Observations

The other day a little girl was looking at books in the front of the store.  She turned to tell her mom something and her mom wasn't there.  She was looking around but she couldn't see her mom anywhere so I asked her what her mom looked like.

"She has Lulu lemon pants," she said.

That's it.  What kind of little girl doesn't tell you what her mom's hair colour is, or what colour she's wearing?  Brand names?  Really?  But that's what she said.

She ended up finding her mom right away after that, thank goodness.  Her mom wasn't a very nice woman.  She didn't pay any attention to her little girl calling out, "Mommy!  Mommy!" at the front of the store and it's not like she couldn't hear her.

I will grant the little girl was a whiny thing, who when they got to the till asked over and over and over, "Mommy can I have a book?  Mommy can I have a book?" without even enough time for her mother to answer.  Very annoying.  When I hear a child do that I immediately assume they are spoiled and used to getting what they want.  Otherwise why would they keep asking?  But instead of giving her the standard distracted "No" answer, her mother replied with, "No.  I know, I'm a terrible mother, not buying you anything.  Not giving you what you want," complete with a knowing look to whoever was helping her at the till.  (I hate that.  It creates violent urges in me.)

Then the little girl switched tactics.  Not getting a book?  Fine.  Bookmarks are smaller, more attainable perhaps.  Her mom denied her again with the same phrases...but then she asked if we had Twilight bookmarks.  The little girl got so excited - but then the mother just bought one for herself.  She was going out of her way to buy the things the little girl wanted for herself.  There was a malicious tone to everything she did, directed towards her child.  I didn't like her one bit.  She was a mean woman who took out her meanness on her little girl because her child was small and powerless.  Those are the kind of people I want to punch in the face until they bleed.  Copiously.

And then give her little girl to someone who gives a damn and will raise her to be a healthy, functional adult.  Because this woman certainly won't.

Family Visit

I had a good weekend. Three days off in a row is always nice, nicer still when I get to see people I love. My mom came down for a few days. We had good conversations and went shopping together - we even took in a theatre show.

It was so nice to see her again. I went from living at my parents to seeing them every four months to now, where I see them every...eight months? Every year? It can be a long time in between visits now that my schedule is no longer ruled by the school semester but by work and all too infrequent holidays. If we lived closer geographically it would be different but alas, this is how life goes sometimes.

I think of my mom, moving away from her family and going years without seeing them. I don't think I could go years. Of course my family will come see me sometimes too so the onus isn't all on me to do the travelling like it was on her. That helps a lot.

The next time I see my family might be this summer. I'm going to Barkerville BC to work for five months. It's a place my family likes to visit so they'll kill two birds with one stone and I'll get to see them again. Except for my youngest brother, who is now beginning to experience the constraint of a working schedule too.

But there's always Christmas. I hope.

It's Been A While...

...but not much is going on.

I had an audition with ATP...I still work at the bookstore...oh, the french guy who gave me his number and then asked me out on a date who I then turned down but then stupidly decided might be friend material is 'still hoping' as my co-worker put it, and worse, still showing up at work to chat aka flirt when I've done everything I can think of (other than freezing him out) to show him I'm not interested...I'm preparing to go to Barkerville BC for the summer...S. opened a show tonight in another city and I really hope it went well...I'm preparing for another audition next week...my mom is coming to visit me tomorrow!

My life in one long paragraph with lots of elipses. I love elipses.

Promotion

I have keys to the book store.

That might be a bad idea.

Hopefully there are still books in there tomorrow.

Company

I got this from my brother.

A married couple was in a car when the wife turned to her husband and asked, "Would you like to stop for a coffee?"

"No, thanks," he answered truthfully. So they didn't stop.

The wife, who had indeed wanted to stop, became annoyed because she felt her preference had not been considered. The husband, seeing his wife was angry, became frustrated. Why didn't she just say what she wanted?

Unfortunately, he failed to see that his wife was asking the question not to get an instant decision, but to begin a negotiation. And the wife didn't realize that when her husband said no, he was just expressing his preference, not making a ruling. When a man and woman interpret the same interchange in such conflicting ways, it's no wonder they can find themselves leveling angry charges of selfishness and obstinacy at each other.


When I read this, I laughed out loud because it was almost verbatim a conversation S. and I had about a year ago. We figured it out within the half-hour - but it's nice to know we aren't alone in our misunderstandings!

Random Thoughts from a Migraining Brain

I have specific rituals that help me deal with a migraine. I take drugs with coke, I perhaps eat corn chips with salsa, and I lay in bed in the dark, listening to CBC radio while I zone in and out of consciousness until I feel better and can function again. I have been in bed for something like 16 hours now, and I feel a little better but not enough to get up and do anything. I'm a little surprised I'm writing on a computer actually. It goes against all of my migraine patterns and it isn't helping me at all.

It's so hot in the apartment. I can't handle it. I turned down the heat to 15 and it's still hot in here. Damn heat malfunction. I want to stand out on the balcony in my pajamas but I'm not sure what the bylaws are on that sort of thing. I'll settle for opening my bedroom window and letting the cold air soothe my overheated brain.

Apparently St. John New Brunswick is the happiest place in Canada. The people have various reasons. One guy said it was because people were friendly. One 17 year old said there was nothing to do. He wanted to go to Calgary, but couldn't leave his girlfriend. "She's having my kid," he said. Is he scared? No. He's so happy about it, about giving that kid the life he never had. Weird, but he sounded happy anyway, even if he was bored with St. John.

One old guy said the key to a long, happy life was sex and lots of it. Maybe that's why the 17 year old was so happy sounding.

Yesterday they talked about a study on cheating, and how when they asked people to recount the 10 commandments and then gave them chances to cheat or steal, they didn't. Even if they couldn't remember any of the commandments. And that when you are one step away from actual money, you are more likely to steal. What would you take from work? A pencil, or 10 cents from the till? The pencil! And when they made people aware of the monetary value of objects in the office, theft went down. And that giving people huge bonuses makes them less efficient at their work because they spend time being stressed out at the thought of losing the bonus instead of spending time thinking about how to do their job. It was fascinating but I can't remember the name of the study author now.

My computer is literally falling apart - the tiny screws in the bottom are falling out. I wonder why. And why is it hot to the touch? Does that have anything to do with the fact that the battery is unrecognizable to the system? Should I take the battery out? I have no idea. What I don't know about computers could fill a warehouse. Although they are making a quantum computer that can hold way more information than the computers we have now. I do know that, thanks to Quirks and Quarks.

I feel high. Drugs kicking in but I'm still unable to function at a normal level.

I have no more random thoughts. I think I'm going to go back to sleep until my brain is normal again - well, that could take eternity. Until it's back to my normal, at least.

Another Pet Peeve

I hate it when people interrupt me while I'm helping one customer in order to ask for help themselves.

What am I supposed to do? I'm already busy. Legitimately helping someone, doing my job - I wish I could point out how rude they're being but I can't. Although today I came really close. Some guy, who had already interrupted me once - when I was mid sentence, I kid you not - then proceded to yell at me from across the store, asking "Is there anyone who will help me with this?" He was very impatient. And rude. And I was the only one he could see, and we were all busy with other people.

So I said, as he turned away, "Can you not see I'm busy with someone?" and felt bad instantly only because my customer was so nice and I hated to expose my frustration in front of her. Oh well. Guess what, I'm human too, customer. And idiots annoy me.

At least there were no Children of the Exorcism today.

I Love the Smell of Commerce in the Morning

Today a small child screamed like she was possessed by the devil. Like "Exorcism" screaming, all gravelly. It was impressive. Over and over - "My book! My book!" were the only discernable words. Her mother was trying to buy the book for her but she wouldn't let go long enough for it to be scanned at the till. So her mother took her out of the store, and then when it became apparent she wasn't going to stop, her mother took her away. Her screams eventually stopped - but only because she was out of earshot. After they left, we clerks were the only ones in the store, so we chatted about Devil Girl and her mother, and our childhoods and our parents.

Later a man barged into the 'staff only' area, made a beeline for our bathroom and started using it without shutting the door first. How did he even know there was a bathroom back there? It's not advertised and we don't tell customers about it, much less let them use it. We quickly realized he wasn't quite all there, so at least he wasn't a creep who wanted to expose himself to the Coles girls. But still. It was...surreal. And then he left the store without saying a word.

Just to round things out, the fire alarm in the mall went off twice. It's loud. We have an alarm in our ceiling and it flashes a blue light as it beeps. Beeps is too kind a word. As it shrieks on par with Devil Girl it blinks a calm blue light. If that's for deaf people they get the better end of the deal. Except if I were deaf, I wouldn't realize that meant fire. It's too calm and blue.

That's been my day. The things I would tell S. about if he were here. Sigh.

Thoughts I Repressed Today

"Telling me the title over and over will not help me find the book, so SHUT UP ALREADY."

"If this computer says we don't have it, the other computer won't give us a different answer!"

"Why are you here?"

"Why didn't you follow me - do you think the book will just hover over to you?"

"How am I supposed to find a book based on, 'it's got a silver cover'?"

"Are you buying this book or not? And if so, will you please come back to the till, you moron?"

"Did you not hear what I just asked you?"

(That last one I think almost every day with more and more irritation. Why? Because I am developing a new pet peeve. I'll ask a customer, "Can I help you?" and they'll say, "Yes, I'm fine," and walk away as fast as they can. Did they not hear what I asked? Do they think I'll pressure them into buying Twilight? God Almighty, it makes me want to punch them in the face. It's not like they don't speak English. The ones that don't speak English usually just smile and nod, or say, "Browsing!" like it's a magic word that will protect them from pushy sales clerks. But I don't get a commission from selling books. All it does is give me something to do.)

On a side note, today I actually chased a woman away from the store. All it took was a "Are you finding everything okay?" and she nodded and barely had time to say, "I'm fine thank you" before she was out the door and gone.

I don't understand.

Maybe on my last day I'll say what I'm thinking - but I say that about every job and I never do it. Too polite and professional I guess. Too used to repressing my real thoughts and showing a happy smiling face to a world that doesn't bother to look beneath the surface.

I'm not sure why my thoughts are so dark. I started out the day happily enough. I had way more happy customers than unhappy ones. I had a fairly uneventful benign day at work. And yet I'm just frustrated and fed up with not living the life I want. Not paying my bills with my writing. Not getting paid to tell stories in one form or another.

I enjoy working with books all day.

But I really don't want to do this forever, and every job I get that isn't what I want for my life wears on me quicker and quicker.

Maybe that was the one thought I should have repressed today - just for the sake of my short term happiness.

And maybe it's the one thought I should be most aware of.

Things I've Seen

I saw a small Asian boy smiling like Buddah would smile if he were a baby with no cares in the world, as he was pushed through the mall in his stroller. He only stopped smiling when he saw me watching him, even though I was smiling at him. I wonder why. Then he went back to his own little world and the look of pure contentment came back.

I want to look that content while I go my way through the world.

Today I was met by my boss without a smile, not even in her voice. I think now that she must have had a stressed morning but this morning I took it personally and the first hour or two of my day were terrible. I wanted to quit. I wanted to throw books at stupid people. I wanted to gouge the eyes out of wailing children. And then I realized that my boss has always greeted me with a smile and a friendly word and that there was nothing I could have done in the first thirty seconds of my day to make her upset, so it must be from a cause outside myself. I am very egocentric. I must be two years old. That must be why I look so young. ;) Although if I keep taking everything personally it will age me before my time.

I was told by an older man that I was wise beyond my years. He doesn't know me, so he doesn't know all my faults - that I have the ego of a toddler. We talked about the school system and the lack of balance therein. He teaches shop, and the troubled kids 'get better' in his class because instead of trying to build with letters and numbers and failing, they build with their hands and succeed. The school wants him to take his counselling degree but he doesn't want to because he cannot counsel out of the context of his class. Or he doesn't think so. He was so easy to talk to. He said not many people believed in the need for balance. That's why he thinks I'm so wise. Because I know that balance is a need, even if I can't acheive it myself. He asked how I got so wise and I said I'd just always been a thinker. He said him too. He'd always stood on the edge and watched others, and half-wanted to get involved but holding back because most of the stuff others were doing looked so damn stupid. I added the damn. It's the first time I've met someone who put in words what I've lived my whole life. It was exhilerating and sad. I don't know why it was sad. Perhaps because I know that there is a cost to being the watcher and I'm not sure I want to pay it, even if I don't know any other way to be.

He seemed happy. He said if I ever had time and saw him around the mall, we should go for coffee.

It made me wonder why the only guys who ask me out for coffee are either older than me by decades, or younger than me and socially awkward. Even though he didn't ask me out on a date. It didn't feel like that, anyway. More like he enjoyed our conversation as much as I did and would like to chat with me again sometime. That I wouldn't mind.

Now I'm down because I'm an observer. Like Britney says, there are two types of people in this world. The ones that entertain, and the ones who observe.

Who would have thought wisdom could come from pop stars. But if it can come from the mouths of babes, perhaps it can come from anywhere.

Good Fences

"Good fences make good neighbours."

Our upstairs neighbour is not a quiet man. He's either blowing his nose or he has a baby elephant up there. (Maybe that's what happened to the baby elephant at the zoo.) He gets up and stomps around at 5 in the morning on a regular basis. (I've even been woken up by a string of swear words, cause unknown. Not the best way to face the world in the early morn.) He spends his weekends listening to truly terrible music late into the night, as though unaware that there are other people who have to work on weekends (every weekend, thanks boss...) and need to get to sleep at a reasonable hour - not one in the morning. And he cheers for the Flames. Which is bad enough on its own. And he cheers loudly. With a lot of swear words.

The guy downstairs is either dying of lung cancer...or he's just got a really terrible cough.

I wonder if they secretly want to stomp on the floor to shut us up, but I really doubt it. We're pretty quiet people, S. and I.

Good fences?

I think good walls make good neighbours.

Advice on the Radio

I wake up in the morning to CBC Radio. A good way to get a clue about the outside world, a bad way to remember dreams - they fade in the blur of murders and the many varied tragedies that are deemed important for me to know about.

This morning, although I don't remember what happened on the news (except for a school shooting in Germany), I did lay in bed and listen to half an hour of Q. They were going to interview some Monty Python people but couldn't get ahold of them, so instead they aired an interview they had already done with David Sedaris.

Working in a book store (which I may not be for much longer but that's another story) I see books and authors all around me every day that I was previously unaware of. David Sedaris is one of those authors. He's in the humour section. Guys are the ones who pick up his books so I had relegated him to a pile in my mind labled, not interesting.

What a mistake that was. The interview was fascinating. He's a morbid guy. Morbid and funny and all he does is observe the world around him. And when he writes about his friends and family, which he does a lot, he always clears it by them first. Gets them to read it and tell him if there's anything they want him to change. Why? Because he values his relationships over his writing. What he's going to share with the world, he clears with the ones he loves first.

That level of respect impressed me greatly.

I don't think I've done a very good job of doing that. So now I'm going to start.

It doesn't cramp my creativity. I write what I want and no-one stops me. But if I'm going to share that writing with the world? There is a fall out from that, and it had better be one that I, and those who are important to me, can live with.

Thank you, David Sedaris. You will probably never read this (unless you have that Google thing that lets you know anytime someone writes your name online) but thank you anyway.

No Shame

I have no shame. When I’m at work and I know a man is interested in me and not the books, I walk the very thin, precarious line of flirtation to see if I can make him buy something.

I have a pretty good record so far. Hurrah for the retail world. Just doing my part to stimulate…the economy.

And yesterday I got a phone number out of the deal.

Too bad I’m a) not single and b) 15 years younger than him.

At least he was good looking. He was from Montreal and has a steady job as a flight attendant for West Jet. When I said I’d thought about trying to get hired on there he said he could get me a job.

That was why he gave me his number…or at least the pretence.

I’m not sure whether I can follow up because I don’t know for sure that he had no ulterior motives. He was flirting pretty heavy by the time he gave me his number. At least, most guys don’t say they’re good marriage material in regular conversation.

Oh well. It’s not like I can work for West Jet right now anyways. I’m going to BC for the summer to work as a street performer. Maybe when I come back. If I have no acting work.

We’ll see.

Laughing

In the previous post I wrote that God was laughing at me.

I think I might be laughing along with now. Sheepishly, but laughing.

As Hope mentioned in her comment - free will and choice, not either/or. It's true. It's annoying sometimes but it's true.

And maybe that's what sparks the laughter. Realizing that I'm basically throwning a tantrum. I'm 25 now - I thought tantrums were supposed to be in my distant past?

Apparently not. So I'll go from banging my heels and screeching to ROTFL instead.

Choices, Always Choices

I hate change. I like having security - a steady job, a steady (if small) paycheque, a steady path layed out in front of me...to the grave...

If I am honest with myself I know that the steady path also bores me. The thought of spending my life that way fills me with a greater fear - that I will die unfulfilled because I chose to. Because I chose the easy, safe path.

Fuck!

I hate having to make choices where there is no right answer. Why can't God actually give me direction instead of free will and the ability to choose what I will do?

He drives me nuts.

I'm not sure I'd have it any other way. Difficult human that I am, I would rebel against any path set in front of me unless I set it there myself.

Well, fuck.

Back to square one, and somewhere, God is laughing at me. I know it.

Unwanted Empathy

Today I understand, at least a little, what my mom must have felt all those years Dad was driving truck in the snow and sleet and icy cold.

At least I know my love is stranded in a hotel while the storm rages outside.

Even if he isn't in the city he was supposed to be in right now.

But I'll take stranded far from home over never coming home any day.

Friday the 13th

I've had such a day today.

It's been a good day. It's been a lot of fun. Wonderful. Kind of beyond descriptors.

I convinced a homeschooling mother to read Twilight so her 12 year old has a chance to read it too. She then offered me a job. She had me write my name and number in the back of the book she hadn't yet purchased so she could give me a call and set up a meeting. I'm intrigued; that's why I actually wrote down my info.

I watched my boss get flowers from her significant other. It was sweet, and cute, and so endearing. Especially since I didn't know she had anyone, and she seemed so blushingly shy and thrilled about it all.

I saw a little girl in a plaid pleated skirt, with really cute boots and a tam o'shanter on. I suddenly wanted a little girl that I could dress up in cute outfits. I've never felt a maternal urge before. It's strong. Later I saw a little girl with such red hair, and it happened again. Hmm.

I saw an old man flirt with my manager and he was so smooth and wonderful at it, younger men should take lessons. Although I think it maybe takes a lifetime to learn. He also had a French-Canadian accent, and was talking about a large house, with an ocean front, and a huge library - things that appeal to women who work in bookstores.

I heard a brogue today that made me want to melt.

I slept in and still made it to work on time. It makes me wonder what I do for 45 minutes every morning - I could be sleeping.

I got to see my love again after almost four days apart. He walked in the door and my heart leapt.

I made chocolate chip cookies and ate the dough.

I told S. of my inexplicable maternal urges and he didn't respond. He was busy figuring out tax stuff - I've figured out when to spring things on him from now on.

I had a smoothie from Jugo Juice. It was good.

Ahh. If I had any worries about Fridays mixing with 13's, they ought to be gone by now.

27 Years

Typing that title reminded me of 27 Dresses, a movie that my mom would probably enjoy watching with me, although she'd have a hard time getting anyone who currently lives in the house with her to watch it with her. I don't get to see my family enough and I miss them - something I realized sharply today as I read letters from my sponsored child. Her letters are written by her grandparents, her father, her uncle - whomever she happens to be with that day. She gets to see them all, all the time. I told her she was lucky to have her family so close to her. She's probably too young to understand but that's okay.

It's fitting that I miss my family today, I suppose. Today, 27 years ago, my parents got married in the living room of the local Justice of the Peace. Rumour has it they had a fit of the giggles; that my mother took my father as her awfully wedded husband; that they forgot they needed more than one witness and had to get the daughter of the JP to sign the papers for them. Not what most would call an auspicious start to a marriage.

But hey. They must have done something right. 27 years of marriage is not a common achievement anymore. Probably because it takes a hell of a lot of work. Work that my parents have not always done with the gusto and enthusiasm that they have for it today. There were times when I was small that I was so afraid they'd get divorced and I'd never see my dad again. Or worse, I'd have to choose one of them to live with, and how does any child make that decision? It weighed on my young mind.

I am so grateful to them that I never had to make that choice. That they did do the work, and they did stick it out, and that they are still together today. And happy. They are happy, and that is something too because not all couples who have made 27 years are happy about it. Not every long-lasting marriage is as healthy as my parent's. Not every long-lasting marriage has two partners in it.

That's what my parents are. They are partners, and it makes my eyes tear up - why? Pride? Love? Joy? Probably a bit of all of those. Relief too. It is such a relief to see that in two people. I take a lot of hope from seeing my parents in their lives and their relationship. Nothing, or nearly nothing, is insurmountable in love if you are committed to making it work.

I see them together, knowing each other. My dad looks for something and without asking what he's looking for my mom will tell him where to find it. And she's right, and she just knew what he was after, without being told. I see my dad, loving my mom, and the joy and playfulness that is there makes the world an alright place to be.

It makes me have hope for myself. As a person. As a lover. As someone in a relationship. Possibly as a parent someday.

It gives me hope for the world.

So today - raise a glass with me to my parents, to their 27 years of growing together. May your joys increase. Your love always fill you up past overflowing. And may you share at least another 27 years together. I love you very much.

Notes On My Days

Note 1, at work: I should not have to wrestle with my fruit before I eat it.

Note 2, at home: I have bruised my temple from pressing it so hard when I had a migraine. I had no comprehension of my own strength. And wow, my head must have hurt to not notice that I was pushing my skull in that hard.

Note 3, at work: I don't have time to listen to a lecture on evolution. I'm here to help you find books, not listen to you pontificate on books you already own. Unless I've read them, liked them, and we have a conversation about them. Then I'll spare the time.

Note 4, at work: Some really strange people come in here. Some really strange people read books.

Note 5: Are children getting more spoiled? Or am I turning into an old lady - "Back when I was a kid..."
That's pretty much all I have right now. But I wanted to share it anyway.

Ten Things I Love

Here's how it works: you get a letter from someone who has done this meme, and then you write. My letter is N. I got it from Hope. If you want a letter, let me know and I'll give you a random one.

1. Now. I am learning to love now, anyway. I have spent so much of my life in the past or the future. Yoga is helping me to appreciate that all I have, the only real thing in my life, is the now.

2. ‘Nog. I didn’t used to like egg-nog, but I have been introduced to it, with milk and a bit of Baileys, and it’s quite good. There are those who think I’m a wiener for not drinking it straight. I’m sorry. It reminds me too much of the first milk from a ewe, all thick and sweet like sugary glue. And if you’re wondering how I know what that looks like, I’ve had to milk a ewe when her lamb wouldn’t nurse. And yes, I tasted it. People use to drink sheep milk, and I wanted to know if it was sweet like the books said. It is. Like egg-nog. So now I dilute my ‘nog, and all is well with the world.

3. Nails (as in fingernails). When they’re pretty and not breaking, that is. I had my first ever manicure last year and it was so nice. I just use my hands so much that it isn’t easy to maintain a well-groomed hand. Every time I see someone with beautiful hands I wish mine were like that too. Kind of.

4. News. I like to listen to the news on CBC Radio when I wake up. Yes, it’s depressing sometimes, but it makes me feel like I’m aware of and connected to the world around me. I started this habit when I was in Rosebud, where if you don’t make an effort to be aware, the world just passes you by and suddenly there’s a new prime minister and you didn’t even know there was an election. Okay, it’s not that bad…but almost.

5. Nosegays. That’s an old word for flowers, and it encompasses two things I love, flowers and old words. Especially flowers picked out of the wild, which then bring that wildness into the house, and old words used naturally and with no thought of trying to appear intellectually superior to the surrounding throngs.

6. Northern Lights. The first time I saw red northern lights I was sitting up in bed at the house my parent’s very nearly bought, looking through my large window in awe at the sky above the Hawthorne trees. I think the first time I heard northern lights was at that house too. We lived there for the last few years that I lived with my family. It surprises me that it took that long for me to hear the lights I saw every winter until I moved to Southern Alberta.

7. Novels! How could this one come so far down the list…well, it’s not in any particular order. Novels. I love reading books, and I really love reading fiction. The latest on my reading list has included Ender in Exile, Bird by Bird and Twilight. Yes, I’m reading Twilight. And yes, it is very enjoyable. If I had my way, I’d actually get a comfy chair at work and sit and read novels all day long until I had read 80% of the books we have (the other 20% don’t interest me…reference books, books on sports, etc.).

8. Numbers. Certain numbers, anyway. I have this weird things about numbers and days of the week, and certain months as well. Some seem to me to be round and soft; other are sharp and adventurous. I prefer (generally speaking) the sharp and adventurous numbers, week days, and months. Unless they are perfect in their roundness, and not dorky at all. February 28th is perfectly round. September 17th is perfectly sharp. May 5th is a stupid mix, trying to be sharp when it really should just give up and be round, but it never will and so it makes me feel irritable and jittery. I have no problem living through the day of May 5th – I just don’t like how it looks on paper, or how it sounds, or how it feels in my mouth or ears. M should make up it’s mind instead of sitting on the fence. Gah. My favourites? 7. 7 and maybe 9. 4 is decent too. And Thursday wins for days of the week, hands down. I’m not sure on months, since so much depends on what day of the month it is. My least favourite numbers are 5, and 3. And Monday.

9. Necks. I notice necks on men, the way they slide into shoulders and arms and torsos. Necks, manly necks, are so amazingly hot. I cannot describe my attraction to necks. And a beautiful graceful neck on a woman will capture my attention and I’ll find myself staring. Perhaps I am a vampire at heart. Necks are beautiful.

10. Nuzzle. This could go along with necks, I guess; a seductive nuzzle on a neck is pretty nice (ha! Alliteration!). But there is something so tender about nuzzling too. Just watch a newborn lamb being nuzzled by it’s mother, and you see right there how immediate the bond is between the two of them. I know they’re animals but I think they feel love too. And to see love between anything outside myself fills me with a peace about my life and the world around me – that it will all be okay somehow, because other people (and beings) love.