An apology...

Towers, I'm sorry I laughed when you barfed on the Tilt-a-whirl tonight. I'm even more sorry that I told you to try and keep it in your mouth. Or that I told you to buck up when you said you were feeling nauseous.

It's just that I love rides and I'd never seen anyone actually barf on one and we were the only people on the tilt-a-whirl and I thought you were just being dramatic. Turns out you actually got sick.

And I got the nervous laughs and I couldn't get it together and I used the rest of the tickets on the Gravatron (which was much more provocative the second time round) and I laughed and am still laughing.

Barfing is funny when it's not you who is doing it. I am sorry and I hope you've washed out your mouth. I give you full permission to laugh the next time that happens to me. I can't believe we found a Midway in this disgusting butthole of a city. And went and saw the Nosehill Fire. What a night.

I am not the holiday inn...

This is a brief interlude from the story of the ship to post some outrageous news: I am not the holiday inn.

Today my wonderful father calls me at work and asks to stay with me for the next three days as something, as usual, has fucked up his plans and he has no place to live for the next month. Now I love my father, don't get the wrong idea, but this was the last straw. Considering the multitude of times this man has let me down, left me to sleep the night on a park bench, told me whilest drunk to go fuck myself, borrowed money and never paid it back and other surly activities, riddle me just what incentive would I have to go any further out of my way for him? Obviously he is broke, and did not suggest how he planned to eat/shower/sleep/be merry during said three days, which I'm sure would involve him ordering me to buy him beer for his troubles or allowing him to smoke in my car, which I highly disapprove of. Inevitably 3 days would turn into 3 weeks and so on and so forth...

Long story short: I said no. It was the second hardest thing I've ever done with him (the first was standing up for myself earlier this year after the "go fuck yourself" incident). I felt like a monster and I obsessed about the image of him sleeping in the street somewhere and it's snowing and he has yet another stroke and it's my fault.

It's not my fault. I'm not the Holiday Inn, and that's final. I earn my own dollahs to reside at the Fortress of Smoothitude and for once, I'm entitled not to share, not even a little bit.

Our first detour...

As luck would, or wouldn't have it I suppose, we ran out of drink early on in our voyage and Somnuk had taken to drinking whatever he could get his hands on. I had not yet acclimatised to the constant lull and lurch of being on deck all day long and I feared if we did not stop soon for supplies that it would not be long until Somnuk jumped ship.

The Colonel strongly heeded that Port Descansa Paradiso would be the best place for us to throw the anchor. I didn't really know any better, seeing as he was the map man, so we tacked one last time and headed ashore. Not five minutes had we put our feet down on land, and Somnuk had found a watering hole. It was a seedy place, a seedy place indeed. I believe it was called the Bonasera.

The Colonel tied Derf up outside, much to Derf's chagrin, and we took our seats. The sun had set hours ago and the evening was upon us. A fine femme fatale by the name of Magdalena had made our acquaintance and one thing led to another and before we knew it, we had one more to add to our crew. This young lady had several rather unsavoury talents, talents that would not become apparent until a while after we had left the port, but she was a good addition to our crew. So far she had wowed us with her ability to clap her flat feet, and when she did so she mildly resembled a seal, and we figured we had nothing to lose by bringing her along.

As the sun came up, we realized we'd slept on the beach and all walked a little worse because of it. It was time to stock up and get the hell out of there.

Looking for a crew...

Once I got the money lined up for the ship, I placed an add for a crew. I had secured the funds from several friends in high places, well versed in rhetoric and whimsy. I longed for the comfort of my old friend, whom I had recently let go, but knew that for this voyage I need[ed] some objective parties.

The process of choosing the crew was pretty easy. Somnuk was a crafty native-american fellow who was savy with a fishing pole and could read the seas like a book. When the water bubbled and blackened, he knew how to throw the sails and in which direction to tack to keep us from capsizing. He had a penchant for drink but this was easily cured with the addition of the Colonel whose name we couldn't remember but he resembled the KFC man so that's what we called him. The Colonel had a dog named Derf (Fred backwards) whom he insisted upon bringing onto the ship. The Colonel had traveled far and wide and was a great writer of maps. He could site our longitude and latitude at any given location and could read the stories of the stars. As for me, I had a vision for the voyage, and that was the most important thing on the ship.

And so Somnuk, the Colonel, Derf and I set sail. I had gotten used to the taste of salt on my lips and my fair skin would soon be leathery. Exactly what we were looking for, we weren't sure. Freedom. Liberty. Honour. Independence. That was a place to start.

I'm afraid it's out to sea for me...

We sat together, you and I, on the big hill in Bridgeland overlooking the city. It was mid-afternoon and so warm that we could sit without sitting on our coats because the ground was dry. You strummed your banjo and I hummed a tune on the fly.

The city was beautiful, up there on Drury Avenue. We saw a jack rabbit and I swore it was the biggest darn rabbit I'd ever seen. And it was.

Some questions have no easy answers. Sometimes all we want to hear is nothing. Sometimes we don't want to be told what we already know which is that all signs point to heartache, no matter how you shake it.

He told me it's all alright on ice and I told him it's out to sea for me... We shook hands, parted ways and I swore I'd never forget him. I set sail for the high seas and didn't look back.

Beauty in the break down...

We're sitting across the couch from one another and neither of us has the answers the other is looking for. The who-yas outside are making a ruckus that we can hear from our house and we're left wondering why we're paying the rent when they're partying in the hood. T'was the same issue with the mormons though, she reminds me.

We're not talking. It's alright though. Because maybe we've talked it out. And maybe the answer is that the best times of our lives are right now and we refuse to acknowledge them in the moment they occur because hindsight is 20/20 and we're still young and think we know better.

We're on the cusp of something so big here than neither of us can put it to words. So we don't. We don't acknowledge that we're scared and we'll never be the same again as we are right now. Don't change, I beg her silently. Don't change for anyone.

When I look back, I will have remembered this moment for what it was. Someone far wiser than me once said that there's beauty in the break down. Never have truer words been uttered.

For lack of a better word(s)...

The procrastination station is in full swing here at the Fortress of Smoothitude. I'm sure there are many things to discuss, blog-style, like the pending vacays and the manic weather we're having but I'd rather start the list of best lines ever. I'm not going to restrict it to one given medium and the list is in no particular order. I'll be updating it as necessary I suppose but this will do in the meantime.

1. "Mama oooo- (any way the wind blows) I don't wanna die, I sometimes wish I'd never been born at all."
-Bohemian Rhapsody, Queen. Who hasn't felt like that, junior high style?
2. "And jesus, he wants to go to Venus, Leaving levon far behind, Take a balloon and go sailing, While levon, levon slowly dies."
-Levon, Elton John.
3. "And these children that you spit on, As they try to change their worlds, Are immune to your consultations, They're quite aware of what they're going through."
- Changes, David Bowie.
4. "open your eyes look around you, fuck what you heard, you were lied to"
-Don't Call Me Whitney Bobby, Islands.
5. "The man says, 'Get out of here
I'll tear you limb from limb.'
I said, 'You know they refused Jesus, too'
He said, 'You're not Him.
Get out of here before I break your bones
I ain't your pop.'
I decided to have him arrested
And I went looking for a cop."
-Bob Dylan's 115th dream, Bob Dylan
6. "The creatures outside looked from pig to man, and from man to pig, and from pig to man again; but already it was impossible to say which was which."
-Animal Farm, George Orwell.
7. "but remember when i moved in you and the holy dove was moving too and every breath we drew was hallelujah"
-Hallelujah, Leonard Cohen.

That's enough for one day.

You can't always get what you want...

Strange title for someone who isn't exactly enamored with the Rolling Stones, but we'll let it slide. I've always had this life philosophy that you really do sometimes just get what you need, but only when looking at it in retrospect. At the time life seems like a real douchebag and nothing goes your way and the everyday seems just do damn mundane and why can't things be different? But then, somehow, something presents itself that you'd never expected and often it's better than what you had hoped and well, you just wish you hadn't worried so much about it in the first place. My quandary is this, is this a universal truth for everyone, or is this just something that has worked for me?

Many things in my life that at the time were real downers turned out way better after the initial disappointment of the expected didn't pan out. For example, in grade 12 when I wanted to be the lead of this girl who commits suicide in a play for the drama festival and instead was cast as the Ring Master of the Circus of Life. In the end the role had a lot more depth and was slightly more up my alley, not to mention the sequence and top hat I got to wear. Or in grade 12 when I initially was shortlisted for my exchange and had originally wanted to go to France. Instead, I was picked at the last minute to go to Mexico, where I picked up a language that I am in love with, and packed my bags and didn't go to UBC and instead came to U of C (and I don't want to even imagine what it would be like if I hadn't come here). Or the time I got shortlisted again to be a CA in Residence. Initially I was heartbroken about not getting hired but in the end Lacey and I came in late in the summer and turned out to be great friends.

So where is this all going? Right now I have a few people in my life who just don't seem to be getting what they want out of life. I want to tell them that life will inevitably give them what they need, when they need it, but I can't promise them anything concrete. I can't promise myself anything concrete.

But I've always just closed my eyes and jumped in and the self-doubt and anxiety last only a few seconds until it's a simple free-fall and it's blissful and it's everything I had never expected. So hang in there comrades, please...

Stealing batteries from smoke alarms...

I might not make it to summer. This I've realized. I may get swallowed by a giant book of Peruvian such-and-such and never return. I'm cranky and pouting and sitting on the top of my metaphorical suitcase wishing I could close it.

I don't remember this ever feeling this intense. The type of intense where I chew the inside of my mouth until it bleeds. The type of intense where I don't press snooze and instead I just pull the batteries out of the clock. The type of intense where the days of old seem like the best ever days that I fear will never return, even when I should know otherwise. I just want to close the suitcase and not unload the laundry for months. I keep reviewing my email and reviewing my photos and no where was there any evidence of the pending cold war. I didn't see it coming and now I'm holding nukes in both hands while my toes are curled and telling me to just give in, calm down and cool my jets.

This type of existential thought does us no good. But I do it anyways and no one steps in to stop me. Fine. I'm a big girl and I could pout all day long.

All You Need is Love...

A few things dawned on me today that I thought I should share:

1. Julio Cortazar's "Noche Boca Arriba" is a tricky bastard and it was only today, after twice having studied this short story, that I understood that the main character does in fact die and it is the Indio telling the story, not the man on the motorcycle. Well played, you tricky bastard, it's that sort of thing that makes it a classic.

2. "All you need is love..."- J. Lennon. I know, I'd heard it a million times but maybe I've been too pessimistic or indifferent to the realize the strength of this statement. If we can put our faith in the supernatural or the spiritual, two causes that very well may not exist, then surely putting our faith in our fellow human beings is a worthwhile gamble. The swiss watch simplicity of maybe love is enough came as a sweeping, existential, utterly overwhelming and transcendently beautiful idea that I really hadn't considered until now. So, John boy, as usual I applaud you.

3. Joanna Newsom: Why is your voice so Bart Simpson-esque and yet so heavenly? And with a full, all most classical sounding orchestra behind you, you exceed my expectations once again.

It truly has been a day of realizations, greatly encouraged by the sunshine. A life that only a few days ago was utterly unbearable short of a Badlands-esque homicide spree across the prairies has become now sunshine, warm breeze, Malibu and Good News for People Who Love Bad News (definitely a summer classic album) weather. How lovely indeed.

Two thumbs way down...

Alright, I admit it. Towers and I have officially mobilized the terror that is the "We have to see this movie, it looks absolutely terrible" club. As of this evening we have seen the two worst movies all year, as I am refusing to see the third: Snakes on a Plane. I like that he and I can lower the bar together and talk jive and laugh at grossly inappropriate jokes and then pretend that we didn't really find them funny.

On a completely unrelated note. I return to this issue of naming, it is something that I obviously have a bit of an obsession with. Language is a real bitch sometimes and when saying nothing is as potent as the anticipated response, then I'm really left in a bind. And so, Towers, if you succumb to reading blogs, let me just say: Though I'm sorry I'm acting like a girl, I do believe that's what I am entitled to do given the circumstances. Your silence can only be interpreted one way which is absolutely ridiculous to think that you'd be left out in any capacity so grow up.

PS. From the second worst movie of the year, "Hey dude, I just had the best dream." Response: "Hey, you're driving dude." Thank you Matt for humouring me tonight.

Facebook isn't real assholes...

Just in case you were wondering, FACEBOOK ISN'T REAL!!! No I haven't lost my teeth or grown a mullet. I can't believe I'm getting flack for putting up my favourite disgusting photo of all time on my facebook profile. People I haven't talked to in years getting up in arms about it. Honestly, if you know me at all, that photo more than sums it up. I know that my sense of humour is sick and mildly offensive. That's fine. Consider yourselves warned.

Facebook isn't real. Putting slutty/I look soooo good/hammered/pantsless photos on your facebook profile is lame. No one cares that you we're sooo drunk and managed to look super sultry and coy (which I assure you, you didn't really) or that you are super artsy and really don't care all that much about the great photo that you managed 'by accident'. And so to set the record straight, I have changed my photo to that of the very person who claimed to have hated the previous photo. So there. That's right, I'm mature.

This time I haven't lost all of my teeth, I have instead turned into Ricky from Trailer Park Boys and am sporting the most fashionable of Ravine-haircuts. Take that Bucket Richardson. Take that.

Symbolismo...

I deal with symbolism everyday on a regular basis. Among the Spanish Poetry, Short Story and Afro-Peruvian Slave Narrative classes I'm taking, all we do is talk about the implied, the indirect, the symbolic. Let me just say that a little directness never hurt anyone. However, I must admit that when the prof asked me to "profundizar" my statement about the silencing of the "black voice" in the works we've read so far, I took it like a dog to a frisbee and ran with it. I went on about how history is written by the winners, the oppressors and the elite and in many cases pertaining to our class, the white male. Continuing on with incredible profundity, I discussed the importance of reaffirming and reclaiming this voice as a part of restructing and redefining one's cultural and ancestral identity and validity and to a certain extent the collective memory of a given country. The use of symbolism is just one strategy of the reclamation process, which simultaneously resurrects the past while cementing its presence in the future. This applies directly to the case of Peru, who had the greatest number of imported slaves in all of the Latin American countries at the time (as it was the centre of the S. American colonial universe) menos Brazil (which is a different matter entirely) and whose population of the ancestral slave body goes virtually unacknowledged, entirely sin voz until very recently.

That was a tangent, but I do have a point. Symbols take many forms and in a world where words define us, symbols remain the quiet, passive representatives of the things we simply cannot, or will not, put into words. Whether it is a house key to your lover's home or a lock-shaped icon that allows one to read otherwise censured blog entries, these are all symbols of one thing or another.

Where the tricky part lies, my friends, is in the interpretation of said symbols. That is an art in and of itself. In the symbol lies the intrigue, which is what we all love the best and now we're back where we started.