Oh, there was something else I wanted to say. I just got the best birthday present I think I could ever get. Today, Dave came in to give me a magazine which had mistakenly been delivered to Hill Haus. He walked all the way down to the store to give me this magazine, which he could have just thrown into the trash.

I'd been hoping he'd forgive me for what I did and what I said, the way I've tried to forget the way he hurt me. I hold nothing against him anymore, I just know for a fact that I'll never live with him again, that's all.

There's no reason in my mind why we can't be friends, if somewhat different friends, friends with a past. Sit-com friends who seem to forget everything from episode to episode, who only carry a broad character arc around as a guide.

I hope he can forgive me. I know my flawed memory has helped me to forgive him.
Posted by hKath at 2:05 AM ()

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I want to warn you that I won't be talking about the World Trade Center very much today. This is mostly because my brain isn't allowing me to focus on those details at the moment. I think it's part of coping; I just can't think of it right now.

So I started today not with a bang, but a whimper. I'm now glad I haven't given blood yet, because I very nearly fainted dead away on the sidewalk while waiting for the bus. I sat and started feeling dizzy and weak, then realized that maybe I hadn't eaten for a while. My vision started to blur, then it started leaving me. World is there, world is gone, world is there, world is gone. Just like it always does. The fact that I can say that worries me. I'd never fainted before last year.

Somehow I managed to call Phill at work and explain that I couldn't come in right away. I don't know how I did that, I couldn't even see the phone. How did I unlock it, let alone set it to speed dial?

Anyway, I went home, rested for about an hour and then felt much better. I still don't know what that was about.

Later on in the day, Matt came in and we sent him home because he said he felt sick. He's naturally pretty troubled, so Tuesday has pretty much pushed him to a kind of breaking point. After work, I went for coffee with him and we talked a little about what happened. Mostly, we talked about coffee, and work, and vaguely about ambition and talent. I guess I went into it thinking that I could fix all of his problems, which is stupid, because no one can do that. But I hope I helped out, at least.

He amuses me, because he keeps asking me if I'll go to the Toronto Women's Bookstore with him. He is afraid to say that he thinks I am a lesbian, so whenever I question him regarding the reasons behind his thinking I belong there, he stutters out something about feminism and assumes he has insulted me.

The truth is, I am very rarely offended nowadays. I think it's funny when people think I'm a guy. I like it when people think I'm a lesbian. I'm flattered when lesbians flirt with me (like that couple who was in the other night, renting Coyote Ugly, of all things. Mmmmm...). Anyone can think what they want about me. Chances are, it's partly true.

I didn't do any work at all. Between fainting and Matt, I spent less than 4 hours in the store. *shrug* All in a day's work, people. All in a day's work.
Posted by hKath at 1:57 AM ()

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Thursday, September 13

I dreamed about you, our heads pressed together. I can't express what a comfort it was, even in sleep... thanks for being my teddy bear, though you'll never know it.
Posted by hKath at 3:35 PM ()

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I just want to say that I share AJ's feelings about retaliation. I wish it were possible for America to take care of its own losses and not have to worry about possible future attacks. Because in an ideal world, there is never retaliation. In my ideal world, anyway. Retaliation doesn't solve anything.

For the third day in a row, third day since this happened, I am spending hours and hours completely alone. I don't think this is good for me. Tuesday, at least, I went to work after eight hours. Yesterday it was seventeen hours before I saw a soul. People in classes and shopping malls do not count. I've never related wtih students, and I hate anyone for being in a shopping mall right now, including myself.

I find myself crying now and I can't even explain it rationally anymore. I'm dreaming of my friends. I don't know how I'm going to handle tonight. I'm having flashbacks to the dinner of the birthday which is rated 2. They are not good. I would like to promise that I will get impressively drunk before the night is through. But my friends have other things to do, things that didn't get cancelled. I know where I'll end up. Here.
Posted by hKath at 12:45 PM ()

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For some reason, blogger's quick-post thingee likes to put the URL of the last site I visited into the text box. I think that's kind of cool, actually. I might leave that there eventually. Although most sites will be uninteresting, probably mail and such.

Today is the birthday of my first crush, a dark-skinned boy with hair of bright orange who used to beat me up after school.

I am wearing the cutest fucking pajamas. The cutest! They're thick and long-sleeved, but I'm still cold. I think it's just me.

Birthday status: over.

Birthday rating: 1

After today, I felt I needed a ratings system, a way of ranking birthdays. It won't make sense to anyone but me, though, so I won't bother going on about it.

I just wish I could stop feeling guilty for trying to cheer my own damn self up. And now, of course, feeling guilty for talking about trying to cheer my own self up on this website, which should be, you know, shut down or something during the bad stuff. Bad stuff should not be written about in personal websites. It's crude and insensitive. Yet here I am doing it anyway, and feeling horrible about it. But what else can I do?

I'm scared. I always get scared when I get cold. That's because I usually get cold right before breaking down. Although I'm not quite sure how I can top the madness from earlier.

I should just sleep. Sleep, and forget anything ever happened.
Posted by hKath at 2:10 AM ()

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Wednesday, September 12

I'm on the phone with my 13-year-old cousin. It is surprisingly easy to talk about all that's happening with her. I wish I had kids. I've heard people complain that it's hard to tell kids about these things. But it feels good to have someone to comfort, to reassure. It feels in control.
Posted by hKath at 10:18 PM ()

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I am destroyed.

Couldn't give blood today. I set off from school with terrific intentions. I knew if I was going to give blood and not faint, I would have to eat a good meal; but the campus was crowded, so I got on a bus, intending to eat at Yorkdale Shopping Centre on the way.

At Yorkdale, I thought it might be a good idea, since I was having such a crappy birthday, to see if I couldn't find something at the Bay that I could buy on my credit card and that would make me feel a little special, at least for a while.

I wandered around the store, spent a lot of time in the toy section. Realized I was hyperventilating. Realized the reason I hadn't found anything I wanted was that I felt incredibly guilty for... everything. For thinking about myself. I left the store crying and longing to go home and pull the covers over my head. So that's what I did. I slept for almost five hours.

I'm so lonely. The worst part is, if I had someone to talk to, I probably wouldn't want to.
Posted by hKath at 9:25 PM ()

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post, you fucker!
Posted by hKath at 10:14 AM ()

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"Dear Kath - thousands are dead. Love, Kath. PS- Happy Birthday"

People don't quite know what to say to me, it seems. They ignore the obvious, concentrate on the cliches. It's kind of funny, actually, in a very sad way. I find it sickening that I feel a little bit proud of all these newspapers with gigantic headlines and gory pictures, all dated today, September 12, my twenty-first. Not proud, exactly. Just... strange. I imagine myself in fifty years, pulling out these papers and showing them to my grandchildren, telling them about yesterday. It's a crazy image. My head spins.

Everyone talks when things like this happen, about what they think should be done. They sprout cliches to convey how they feel. I can't do that here. Maybe I'm too self-centered to put out a general statement, to use words like tragedy, condolences, sympathy. These things are invariably felt on my part, but I don't think the internet needs any more of those words, and they're tiresome to write, and even more tiresome to read.

So I went to work yesterday. An employee I didn't know was outside smoking when I got there. I joined him, and he introduced himself as Jan from another store. This is basically how our conversation went.

Me, still in shock and looking for someone to share it with: "Can you believe it?"
Jan: "What?"
Me, dreading having to break the news to him: "You mean you haven't heard?"
Jan: "Heard about what?"
Me: "There were terrorist attacks on New York and Washington today. Thousands of people might be dead."
Jan: "Oh, that."

W-w-w-what????

Exchanges with my boss and another employee were pretty much a variation on the same script. I stood there in complete disbelief as it sunk in. That these people could talk about something this gigantic as if it were outside of them. Luckily, before the end of the night, Adam came in and finally I got to talk to someone who gave a damn.

Today so far has been all right. As long as no one reminds me that it's my birthday I can go on having a fairly okay day. I've already received three emails and two phone calls. I guess it would be alright if people could say what they're actually thinking instead of the usual "Have a great day" mumbo jumbo. I feel for them. I'd probably write that too. In all of my FHDC signatures (and there were a lot, considering I haven't been there in a year or so), only Brandie mentioned yesterday's events, and I love her for it. We shouldn't try to forget this stuff. It's not the kind of thing that gets smoothed over, easier to take.

I'm going to go give blood later, although I hear there's up to a five-hour wait. I just hope they don't ask me my birthday. I just checked my blood donor card to make sure it's not on there. It's not. Thank god, because imagine how awkward that would be.

Nurse, way too chipper, as she's sticking a needle into my arm for the third time: "It's your birthday??"
Me, mumbling, as we are both keeping an eye on a TV above which is showing footage of people dragging bodies out of wreckage: "...yeah..."
Nurse, reverting to uh-oh cliche mode I spoke of earlier: "Well, happy birthday! I hope you have a great day!"
Me, through clenched teeth, as she finally finds a vein in my arm: "Thank you."

Susan Werner's show tomorrow, which I'd been planning on going to as a looking-forward-to-it-all-summer birthday event, has been cancelled, or rather postponed to a later, less meaningful date. My class right now is cancelled as well. I don't know what I'm going to do. If the constant reminder of what happened wasn't enough, someone had to add severed boredom due to all my plans being cancelled. There is nothing else to do, nothing else to think about.

Here on IRC, they have just fallen into cliche mode as well, just now. I don't blame them.
Posted by hKath at 9:44 AM ()

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Tuesday, September 11

Still hasn't hit home. I'm not looking forward to looking people in the face today, not looking forward to going to work. I think I will yell at people who come into the store. WAKE UP! GO HOME! HUG YOUR FAMILY!
Posted by hKath at 4:22 PM ()

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There are just no words. How do I leave my home today?
Posted by hKath at 11:29 AM ()

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Monday, September 10

Well, as you can probably tell, I've been working on the site. The goal of this is to eventually get myself to write more, to use the site, and to record more quotes (a page which I should probably create before I leave, now that I mention it) and other stuff. I hate the way the other site looked/felt. It looked like wood paneling makes me feel. And that's well, not so good sometimes.

But now my shoulders ache from transferring all of my old journal entries. It took over an hour to get the whole thing through. Now I kind of want to just delete all the old files, if not from the dark recesses of my flawed hard drive, then at least from my server. Mmmmm... sweet cleansing.

So... you can't go anywhere right now. I'm sorry, that's just the way it is, soon there will be quotes and a message board and you will LOVE IT LOVE IT LOVE IT, you will want to fuck it like little bunnies.

And there I go sounding like the author of the book which I am currently reading but not even enjoying that much. Why do I do that?

Disregard what lies below, please. It'll be easy in a week or so when it's neatly archived and put away, but for now you can just ignore the giant lump of typographical waste which lies below. It is old, it is not me. Pay no attention to the girl behind the text, behind the curtain.

I just almost spelled curtain curtyn. Why would I do that? Are curtains trying to assert themselves as a diverse population? Are there gay curtains? If one rubs up against you, does that make you gay too? Or does it make you a curtain?

I don't know what the hell I'm saying. As I said, pay no mind.

I just had my first creative writing class. I have mixed feelings. My professor seems a little too shy and doesn't read aloud very well, which was a drag today because she read us a large excerpt (a good one, no worries) - about six or seven pages. Oh, she doesn't have *trouble* reading, if that's what you think I mean. I would never judge someone for that. It's just that she is one of these people who overacts when they read. As if they are rehearsing a one-man show and they are a MEGA STAR. It very often drives me nuts. But I'm sure I'll get used to it. Also, my tutorial instructor looks like a snarky sorta-graying lady who putters around in her garden in between playing Playstation and surfing. She's one of Those. I'm not even quite sure what Those are yet, I just know I like them.

I repeat, do not look below.

I'm going to be leaving in a little while to meet Fiona at the Only Remaining Fran's. The Only Remaining Fran's used to be just called Fran's, but since its other two oh-so-convenient locations have closed down, we (or at least I) have renamed it. I think they should adopt the name officially, use it on their napkins. It would add an air of tragedy that the current drab diner-that's-not-even-trying look is lacking.

Afterwards, we are going to Radio Monday, where Luke is playing. I feel as though I have stepped into a time-warp, will get to be twenty all over again. It's fall. It's not supposed to be fall. Somehow this year, summer should have gone on forever, scorching and punishing. There's no fall this year. This is last year's fall.

Posted by hKath at 5:07 PM ()

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08.16.00-
I wrote this a few days ago, while I was high. Just FYI, I'm not out-of-my-head angry anymore, but I do constantly feel this way. I almost wish I could get past it, but then I don't see any good reasons to forget about all this and move on.

For some reason, my anger level has risen to a tremendously high number today. In fact, I believe I may be rating it in triple digits. I have no idea what that means, but really, that's how I'm interpreting it.

It's not the pot, although I'm sure that it isn't helping. But I've been stoned lots of times without this gritty bitter feeling. And it's unfortunate but not unfair that my roommate has become the focus of my sudden quiet rage.

She deserves it. She's put me through enough grief. I mean, she never has even acknowledged that I've gone through several depressions in the time she's known me, much less ever tried to help. So why should I have offered my own assistance to her when she suddenly announced to the whole world that she was feeling less than fine? To add insult to injury, the world which was so relentlessly pushing me into a suicidal dark cloud during aforementioned depressions just parted around her when she wanted it to. Work let her take off as long as she wanted. She allowed herself to let her rent and bill-paying duties slide. The world which had been whirling out of control for me, holding me hard against its centre with centripital force just stopped for her. It was as easy as asking it to.

So fuck her. If I need a fairweather friend, I'll hop onto the information superhighway and find one.

For just that reason, there's a part of me that wants to provoke her. I suppose that's the self-destruction, Fight Club part of me coming through.

Or maybe it's just my new urge to feel valuable. We were sitting at McDonald's tonight and I brought it up. Something I'd just noticed was nagging at me, and it had probably been at the back of my mind for years. The "secret" club that I belong to, she gets credit for starting it. All of it, and that is a lot of wows and hugs and thanks and cheers and congrats over the years. The truth is, we both came up with the idea, and the only reason she's the "boss" is that she beat me to dejanews (as it was called back then) by a few seconds. No one knows this, and of course, she accepts their praise without even thinking that maybe I feel slighted.

Well, until now, that is, because I just brought it up over milkshakes. To which, of course, Miss "Run-Away-From-Her-Problems" immediately replied "I don't want to talk about this."

Whatever. If you're not going to bother listening, neither will I.

Honestly, all of this was much easier when everyone was mad at her. She seems to have taken a resurgence in popularity lately, and for some reason, the secondary effects of that have been bad for me. I's like we're symbiotic. When she's happy, I'm not, and vice-versa.

Posted by hKath at 4:50 PM ()

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08.17.00-
It's interesting how untidiness can get you down. And it can lead to even more untidiness, which in my house, we often let it do. I daydream about clean kitchens, swept floors and no garbage lying around. But I don't do anything about it. Neither does anyone else. And it hurts me every time I look at it, yet the more scummy everything becomes, the more some poor part of me seems to enjoy it.

Part of it is that everyone is challenging everyone else. I mean thoughts of "I always empty the garbage, so this time I'll let it overflow and we'll see how they like it" have crossed my mind occasionally. Mainly, it's a cross between that and laziness, and it saddens me that four people are so inadequate at taking care of themselves and each other.

Posted by hKath at 4:50 PM ()

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08.24.00-
I really wish everyone was as real and honest and stripped down as they could possibly be. Over the past three years I've met a lot of horribly fake people. I've made a lot of friends. But for each of these friends, I've encountered one who I couldn't for the live of me spend five minutes with without wanting to shake sense into them.

There are so many symptoms: name-dropping, snobbiness, self-righteousness, blaséness, pretending they hate something just to consider themselves "cooler" than the people who like it. Dealing with that kind of falseness and hidden agenda-ing is so tiring. How hard is it to say something and mean it? I guess some people just aren't conscious of doing that.

We were talking about this earlier. This whole "I'm more *in* than you" game comes and goes in waves. They're big waves, the size of years. But it really does come and go, or rather, the people do.

Posted by hKath at 4:49 PM ()

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09.01.00-
Well, tomorrow is the end. Not of the band per se, I don't think, but of this particular incarnation of it. It's definitely a milestone. There's an impossibly long stretch of perpetual touring that is finally winding down. I'm very proud of the band members for finally calling it quits after not having a real break for... as long as I've known them. And way longer before that.

I understand that it must be terribly difficult for them, especially with, excuse the term, a plethora of psycho fans. I've already encountered some pretty sorry individuals who were unnaturally distraught at the very *idea* that this might be the end. Someone told me, weeping, that Moxy Früvous keeps her stable. I didn't know what to say to that. I just hope that instead of acting on their (probably very real) emotions of loss, these people come to their senses. I don't think any of us want it to end badly.

Posted by hKath at 4:48 PM ()

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09.12.00-

Happy fucking birthday, bitch! :)

Well, so far (9:30 AM) my day is just the way I imagined it. Maybe worse, considering the early hour. The subway broke down (I don't even want to think about jumpers), I feel gritty and tired and angry. The reception into my film class was chilly at best. There are at least 7 people I know, but none of them greeted me. I just want to crawl back to sleep. But there's nowhere to sleep here. Nowhere for miles, as a matter of fact! Even Ani couldn't cheer me up this morning. My favourite album on my walkman just sort of blared in the background of my mood.

I'm twenty. I thought I'd be happy about that. But no one else around here seems to be, so why dare to be different? A thought occured to me as I was waiting for the aforementioned broken-down subway train. "At least this is better than last year." No wonder I'm all upset about it, if I have so many memories that influence me that way.

Oh, and Degrassi Junior High Girl is here. She walked into my film production class this morning. Just what I needed, a whole YEAR with goddamn Stephanie K.

Flash forward four hours:
So that was early morning crabbiness brought to you by You Don't Know Jack, the videogame that kept Kath up till one AM. In other news, I can't find Mindy Munson. This makes me sad. I was really hoping to bump into her around here soon, as going back to school (where everyone knows each other and no one knows me) is pretty lonely. Plus, I wanted her to come to my birthday thingee tonight. That would have been really nice.

I'm intrigued. MC, after she told me, in a bout of anger, about the birthday thing, asked if I wanted to know who was going to be there. She asked as though people I weren't expecting were going to be there. Well I already knew Luella was planning to come, because Luella told me, and I assumed Heather was invited (which was later confirmed by MC's "I have to call Heather" secrecy technique). Plus me, MC, Fiona and Dave. Did she think I wouldn't figure that out? Or is there someone else that I'm forgetting? Or will I be faced with a roomfull of strangers? A surprise and a half, let me write this down as something to do to a friend someday.

So anyway, excuse the earlier bitterness. If I'm bitter, I will keep it for myself until a time when I can put it up here and be coherent (instead of a rambling madwoman).

Posted by hKath at 4:48 PM ()

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09.18.00-
This is sad, in a ridiculous way. I'm systematically being cut off from all my friends in the most blatant manner. First, Dave came home and became intolerable, always hollering about cleanliness and how he needs to get his life in order and to live like an adult. Then, Fiona got mad at me about something that I do all the time, which is bicker. I live to bicker. I know, I know, find another hobby. Whatever, I will. Then, MC tells me she's moving back to Ottawa. I'm sure this will later be explored in great detail, but right now my less eloquent reaction is "Fine, whatever, fuck your ass off and leave me in this hell, I'll live. Love (and highest regards), Kath." Now (there always has to be a cherry somewhere) my computer has started adding lovely things like *5 and /7 and other symbols in all the wrong places when I type. The fact that MC was the one who was using the computer when it started doing that is only fair, right? And so now my principal method of contact with my out of town friends is compromised as well. Will the torture end? Nah, probably not.

I just went to my first acting class. The instructor is cute. So cute in fact that I think the only thing that stopped me from unabashedly flirting with him is that I'm having a fat day. Luckily, the room wasn't paneled in mirrors or anything. Well, the fat day, and the fact that a guy I know, Trevor, is in the class as well. The introduction of just one person you know, or rather who knows you, into a group of strangers is quite interesting. It changes the whole group dynamic. Anyhow, it was a lot like I expected it to be. A normal acting class, only in University instead of at the National Arts Center rehearsal space. We get to do a monologue. I hope we get to pick it.

This second paragraph brought to you by Kath's desperate attempt at not sounding desperate. Got donations? Send c/o Apathy, 652 Hillsdale Ave E, Toronto, ON, M4S 1V3.

Posted by hKath at 4:47 PM ()

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09.25.00
This is something I wrote in a journal I'm supposed to keep for an acting class I'm taking. I don't see the connection to acting either, but I'm not taking it out of there. I think it's honest, and I like that.

I keep lots of journals. It's something I've always wanted to be able to do, and now, finally, after many a failed attempt, I believe it's working.

Anyway, last night I brought something up that MC and Fiona told me to write down, and since I haven't come up with anything yet for this journal, this seems as good a place as any.

There's this store somewhere near Steeles and Dufferin. I bus past it twice daily, and have never gotten off the bus at that stop, but someday I will. The name of the store is Kids Interior Design Store, which some marketing genius penned in an effort to make a K.I.D.S. acronym work (there aren't very many words that start with K other than "kids"; kayak? koala? karat?).

A mild annoyance is the appearance of the word "store" in the acronym (which I find incredibly weak), and in fact that's quite another story and doesn't interest me nearly as much as that K...

Because the word "Kids" is in the acronym itself. Someone should tell whoever thought that up that when you create that kind of acronym (the kind that spells a real word, not like NASA or SMPTE), it's like creating a finite universe where word=acronym.

I mean, any visiting martian would look at the sign and think "Well, I guess "kids" means Kids Interior Design Store." And they'd be right. The problem I have with this is that, the word "kids" being in the acronym, the damn thing, in theory, goes on ad infinitum.

I just know one of these days I'll go crazy and get off the bus at that stop, and walk into the store very calmly. Then I'll just start screaming. "YOUR SIGN DOES NOT MAKE SENSE!" over and over. "IT'S A FRACTAL!"

Which is what it is. I mean, think about it. K.I.D.S... KIDS interior design store... Interior Design Store... Interior Design Store. You're spelling out "kids" every time and it just keeps going. I have this impression every time I ride by there that in the not-too-distant future, I am trapped and choking on roger-rabbit-esque (the book, not the movie) bubbles of text being perpetually generated and tossed out into the atmosphere by that one small store somewhere near Steeles and Dufferin.

I don't think I've ever felt this violently about anything so minor before. I realize how useless it is to spend my energy on, but I just can't seem to not do just that. It's a kind of frenzied annoyance which overtakes me every time I think about it (including now - and I'm about to get on that bus again!).

Posted by hKath at 4:47 PM ()

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09.26.00-
I'm leaving for Ottawa later today. I've emailed about everyone I can think of who might need me during this time (however long it is), but I still feel like I'm walking out on something. My maternal grandmother is in critical condition. When Brandy woke me this morning to tell me that my dad had called and that one of my two grandmothers was sick, I got used to that idea. I do that. It's bad, but it's the way I cope. I get used to the idea that they are going to die, and I move on. I was alright, until he called me.

I would have been fine had it been anything but a brain aneurism. My mom had a brain aneurism burst ten years and four months ago. I made this kind of mistake then too... I assumed (at the time, I was allowed: I was ten years old) that she was going to die. Everyone kept telling me how probable it was, they were making sure I'd be ready if it happened. Well, my mother lived. But by that time, I'd gotten so used to the idea that she was dead, that it was like living with a ghost. Not to mention that she'd changed. She suddenly had the mind of a child. I felt like the mature one. She was unsure about everything, and didn't trust herself to remember anything, convinced she had serious memory problems. She did, at first, but after a while it became obvious (to me, anyway) that she was just lacking confidence.

Living with a ghost was enfuriating for the ten-year-old that I was. It was just too tiring to adopt someone new into my brand-new two-person family, as ridiculous as that sounds. It took me a long time to get used to my "new mom". I don't think I respected her as much as I should have then, and I don't think I quite treat her the same, even now that she's finally gaining the confidence to become a regular person again.

So learning that my grandmother (who we're all very close to) had a brain aneurism came as a giant shock this morning. She was the one who told me about my mother. I was a latchkey kid growing up. I didn't have many friends, and I spent a great deal of time alone or with imaginary friends. On the day my mother had the brain aneurism, I was sitting at home watching the movie "It" for what must have been the fortieth time in a row. My grandmother came in and told me what had happened. That my mom had first gone deaf, and then, if I recall correctly, collapsed on a bus just blocks from where she was supposed to meet my dad for lunch. She didn't really understand what had happened then, and we drove to the hospital together in a state of shock.

Now it's her turn. What's funny and sweet and poignant and very movie-like or Richard-Russo-novel-like about it, is where she was last night when it happened. My grandmother is and always has been a gambling addict. She is always happiest when playing bingo, or cards. When they built the casino in Hull, she spent night after night there exploring all the different ways that she could fulfill her addiction. Her family finally got worried that she had a gambling problem, and tried to keep her away from the casino as much as possible, fearing that she might, I don't know, gamble away her life savings or something (although to give her credit, she does win an awful lot). So, last night, when her aneurism burst, she was at the casino. Doing what she likes best. I think that's great.

Posted by hKath at 4:46 PM ()

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10.02.00-
ACK! I can't think of what to write here today, I just know I really want to write something here. Watch this:

How can I go home with nothing to say?
I know you're going to look at me that way,
And say, "What did you do out there?
"What did you decide?
"You said you needed time and you had time."

You are a china shop and I am a bull,
You are really good food, and I am full.
I guess everything is timing,
I guess everything's been said,
So I am coming home with an empty head.

You'll say, "Did they love you or what?"
I'll say, "They love what I do.
"The only one who really loves me is you."
You'll say, "Girl you kicked some butt."
I'll say, "I don't really remember,
"But my fingers are sore, my voice is too."

You'll say, "It's really good to see you."
You'll say, "I missed you horribly."
You'll say, "Let me carry that, give that to me."
And you will take the heavy stuff,
And you will drive the car,
And I'll look out the window and make jokes 'bout the way things are.

How can I go home with nothing to say?
I know you're going to look at me that way,
And say, "What did you do out there?
"What did you decide?
"You said you needed time and you had time."

Remind you of anything, I might ask?

Posted by hKath at 4:46 PM ()

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10.04.00-
Woah. I don't know why I'm so stressed out. I woke up this morning feeling like I'd been drinking coffee nonstop all night instead of sleeping. Last night was nice. It ended abruptly early, unfortunately, but I basically fell in love with all the males on stage (except for the one in the leather - yisch) and one of the females. Alan Frew sounds like Crowded House, only normal. And Scottish. And Fiona, if he's ever in town, I'm going. I really loved Bill Priddle from Treble Charger too - I thought his lyrics were amazing, and I also think it's sad that he might have to almost subdue them for the sake of the band. I woke up this morning to the song "American Psycho" playing on the radio, and it was just not the same guy. That's really too bad. Mitch Miller... well, he tried to pick up Mindy. Clumsily. He was cute. His voice was very rough. MC described his style as Sesame Street music. I can't say that I disagree with any of that, but I still liked him a lot.

THEN there was those other people. I swear. Do they always give the last spot to make-you-cringe hokey loudmouths? Last time it was the political adoption woman who wouldn't have been so bad, except her speeches were all 15 minutes long... and so were her songs. This time, it was a lovely Karaoke show, as we were treated to songs about love, dreams, puddles, teddy bears and (of course) amethysts, as performed by two very loud, very flat people and a keyboard. Oh, God. Oh, oh, God. Halfway through their first song I got up to get a drink. Halfway through their second, I downed my drink to try to make the music more bearable. Unfortunately, it didn't help very much. The only thing that helped were Mike Wood's comments :)

The band Sulk were just... bland. I mean, their songs were groovy, but they were... bland. It was too bad, I think they could have really had something if they had stopped trying to be cool for just a second or two. Lorraine what's-her-name from Parachute Club was entertaining. MC says she can't tell her songs apart, and I realized that I can't either, but that it doesn't really matter since I enjoyed both of them :)

So yeah, yeah... here's what I thought of Jian's teeny two-song setlist. Let's start with the less fantastic. "Natalia". Hm. Nice theme. The subject matter is there, it's a good subject, and it comes through. But man, no song's chorus should end with the words "be your man" (unless it's the chorus to Odds' "I Would Be Your Man" which has those exact words in it, but somehow, it's good). Seriously. It just gives less credit to the whole rest of the song. And there WERE some beautiful images in it, they just sort of faded in the presence of that horrendous lingering lyric.

And then he played the song he wrote for Trudeau. I'm not sure what I was expecting. There were all these allusions to Candle In The Wind onstage. I was cringing and thinking (geez, I wish you'd played the other song you were going to play). Then he started. And it was really nice. Simple, personal, and honest. Probably the best song I've ever heard him sing. I was very impressed. So, congrats, Jian.

On another note, I do believe I've gotten my foot in the door of something awesome today. Bryn, a film student whose ideas I've always been in awe of, has the most amazing proposal I've ever heard. Over the summer, she participated in an art fashion where an artist painted her naked body (apparently the process takes hours) along with four others, and then she walked into a gallery full of people. Apparently, the feeling associated with this experience is a brand of self-confidence not often come by. She wants to film five men and five women going through this experience, and have them discuss body issues. I think it is probably the best idea I have ever heard, and I am honoured that I might get to do sound recording on her project. I'm just so psyched about this, it's not even funny. I would devote years to this project, if I could. I think it's incredibly valid, and the way that she states it makes its intention so clear and straightforward. It's wonderful.

Posted by hKath at 4:46 PM ()

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10.07.00-
I was shooting my video project today. With two guys. I didn't realize there was going to be a logistical problem inherent in that until we began moving the equipment around. See, we've got a lot of really heavy, awkward equipment and cases. And somehow, they were planning to carry the heavy stuff and leave me with battery packs and papers. But I wasn't taking none of that bullshit. So it made for an interesting morning about town, until we got used to the idea of equal work for equal pay (pay in this case being zero).

I don't know yet what I think of the footage. I mean, most of it is very well shot... we'll have to see how it cuts together. We still have at least two more days of shooting to go. Monday, and then a day at York sometime hopefully next week. I hate that my availability for filming is limited due to the fact that this is Norman Jewison week for my Canadian Movies seminar... First, because I really need to get these shots done as soon as possible, and second because Norman Jewison is not what I would call a Canadian director. I mean, I'd call him a Canadian, sure, but I wouldn't call his films Canadian. Anyhow, I get to meet him Wednesday, and then I'm supposed to be at the Bloor Cinema (for those of you moxyfruvous superfans who stumbled on here, surely by mistake, yes, it's the same one) for another talk by him and a showing of the Hurricane.

It's funny, every paragraph I write in here seems to take me back to racism or sexism or somekind of ism. I mused to Fiona tonight that I wish I was black, because then all the intolerance-induced rage in my head would be taken seriously, instead of just being the ramblings or a white girl who doesn't know what she's talking about. I wrote a nice lump of text on racism while the cable modem was down, that I was going to post here, but it's just not timely now.

Fiona said "the curse of the privileged". I think I took that to mean that I felt privileged and therefore guilty that others didn't have what I have. Which, I mean, I don't have a lot. It's not like I'm a rich little white girl, by any means (although I'm sure I've invested a good portion of my life's earnings in Ani DiFranco albums... another added to the collection just today ;) "Now I have twelve children! I shall call you Not So Soft"). I don't feel privileged. I live on a planet that pretends that everything is fine. It's not yet. We weren't nearly done and somewhere it feels like someone stopped the boat. And it's frustrating.

That's it. That's all I have to say tonight.

Posted by hKath at 4:45 PM ()

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10.15.00-
It's my Dad's birthday today. He's forty-nine :) Which means exactly six years till retirement (he probably knows how many days, so I won't bother counting them here), so I hope he reads this! Happy Birthday to my favourite guy! I hope you USE your damn present! A lot. Mr Cohen ;)

I guess what must be in honour of your birthday (we did do it after midnight last night), I cut off most of my hair. I am now sporting a cute little bob. I must have been pretty desperate to have short hair, or I wouldn't have let MC and her dull scissors near my head ;) Nah, just kidding, it's pretty satisfactory. For now. I will want it even shorter soon, I'm sure. But for now, I'll just be content with adding blue streaks sometime this week... what the hell is it with me, that I'm suddenly li'l miss punk rock?? If the old me was here, sitting around, hiding under the bed or something, she'd be openly (but hopefully good-naturedly) laughing at the new me. Is there such a thing as a new me? I hope not.

The at-home haircut was actually pretty hilarious, all things considered. It's not every time you go for a haircut that you hear a tentative "Oops, that was sloppy," from behind you after one decisive snip. Throughout the whole haircut, MC kept saying "You'll like it, it's Ani-like." Which had to be the most hilarious statement ever, to me, anyway. Ani WHEN? I don't think any one person on earth has had as many hairstyles as she has. (and speaking of Ani... well, here.)

Sheryl and Eric are staying with us for the weekend, and yesterday was a wonderful day. Sheryl needed to get some sort of gay pride paraphernalia(sp?) for a presentation she's doing on Gays, Lesbians, Bisexuals and Transgenders in America (I think). Nevermind that this isn't the America the title is referring to, we went down to Church and Wellesley and hung around for a few hours. And we just met a ton of very friendly people (including Danny, the silly-necklace maker, who we all bought a necklace from.

This is odd. The end of this entry just sort of got bitten off. Oh, well.

Posted by hKath at 4:45 PM ()

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10.23.00-
Well, just when you start saying "Geez, I wish life would be like a TV show", you find that suddenly your friends and acquaintances have turned into one big ensemble cast, and that each new day is an episode, and there you are on Felicity or some shit like that. ("I wonder if that Mike Wood character will make an appearance in this one - he's hilarious.") Yesterday MC, Fiona, Hugo and I went to see Susan Werner together. And she, well, she was beyond words. But she's not what I want to write about right this second...

The fact is that I guess we're all growing up. As a group. I don't mean that individuals are maturing (although hopefully we all are going forward and not backward) but that we are forming different kinds of bonds and starting to have a lot of history with one another. And I mean that for everyone who reads this page... You guys are my friends, and all I want to do is know you more, and know you better, and find new ways to relate to you.

Because you know, otherwise we're all just kind of treading water, instead of getting somewhere.

So yesterday was a bit awkward. I think. The truth is, I'm not a mindreader, and I'm not even that good at detecting hints, so I don't know what the hell the situation is between me and Hugo, except that physical distance seems necessary (I don't mean miles, but feet). And well, okay, that's fine, whatever. He doesn't seem to like to be reminded that we were once good friends. Enh, it's too bad, because I have some pretty good memories of all that. But the situation certainly adds increased tension to the group dynamic, although it's sort of a fake tension... a little glamourous if you know what I mean. It makes me wonder if we're constantly becoming what we see on television. Because (even though I never saw an episode) I think this is what Melrose Place looked like. Well, if you forget the fact that no one on Melrose Place wore glasses or was overweight in the slightest. Still.

Sometimes the TV-like nature of your life is what helps you keep on living it. If I imagine someone watching me, I am more inclined to do things that are interesting and stimulating to me. Doesn't everyone live life like they're on TV? I watch people in the streets, and everything, the way they walk, talk, dress, act, even the way they watch others, makes me think that they are playing to some invisible camera. And sometimes this can be fun, like when you're on an especially funny or exciting episode. But I really wish we could unlearn all this TV-ness. I really wish we could get rid of the frames. Because I want to be able to do what I want without thinking "Geez, we're turning this into a Friends episode", or whatever. I guess what I'm saying is, I want our lives to be original. No one's getting a story credit on my life. That's all.


Posted by hKath at 4:44 PM ()

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11.04.00-
So... I'm in the midst of redesigning absolutely *everything*. Which is really not what I should be midsting in right now. There are plenty of other things I have to do. Funny how my school goes on strike and still I have more schoolwork than ever before in my life!

I just got an email from a friend in Japan. A film we made together is getting some award from TVO and we get to go a ceremony and have dinner and bring guests and stuff. I think I'm bringing MC and Fiona. Two guests each. They'll expect my parents, but hey, I think MC and Fiona are good parent substitutes in this case. They can clap and say "honey" and stuff. They're good at that. So I'm really psyched! I can't wait to have our little award hanging on the wall at school either. I hope we all get a copy for ourselves :)

What I really don't hope, is that the films are shown. The reason I'm really not being modest about this award (although I *did* do fuck-all, being the camera person for a film which was mostly a sit-down interview and still photo shots, with a few special effects thrown in) is that the film was incredibly difficult to make, emotionally. I don't know if it affected the others the same way it did me. But I know that that evening, after Morna, Eri and I talked to Setsuko Nakamura about her experience in Hiroshima, I broke down when I got home. And I couldn't even begin to open my mouth to talk about it with Dave or MC, because they couldn't possibly *begin* to understand how traumatic it was, or how fresh the wound was.

You read about it in books, you watch movies and specials about it on TV, you hear about nuclear testing, nuclear weapons, stockpiles, and all the words start to mesh together and you THINK you know what you're talking about and then you realize, or at least I realize, that I have no idea what these bombs *mean*, what they represent, why they have to exist in the first place. There are so many things that I just hate about the world right now.

I've tried to block all that nuclear stuff out, to just lump it in with the other bitterness-inducing mess in the back of my mind, near the base of my tongue (I still taste it sometimes), but watching that film brings it back in full colour.

What's funny about the film is that I narrate it. Well, that's not funny in and of itself, but I keep forgetting that my voice is on it. And whenever I speak, it makes me jump. At the end of year showing last summer, everyone around me giggled when, after the first two lines of text I suddenly exclaimed "Hey, wait a second! That's me!" Geez, I'm so glad I'm an individual and no doubt the only person on earth who would take that long to recognize her own voice, before she even remembers having recorded it herself.

Blah. I'm babbling and bored and a lot of people reading this have heard this out of my mouth at one time or another (when do I ever shut up?). Well, now, I guess.


Posted by hKath at 4:44 PM ()

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11.12.00-
You can read another entry right HERE.

We are now entering week 3 of strikedom. I think I have forgotten all I know. I don't even know the days of the week anymore. And I don't care! I pray to the god of hostility every night that he/she not take my precious strike away. I know it's going to be hell when we get back to classes (especially for Economics, which I still have to catch up on). But judging by the turn in the weather, the strikers are probably going to cede soon. It's a lot easier to let go of your convictions when you're frozen and cranky.

MC left today. Whatever. I think she's making a mistake. I think she had lots of other options. I think she misses her mom a little too much. It doesn't matter what I think. So whatever. Now that she's gone, all I have to film is empty space.

Well, and I got to film the naked painted people today. That was fun. We had some nice talks. There was one girl, Caroline, who was really cute but very, very quiet. She was very, very straight though, so I just could not go there after I started talking to her. I think it all went really well, and I can't believe how freakin' much people have to say! I even had some stuff to say! At one point, while everyone was talking about bodies and periods and sexual identity, I whispered to my friend Sam: "Jesus, we're making the Vagina Monologues over here!" That's what it felt like. I really think it's going to be a meaningful piece, and I keep thinking of people that it should be sent to. I keep thinking of people that need to see it. Important people, you know? Yeah, I'm a really bad take-charge girl when it's MY project. Now that it's someone else's, I'm a total control freak. Figure that one out!

I'm kind of tired, and have to work tomorrow, but I really don't want to go to bed right now. I want to go watch my cheesy slasher movie (Bloody Murder! Makes me think of a Martina song everytime I hear the title) instead. So sue me. Of course, this house not really being my home anymore since MC left, it probably means that I'll lie awake sleepless all night afterwards, scared and alone, but oh well, I'll get more thinking done that way. I fall asleep too easily these days anyway. Plus, it's laundry time! Bring on the gore!

Posted by hKath at 4:43 PM ()

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11.12.00-
I really wish MC could let this shit go. I love that other people don't use names on their sites, I really do. It speaks volumes. Not about them... I respect their right to privacy and all that. I think it speaks volumes about me that I want to use names, their names. If I want to say something to someone, I'll say it directly, not sit around going "someone... some people... a friend..." whatever. It's MC. And apparently she doesn't know anything about me. It's certainly too bad, isn't it?

"i'm going to miss people, that part i do feel. i know at least one person thinks i'm a bitch for leaving, and reads all kinds of shit into my departure. apparently i'm wasting energy trying to convince her she has it all wrong. hopefully she'll understand eventually, and then she can write a song about that. "

Which means: A) Someone (oh, sorry, MC) spent her last few precious moments at Hill Haus snooping through my notebooks. B) She completely missed the point of what she read there. Which hurts a lot more than A. She's never received any messages I meant her to get from my poetry. It probably says a lot about my poetry more than anything else. Maybe I should just give up on the junk altogether. Oh, and C) That all through the last month, during which MC and I got along exceptionally well, she must have still thought that I was carrying some kind of grudge against her and that I was pissed off at her under my "exterior". Funny that. It's this kind of thing that pisses me off, not that she's moving away.

If MC was on her site calling me a bitch and all that, it would feel a lot better. It would be putting me on her level. But somehow she writes as though she knows something more than I do, as if she's convinced that there's no possible way that I could understand and so she's given up hope or something. I'm like this little tyke that tags along and that she pats on the head. "Someday, sweetie, when you're ready, you'll understand." Well, I'm sorry I project the image of being beyond any hope of change or of rational thought. I guess that's just my bad, as Eggbot would say.

And about wasting your energy on changing my perception. What energy? Where? I didn't see no energy. It must have passed me by when I wasn't looking. Of course, that was part of the problem, wasn't it? The absence of energy, of ever *doing* anything? I really hope that changes for you, sweetie, that by changing your geographical location, you're able to somehow coerce your psyche into thinking it is changed as well. It doesn't usually work that way or anything, but as we all know, the mind is a mysterious thing.

And yes, MC, even though you might not believe me, there are many many things you don't know about me, and they are things which you would never suspect, so next time you want to write about how you think I feel, just don't. I try not to assume what other people think, so I just write about how I feel instead. It might seem self-centered, but at least it's not apt to be wrong. That's what the song you read was about. How I feel. Not about how much of a bitch I think you are. It was about me, and how I know I'll feel lonely but I'll survive, and how much I hope I meet new friends, and what I thought our relationship was like, and how crazy I am. It had nothing to do with judging you. So don't you counter-attack and judge me back, please.

Thank you. Back to your regularly scheduled drivel.

Posted by hKath at 4:43 PM ()

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11.15.00-
Mmmmm... I'm still in my little happy Dan Bern world. The concert last night was the closest I've come to going back to being the crazy dancing lunatic that used to be spotted at Fruvous shows across the country. I had a lot of fun, and I wish my mom had been there, because Dan played her song third in his set :)

There's this girl. MC and I saw her outside the Sarah Harmer concert that we couldn't get into last month. She's turning into quite a folkie, because she was back last night. She looks incredibly familiar, but I keep trying to convince myself it's just because she fits a certain "type" of woman that I really like. I have a big crush on her. I couldn't stop looking at her all night. What a happy, old feeling that is. That alone gives me lots and lots of hope for my emotional future.

AJ paid me the best compliment today!! I was telling him how much I hate pizza, except frozen pizza. I like the cardboardy taste and texture of frozen pizza. Yesterday I was pontificating about my love of traffic jams, and some other strange things probably came out of my mouth too. And today AJ just snapped. He said I was one of the weirdest people he's ever met! I was so happy to be labeled as weird. It's something I've always suspected but never really confirmed. Thank you!

I have to tell y'all about this, because if you're ever in the same situation, it will be time to realize that you are in a dysfunctional relationship. MC hasn't called me. Which would be just fine, except she distinctly told Fiona to give me the message that she was going to call me the night she moved. I thought, OK, fine, she'll call me. And then she didn't call. I wondered if she was too tired.

Now it's Wednesday. It's been five days. And I know what's going on. It's annoying as all hell to realize. See, I don't want to call her, because that will be giving her what she expects: I think she expects me to be fairly actively upset about her leaving, so she expects me to be the first to call. And now that it's been five days, she might be quite pissed off at me because I haven't called her yet. In fact, she might think that I'm angry at her and giving her the silent treatment. Which is just incredibly fucking hilarious, when you think about it (I haven't done that "I'm not speaking to you" thing since probably sixth grade - and it got me accused of being a baby even back THEN). Nonetheless, I'm fairly sure she's assuming that I'm mad at her.

And given the fact that none of this matters at all in the normal world where not everyone dissects all of their actions to a minute degree (yes, I am aware that not everyone plans out their phone calling techniques eight moves in advance... and I don't actually do that, I'm a very spur of the moment person, actually, and actually that's why I'm just gonna shake my head and say what the hell), I'm just going to call her. I mean, what the fuck are we supposed to do? Let our suppositions and judgements run our damn lives? I don't care if I think you think I'm angry at you, and that in turn makes you angry at me. The point is that I'm not angry at you, so where did all that other shit come from? Where do all the fuzzy logic and implications fit in? They don't really. There's no space for them, and if you let them in then you have this kind of goddamn dysfunctional relationship.

I don't think ahead anymore. I have to physically hold myself back from doing things I used to only fantasize about doing. I'm so happy to be alive right now.

I said I want to disrupt things for a living and careened around a lot. And somehow, that led to both AJ and Jian simultaneously deciding that I was going to call and/or email Michael Moore and ask him for a job. Well, I'm not about to just contact the guy out of the blue. But seeing as how he is my hero, and seeing as how I haven't heard much about him since the new TV Nation show he did a tiny run of a few years ago, I'm going to do a little research first, see what he's doing right now. Then I'll see what I can do. Hey, I could be the next Janeane Garofalo ;)

Posted by hKath at 4:43 PM ()

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11.16.00-
I'm at York for the first time in a while. Domenic finished a rough cut of my short video. It's really beautiful and a lot better than I thought it ever would be. I played around with Avid this morning and figured out how to do slow motion effects... it's going to be even better very soon.

I talked to MC last night. She apologized for not calling earlier. She didn't tell me much about what she's been doing, and since I can't really imagine what she's doing, in my mind she is standing around in a large grey void . Oh dear. I just had a flashback. My cousin had a story-writing computer game when she was really little that created sentences from subjects, actions and locations. One of those locations was "the middle of nowhere", and that's what I am imagining now, with MC as the little character just kind of floating there, pinned off her feet in the middle of nowhere.

In other news, the bastards at Mandarin Chinese Buffet were undeniably uncooperative when I went to them for help earlier today. I left a clipboard there last Wednesday. It's only been a week, and what's more, I called to check up on it and specifically told them to hang on to it, as I couldn't come to pick it up right away. So what did they do? They gave it to the Salvation Army. What the hell is the Salvation Fucking Army going to do with a broken down clipboard full of my freakin' MAIL and course schedules and class notes... and a KODAK card worth 20% off on up to $3000 worth of film that I hadn't even REGISTERED yet??? Those assholes have not seen the last of my little blue-haired self, let me tell you. I am heading back there tonight after I leave here. Hopefully, the people I spoke to earlier will have finished their shifts and I'll be able to speak to a manager or someone who cares that they just gave away my whole damn life to some perfect stranger. My address and phone number are all over that fucking thing. Yet they couldn't, you know, call me or anything. No, that would be too much effort. It certainly felt that way today, when after an initial half-hearted look around, they just suddenly stopped paying attention to me altogether. Fucking fuck fuck fuck. Fuck. My memory is going to be the death of me.

Posted by hKath at 4:42 PM ()

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11.21.00-
Lord, Tripod's web interface formatting wreaks havoc with my dinky little dependable notepad over here. Anyway, sorry it's been a while since I updated. My parents were over for the weekend, which means I had a distinct lack of inspiration, or maybe I was just busy. They brought a little visitor with them: a little 5 and a half month old black cat. It took me FOREVER to name him! I went through about twenty different names. Which is unusual for me. I usually just name a pet or character and then deal with the 'fitting into' the name later.

The biggest contenders were Elliott, Jeffrey, Fudge, Kaiser Sose, Cosmo, Wonderbread (snort), Sushi and Frankie. I ended up settling on Cosmo because he really is so black it's like empty space, and also because it was the amalgamation of two other names I liked: Cosby (SO eighties) and Mo. It fits him. He likes it, I think. He has a vet's appointment tomorrow.

Meanwhile, I've gotten into the designing business. I mostly wanted to make this t-shirt so that I could wear it, but I also wouldn't mind seeing if I can make a little business out of it. So right now there's only one t-shirt at www.cafepress.com/crazies, but soon (I mean very soon) there will be more. Just humour me and pretend you're gonna buy them, K? ;) Oh, and do you think that I should make the same design available on a long-sleeved white t-shirt too?

I used the crazies profile because it was there, and because I like the word crazies, and because I was the one who registered it, anyway. If MC gets upset, I'll move it or something :)

I met this really nice guy from Arkansas last night. I did something I hadn't done in a long time, which is download the list of channels and just surf. I think I was looking for a Bible group to harass or something (kidding! that would be dangerous!) and I stumbled upon this one dude just sitting in an Ani Difranco channel by himself, so I went and talked to him. He's gay and in Arkansas. I've never been to Arkansas, but I had the impression that that was one of those places where they beat you to death if you're gay. *shrug* Shows how little respect I have for those states I haven't explored. Maybe Arkansas has a great gay sub-culture. Who knows? Well, gay men in Arkansas, supposedly.

We didn't get to shoot the naked men this weekend, by the way. Instead, Bryn, the director, got violently ill. I should be calling up to check on her... you know, like a regular human, but I really don't want to have anything to do with school right now. Sad, isn't it? It's been a week since the Dan Bern concert. A week since I last saw my crush, too. Which is probably a good reason to head out to see this Dan Bryk person tonight that Mikey Wood is so adamant about. You never know, maybe she'll be there. Even better: maybe she'll be there ALONE. *sigh* Oh, the plight of the apathetic and horny.

I'm5 6666666666666687. Gah, kitten on the keyboard. He really likes some serious attention. I'm thinking I'm going to have my head shaved today. If Fiona wants to go to Dan Bryk, and there's no doubt I'm going out tonight, then I'll do it in a few hours. I just have to make sure I'm doing something before I leave the house to get shorn.

Posted by hKath at 4:41 PM ()

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11.22.00-
I took Cosmo to the vet today. He didn't enjoy it at all. He freaked out totally and started trying to claw his way out of his pet carrier frantically. I thought he wasn't going to be happy ever again, or at least that he was going to hold a humoungous grudge for the rest of the day, but as soon as we got back in the house he was my friend again. Good for him. Nice forgiving nature, that one.

I can't seem to stop making shirts. Yesterday, I was telling Fiona about this telephone survey person. When I told her one of my hobbies was making music, she asked "Professionally?". Disregarding the contradiction (it wouldn't be a hobby if I did it for a living, now would it?), I just said "No, I just play for myself." So she concluded: "Oh, so you play semi-professionally." I tell you, there was no way of convincing her that I wasn't a professional.

So Fiona and I started bouncing the idea around. Yeah, I'm my biggest fan. I allow myself to record my shows as long as I don't trade them for profit with myself. And on and on and on. A shirt spawned out of it. It's here, but if you want to see the detail on the back, you'd better head here instead, cause they don't show you the full size image at cafepress.

It's funny, you know. I'm very bored right now, but I'm really glad that I have the luxury to be bored. I keep wishing that everything would slow down so that I'd have more time to just sit here and think "Gee, I'm bored." I think that would be a great luxury. That's why I want to be a billionaire when I grow up ;)

I returned movies last night at four AM. It was quite an experience (and fucking COLD! especially now that I have no hair...). No one was out on the street except for the one guy refilling the paper boxes for the Toronto Star. Driving, there were only 2 cabs, and a few City of Toronto trucks which whizzed by at warp speed. The emptiness was eerie.

Yes, I think you heard me right. I am the newly shorn messiah. I did not wait for warmer weather, I did not see the point. I still don't. Get it out. You are allowed ONE "Aren't you cold?" each. No more. Got it? I really feel good about having done it. I'm proud that I can say I know what I look like without hair. I like it. Way to go me, that's what I say.

It's funny, you know. The more I get to know various people, the more obvious it is that we all fit into two categories. I'd say "fake" and "real" but that's not exactly what I mean. "Dishonest" and "honest", either. All I know is, I know people from both camps, and I'm getting better at distinguishing between them, spotting them early. OK, so some people (including one I live with) are very good at hiding the fact that they are in fact "pretenders". But it all comes out in the wash eventually. And well, YKWIS. If for some reason you feel that you have to be dishonest with me, or pretend that you enjoy my company when you actually don't, or lie to me when the getting gets good because you think I'm not cool enough for whatever lies beyond the horizon, then I really don't think you deserve to play with the adults. And yes, we play. It's what we all do. And you know what? When I'm with these "fakes", it doesn't feel like playing anymore. That's how you know that this person isn't really a friend of yours at all.

I'd just like to say thank you to my gang of real friends out there. Hopefully you're all secure enough to know exactly who you are. I love you all.

Posted by hKath at 4:41 PM ()

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11.24.00-
I have a Angie! I do, I do! She's spending the weekend, and it's lovely, even though I have to work weird hours today. I had this odd dream that I showed up at a job I hadn't been to for a while (I'm not sure what it was, but it involved a new uniform and selling coffee) and I'd forgotten everything: I'd forgotten how to do my job, because it had been so long. I think I should work more. This is distressing.

I got five bucks from Fiona on a bet! She bet me that Jian wouldn't recognize me when he saw me. The actual literal terms of the bet were sort of fuzzy, but she could not deny that he saw the girl before the lack of hair (although he did seem somewhat surprised). Woohoo, free drink!

Wow, we got to see a lot of familiar faces last night. And the people I was with (i.e. Angie and Drea - Fiona had to leave :() seemed to be of the same opinion as I am about clubs and concerts: it's not actually over until everyone ELSE is gone. I have a lot of trouble leaving when there's still a crowd. In all honesty, I feel I need the closure of an empty room before I feel I can depart with the knowledge that I haven't missed anything.

So, we did that, Angie singing about hula hoops in her Chipmunk voice the whole while (*I've created a monster!*). I got to rib Cal a little about that cute little diary he's been writing on his site (ok, so it's been a while) and call everyone a wimp (sorry, Fiona) for being so damn sensitive to smoke. It was strange. Hanging around after a show surrounded by Jude and Cal and Jian and members of Hennessey and Kevin Fox; felt like we'd just been watching the absolutely wrong thing. Seeing Cal set up the stage was pretty spooky as well.

Jian says I'm mean, and I'm not allowed to come to the Andy Stochansky concert. I doubt he was actually pissed off about the little harrassing email I sent him, but still he started in about how I don't even like him anyway, etc. I assured him that I do, indeed, like him just fine, but I think I'm still not allowed to go to the Andy show. Even though I did get a head scritch from him as he was leaving ("I'll never wash my hair again!!!!). Maybe I'll send another sarcastic-ass email about the Andy concert. ;)

Posted by hKath at 4:40 PM ()

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11.28.00-
I got bitten by the redesign bug again. I don't like the new look, though, so I don't know exactly why I did it. Not that I liked the old look more... *shrug*

I've been holeing up in my room the past 2 days. I really need to do something other than sit at this computer. I need to go somewhere. Even just watch TV. Hell, I got them to reconnect my cable and I never watch it. I took a TV survey over the phone the other day, and the results were hilarious. Turns out I'd only watched 2 hours of TV in the last month that was, you know, actual shows. And one of them I was forced to watch (it was Buffy). Other than that, no TV. I've basically been surviving on corn chips and microwaveable meals, because I hate being downstairs at the same time as Brandy, so between 7-11PM, it's impossible for me to leave this room. I feel like a little mouse in the attic. Today, Cosmo is staying with me. He's been sleeping on the bed since I got up five hours ago, and right now his lower half is about to fall off of it.

I fell asleep to a Woody Allen movie last night. I've been sleeping altogether too much considering how much I'm able to do in a day and how little I actually do. I've got a song. It's not bad. It's half there, or maybe a third there, and I just need a little tiny bit of a push to finish it.

I feel disconnected from everyone except myself. I'm very connected to me right now, and I'm thankful for that. Maybe Fiona would like to come over tonight and ressucitate me, bring me back to the human race. That might be nice. I will ask her.

When I say I'm aware of myself and disconnected from others, it doesn't mean I'm unhappy. That's something which is strange to me. I feel a lot simpler, and a lot happier, than usual. Probably because I'm suddenly so low-maintenance. Hell, I just realized I could have spent all day staring out the window waiting for it to get dark, and I'd probably feel about the same way right now. It's such a calm state of mind. But... I'm ready for it to stop. I'm not ready for the strike to stop (I don't think anyone is) but I'm ready for a raised level of activity for me. I feel... almost healed, which is strange for a girl who never really thought she was wounded at all.

Posted by hKath at 4:40 PM ()

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11.29.00-
It's barely the 29th. I'm listening to "The Glory of Gershwin", a Larry Adler tribute album. Larry Adler is an amazing harmonica player. The reason I'm listening to this album (for the first time since I claimed it in the big move of '99) is that I just watched Jeffrey with Fiona. And it got me thinking. I just started, you know, going on and on with my thoughts. I really like that I can do that now. I think it's very propice to creativity.

And what I realized was this. What if I'd seen Jeffrey when it first came out. I mean, I remember seeing Roger Ebert talk about it when it was first in the theatres. The clip they showed was Steven Weber and Patrick Stewart shopping for clothes. And I thought, gee, maybe I should see that. But for some reason I got the impression that it was all about Patrick Stewart (I blame Ebert), and I didn't know if I wanted to invest 2 hours to watch the star of The Next Generation.

In retrospect, it was probably a good thing. Now, I can watch the movie and I guess I understand a lot of it, and I've discovered a lot about myself in the 5 years since the thing came out. It's lucky I didn't see it then, when I was fifteen. Because that's the year that I became aware that I might be different. And well, since I went to a school which was incredibly biased, different in a wrong way. At the same time, I was incredibly grateful that I was able to have these intense feelings about people, any people (although for about a year and a half or so, I was sure I was a complete lesbian: I had no feelings at all about males for quite a while), but I was also ashamed that I was having these feelings, and having to hide them because of who I was dealing with, namely nuns who were incredibly strict, and I know I'll sound delusional, but many of them held personal grudges against me.

It was your typical Catholic schoolgirl reaction, I guess. I was also incredibly upset and sort of ashamed that they suspected that I *was*, indeed, "aux filles", as we said back then. It was insulting that they asked me about it. It wasn't any of their business, and even if it had been, I was being taught by various media that there was nothing wrong with being homosexual. So why that look on all their faces when they confronted me about it? So... I denied. A lot. It was disturbing. After a few months, it died down, but it made my last year of high school an uncomfortable one.

Yeah, so I join a les/bi webring (with only 2 sites on it so far) and I decide to spill my guts ;) Sue me.

After I left high school, I mean the summer right after, there was an incident with a man that completely changed my outlook on my sexual orientation. It was someone I was probably cosmically fated to meet, and unfortunately, the timing of the thing was all wrong. I wrote one of my favourite poems about it. I suppose I could post it, but that would take a lot of courage. Hm. I'll think about it. (I did, eventually post it. Just keep in mind that it was a long time ago, creatively, for me.)

Anyway, that's also about the time I discovered Moxy Fruvous, and I was very soon to make quite a few friends for whom sexual orientation was nothing short of irrelevant. I began seeing myself as normal, something I'd never really considered myself to be before. Also, and this is something I've mentioned to a few friends recently, I felt no need to simply announce that I was bisexual. I didn't see the need to do that, when all I had to do was live my life and say what was on my mind, and well, they'd figure that out for themselves. I'm not technically anything but myself, after all.

Which brings me back. What if I had seen Jeffrey when it first came out? I remember being very interested by it. One of two things would have happened. The first is nothing. The second is that it might have provoked a lot of self-loathing. I would have hated the movie for making me deal with an issue I simply was not ready to deal with. Because I wasn't, then. And well, the nuns and my parents did force me to deal with it in a somewhat painful way. But see, it's easier to forgive a person than a movie. Movies aren't variable. They aren't flexible. I wonder if I'm making any sense at all.

Just now, as I was heading into the grocery store to buy lightbulbs at midnight, I had a thought and almost spoke it aloud only to find out its exact words had been spoken, or rather sung before. And I swear, it didn't come to me from a song, but from deep inside. Here it was: "My life may not be perfect, but it's never been lived before."

Tell me again why I love Ani?

Posted by hKath at 4:39 PM ()

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11.30.00-
Wow, I was just thinking "I should write. I haven't written anything in quite a while." Then I opened this up and realized my last entry was YESTERDAY. Well, technically yesterday. Biologically, it was more like three days ago.

I'm weird. People keep telling me that, and I keep insisting that they tell me that (which is probably more frustrating to me than it is to them). But it's true. A few days ago, I got up from my computer, went downstairs. I think it was to brush my teeth, because I was looking at myself in the bathroom mirror at the time. And then I heard this noise. And because it was around 3AM, it couldn't have been my roommates. And it sounded like my chair upstairs, moving. And my first thought was: "Gee, I must be lagged!"

Not weird. Crazy. Like when the cable went out. We only got two channels, badly, and one of the problems we had was this constant double image. I remember watching the news and seeing a skyline of Toronto, and just kind of, you know, aimlessly letting my brain soak in information. I don't remember what the new report was about. But I do remember, a few hours later, in the car driving downtown, I saw the skyline of Toronto, live, and I was looking for the other CN Tower. I felt so confused. And it took me about three or four seconds to realize there is only one.

There are many other examples. Plus, I'm actually kind of enjoying being rated a 1.1 on Am I Hot Or Not right now. It's empowering. Probably because the people I consider 1's are the ones who are downright scary, so, you know, at least I have that. Being scary might just be better than being pretty. RAWR! BUY ME A DRINK!!!! It works for me, I think.

Wow. And Adam just showed me something spectacular that I've decided to share with as many people as possible. Here it is: http://antwrp.gsfc.nasa.gov/apod/image/0011/earthlights_dmsp_big.jpg . Go there. And promise yourself you'll look at it for more than three minutes. Because it's not just pretty... it's... I don't know, it's more. It's everything. Everything going on at once in one big blur, right there on your computer monitor. And it's just so precious. So incredibly precious and you don't think about it often, but still it's there. I'm going to go here and look often. It's very peaceful.

In other news, I got this flyer today and cracked up! At first I thought it was from those Baptists in Louisiana, and I tried to figure out how they'd found me, but it turned out to be the least inoffensive of all the namesakes.

It's sad that I don't have very much to write. I will try to come up with something so that I can post it after midnight and say it's December first ;)

Posted by hKath at 4:38 PM ()

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12.02.00-
Cosmo has ringworm. I'm not sure exactly what that is (although I once knew, I'm sure). All I know is that it's some sort of worm, most likely in ring shape. And it's probably gross (although not as gross as the general population thinks a fried chicken head is, apparently). So now I have to feed him this disgusting powder that I mix into canned cat food. The only problem is, well, there is a fairly large difference in the amount of cat food that it takes to adequately mix in the medicine, and the amount of cat food that my cat will injest. And well, the former is larger than the latter. Probably has something to do with the small creature living in his digestive system and devouring him from the inside out. Who knows??

Cosby's medecine cost me another fifty bucks, on top of the seventy I had to shell out just to have him examined (and who knows how much they'll charge me to have his balls snipped off??), so I was in a total funk when I got to work. I called my parents and left this really vague, nutty, distressed message about the cat, and somehow managed to mention that I'm seeing The Vagina Monologues on Tuesday, too. They interpreted it as "the cat is a money pit", and told me they were sending me some money when I called to apologize about the ditzy message. I did not protest. The cat IS a money pit. But a fuzzy one.

I'm listening to Little Plastic Castle, and every song just makes me go "Oh, yeah!" and then 2 seconds later I totally melt.

So. Vagina Monologues. Opening night. Orchestra seats. Cheaper than cheap. I have no idea how Fiona and I scored that one, but it's got me all excited.

This is going to be a pretty abordable week. If nothing else, Jeff from work is transfering out after Sunday. He's a pretty inhuman creature, but I've been able to stand him, until now. Even when we've fought (which, believe me, has happened - loudly, in front of the customers, no less), I've been able to stand being in the same room as him. But he said something to Tanya today that makes me think I won't be able to work that last shift with him. I just... hate backtalk. I hate when people think something about you and don't say it to your face, but feel the need to discuss it with others. It's been against my policy for a while.

So Jeff took Tanya aside today (and actually, I feel kind of good about this), and asked her to remind me that *he's* the manager (um, supervisor; DIFFERENCE!), and I'm *just* a CSR, and that I should do what he tells me to do no questions asked. Because, apparently, I ignore his orders. He used those exact words. "Manager", "just", "no questions asked" and "orders". As if him having more free time than I do (hence his getting promoted earlier) is a reason for me to bow to his every judgement. Well, Jeff, I'm so sorry that I question your boneheaded ideas. I'm also very sorry that half the time your ideas get you in trouble with Kevin, who is *the manager* of the store, not you. I'm sorry that your increased sense of initiative and your crushing drive to be superior to everyone else cause you to sometimes make decisions which are not yours to make. By sometimes, of course, I mean virtually every shift you work.

*sigh* If only life were like the movies, where all the bad men get what they deserve (well, most do, some just kind of run off) and all the good girls get their own houses and quirky friends and patio umbrellas to drink chocolate milk under. Life would be much better.

Posted by hKath at 4:38 PM ()

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12.02.00-
It will be mine. Oh, yes, it will be mine.
It's beautiful. Girly. Tacky. It comes in pink, yellow or blue. It probably sounds like a rusty tin can landing on a cat with fleas. And I want it so much. Man, would I take good care of that thang.



This next part is meant to be an apology. No matter how pissed off at me you get reading the beginning of it, PLEASE read it till the end.

I was just thinking about updating my friends page, so I opened up IRC to take a look at my logs to see if I could find some Am I Hot URLs so that I could put up pictures. I started reading logs. What I didn't realize was that when MC used my computer, her logs got put in here too. And I mean, I wasn't LOOKING to get hurt (I might do that occasionally, but not this time - this time I was just looking for pictures of my friends) but I stumbled upon this conversation to which I had two reactions. The first was, you know, regular gut instinct. I felt hurt, mostly because it was all about how much she hated living with me and how she didn't even know why she was my friend anymore (I don't want to say too much about someone else's private conversation - I already feel like I accidentally violated her privacy, and I'm so sorry, but this is something that I'm both hurt and amazed about, and I really want to just write it out. I'm sure a lot of you have had conversations with her on the same topic, and I know she's written about it in her journal, so I don't mind just posting the general lines (just what's above) of what I happened to read here.)

So my first reaction was to feel very hurt by what I was reading. But my second was more to analyze the whole thing critically. It's really amazing how the same story told two different ways can really be that different from itself at the end of the day. The bit I read was her telling a story about something I said to her, and completely omitting the very valid reason why I said it to her (which pertained more to practicality than to antagonism, honestly - sorry I'm being so vague; I promised I wouldn't do that, but this is different). Which doesn't mean she was being crooked: she probably didn't know that that was what was important for me, although to me it was very obvious at the time.

I probably do it too, maybe even more, who knows. We all need to communicate just so much more. That's another thing too. I felt so left out of the loop, MC, when you made all your decisions and told me about them days, weeks later, as a by the way, sort of off the cuff, almost to provoke a reaction. You kept saying you weren't keeping anything from me. Now I know that you were intentionally keeping away a lot of the thoughts that you thought would anger me. And well, I'm sorry to say, but at the time, it was the idea that you were doing that that *was* angering me.

I'm sorry that we didn't communicate better. I'm not putting the blame on you. A lot of the time, I can't speak to save my life, and unfortunately for you, when I'm crabby and curt, you seem to interpret it as being aimed somewhat at you, instead of at the world (oh, cursed world which spawned such a miserable creature as I!). I'm sorry that I can't make my intentions clearer to you. I never ever meant to hurt you in any way. I started out in this friendship trying to protect you from everything bad that I saw, everything that I thought could even possibly hurt you. I tried to keep it all away. Years later, I wisened up and realized that that was never going to be possible, that no one has that superpower (although parents manage to keep that façade up longer than us regular people).

So then there was another tactic. Tough love, I think it's called. How can I help you get stronger faster? How can I help you become untouchable? I guess the answer was: be not the protector, but the messenger of moderate badness. Instead of keeping the bad stuff away, I tried to help you face it. Unfortunately, this meant I had to be the bad guy a lot of the time. "Don't you think you should..." became a regular part of my vocabulary. I played devil's advocate, always bringing up the less pleasant side of things. Of course, the financial aspect of living together didn't help things along, because along with "trying to help" (wasn't any help, I know), I was personally involved, and though I really really tried to keep those things separate, some of the time I really did feel concerned personally, and even more of the time, you thought I did.

I am a control freak. I am so sorry. I do not want to rule your life. You can do what you want. I'm going to go away now. I am way too harmful.


Posted by hKath at 4:37 PM ()

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12.04.00-
I am losing touch with school even more than I have been in the past few months this week. I'm not very bothered by it, however, because the weeks following the end of the strike have finally been sort of sketched out by York University. I know what's going to happen when we go back after Christmas break, so I feel a lot better about how little I've been doing. I really do support the strikers, and I feel bad every time I cross the picket lines to do work, but sometimes it has to be done.

I have discovered something incredibly time-consuming. It's called Everything, and it's sort of taken over my life. I always thought the hitchhiker's guide to the galaxy seemed like a good, and feasible idea. And then someone just said "Here you go," and made this. I've been noding (writing) since last night, and I think, or rather hope that I've been making some pretty interesting observations on there. I think everyone should get on everything. It is truly a universal, if slightly brainy, pleasure.

Well, I notice I haven't brought up my feelings yet. Hm. My roomie called today. He left a message about some people coming over and using his room while he's away. They're people I don't like, and I'm not very happy about the fact that they're even coming to my city, let alone to my house. I have already bet someone twenty dollars that they come home completely trashed every night they stay.

MC is right. There should be a rule: you're allowed to have anyone you want over, as long as you are there as well. It's ridiculous to ask me (the other 2 roomies have no idea who these people are or what Fruheads are, for that matter) to basically play hostess to them, while he takes no responsibility whatsoever over the situation. And, well, because I have never really liked these girls (I always seem to see them trashed and annoying and clingy - if they have a nicer side, maybe while sober, I will be the first one to admit that I'm wrong), I will in fact *not* be playing hostess for them. I'm sorry. I have better things to do with my time than tout other people's friends around.

Obviously, if they are coming next weekend, it is to go to the same concert I'm going to. And I'm sorry to sound like an elitist fuck, but I like going to concerts in Toronto, because it's always all the same people, and 99% of the time, there are no people like that around. If someone comes from far away, it's usually a friend of *mine*, and they've come to see me and hang out, not drool over one or two people and alienate everyone else. Fuck, I hate groupies.

Now, the outsider's reaction to that statement, of course, is "Aren't YOU a groupie? Don't YOU follow a band around?"

Yes, I did follow a band around. The difference between me and a groupie seemed incredibly hard to find at one point in my band-following career, when all of our roles were blurry and I was friends with virtually *everyone*. A common definition of 'groupie' is someone who has had or tries to have sex with one or more of the band members. OK, so I'm pretty sure I haven't had sex with any of the band members :) Although, you know, there are situations where I would not *refuse* sex, were it offered to me. Of course, this applies to everyone, not just band members, so it doesn't really count at all, and it just means that if you know the right buttons to push, I'm easy as an EZBake oven.

I'm not really sure what I'm saying, and whether it's about me, or groupies. But I think it's kind of funny!

So, these people, that are coming. I know at least one of them is completely centered on her relationship with one band member in particular, and it's something I *really* don't want to have to deal with that closely. I mean, I can deal with it from a distance, that's fine, it's even a little entertaining at times. But in my own home, it's going to be either very nauseating or a giant headache. Either way, I'd love to ignore it altogether, but I won't be able to, which is what is pissing me off. Plus, I have a friend coming over that weekend, which should come first seeing as how, you know, I'm at least *present* at the Haus this weekend.

Some people need to get a clue. It's so surprising how someone can funtion in the world, hold down a job, even one where they have to interact with thousands of different people, and still have such a rough idea of boundary or tact or reality. Reality. I know it doesn't exist in this house. It hurts.

Posted by hKath at 4:36 PM ()

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12.06.00-
I had a yummy, nutritious breakfast and now I feel sick. I swear, I can't win. I haven't really been eating that much these days. I've been spending most of my days in front of the computer, so I haven't been really needing the calories, and I haven't been hungry. So today I decided I was going to eat some of that yogurt that was in the fridge waiting for me. Mmm, plain yogurt. I usually like it, but this time it kind of shocked my tastebuds, so I added some honey. It was the most nutritious thing I could ever possibly eat. It was delicious, a great source of energy, you know, all that body cleansing stuff, prevents yeast infections, et cetera, et cetera. Now I want to puke.

I want McDonald's instead. What is it with this world, that my human body has been nurtured into accepting the synthetic yet popular food pellets and rejecting the all-natural but less advertised ones?

There is a great panic surrounding frucon at the moment. I don't know how this gets dealt with every year, but the frucon always manages to be pulled off nicely by the organizers. It's a thankless job, promise. I mean, how many of the attendees these days even know who we are, let alone what we do for this thing?

Anyway, despite above-mentioned great panic, I am actually kind of grateful that I'm actually going out and doing something for once. Making calls. Meeting people. Trodding around town for a purpose. Makes me feel good. I did say, after last year, that I wanted to do this for a living. I don't think I'd like organizing a convention around something that I wasn't personally involved with, but I wish I could get paid for organizing frucon. Because, despite all the bickering and catastrophes and risks we take, it is by far the most rewarding job I've had, ever.

Enough about frucon. I'll probably get a beating from co-members who don't want me to talk about con business outside of meetings. Ouch. Yup.

Fiona and I saw the Vagina Monologues last night, with Gloria Reuben as the "floating cast member". She blew me away with her last bit, but the truly shiny star of the evening was probably the flamboyant Sherri Parker Lee. Lemme tell you, that girl can scream. It was quite an enriching experience, altogether, and I want to see it again with another cast member, just to see how much it changes from one show to another (I bet it changes a lot).

Of course, it was yet another testament to those cold Toronto audiences. There was not a soul shouting "CUNT!" when they were urged to. Oh, come on, it might be the only chance you'll have in your entire life to yell "CUNT!" while in your best Sunday clothes, sitting next to your husband and daughter. Do it!

What I mostly learned from the experience was that I have surprisingly few psychological complexes about my private parts. I do not, for example, imagine furniture there. I don't know where that came from exactly, or how many women do this. Is this common?? Anyhow, I was quite surprised at how, you know, in touch I felt compared to the stuff I saw and heard on stage. I was glad.

Plus, I'm really glad I got the image of Gloria Reuben completely losing it while trying to say "somewhere between fish and lilacs". That was worth the admission price right there. :D

Posted by hKath at 4:36 PM ()

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12.08.00-
I miss Topon!!!

It all started when Fiona brought up her elementary school crush. We had a very girly night, talking about crushes and reading horoscopes and articles in Cosmo about "How to get the most popular guy in a room to go out with you" (example of article: "You are standing next to the keg (strike ONE!) at a party, when he walks in, looking like a picture out of an Abercrombie and Fitch catalogue (strike TWO!)...", etc) and ended up talking about our old crushes. I remembered this guy I'd totally forgotten: Oscar. Another brown guy who I was totally infatuated with when I was about eleven.

Now, I confess. I did not do this on purpose, but it seems I have a thing for brown guys (and loud little girls, but that's not the point of this entry). If you only count the very brown ones, that makes 4 in my lifetime that I've pined after, all of them for a year or more. If you count all men who are a bit darker than caucasian, it gets weird. The length of time drops significantly, for one. But there may have been up to 3 or 4 of those as well, I'm not sure.

So anyway, the talking reminded me of Oscar, who was twelve and from El Salvador and had a mohawk and overalls that he decorated with all different colours of pens and markers. You know, it's funny... when I remember other people I knew when I was twelve, they don't look twelve in my mind. They look like they're in their twenties. I wonder why my mind does this, exactly. It's a bit of a panicky feature of the mind, if I do say so myself.

So anyway, that, in turn (along with the mention of Derek from work - who seems to be turning into the same kind of buddy as Topon was, without the "other bonus stuff"), made me think of Topon.

We started working at Zellers a day apart, that is I started working there the day after he did. The reason this happened is that my high school prom clashed with my job-starting day. It was June 23, 1997. At first he seemed really strange, kind of scruffy and awkward, and a little quiet. But I guess I was too, and have always been, so it didn't bother me too much.

He got the job through his best friend Emmitt, who was outgoing and friendly and crazy, and was a master of exotic drug-alcohol combinations on his off time. They were both very into heavy metal, long-haired and ironic, and I liked them both very much at first. Emmitt used to walk around the store singing rap songs interspersed with drum beats at the top of his lungs. He was always in a band, but often ran into the problem of singing and playing guitar at the same time, which he couldn't do.

Topon, on the other hand, was very quiet about his musical skills, but I later learned (and heard for myself) that he was mind-bogglingly good at playing his 5-string bass guitar.

At first, I thought it was Emmitt I liked better. Topon was unreachable, and Emmitt seemed like a good-time guy. I went out with him. Once. We went to see Weeping Tile. Unfortunately, I was not able to enjoy the concert due to his complete lack of movement. It was hilarious, and, if I hadn't been so unsure of myself (it *was* a few years ago) I probably would have laughed at the situation, and done what I'd wanted, which was dance with all the crazy dancing freaks. Instead, we sat in the balcony and I listened as he pointed out every riff that they did differently from the time he'd seen them before. *shrug* It was not so bad, just very awkward, and very cold. I mean that, I remember it as one of the coldest nights I've ever been outside. We left our coats in the car.

Anyway, I'm straying from the main subject, which is Topon. I have a feeling this entry will make me blow my limit on tripod ;)

The thrill of Emmitt wore down pretty fast. It was clear that he was not as exciting as he seemed (although I still adore the name Emmitt now... it's very original, you have to admit). And Emmitt got promoted when he dropped out of the U of O English programme, and the rest of us did not.

We stayed low-grade clerks, even though at our strange store, it was not a low-grade job at all. I remember one night when I was working the smokeshop cash (the main cash), answering phones and serving as a sort of customer service desk as well, and some crisis came up, everyone was rushing around, and I was on the phone to everyone almost simultaneously, and as I was talking to someone on the phone, it suddenly occured to me so clearly that I said it aloud at the same time: "I'm in charge right now, aren't I?", to which whoever was on the other end replied affirmatively. It really freaked me out. But that's the kind of store we were - always short-staffed, and way too much responsibility on every individual, but for some reason, we could always handle it. It wasn't uncommon at night to have 3 cashiers and a supervisor in a store which had two floors and 13 actual *cash registers* which could have been used, but weren't. There would be two people on the ground floor, and one in the basement.

That was on the very barest minimum. The rest of the time, we had two or three on the ground floor, and two in the basement. This is when Topon and I spent most of our time together.

After a very long and happy run in the jewelery department, I suppose I was scratched from someone's happy books, because for the last year or so I was condemned to Housewares, to the deepest darkest corner of the basement where air never circulates. I mean that. The lighting was terrible, and the past-broken bottles of perfume was all you could smell. The good thing about Housewares, however, was that it was full of good places to hide. High shelving in tight spaces where it was easy to pretend that you were folding towels when you were actually only having a conversation. It was close to Toys, as well. Its attraction, of course, if you know me well, is self-explanatory.

I remember, actually, once, long before I was sent down to serve hard time in Housewares, when I was still the queen of the jewelery department, a day when we all worked a stock shift of some kind. Another guy, Chris, whose stint at the store didn't last very long, and Topon and I were sent to unload, unwrap, sort and put away a giant load of pillows. Yeah, it sounds contrived, but it actually was a giant load of pillows.

It was such a tight space that we had to take all the pillows out of their boxes before we could begin to sort them and put them in their proper spots. So before we knew it, we had a field of fluffy pillows spread out before us, about twenty feet long and four or five feet wide. And of course, being the slackers that we all were, we stopped working for about an hour and just lay there in the pillows and chatted idly... Those pillows were my hayloft.

When I became the mistress of the Housewares department, Topon became the master of Menswear. So we were often the only two cashiers on the floor, on days and nights when it wasn't busy. A department store missing a few of its departments in a tourist district in January really doesn't do much business, especially at night.

More often than not, one of us would be visiting the other. The activity I remember doing most in all of my days and nights at Zellers is folding jeans. And so, I would help him fold the men's jeans, and we would talk. Or he would help me fold the towels, and we would talk. If we knew for some reason that we were being watched and needed to stick to our departments, one of us would call the other and make them laugh (I once rang his number and then held a battery-powered lollipop up to the phone. We were retarded). Occasionally, we were both able to escape our mutual departments. On those nights, we would meet in the Toy section and tease each other and play with Bananas in Pajamas dolls and Spiderman Web-projecting wrist thingees.

He had a girlfriend, Chrissy (no relation to my dear friend Chrissy who may stumble onto this page), but for some reason, I felt I knew him better than his girlfriend did. I suppose that's because he told me a lot about the way he felt about their relationship, stuff he never did tell *her*. He was pretty unhappy, kept threatening to break up with her, but never quite did, I'm afraid. He enjoyed having the option to just defer to her opinion. He let her make a lot of trivial decisions for him, it was his way of justifying their relationship. "I have no opinion on the way my watch looks. Chrissy picked it out." She was always trying to get him to stop playing metal, and trying to convince him to dress like a preppy, and cut his hair. To me, those prospects were completely ridiculous.

I guess he sort of used me as a relationship helpline, at least at first, and I did the same to him. Actually, we both joked about him being my official advisor on more than one occasion. The truth is, he helped me deal with some pretty tough and, as of then, unknown things that happened to me in early 1999, and I am eternally grateful.

Then during those last eight month or so, things got better. Things got weird. We were inseparable at work and it wasn't just me... he would seek me out as well. When we hung out, we didn't just chatter anymore; we talked about real things, about... I don't know, more important things than we had before. We fought. Which, I don't care if no one else agrees with me, no one else on God's green Earth, we both knew was the best part of our relationship. The fact that we could be having a great argument (Once, I made the passing comment "Enh, she wasn't your type." It made him indignant and amused, both at the same time.), go home, come back the next night and pick up exactly where we left off. "So, you think you know what my type is, eh?"

It was beautiful.

We both started hinting at having a crush on another employee... but never admitted who the crush was, in so many words. What we did do, was narrow it down to a point where it couldn't possibly have been anyone else. Every day for a week we would meet and play 20 Questions.

"Is it Emmitt?"
"No! Is yours Lynne?"
"Nope."

Oh, yeah... Topon's voice always sounded like he was trying to let as little air out as possible: in short, as if he was holding in a breath of pot. Which was strange... I'm pretty sure he'd given the stuff up long before, along with alcohol. Although shortly before I left, I did get him to drink *some* alcohol, which was an adventure in persuasion all in itself.

I think only a select few of the other people we worked with liked him, but when they did, they liked him a lot. I think the reason a lot of them didn't was that it was extremely hard to tell when he was kidding. A lot of the time, he would take something and run with it... and score the touchdown... and run out of the stadium... and into the parking lot... and into the KFC across the street... and never, ever let on that he was joking. It was up to you to figure that out. If you weren't smart enough to do that, you didn't really deserve to be his friend.

I seemed to always be able to tell when he was joking. I think that's because I was actually around him when he was serious, which was a rare phenomenon. I took a lot of his sense of humour with me when I left, although nothing is ever as good as the real thing, at least not where he's concerned.

The week I moved to Toronto, he finally got the guts together and broke up with Chrissy. I would have cheered for him if I'd known then.

Three months later, the week I returned to Ottawa to say hi and catch up, he got back together with Chrissy.

I probably should not have ever left at all. I miss him terribly tonight. I'm realizing only too late that not only was he a wonderful friend, but he was also a rock that I am no longer able, or allowed, to lean on. And I can hardly believe that I wrote this much. If anyone other than me got to the bottom of this page, I congratulate them fully for listening to me ramble on about someone they'll probably never meet. And it's too bad for them, really. :)

Posted by hKath at 4:35 PM ()

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12.11.00-
Cosmo got fixed today. We also got our first really big snowstorm, and I was at York when it hit. I actually got up at a very early hour today like a real human being and took Cos to the vet, and then packed it off to school where I was the first one there. And I am tired... oh, boy am I tired.

I closed the store last night. Actually, I was sort of sick all day. Very depressed, and lots of turmoil and yucky stuff going on, and it just hit me all at once yesterday, at least I thought that's what was happening. If you look around real sleuth-like, you might find out things that have been bugging me. Their evidence shall not be removed, because I am not a dictator. However, I found out that that wasn't my real problem yesterday after all.

So, I had to work. I felt so icky, and I was speaking in a monotone, I was so drained. I had no energy, I hadn't eaten, and I felt like I could throw up or faint at any second. I was hoping I'd get to go home early, since I was feeling so poorly and I knew there'd be someone else working the exact same shift.

Well. Let me tell you about Brad and Tanya. They are two of my coworkers who are now dating. And in most respects, that is fine with me. They make a fine couple, I think. However, last night was a prime example as to why a supervisor and his employee should not date. Mainly, because it is unfair to me. Tanya was feeling sick too. Actually, we both looked just about as miserable as each other. The only difference was, Tanya got to sit in the back and prep videos while I did my work and her work up at the front. And well, you know me... ever the martyr. Tanya even got to leave early, so I had to close all by myself. I got home around one, but I was pretty wound up, so I didn't get to bed until two. Then up at seven o'clock this morning and whee!

Today there was a beautiful snow storm which doubled my hour and a half long commute home. And I only had one CD with me at the time. How sad. But I'm not sad... exactly.

Yesterday, I was muddled. Confused. I was shifting blame, I was in denial, I had blinders on. Whatever you want to call it. It came clear sometime during those last hours I worked. What became clear, unfortunately, is that I am up shit creek and I just lost my outboard motor. It was a familiar place, somewhere I hadn't been in... oh, I don't know. Three years? Three or four. I thought that place had shut down, but apparently it hasn't.

And now I just have one thing to say: be careful what you wish for.

Posted by hKath at 4:35 PM ()

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12.14.00-
Wow, hard to believe it's only been 3 days since my last entry here. It feels like a millenium has gone by. Yesterday I worked all day feeling like I was about to puke. Then I commuted for an hour and a half, feeling like I was about to puke. Then I went shopping with Fiona -- well, you get the picture. The reason my commute took so long was that the drugs that I took to get me to stop feeling like I was about to puke made me sleepy, and I was sort of dozing on the bus, and I swear I felt it turn where it shouldn't have, so I panicked and got out. Then I had to find another bus and get back on it. We got more snow that evening too, and I'm beginning to think that when MC gets here, she'll be able to attest to the fact that Toronto currently has more snow than Ottawa. Which is a great feat.

Today, I was in a great mood! I found out that Martina was on the cover of NOW by looking into our NOW bin and doing a theatrical double-take. Article by Kim Hughes, of course, of course. Quoting Jian, of course, of course. I wonder why every show I go to seems to be reviewed by Kim, yet I never actually see her at any of the shows? Maybe I'm just messed up and wouldn't recognize her. Maybe. I doubt that, though.

Also, Evan came to visit. Evan is a fourteen-year-old boy who lives in our neighbourhood. Most of the Blockbuster clerks dislike him and think he's annoying, but I think he's great. Sure, he's very very spoiled. But he's also a lot of fun. I let him show me his laptop today. The kids at his private school all get one. OUCH! They also all get a wireless connection. DOUBLE OUCH! I didn't realize! The people I work with dislike him because he's rich, but it's definitely not his fault. He's just a kid, and I don't think he even enjoys being rich. And he still has to go to math class, and pass, and have gym class, and get made fun of by other kids. I think Evan might get made fun of a lot, and that sucks. Cause I think he's really cool.

No one in my house is doing the dishes again. It's making me very angry, actually, because the dishes are all from Brandy's friends who stayed here last weekend, yet it has been a week and they have gone unwashed, which leads me to believe that she wants *me* to wash them. Meanwhile, lovely little Mike who listens to DVDs until all hours at impossible volumes hasn't done the dishes once since he moved in a month ago. I want out!!! I can't believe that I'm going to buy these people Christmas presents!

Did you ever have something just sitting right there on the front of your brain, and everything that happened to you every day just reminded you of that one thing? And you thought about it so hard and so long that at the same time you became both nonchalant about it and passionate about it? Yeah, I guess everyone has at one time or another.

I just fell asleep, just now, writing this. I can't believe I have to go to a party tonight and I'm expected to drink I don't want to drink. I want to sleep. And then tomorrow... school, and Mikey Wood maybe. And then the next day: work. And the day after: work. And the day after that: work, and Martina. Fucking crazy, man. It's a wonder I ever get anything done that's not related to movies. Wait, *do* I ever get anything done that's not related to movies? Probably not. I guess that's kind of the problem.

Posted by hKath at 4:35 PM ()

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12.15.00-
Well. Considering how fucking *much* I had to drink and smoke last night, and how incredibly okay I feel this morning, I'll have