Sometimes, occasion dictates that you must walk away from a cat--you might be going to the corner store, or the train station, or it might be a cat that you greeted on the sidewalk. Though it's sorely tempting, you must not look back as you walk away from the cat. Ever. Even if it's just to sneak a glance and see where the cat is in relation to yourself. The cat will take any glance--friendly, hostile, indifferent--as an invitation to follow. You might, in a fit of well-meaning, or later in a fit of exasperation, attempt to lecture the cat, and encourage it to stay where it is. You might even lead the cat back to that spot. All will be in vain. The cat will continue to follow, because you've paid attention to it. The type of attention doesn't matter--any attention at all will cause the cat to follow.
The only thing that will stop a cat from following you is ignoring it. For a while, it might trail behind you--it might feel as though you will never shake the cat--but provided you keep your gaze firmly ahead of you, it will eventually lose interest. This may take a long time, but it's possible to do--provided you can keep your eyes off the cat.
Sunday, May 17, 2009
Thursday, May 14, 2009
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
apparently it *is* rocket science...
Found this online, which, while ostensibly about a particular scientific concept, fits life at this moment with comical beauty:
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
to sleep, perchance to not-think
Am doing relatively well, overall, what with knitting pasties, hanging with Mellificent, and fighting a cold, but I'm tired of thinking. My brain is weary. Sadly, 8:30 seems terribly early for bed. Heh...tea and pornography, anyone? Oh, right. I don't have any of option 2 floating around in my monk-level-chaste apartment. Yarn porn it is, then.
Monday, May 11, 2009
Sunday, May 10, 2009
musings
My brother and I split the cost of dinner. He paid with his credit card; I gave him $60--all the cash I had. Mum offered to loan me $5 so I could get a coffee en route to work tomorrow, freeing me up to hit the bank later in the day; I said I'd pay her back the next time I saw her. My brother started telling mum that she should never give either of us money; that we didn't need it, and that neither he nor I would ever ask her for money. I protested that we loaned small amounts like this back and forth all the time. He looked directly at me and said "You have more money than she does," as though I'd never actually pay her back and my borrowing $5 for the sake of convenience was reprehensible. At that point, it didn't matter that he had a chip on his shoulder. I felt about an inch high, and about to burst into tears. I took the money back out of my wallet, and as I let it float back onto the table, declaring that I was going to the bank, he accused me of being spiteful. I left. I didn't know what else to say, since he'd declared this wasn't the time to talk about this.
I'm trying really hard to figure out what I could have done differently, short of not borrowing $5 from mum in the first place, which really didn't feel unreasonable to me. We all have issues, but why does it have to end up being so poisonous, with me spiralling into feeling like a shitty excuse for a human being, and my brother feeling self-righteous and unable to see that maybe he's channelling his anger at bigger issues into a tiny thing?
I feel as though we're never going to be able to connect. This was such a little thing in the grand scheme of things, and yet I don't know if I'll ever feel able to address it with him. Short of completely sorting my life out, becoming financially solvent and changing my personality so I don't withdraw/obsess/get depressed, I don't know if there's anything I can do to be good enough in his eyes.
I wish I could let it roll off my back, but I can't.
I'm trying really hard to figure out what I could have done differently, short of not borrowing $5 from mum in the first place, which really didn't feel unreasonable to me. We all have issues, but why does it have to end up being so poisonous, with me spiralling into feeling like a shitty excuse for a human being, and my brother feeling self-righteous and unable to see that maybe he's channelling his anger at bigger issues into a tiny thing?
I feel as though we're never going to be able to connect. This was such a little thing in the grand scheme of things, and yet I don't know if I'll ever feel able to address it with him. Short of completely sorting my life out, becoming financially solvent and changing my personality so I don't withdraw/obsess/get depressed, I don't know if there's anything I can do to be good enough in his eyes.
I wish I could let it roll off my back, but I can't.
Thursday, May 07, 2009
hmh...so much for dire prophecies of angst.
I'm actually feeling pretty good...though I've likely cursed myself by saying so.
Work's been rather productive, though purely from the perspective of self-reflection. You can do a whole lotta navel-gazing with 8 hours unsullied by actual things to do. That said, I'd dearly love to do a whole lotta under-desk sleeping right about now. But I will not. I mean, if I did, I'd miss cake at 3 p.m. And I'm all about cake.
My design-m'own-sweater is progressing...though, I hasten to add, not at work--even I have limits.
Have declared my complete lack of interest in being a comet, and am feeling peaceful about that.
After tearing apart just about every as-yet-unpacked box in my place last night, I sat under my computer desk and chewed on my arm at my failure to find my Oblivion discs. After reading Living in Oblivion in its entirety, I'm jonesing for a serious hit of game. I'd forgotten how beautiful it is. Now then...do I pick up where I left off with an old character, or start a new one? Hmmm. Best start thinking of names now, since it takes me a painfully long time, made even more painful when I'm torn between wanting to play and wanting to come up with something good and staring at the screen. But if I'm going to spend potentially hundreds of hours with whoever-it-is, then dammit, a Name They Shall Have (tm).
A pair of blue sneakers passed me on the sidewalk last night, and strangely, they made me smile.
Impending events: Drunken Knitters on Friday (hooray!), and the Balloonacy Cabaret on Saturday with my superintendent and his girlfriend (hooray!).
So the angst may well rear its head, but right now, I'm muddling along in good spirits. How long has it been since I've been able to say that?? Go me.
Work's been rather productive, though purely from the perspective of self-reflection. You can do a whole lotta navel-gazing with 8 hours unsullied by actual things to do. That said, I'd dearly love to do a whole lotta under-desk sleeping right about now. But I will not. I mean, if I did, I'd miss cake at 3 p.m. And I'm all about cake.
My design-m'own-sweater is progressing...though, I hasten to add, not at work--even I have limits.
Have declared my complete lack of interest in being a comet, and am feeling peaceful about that.
After tearing apart just about every as-yet-unpacked box in my place last night, I sat under my computer desk and chewed on my arm at my failure to find my Oblivion discs. After reading Living in Oblivion in its entirety, I'm jonesing for a serious hit of game. I'd forgotten how beautiful it is. Now then...do I pick up where I left off with an old character, or start a new one? Hmmm. Best start thinking of names now, since it takes me a painfully long time, made even more painful when I'm torn between wanting to play and wanting to come up with something good and staring at the screen. But if I'm going to spend potentially hundreds of hours with whoever-it-is, then dammit, a Name They Shall Have (tm).
A pair of blue sneakers passed me on the sidewalk last night, and strangely, they made me smile.
Impending events: Drunken Knitters on Friday (hooray!), and the Balloonacy Cabaret on Saturday with my superintendent and his girlfriend (hooray!).
So the angst may well rear its head, but right now, I'm muddling along in good spirits. How long has it been since I've been able to say that?? Go me.
Tuesday, May 05, 2009
my life is a dark pit of darkness
I can feel my hormones asserting themselves for their occasional orgy of the insane. I will fight to remain logical—fight as hard as I can—but I can feel the paranoia sneaking in. And the despair. Oh, the despair. Dark pit of darkness, indeed. Anne Gwish knew well of what she spoke. It’s like watching a black tide rising around me, closing above my head, and while I’m aware of it, it’s hard—so hard—to refuse that negativity.
In a way, it’s akin to the sensation of being drunk—my observer-mind (that little core piece of you that remains compos mentis throughout) is there and functioning, but can’t assert itself enough to really affect what’s going on. At least this time I feel a little more together—but still. There’s a lot to overwhelm me if I let it. Dammit. I do. not. want. to let it. In fact, perhaps I'll experiment and turn it on itself and see what happens...
Another analogy that’s just come to me is that of a prisoner (my rational mind) in a cell, guarded by a raging, paranoid fundamentalist (my emotions, hopped up on a deadly hormonal/biochemical cocktail). It’s well-nigh impossible to reason with it; it parses every nuance of every exchange, every thought (which I’m wont to do anyway), but logic just does not factor into the equation.
So if anyone has an exchange with a more-manic-than-usual, raving lunatic wearing my guise, please excuse me as best you can.
I’ll see you on the other side.
In a way, it’s akin to the sensation of being drunk—my observer-mind (that little core piece of you that remains compos mentis throughout) is there and functioning, but can’t assert itself enough to really affect what’s going on. At least this time I feel a little more together—but still. There’s a lot to overwhelm me if I let it. Dammit. I do. not. want. to let it. In fact, perhaps I'll experiment and turn it on itself and see what happens...
Another analogy that’s just come to me is that of a prisoner (my rational mind) in a cell, guarded by a raging, paranoid fundamentalist (my emotions, hopped up on a deadly hormonal/biochemical cocktail). It’s well-nigh impossible to reason with it; it parses every nuance of every exchange, every thought (which I’m wont to do anyway), but logic just does not factor into the equation.
So if anyone has an exchange with a more-manic-than-usual, raving lunatic wearing my guise, please excuse me as best you can.
I’ll see you on the other side.
Monday, May 04, 2009
here I am! ...kinda
Still working on getting a complete pic, but here's a teaser fo' yiz'. Thanks Tim!
p.s. ...is it just me, or does my left eye (on yr right) look ever-so-slightly insane? Thinks to self in inside voice, see? I really am half-mad...
p.s. ...is it just me, or does my left eye (on yr right) look ever-so-slightly insane? Thinks to self in inside voice, see? I really am half-mad...
vectors
These are only half-formed thoughts, but I’m pensive enough about them that I thought they were worth committing to the ether.
I’m different from your average person (whatever that means). I mean, yes, we’re all unique, but I do believe that, in our outward presentation at least, some of us are more unique than others, whether by accident or design.
Maybe it’s like vectors: We have common vectors—shared points of personality, belief, behaviour, interest, pop culture norms, etc.—but some of us share more of those common vectors than others. And some of us join up with only a few of the more common ones, but have whole separate constellations of vectors besides, that reach off into space, completely apart from the familiar points. We’ll all have our own vectors, of course, but maybe some of us have more than others.
Sometimes I think I have whole solar systems that stand alone. I despaired—despair, sometimes—of ever finding anyone whose vectors overlap sufficiently with my own…or whose are even visible from my own constellation with a telescope...or who’s able to see enough of mine via their own telescope to actually see me.
…but this doesn’t mean that I should limit myself & just go with someone because they are, for a time, all that’s there. That’s where I was at earlier this year. Despair can make us do stupid, damaging things. I was in danger of gracing someone with my presence who, when it comes down to it, has little if any interest in me, in my mind, my feelings, or my life. To them, I’m nothing but a shooting star with a nice tail that they still are firmly confident that they can catch. They can’t and don’t want to see that I’m much more than a sparkly comet.
And yet I was considering the pretence of being nothing more than a chunk of rock, burning out and disintegrating, because my despair at being recognised as anything more was that great, that all-encompassing.
Thanks to some deeply welcome perspective from a few sources, I’m now spreading out again into my vectors, inhabiting more of my constellations, contemplating the exploration of parts of my star systems that, until now, I’ve ignored. And recognising, once again, the vectors that I do share with others out there in the universe, whether they’re physically here or out there in the ether.
Ultimately, this is a personal equation to which I hold the ultimate solution (insofar as there is one!), but I’m so grateful for those that have contributed—and do contribute—to the calculations.
Thank you, from the ends of my earth.
I’m different from your average person (whatever that means). I mean, yes, we’re all unique, but I do believe that, in our outward presentation at least, some of us are more unique than others, whether by accident or design.
Maybe it’s like vectors: We have common vectors—shared points of personality, belief, behaviour, interest, pop culture norms, etc.—but some of us share more of those common vectors than others. And some of us join up with only a few of the more common ones, but have whole separate constellations of vectors besides, that reach off into space, completely apart from the familiar points. We’ll all have our own vectors, of course, but maybe some of us have more than others.
Sometimes I think I have whole solar systems that stand alone. I despaired—despair, sometimes—of ever finding anyone whose vectors overlap sufficiently with my own…or whose are even visible from my own constellation with a telescope...or who’s able to see enough of mine via their own telescope to actually see me.
…but this doesn’t mean that I should limit myself & just go with someone because they are, for a time, all that’s there. That’s where I was at earlier this year. Despair can make us do stupid, damaging things. I was in danger of gracing someone with my presence who, when it comes down to it, has little if any interest in me, in my mind, my feelings, or my life. To them, I’m nothing but a shooting star with a nice tail that they still are firmly confident that they can catch. They can’t and don’t want to see that I’m much more than a sparkly comet.
And yet I was considering the pretence of being nothing more than a chunk of rock, burning out and disintegrating, because my despair at being recognised as anything more was that great, that all-encompassing.
Thanks to some deeply welcome perspective from a few sources, I’m now spreading out again into my vectors, inhabiting more of my constellations, contemplating the exploration of parts of my star systems that, until now, I’ve ignored. And recognising, once again, the vectors that I do share with others out there in the universe, whether they’re physically here or out there in the ether.
Ultimately, this is a personal equation to which I hold the ultimate solution (insofar as there is one!), but I’m so grateful for those that have contributed—and do contribute—to the calculations.
Thank you, from the ends of my earth.
Sunday, May 03, 2009
why I LOVE my city
Decided that, as a single nerd-girl on a Sat night, I should go to Sonic Boom and buy CDs. Which I did--a Smaug-sized haul, encompassing everything from Pure and the Northern Pikes to LL Cool J and Whodini.
En route to Spadina, eager to get home and bliss out down memory lane, I encountered a crowd on the sidewalk, and assumed it was a bizarrely disorganised queue for a new club...until I discovered they were listening to a band...performing from the back of a Budget cube van.
I was going to listen for a bit then wander on, but ultimately I spent about an hour and a half in the chilly evening, mesmerised, delighted, and dancing with a crowd of strangers to the Calrizians and the Slaxx (the former surf, and the latter bluesy rock). It was a priceless, priceless piece of wonderfulness, just watching people looking shocked, walking up and peering in to discover there actually was a drummer back there, then grinning, stopping, listening, whipping out camera phones, dancing, talking to strangers about how cool this was...drivers going by on Bloor, slowing down, rolling down windows, rubbernecking, honking, and driving away cheering. Cyclists pulling up, people running down the street to see if it really, really was happening like someone had said...
One of the drummers told me they'd rented the van for something else, then decided to do this at midnight last night, on a whim. They're playing a venue next week somewhere, and somewhere else the week after that. I do believe I may just go.
After the show, I asked if they had any openings for groupies.
Sometimes, I love this city so very, very much. Gorgeous, gorgeous night.
En route to Spadina, eager to get home and bliss out down memory lane, I encountered a crowd on the sidewalk, and assumed it was a bizarrely disorganised queue for a new club...until I discovered they were listening to a band...performing from the back of a Budget cube van.
I was going to listen for a bit then wander on, but ultimately I spent about an hour and a half in the chilly evening, mesmerised, delighted, and dancing with a crowd of strangers to the Calrizians and the Slaxx (the former surf, and the latter bluesy rock). It was a priceless, priceless piece of wonderfulness, just watching people looking shocked, walking up and peering in to discover there actually was a drummer back there, then grinning, stopping, listening, whipping out camera phones, dancing, talking to strangers about how cool this was...drivers going by on Bloor, slowing down, rolling down windows, rubbernecking, honking, and driving away cheering. Cyclists pulling up, people running down the street to see if it really, really was happening like someone had said...
One of the drummers told me they'd rented the van for something else, then decided to do this at midnight last night, on a whim. They're playing a venue next week somewhere, and somewhere else the week after that. I do believe I may just go.
After the show, I asked if they had any openings for groupies.
Sometimes, I love this city so very, very much. Gorgeous, gorgeous night.
Saturday, May 02, 2009
bombshellified
My hair is now teh sex...or people wish it was, at least. I know it's 4 a.m. and that I live in an unusual neighbourhood and all, but 3 cars pulling over to await my approach in a 2-block span is a new record.
Richard did a great job, but he took off a lot. I trust him implicitly, and it's still long(ish), but I'm kinda afraid that once the straight blow-dry is overcome by the rampant curliness to follow, I'll end up looking like Einstein. On the bright side, pre-Raphaelite ringlets, here I come! I'm all about the romantical pre-Raphaelite thing.
Had a great night with Beth and Tim, talking, music-ing and philosophising. Using his patented sneak-attack camera approach, Tim managed to get a couple of pix of yours truly which even I think are kinda cute. Good job, man.
Richard did a great job, but he took off a lot. I trust him implicitly, and it's still long(ish), but I'm kinda afraid that once the straight blow-dry is overcome by the rampant curliness to follow, I'll end up looking like Einstein. On the bright side, pre-Raphaelite ringlets, here I come! I'm all about the romantical pre-Raphaelite thing.
Had a great night with Beth and Tim, talking, music-ing and philosophising. Using his patented sneak-attack camera approach, Tim managed to get a couple of pix of yours truly which even I think are kinda cute. Good job, man.
Friday, May 01, 2009
hair today, gone tomorrow...
Execrable pun. I find myself quasi-unexpectedly hurtling towards a haircut. Hurtling.
Hair appointments usually unfold like this with me:
Self: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 3 months later: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 5 months later: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 6 months later: Hi, Richard? I'm thinking I should come and see you sometime soon...
Self, 7 months later: Hey Richard--nice to see you. How many inches do we gotta hack off this time? (I should state here that Richard is very good, and would never do something so barbaric as "hack").
So this time, I finally got around to calling him yesterday after months of procrastination...and he called me back thismorningandI'mgoingtonightaieeeeeeeeee.
Haven't had time to mentally adjust to the idea. Must practice: Hi Richard--how's it going? Yeah, a lot's happened since I saw you last summer. So...how many inches do we gotta hack off this time...?
Hair appointments usually unfold like this with me:
Self: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 3 months later: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 5 months later: Hmmm. I should get a haircut soon.
Self, 6 months later: Hi, Richard? I'm thinking I should come and see you sometime soon...
Self, 7 months later: Hey Richard--nice to see you. How many inches do we gotta hack off this time? (I should state here that Richard is very good, and would never do something so barbaric as "hack").
So this time, I finally got around to calling him yesterday after months of procrastination...and he called me back thismorningandI'mgoingtonightaieeeeeeeeee.
Haven't had time to mentally adjust to the idea. Must practice: Hi Richard--how's it going? Yeah, a lot's happened since I saw you last summer. So...how many inches do we gotta hack off this time...?
Thursday, April 30, 2009
lyrics girl makes a discovery
It's her own blood that's much too dangerous--not her love.
Sometimes we hear what we need to at the time.
Sometimes we hear what we need to at the time.
srsly...there's a lot with which to have fun
Feels like karmaaaaaaa...
This is what I was just doing in my living room...insofar as one can crowdsurf solo, that is. Clint Poppie, I am still in complete adoration of your bullhorn-nature, even 15 years later.
I've got to get me out to another festival sometime. Preferably overseas. And now that my adrenaline's kicked into high gear, time to hit the sack with a load of books and a bullhorn with which to gentle myself to sleep.
I was reading my old blog from 2001-2005 tonight, and was pretty impressed with some of my turns of phrase, if I do say so myself. Though I was also kinda sad to see some of the same questions about feeling blocked coming up over and over again. I've really, really gotta do something about that.
But it made me realise that I'd like to try and get back into posting little inanities, tale-telling about weird life-incidents (more snippets of conversation, encounters with random strangers, etc.). Which means I've gotta get out more.
srsly.
This is what I was just doing in my living room...insofar as one can crowdsurf solo, that is. Clint Poppie, I am still in complete adoration of your bullhorn-nature, even 15 years later.
I've got to get me out to another festival sometime. Preferably overseas. And now that my adrenaline's kicked into high gear, time to hit the sack with a load of books and a bullhorn with which to gentle myself to sleep.
I was reading my old blog from 2001-2005 tonight, and was pretty impressed with some of my turns of phrase, if I do say so myself. Though I was also kinda sad to see some of the same questions about feeling blocked coming up over and over again. I've really, really gotta do something about that.
But it made me realise that I'd like to try and get back into posting little inanities, tale-telling about weird life-incidents (more snippets of conversation, encounters with random strangers, etc.). Which means I've gotta get out more.
srsly.
Tuesday, April 28, 2009
it's as funny as the devil...which is, frankly, pretty funny
This post contains feathers. Right here.
The beginning begins.
No end in sight.
I'm terrified, exhilarated, and looking forward...with trepidation. Roller coaster indeed.
There is world enough, and time.
The beginning begins.
No end in sight.
I'm terrified, exhilarated, and looking forward...with trepidation. Roller coaster indeed.
There is world enough, and time.
Monday, February 09, 2009
total 360!
Snippet of conversation overheard between 2 co-workers:
"...if you could have seen him when he was 17 compared to now? --Total 360. He's turned his life around."
Heh--so far around, it would seem, that "he" is still up to his old tricks.
Does my language snobbery make me a bad person? At the very least, it's a source of amusement (when it's not making me bang my head against the keyboard...).
"...if you could have seen him when he was 17 compared to now? --Total 360. He's turned his life around."
Heh--so far around, it would seem, that "he" is still up to his old tricks.
Does my language snobbery make me a bad person? At the very least, it's a source of amusement (when it's not making me bang my head against the keyboard...).
Monday, January 05, 2009
Marley and Robertson Davies
I met a pug named Marley last week. He was a happy guy, with that fantastic, lolling, curly-edged tongue characteristic of his breed. As I scratched his chest, he leaned against me, looking skyward, tongue still lolling. I scratched his ears, and his tongue bobbed from side to side like a metronome.
It's time to really acknowledge and record all these little delights.
"Happiness is always a by-product. It is probably a matter of temperament, and for anything I know it may be glandular. But it is not something that can be demanded from life, and if you are not happy you had better stop worrying about it and see what treasures you can pluck from your own brand of unhappiness." - Robertson Davies
It's time to really acknowledge and record all these little delights.
"Happiness is always a by-product. It is probably a matter of temperament, and for anything I know it may be glandular. But it is not something that can be demanded from life, and if you are not happy you had better stop worrying about it and see what treasures you can pluck from your own brand of unhappiness." - Robertson Davies
Monday, December 08, 2008
Tuesday, December 02, 2008
new space, new life
Nearly moved in. Potential for impending new kitten. Soon move will be over, unpacking can conclude, new routines can be developed. Just hoping my heart will eventually catch up.
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