, why exactly was I put here on this earth, and all that jazz. It's something I have been struggling with for what seems like an eternity now, but in reality has just been...my 20s. My favourite quotes from the book happen right in the first chapter when she is talking about what exactly it was that led her to decide to start driving a New York City Cab.

"My problem was an existential one. Each thing seemed as good as the next. It was just an arbitrary decision that, in the end, had no meaning anyway, so why bother? I wasn't driven by some intense passion like my sister, and didn't have any innate talent like Allie. I wanted so badly to believe in the idea of a true calling, something a person could spend their days feeling passionate about and engaged by, but it just didn't exist for me....I was stuck in a pit of indecision and there was no place for me to put all this energy..."

I can SO identify with that. I have had so many jobs, and they all just allowed me to get by. Pay the rent, pay the bills, but I felt no passion for what I was doing, so I flitted from one job to another, simply leaving when it got boring. That has pretty much been the last three years of my life, but at least I'm slowly starting to sort it out now. I am always glad to read that other people go through the same sort of crisis. Not that I haven't enjoyed the last three years, I had a blast really, but it started to kind of feel like I was stuck in this rut and I was never ever going to get out. Right now, I feel like I have some more options. It is kind of intimidating to think, "what exactly am I going to do for the rest of my life?". The rest of a life is a long time (hopefully), and I really can't imagine doing any one thing for the whole of it. The thought actually makes me feel like barfing.

"I was no longer going to try and figure out this "rest of my life" bullshit. Instead, it was all about what was next. It was as simple as that. I was gonna treat life as the adventure I wanted it to be. I wanted to try to get as many experiences as possible under my belt before I was dead, and I didn't want to die in some office somewhere in the Financial District".

When I read that, I was just like "yes, exactly!!!". It's too much pressure, trying to pick just one thing that you think you are good at. At least it is for me. What if I want to do hundreds of different things? Is there anything wrong with that...? I have kind of tried to adopt the same philosophy that Melissa Plaut has....figure out what is next, and don't worry about 10 years, 20 years down the line. Life is too unpredictable for that anyway. It's very tiring to always be worrying about what to do with your life. Very tiring. So why let it be?

Waiting

The song "Waiting on the World To Change" came on the radio just now, and I just got to thinking about life and waiting.

It seems like I am always waiting for something to happen or to do things. It's like, "yeah, I"ll do that when I have money", "or I'll do that when the weather is nice again", "I'll do that after I do this". Waiting or procrastinating?

It's odd because a lot of the time I feel like I am waiting for things to happen, things that just never do happen. I wait, and I wait, and then it's just the same. Maybe I just need to find some way to stop waiting and get on with it already. But it's safe here, and it's friendly here (most of the time), and it's predictable here. Right here. Out there though? All of those things fly out of the window. I am opening myself up largely to the possibility of rejection. And I have to be alright with that, and just keep trying, not quit after one person says something like "this is not quite what we are looking for", and keep going. I don't know, it sounds so easy when I type it, but so much harder to just do it. I need to make myself do it.

A "friend" of mine recentely told me that I live in the moment in the future. At the time she said it, I was also all defensive because she was working herself up for an onslaught of insults. But that one thing that she said, I think I get it now. I think she probably meant it in an entirely different way then I've now interpreted, but to be honest, I don't really give a shit what she thinks. At least I'm trying not to.

Anyway, it is easy to make all these grandiose plans in your head, and be like "one day, one day I"m going to do that". Putting off things that you easily be doing right now. And maybe I shouldn't do that, maybe I should try, and I mean really try, to do some of those things. That is all I can take from her rampage.

That being said, who doesn't live in the moment in the future? It's called goals and it's called dreams. Not everyone is afforded the luxury of stopping what they are doing at this exact moment so that they "live in the moment". A lot of the timesit is just about getting by and living life, and that IS living in the moment. Part of me understands what she was saying, part of me doesn't.

The ironic thing about this statement was that it came from a girl, who as I see it, has no business saying it. At all. If anyone is stuck in a hellish circle of nothing ever changing, then it's her.

Anyway, perhaps this all seems like gibberish. But I have to have these little pep talk moments with myself every so often, so I be better at clearing the brush off the path.

Where does the time go....

I can honestly say that a good chunk of this past week has been eaten up by this:


This is a great show, it's a hilarious show, and it's a highly addictive show. "Little boxes, on the hillside, little boxes made of ticky-tacky"....oy, it NEVER will leave my head. Mary Louise Parker is a brilliant actress. Elizabeth Perkins cracks me up. Who knew...I mean, I only knew her from The Flintstones and Miracle on 34th Street. I'm excited about this show, because even thought I have no idea when it actually airs on television, I have a new show to watch...eventually when the new season comes out on dvd. I really can't say I enjoy that many television shows, so yay for Weeds.

I surely had something good to write when I initially started this post, but now all I can think of is random Weeds episodes, and the fact that Gunner the Wolfhound got adopted. WOOT! They also always get dogs from the Cayman Islands at the Humane Society. I find this so random. Maybe it's not at all, but it's really weird. The Cayman Dogs are almost a breed unto themselves, like I look at them from afar, and I can tell that it came from there. The Cayman Islands is a relatively small place, so why all the dogs? I can't seen to find the answer to that anywhere, oh google, you've failed me. I can't complain though, this morning, I wanted to find an updated picture of Mara Wilson...the little girl from Maltida, and Miracle on 34th Street (Elizabeth Perkins got me thinking of her), and google delivered, so I can't complain too much.

anyway, rambly much!?

Looking Better?

I've looked at this blog too long now to know if I have actually made any improvements to the way it looks. I think I like it. I like the colours anyhow. And I like the title.

I have been mulling over a more original title in my mind for a while now, and I kept thinking of variations of this one. It just seems to describe me pretty much to a tee, and with only four words. I am entirely girly in some ways, and I love getting dressed up, and I have a closet full of pretty dresses that I attempt to wear on any occasion that I can. I like makeup, I like flowers, I like fluffy puppies, and small cute things. You know....girly. But on the other hand, I'm a huge spaz, I'm constantly crashing into things (sometimes I realize it, sometimes I don't), and there is not a day in my life that my legs don't have at least one bruise on them. Half the time, I have no idea where they came from. I just walk into that many things I guess. My legs are now immune to the pain of everyday trips and falls.

My whole childhood, I was what one would call a bit of a tomboy (where does this term come from? note to self-look up.) I played with the boys down the street all the time, and we spent our days exploring the ravine, running in and out of mud puddles, setting up booby traps in the backyard for potential intruders, and generally running around like crazies outside. It was so awesome. I hated everything girly back then, I hated wearing dresses and getting dressed up, because what is the fun in that really? I much preferred my jeans and crappy t-shirts.

I'm still kind of like that now, I like random adventures, I don't care less if I end up all muddy, and I would love to spend a day rigging up some booby traps to catch possible intruders, or spend the day playing in a tree fort. I would be so down with that. BUT, I also love love love to shop, and I especially love pretty dresses. Especially ones that are never appropriate for the occasion, but I wear anyway.

So yeah. There it is.

One Last Tribute to the Old Neighbourhood...

I don't want to dwell on the past, and it is not like I am even sad anymore about not living downtown. Yes, I despise having to drive to work, and then pay for parking, but everything else I'm dealing with just fine. I do miss the characters of downtown though, they made for such good stories.

There used to be this guy, he always wore a red coat, jeans, and a winter hat. All he did all day was ride his bike, around and around the same route. ALL DAY. I"m not sure where this guy lived, or if he even lived anywhere really, but I found him extremely interesting.

This guy didn't just ride he bike, he swore and gave the finger to every car that passed him. Every single car. Up would go the hand, the finger would wave, and it would inevitably be accompanied by something along the lines of "screw you" or more likely "f*ck you!!". He would viciously wave his hand, the one with the finger raised, until either that car disappeared, or another one appeared, and he could start all over again. It happened to me several times. I often thought to myself, "what would happen if I shouted something back, or if I gave HIM the finger".I ultimately decided that it would upset the balance of things, and the situation could end up going horribly horribly wrong. Swearing and finger giving is his THING, and I sure didn't want to take that from him.

The strange part is, I walked by this man on several occasions. When I was walking, he never swore at me, and he never gave me the finger. One time, I even worked up my courage and said "hello", to which he simply replied like a normal person, "hello". So I don't know, I guess he just had some sort of inner rage towards cars. All cars. Perhaps he was bitter because he couldn't afford one himself, and his only mode of transportation was the bicycle. Or maybe he was really worried about the destruction to the environment caused by cars. Who knows! I'll sure as hell never know, because I never see him anymore. It kind of makes me a leeetle sad, because I really do want to know. I should have worked myself up into saying more than hello when I had the opportunity.

I haven't met anyone like that down in the North end yet.

7 Years.

I can't think of anything else to write about on September 11, then the fact that it is September 11th. I can't believe it has been seven entire years since 9/11. I remember exactly where I was so clearly, as I am sure most people do.

I remember thinking that day seven years ago, when I first heard what had happened and before anybody really knew what the hell was going on, I thought, "oh my god, that's so many people". and it was. 2750 approximately. And that was just in New York City.

The longer that day went on, and the more details that came out, the more horrified I obviously became. When everyone thought it was just an accident, it was horrible, but when all of a sudden, there was a war going on in our backyard, it was unbelievable. It is still unbelievable actually. Even after going to New York a couple of times and seeing that yes, indeed, those buildings are gone...looking back on that day, it still seems like some kind of movie. Everybody was so shell shocked. I wish it was a movie.

I never could, never will, understand the purpose of war. It makes absolutely no sense to me.

7 years ago today. shit.

Privileged with a capital P

So sometime during my big move the last couple of weeks, I misplaced something that was very dear to me, so dear to me in fact that it was practically a part of my body. An extra limb if you will.

I have no idea where it went, if I lost it, dropped it, or if someone just swiped it out of my car. Either way, all I know is that it is gone gone gone. I have been lamenting this for a couple of weeks now.

Goodbye dear friend:

I do heart you. Hopefully you are loved in your new home!

I was feeling very lost without old silver there, so today I broke down and bought a new one. I am quite cheap, and the new IPOD quite expensive. This doesn't make for the greatest combo, but I think in time I will come to love my new ipod as much as I loved my old one.

Meet pinky:

The whole situation of the lost ipod is kind of funny to me, because I am aware that it is just an ipod. A portable music player. It's just a thing, and not even THAT expensive of a thing, but I really really missed it when I didn't have it.

This got me thinking about how completely privileged I am. There I was complaining about the loss of this accessory, an unnecessary one at that, as if it was the most horrible thing. As if "oh, woe is me" is a reasonable response to a lost IPOD. I know it's not, it seems silly, almost selfish to be upset and complain about something that the majority of the people in the world have never seen or even know exists. I'm aware of that. Every time I told the story of my lost ipod, I annoyed myself even more. Why do I keep telling this story? I would think. Do I want people to feel bad that I lost it? Really, why should they even care? It's just a stinky IPOD. Truth is though, most people I told were like, yeah man, that sucks! That sucks so bad! Well, they probably didn't respond in that 12 year old boy voice I just typed in, but they sympathized just the same. And they felt it. I guess we are all just privileged in ways we most of the times don't even think about.

I'm not saying it's bad, I'm not saying it's good, I"m just saying that it is something that occured to me during my ipodlessness. And I met that thought with a kinda "hmmmmm".

Finally...

Ahhh, the feeling of my own familiar keyboard is quite lovely. It is very hard to write anything at all when you have to backspace after every word. I'm in the midst of getting my desk set up, and it is pretty damn great. It has been YEARS since I've had a desk to actually put my computer on, and honestly, I forgot how wonderful it is. Not to have the laptop actually on my lap, burning my legs. Not having it on the kitchen table, with papers and random office supplies scattered everywhere. Yes, I love my desk.

I am almost settled in my new living arrangements. I have a couple more pictures to hang, and a couple more boxes to unpack, but other than that, I'm pretty set. Living in a different area of town is really weird, especially after living right downtown for so many years. Life in the North end...well, it feels like a completely different city almost. Things are a little calmer, there are a LOT less crazies (as in, I haven't even seen one!), and people seem...nicer?

I've only lived here a short while, so it is hard to tell if these initial observations can be trusted with any amount of accuracy. Time will tell on those matters.

I must say though, it is quite lovely to leave my car parked here, and not worry that it is going to get a)broken into b)destroyed. Nothing ever happened to my car downtown, but I always went to bed with this sense of, "i sure hope Priscilla is okay when I get up!".

It is also nice walking to places without constantly looking over my shoulder. I developed a habit when I lived downtown of constantly checking over my shoulder and clutching my purse to my chest whenever I passed a sketchy looking individual. It's not like downtown st. kitts is downtown ghettoville, and I don't want to give it a bad rap, but I find it is better to be cautious then to have some druggie run away with my purse.

But I must say, as close as I am here to the water, and to cleaner air, I miss downtown. There is a certain kind of energy there, it's in most downtowns really, that just isn't present in other areas of the city. I miss walking to work (so very very much), and I miss being able to walk to the market on Saturday mornings. Driving to the market on a saturday morning just doesn't have the same appeal for some reason.

I'll learn to live with it though, it is just the way it has to be for now. Also I work downtown and spend a large portion of my day wandering around down there, so it is not like I am cut off completely from the hilarity and uniqueness that is often downtown life. "Maam, do you have change, I need to get the bus to Sarnia". "Dude, you need to make up your mind, last week you lived in London, this week you live in Sarnia...pick one! And no, I don't have change, sorry.".

Anyway, it is going to take some adjusting, that's for sure, but in the meantime, I am going to do my best to become a North end girl. There has to be something great here somewhere. And if anyone is going to find, I'm pretty sure I will. I have a nose for these sort of things. I'm going to hop on my pink sparkly bike and explore away.

Vacation

Whoa, I took quite the vacation from blogging there.

I will continue to take a break until I can get my Internet up and running. My mother's keyboard drives me insane. It takes me twice as long to do everything.

I just typed up something nice, and then the keyboard whacked out, moved the cursor somewhere random, and it erased everything. I will be creating no nice words on this keyboard for fear they will get erased.

I hope to get connected at my desk soon, then I can do the blog re haul I have been planning for oh so long. Just you wait readers reader. Just you wait.

Off to see my dog friends soon. Always one of the best parts of my week, hands down.