The Mind Is A Wonderful Place

I almost like not having a social life. Late nights selling bottled Heineken to hoodlums and Scarberian gangsta wannabees, days selling processing-included film and 8 by 10 enlargements to crackheads. I was so proud to have worked 36 hours in 3 days,for triple double shifting, for having really pushed myself and made it without collapsing, for telling myself, "as long as you make it to the end of this day".

Had to call into work sick. Got a throat swab. Watched Canadian Idol in its two hour entirety. Went through a box of kleenex and a package of advil Cold & flu.

Do I even have the right to feel sorry for myself when it's my own fault?

I just want to run and run and run and never have to catch my breath. Is that too much to ask?

For the first time in a long time, I took my time walking home from the bus stop. It wasn't windy. It wasn't bitterly cold. For the first time in a long time, it was pleasant so instead of speed-walking at a typical mach 8 Lauren pace, I sauntered. When was the last time I SAUNTERED? This way, I could be careful not to step on any of the enormous worms that have, as of tonight, taken up most of the sidewalk. They must have been breeding and growing for the duration of the winter. Seriously. They're huge.

I had a little bit (and I mean a little)of time before I had to race over to work so I did some grocery shopping and then decided I would head over to my local Walmart. There, I snatched up a box of contraceptives and then booked it to the make-up section where I hurridly scanned the aisles. Here is an except of what happened next.

Guy approaches. Stands. Looks almost unsure of himself.
I ignore him, thinking he's... (What, Lauren? looking for a new FOUNDATION?)
Guy clears his throat. "Excuse me? ...Are you pregnant?"
I glance down at the plethora of durex..es I have gripped nervously in my hand."Uh.. no."
"Oh, okay. I was wondering why you would be buying..." His voice trails off.
Pause. Not enough to be really awkward, but enough for both of us to acknowledge this pause. I began to turn away (is this guy for real? Hells, maybe he was embarassed but I've come to be quite comfortable with the fact that I have no shame)
"Can I call you sometime?"
Wait, wait wait. ..What?
"No, I have a boyfriend. (And here's the cincher.Why would I say this next part? Beats me.) Sorry."

I thought that would be the end of it.

"Are you allowed to have friends?"
"Nope. .. It's... It's just the two of us. (again) Sorry."

I could comment. Instead, I will say this: Walmart. Dear Walmart, how I love thee. Without you, sleasy guys wouldn't have a place to approach and attempt to pick up pregnant young women. They might as well try. A girl has to put out to get knocked up, right?
*sigh*

 

 

 

I could say that because of a whirlwind of readings, social events and 12 hour work shifts, I have been unable to post anything. *eeh* (That was supposed to be the ... well, the EEH sound when you're wrong) That would be a damn lie. I quit a job and am currently pulling in 8-11 hours a week of work, I'm no longer in school as you all know and the most social time I've had in a long time was this past weekend for ze B-day (side note, HAPPY BIRTHDAY ANDREW!!)
  Aside from partying it up and celebrating the last 20 years what else, the life de moi these last few days have consisted of me sluggishly trying to force myself out of bed and cringing at the thought of any type of effort, whether it be walking the dog, reading the script for upcoming play "Butterfly" whichallofyoushouldcomeseeinmarchattarragontheatre becauseimstagemanagingit or cleaning the space which used to be referred to as "my room". Currently it resembles a section of an abandonded squathouse.
I.don't.know.what.to.do.with.myself.
For the first time in a long time, my life hasn't been ruled by a work schedule. And it's killing me. You think I'd like the time off, or learn to like the time off, but I don't. And I haven't. I sit here, wishing I was at work (it's SICK, isn't it?!!) thinking about all of the things I would enjoy doing... And then I watch as the time slips away...again, and again, and again. I turn over in my bed, pull the covers up higher and push snooze. Or turn off the alarm completely. Part of me is telling myself that I DESERVE some time off, that I NEED to catch up on my sleep. The other, louder voice is telling me to shut the fuck up, get up and DO something. It's like this blog. I've told myself that I SHOULD write in here but I haven't been able to bring myself to do it.

Maybe I'm lovesick. I miss you so much right now. I miss you every day. I miss you when I'm with you because I know you'll be leaving. I'll handle it... It's just hard. And it's going to continue to be hard.  It's just scary that someone can influence your life so much and even scarier to think that I'm living FOR someone, when I should be living for myself. I'm so used to feeling and being independent and right now it's like this vulnerability has washed over me. That's not right.. "washed over me"... more like it's knocked me off my feet- ass over teakettle- I wonder if I COULD live without you. I know I could, but thinking about it makes it hard to breathe. Love you heted-head..

Enough of that. Here's to a new day. A day where I take the time to write in my livejournal, where I'll do laundry and be merry.
By the way, thanks to everyone who came out on Saturday- Thanks to 40's of Max Ice and friends on Friday-Thanks to the family for some damn good curry roti and some even damder gooder times on Sunday and thanks to glamour shots with Stephyluff on Monday.

In need of new music. Anyone? FOR THE LOVE OF EVERYTHING THAT IS SACRED.

This time
I won't show I'm vulnerable
This time
I won't give in first
This time
I will hold out with my love
This time
I will not be hurt


I'm gonna love myself
More than anyone else
I'm gonna treat me right
I'm gonna make you say
That you love me first
And you'll be the one with the most to lose tonight
This time


This time
I won't let my emotions rule my life
This time
I'm gonna keep my heart locked safe inside
This time
I'm gonna be my own best friend
This time
I'm gonna be the one


To win
Your love
Your affection
To hide
My fear
Of rejection
This time

 I stole this from mohawkman_laire_nirvanablue  

"put your winamp playlist -or whatever- on random. as each song comes on, choose a lyric and post it. do this for the next 10 songs you hear. now sit back and watch people try to guess what song and what band. "


1. Put your playlist on shuffle. 2. Post lyrics from the first 20 songs under an LJ cut. 3. See who can guess the song title and artist. 4. When someone guesses the title and artist correctly, strikeout the song.


( Guess My Songs )


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I sometimes envy those who can dig through the limitless amounts of crap hidden away in their crawlspace and haul out a relatively unblemished Christmas tree. I mean, it's almost impossible to tell the difference between a plastic tree and a real one, isn't it? Ignoring the metal "stump" that juts from the bottom... And the overall symmetrical perfection that a real tree doesn't possess. I envy these people on days like today, when my Mum and I decided to begin our hunt for a Christmas tree. Off we went, me still feeling nauseated after an extreme visit to the gym (please.. please, don't attempt the stairmaster on an empty stomach) and her, determined to seek out and purchase some concept of a tree that doesn't exist.. as I found today. Off across Lawrence we went, stopping at a corner parking lot. There might have been 20 trees there, mostly Fraser Firs that started at 80 bucks a pop and de-needled with the slightest movement. "we're getting new trees in tomorrow" the salesman confided, almost as an apology. We headed home- but before we got there, We had to... HAD to stop at Home Depot.
Tell me why it took us 15 minutes to find the DAMN Outdoor garden centre. After talking to 4 sales associates, one who mumbled a mess of incoherent words that resembled "You have to ask inside" (We already did, you asshole, and they told us to come HERE)we reached what resembled an auto mechanic garage filled with trees. Of course, they were all tied up with twine, making it impossible to see their shape or whether or not there were small rodents nesting inside.
I searched out the only person on the floor, an angry (or just extremely cold) hoodlum youth fiddling with the tree netting. "Is it ok if I untie some of these trees?" She gave me a sort of half-nod and went back to working. ...And looking really cold.
"Do you have some scissors, or some-"
She didn't even let me finish. Without looking up, she replied, "Someone took 'em."

Fucking Scarborough.
*Sigh*
Back I went to my mom, who at this point was now showing signs of agitation. Not a good sign. We then continued on with our search, stopping briefly at times in a duel effort to hold the tree up while untwisting the strong bonds that held the boughs together. Even then, the trees were so frozen shut that we couldn't tell what they looked like.

By the time I found my tree- THE tree, in my mind, my hands were almost paralyzed with frost as I struggled navigate my arms through the bristles and pull it to its full 8ft standing position. Then I dragged it over to my mom, and slow-danced with it, trying to share my romanticized vision of a heartier, greener, fuller Christmas. She took one look at the ginormous abnormality and shrieked, "Do you KNOW how SMALL our living room is?!"

Ok, So I'm lying. She laughed at my battling the tree into a waltz and shook her head. Maybe had I been a little more insistent on making it my own, I'd be writing about the perils of decorating the hugest christmas tree known to mankind.

SO I'M STILL TREELESS.
And I bet all you plastic tree owners are satisfied in knowing that you can pull out your tree at your convenience while remaining in the warmth in your own home... But lemme tell you, nothing will replace this day, or the smell of pine, balsam or fraser fir that greets me every morning when I wake up.

Maybe I should just go out with a fucking axe and steal one from the mall grounds. I bet it'd be easier.

This morning I wanted to cry when my alarm went off. I whimpered a little, shut it off, rolled over and slept in. And then slept in some more. By the time I got up, I only had half an hour to get ready (whereas I like a good hour to get dressed, eat, make a lunch... etc)and I seriously, seriously contemplated not going to my workshop. I thought about getting dressed, putting my contacts in and everything, and then crawling back into my nest of a bed. I could justify it by saying I was tired- I had been keeping really busy the last few days- my head hurt, I felt like I was coming down with something- and then mid thought I almost slapped myself in the face. Lauren, what are you DOING?! I can't keep RUNNING from things that I just dont WANT to do. I'm not even RUNNING from them, I'm turning around and yawning in the face of opportunity, choosing to nap over a great experience.
And that's what today was- a great experience.
I almost didn't go because it was such a joyless day last time. And a long day at that- and I just didn't think I could pull myself together and get to the annex by 9:00 AM...And I definitely didn't think I'd be able to hold out until 5. But I did. And I'm glad.
The first workshop was one of the best I've been to so far- the speakers were so obviously passionate about their work and ideas and were extremely excited to see how interested we were. Their youth and vibrance set the mood for the rest of the day; or at least helped us through the second (and less prepared of the three) workshops with the father character from the T.V show "Corner Gas" and some other chick.
AHAHHAHA I'd hate to be called "some other chick".

Finally, we did movement workshops- Learned about clowning (got a clown nose and everything) and did something called "rivers"...I'll have to explain it all later. There really is a lot more to clowning than I had previously assumed. It takes a complete baring all raw emotions in order to be a good clown. Again, like I said, more later
So from 5- 7:30, we all had time to kill before a preview performance at Tarragon theatre. A few of us went out to some grubby little restaurant where a bunch of old European men yelled over their bottled beer at each other, stood up ,yelled across the restaurant some more and waved their arms a lot.
"AAAAH , back in the Potato Famine!"
"You look old enough to be my father!"

It was hilarious when Mazin found the jukebox and started playing Old Dirty Bastard and Spicegirls. Or when Ashton and I conversed about nipple rings. I swear, the word "nipple" was still formed on our lips and we had all four of these old men turned around in their seats, staring. I think they liked the music though.. it livened them up a bit.

All in all, a good night. I got to know some of the people from the festival. It was nice actually making attempts to get to know my peers, instead of hiding out in a corner and pretending to be busy.Thats not the real me. The real me is someone who enjoys company, and likes meeting new people- The real me has been in the shadows of this bitter young woman, someone I don't know and don't want to know. I hope she's gone and never comes back. Even though I'm at home writing instead of watching the play, I think I made a good choice- My head is killing me- it's been a long day, but a fulfilling one.

Who goes to dominion to purchase only a can of coolwhip? Me. I wonder if the cashier at the express 1-8 item checkout lane wondered whether or not I had a hot date that night. I swear.. It was for pumpkin pie. Honest.  When she went to put my one item in a bag, I told her I didn't need one. Let the world see my kink as I walk to the car.
I'm indesperate need for a good read so any recommendations would be greatly appreciated- I'm terrible at choosing books. I think it's  because the "don't judge a book by its cover" phrase was pounded into my subconscious at an early age over and over again and now I'm left feeling as though I should stay away from books with flashy art or those ones with the titles that bump out like braille and you can run your index finger over the top and feel each ...

I already hate this fucking blog.

Dreading coming up. wish me luck.


By the way, seeing Clea last night just made me miss everyone and everything even more.

How can you miss someone who is sitting right next to you? How can you love someone so much that the thought of him leaving casts a shadow on everything that is supposed to be exuberant and fun and dangerous and exciting?
I can't get close enough. If I could crawl under his skin and feel every movement of his body I could stay there forever. Already, I'm searching for the scent he left behind. I'm trying not to think of the future- I'm trying not to let anyone or anything put a damper on this- especially not myself... But I'm telling you, once he's gone and I can't smell him on my sheets, it's going to be a bad scene.

On another note: I did not smoke pot tonight. Tell me why, then, I'm squinting through slits and struggling to write this entry. I don't even have the energy to yawn. I just spelled "energy" "edery" and the effort to change it and then write about changing was so consuming I think I'm going to go to bed.

Here's to strength, vitality, youth...And all that good stuff.

This is me
This is me sitting in my robe (thanks to grandma who snatched it from a hotel)
This is me sitting in my robe, surfing the Telus website for a new ringtone
This is me sitting in my robe, surfing the Telus website for a new ringtone and eating leftover mashed potatoes that aren't quite heated through and are piled with fatty fat sour cream
This is me sitting in my robe, surfing the Telus website for a new ringtone and eating leftover mashed potatoes that aren't quite heated through and are piled with fatty fat sour cream, listening to my winamp shuffle disney songs.
Now here's the kicker.
This is me sitting in my robe,(unsuccessfully)surfing the Telus website for a new ringtone and eating leftover mashed potatoes that aren't quite heated through and are piled with fatty fat sour cream, listening to my winamp shuffle disney songs on a Friday night.

I just can't seem to shake this. I know I will, and it's that hope that keeps me going.

Back into the season of rush- Or was it always this way? No more strolling home from work; now I'm practically running down Morningside just be be able to throw open the front door and plug in the awaiting kettle... Purse still in hand, coat half unbuttoned, keys still clenched in a cold fist. I don't know what will become of me once the REAL winter season hits. This is just the beginning: fall entering with a curtsy to an audience that fills the space with groans of displeasure as Summer gets the hook. Fall is pretty polite that way. It's Winter that gets me. That bitch. I'm pretty sure Winter's the one who forgets to turn on the "applause" sign and laughs as the other seasons squirm with discomfort.

If my friends cared about my future, they would support my decision to go away... don't you think? It's not fair to try to make someone remain in a situation that, although is not a step BACKWARDS, doesn't benefit them in full. I know I would be pushing me out the door if I was them.

There's just an empty space. There's nothing left here to remind me.

If I had to do this on my own, I wouldn't survive. I love my parents.

I've realized a lot of things with their help. I don't need to feel stuck at York. There's always time to change, and grow and experiment. I don't have to keep living like this- continuing on with something I detest because I'm afraid people will think I'm a failure.. That I'll see myself as a failure. Happiness is important to pursue and I'm going to do it. I've had enough. I'm at the end of my rope.

Or at least that's how I was feeling last night. When I woke up this morning, my eyes were still swollen from crying- Ever get that? I needed a complete breakdown to allow myself to be able to clear away all the rubble and start over.
Starting over. That's what I'm going to do.

There are so many options that I'm considering: dropping York completely, going to France to work as a tour guide (in English... yes, this is possible), running away to Scotland to spend time with Iain when he goes back, Humber for a Flight Attendant Foundations course, simply changing my major... And that's just the beginning.

I'm revamping my life, the direction in which I'm going is unknown, and it doesn't bother me.

Please.. everyone.. Remember that we're young. We have time. And please.. If I ever forget this again, gently nudge me and let me know that it's all going to be ok.

It's crumbling. I don't know how much longer I can keep up this positive outlook on life.

It hurt me so much to see her like that... I cried because I would like to think that I know what it's like to feel like that, but I will never know what it is like to be her, to go through what she has gone through, to feel so alone, and so unworthy of love. It got to a point where I wanted to run from her, to forget that she existed- I just felt so helpless. There are only so many times you can tell someone something, to let them know you're there. I told her, "You can only help people who want to be helped" but I need to inhale that thought, allow it to settle within me, and breathe it out. I need to take my own advice and listen to the words I want to desperately to have an affect on her.
This is the closest I've seen to human desperation in my life. There it was; I could reach out and touch it with my own two hands- A soul so stripped of any cushioning that happiness and hope can bring that only a shattered person is left. Jagged shards of a person who used to be and may never be again.
I cried because I knew it was all true. Because it's not her who has been the bad friend, but I. Because of guilt. Because of feeling guilty. Because I love her so much and seeing her like this kills me inside. I want so badly for her to be well.
I don't know how much longer she's going to be able to go like this, and it scares me. I just thank God she's been this strong.
Fuck, part of me is even angry, and I hate feeling this way. How do I have any right to be ANGRY in a situation like this? Part of me wants her to just GET OVER it already. Then I think, and I realize that I'm not angry at her,I'm angry at the world- how cruel and deceitful it and the people living upon its surface can be. I'm so MAD that good people can be lead down these terrible, terrible paths, they can be crushed, they can have all means of happiness torn from them and people will go on living their lives as though it's not happening. That people are SUFFERING everywhere. I'm mad that I can't help.
I don't know how to make her better. I wish I did, but I don't. And I can't. And the people who have done this to her, they're still out there. I wonder if they sleep at night. I wonder if karma has caught up with them, or if it ever will.

Please know that I love you, and I always will. There is nothing on this earth that will change that. You're so beautiful and I'm praying for you. That's all I have left.
( life is up and it is down )

I hate this .

This has got to stop. I need to focus on what's important right now: school. I need to stop TELLING myself to focus on what's important,actually understand the severe consequences that will arise if I fail to do so, and start over.
And I have to stop pining. Get on with your life here Lauren. The circumstances in which you're living cannot be changed.
I need a smack.

This is the beginning of a new time in my life. And if, by any chance, I go back on my word to put forth some effort and actually try this year... hunt me down and shake me.

MSN needs to be cut back a lot, if not entirely. It's allowing this internet addiction to fester.
Enough is enough.