That’s what my brain feels like tonight. Even searching for a quote to plug into this box seems like too much work tonight. I feel very, very confused. Maybe sleeping all day is what did it. Or maybe I mixed up my drugs or took the wrong dosage this weekend in my general state of confusion? Doubt it, but could be. Never know. I do seem to recall falling over a couple of times yesterday, which was a little scary but also pretty exciting as reminded me of my days of too much drinking and toking when I’d start falling all over myself and laugh hysterically and then eventually make my way to the can to pray to the porcelain god and sometimes eventually pass out right there and then too. Oh yes. Those were the good old days. We’ll have none of that tonight hopefully. I'll just be extra careful while taking my shower in a moment and make sure I don’t fall out of the bathtub (no wonder I hate taking showers so much lately). Then I have to take the recycling down before lights out, so if I manage not to tumble down the stairs I’ll consider this to have been a pretty ok day after all. Wish me luck.
May 31, 2009
May 30, 2009
Thou Shalt Not Kill
“Ant societies have division of labour, communication between individuals, and an ability to solve complex problems. These parallels with human societies have long been an inspiration and subject of study.”
While I believe in animal rights and have made symbolic gestures here and there, I wouldn’t go as far as saying I’m an activist. I just happen to like animals, just about every kind of animal, a whole lot. I’ve never stopped to ask myself why it is I feel such a strong connection to the animal world. It’s just always been an evidence to me that “animals are people too”. As a child, I remember learning about ants and their sophisticated social structures. This was before I learned the biological distinctions between animals and insects, so ants were also like people to me, only even smaller. While I tend to be terrified of bugs and scream like a ninny when I see one (with the exception of spiders, oddly enough), ants in my mind are too clever to be thrown in with all the other bugs we think are better off dead.
They showed up here bright and early with the very first stirrings of spring about three years ago. They didn’t bother me at first. They didn’t make too much of a mess of things. They weren’t invasive, they just sent out small teams and hung out in the kitchen, where you’d expect to see them. It certainly had not crossed my mind that they were a “problem” or that something should be done about them until someone came over one day and mentioned that they were probably carpenter ants and they could do a lot of damage. Up until then I hadn’t really noticed them, nor had Fritz & Mimi, who can’t be bothered to hunt them down for snacks (Mimi’s thing is a live moth—a rare delicacy). This year I find the ants are getting a little bit too bold to my liking. Not that there are more of them, I don’t think, however: ants across my pillow, ants finding their way to my fingertips (?!), ants in the kitchen, where you’d expect them to be, but also ants exploring the living room, the bathroom, the dining room, and worst of all, ants constantly just under my feet (don’t they realize I’m going out of my way to not kill them?)
I finally spoke to my landlord about the ant situation and the solution was hand delivered to me just yesterday. While the traps are supposedly safe for children, do not leave unattended, as may be harmful to pets, it said. I was curious about how the traps worked exactly and the brief explanation, which never mentioned the word poison, said something about the ants visiting the traps and then going back to their colony which gets quickly decimated. Oh. I’ve hidden the package away where the cats can’t get to it. I watch the ants go back and forth. Oddly enough, they never seem to be carrying anything. At that size they could probably each make off with major loot. Like an apple or a shoe. A couple of books even, if they’re into literature (you never know). So far nothing seems to be missing. I’ll find a way to let them know they’ve outstayed their welcome. But murder on that kind of scale isn’t something that would sit well with me.
May 29, 2009
Torpor, Coma, Languor, Lassitude, Stupor, Hebetude...
There was this ongoing dream while I slept the very few hours I had last night in which I was so tired and so weak I felt quite literally like a ragdoll. I was at a friend’s place passed out flat on my face in the middle of the living room floor, on which a white duvet, sheet and pillow had been deposited (by whom?) as a makeshift bed for me. When came the following morning, I opened my eyes and saw light filling the room and all was white at first, and then I started noticing that there were toys and cats, toys that were cats and cats that were toys scampering around the floor, peacefully napping on various surfaces, hiding in the corners, climbing all over me. I wanted to wake up so I could further investigate these stange mutant-like creatures, but was overwhelmed by the strong pull of Morpheus, who refused to release me from his grip. I wavered between this dreamy consciousness and what seemed like a morphine-induced coma (I can only imagine, having not actually ever taken morphine). By midday my friend’s boyfriend came into the room, his living room to listen to music, his music, and work on his computer (modern art projects combining paintings with musical compositions). Somehow, I knew that my friend had left the house and that we were alone together and I also knew that he wanted to do laundry, play his music louder and invite friends over. I could feel he was annoyed with me lying there like a corpse and refusing to budge. I felt ashamed as the sudden realization that I was attracted to him, had always been attracted to him, dawned on me now. More than anything, I wanted to get up and out of the way, but I could barely stay conscious long enough to formulate the thought before nodding back down on my face in that seemingly drug-induced torpor.
When a dog started barking right next to me, it took me a long time to come to, and opening my eyes I did not recognize my surroundings and nodded back to unconsciousness. But the barking persisted and I awoke just enough to realize the sound was coming from my alarm in “real” life and was not yet another part of that ongoing hypnotic, soporific dream. As I grew conscious of my tangible body, I understood I was feeling exactly the way I had in my dream, with the addition of a throbbing headache and the distinct feeling that a truck had rolled over my body (several times and from different directions). I decided the best place for me to spend the next few hours was precisely where I was laying.
I might have felt guilty about sleeping through what should have been walk up hill #1, then bus ride, then walk up hill #2, then first workshop, then interview with med student, then lunch, followed by a relaxation session, then 40 minute walk back home. But I had a vague memory that during a moment of semi-consciousness I had picked up the phone to alert them to the fact that I was unable to come in today. The words came with difficulty and I remember slurring out each syllable as my mind kept drifting into a different plane.
A voice inside me said “Rest Now” very gently and yet with full authority and then a yellow-tinged 16 mm documentary film featuring the last 3 days played itself in my head. So much... so much... talking. Listening. Interacting. Moving. Walking. Climbing. Thinking. Questioning. Absorbing. Rest Now, the voice said again. So I did.
A mystery remains: what did the sleeping self in my dream dream about?
Memory Trip-Hoppin’
Trip hop is a music genre also known as the Bristol sound. The trip hop description was applied to the musical trend in the mid-1990s of downtempo electronic music that grew out of England’s hip hop and house scenes. It is often rejected as a term by those artists to whom it is applied. [...] Trip hop gained notice via popular artists such as Massive Attack, Portishead, Tricky, [and] Thievery Corporation [among others]. Massive Attack’s first album Blue Lines in 1991, is often seen as the first manifestation of the “Bristol hip hop movement”.
What I’ve been doing so far today: listening to music, watching music videos, surfing and blogging. A great way to spend the the day in nasty rainy weather. When one of my favourite Portishead (pronounced Portiss-head and not Portish-ead as some would have it) songs came on, it prompted me to watch a bunch of their previously unseen video clips. When I saw the video for All Mine from their self-titled second album Portishead (1997) I was so impressed with it—that heartrending young girl mouthing the lyrics in what seems like a live taping from the 60’s doesn’t leave anyone indifferent I’m sure—that it prompted me to write the following comment:
From the first, I was instantly enamored with Portishead’s sound, which includes textured electronic soundscapes combined with masterful scratching—on the Roseland NYC Live album, recorded during the eponymous one-off performance, they also featured strings by the New York Philharmonic orchestra, to great effect I might add—and of course Beth Gibbons’s signature ethereal, heartbreaking delivery of songs featuring poetic, slightly mysterious lyrics. this then new style of music they had created, grabbed my heart and soul and from that moment on I felt compelled to play Portishead, Massive Attack, and Tricky (to name just those three) over and over and over again.
It didn’t hurt that I was in my mid-twenties and a full-blown pothead. After all, this music which created by and for 420-aware individuals, so it was bound to appeal to me. In fact, I had to take a long break from Trip Hop when I decided to quit my pot habit once and for all, which took several years of trial and error. It had become a powerful trigger for me and without fail, hearing just the first few notes of any song was enough to send me into a massive unbearable craving (so much for the theory that pot isn’t addictive). It also brought back memories of an exciting time filled with plenty of new discoveries, yes, but also plenty of heartbreak and drama. This included grappling with my constant mood swings for which I had no diagnosis, no name nor qualified support yet. So much time has passed—I can’t say how strange that feels—but I can finally listen to Trip Hop music and enjoy it for it’s own sake, without being immediately plunged into the past and that mixed bag of memories. Perhaps more importantly, it no longer compels me to seek out my old 420 connections so I can “be at one” with the music. The music itself is trippy enough as it is. And besides, I think all that THC has somehow binded itself to me on a molecular level. It’s the cheapest and most legal way to do get high. Too bad I can’t patent it somehow, I’d surely make a fortune.
Can You Train Your Goat to Do THIS??
Like a Goat on a Wire*...
* think Leonard Cohen’s Bird on a Wire
(Thanks P)
We Wuv You Mama!
I wuv you Fwitz!
T’was a long long day filled with physical activity, mental stimulation, chores and tasks and fun projects. All this on just four hours of sleep. Not optimal, no. But we’re working on it. Just six minutes ago, I sat myself down to wind down in front of the boob tube expecting one of my high octane cop shows but it so happens the spelling bee championship is going overtime, so I’m watching that instead. It’s actually both exciting and wildly interesting... and there’s plenty of suspense too. I’m taking shots at spelling out the words before these little geniuses do and so far I’m faring not too badly considering I haven’t pored over dozens of dictionaries like these kids—and someone else I know quite well (hi mum)—and I have a so-so recall memory for words. Oh—hang on—and here we have it: (announcer) AND THE WINNER IS...Kavya Shivashankar! There. I’m sure this brilliant young lady will go places. Breaking news, right here on From Smiler, With Love!
Other than that, I got quite the nice surprise getting home when I found Fritz sitting just behind Mimi by the entrance this afternoon, and when I tried to pet him, not only did he not run away, but he actually seemed to enjoy it too! Then he let me pick him up, and then he started purring—something I haven’t heard from him in ages!—then the ritualistic face and hair licking followed (something I’m not particularly fond of but I put up with it for a bit because this is Fritz’s ultimate token of affection). I tried pushing the envelope a little bit and went as far as brushing him too and wouldn’t you know it, he was actually enjoying himself! And purring! AGAIN! I’m not even mentioning Mimi because she was being her usual charming & lovely self—which doesn’t go unnoticed mind you—but Fritz’s DOA (display of affection) was an amazing and... yes, newsworthy breakthrough today.
To all you non cat lovers: two days in a row with the kittie stuff... I know, and I coulda blogged about lotsa other things because God only knows there’s plenty going on in that head of mine since I’ve started going to my day program but this’ll have to do for today (that and did you check out the previous post? Worth the 98 seconds for sure!
Voilà! There’ll be more bits and morsels as we go along... of course.
Pics by Smiler using iPhone with QuadPhoto App
Have a Drink on Me :-)
My uncle Pini from Israel (hi Pini!) sent me this series of commercials this week—Wait! Don’t go away!—it took a while for me to find that extra little moment to view them but when I saw what I’d been missing—and following a fit of hysterical silent giggling, I just HAD to share. Hee-larious.
May 28, 2009
This Was My Day
Even Fritz deigned to make an appearance.
Tired doesn’t really cover it. They way I’m feeling right now is more like jet lagged. The main difference being that when I’m just plain tired, I’m in a bad mood and cranky, can’t really think straight, & don’t want to even consider doing anything that can’t be put off to another day. Whereas with jet lag, I’m beyond exhausted, yes, but my mood is better and I also feel switched on, wanting to do a bunch of things that could be done the next day (like visiting the Louvre when arriving in Paris or writing this blog post when it’s way past my new bed time!)
used to be a Victorian mansion. Most of it was gutted and looks
like any dreary old hospital, but this old library tucked away
in a corner. It no longer houses books and is used as an office
but at least they’re not removing any of the original cabinetry.
The morning was mostly spent filling a questionnaire and chatting with a fellow cat lover, but the other participants were either helping out in the kitchen to prepare our lunch (BBQ burgers and hot dogs with salads) or in the workshop doing various arts and crafts projects (those are the Wednesday morning activities). There was Rob and Robert heading the workshop and Rob spoke to me at length and with great enthusiasm about wood burning as a fun project to do so I was much relieved to find out they also have pottery (including an oven and glazes), tile work, sewing, and many craft projects. Basically each person chooses what they want to work on (can be drawing & painting too) and can ask for guidance if needed. When I sampled the lunch, I was strongly reminded of how important it is to choose the best quality of products. Something I’ve always taken for granted at home.
a long row of purple irises caught my eye. Couldn’t decide between the impressionist or figurative version, so here they are both.
After School, the afternoon was filled with all kinds of mostly pleasant activities. Stopped over at my favourite café on Victoria street after therapy and read an Anna Gavalda short story (she’s a real pleasure to read), then headed home where I prepared a few packages to ship, then dropped them off at the post office. Then on my way home, decided to visit the local tanning salon* to work on getting a little base (just enough so I’ll have “normal” skin colour as opposed to a blue/green/purple tinge from extreme lack of sun).
Meet Jackie.
Jackie has been working in this neighborhood tanning salon for 15 years. I’ve been a sporadic customer over the past 10 years and she has ALWAYS had the same look: the platinum white hair with the fringe (with or without roots showing), the dark dark dark orange tan, the neon orange lipstick, the long long neon red nails, a designer outfit (or something equally stylish) purchased at the Salvation Army. Really interesting lady. We chatted for close to 2 hours & I finally had to end it at the stairwell where I had my coat on and umbrella at the ready as was almost passing out from hunger. Now that I’ve purchased a package deal so I can go on weekly visits, I don’t know how I’ll ever manage to have just a “quick” tanning session...
& steals my heart yet again
When I got home, Mimi started meowing her heart out as she was waiting for me to open the 2nd door. Meowing her heart out more than ever before, that is. We’ve never been apart for this long since I adopted her. I managed to grab my iPhone to capture her enthusiasm for you all to see.
Now I’m off to bed. After I take care of a couple more little things. But I’ll be sleeping soon (I hope).
*Fully aware of the health risks.
May 26, 2009
On Self-Esteem
Somehow I’m mustering up the energy to put this post together but I’m completely exhausted right now and want nothing more than my bed, pillow and teddy bear. Up since 7:30 a.m. Just walking up the hill to make it to the bus on time and then walking up another hill to get to the hospital was quite a workout this morning. I mostly sat with a med student and regaled her with my own little collection of horror stories as part of the admission process. Then I sat in with the group for a class on self-esteem. I said my self-esteem seems to be tied in with my weight, i.e. the lighter I am the more I like myself and vice-versa and apologized because I know it sounds so shallow and I should be beyond that by now. But then I got a chance to think about in from a different angle and had the opportunity to say that one of the reasons I feel happier and have more self-esteem when I’m lighter is that—aside from the fact that I like what I see in the mirror—a lot of the things I do to get myself there are conducive to a healthy body and a healthy mind, like eating really well and doing exercise and yoga every day and drinking my water and so on.
Read outside during lunch. Decided I can’t stand John Banville’s The Sea anymore even if it was a booker prize, so gave up on it at page 103 (out of 195). That’s more than halfway already but the first half was tedious enough for me, thanks.
Stopped by The Word and picked up a new stack of books which is now sitting on the floor for lack of a better place to put them.
And generally speaking just did this that and the other. Like buy Hanky Panky (expensive) underwear at Holt’s as a special treat. Nothing special really. Tomorrow have to do it all over again. Minus the shopping because as we know that can quickly get out of control.
Illustration: Varga Girl by Alberto Vargas
Flight of the Conchords
Flight of the Conchords is a truly funny TV show from New Zealand about these two guys Bret and Jermaine who form a band called... Flight of the Conchords and how they’re trying to make it big in New York City. The big joke is that their music and lyrics are just ridiculously awful and their manager—also from New Zealand—is this guy with bad hair who wears beige suits and acts like he’s au courant when he’s in fact a clueless loser, though Bret and Jermaine don’t seem to realize it. It took me a while to figure out what the show is about, because ultimately, it’s a show about nothing, just these ridiculous situations and strange relationships between them and other regular cast members, with a couple of songs thrown in of course. In one epidsode I saw, they were performing in an office building elevator all day long as a gig. In another show their manager convinces them that their problem is they aren’t cool. He hands them a big container of hair gel and tells them if they use the hair gel they will become cool and succesful, which actually does happen, until they run out of hair gel (and start acting like two guys going cold turkey off heroin)... I wanted to show a non-singing clip to showcase the offbeat humour in the show, but this will have to do for now, so you’ll have to take my word for it. Don’t have time to do more research anyway since tomorrow is my first day in high school all over again which means I’ll have to be up at some ungodly hour like 7 or 8 a.m. The horror.
May 25, 2009
Countdown
Mimi is also apprehensive about the change ahead. As for Fritz, he couldn’t care less
In just 36 hours I’ll be starting the program at the day hospital. A few weeks ago, it was easy to concentrate on the fact that it will be a good thing for me and should help get my life in order, but as the moment fast approaches when I’ll have to leave my kitties all alone and make my way to the Allan Memorial day hospital still half asleep after having gotten up at the crack of dawn there’s this feeling of impeding doom which seems to grow with every hour. My mother put it very aptly in an email to me: “it must feel a bit as if you were the barnacle being pried from its secure foundations on the rock”. I try not to think ahead too much although sooner or later, I’ll have to plan ahead enough to at least decide when I should be up and which bus I need to take and what I’ll bring for lunch. O Dread dread dread dread dread.
There’s another countdown—this one much more arbitrary—toward post # 1,000 on this blog. I’m now at 955 with this post included, so only 45 more to go. I don’t expect that’ll change anything.
I wonder if they’ll let me bring my laptop at the Allan so I can blog directly from the trenches, so to speak? Just a rhetorical question. I don’t want any of the other patients to get anywhere near my beloved laptop. I don’t play well with others and definitely don’t like sharing my toys.
Pic by Smiler
Taken with iPhone with QuadCamera application
May 23, 2009
The Origin of the Saying
Catch-22 by Joseph Heller
All I knew about this novel going into it was that it popularized the term “Catch-22” and that it was a satire set during WWII. Since I’m not very fond of books about army life and wars, I went into this one with the expectation that I would probably dislike it, only to find that it was much more entertaining than I could have imagined. At the center we have the bombardier John Yossarian, who desperately wants to stay alive and is trying by all means to avoid flying more dangerous missions, though he is forever thwarted by Colonel Cathcart who increases the number of missions required of the men every time they reach his ever-increasing targets—ensuring none of them can return home—in hopes of earning greater esteem from his superiors. Heller’s wry humour and hilarious observations about human behaviour turns even some of the most violent and harrowing situations into opportunities for a laugh, although for some, altogether different responses—anger, sadness, frustration—might be considered more appropriate. The crudeness and zaniness of the characters and situations, the unflinching descriptions of injuries, death and aggression are sometimes difficult to read through, but they also contribute a feeling of immediacy which make this novel still relevant today, almost 50 years after the original publication.
I gave this book ★★★★ I had no expectations and was pleasantly won over.
May 22, 2009
I’m Too Sexy For My Body
Actually, the song is Sex Bomb by Tom Jones and you’ve never seen an ice skater with a figure like this! Figure skater Evgeni Plushenko gives them an eyeful... and then some!
May 21, 2009
Things I Find
Almost as good as the real thing... I clipped this photo from an old magazine because I’ve decided to hell with the environment, I want to get myself this vintage Pontiac gas guzzler when I grow up. No, wait a minute, I think that’s the wrong story. The real story is that as I was walking on my way home yesterday, I saw this car on a stretch of road parked there all by itself with all these buildings from the 50’s, 60’s and 70’s around it. Depending on the traffic lights, there were long intervals when there were no other cars passing at all, making it the perfect photo op. I immediately wished I’d have brought my camera with me, but once again, my iPhone came to the rescue. As I was shooting it, I was thinking of ways I could treat the image so it would look like a photo that was shot in the early 70’s. I played around in Photoshop for an hour or so and voilà! an amateur photo that looks like it was taken decades ago of the now defunct Pontiac something something (didn’t take a pic of the back end so can’t remember what specific model it is). If you like to play “what is missing from this photo?” feel free to compare with the original and let me know what you’ve found (hint: one major item and one minor detail were removed)
Before
Pics by Smiler
May 20, 2009
Catch of the Day
Dropped by one of my favourite used book stores today. It seems that at this time of year lots of people are selling their books to lighten their load before moving time so there was plenty of selection. I had to take into account the 45 minute walk to get back to my place, so tried to keep the selection as light as possible—all things being relative of course:
The Age of Innocence, Edith Wharton
The Pillars of the Earth, Ken Follett
Nothing that Meets the Eye, Patricia Highsmith
The Golden Notebook, Doris Lessing
Du côté de chez swann, Proust
The Old Man and the Sea, Hemingway
The Road, Cormac McCarthy
Awakenings, Oliver Sacks
Finally, when I got back home, there was a book—Breakfast at Tiffany’s by Truman Capote—waiting for me in the mail. Overall a pretty good catch I’d say.
I Watch Too Much Television
“When I got my first television set, I stopped
caring so much about having close relationships.”
~ Andy Warhol
“In Beverly Hills... they don’t throw their garbage
away. They make it into television shows.”
~ Woody Allen
“In general my children refuse to eat anything
that hasn’t danced on television.”
~ Erma Bombeck
May 18, 2009
Small Luxuries
Whoever thought of reading as a luxury, right? It’s available to everyone, it’s fee, it can be learned at any age.... But I’m getting ahead of myself. I’ll start from the beginning. Today was a big spring cleaning day. The last time it was this clean around here was... the last time my cleaning lady was here with her son. She’s been bringing him here since her back injury and apparently he enjoyed cleaning up my place so much last time (we’re talking about a 15 year old boy here!) that he was the one who suggested she call me up to see if I needed their help again. As if that wasn’t luxury enough, I had someone come in and clean all my windows today too. This guy comes around a couple of times a year—in winter he offers to shovel and break up the ice—but this was the first time in the 9 years I’ve been living here that he offered to clean the windows (which means some of my windows hadn’t been cleaned in 9 years, yes. Gross, I know). I thought he’d bring along a ladder but next thing I knew he was dangling outside the window, no ropes, no security system whatsoever and just the assurance that “no worries, I’ve been doing this for 30 years!”.
It’s funny how we often jump to conclusions and assume things about people. The last couple of times he came by, I thought he might be a bit of a swindler. But today I started chatting with him, just asked him for his name really and next thing you know he was telling me he’s handicapped due to a bad head injury he had as as a boy which left him mentally deficient, one of the main results being he’s never been able to learn how to read and write or retain numbers. That’s when I realized he’s not a swindler at all, he just quotes numbers without realizing what he’s actually asking for. When he saw the paint cans in my entrance he offered to do the job for me and I should call him, but since he can’t remember his own phone number, he pulled out a piece of paper with his girlfriend’s number on it so I can call her so she can then give me his phone number.
Having hired help over to help with the housework occasionally has always been a small luxury since I can’t technically afford it, and it’s something I never take for granted. Inevitably, it reminds me how much more comfortable my lifestyle is by virtue of being single with no children. And then I start thinking about how privileged we are here in North America compared to developing countries. But I never think about the underprivileged living right here in my neighborhood. A life with almost no money? I can imagine that because we’ve been there. But a life with no books, no email, no street names and addresses, no phone numbers, no internet, no lists, no reading or writing of any kind at all is almost impossible to fathom.
I’ve decided next time I start feeling sorry for myself for reasons xyz, I’ll remind myself to be grateful for having a brain that works well enough to allow me to read. After that it’s all just gravy.
Photo: Unknown
May 17, 2009
Who’s Afraid of Bigoted Blonde Beauty Contestants?
While I was poking around the YouTube site today, I stumbled on this video
Since I hadn’t watched Entertainment Tonight in ages, I had no idea what the back story was, but had no doubt that I was in for a bit of entertainment thanks to yet another dumb blonde who’s definition of what makes a “strong woman” is signing up for pageants and strutting around in a bikini. Seems Cathy Prejean got herself in some hot water when celebrity gossip blogger and pageant judge Perez Hilton asked her what her views on gay marriage are. “No offense,” said Miss Prejean “but in my family, we don’t believe gay people should have the right to be married”. Some say this answer cost her the crown. Some say “that’s what the bitch deserves” (that would be me). Almost all agree that her lack of political rectitude started up a media firestrom. If you’d like to see the original clip from the pageant, feel free to click here, whereas this link will take you to the actual press conference. The only difference I could see between the spoof and the real clip is that the real Miss Prejean wears a lot more makeup and has those overly-white teeth that look glued on. That overall look always scares me a little and leaves me wondering how someone so obviously fake-looking could ever be trusted. No offense. I must have a prejudice against bigoted blonde beauty contestants.
May 16, 2009
Drowning My Sorrows
I feel absolutely heartbroken tonight, but I keep forgetting why. Then it comes back to me and I do my best to drown my sorrows in reading and movies because thinking about it doesn’t help. Have seen two movies so far: The Day the Earth Stood Still with Keanu Reeves playing an alien come to save the planet from further human destruction and Jennifer Connelly, a scientist desperately trying to convince him that we as a species are capable of change and that we will turn things around and start taking better care of our planet (I say the aliens should have gone ahead with their original plan and gotten rid of us because it’s my belief the planet doesn’t stand a chance while we’re still around) and then Doubt with Philip Seymour Hoffman playing a likeable priest and Meryl Streep as the school principal intent on driving out our good priest based on her certainty (but no proof whatsoever) that he has abused one of the students.
Now I’ll have to watch a third movie to lighten the mood around here because after those two more or less depressing movies, I still have a vivid image of Fritz crouching just ten feet away from me to take a piss on the floor while looking at me straight in the eyes. It was all the more infuriating since I had just this week gotten him these puppy training pads which are like diapers you put down on the floor and Fritz seemed to have really taken to them, which had me breathing a big sigh of relief, but that was all ruined when he decided to relieve himself with both middle fingers stuck out at me. At this point I’ve decided to leave him outside for as long as possible as a precaution for his own safety. Once I stop having vivid fantasies about all the ways I could skin and torture him, then I’ll let him in again. Next week we’ll be going to the vet and seeing if he has a physical problem and if he doesn’t, I’ll ask about putting him on antidepressants because this behavioral problem needs to be fixed, and soon before I do something I really regret.
May 15, 2009
May 14, 2009
Soft Landing
Yesterday’s visit to the greenhouse
Wearing my new sandals for the first time
Today was a much needed day of rest and recuperation after a three-day streak of high energy, exciting and event-filled days. Most of the excitement and events were taking place in my own head mind you, which makes it difficult to relate just what was going on that was so special, because on the surface, the beginning of my week looked more or less like any other week in the past couple of months but with a mani/pedi treatment thrown in just in time for sandal season. What made it exceptional is the fact that by unwittingly depriving myself of sleep, I had somehow managed to tap into my own supply of pure grade stimulant—as manufactured by my own body—and having experimented with it in the past, not at all unlike that larger than life feeling you get after doing some of that other addictive drug called cocaine.
As wonderful as it felt, and even though I had the good fortune of meeting a couple of fascinating people—one social columnist and one German intellectual/expert reader (a title you might acquire after having read a book a day from age six over the past sixty years)—which made for fascinating conversations. It all felt so intense, with all the senses magnified a thousandfold that I decided the smart thing to do was to get off the high wire act while I was ahead and have myself a good long rest. Besides, I have to admit that this sudden switch of mood seemed too good to be true and there was this cynical voice in my head that kept telling me “don’t forget: the higher you raise, the farther you fall!”
Then again, according to Chuck Palahniuk The lower you fall, the higher you'll fly...
May 13, 2009
Wooly New Friends
The pets just goofin’ around
Look, he wants to play with your doggie!
There all kinds of fish, whales, turtles... all with wonderful detailing
Me like ephelants! His snout is pink and so are his ears underneath
One large fish in a pond full of other fishies
I found these yesterday when I stopped over at the pet store. They had a huge collection of all kinds of animals like panthers and pigs, a bunch of ocean creatures (beautiful white whales, sharks, turtles, an amazing stingray)... also a sunflower, a tomato, and various sporty toys like frizbees, footballs, baseballs, etc. This was just a small part of the collection I saw at the store but they have much much more*. They’re primarily sold as dog toys and are made to last. What drew me in at first was the colours, which unfortunately don’t reproduce all that well here but are at once subtle and nicely saturated. When I got up close I was amazed by all the attention to detail and how unique each piece was. That’s probably because they’re made from felted wool (boiled wool coloured with natural dyes) and fully handmade by artisans in Nepal. Not to mention that whoever is designing them is doing a damn good job. The line is called Cheerful Pets, and I know they’re involved in community and conservation programs, but didn’t have a chance to actually go throught their site yet.
Of course figures my cats aren’t interested (the toys a bit big and hefty for cats, admittedly, varying btwn 6 and 12 in)—at around $12-$20 Canadian dollars, they’re not dollar store cheap but absolutely affordable for such quality items. I had to get a few —just couldn’t resist. Also I figured if my mum wants to have one, I’ll be happy to send over the model of her choice along with the next book shipment [got that mum?]. As it happens, I’ve posted close ups of each toy so you can appreciate the details. Anyone else interested in one if they don’t ship to your location, we can arrange something*. So guess what? I’m running late for my appointment! Never fails when I’m blogging!
Tschüs!
*To see more, view their online catalogue.
**If you’d like a different model I can arrange to purchase and send over to you for a small shopping and handling fee. Just leave a quick comment here to say you’ve sent me an email (so I’ll know to check my neglected hotmail-box).
All pics copyright by Smiler, please contact me for usage authorization
Please Don’t Tell My Shrink...
Even Fritz seemed happier today.
This was my day today
(sorry, typed quickly, need to get to bed!):
w/u call from J at 9
up at 9:12 (after cuddling w kitties)
tidy up kitchen
fresh grapefruit/orange/hemp heart juice @ 10ish
start up MBP (MacBook Pro) to check for emails
have cereal w/ fresh blueberries @ 11ish
pick out new songs on iTunes & generally
futz around on the laptop till 1:30ish
apply bronzer on top half + face then
sit in front of MBP half nude as bronzer sets
2:45ish dressed and out the door
drop off several packages at post office @ 3(ish)
speed walk back up the hill to Westmount
2:20 call salon say am 10 mins late
3:38 get mani/pedi—1st time since last year!!!
(usually go 1-2 times/mo) feet scary at 1st—
toes hot pink when done. nice!
4:30 ish sit to dry/continue talking
to v. nice lady (columnist) just met there
we talk talk talk talk talk talk talk,
and compliment each other and make
each other feel good. cool!
5:30ish walk over to pet store to get
organic food, litter, and...
[see upcoming post for fun find]
adorable yorkie comes in w/ nice lady.
we chat.
6:05 drawing a map for pet store
employee to drop off cat litter
6:07 head back home
see a beautiful HUGE slim/young
german sheppherd. "Those are rare
nowadays!" I tell her. I pet dog, head
back down the hill. next door to home,
see irresistible little bichon/maltese/poodle
mix. young & looking @ me. I cannot
resist. start a chit-chat w/ owner—
nice asian young w end up showing
her my new finds, dunno why, just
excited about them & her dog wants
to play with them (almost think of
giving one to her but no—will give
one to my mom maybe)
6:30ish. HOME! tired but wired.
and hungry.
have apple, take out camera to
take pics of my new pets while still
light out. cats come out and hang out.
7:30ish edit down from 58 shots to 12.
8ish unwrap packages arrived in mail.
books. used and new too. Gordon
Ramsay's latest cookbook. Might
inspire me to cook. maybe. never know.
cellist of sarajevo also. just out on
paperback. haven't read yet obv.
but reserved for my mum already.
8:20ish start taking out ingr. for
big taco salad (yummy!)
throw in a couple washes—with
The Laundress suds of course.
9:04 finish making salad & dash
to living r to watch Fringe finale.
worth it.
10ish finally check emails didn't
get to earlier (but want to be blogging
instead bc want to sleep early—
v v tired but still wired)
end up doing other stuff instead
10:59 get oatmeal cookie & milk,
watch OZ. favourite tv show lately.
harsh harsh harsh. even shed a tear
tonite. great show.
midnight-ish: make final photo select.
have a snack—watermelon. i looove.
1:30ish start putting blog posts together,
but really been blogging all day bc
was thinking of what wanted to say
but you can’t tell my shrink.
you can't start giving me advice about it.
just remember the path to hell is paved
with good intentions.
but I've found the key to maybe having
a more or less balanced life (as balanced
as I'll ever be anyway) and still fitting in
an occasional day here & there when I can
get high! drug free! well... I mean
while on lithium but not using any other
legal or illegal substances.
so before I tell you how I found I can
achieve this wonderful state of feeling
actually good about yourself and feeling
communicative and wanting to talk
to strangers and being incredibly
attracted to bright colours and soft
furry things...
let me just say: if you happen to be
a kid or a teenager, or just someone
who tends to be highly suggestible,
I do not in any way encourage you
to try my "method"
because thing is, there in no method.
and if there is, it's for sure not approved
by the medical community.
So now all that's out of the way.
I'm telling you now, you're going to
be totally underwhelmed...
Well here’s how I came to my findings. Last night I decided to try something new to get me out of bed in the morning, since alarm clocks obviously don't do the job. Usually with the alarm I can just press snooze indefinitely. And I do. So I asked my neighbour J to give me a call at 9 am today figuring maybe I’d feel more accountable if there was actually a person on the other end. And it totally worked! This is especially surprising considering the fact that I went to bed at an impossible hour in the morning so only ended up getting 4-5 hours of sleep.
Only now I’m seeing a pattern which I’ve noticed over the last year. When I get very little sleep and manage to still wake up in the morning, on some occasions, with the right conditions, it seems to do something to my nervous system and I get this really nice buzz going for the rest of the day. Obviously it’s not something I would do on purpose because for one it’s exhausting. For another, it's a bad idea to do that for long periods of time because it tends to get out of control (I should know) and besides, 7 times out of 10 it ends up backfiring because I end up being completely useless that day and then for days afterward too.
But it sure is nice to have small windows of time when I feel like the “me” that I actually like. Just not a word to my shrink please.
May 12, 2009
Miscellanea
Ok. So it’s already quite late, and I want to be up really early tomorrow, like 9 a.m. or so and I still have to get this blog post written, get ready for bed, and read a couple of chapters of Catch-22. So I must keep it brief. As it happens, I don’t have much to report, so I thought I’d just toss out a few a few random musings and observations.
1. As it turns out, Catch-22 is turning out to be a much more entertaining read than I was fearing it would be, for a book set in the war and describing life in the army. Which is cool because it’s an old edition and the fonts are so small I practically have to take out a loupe on top of my reading glasses to make out the text. At least all that work is turning out to be worthwhile. So far.
2. I ran into mix ex-assistant from my ex-job today and for once, I actually almost had my act together, appearance-wise I mean. I was recently showered and smelled okay and my hair was in a not-horrible state and I was wearing some new duds along with my beautiful leather jacket I bought a few years back which had been too small for me for the past couple years (up until now), so I looked very okay, I think. It didn’t change the fact that I didn’t have much news to report, but at least I didn’t feel like a total loser. Well, maybe like someone who’s taken a seriuos blow but who’s slowly getting herself back together again. Which is better than feeling like a total loser by a longshot.
3. No matter how I plan my day, I always end up getting to the post office at the last possible minute before closing, and sometimes (like today) up to half an hour after closing. For some reason it’s imprinted in my brain that closing time is a 7:30 p.m. when it’s actually at 7:00. It’s inside a pharmacy which closes at 9:00, so maybe it’s too much information for me to try to retain two closing times instead of one what with my drug-addled brain. It wouldn’t be such a big deal usually, except today I was transporting a giant, unwieldly (yet surprisingly light) box* and didn’t want to have to bring it back home only to have to bring it back again tomorrow. Then the nice young cashier lady took it upon herself to offer me to leave it behind the counter 'till tomorrow. Besides the fact that it was very nice of her and a big relief, I’m also glad that in our post 9/11 reality, she didn’t immediately assume I was a terrorist with an evil plan to blow up the pharmacy.
* Asa if you’re reading this: that box is soon on it’s way to YOU. And no worries, there are no dangerous goods there—just your bucket... which I hope you’ll be able to pick up this time!
4. Today I got really, really, REALLY, REALLY excited about... can you guess what it is? Facial tissue boxes. Even though it was one of my good days today the ONE thing that really made the day were those tissue boxes. No kidding. I use a lot of tissues because my nose is constantly running what with mild allergies to my two cats so there are tissue boxes in every room of my apartment, but the thing is, they’re always just horrendous looking. Not just bland. Not just boring. Not just sooo pastel. Not just kinda ugly. I mean... prints that look like reproductions of puke swirl patterns ugly. But today there were newly designed Kleenex boxes on sale (made with recycled fiber too! No doubt a smart response to harsh critcism from environmental groups) and they were actually visually attractive! As in... prints I might be inclined to put up on my walls! I won’t mention the fact that they feel like sandpaper after a few uses (hopefully improvements are underway). But hey! Kleenex boxes designed for the discerning environmentally friendly design connoisseur! No detail too small I tell 'ya*...
*Well actually, an even cooler alternative would be to switch to handkerchiefs. I found an awesome site for handmade kerchiefs, but they only ship in the U.S.! (If somebody can help me out with that, let me know!)
5. On a much more serious note, there was a documentary on HBO tonight from 2007 called Ganja Queen about Schapelle Corby, the young Australian woman who was caught at a Balinese airport with some 10 lbs or pot in 2005. I’d heard about her story back then of course since there had been a seriously sick media frenzy. Weed is a very light substance, so 10 lbs is a MASSIVE amount. In Bali, the maximum sentence for drug possession is death by firing squad. Though Schapelle and her lawyers mercifully managed to evade the death penalty, she was condemned to 20 years in a Balinese prison with no chance for parole. I tend to believe that she’s not guilty and that the drugs were planted* as she stated in her defense, but regardless of that fact, it just breaks my heart to see this young woman (now 31) who was only 27 when she was sentenced to 20 years. By the time she gets out she’ll be 47 which is still relatively young of course, but that’s two decades when a lot of women evolve in their careers, date, find husbands, maybe have a few kids, and all that has been stolen for her. For a crime for which there are no victims, and a drug that is relatively harmless. For shame.
* Still, her plausible version of the facts made me take the firm resolution that from now on, I am NEVER traveling overseas without ensuring my luggage is locked and secure first. Scary.
Well, wouldn’t you know it, it’s taken me up till now, at 3:58 a.m. to put this “simple” blog post together. This is why I post so many quotes and video—so I can get some sleep!
Photo from: ill Seen, ill Said (a gorgeous blog by the way).
This photo does not depict the product mentioned but it’s a great shot!
May 10, 2009
Horrible. Beautiful.
Little Bee by Chris Cleave
At the heart of this story is an event filled with violence and horror which leaves at least three of those present; Little Bee, Sarah and husband Andrew deeply traumatized. The book centers on Little Bee two years later as she is leaving a refugee detainment center in Britain, where she has been kept since her escape from Nigeria following that harrowing event. Little Bee has nowhere to go, though among her meagre possessions she has Andrew’s driver’s license and address, so she sets off on foot to join the only people she knows who might be able to help her. This is the story of Little Bee and Sarah, who choose to hold on to each other and keep hope alive against all odds. It is told through both Little Bee and Sarah's voices in alternating narratives. Once I picked it up this book, I could barely put it down. For some reason, the publisher suggests not to tell anyone what happens in the story and though I hardly see why that would be a problem, I do agree with them that "the magic is in how it unfolds". Highly recommended.
I gate it: ★★★★½ the characters and their stories grab you from the start and live on with you long after you've put the book down.
p.s. apologies to those who might be interested, as this book has been reserved by a fellow BookMoocher.
“Woman Forced to Clothe Naked Gnomes”
To get the full story, just click here. For more links to recent absurd stories in the media, click here. To find out—like I just did—if the latest chain mail email you got is a hoax, or if you’re just curious about urban myths, click here.
May 9, 2009
Double Bill
What was needed tonight was a no-brainer action movie with plenty of fight scenes and car chases and meanies who want to hurt the goodies. I rented Transporter 3 with hunky Jason Statham just released recently and it was over before I knew it. So I decided to go for seconds, and having not seen the first two, followed up with the first one. That one kind of left me on my hunger too and I almost went ahead and rented the second one to watch tonight but I’m too tired and it’s getting late. Besides, it’s like junk food; it’s ok to have some when you have an occasional craving, but you have to know when to stop or pretty soon you might feel sick to your stomach and even get a headache. But it sure does hit the spot once in a while.
May 7, 2009
Quote of the Day
"Somebody said to me, 'But the Beatles were anti-materialistic.'
That's a huge myth. John and I literally used to sit down and say,
'Now, let's write a swimming pool.'" ~ Paul McCartney
The Mystery Remains
The New York Trilogy by Paul Auster
These three stories set in New York City seem at first unrelated but certain common themes soon emerge; the writer’s relationship with his/her work and characters, the fine line between illusion and reality, between sanity and madness and obsession, and questions of identity are a few that come to mind. Having read several other Auster books, I immediately felt at home with his familiar voice which isn’t to say that I was able to make head or tails of these stories. One clearly senses Auster is working out his personal issues about writing here but he does so imaginatively and with a sense of mystery that kept me hooked for the ride, and though this book made me think, I felt slightly bewildered, with no idea where I’d ended up by the time it was over.
I gave it: ★★★½ (brilliant writing, rather confusing stories which have more to do with inner exploration than actual storytelling).
May 5, 2009
Changes Ahead
So it’s looking like there are some changes ahead in the near future. My shrink had mentioned a Day Program offered at the hospital to people who are recovering from various psychiatric conditions and needing some guidance and structure. I said no twice because the idea of being around a group of people who may or may not be worse off than I am every day was just more than I could bear. That and having to get up in the early hours of the morning and having to follow a schedule every day seemed like more than I was prepared to handle. But then last time she mentioned it, I said yes. Not because I’m suddenly excited about the idea of it, but because I’m thinking it’s probably something I need at this point, since if anything, establishing some kind of routine is proving more difficult that I would ever have anticipated.
Last Friday I had an appointment to go meet a nurse from the program who showed me their current schedule—Monday to Friday from 9:30 a.m. to 2:00 p.m. with various workshops such as self-esteem, art therapy, assertiveness and so on, with access to the psychiatrist who is in charge of the program and apparently comes highly recommended. The nurse and I sat there for over 90 minutes while we went through a questionnaire, which among other things had us make a small family tree. Always a difficult exercise for me since I have such a bad memory. We only got about halfway through the whole document.
Now I’m on the waiting list, which usually takes 4-6 weeks (sometimes less) before admission. I can’t say I’m excited about it—after all I’ll be forced to leave the comfort of my home and bed (not to mention my kitties!) every day. But I know some kind of change—beyond getting a haircut—is needed at this point.
Postcards from the Past
Had you asked me about this even just a year ago, I would have told you I wouldn’t be caught dead re-living any part of the 80’s. For me, it was the decade of my teenage years which were about as disastrous as teenagehood gets. As I think back and see a mini-movie version of those years playing in my head, I can say with absolute certainty that there is nothing, nothing I feel nostalgic about when it comes to the 80’s. I once met a guy who listened to nothing but 80’s music. I took it as a sign to stay well away when I realized there was no intended irony in his music choices and that he had never figured out there’d been all kinds of things happening on the music scene since then.
For me, musically speaking, between ‘80 & 89 there was a hard rock phase, a heavy metal phase, a New Wave phase, ska/Mod phase, a pop (i.e. Madonna) phase, a 60’s & 70’s rock phase, and probably a few others I’m forgetting... I switched musical genres depending on my fast-changing moods, hoping to find that one perfect fit. Back then, answering the question so what kind of music do you like? was a loaded proposition because you knew the right or wrong answer could mean acceptance or rejection by any one group of your peers. Back then I thought there was something really wrong with me if I couldn’t answer that simple question “correctly”. Now I think: Screw it—there is no such thing as right or wrong when it comes to music, I never did well in group situation anyway, and anyone my age who still goes around asking that question clearly still has some growing up to do.
Of course now that I’ve reacquainted myself with some of my favourites from that era, I’ve been having a ball tracking down more of the golden oldies I’ve ignored for so long. As I listen to many of those songs again for the first time in 20+ years, I’m amazed at how well some of them have stood up to the test of time. Others are like postcards from the past—a past that I am very glad to leave behind—and it’s a relief to find that the music stands on it’s own, has taken on another dimension than being just a memory of a time best left behind.
Fade to Grey - Visage
Cars - Gary Numan (Actually from 1979 but who’s counting?)
Genius of Love - Tom Tom Club
Call Me - Blondie (I'm guessing she’s high as a kite on this video)
The Ghost In You - Psychedelic Furs
I know they weren’t intended to be funny but most of these videos crack me up!
May 3, 2009
A New Look
One should never underestimate the power of a good haircut. What people often don’t realize is that like most things in life, it’s all about the process—when you have a great hairdresser you know you’re going to look good in the end no matter what. I hadn’t visited my hairdresser Marguerite in almost a year, mostly because I didn’t care what I looked like and also because I was apprehending our conversation, which would inevitably lead to talk about what I’ve been up to lately, which as we all know isn’t much to brag about. Marguerite is a Swiss lady and her demeanor when you meet her is always slightly aloof at first, so even though I’ve known her for years now, when I first see her I always think I’ve fallen out of favour with her. Last Thursday was no exception and when I sat myself on her chair I felt sure she disapproved of me. Apart from the fact that no one ever judges me as harshly as I do, I know I shouldn’t care what people think about me, but it’s a tough habit to get out of.
My hair had gotten really long, and we agreed to cut off a good six inches of overgrown and ratty ends, giving me a new look in the process. In the past I would have been staring nervously at my long hair as it fell to the floor, questioning my decision, but I couldn’t be bothered this time. As it turned out we had a great conversation about depression and mental illness and her views were so tolerant and understanding that I felt like I got a better therapy session from her during that hour than I have gotten in the hundreds of hours spent with various psychologists and shrinks over the years.
At the end, I liked what I saw in the mirror, felt pretty... confident even. It had been a long time since I’d felt that way. Unfortunately, now that I’m done writing about it, I realize this post seems so trite that I’ve considered trashing it and starting over, but no. It is what it is. I’ll try to do better next time.
Evidence
The weather has been acting like a manic-depressive teenager refusing to take her meds lately. It goes from cold gray mornings to sunny mid-days to rainy windy afternoons and back to sunny evenings for good measure (with variations thereof). It does keeps things interesting... for example, no matter how you choose to get dressed, you are bound to be wearing the wrong thing for most of the day. What should you opt for? Coat? Shorts? Winter boots? Sleeveless top? Twinset? Hat and mitts? Everything goes out on the streets, though I’m surprised people haven’t taken to carrying around suitcases so they can change with every major shift in weather hour by hour.
Several appointments this week meant I got out of the house more than usual—a good thing obviously. I had planned to walk going both ways but since I haven’t quite figured out how to be on time for things, I usually end up cabbing it just to get there, if not on time, then at least “less late”. I had the leisure to take long walks on the way back home ,which meant forays all over the Western part of the city. Everywhere you looked there was tangible evidence that Spring is truly here. In this city, a few days of warm weather are not a reliable enough indicator of such things, whereas the greenery and flowers rarely lie. Year after year I can hardly believe such a complete transformation—from the dead of winter to the frenzy of summer—is possible, and year after year nature does it’s thing and gently, or sometimes abruptly, forces us to adapt our lifestyles to her whims. Pictured above are a few pieces of evidence fallen from various trees which I collected in the park for a little photo project at home. Below are a few quick snaps taken close to Westmount Park, where many homeowners vie for “best front yard” award, to the great delight of anyone who appreciates lovingly tended gardens in every shape and form.
Trees almost leafy
Magnolias shyly peeking
Tulips a-bloomin’
All pics by Smiler.
Photos above taken with a Canon Rebel XTi
and bellow, with an iPhone camera.
May 2, 2009
Coming Up...
T’was an eventful, busy and very long day. There’s various things I could talk about, there’s plenty of music to share, and a nice batch of photos to show too. Coming to you soon on From Smiler, With Love. But right now, as the rest of the city is waking up, the only thing I can manage is brushing of teeth and resting of head on pillow.
May 1, 2009
Material Girl
From the great wisdom of my years, I’ve finally understood that I’ve always held the key to my happiness, but it seemed too simple, lacked a spiritual component, so I kept searching, in vain. But I know better now. The key to Smiler’s happiness is called: Shopping. A good shopping spree must involve at least one big ticked item (a pair of designer shoes, a leather purse, sunglasses or a couch if you’re more in a décor kind of mood) with a selection of smaller luxuries thrown in for good measure (e.g. French eau de toilette, exclusive skin care products, and various lovely things that are by no means necessities but must be had by virtue of them being irresistible). That combination usually has me coasting on a little happy cloud for days and days, and can last residually for years—the lifetime of the purchased items even.
Today’s damage:
1 Haircut at one of the city’s best salons (free of charge)
2 Silk headbands from Holt’s to accessorize new haircut (much more than they’re worth)
1 Stella McCartney facial lotion
1 Makeup bag/carrier—irresistible print(also from Holt’s... i.e. $$)
1 fabulous extra large chocolate leather hobo bag from M0851 (quality investment piece)
1 olive green leather wallet, also M0851 (small investment piece)
There’s T-Shirts and Sandals too. But that stuff is from JCrew mail order and I may or may not end up returning most of it.
Result? I feel better than I ever did when I’ve supposedly been in love, better than after having a great meal (because I’ll have something to show for it for a long time and I don’t feel stuffed), better than after sex (sex? what’s that and why would anyone bother with something so disgusting? says the woman taking handfuls of antidepressant), and almost better than really good chocolate (scratch that, better than chocolate too). Never mind that I can’t afford any of it right now. If it makes me feel good, then it will eventually, directly or indirectly help me find a lucrative occupation, right? Right.
I’m so materialistic, I know. But then just like Madonna said, we are living in a material world.
