Tag Archives: patience

The Poison is the Medicine

It’s probably horrible to refer to my kid as “poison,” but there we are.

I went to the second weekly meeting of our bereavement support group today, and one of the themes that arose is the need for those of us in mourning to be gentle with ourselves. Our brains might not be working properly, we might not feel how we think we should feel, and possibly our single goal for each day is to make it through the day. We are supposed to be patient with ourselves. Mourning is a multi-stage journey, and how we are today is not how we’ll be weeks, months or years from now.

My immediate response to this was anger and resentment. I often don’t feel like I have the luxury of being gentle or patient with myself, because I have a four-year-old son who is in the middle of major life transitions. Isaac lost his dad four months ago, moved with me across the province, started a new preschool and is surrounded by a completely different set of family and friends.

Most of his toys and books are buried in our storage locker, which he told me tonight makes him “frustrated” and want to hit.

The Poison

No matter how much slack I want to give myself during this grieving process, I never feel like I can let it all loose because I have a son to take care of and comfort. I can’t get drunk, spend the day in bed or subsist on crusty bread, blue cheese and salami.

Sometimes I crave a week of solitude, just so I can sit still with the loss of Brock and do whatever I need to, to get all this sadness out.

And, in fact, I could run away for a week. But Isaac would miss me. And my job, at least for the immediate future, is to give him some stability and structure.

The Medicine

THEN it occurred to me, as I ate my way through the tin of chocolate cookies at hospice, that while Isaac makes this whole grieving thing more difficult, he is also what is pulling me through it.

Brock and I planned this move to Invermere for Isaac. Regardless of all my own reasons for coming here, if I didn’t have Isaac to consider I would probably set off on the Appalachian Trail this year. I wouldn’t be building a house here, or settling in for the next 15 years. It’s comforting to have this plan. I don’t ever feel lost or overwhelmed with decisions, because they’ve already been made. And I like our plan.

If I didn’t have Isaac, I wouldn’t have to get out of bed every morning (he likes to turn on all the lights to ensure I’m awake). I wouldn’t have the structure in my days (thanks to his preschool and various activities) that makes it possible for me to write and finish my first ever mystery novel.

Yes, having Isaac in my life forces me to function at a level above where I would like right now, but he also helps me grieve Brock. He talks about his dad every few days, telling me stories or clarifying memories while we drive around or read in bed. These mentions are random and therefore I don’t have my defences up: he forces me to remember, and it’s painful. Making Isaac’s Christmas gift, a photo album of “dad and Isaac” pictures, was a therapy session unto itself.

It’s All About the Dose

I Googled “poison is the medicine” for kicks and it comes from toxicology, specifically its father Paracelsus, a Swiss physician born in 1493-ish, who wrote:

“Sola dosis facit venenum”

Which Wikipedia translates as:

“Only the dose makes the poison.”

I interpret this to mean that my regular outsourcing of Isaac to preschool, gymnastics, swimming & skating & skiing lessons, Aunt Evy and his grandparents is a good thing.

And I suppose the fact that I use that alone time NOT to eat salami and drink martinis and sob in bed, but rather to write and attend a support group and read mysteries, is a good sign.

Maybe the dose is exactly right.

The hardest Christmas present I’ve ever made: a photo album for Isaac of all his photos with his dad.

July 2005

Canada Day!! – Friday, July 1, 2005 – 11:20 am

And it’s also Pride in Victoria this weekend, so there are SO MANY adventure-potentials!! Celeste was strangely giddy last night at Q’s, so we’ll have to take her a for a good long walk today.

And I still haven’t heard from Shawn, so I’m VERY concerned and contemplating calling the police. Maybe I can get the Q to do a quick drive-by so we can see if he’s home. The weirdest thing about Shawn’s disappearance is that I have no idea who to call. I don’t know his family, and I don’t know Savannah’s phone nymber, so I can’t confirm his OK-ness with anyone else. I might be the only one who knows he’s AWOL, and therefore it’s my responsiblity to track him down!

Cleaning House
My other commitments for today are to take out the garbage (which I hate doing – I’m a germaphobe) and checking on the bunnies. They probably need more water – it was hot out yesterday. And Peter’s litter box has lost its clean-hay-scent.

Health Status
I feel so much better today.

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Shawn of the Dead – Saturday, July 2, 2005 – 12:30 pm
Shawn isn’t dead!!! YAY!!! He resurrected after a few panicky phone calls on my part. And one house-visit that found NO blood-trail, body parts, et cetera. Apparently he does go AWOL sometimes. Good to know.

Canada Day Festivities
Q & Celeste & I attended the Drag Queen Baseball Game over in Vic West, and ran into some of our ‘mos: Rich, Cam, and so on. We ate hot dogs and then left. It was crazy — Shawanna Millionaire, the drag queen who (we’d heard) skipped town last summer after defrauding some loving ‘mos of their cash, was there in full wigged glory, doing backflips and cartwheels from base to base. It was too cold, though, so we went to Q’s for a nappy nap.

And then Luke came by and we drove up to see Q’s new home, and then we stopped by Michael’s house and the boys drank rum & sprites, but I didn’t because I’d decided to abstain from alcohol while tattooed. (. . .) And Celeste shat on Michael’s lawn.

Also, while at Michael’s, Shawn called to tell me he was alive and reading a new book. Yay! On the way downtown for dinner we kidnapped him and tried out the food at the Garlic Rose on Wharf, and they were serving a special 1L “boot” of beer, but no one at our table had that. It was odd to have two redheads with us, when normally we have none.

After dinner Q & Luke went to some house party at the Railyards and Shawn & I talked and watched CityTV porn until 3am. When the fireworks came on, we climbed the roof at Q’s and watched all the drunk twinkies milling about on Broad Street, and the fireworks were pretty. Some new fangled ones, I think, with hearts & circles.

Anyhoo, I had a great Canada Day night and I’m really glad Shawn isn’t dead because he’s super.

Oh, and the Laundry
I did all my laundry yesterday at Q’s, and I am SO PLEASED to have a full closet of tubetops & other non-shoulder-rubbing shirts. My tattoo doesn’t hurt at all, and it looks fine, but I’m determined to be a good tattooee and do everything like my tattooer said re: healing.

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Dancing Queen – Sunday, July 3, 2005 – 8:58 am
We went to Prism last night, and it was the first time ever I’ve seen a line-up there. Lucky for us, Q’s Rotary & Freemason (shh!) connections tend to negate any “waiting in line” nonsense.

“We,” in this case, include Luke, Spencer, Christine, the Q, and a new boy named “Steve with an E” (??) who apparently came out VERY recently. And I could tell. He was hitting on every boy in sight, and still knew how to dance with a woman. Polka steps, no less.

Also, we saw Cameron (topless, with a few other topless hotties) and Kent, which was funny. I got to introduce him to my boyz and some of the new ones I’d met that night. NEVER underestimate the value of a homo honey. Thank you very much.

The Porch
I finally got around to checking up on the bunnies outside. I’m such a neglectful bunny mom. Anyhoo, I went out and Seamus & Caramel were sitting side by side on the couch, looking like aged rabbits due to excessive seasonal shedding. Caramel escaped, but Seamus (who still, I think retains some memory of being a passive house rabbit) let me pull off some of the fluff. I watered them and swept up a bit, and I didn’t see any flies, which have worried me due to their potential bunny-harming faculties. I bought two fly traps yesterday at Home Depot, and I’m excited about them except that I’m supposed to use raw, rotting meat as bait and that’s fucking disgusting. Also, I have no raw meat in this apt. Also, the smell of raw, rotting meat might displease my bunnies. Sensitive vegans that they are.

Annie Hall
Apparently this is the film that made Woody Allen good. It was all downhill thereafter. I watched the first half yesterday and I love it, but I can see that his neurotic persona is only likeable because it’s new (to the audience at the time) and subsequent neurotic Woody Allens would lead to hatred and scorn. Also, the female-male relationships are fascinating — power imbalances, a rapport that I would see as patronising and emotionally crippling.

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Pictures & A Sun Burn – Sunday, July 3, 2005 – 11:21 pm
Have a look at the “pictures” page for a whole bunch of stuff from last weekend . . .

Also, here’s a mouse that Shawn & I saw while GSing a while back.

[2017 note: I can’t find these photos so you’ll just have to imagine them.]

This is a crow, waiting for us to leave so it can eat the mouse.

And here’s Q, multitasking.

[Imagine a photo of Q holding a phone to each ear.]

About the sun burn — I have one. On my nose.

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Odd Sleep Patterns – Monday, July 4, 2005 – 10:06 pm
I’ve been coming home, eating, and then sleeping for HOURS, and then I wake up at 8 or 9 pm. Mathematically this should be fine, but I was tired today, so we’ll see how tomorrow is.

Liv’s Hot Young Dentist
After work today I went to the dentist to escort Liv home, post-wisdom-teeth-extraction. She was anaestheticised so I held her arm on the stairs and kept her from wandering into traffic. Brave Liv.

If I have to get my wisdom teeth out, I want to keep the teeth. AND I will warn the dentist not to say “blood clots” to me when I am nauseous, because I might puke. Also, I will “eat” chocolate Boost and pudding.

A Strange Sort of Being Single
I really like this. I get to spend time with a sexy, smart straight man who does his own thing, and I get cuddles and unconditional love from the Q and my ‘mos, and I have two great girl friends to buy things and drink martinis with. Also, I spend my time doing EXACTLY what I want, whether it’s napping or dishes or running or being friendly. The only thing lacking is, of course, sexual gratification, but for now this is pretty damn fine.

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Adventures in Budgeting – Tuesday, July 5, 2005
I should know better than to attempt this “budget” thing. Every time I try it, something bizarre happens — last time, a student loan debt appeared out of nowhere and threw me for a $700 loop. Whatever. I can’t live in fear of jinxing my bank balance.

So I figured it out, and I pay $836/month in student loan debt. Yiminy! Yes, it was worth it, but gees, that’s a lot of money. That’s 200 cheap Syn martinis (not including tip or appies). Then I owe a very reasonable $550/month for rent, and this leaves me with a little less than 2 weeks’ pay for food and beverages and bunny hay. Thank god I get paid well.

Bunny Guilt
I peeked in on S&C early this morning and Seamus was sitting on his back feet, which is weird because normally they’re on all fours. So I went out to check on the wee fella, and his front nails were RIDICULOUSLY long, each one practically an inch of curling claw. I felt awful. So I clipped them asap, which of course upset him, but I waited around until he unfroze and started cleaning his paws, so (hopefully) no tramautic side effects. Caramel is probably equally savage, but I needed her to be calm for Seamus so I’m waiting until later today to pedicure her.

Ironically, I refuse to give up my bunnies (S&C) to another home because I know they won’t have it as good anywhere else. They get so much freedom and care from me that a more sheltered life (in a cage — ew!!) would be worse than the occassional broken nail. If I ever thought I’d found a home that would let them be proper house rabbits, I’d let them go, but I doubt that would happen. People are generally rabbit-stupid.

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Movies I Wanna See – Tuesday, July 5, 2005 – 8:27 pm
Mr. & Mrs. Smith
Batman Begins
Fantastic Four
Madagascar
Charlie and the Chocolate Factory, with Johnny Depp!!!!!

Movie I Just Saw
Charlie’s Angels, for the first time with sound. I’ve only ever seen it on an airplane, without earphones. Cameron Diaz is so much fun (for an anorexic)! I want her to play me in my life movie. But she’ll have to grow a belly first. Or at least be a realistic, voluptuous weight, a la The Mask.

I love movies. They’re novels for lazy people.

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Finding Oneself Via the Net . . . Again – Wednesday, July 6, 2005
This is from Liv: she’s starch . . . I am water. I’m awesome. Q doesn’t like me very much.

Water
You are water. You’re not really organic; you’re
neither acidic nor basic, yet you’re an acid
and a base at the same time. You’re strong
willed and opinionated, but relaxed and ready
to flow. So while you often feel worthless,
without you, everything would just not work.
People should definitely drink more of you
every day.

Which Biological Molecule Are You?
brought to you by Quizilla

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There Are Boobies On TV – Wdnesday, July 6, 2005 – 7:20 pm
I’m watching “Cleavage Culture” and it’s fascinating.

HOOTERS GIRL: I’m a feminist. I have a lot of feministic views.

Experimenting With Carbs
Perhaps the only aspect of my government-induced weight gain that displeases me is the back fat. The boobs are fun, my tummy’s nice and squishy, but the back fat is . . . wrong. So Jessie, my Food & Nutrition Guru*, is supporting me in a two week experiment wherein I eat minimal “carbs.” These “carbs” are, apparently, in everything I like to eat: bread, pasta, carrots even . . . But Jessie predicts that a lower-carb, higher-protein & veggie diet will get rid of that goshdarned back fat, without excessive changes to my exercise routine. And I like that.

* About Jessie being my Food & Nutrition Guru: yes, this is funny. It’s a private joke, but . . . to Jessie: ha!

Anyhoo, I tried to eat dinner today and failed. I hid all the “carb” stuff I like in the cupboard: spaghetti, fettuccine, crackers, rye bread (actually I threw that out because rye bread after 2 weeks would be nasty). And I replaced my counter buffet with cans of tuna, tomato soup, and some soup broth powder (the only non-carb items I already have on hand). So for dinner, I chose some cheese (yumyum) and tomato soup. And then I burned the soup.

You know, I remember a time when I made deluxe daily meals: roast beef, yorkshire puddings, steamed veggies . . . and they were great. I had no back fat. And now I burn canned soup.

Whatever. My starting weight, according to Circuit City’s display scale, is 138.2 pounds, with sexy black leather boots on. The experiment begins . . .

Being A Writer
I walked to work and ruminated on my play, which has been perplexing me. So I mentally dismantled the structure, thought “form = content,” made a listy list of options, considered numerology & gospel parallels, and ended up with a useable, meaningful skeleton on which to build my play. YAY!!!!

Ironically, my writing classes were separate from my English Lit classes, and yet it helps so much to work backwards (i.e. from the perspective of a critically-thinking audience) to figure out how to write something.

Example: If I want to have a Virgin Mary / Mary Magdalene paradox, but want to avoid binaries (which are inherently masculine) then I need to have both Marys working TOGETHER, rather than opposed, as in the cliched/traditional devil vs. angel technique. Unity, rather than conflict.

Therefore: Mother Mary and Maggie are instructional forces in Mary’s road trip, not obstacles or distractions.

I sent the reworked first few pages to Nathan, who has commissioned scripts from me & Keith, and he giggled. Via email. And I feel WONDERFUL that I’ve figured out the structure, because now I can just cut-and-paste the dialogue & text & ideas that I have, and whatever new stuff I write will be more focused and have a PURPOSE to fulfill.

And don’t we all like having a purpose?

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Does Shake & Bake Have Carbs?? – Thursday, July 7, 2005 – 6:39 pm
It was either BBQ ribs or S&B chicken legs, and I let Q choose, and he chose S&B so I am not responsible. Also, I had a “low carb” bagel + cream cheese after work. But I’ve been carb-free otherwise! Yay me!

AND Q, J & I are trying not to drink any alcohol for ten days (starting a few days ago — the last time I drank anything was Canada Day, actually). And we’ve all kept to this, except that I am currently drinking (or trying to drink) a Diet Coke, since it is the only cold, non-alcoholic beverage here at Q’s, and it tastes SO BAD that I am very tempted to add just a little tiny bit of rum. Tastes like aspartame. Plastic sugar. Ew.

Being Okay That Shawn Has Other Females in His Life
Shawn has an Ontario girlfriend visiting, and I am incredibly jealous. I am not used to having to share my boys with anyone. Spencer loves ME, and ME ALONE (or at least, we pretend). Luke loves ME. Alex loves ME. Every female in the world falls in love with Q, but I know he’s really mine and we will always be each other’s best friend. (I have his momma’s phone number memorized.) So here I am, having to share my new friend. I’ve lost all my ability to be grown up about this.

Actually, that’s not true. I’ve vowed not to let my possessiveness be noticed by Shawn. He’s new, and I don’t want to frighten him. So I’ll just silently writhe. Or writhe over lunch hour with Q and Jessie to roll their eyes at me. And hopefully my skin will toughen up, just like I’ve learned not to groan aloud when Shawn flicks to the sports channel on tv AND WATCHES IT.

Also, My New Play
Here are the first few pages . . . most of the script is already written, I just have to shift stuff around and “fill in the blanks” so that it makes some sort of non-esoteric sense.

[2017 note: maybe someday I’ll post the script to maryMARY here …]

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Carbs Shmarbs – Friday, July 8, 2005
This is foolish. For breakfast I wanted my usual Friday special: the steamed eggs with cheddar cheese and sourdough with strawberry jam. But bread is illegal, so I had to choose a carbfree breakfast sidedish to replace it, and therefore: bacon. 4 strips. HOW IS THAT HEALTHIER THAN TOAST????

This whole “being aware of food” thing could really mess a person up. Everything is grams and sugar content. Food should not = numbers!! I’m glad this is only a short term experiment.

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Lazy Weekend – Saturday, July 9, 2005 – 10:50 am
I’ve been reading a book Boss Theresa leant me, by Miriam Toews. It’s about Mennonites, and it’s very very good. I might actually be motivated to finish this one.

Last night was a terrible waste of a Hot Heather Day. Sometimes everything comes together and I’m stunningly hot. But if there are no plans, and everyone else is as lame as me, then it’s only appreciated by Peter. So sad. I watched craptv and drank tea, and wished I could think of an adventure that would involve other people appreciating my pretty-phase.

Anyhoo, Q is coming to get me any minute now, and we will carve out some sort of adventure for today. It’s actually sunny . . .

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Bad Movie – Sunday, July 10, 2005 – 12:58 am
Fantastic Four is gawdawful. Don’t waste your money. The only good part was the three beautiful men sitting beside me in the theatre.

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Wild Horses – Monday, July 11, 2005 – 4:29 pm
That’s it. I’m done.

Stupid stupid men and their stupid stupid secret codes.

For example: Q and the boyz say that men like to be ignored. This is inherently opposed to ME. I do not ignore those I like. No, strange Heather, I actually try to spend time with them and talk with them. I will send love letters and emails if I’m thinking lovey thoughts. I will give presents, because I like to.

What’s wrong with spontaneous acts of love? Isn’t that what men inevitably bitch about — the lack thereof? “She isn’t spontaneous, she won’t fuck me in the kitchen.” Well, fuck you.

And why does everything have to be so dramatic? Whatever happened to:

1. girl meets boy;
2. girl and boy like each other;
3. girl and boy tell each other this;
4. girl and boy fool around.

Aren’t I supposed to be the “game-playing” one??? Isn’t that the female stereotype? Why am I the straight-forward one, and YOU MEN are all so vague and coded? It Is Not That Complicated.

At least get your goddamn stereotypes straight. The next time I hear a movie or man rhetorically ask: “What the hell do women want?” I WILL TELL YOU. And you won’t like it.

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Awake For 16.5 Hours – Tuesday, July 12, 2005 – 9:30 pm
I woke up at 5am and was actually awake, not just dreaming of being awake, so I got up and talked to my dad & mom while I walked to work. Liv and I had sushi, and after work Shawn & I went to Swans to drink, and then walked to Fonyo Beach (??) and Shawn threw rocks at a particular spot in the water and I dug through smelly rocks for pretty things. It was sunny.

I feel somewhat more balanced today, which is good. I’m still completely perplexed by TMWWIW/AIL’s letter yesterday, which is an uncrackable combination of raving poetry and furious mania. (Aka good writing that I admire and don’t want to admire because TMWWIA/AIL broke my heart and I don’t know how to feel okay about admiring the writing of someone who broke my heart.)

SHAWN: There’s a soundtrack?

HEATHER: There’s always a soundtrack.

Anyhoo, I’ve resolved to keep breathing and eating and sleeping, and eventually everything will sort itself out.

Ohmigod, I’ve learned patience. When did that happen??????

Correction: I’ve learned the value of APPEARING to have patience, while inside I still get squishy with tummy butterflies and shaky with the DESIRE TO HIT SOMETHING REALLY REALLY HARD.

Because here is what I’d like to be real. And yes, I know this contravenes the advice and warnings I’ve had from EVERY fucking confidante, but I only tell the truth (unless I’m making shit up) so here it is:

I want TMWWIW/AIL to know what he wants. I want him to want me. Because even though he’s crazy and just a baby in the world, I am fairly sorta sane and jaded and I know what I need. Actually, I think I know what most of us need. And that is:

1. to know ourselves (hey, that’s my tattoo, freaky coincidence!);
2. to be okay with ourselves; and
3. to find someone who can love us, even when they know us really well.

Yes, I am embracing my foolish self in unreasonable, unrequited love. Fuck pride, fuck logical choices. It’s awfully hard to find a soulmate and when you do, it’s even harder to let them get away.

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Drinking a Cider & Loving It – Wednesday, July 13, 2005 – 7:01 pm
It’s sunny & tanktop-warm outside, and I wore my sexy new “kitten” heels that look kinda like flamenco shoes today. I LOVE SUMMER.

Shawn Is Getting Some, the Bastard
Yesterday on our Big Walk we talked a lot about everything (from critical theory to fucking strangers) and I’ve decided that this is a really sweet situation. I get to be good friends with a smart, sexy, entertaining straight man and I don’t have to deal with all the drama and butterflies of being in love. Shawn’s girlfriend is named Nicole, for the record, and she intends to stay here in Victoria. Oh, the drama!!!! It’s fun watching Shawn squirm: he’s a loner who enjoys his private time, and he’s sharing a small living space with a woman. Hee hee. I would be more supportive and sympathetic, but I’m sleeping alone, and he gets it whenever he wants it (the bastard). So no pity for Shawn.

Tonight
Q is at the gym so Celeste & I are waiting for him to come home and shower, and then we’re meeting the boyz for martinis & dinner.

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Word of the Day – Thursday, July 14, 2005
“cacoethes” = kak-oh-EE-theez
an urge to do something inadvisable.

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Wonderful Sleepy Afternoon – Thursday, July 14, 2005 – 7:50 pm
After work I had a nappy nap on the hammock on Q’s rooftop. Except for falling asleep while wearing my contact lenses, it was exactly what I needed.

For some reason (stress???) I radiated Inappropriate Anger Management vibes today — I wanted desperately to have a tantrum and scream & pummel strangers on Douglas Street. Pent up sexual energy, I suppose. Whatever. The hammock nap and subsequent, complementary indoor nap on Q’s couch have relaxed me. I don’t even want one of the ciders in the fridge.

And now it’s almost 8pm on Thursday, and there are all kinds of lovely mystery detective shows on soon, and I’ve slept all afternoon so I won’t have to go to bed early and miss them.

Explanation of “Cacoethes”
First off, it’s a brilliant word for me. I have urges to do inadvisable things ALL THE TIME. I like to think it’s a writer thing. Except for when it results in trouble, in which case it’s an Inappropriate Anger Management thing or Christmas Eve Complex thing or Impulse Control Disorder thing, and therefore I should up my daily meds.

Anyhoo. I thought I’d be all proactive and express my fury at Q’s troubles re: being appreciated by his current and potential employers by complaining to The Dude In Charge. So I looked up the head honcho for the Public Service Agency. I happen to know this person through work to some extent, although I’ve never met him . . . moment of pause. But whatever. I was Heather The Proactive, Malcontent Citizen so I emailed this man from my home email account (NOT work — at least I was thinking there) and said B.C. was wasting its homegrown talent by not making an effort to keep my Q in the province, thereby forcing him to apply to Alberta and et cetera.

The man (a gentleman, truly) responded with a nice email and said Q should talk to him.

Unfortunately, when I forwarded this to Q it wasn’t a good thing. Q had seen this man on the way in to work, and he wasn’t happy about the email situation. SO ultimately I put Q in a really awkward position, and embarrassed him, and . . . yep.

Q wrote to the man and apologised, explaining that I get maternal at times and that he would be discussing the appropriateness of what I’d done with me asap. (He actually was impressively diplomatic and articulate — maybe that will get him a sweet job and everything will work out!!!! Ahem.)

Anyhoo. I have a new tattoo idea as a result (if I can think of where I’d put it): caceothes, another Greek term that explains me too well.

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To Be Explained Later – Saturday, July 16, 2005 – 1:32 am
Harry Potter launch party at Chapters: I was Professor Trelawney and read tarot cards for pre-teens.

Accomplishment of the week: my fly-traps work and are filled with dead flies. YAY! Now Seamus & Caramel can frolic with minimal risk of fly-borne illness.

Also, I drove Jessie to the ferry. I love driving on the highway, sometimes.

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Sunny – Saturday, July 16, 2005 – 11:14 am
Just watched 8 Mile, Eminem’s experiment in postmodern identity. Who are we? Marshall Mathers/Slim Shady/Eminem/Bunny Rabbit/B. Rabbit/Jimmy . . .

EMINEM: I am / whoever you say I am.

He’s fricking genius, that’s what.

Anyhoo, today is the Moss Street Paint In. I always end up with some sort of physical issue after this annual event: sun burn, blisters from ill-advised flip flops . . . but it’s not TOO sunny and I will sunscreen, don a coygirl hat* & wear appropriate footwear. Just one of those occasional measurements of what I’ve learned so far in life.

*”coygirl hat” = a Freudian slip??? I meant cowgirl hat . . . and by that, I mean mainstream alternative Le Chateau weave hat thing.

Speaking of Occasional Measurements
My temporary experiment with carbs has passed. It’s too complicated to pay attention to that sort of thing. Also, I really like bread and bread products. So screw it.

However, I’ve noticed a lessening of belly & other curvy bits, and I think this has to do with the minimal quantity of cider I’ve allowed myself lately. (Yes, mom, you’re right. Again.)

Also, I find that when I pay more attention to NOT drinking cider (or anything), I’m less likely to choose an alcoholic beverage just because it’s handy and cold in the fridge. I’m more inclined to drink water. So that’s healthy. Almost makes up for my recent neglect of the whole “running around the block” thing.

I haven’t gotten around to weighing myself recently, so I can’t really quantify any changes. Maybe sometime this next week.

Belated Birthday Loving
It was Nathan’s birthday yesterday, but I accidentally slept through his celebration. Sorry about that, Nate — I’ll wear the blue knee socks for you on our next lunch date. And maybe you can touch them. Maybe.

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Laugh Tracks – Sunday, July 17, 2005 – 5:31 pm
Ever since Annie Hall I’ve been uncomfortable with laugh tracks. Now Q and Luke are watching Everyone Loves Raymond and all I can hear is the canned laughter. It’s so plastic.

Today’s Death March
Q took us to Prior Lake today. We (FINALLY!!) found the nude beach, after five years of searching, but it was more of a dock than a beach and although everyone was naked they were also old and unsexy and WAY too close to each other. I dream of a sandy, sunny beach where I can lie with my boobies exposed, but this was not meant to happen today.

So we went, instead, to the regular-person area and found a not-too-anty slope and Celeste dove into the water because she was so fricking hot. And I’m even more browny now, except, of course, for my goddamn tanfree boobs.

I heard some comedian say that tan lines are like a second-hand textbook: all the good parts have already been highlighted. Haha.

Harry Potter, Book 6
I’ve been reading my new Harry Potter, which was my payment for reading tarot cards as Prof. Trelawney at Chapters’ Harry Potter Launch Party on Friday. It’s so good. The writing isn’t exactly Giller-quality, but the story is twisty and wonderful. I have always suspected that J.K.Rowling sold her soul to the devil; it’s too addictive to just be fiction. More like crack. Wordy crack.

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Making Soup – Monday, July 18, 2005 – 5:01 pm
I’m making my famous soup. It’s yummy.

Soup used to be scary and therefore canned, but I overcame that mental barrier about two years ago.

This thought, along with the Love, Actually soundtrack, has put me in a mood to compose:

Ode to Heather’s Exes
I keep souvenirs; my apartment is full of them. (Souvenirs, not exes.)

Nate: cedar box made for me for Christmas, currently holding a never-finished quilt and being used as my coffee table.

Matte: hackysack-making materials, hidden in my craft cupboard. Also, a yellow Starburst wallet that I carried around until it literally fell apart.

Q: everything in my apt, including the futon on the bunnies’ porch, my bed, my mattress, my desk . . . also, my orange/yellow poster that I wanted for YEARS.

Rob: confidence re: making soup from scratch.

Kent: a drawer full of lingerie that I don’t fit into anymore; one of his first ever headshots.

Divyesh: two petri dishes, some chem lab stopper things, and the pretty lights in my washroom.

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The Hood – Tuesday, July 19, 2005
Here are the people who have become my nieghbours (aka people I say “Good Morning” to, and who might notice if I suddenly disappeared):
– the short maintenance guy, usually sitting at a table at the Breezeway Cafe;
– Sue & Stephen, the husband/wife owners of the Executive Shop newspaper place;
– the city worker who is always shovelling snow/blowing leaves/watering plants/sweeping/salting the walkways;
– the delivery man at CIBC who I’ve helped through the doors a few times, who is looking for a wife;
– the staff at Rheinland Bakery;
– the friendly older man cashier at the liquor store in Bay Centre;
– the group of senior-aged men who eat breakfast at Caffe Theatro sometimes and tell me I look pretty;
– the blond woman & her partner who own and manage Caffe Theatro and invented a special, non-spicy breakfast pannini to accomodate my sensitive stomache.

For Old Time’s Sake
Levi is performing this weekend!!!

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Bonding With Nathan – Tuesday, July 19, 2005 – 3:36 pm
I took Nathan to Azuma for his Birthday sushi. Yummy yummy yumyum.

The strangest thing about Nathan is not the “Susie” work shirt or the occasional hair barrettes: it’s that he doesn’t drink hot drinks. So when we go for sushi and I O.D. on jasmine tea, he lets his cup sit until it’s tepid and then orders a glass of cold water and a Pepsi with ice.

Anyhoo, Nathan is an untapped source of Straight Single Men. He has committed to “hooking me up” with someone I approve of: tall, smart, et cetera. The Fringe Festival begins in August; this is apparently “Hook-Up Season” among the resident artsy people, and so we are planning our attack.

NATHAN: You’ve already got your summer tan. This won’t be hard at all.

Harry Potter: Read It
I will not tell you what happens. But it’s a good book (of course) so read it.

Also: Johnny Depp
I still haven’t seen Charlie & the Chocolate Factory and I really really want to. The most difficult part is choosing who to invite. It must be someone who properly appreciates the screwy beauty of Tim Burton and co.

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Wow! 3 Times in One Day! – Tuesday, July 19, 2005 – 10:09 pm
I had a very very very good night tonight.

I wanted an adventure, but no one was home, and then I slept through the 6:45pm show of Charlie & the Chocolate Factory, and then it was 7pm and I decided to go downtown to a cafe and write the scene I’d promised myself I’d write today for my new play.

So I walked down and sat at the bar at Serious Coffee on Broad & Yates, and I wrote LIKE A FRICKING FIEND for 2 or so hours. Pages and pages, and lots of clever ideas to fire up the parts I was unsure about.

It’s easy to forget how good this feels. It’s cathartic and satisfying and I feel awake after. Maybe this is a side-effect of doing What I’m Supposed To Be Doing in life. Or maybe it’s because I talk so much and have so much to say, and to focus all that thought on a specific project is empowering. And I can forget about the various obsessions in my life, and just think about words and how to use them.

Whatever. I’m excited about my play. I want to see it produced. And I intend to have it ready to submit to the National Playwriting contest thingy this week.

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Johnny Depp + Tim Burton + Roald Dahl = July 20, 2005, 9:38 pm
Oh wow oh wow oh wow. I have never before watched a movie that I would happily watch ALL OVER AGAIN immediately after.

If anyone wants to go see Charlie and the Chocolate Factory I will go with you.

Wow.

And Also
My house smells like bunny pee. I’m waiting for Peter to leave his litter box so that I can clean it.

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Lounging in Swimwear – Thursday, July 21, 2005 – 8:25 pm
Today was crazy busy at work. I called every major media outlet in B.C. and tried not to say anything embarrassing to a reporter. (This requires minimal giggling, and I have a bit of a problem controlling that.)

Anyhoo, all is well and the day is done and I have a cider in my system. I’m wearing my brown bikini in the hopes that I’ll pick up enough radiation from the computer screen to erase these horrific tanlines I created while reading Harry Potter, hunched over, in the sunshine on Tuesday. My tummy looks like a zebra’s tummy.

Historic Day For Human Rights
Today Queen Adrienne gave royal assent to the same-sex marriage bill, thereby officially making homophobia illegal. Or something like that. This is a HUGE day for human rights — similar to that wild day in October, 1929, when women were declared “persons.”

For My Stalkers
I’m house- and puppy-sitting for Q this weekend. He’s off to Seattle to party like only a Q can. Celeste and I will give each other manicures and gossip about our crushes. There’s a hot rottie at the dog park who’s been extra eager to sniff her ass . . .

If anyone feels like sunning on the rooftop this weekend, give me a call. (I can’t hear the buzzer from inside.)

Also, it’s Luminara this weekend — on Saturday, I think — and I’m trying to decide:
1. if I want to brave the crowds and go;
2. who I’d want to go with.

Luminara has so much romantic potential! The park is completely dark except for the lanterns, and you can snuggle in the trees. The last time I went was with Rob and his unacknowledged-crush-but-definitely-mood-ruining friend Dylan. It wasn’t the romantic adventure I’d expected.

And One Last Thing About Romance, Et Cetera
I was browsing blogs (during a break – ahem) at work today, and stumbled onto this guy named Roger who has recently fallen into mad puppy love with a girl. He’s so open about his excitement and affection for her that MY FAITH IN (STRAIGHT-) MANKIND HAS BEEN RENEWED. Maybe all straight men AREN’T passive, reserved, and ultimately disappointing. Maybe it’s possible to find someone who will not only adore me, but TELL me that he adores me.

What a crazy thought.

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Waking Up to Doggy Kisses – Saturday, July 23, 2005 – 8:27 am
The seagulls are very loud outside. I left the window open for temperature control and I dreamed of being beachside all night.

The Most Disgusting Thing Ever
My landlord, Ian, called the other day to say the house I live in has developed a “rat problem,” in that a rat was spotted in the house the other day.

First thought: Maybe it was Peter?

Second thought: It’s the fault of your hippy children, who leave the doors open all the time.

Ian asked me to lock up the bunny food and be extra attentive to the litterboxes on the porch.

Anyhoo, I went to feed the bunnies after work and there was a chewhole in their foodbag, which is kept up high so they can’t possibly reach it. The I looked around my pile o’ bunny stuff and found a whole bunch of non-bunny shit in one of the open containers. New thing learned: rat shit looks like extra long tictacs.

So I feel silly, being all defensive (in my head, not aloud to Ian, thank god). Jessie suggested that the presence of a rat might explain some unusual midnight stomping a few weeks back. I wonder how Seamus & Caramel (would) feel about a rat: they share the same rodent species, after all. I wonder if they can communicate.

SEAMUS TO CARAMEL: EEEK!! There’s a beasty out there!

CARAMEL TO RAT: Fuck off, rat.

My proactive plan is to set a trap up on the counter where I (used to) store the food. The bunnies can’t get up there, so any rodent I catch is fair game.

Ew.

My New Play
It’s done! Or at least, done enough to submit to the contest thingy. I have everything ready to be mailed today.

Deadlines are so helpful.

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Man-Friends Suck – Saturday, July 23, 2005 – 6:23 pm
Shawn and I were SUPPOSED to walk Celeste today and take her for a swim in the Georgia Strait and clean up his resume for an excellent job that I found for him.

Not only did we not get to go on our walk and bond, but ALSO he didn’t call to explain his absence until 6pm, and we can’t even reschedule for tonight because he’s going to Luminara (which I told him about, by the way) for a romantic night with his girlfriend.

Dink.

Man-friends suck.

Except for the Q, who is away right now so he can’t comfort me and tell me that I’m better off without man-friend dinks in my life.

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Man-Friends Suck, Part II – Saturday, July 23, 2005 – 7:09 pm
I’ve returned from Hollywood Tonight, armed with The Terminal and Be Cool. Also, self-analysis (and some adventures on Yates Street) has revealed the following:

The part that pisses me off the most re: straight manfriends is that I get so much attention from male strangers, and yet the guys I make friends with treat me like smelly pooh.

Well, not that badly. But definitely not as well as I’d like to be treated. Q says I “clean up nice,” and I do. So where the hell is the line between “little hottie I want to fuck” and “some chick I spend time with when I’m not busy”??? Is there a happy middle-ground of common courtesy???????

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A Surprising Twist of Fate – Sunday, July 24, 2005 – 12:17 am
Be Cool was great and The Terminal was boring & stupid. Who’da thunkit?

Weird People Posting Comments
I don’t think I know anyone who knows that language that’s on the comments thingy. I have no idea what it says.

Possibility 1: This is the best site ever! You are wonderful and I will buy your novel when you one day write it.

Possibility 2: Self-indulgent, poorly spelled bullshit.

Possibility 3: Haha, you probably can’t read this comment and don’t know what I’m saying. Writhe!

Also, “Anonymous”??? It takes more time (and effort) to type “Anonymous” correctly than any name I know. (Chicken shit.)

[2017 note: my original Little Spitfire blog was built in the olden days of blogging: we didn’t have Akismet or fancy pants comments/spam plugins back then. I used a then-state-of-the-art line of code to enable comments on my site. I can’t remember if I was able to edit/delete/not-approve posted comments.]

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The Perfect Life – Sunday, July 24, 2005 – 3:38 pm
Key ingredient: sunshine.

THEN, combine with a comfortable couch, a fridge full of Chinese leftovers from The Forum, a six-pack of raspberry cider, two bottles of faux vino, and a hammock in the sun.

ALSO, some means of writing, be it computer or pen & paper.

ALSO, access to 50% familiar music (i.e. Eminem) and 50% unfamiliar but decent music, aka Quinn’s iTunes.

Some Interesting Visuals to Contemplate While You Consider This Miracle Recipe For Happiness
Some guy over in the UK (I used to think that meant “Ukraine” . . .) does chalk-drawings on the sidewalk that look 3-D. Yiminy.

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I’ve Been Dissed By the Media!!!!!! – Monday, July 25, 2005
This is so nifty. The following is an excerpt from a political column in the Times Colonist this weekend (remember last week, when I had to make media calls??):

“The Liberal government, which is usually so conscientious about sending e-mails to media outlets, didn’t issue a bulletin to alert reporters ahead of time about the press conference.
Instead, a ministry flak made calls to select reporters, leaving a number of press gallery members in the dark.”

“Ministry flak”!!!!! Ha!!!

 

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Adventures of a Ministry Flak – July 25, 2005 – 6:14 pm
I realised this morning, while typing, that I forgot to paint one of my fingernails with pretty shell-colour nailpolish last night.

Also, it is ridiculously beautiful outside so I want to go walk Celeste in the sunshine. I’m waiting patiently for Q to have a 30 minute nap, and then I’m going to make him come for a walk with us.

Updates on Love, Et Cetera
There is nothing exciting to report. I guess that’s what happens when I spend all my time with rabbits, gay men, and a Non-Romantic Life Partner (aka “the Q”).

However, I did have an epiphany today, while looking at the pictures of pretty men in the sports pages of a newspaper. It is as follows:

– the men in the sports pages are about the same age as me.
– they are very busy playing sports and doing sports interviews and otherwise furthering their sports careers.
– they are very busy becoming successful at what they love to do, and therefore probably don’t exactly give a shit about falling in love, having babies, meeting their soulmate, blah blah blah.
THEREFORE
why the hell am I thinking about love and et cetera when I should be working at being successful as a playwright/writer? Now (my 20’s) is when I should be writing and working my ass off to make a lovely life for myself as a Playwright/Writer.

I think this might be one of those “women are conditioned to nest” issues. But screw that, I’m an educated feminist with some rather neato skills. My focus has been corrupted by thoughts of nooky & flowers.

It remains to be seen if my life perspective begins to reflect this new understanding, or if I continue to lust/obsess over pretty, smart men.

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Heather For Dummies – Tuesday, July 26, 2005
First, let me update: Shawn and I are being nice to each other again, because he:
1. apologized for his dink-like actions; and
2. asked me to stop being mad at him.

However, I think (for future reference, and for those with whom I have not yet been pissy) that I will explain my pissy/forgiveness Code o’ Conduct.

I have the emotional retention of a sock. THIS MEANS THAT I can only stay mad/happy/contemplative/whatever for a limited amount of time before my brain/heart/whatever wanders on to some new thought/feeling. It generally works like this:

Interest in a particular topic = 10-15 minutes
Pissy rage = 1-3 days
Moments of Lust = 0.5-30 minutes
Love = 1 day-until I forget about you or fall in love with someone/thing else.

My Non-Romantic Life Partner Q knows this from experience, so if he makes me angry he just waits a few minutes/days, then calls and invites me for a dogwalk or dinner or something and he knows I’ll have forgotten that I’m mad at him.

That said, the only emotive instinct that is PERMANENT with me is whether someone is a “good person.” If you are cruel, sexist, or don’t stand up for someone when you should, then you suck and I won’t forget it.

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Charlie II – Tuesday, July 26, 2005 – 10:19 pm
Q and I saw Charlie & the Chocolate Factory tonight! It was my second time. It is so good. Still.

Busy Crazy Work Day
I worked straight through from 6:45 am – 4:30 pm. We were very busy — we didn’t even take lunch breaks, we just ordered in pizza and everyone who saw the pizza being delivered thought we were a bunch of slackass party animals when in truth some of us didn’t leave our cubicles all day. Over-worked, fairly-paid . . . it could be worse!

I love my job.

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Sexy New Hair – Wednesday, July 27, 2005 – 6:08 pm
Spencer did my hair today after work! It’s blonder and my roots are gone and it’s short again. YAY!!!

In Other YAY!!! News
We have a big table for tomorrow night’s Atomic Vaudeville show: Spencer, Jessie, Nathan, Q, Justin, Jessica, Christine . . . we are all very excited. And now I have pretty hair too.

Also, I’m working on a new script. It’s crazy how one idea comes right after another one is done. This new one is a love story, and it will incorporate the wee scripts I’ve shown you here in the past few months, with some extensive elaboration and character/plot development. It feels very good to have something to work on like this . . . longterm, creative, and all mine. I’ll post bits as they emerge . . .

Where 4 Art My Motivation?
I need to clean this apartment. Peter is shedding and there are dust bunnies everywhere. However, cleaning just isn’t that much fun. Especially when it’s sunny outside. Schmew.

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Confession of Unapologetic Vanity – July 28, 2005
I was walking to work someday last week and suddenly noticed that all the commuters driving by were staring at me. It was flattering, and very very uncomfortable. I walked a little more sexily.

Then it got weird. EVERYONE was staring, including women in minivans, and I wondered what the hell was wrong with me. Everything was tucked in properly, and the drivers were too far away to notice boogers or anything . . . so finally I turned around to make sure they weren’t staring at some monster behind me, and then I noticed that at 6:30 a.m. the sun is directly in line with the road, and so the drivers were looking to the side so as to avoid the glare of the sun.

It was kind of disappointing.

And yes, I am a gomer.

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Hungover For a Weekend o’ Sin – Friday, July 29, 2005
Not exactly hungover — I just feel a little queasy. I need to eat something. I remembered this morning that we’re going to Vancouver this weekend for FUN FUN FUN at Pride, and I was immediately relieved that I hadn’t thought of that last night because I wouldn’t have been able to sleep as well as I did. Excitement and whatnot.

So last night I fought a clown on stage. Last month, I made out with Spiderman. Atomic Vaudeville is so weird. Q was very brave and when Flora made him go onstage he did it with grace. She tied sheet music to his head and made him kneel, facing the audience, while she played a standup bass. The funniest part wasn’t her creepy lullabye, but Q’s facial expressions. I thought he was going to kill me for making him come.

Anyhoo, it was as crazy fun as ever and there are still two more shows, so if you want to go then do. Doors open at 7:30pm Friday & Saturday night, 1415 Broad Street in Victoria. Me & my troupe, meanwhile, will be enroute to a drunken sin binge in Vancouver.

Confession of Regret & Moment of Weakness
I admit, I’m terribly disappointed that my RockStar doesn’t love me anymore. Especially since I’m going to Vancouver this weekend and it would have been a perfect smoochie-rendezvous situation.

Q assures me that there will be many many beautiful men around us this weekend, and I know that’s true, but they will be gay so that’s not as comforting as it could be. Also, Spencer will be there and that will be lotsa fun, and we’re bringing Celeste because we can’t find a puppy sitter, so I’ll have her to snuggle with at the hotel.

Anyhoo.

Quote of the Night
It was something about pedophilia . . . I can’t remember. Really must write these things down . . .