xmas

Imagine this, my Christmas:

I stayed up until 4am Christmas morning, for absolutely no reason. Thus, I slept until after noon. 12.15, I think.

I blantantly ignored all the Merry Christmas text messages I got for over 3 hours in some cases, because I was mad at them for waking me up, wishing me well.

Once I was awake, I came to the sickening realization that I didn't have a Christmas present for my mom. I'm not sure I'll ever get over it.

Once awake and semi-functioning, I sat on the computer for the next 5-ish hours, reading and making my mom watch FailBlog.org videos with me.

When we finally started cooking, my mom added too much flour to the gravy after I had used a roux to thicken it, so it turned into a tasteless, odourless, colourless, gelatinous goo.

We were going to actually be classy and have some wine with xmas dinner, but my mom couldn't get the corkscrew to catch (because she's left handed), so I tried. And broke the (probably decade-old, Dollar Store) corkscrew off in the cork. So no wine.

My mom boiled the turkey breast in about 5 cups of water for about 3 hours, so it was dry as a popcorn fart and completely tasteless. But she loves pepper, so there were HUGE bits of pepper, and it was SO spicy.

The dressing was from a box, and was easily the best part of the meal.

The carrots were drowned in water, microwaved tastless and unseasoned.

She couldn't find the motor part for the beaters, so she used an immersion blender to 'whip' the whipping cream, turning into a spackle-like paste to go on top of the mini pumpkin pie, which had been in the freezer for a year-and-a-half (it tasted like it, too).

The potatoes and sweet potatoes were also boiled, but actually well done, if a little unseasoned.

...but, so far, I don't think I've ever had a better time at home since I moved out. Lots of laughs, a tear or two (as a result of said laughter), and stories upon stories upon stories have been told and created.

reflections

I want what M has with her gf, even if I don't want to actually become a lesbian. I want that kind of I-need-you-but-the-world-says-I-can't-have-you love. I don't want to die without knowing that, at the very least. I want to be desired. I want to be respected for who I am now, and not misrepresented as who I used to be. I don't want to misrepresent myself. I want to sing again. I want my 5 octaves back, like no one will ever know. I want to dance. I want a way to pursue all my career aspirations, but in order to be good at anything, I need to focus on one thing at a time, which I have a great difficulty doing. I'm astounded that I've been at my job for a year and a half, but in the same breath, I can't imagine being anywhere else in life right now. I could be married. I could be in University. I could be graduating University this April. I could be in France. I could be in Africa. I could be on my way to Scotland. It appears life wants me in DB for the time being, despite how much I loathe the city as a whole. The people are the only thing that makes it any kind of bearable on a day-to-day basis. I have a small obsession with odd numbers. Weird, I know. Roughly 98% of all my disappointment stems from my falling short of perfection in anything I do. D says I'm too hard on myself. But I know that if I'd just apply myself, I could be great, instead of just good. It could've been me in Kelowna with him, instead of her. I also don't like having competition; I love the spotlight of being the best, and having a skill level or being something to aspire to. The only real competition in life resides in how hard you push yourself at what you love, or maybe, enduring what you loathe. I want to make a difference in not only others' lives, but in my own. I want to be a good role model for myself. I want to be some kind of inspiration, a muse, for someone. My life is full of I wants and I could bes, and I am growing listless with my life in DB. I still need to finish my education to become anything in the culinary world; something I'm not even sure I want to pursue after I graduate. I'll always cook, and I'll always hold K and D on a pedestal for making me into this person, woman, I am today, and hopefully the better woman and more conscientious human I will become in the next year and a half.

Like joy was something you could touch
I wrap it around me
Like a blanket
It's just you, me and the moon

I wish. I dream. I believe. I'm not sure what I believe. I'm complex. I'm disturbed. I'm disturbing. I'm available, yet emotionally unattached. I'm dead on the inside; waiting for life to give me a boost with its great jumper cables of experience. I'm realistic to a fault. I live in a dream world, where sometimes I have troubles distinguishing the fact that I'm not behind the fourth wall of the rest of the world, watching it like a close-up, live-action play whose outcome I can't affect or alter. I have a hard time not staring at other people. I've been told I have a way with words, and someday I'd like to believe it. I just think I'm insecure in myself, and feel the need to express myself like I do in order to compensate for my lack of personality and life experience.

You want my brutal, honest truth? I honestly believe there is no one out there for me, and I'm destined to be alone, watching love from the outside for the rest of my life. I believe I will live a third-person perspective until I die. Alone.

That's where the tears on October 6th came from, when B came to the hospital, that train of thought. Love. I was fine until I wasn't alone. I am comfortable in solidarity. I am confident in independence. I am uncomfortable in spotlights. When there are other emotions around me, I get flustered, confused and overwhelmed quite easily. I have an extremely difficult time expressing myself in spoken words, because once they escape my lips, it's permanent. Writing, I have an infinite amount of time and tries to get it right. Perfect. Hence why I listen to so much music -- song lyrics and the sounds which surround them express my feelings so much better than I could ever dream to accomplish myself. Sometimes there are no words for what I'm feeling. In times such as those, the orchestral Score Of The Life Of Me is blaring in my head so loud that sometimes I have a hard time hearing reality. Which, I know, is quite an issue, but I am at a loss as to how to even go about beginning to try fixing it. Not that I really want to anyways.


I think I'll just remain perfectly flawed and alone for the time being; it's where I'm comfortable.

out of [sight]. out of [mind].

Out of sight, out of mind
See the child in the street
Never give them a thought
How they live, where they sleep
Grind them into the ground
It’s the kind thing to do
Death is welcome retreat from the sorrow they find
Out of sight, out of mind
But here, the pain is never out of sight
The sick, the starved, the poor
There is no room for us to turn away
We can’t just shut the door
Out of sight, out of mind
Where the strong never look
If we don’t come too near, it’s as if we’re not here
And there’s nothing to fear
But out of sight we have the room to plan
We watch them from afar
They won’t suspect
That soon we’ll see a day
When they know who we are
Let them stay unafraid
Just for now, keep them blind
Patience waits for a spark
‘Til the time that is right
We’ll remain in the dark…
Out of sight, out of mind
Out of sight, out of mind
Out of sight, out of mind.


This song/this woman makes me want to sing again.
For real.
For a career.

Think I have the guts?

And I don't know how
I can hear the reaper calling
'This [boy]'s already fallen'

About an hour ago, I was so inspired to write another post here, that I went and read over a few of my old posts, and now I've lost the writing bug again. It's terrifying to think that I'll never be as good as I once was. I wish I could just open up my computer, log on, and write. Write for hours, and just write my feelings out. This is why I listen to music so much. This is why I have trouble sharing emotions with other people. I'll be the first to admit that I'm emotionally stunted and disturbed. I wish I wasn't, but this is who I am now. I've been through things that other people wouldn't wish on their worst enemies. And I've done it all with a smile and a kind word. Well, mostly. I can definitely think of a few times when I couldn't even handle seeing another human soul. Thankfully (most of the time), I'm through most of the drama.