Hellooooooooo insomnia.
I hate my laugh. No, really. It’s a combination of my mothers’ laugh (a sort of gaspy, light, heaving) and Mike’s laugh (short bursts of falsetto squeaking). Someone once told me that it’s what she liked about me, but I think she just associated it with my sense of humour.
I have figured out the easiest stir-fry in the world. One morning I took my stir-fry strips out of the freezer to defrost by the time my classes were done. When I got home, I realized that I had no vegetables and I was too tired to make rice (actually it was more of being too tired to clean the rice pot because it’s always a bitch). I found a pack of garlic pasta salad, and threw everything together.
Ingredients:
Directions:
Note: To ensure beef is cooked through, add beef in pan a few minutes before the pasta salad.
On a good day I can find two pairs of pants that I want to try on. Today I found five, and none were right. Either they didn’t fit, or the cut ended up different when I actually put them on. Why is it so hard for me to find pants? Nice, durable yet comfortable, baggy yet fits around my waist, wide-leg, plain-looking pants.
I’m catching Dolly up on the kitchen counters lately. She’s never had the gall to do so before. Nick’s theory is that she was really bored and knew she was alone during the Christmas holidays, so she just jumped up one day and learned that it’s possible. She knows that she’s not supposed to because as soon as she hears one of us walking to the kitchen, she’ll jump down to the floor and give us the honest kitty look. The one where she stands at attention with the big eyes, head slightly tilted to one side. Yeah. She’s an evil kitty.
I feel like speaking tonight. I feel like expressing myself in some way, but can’t focus on what I want to say. I feel like I’m totally addicted. I feel like sharing something that’s completely embarrassing, like the face trace trick or the wing chun dream.
I feel like singing. I feel like shouting. I feel like everything is just right.
I feel like I finally have people I can hang out with. I feel like I’ve finally had a meaningful relationship.
I feel like I can dream without disappointment. I feel like I can think without hurting. I feel like I can admire without jealousy.
I feel like every song is the last I’ll ever hear. I feel like I’m finally living.
I feel happy.
Whenever Trolley and I hang out together, whether it’s a car ride or a session of tower defense, we queue up albums that we both enjoy. Billy Talent, The Artist in the Ambulance, Sing the Sorrow, Give Up. However, there’s one song that he never queues up, that he always skips without anyone else knowing.
He knows that I can’t listen to that one song off guard. As much as I want that song for myself, to mean nothing more than a frail voice and bouncing beats, I can’t give up the memories that I associate with it, I can’t let go of what the song has come to mean.
And it’s only now that I realize that it’s better this way.
I met a woman last week who had the Majesty symbol tattooed to the back of her neck, which is totally fucking awesome. When she found out that I recognized it as the Dream Theater logo she gave a look of surprise, I’m guessing since listening to Dream Theater is consider somewhat esoteric, liking them can be seen as an eccentricity, and even some Dream Theater fans don’t know of such a subtle symbol. It turns out that she’s in a cover band, and even though the set list doesn’t seem to include anything as insane as Home or Dance of Eternity, it’s still amazing that there are people who are willing to attempt such music. She’s playing a concert tonight at Barrymore’s, with a Dream Theater tribute band and a Tool tribute band. It promises to be a good night of progressive metal/rock and I had my heart set on going, until I found out that there’s also a party tonight at Sheri/Emily/Christine’s place. I’m tempted to go to both, but I think I’d rather focus on one instead of spreading myself thin. Besides, it’s to celebrate the birthdays of three good people, and I wouldn’t want to miss it this year. No alcohol tonight, I’ve decided, and no chance for me in stiffing Tom with a bill (as I mistakenly did last year at the Clocktower).
Sometimes, the biggest compliment one can receive is an introduction.
The early afternoon was decidedly heavy, so I turned up the volume when I stepped outside. There was powder in the air, powder everywhere, and soon I was snowblind.
As I stepped on the bus, I looked at my watch and realized that I was leaving almost two hours early for class. How had I made such a mistake?
I decided to use the best of my time and do some browsing. I saw what appeared to be Nadine in the mall, and would have approached her if:
I took off to Zone to see if there was anything new, and alas, an open-air chime box was available. I was tempted to buy it, if the song wasn’t some Christmas carol. Afterwards, I set off for Folio, but to my disappointment, discovered that it’s been replaced with a soon-to-be furniture store.
I decided to peruse the bookstores in the area, and the first one I went to had nothing of interest. Even at Chapters I didn’t find any new translations of A Hero of Our Time, or the audio novel of Lolita read by the sultry voice of Jeremy Irons. The third bookstore I went to, a surprisingly modern store with eclectic finishings, had a very selective collection of books. Every wall or pillar had shelves set up with books of a different genre, and the entire place was quite a change from the bustle of the street right outside. At one corner, there was a mechanical fireplace with four very distinct flames warming up the air. The fire would have seemed much more realistic if not for the odd churning sound coming from the chimney. A couch was set up in front of the fireplace for people to read, but only a beautiful, navy blue, long-haired cat was sleeping on it, belly up, one paw lazily stretched out towards the fire.
Put in a different mood by the serenity of the store, I set off for class, and promptly changed my playlist.
Black then white are all I see in my infancy.
Red and yellow then came to be, reaching out to me,
Lets me see.
—Tool, Lateralus
Inhale.
Colours are washing over you. Drifting, shifting, twisting, changing. No point of focus, no solid shapes. You feel the contrast and graze the answers.
And this takes you to a place you’ve never been, but always dreamed of. Where you’re bathed in happiness, and you can see the warmth of the light. When you hear nothing but stillness, and feel nothing but contentment.
And this picture in your head is as real to you as your heartbeat. You become lost to this world when your eyes roll back and your head tilts backward.
Let me take you there.
I had a short discussion with a local lawyer on intellectual property tonight. I figured that it would help me be better prepared for any of the ideas that I’m thinking of bringing to fruition. It was fairly informative, and he treated me to a pitcher at Mike’s Place after.
That’s when I learned that Mike’s Place has Double Diamond on tap. Double Diamond. On tap. At campus.
Uh oh.
Last week I signed up for the National Capital Region Table Tennis League. Teams are two to four members each, and play in a round robin over four months. Three matches are played every week, and each match consists of two to four singles sets and one doubles set. A problem I have is that I start to hold back and doubt myself when I’m up against someone I’ve never played before, causing me to lose my offensive control game, the only thing I’m good at. I figured that joining the league would be a good way to expose myself to different playing styles, and get myself comfortable with playing new people.
We only played two matches today, winning the first and losing the second. There’s quite a mix of skill level there; from former national team players turned national team coaches, to provincial junior team players, to recreational amateurs, to beginners, to paraplegics. I’d say that people there are between 14 and 60 years of age.
Since I’m actually either sweating or sitting in my sweat for more than four hours there, I’m tempted to start using anti-perspirant again. I haven’t used any in over four years, since I don’t actually smell very much when I sweat. I’ll take the fact that I still have friends (and have actually been dating) as confirmation of this belief.
This has been the busiest weekend EVAR. It’s been the first time that I was too busy to write an entry. I mean, I usually make time to write, with the same priority as showering and eating, but yesterday I only had time for two of the three.
Friday was all running errands and watching Return of the King (which was alright). Much to my surprise, Aaron, Trolley, Wheaties, and Nick all chipped in and bought me Double Dash, which we promptly played until five in the morning. I woke up with just enough time to get to practice (although it was only four hours of sleep), played for two hours, then came back home and slept some more.
By the time I was awake, it was time for Aaron’s pot luck. I had a chance to meet Chris, Mel’s boyfriend, who’s a fucking great guy to hang out with. Of note were Jen’s potatoes, which must have been the most flavourful I’ve ever tasted. I brought about three dozen of the Bailey’s truffles I made, which were well received and gone in five minutes.
I got back around two in the morning, collapsed on my bed, and here I am now, groggy and hungry. In half an hour I have a ride to the first matches of the newly formed city-wide table tennis league. I’ll be playing for about five hours in rotation, varying between singles and doubles matches. I expect to be one of the worst player there, which means that I’ll probably gain a lot of play experience.
I still need to start an economics assignment and watch an accounting tape, both of which were supposed to be done on Friday. Today might just be another total write-off.
The bus ride home tonight was all beautifully orange and snow.
What do I have left to do today? I’m not really sure. I’ll roll my frozen chocolate mixture into truffles tomorrow. I should shower tonight. Fold up some clothes. Throw expired transfers in the garbage.
Sometimes it feels as if my life has become simple, and all I have to do is turn on auto-pilot. I don’t really have anything to worry about. Money, companionship, school, health, everything I used to think about constantly before have all ceased to be problems for me. I even have people that I would consider friends.
Lately it feels as if I’ve reached a sort of equilibrium, where anything can happen but I’ll be able to deal with any problems that arise. This is quite a change from before, where I was always worrying, turning over in my head the things that bothered me.
It’s almost a form of complacency. However, this is a sense of total complacency, unlike even my previous complacent feelings. I’m unsure of whether or not this is a temporary thing, and how long it will last if this is true. Being complacent means that the excitement I used to feel, from the struggle to control undesirable emotions, to the nervousness associated to attraction, to the simple uncertainty of passing a course, has mostly leveled out. These were all scary things, but exhilarating nonetheless. This complacency is different from feeling numb because it’s on a different level. Numbness deals more specifically with emotion, whereas complacency refers to life in general, including emotion. This means that complacency is not necessarily a bad thing.
I’m just not sure what to make of it as of yet.
