I'm mostly milk, pizza, and sometimes banana bread.
I've really got to eat more fruit...
I had a really good sleep and cuddled with Zak this morning. Then Fig hopped into bed with me after he left.
And Zak told me Pamela Anderson is going to be at Fan Expo? Weird.
I also got an email back about a job offer. Well, I thought it was an offer for a full time job...it seems now they want me to do a bunch of freelance stuff and then maybe offer me full time employment. I feel kind of mislead. I know everyone's "playing the game," but would it really kill people to just be upfront? Jeez...
My brother graduated from college yesterday! I got to hang out with his girlfriend at the ceremony, which was neat, she's really cool. But boy, it was kind of a crazy-busy day. Still, it was nice to hang out with Patrick.
I talked briefly with my mom, it was her birthday. Sounds like my other brother is still having a bit of trouble re-homing one of his cats (his girlfriend's allergies are getting really bad). I'll have to re-extend my offer to him...I certainly wouldn't mind having another cat in the place, even though it sucks for them to have to give them away.
I really love cats. I've always had them. My parents' cat, Wooshki, died when I was about 4. I think she was almost 20 years old or something crazy like that...but they had adopted another cat before that. I can't remember if Sher-Khan ran away before or after Wooshki passed away...then there was Dusty...then we got KC, and she had kittens really young (six of them!), and we kept two of them, Rufus and Shiva, and all four of them were around until after I moved for university. Now my mom has Ollie, and I guess my dad has kind of been adopted by a stray.
And now we have Fig.
In the mean time, we're keeping a vacancy open in case Finlay still needs to re-home Scully. But I still find myself occasionally browsing the SPCA website...
Heck, I used to always pretend I was a cat, even. Zak still sometimes calls me a cat. I guess the amount I sleep doesn't help...and all the milk I drink. Which reminds me, I need to go to the store and get some more. Can't really stand drinking my tea black...
I'm really proud of Patrick. I know he worked really hard, and he got such good grades! I still sometimes think about going to school, and Zak and I have been talking more seriously about it. I'd like to get my bachelor's...hmm...
It was really nice hanging out with Patrick. We can get along so well. I think that even though we're so different, our inner experiences make it really easy to relate to one another. Pretty much any time one of us is talking about something we struggle with, the other one is like, "Yeah, I know exactly what you mean." And it's fun to talk about funny things from our childhood, even though I tend to remember more than he does.
It was funny seeing some mild looks of surprise when he introduced me as his sister. We don't really look anything alike. I'm 5'2", and he's well over six feet. He cranes his head down when we take pictures together so that he can still fit in the frame. Ha. He's great. Sometimes he can be a little insensitive to peoples' emotions, but he never condemns them. Perhaps I have enough empathy and emotions for the both of us.
Oh well...maybe increasing my dose of zoloft will help.
I don't want to turn out my lamplight
Left with remnant glow.
I can't remember it well
Every time it leaves...
Didn't I feel different?
Didn't the words once said mean a little more?
I tried to self-sooth to protect,
But thoughts came unbidden.
Longing leaped from my chest and knuckles
with a soul of its own winding my shaking core...
I reach for the stuffed animal in the corner
I whisper, and I breathe, and I whimper.
If I love it enough, perhaps it will reciprocate.
I might give this lifeless thing
The hope I need.
Him closer to me.
Can he hear me?
Or am I alone in this, drifting quietly in this soft room
Wanting...a memory of childhood, a harmless thing with no free will...
He is warm from my touch, and for a moment he is real.
I touch, my skin swelling, and I can see once more in the dark...
I miss you.
I go on.
He announced he and my mom were getting a divorce two weeks before my wedding. I still don't really understand why, despite the explanations he gave me. I remember when he told me, I felt like I went on autopilot, robotic-calm and assurance turned on. Trying to give the appropriate response. I remember thinking how as a kid it was my biggest fear. When I was really young, my brothers told me that my parents might separate because I was such a "difficult" child. I learned years later that my dad, likely in a state of frustration and exhaustion, had told them that. Somehow, I had thought after moving away to university, we were out of the woods. I would no longer be there to put a strain on their relationship. They were together for over thirty years...he's bought a house in the same tiny town with his inheritance from my grandfather.
My dad was primarily in charge of homeschooling me until the eighth grade. I never really felt good enough for him. It's not like he didn't ever praise me, or offer me guidance...but it always came with a stinging criticism, or him eventually forgetting to help me with things like guitar lessons, or taking me to all the places that he said he would.
I feel like I don't really have a home to go to anymore. It's still there, of course, my Mom still lives there. But it's not the same. It just, quite frankly, feels like my whole childhood there was a lie. How can I go back? Knowing that all the hopes I had, all the time I believed I would have a place to come home to, all the memories I deluded myself into thinking were happy...it was all kind of devoid of meaning.
I know that they're both only human. But he still managed to hurt me in a bad way.
I still sometimes want to pretend none of it ever happened. Pretend I wasn't crying tears of sadness as much as joy on my wedding day, and that I'll be able to pull myself out of my depression now, get another job, get my life together, be a good wife...
And then of course, I worry about them. My mother, who can't handle her own emotions or other peoples' personal boundaries. My dad, who has Parkinson's, and can't even grasp what he's done wrong.
I want them to both be happy. I just don't understand why it meant having to put me through what feels like really unnecessary pain.
I've cried so much the past three months. I feel like I can't even cry about it anymore. I just feel bitter. I should be able to accept what's happened. I should be happy for them, for finally being able to get out of an unhappy relationship. I should be able to move on from the pain my dad put me through, growing up.
I should be a better daughter.
The thought of seeing them after all this pains me. It's hard enough talking to my mom, trying so hard to avoid certain subjects, hearing how hurt she is when I try to, for just a moment, express any of the hard things I'm going through.
And again, there's the blame and guilt. It's so hard to convince myself, even now, that it's not all my fault. It makes no sense. A six-year-old can't be responsible for their parents' relationship, and for that matter, a 25-year-old can't be either. But I spent so much of my life feeling responsible for keeping my family together. It's so hard not to feel, after all that time, that I haven't failed after all.
Why did he have to leave me with that?
I never really got to go to my university graduation ceremony, for multiple reasons. One of them was that I felt pretty certain no one I knew would come.
I feel like it would have been more meaningful than say, my high school graduation, though. You know, to achieve something that really mattered to me, that pointed me in the direction of the path I wanted.
Patrick's already got a job. But I think that his achievement still needs to be celebrated.
So Patrick, among the sea of your friends, I'll be looking out at you, and among the crowd of relatives, I'll be there, cheering you on! Congratulations!
THE PRESENTERS NAME: Nonni
DATING STATUS: Married to a cute Hobbit.
EYE COLOR: hazel-green.
HAIR COLOR: Dark brown.
NICKNAMES: Nonni, Nonnicat
SCREEN NAME(s): Nonnichan, violet_nose
BIRTHPLACE: Nakusp, BC
SCHOOL: I'd like to get a Bachelors...
FRIENDS: Eccentric, nice folks.
PIERCINGS: I've got earrings.
TATTOOS: I have a rose on my calf. Thinking about another one on my other leg...
BEDTIME: I don't have much of a concept of time, so...when Zak goes to bed.
PLACE TO LIVE: Somewhere kind of quiet.
NAMES OF KIDS: Rose and Eric.
JOB: I want to write stories. And make things. And draw things. And write poetry.
HAVE YOU EVER
BROKEN THE LAW: Technically...yes.
RAN AWAY: Yes.
BROKEN A BONE: Nope.
CHEATED ON A TEST: I don't think so...
PLAYED STRIP POKER: Nope
HAD AN EMERGENCY: When I was an infant, I fell and cut my forehead.
DO YOU BELIEVE IN...
LOVE AT FIRST SIGHT: Yeah, though I wouldn't say it's happened to me personally.
GOD: In my own way.
UNICORNS: In the unconventional sense.
ALIENS: Yeah, probably.
HOROSCOPES: No, but I enjoy them just the same.
GHOSTS: Yeah, maybe.
HEAVEN: I WANT to.
HELL: I DON'T want to.
YOURSELF: I'm working on it...so, yeah, I guess so.
ABORTION: Well...not for myself.
LIFE AFTER DEATH: Why not?
PAST LIVES: No, but they're also fun.
WHICH IS BETTER
COKE OR PEPSI: Neither
DEAF OR BLIND: Ughhh...I mean, either way I could still technically write. But they both sound horrible for me personally.
TV OR RADIO: Radio.
ONE PILLOW OR TWO: One.
NIKE, ADIDAS, OR REEBOK: Canvas sneakers, and high heeled sandals. I'm not that into brands.
NIGHT OR DAY: Night
MOON OR SUN: The moon
THE OPPOSITE SEX
WHAT DO YOU NOTICE FIRST: The way they talk.
MUST-HAVE PERSONALITY TRAITS: Sweet, relatively well-groomed, empathetic, and honest.
STRAIGHT OR CURLY HAIR: I don't really have a preference.
SHORT OR LONG HAIR: Either one.
HATE MOST ABOUT THEM: The misogyny.
WHO HAS IT EASIER: I take it on a case-by-case basis.
WHO CAUGHT YOUR EYE RECENTLY?: The guy playing the hurdy gurdy in the corner.
WHEN WAS THE LAST TIME YOU...
CRIED: A couple days ago.
WHEN AND WITH WHO DID YOU RECENTLY HAVE THE BEST TIME WITH?
Oh, it's been a while...
KISSED SOMEONE: Zak could tell you.
READ A BOOK: Last night I read scary stories to Zak.
DANCED/SANG: Probably this afternoon.
DROVE: Like...about 8 years ago...
We went and got buns today at the bakery. I also got a London fog.
I wore a skirt, too, which tends to lift up my mood a bit.
I just spent the day with Zak, folding laundry, and took a too-long nap, and played with Fig.
Then we watched Room.
And then I wrote that poem.
Why do I love too many things?
The dust on the book pages...
I brush them against my nose and cheeks.
And think of the lives lived within.
All hands I could Touch.
All the breaths I could smell.
All the bodies I could hold.
The laughter I could listen to.
What would your kisses
have been like?
Would you have been kind, generous?
Would you treat me
the way you treat others?
Would you have smiled,
when you spoke to me?
Could we have been friends?
Maybe you could have learned to love me
What I always wanted to give
Unsure of what I had
My heart hungering.
I talk to my reflection.
She is confused.
She offers every day.
A new piece of her.
Something for me to hold onto.
But she waits on the other side
Wondering when I'll come round.
She mimics me, never mocking.
She plays with her face,
Her voice is quieter
I point to the few things.
and resonant and comprehending.
Where do they go
Where did they come from?
And where am I now,
They might wonder.
They may never know where she went.
Where she lies sleepless
reaching for the faceless voices
In their dreams.
The old dreams take her to old places
All the familiar spaces
where do they come from?
And where do they go?
Will we ever meet again?
I've been feeling pretty zonked out lately. Finally starting to feel a bit better now...