hmmmmmmm

this is cool...

stats, facts, and quotes about what's going on in our world today.... almost like a slideshow of culture news, in quickly digested bits and pieces.

to buy (aka a list so i can remember what i would like)

- velvet pants, preferably in a jewel tone
- tweed suit
- black pencil skirt
- high heels in any colour other than black
- slouchy boots in chocolate brown or tan
- dress shirts
- dark, bootlegged jeans
- new checkered vans (black and white)
- shift dress
- cropped, Jackie O style jacket
- wooly tights

*sigh*.... fall shopping at its best

two stories about my dad and me:

1) my dad read an article in the paper yesterday morning about how the word "slut" is being taken "back" by females, who are now using it in a casual and friendly sense. i agreed with him, due to my proclivity of using it to greet friends, i.e. "s'up slut?". i told him it wasn't in a derogatory sense, but more like using the word as a funny joke, because obviously i know my friends won't be offended by it. he chewed on the idea for a little while, gave me a funny look, and went back to reading the paper. i thought the discussion had been closed until last night when i was leaving to watch She's The Man at Heather's house (which is a fantastic teen movie, by the by.... almost as good as Ten Things I Hate About You and better than Sleepover) and on my way out the door, I hear him chime out "See you later, slut!"

2) due to his shoulder surgery, my dad can't really use both hands to do anything, since his right arm is in a sling and almost completely immobilized. so today i had to mop the house, since we have hardwood floors and my parents are OCD about keeping the house clean. so i, being completely ridiculous, affected a pirate accent while i mopped the house, keeping it up for almost an hour, while my dad laughed more than i think i've seen him laugh in like, four years.

i swear, we should have our own reality show.

and you can use my skin/to bury secrets in

favourite memories of summer:
- having dad bring wild raspberries home
- the feeling of having the sun bake into your skin
- the kind of deep, dead sleep that comes with the humid weather
- rollerblading on freshly paved roads
- summer apples fresh from the backyard trees
- lazy lunches outside
- playing hide and seek late at night with the neighbourhood kids
- baseball games encompassing two front lawns and the street
- the scent of freshly mowed grass mixed with gasoline from the lawnmower
- sitting on the back porch, eating mangoes without a plate, with bare feet digging into the grass
- showering under the backyard hose
- white cotton nightgowns
- the sound of the upstairs overhead fan

just lay back down your pretty head

late night last night. anyone who really knows me, know that when i get to a certain point of inebriation it will prohibit me from sleeping more than a couple of hours during the night. i tend to stay up really late, and toss and turn and basically drive anyone that's in the same bed as me completely insane. There's this amazing feeling that i get when the sky starts turning blue and that's usually when i nap for a couple of blissful hours.

so we went out for brian's birthday on saturday, and i had one of those nights. stayed up super ridiculously late just talking with a friend. somehow we got onto the topic of love, and how it differs for boys and girls and taking a chance on people and risking getting hurt. and it kind of just made me see that you have to take that risk every time, because you can get over the pain, but it's really hard to get over the possibilities of "what if?" and i hate what ifs. it was just one of those amazing conversations that seem to happen once a year, and makes you want to be a better friend to that person because you see them in an entirely new light.

so, we meet again.

growing up, i was part of a duo. much like the best superheros and sidekicks, we stuck together at all times. she was short, i was tall. she had dark hair, i had blond. one set of brown eyes, one pair of blue.

and then somewhere along the way, a stupid fight happened maybe, or just a gradual drifting, or maybe we just got older, but the phone calls stopped and the hanging out together stopped until there was just the briefest of contact at neighbourly dinners and across the street waves to each other.

it's always a foreign notion to me; how you can know someone so well for so long, and then they become a stragner to you. there was probably a time where we could read each other's mind without thinking, and now i'm not even sure if she means what she says.

and there's a lot of relationships that i can think of where that's happened. but for every friend that's been lost along the way, i can think of one that stayed, of one i made an effort with to not lose that connection.

jeremiah bullfrog

one of the thing i love most about jeremy, other than his ability to make me laugh so hard that i consider peeing my pants just a little bit, is that i can be so brutally honest when i ask him any question and he will look at me, seriously considering it, and usually answer it. unless it's none of my business, in which case he will shoot me that look, and i will tell him it's none of my business. but i think that's only happened once, and every other time he tries to give me as honest and serious an answer as he possibly can.

life in transit

i think one of the hardest thing about being in your twenties is the fact that you finally have to figure out who you are, bones bared, without outside influences. growing up, your family plays a large role in formulating who you are, and then in adolescence it's your peer group who determine how you shape yourself. twenties though, i feel, is about looking inside and figuring out when it comes to you, what part is really you.

i've always felt a tiny bit disjointed from my family. not the melodramatic teenage sense of not-belonging-wishing-you-were-adopted part of alienation, but just rather the sense that no one in my family truly understands who i want to be, without their influence. that the direction that i'm going in isn't the one they wished for me, or that the way i'm going about it isn't the proper way. and i can talk and talk and talk about what i believe in, or what i want, but their minds aren't open enough to truly understand or accept it. don't get me wrong, i know they love me very much, and support me in any way that they possible can, but it almost always feels like they're going about it the wrong way and then everything gets all muddled in my brain after that point.

and i've slowly started to figure out the things i want for myself; i'm getting a better idea of the life that's taking shape,the places i want it to go, and the things i want to accomplish. it's a scary moment though, when you realize that the people you've looked up to for your entire life are simply human. it's one of the shortcomings, i think, that tear a lot of families (and relationships) apart: the reluctance to accept that the people that you love aren't perfect, that they make mistakes, and are just as messy and complicated as you are. and the trick to keeping them close by is realizing that, not holding it against them, accepting them for what they are, and figuring out everything for yourself. i realized a long time ago that no one is ever in your corner 100% of the time and when it comes down to it, it's every man for himself. i also realize that some would call that cynicism, but i feel that it's more realism. it's not meant with a sarcastic or bitter edge, just sort of quiet acceptance. because no one can read what's in your mind, and therefore no one can get the full experience of what you feel/think/believe.

if i wrote down every blog idea i've ever conceived, this would get updated at least twice a day. i had a cute, funny, bubbly one planned about boys and crushes and karma and ugly duckling revenge, but my thoughts got away from me this evening.

it's been a good past few days though. canada day came and went with the annual firework watching tradition, and now i'm tucked into ottawa life again for a week before going back to toronto. this transition is so much more difficult than moving to montreal; probably because i know this time it's permanent. but there's this giant sense of anticipation and exhiliration along with the scaryness that makes me so excited for the next few months. most of all i'm excited to start building a home. i loved montreal, but it was always a house to me, somewhere to crash at the end of the day. it was a hideaway and there were things that i loved about the house, but i'm super excited to have matching dishes, and a proper couch, and a queen bed, and a proper dining room table instead of eating on the couch, and a place to call my own.

phew. i suspect that's enough for tonight.