Well, it would've been, could've been, worse that you would ever know

I watched a lot of tv today. First, I watched Serenity. And that made me cry, because nice characters died. And some almost died. And it was all very suspenseful and exciting.

And then I watched Match Point. Holy mind-fuck, Woody Allen. It totally went in a different direction than I expected, and even though after an hour I felt like it had been three, it was still an excellent movie.

And then I watched some stupid tv. Like The Fabulous Lives of Celebrity Wives, which is about outrageously weathly, mostly useless people. But it got me thinking about their real lives. Like, do they actually work out their problems, or do they just throw money at them and pretend everything is fine? Shaquille O'Neill spent $100 000 on his wife's Mother's Day celebration a few years ago. Does this mean that they're happy together and have a real connection, or is their marriage just a show? And then the divorces! All of the money spent on ex-spouses! It's incredible. What fascinates me is the beginning of relationships, as compared to the end. All of the lovey-dovey affection and gifts, all the promises that aren't kept up. Marriage is so much bigger than we make it out to be. Fuck, it's huge! We change so much over the course of our lives, and we can be so blind to others that I can't understand why we think we can just stick with one person and have them be it. In theory, it's possible. But I think there should be a major test given before marriage. And not just any test, a tricky, disguised test to see how committed each person really is. How do you know that your love can last unless you've gone through a wave of crap, come out the other end, and had a shower together?

Damn, now I'm just thinking about sex. Focus lost.

First I'm perfect, then I'm lazy....

I realized a couple days ago that I really like cutting things up. I don't mean that I want to disect animals or chop meat. I just enjoy chopping vegetables. I don't really know why. But I was chopping up a bunch of zucchini at work the other day, and I started composing a semi-erotic (obviously humourous) story about chopping zucchini. In all honesty, I hate zucchini. I hate the texture of it, and how it masquerades as cucumber, when cucumber is obviously the better of the two. But chopping zucchini, that's another story. It's just so satisfyingly spongey as the knife slides through it. And you don't have to peel it because the skin is so delicate. I like chopping celery for the crispness of it. And potatoes for the firmness. And onions for the way you can cut along their groovy surface. Hardboiled eggs are pretty fun, too. I'm not a fan of chopping garlic, though. I'd rather put it through a garlic press and not have the garlic smell linger underneath my fingernails for days. Anyways, I think that's all for today. I have some more profound stuff to write about, but I don't feel like formulating it all into sentences at the moment.

It's just an ordinary day and it's all in your state of mind.

I haven't just sat around and listened to music for such a long time. In some ways, I think having a tv in my room is a terrible thing. It's always there, and it's so easy to turn it on and veg out. I need to go to the library today and find some more books to occupy my time. I'm divided about school. Do I really want it to start? I'm starting to feel weird without having homework to do. But I do so hate homework.

I am pretty darn pleased with what I have accomplished this summer. I just got a car that makes me wriggle with joy everytime I remember that it is not the Corolla. I had an awesome California trip. I managed to find a job with few hours, but varied tasks so I don't feel like shooting myself in the head. I've seen lots of movies. I've spent copious hours with my friends. I'm undoing past damage, slowly but surely. I now have a wonderful kitty who usually runs down the stairs to meet me when I get home, and who curls up at the foot of my bed. I've been to the river. And now I'm looking forward to a Yukon/BC driving adventure! I really can't believe in that old "champagne year" birthday bullcrap. I was born on April 18. And my year of being 18, not so good as 19. And 19, not as good as 20. Fuck, it's so good not to be a teenager anymore. On the ferry on Monday, I saw my friend Nickie (she works on the ferry) and said hi. My mom asked me several minutes later who "that woman" I had said hi to was. It was weird having someone my age referred to as a woman, but I guess it's true. We are legally adults. Young adults, but still. Not children. I like my freedom, and I want more of it. Being a child is good for a lot of things, but I am so radically different now. It's strange to look back and know that that kid was me. Sometimes I feel like I have someone else's memories. Like everything I remember from my childhood didn't actually happen, I just imagined everything.

The Difference Between Medicine and Poison is in the Dose

Move one inch at a time.
Don't make shit rhyme.
Would it be easy to repeat the first line?
My mind's not a well;
It won't run dry.
Just keep drinking water and you'll be alright.
This is paralysis with no time at all to let go.

Well don't call me by my full name,
And all this is temporary.
It feels much better to know that you won't feel a thing.
Well don't talk about it;
Write it down but don't ask for help.
I can't be honest with even myself.
Did you ever wish you were somebody else?

Accomplishments are transient.
They pulled me in unremittingly.
Just lasting this long,
I feel relieved to let repetition save me.

Well don't call me by my full name,
And all this is temporary.
It feels much better to know that you won't feel a thing.
Well don't talk about it;
Write it down but don't ask for help.
I can't be honest with even myself.
Did you ever wish you were somebody else?

Move one inch at a time.
You'll be just fine.
Move one inch at a time.
You'll find...
They pulled me in but accomplishments are transient.
They pulled me in but accomplishments are transient.

Well don't call me by my full name,
And all this is temporary.
It feels much better to know that you won't feel a thing.
Well don't talk about it;
Write it down but don't ask for help.
I can't be honest with even myself.
Did you ever wish you were...
Did you ever wish you were...
Did you ever wish you were somebody else?

-Circa Survive

It seems to me that "maybe" pretty much always means no.

I just had a lovely day in Coombs and Qualicum with Lisa V yesterday. We browsed little shops and looked at stuff we don't need. But I bought two plants, three pendants (one for my mom), deluxe Weed, and some filters. We had lunch in Qualicum Foods, which is the BEST GROCERY STORE EVER. Seriously. It's amazing.

Today I really MUST do repotting of the plants I bought. I bought a catnip plant and Marlowe is CRAZY when she gets fresh catnip. So amusing. I'm really struggling to come up with something to post here. Nope, nothing's coming to mind.