he fell in love. it was his life.

i really liked this book. worth checking out. as always i stole a piece of it and put it away for a rainy day. it looks like it is going to start sprinkling again so here it is...

"after that day when I saw the elephant, I let myself believe more. It was a game I played with myself. When I told Alma the things I saw she would laugh and tell me she loved my imagination, for her I changed pebbles into diamonds, shoes into mirrors, I changed glass into water, I gave her wings and pulled birds from her ears and in her pockets she found the feathers, I asked a pear to become a pineapple, a pineapple to become a lightbulb, a lightbulb to become the moon, and the moon to become a coin I flipped for her love, both sides were heads: I knew I couldn’t lose.

and now, at the end of my life, I can barely tell the difference between what is real and what I believe. for example, this letter in my hand-I can feel it between my fingers. the paper is smooth, except in the creases. I can unfold it, and fold it again. as certain as I am sitting here now, this letter exists.

and yet.

in my heart I know my hand is empty."

nicole krauss
the history of love

i'm not the one you want babe, i'm not the one you need

i left work today around 2. i was meant to stay until 5 but it didn't work out. fatigue, headache and a general malaise paved the way for me to leave. i got home shortly before 3 and crawled in to bed. asleep within minutes i awoke just before 6 only to recollect a long and eleborate dream wherein i was at work answering phone calls and talking to co-workers on msn. i think this is some kind of cruel joke being played on me and i am not impressed. why can't i dream about winning the lottery or living in the woods sitting by a fire? why are my dreams either the same as my life or some sort of macabre nightmare involving rabid animals and locked doors? maybe i should eat chocolate before bed...my mom always said that would give me nightmares. maybe she got it all wrong.

i discovered tonight that i can make hot chocolate in our fancy new coffee thing-a-ma-jig. i was quite proud of my discovery but now in hindsight i can see that it was really a very elementary deduction. at least i don't have high expectations of myself.

tonight galena has been sleeping beside me in bed. when marko goes into the kitchen or walks by for any reason she immediately jumps down, he is clearly onto us but says nothing. but she will jump back up as soon as the coast is clear and resume her nap. she has jumped up and down some 12 times in the last 3 hours. i asked her if she was dizzy...she has yet to reply. i guess it has become her routine.

well time for my head to hit the hay...maybe now that i have said that i will dream about horses.

whoever heard of a 9.5 hour silent film?

things that are making me say wha? or hmmmm today

1. would anybody dare?
2. i wish i knew how to quit you
3. this is going to be the optimus in cinematic experiences
4. i think i am a sosomeatatarian
5. this pretty much sums up my life, or at least the local weather

so i could comment on the election but then i suppose that is nothing new or surprising. still i cried for about a minute, well not really cried but there was condensation near the centre of my eye. who knows what the future will bring?

today on the bus a woman got on and she was wearing a hideous outfit. pink mini skirt with tassles hanging down and a pair of those boots that come up to the knee and have bunches and bunches of fabric that seems to swath the ankle and work it's way up. i was laughing in my head and thinking fugly

just then she turned around whilst talking on her cellphone (of course) and her ginormous backpack smashed me in the head. i think it was filled with rocks.

i was taught a lesson.
i guess now her and i are even

at least i wasn't dressed like 1983.

it's wet and it's warm

so those more astute readers of this blog may find it interesting to see a picture of what appears to be familiar hands pouring a...what is that a...latte? in what appears to be a familiar kitchen. those of you would not be wrong.

this can only mean one thing.

i caved.

again.


doesn't it look so good that you would almost give up a whole paycheque to have one?

the proof is in the pudding, sometimes it is just clouded by all the marshmallows

you can't buy small town life in a big box store cause they just don't sell it

answering the phones for a living beats working in a wal-mart factory in china, or working in a walmart store in north dakota for that matter. that was the underlying theme of robert greenwald's new documentary "the high cost of low price".

i am a liberal, somewhat educated and reasonably informed american disliker, or more to the point non-american sympathizer. having said that i was prepared for this documentary to be aimed at me. it wasn't. instead it was littered with tear jerking stories of 90 year old farmers loosing their preverbial farms. we find them sitting in the back field while off in the distance the neon red of a giant walmart sign casts a sinister glow on the scene. to say this movie is pandering to the common denominator with it's bleeding heart flag flying philosophies is an understatement.

i am hesistant to say it was completely flawed if for no other reason then it covers some very important ground: the billions in subsidies the company receives from the US government every year to build in communities, the non-existent philanthropy practices of the walton family (the richest family in north america), the wages and working conditions in chinese and bangledesh factories as well as the working conditions of employees in american stores including racism, sexism and corrupt management practices as an ingrained part of the corporate culture and perhaps the most important, the power the people can have when collectively they choose to say "not in our town". there is no doubt that this film accomplishes the task of leaving a sour taste in ones mouth.

what i would argue however, is that due to it's obscurity this documentary is really only going to be seen by those who seek it out, those that already know the facts, those that are ultimately seeking intelligent film making surrounding a controversial issue. i wasn't looking for the same old same old and i certainly wasn't looking to see a montage of people crying over the loss of their communities innocence, i was looking for a new perspective, to be wowed by the power of film. ultimately this would never have been possible in this film.

i wish we could project it onto the side of every walmart in america though, late at night and have everyone in the community come out to see it. then it would be effective in it's aim. sadly, this could never happen.

i am standing up at the water's edge in my dream

standing in line at the grocery store five months pregnant with a toque and a scarf on i begin to overheat. the panic sets in for a moment and i fear that i am going to have to drop my basket and run outside in order to make it back home in one piece. just when i start to get dizzy i hear from checkout 4 a little child crying to his mom.

"i can't hold it mom, i really can't", the mom is patient, more so than most and she quietly explains to him that he will need to, "just 2 more minutes we are almost done". inside she is praying that he can do it, she is willing him the strength to pull through. he doesn't seemed so convinced and the crocodile tears are flowing freely down his face, he is pleading like a torture victim and i am instantly reminded of that time at that party when i had way too much to drink and couldn't find the bathroom. i understood this kids plight and it wasn't a good one.

for a moment i thought of dropping my stuff and helping the mom. don't worry i would tell her, i will buy your groceries for you and meet you outside, just take him to the bathroom. of course this would never work.

so as a dozen or more people looked on in pain this poor little boy peed his pants right there in checkstand 4. the mothers face went red and the man in front of her said "hey you can't win them all", a few laughs and then silence. the boy was still crying and the line wasn't moving and the whole thing was a mess. so she left the line and put her buggy aside, she wasn't happy but also not all that surprised. and then it was business as usual.

i was up next and i had all but forgotten that i was hot and even if i was still feeling dizzy i am not sure i would have cared, in the grand scheme i realized that i can hold it. longer than a 6 year old anyway.

i wonder how many truckloads of money equals five minutes of catch with your dad when you were a kid?

the other night i was at a friends watching the fireworks, she lives right on the water, perfect view. planes were of course flying around in circles observing and boats were lined up in the harbour. it was an interesting perpective from where we were, it seemed as though the planes were actually flying into the fireworks when they completed their circle on the opposite side of us. of course we were aware that in fact the plane is likely quite far out but the conversation moved from there.

what do the fireworks look like from in the plane? what about in the boat? does it look different from a yacht then from a canoe? how about those on the beach, are they seeing what i'm seeing (literally perhaps but what about figuratively)? that homeless guy leaning against a log, what is it he sees? i bet it's not as pretty as what i saw, but maybe i'm wrong, maybe for him it looked better, or exactly the same. it is an interesting concept that by changing your point of view you change your world. like you and i, a couple of disenfranchised youth (humour me, i know we're getting old) who see the world as this kind of tumultous pit of dispair, but would we feel different in the yacht? or in the plane? it is a very difficult question to answer. i suspect it isn't surroundings but experience that changes the view, but are they not intrinsicically connected?

i talk about it all the time, let's just drop it

i feel conflicted.

part of me wants to listen to angry music and scribble with brightly coloured markers all over large sheets of paper and part of me wants to listen to something quiet and depressing and lie in bed staring at the wall. either way the evening isn't panning out as expected.

the weather continues to storm as the windows shake and the hot water clanks through the pipes. the year has turned over into a new one filled with possibility and strength in it's renewal. my spirit is taking it easy today. the batteries in the recharger.

for the first time in a long time i can not think of one thing which i would resolve this year. things seem to be alright. or i have learned that what we are right now in this moment is good enough, as long as we are able to find a place inside where we feel ok. i do.

may this year bring with it everything which you are hoping. the world is a pretty tough place these days, it would be nice if something came easy for everyone, just this once.

happy new year.