february, you're a piece of shit, always

february you're ruining my life what the hell do you think you're doing stop fucking snowing

forever and ever you're the worst month of the year i hate your guts and i hope you melt

disposable myths

"don't you ever for a second get to thinking you're irreplaceable." - beyonce

i've seen you before. don't worry, we are all children looking up for validation. i know you don't want to feel special, you want to be special. you are so helpful. you are always there. you are so kind, so loving. you want equality so long as you are the equal one. i've seen you before. don't worry, you always get what you want.

here's what i think, though. you are completely disposable. we are all completely disposable. one body is replaced with another (how absence is easily replaced by another body that makes the same motions, and then it's fine i guess) is replaced with another is replaced with another. how the giant world makes us feel so small, and the tiny world makes us feel so small. you are in denial about your dispensability, 'cause it hurts doesn't it. all we wanted was to feel like someone needed us. i mean, me. wouldn't it be nice to feel like someone needed you, but actually you, you you you? turns out nothing needs us. you're flushed.

but don't worry, because it's completely alright. see, here's the thing. you are not the first nor the last to do the thing you're doing. someone will most certainly accomplish the same things as you, and don't worry because someone already has done it before you. someone has already made your mistakes, and someone will make them again when you're gone. so that's it. you are not the first and you are not the last. you are a cog in the machine, you are not a cog in the machine. you are free.

Why In The World Would I Want To Be Perfect?: A Lament On Braces

Warning: the following blog post is extremely dramatic and contains language which may not be suitable for people who don't like swearing. Reader discretion is advised.

++

A few weeks ago I went to the orthodontist and he suggested that I get 3 or 4 braces on my bottom teeth to fix this one tooth that wasn't doing what he wanted it to do.

My orthodontist had made this proposition to me 3 months earlier before I went to China and I had laughed in his face. Braces? Um, yeah right. Back track to 8 years ago when I was 13 and the same orthodontist said my braces would be on for a year to a year and a half. They were the new, stronger type at that time. Fast forward a little bit to a few weeks before my prom with braces still on. You know, 4 years later.

I often say that glasses are ruining my life, but when I was in high school, braces were ruining my life. If you've never had braces before then I'm sorry but you just don't understand. Unless you have some other kind of mouth thing that rips the inside of your cheeks repeatedly or had to have elastics tying your mouth together or been forced to cut the corn on the cob off the cob, you just don't understand. So, 3 months ago, when my orthodontist suggested braces, my initial reaction was

FUCK NO.

NEVER.

FUCK OFF.

FUCK YOU.

FUCKING DIE.

NO.

He said come back after China and we'll talk about it.

This time, I was more prepared when he asked me about braces again. I really don't want braces, I said. I tried to emphasize the 'really'. In fact I said it multiple times. I really, really, really do not want braces. I have been going to this place since for 7 or 8 years. My dad has paid you a bajillion dollars. Leave me the fuck alone already.

But he showed me a mirror. I've seen it already, the crooked tooth. I look at pictures of myself and it's plainly obvious to me (but probably to no one else). This one stupid tooth is turning my perfect thousands-of-dollars smile into something less than perfect. The nurse said it might even get worse (but probably not). That's just ridiculous.

Normally I embrace "flaws". I'm a really short person, but will that bring me down? No! I will use it to my advantage! I was born this way!

But 8 years ago I had made the decision to change my teeth. It was work, it cost money, it was literally painful, I cried real tears probably way too much during the braces years. They really weren't as cool as they looked on my older cousin. But with anything that I work on, I want the end result to be good. No, I want it to be perfect. Did I go through 5 years of braces hell to finish with one crooked tooth? No, I did not. When I start something the finished product needs to meet my unrealistic expectations/standards of perfection. (Okay, that part might be where I'm a little bit crazy).

I sat in the chair and looked at my teeth in the mirror. What the fuck does this stupid tooth think it's doing anyway? How did this even happen? I refuse to believe that I am not the master controller of everything in my body. I will will this tooth to fix itself. Barring that, I will learn to love my crooked tooth. Nobody will notice it. Plus, I always seem to have crushes on people with crooked teeth. If I don't want them to change, why should I want my teeth to change? I'm almost 21 years old! My braces time is over! It's too late. Fuck that noise. People will learn to love me with my crooked smile.

Who am I kidding? I said yes to the braces (mostly because I want to be famous and famous people have straight teeth) and then I went home and cried because I'm a baby. Also because the receptionist said they were fully booked until October, and I'd have to wait until bloody motherfucker goddamned October. Goddamnit. I hate everything.

If only the orthodontist could have done it in August when I had my appointment, they could practically be off by October. Instead, I'm going to have them for Halloween, my birthday, Christmas, New Years...

I really, really, really want to call them and cancel my appointment. Just fuck it. It's one tooth, it's not even that crooked. These people are causing me serious emotional turmoil. Come on, Emily, you can do it. Tell them (politely) to fuck off. Pick up the phone...

I really, really, really don't want braces. But I also really, really, really don't want crooked teeth. Fuck me. Why oh why do I crave perfection?

Things You Can't Do Because You Wear Glasses Or Contacts

Needing glasses is one of my least favourite things. Ever. Even more than having cowlicks. I am completely and totally dependent on wearing glasses or contacts just to go outside and behave like a normal person. Once my contact ripped at school and then I had to walk around blind and issue a warning to people in my workshop class that if they were making eye contact with me I wouldn't know. It was funny/terrible.

Things You Can't Do While Wearing Glasses

1. Go to a heavy metal dance party

2. Go swimming

3. Whip your hair back and forth

4. Get punched in the face without fear of having glass shattered in you eye

5. Have a serious make out session without getting kisses on your lens

6. Be outside in the rain and still see properly

7. Read books if you only need glasses to see far away

8. Sweat without your glasses getting all slippery all over your face

9. WEAR SUNGLASSES

10. Play most sports

Things You Can't Do While Wearing Contacts

1. Have impromptu sleepovers

2. Read for long periods of time: if you, like me, need glasses to see far away, then possibly you, like me, have the problem of trying to read books close to your face while wearing contacts.

3. Fall asleep on the bus ride home

Things That You CAN Do With Glasses Or Contacts

1. see (most of the time)

when you wait for the dawn to crawl through the screen like a burglar to take your life away*

I am a 20 year old getting my BA in Creative Writing with a minor in Political Science and yeah, I know those are two completely different things.

My therapist told me there are steps to becoming [x]. Like there are steps to becoming anything. Like if I want to be a writer then I have to do this this this this this this and this and this like everybody else and then I will be a writer. And if I want to be something else then I will have to do all the steps to become that. I said I feel like I should be doing more things right now. I said my life feels boring and like a habit. My therapist said what did I expect I am an undergrad I am doing all that I am supposed to be doing right now.

I grew up thinking there was a world of possibilities for me. I could be anything. Anything! Anything in the whole world! When I was 12 we had to present a project to our class of what we wanted to be when we grew up. I wanted to be a hockey player. I told my teacher I didn't need to learn math because I would be a hockey player and I could pay someone to be my agent and do that shit for me. I wanted to go to the olympics.

Then I learned that women cannot (yet) be professional hockey players (unless you're Hayley Wickenheiser (but you're not)); they have to pay to play and have jobs on the side. Or, really, have a job and play hockey on the side. And there are 80 trillion people in Canada who play hockey, and ~23 players on the olympic hockey team, so, yeah, you do the math. I can't.

Anyways, the moral of that little story is that I learned I can't be just anything. So in high school I decided I wanted to be a writer, which was the other thing I was good at. I liked to write fiction but I really wanted to be a poet because I loved to read and write it. Cool, but you know where this is going right. The moral of this story is that I can write poetry but I can't be T.S Eliot (toilets) and I had good ending for this sentence but I can't remember it.

Blah, blah. That's depressing, yada, yada. But I'm still doing what I like to do, which is nice. Only now, instead of being confident that YES I WILL BE A MOTHERFUCKING WRITER LIKE JK ROWLING i am terrified by the statistics and the idea that I will have to work a part-time job at American Eagle to make rent because only 5 people will read my poems and only 1 person will buy it because everything is available online for free. And I am terrified that I'm only average. That my writing is mediocre. That I am good, but just "good", and not like, Irving Layton Award Finalist good. You know? Ever felt like you were just "average"?

I was wondering, as I left my therapists office, when adults lose their sense of possibility. When is this shift from thinking there's more than one way to do things, to being convinced that everyone who doesn't walk in a straight line is lost? I feel like I am on the cusp of maybe realizing that I do need to do this this this this this this and this and this to "become" a "writer". And I'm doing it? I am totally following this nice little path that's been paved for me. Is a BA is the new high school diploma? What is life?

Part of me is trying to cling to this idealistic rebellious free-thinker hopeful defy-all-odds mover shaker dreamer achiever view of the world. Is the 'real world' a box that, once you go inside of, you can never get out of?

Katrina dropped out of college but she's one of the smartest people I know. And when she writes, she has 10 times more stories to tell than I do. See, I want to be a writer, but I don't have much to say, which might be a weird thing for me to say as I've had this blog for over 2 years now.

It all just sounds average to me. Like everyone else feels the same way as me and we are all going to write the same thing.

*bukowski wrote this

So Sick of Being Tired and Oh So Tired of Being Sick

There are a few things causing problems in my life right now.

I cannot register at Concordia until Monday. This causes problems for a few reasons. Namely, anxiety. Guys, I can't sleep. I'm not even joking. For the past two days I have wanted to throw a brick at my wall because all the classes I want to take are full. I have made a mock schedule and it causes me anxiety to rearrange it. It causes me anxiety to think of all the other people who are registering right now and taking up spots in the classes that I don't want to take but will have to take because the other ones are full. If I have to read Joy Kogawa's Obasan again I will drop out of college immediately.

The reason I took so long to start the registration process at Concordia was because I was waiting to hear from UBC which only sent my acceptance on May 14. Then Laura came and I was distracted. Then I called Concordia and they only scheduled my academic advising session for June 14.

Making a schedule is really hard. I think I must've been concussed when I decided to major in Creative Writing. Probably I should have looked at the degree requirements and the classes and maybe talked to an advisor about this stuff, but I didn't, I applied 2 days before the deadline and then through word of mouth I heard that it was a really good program, and still I didn't look at the courses and now I'm here in this spot, confused because I just want to write stories and I don't want to read Margaret Atwood and I don't want to study 18th century drama. I feel like maybe I should've known that Creative Writing is actually English Literature in Disguise with Four Creative Writing Classes to Throw You Off.

Sometimes I think I'm stupid. Not stupid like, 'I can't solve this math problem', but stupid like there's something that I'm missing. There's something about my life that I don't understand, that I don't get, when I finally do get it I'll have this "ooooohhhh" moment where everything makes sense and I can live my life better, but then I think that maybe there is no moment of revelation and as soon as I stop being so naive and realize that this is it, there is nothing else to "get", then I can come to terms with the fact that Modern Poetry in English is full and I can get on with my life.

But I can't stop thinking that maybe it will open up.

I think I just care a lot, you know? "I just want life in every word, to the extent that it's absurd" (and if this was an academic essay I would probs do some MLA shit right here, like, "Gibbard, Clark Gable", or something). Anyways. The point is that sometimes life is hard! And confusing! And no one wants to help you! And I want all of it, all of life. And you think one thing but it's really another thing and you feel cheated and upset, but maybe 17th Century Prose & Poetry is not as bad as it sounds (who am I kidding? It probably is) (but life goes on) (is what I'm trying to say).

The One Where I Have Feelings About "The Marriage Ref"

Due to a recent obsession with Tina Fey and through word of mouth (read: twitter), I have come to hear about a show called "The Marriage Ref". Without ever watching this show, I could tell you that IT IS THE WORST SHOW EVER. WTF.

If you don't know what The Marriage Ref is all about, let me tell you: there is a "referee". There is a married couple. There are 3 judges -- two guests, one Jerry Seinfeld, creator of this monstrosity. The married couple have a fight. The guest judges debate the issue. The "referee" makes a call. Someone wins something. No, just kidding, this is a show where humanity loses.

I tried to think of reasons why someone as smart as Tina Fey would agree to be part of shit like this. My opinion? Seinfeld was once on Tina Fey's show 30 Rock. Now she's returning the favour. Plus, they're both with NBC. Maybe this isn't why she did it but I'm going to pretend it is because it would hurt me if Tina actually wanted to be on The Marriage Ref. Like I would be personally hurt. Kind of like when Penelope Cruz signed the petition to let Roman Polanski off for rape. Really, Penelope? Whyyyyyyyyy

The Marriage Ref doesn't do anything helpful for anybody (the issue isn't even resolved at the end). In fact, what it does is reinforce gender stereotypes and showcase failing marriages at a time when people like Maggie Gallagher are trying to tell us that "marriage is a sacred institution".

[While we're on the topic of marriage, I'm on a rampage because I've been reading "opposing viewpoints" on homosexuality for my moral issues in law class, and some of that stuff is so infuriating. Burman Skrable argues that the sexual revolution has allowed it so that people have sex for pleasure instead of just procreation and that now marriage is not all about having children when really it should be. I have a few things to say: a) we let old people get married. b) we let infertile/impotent people get married. c) we let people who don't want to have children get married. d) we are overpopulated. Estimates are that in 50 years we will have over 9 billion people on this planet and we cannot sustain that many people. Also, I feel like Burman Skrable a) never gets laid or b) if he gets laid he hates it because his homophobia is probably just repressed homosexuality.]

I really didn't want to watch The Marriage Ref. I'm actually mad that Tina Fey did this to me. And though I planned to watch it and never tell anyone ever, I was actually SO MAD that I had to write this blog post and therefore admit that I spent 42 minutes wanting to stab myself in the eyes. Just to see Tina Fey, hoping that maybe, maaaybe it wasn't as bad as it sounded. No, it was the worst thing ever. I would rather spend the rest of my life watching Ghost World than see 5 seconds of The Marriage Ref [I hated Ghost World]. But, watching it gives me the authority to judge it. I watched it so you don't have to! You're welcome!

See, it was 4 couples. The first couple were arguing because the husband liked to get manicures and pedicures and shave his chest and generally be clean or something. The wife didn't like that. BORING STUPID STAB STAB STAB. Wives should have a lease, like cars! You should be able to return them after a certain amount of time! Hahahahahaha! And Seinfeld was like "metrosexual, what is that, like, a third gender?" STAB STAB STAB MYSELF IN THE EARS. Gender does not equal sex. Gender does not equal sex. Gender does not equal sex. There are a lot of different genders. Like a lot.

Also; Tom Papa whatever the fuck his name is -- not funny. Worst host ever.

The second couple made me the most angry. The wife bought a diy porch and the husband couldn't put it together and that made her mad so she was like, you're a man you should be hardwired to build things and put porches together

Are you serious, woman? I suppose she also wants to put on her apron and stay in the kitchen and bear children and get rid of her right to vote? Does she leave the house without her husband's permission? stab stab stab stab

Oh hello 21st century, I did not see you there.

Third couple -- the woman flosses in bed. OMG I DON'T EVEN CARE SHOOT ME IN THE FUCKING FACE

Fourth couple -- he takes off his wedding ring to play basketball. He sucks at basketball. Tina Fey says she can take him one on one. I say I will take Tina Fey one on one but not at basketball.

This show looks like it's scripted. The arguments look fake. The arguments are fucking stupid. These couples look like they're not even communicating with each other. Why can't the woman help her husband build the porch? She can't read? She doesn't have arms? I almost recapped this episode except I couldn't bring myself to watch it twice. I can't even bring myself to go back to check if my quotes are right.

What is the point of this show? It doesn't offer solutions to fighting couples, it's just supposed to make us laugh because some woman flosses in bed and some man likes to get his eyebrows waxed. It's not funny. I wanted to kill myself. The Hills is better than this show.

I can't believe this is the "sacred institution" they call marriage. Can we please get rid of this show, and let gays marry? thanks.

Also, Tina Fey -- so beautiful. Worth 42 minutes of permanent cringing face. Howevs, NEVER AGAIN. EVER.

How Do I Loathe Thee, February? Let Me Count The Ways

Let's face it: February fucking sucked. No, seriously. February, the shortest month of the year, felt like it was itself a hundred years long. February sucked the life out of me. I don't know if it's because I'm PMSing or if the world just wants to be annoying, but I can't help but be pissed off at EVERYTHING! RAWR!

February is not the bus that you missed by 1 minute. February is the bus that never came. February left you standing in the wet, wet snow.

February is 3 work shifts and $108. February is not enough money to start a savings account because there are no savings.

February is never leaving your house on weekends. February is a broken promise. February made me spiteful and cynical and bitter.

February is an annotated bibliography.

(February is an exorcise in bullshit.)

February is Monday everyday.

These are my thoughts/feelings:

I am not going to finish A Farewell to Arms.

I need a hair cut.

That's it.

This is why I hated February:

1. Integrative Seminar

2. Text Summaries

3. Ann Veronica

4. This semester fucking sucks?

5. I missed the bus every day by 10 seconds.

6. everything else

I have so much rage it's kind of scaring me. I mean I kind of wanting to elbow an old man in the face yesterday.

There's this song that kind of summarizes how I feel about February, it's called "I Hate Everyone" by Get Set Go and you should listen to it.

Some stupid chick in the check out line

was paying for beer with nickels and dimes

and some old manic with coupons

argued whenever they wouldn't take one.

All I wanted to was buy some cigarettes

but I couldn't take it anymore so I left.

I hate everyone.

Alright. Let's go, March!

Open Letter to the STM and Transit Users

You never fail to frustrate me at least once a day.

To the STM;

I don't know why I should expect reasonable customer service, ever. I can't count the number of times I was yelled at for using student tickets back when tickets still existed, and now I'm forced to pay for a monthly pass if I want the discount. Obvs it was cheaper when I could get 10 reduced fare tickets on my Opus before.

The worst though, are the buses. The buses never run on time. The first bus doesn't come, and the next one comes late. The bus drivers are mean. No, really. A bus driver once gave me false information about the bus that I was on. Maybe it was an accident, but really, shouldn't he know anyway? Once I was accused of fraud by a metro lady.

Also, regular transit fare is expensive. The Opus doesn't work with the trains. The train doesn't even run near me. What's the point of telling me my Opus card expires October 2010 if you're going to make me renew it in 2009? Why do I have to pay $13 to have my Opus renewed?

Thanks for expanding the metro in every direction except west.

I hate you with every fibre of my being.

To transit users;

It's not that I hate you all, but sometimes you just suck the fun out of my day.

Just so we're clear, we're all using public transportation for the same reason: to get somewhere. So, you know, I'm probably just as late for school as you are for work. At the end of the day, I want to get home just as badly as you do. Why do you have to make it so hard?

My number one pet peeve, and this seems to happen every day of my life, is when people stand on the left side of the escalator. This is common knowledge everywhere that on a highway, the left lane is for faster drivers. The further right you are, the slower you go. I know that and I don't even drive. The same applies for the escalator. If you stand on the left side and everyone else stands on the right, you are blocking the entire escalator. Everyone behind you who wants to catch a bus hates your guts and wants you to explode into a pile of dust (or maybe just me). How is it even hard to figure out when the whole left side is open? Here are some things to think about before using the escalator: if you can't make it up the whole way, DON'T DO IT. GET ON THE RIGHT SIDE. DON'T WALK HALFWAY UP, REALIZE YOU'RE GOING TO HAVE AN ASTHMA ATTACK, AND STOP. At the top of the escalator, a lot of people stop walking for some reason. If there are a lot of people behind you, this ends up creating a standing line. Keep walking until you're off the escalator. It's not that scary, I promise.

The other thing that bothers me is the lines for buses. Taking the 470 at anytime from 4-6:30 sucks. Everyone knows that. The line wraps around the sidewalk and overlaps other bus stop lines. In really shitty weather everyone is miserable and cold and wants to go home obviously. But why are you making a second line? I get it that you think you're not going to make the first bus, so you stand "first" in line to be "first" on the next bus that comes, except what you're really doing is butting in front of everyone else who is already in line. Like, I'm in the real line and I miss the first bus, and then you come along and get in this fake second line and the next bus comes and YOU JUST INTEGRATE YOURSELF INTO THE REAL LINE I HATE YOU OMG YOU ARE RUINING MY LIFE

SRSLY

IT'S SO FUCKING COLD OUTSIDE

GET IN LINE LIKE EVERYONE ELSE

Do you know why this irritates me so? Because how do you tell these people what they are doing is cheating and annoying? Like in elementary school is that what they taught you? That it's okay to butt in line? Next time I see you at course change I'm just going to start a new line and go in front of you. FORGET EVER STANDING IN A LINE, I'M JUST GOING TO MAKE MY OWN LINE AND GO WHENEVER I FEEL LIKE IT

Lastly, I don't want to hear your music on the way home. So if you have headphones you should use them. If you have headphones and are using them and I can hear your music over my music then I hate you, I just hate you

I want to rip your headphones from your ears and punch you in the face and make your eyes bleed

Sometimes when I get mad I feel violent. I'm glad I have this blog to rant to or else I might bottle up all my feelings inside and just cry myself to sleep instead. Sidenote I feel like I am blogging autowin style

That is, not using periods

leaving those sentences hanging in mid-air

I Need a 2010 Calendar and a Slice of Bread

For some reason I keep thinking today is Wednesday. I realized I forgot to do the music monday and that I have no concept of time because I'm on break. Yet I still have an English essay to write and I still have to register for next semester. Half the options I want to take are not available. The good news is that I passed science which means that I can graduate next semester granted I pass all my coming courses WHICH I WILL MARK MY WORDS. The terrifying thing is that I have to apply to university soon. The other day I got an email from UBC saying they were accepting undergraduate applications now. I am very scared. I told this to someone while also mentioning that I am scared of everything. Write this down, kids: telling someone you're afraid of everything is not impressive. It makes you look stupid.

Anyways, I'm completely mixed up. The cheery holiday music at work made me sad. This Matt Costa song that doesn't exist on the internet, All I Want For Christmas, came on and I felt all bummy because I was thinking about this person and so I crumpled a little inside. Why am I such a sucker? I don't know. I have things to do. I need to buy a calendar. I need to eat. My room is 5 degrees colder than the rest of the house. Last night my friends wanted to go out but I fell asleep on the bed. I think that means that sometimes I'm not very fun to be around.

So far this holiday season I've been a giant lump who has barely gone outside except to miss the bus or forget my wallet at home. I feel like a grandma because I can barely stay awake past 11. I'm having candy cravings but my teeth are probably going to disintegrate or something. I hate living in the West Island. I'm not buying people Christmas presents. I told my parents not to buy me presents and to tell the rest of the family not to buy me presents. I think I'm just going to buy myself a present. After all, I know what I want. What I do not want is a t-shirt or a sweater so please don't buy me those things. I need ankle socks but no one would think of buying that.

Tomorrow I'm going to do nothing except drink tea and read Ernest Hemingway.

Line Breaks Do Not a Poem Make

Listen, I'm never going to claim that I am a good poet. I think I'm okay. I've never really asked anyone's opinion, nor have I ever let people read much of what I've written. Actually, my poetry teacher from second semester said he liked an edited version of this poem, which was published in the Liberal Arts Anthology last spring. But he may have been lying. Regardless, I don't know if I'm a good poet or not. But I do know one thing: poetry is not a bunch of sentences with line breaks. Nor can you hide run on sentences with line breaks. Poems have a rhythm and beat, and I don't know why people think this means that poems have to rhyme. Rhyming poems are harder because you end up trying to force syllables in places they don't belong. This is a really good rhyming poem. Good luck trying to imitate that in any way. Anyways, don't write really long sentences 'cause it's tiring*. Just as a general rule. Keep that shit short. Concise. Done.

I just really have to get this off my chest.

Like, this is not

a poem because

I split my sentence

into 5 lines

where angels

come down from heaven

and I go off

on tangents

and say random things

that might have something to do

with my topic

and then start new stanzas

for no reason

banana

now I have to

bring this back around

to make this

make sense

can you tell

that I'm making this up

as I go along?

This is not a poem.

Riese has feelings about poetry in school:

I read this essay about how teaching literature in school is ruining it. I think a teacher wrote it. I can't remember. Most teachers in most schools in America are making kids hate books by treating literature like a Periodic Table, especially poetry.

Poetry is a gift and a skill. It's one of the hardest things to do well. Luckily, 'cause there's only a tiny poetry market, so it's a good thing we only have maybe 100 living poets who truly deserve a book of their stuff to be read by lots of people right now.

So making kids memorize poetry is boring. Making kids get pop-quizzed on what record album Holden Caulfield bought his sister is boring, and it misses the very best part of learning and reading poetry and really any kind of literature, which is reacting to it however you want -- rudderless and hopeful -- and I don't have an answer for how to give someone a grade on their emotional response to a work of literature. But I think making kids write poetry is a huge mistake. Let them discover it on their own if they must and if they must than they will. Otherwise they'll just associate poetry with the experience of sucking at something. Poetry will feel miserable to them and it has to feel not like that, it has to feel like the opposite of misery.

Back to me, Emily: Also telling having exercises where kids have to write poetry and you tell them to just write whatever is in their heart/what they feel is no good. Poetry has feelings, yes, but so does your fucking diary.

"If you cannot be a poet, be the poem." - David Carradine

*Unless you can pull it off.**

** but you probably can't.

The Muscles Fought so Long to Control Against the Pull

Today is a big day for someone. Not for me, but for someone else. I'm just going to bear witness to it, I'm going to clap and drink and hide in the bathroom. I hate socializing. People are going to touch my hair and ask me when I'm going to the olympics. They'll point at my tattoo and ask me if it's real. My grandmother will probably make that "tchh!" sound and face and turn away -- why would you ever do something like that to yourself? I'll smile politely. Get another drink. Disappear for extended periods of time -- no one will notice me, it's a huge gathering, I'll just be off there in that gray area, stumbling around. If I had internet on my phone I would maybe live blog. But I don't, so I won't.

Today is the happiest day ever for someone. Right now. I wonder what they think as they wake up? Will I ever think those same thoughts? I don't think I could, knowing what I know and feel and see. It's just not fucking fair. Yesterday I woke up and couldn't feel my fingertips. I had a dream that someone's head was cut into 4 pieces but don't worry 'cause then she got up and killed her brother. I wonder what the happy people dream about.

Today is the greatest day ever for two people, given the opportunity to share their lives together. For others, today is another day denied equal rights, denied understanding and compassion, denied acceptance, denied as being humans. Today is another fight to live their lives as free, honest, loving, caring, etc. people. For some people, today is a day circled on the calendar. This is going to be an anniversary, a celebration -- a cele-fucking-bration! What the fuck are we celebrating? How come only some people get to celebrate? How come only certain people get to be happy? I know -- because everyone is equal, but some are more equal than others.

I cannot go to this wedding with a clear conscience.

--------

[tegan and sara - i was married]

and read this because you should.

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[edit at 1:35 am maybe drunk maybe iu;lk erase and edit this tomorrow probs not[

my thiughts and feelings re: guinuine heterosexual weddings. i think all weddings are genuine. i mean you don't get married thinking that you're gonna break upo with them in a year -- the moment itself is comepletey geniuine and honest and real. regardless of what really happens in 10, 20, 40 years, if they have affairs or have 2.5 kids but really end up hating each other -- they're not getting married with these thoughts in mind. the're thinkling it's gonna be the opposite. they want to beat the odds. that being said, i enjoyed myself qwuite a b it. i wish that i was not such a complete social retard but it was nice because maybe you know thst things like this make me cry. i told you this right? i cry at the olympics and it's not an athlete thing. i'm an idealist in the truest form and though i hate that being straight is super normal and being gay is frowned upon, i'm happy for them. and it doesn't even matter what i think because even though the bride and groom wanted to shasre this day with us it's really about them and they're in love and they don't need our permission. i'm an idealist and i believe in love so i'm glad they celebratied this. i guess the real thing that kills me is that people want to deny thi s same happiness to other people. i mean not in canada, in canada gays and lesbians can get married. but in the majority if the world gays and lesbains are prosecuted and stuff. but i think if these two peple, my cousin and some other guy, if they can fall in love and they want to make this commitment, however silly and caked with religious garbage, why can't anybody else. i think the way we see marriage now in our society is obviosuly not a handing over of the bride as property from one man to another, it's a promse that two peopl are makign to each other to love each other for a really long time, i dont think ti's a religious thing anymore, i eman i don't see why it should be cause they're in lvoe and that's so great and i'm so happy for them kinda i mean i just think they're lucky and i'm glad i was there cause every once in a while i need a reminder that there is good in the wrold. i like to see honest happy people. it makes me cry thinking about it watching them walk down the aisle i mean maybe nedt may 31 who knows what we'll be doing but they're gonna be remembering today. and i don;'t think they'll remember everyone who came or what songs were played or what food they ate. but they'll probably rememer being happy. even if may 31 2010 means they;'re in a fight or the dolphins are exgtinct or there's a power outage, today, tonight was somethign else. i am happy that tonight was full of love and happiness. i only wish that it was more easily shared. it's not fair that part of the world is denied this simple feeling. and i mean just that. i don;t know maybe sometimes it seems hard and stupid, love i mean, feels like it deosn't make sense. but then when you have it for real, like this, it is simple. it is so simple. and life is complicated, always, but love can be simple so why people try to steal its simplicity is beyond me. it cold be so simple.

All I Wanna Do Is Complain And Take Your Money

The new facebook is a piece of shit. As is this asscrack of a computer I'm using instead of my supposedly youthful laptop (still under warranty) which is in the hospital (my uncle's place) undergoing surgery for memory loss (RAM).

In the grand scheme of things I really have nothing to complain about, but when has that ever stopped anyone. No, wait. I hate when people say that. I am grateful that I don't live in a third world country. I am grateful that I have food, not dirt on my plate, and that I actually have a plate to eat it off. But as much as they didn't choose where they were born, neither did I. There's not really much I can do about the shitty life people in third world countries live, besides donate a bit. I could volunteer to help build a school in some place across the Atlantic. Would that satisfy my soul? It's not like I starved the kids and put them there myself. Blame the shitfaced Europeans in the 15th and 16th centuries who thought it would be a good idea to make Africans slaves.

In all honesty, I don't think about dying kids during the course of my day, but I bet you don't either. It makes me sound heartless doesn't it. Because really, they're over there, and I'm here. My life is here. I have real deadlines here. Things that affect me, personally, here. Mememe. Yes it is all about me. And if you're you, you're saying the same thing. It's in our nature to put ourselves first. Maybe volunteers are looking for a special place in heaven. Most likely it's because it makes them feel good about themselves.

I don't even know why I'm ranting about this, I'm mad about something else.

What I really want to rant about is my laptop. I feel empty and nervous without it. It's not the fact that I don't have a computer, obviously I have a computer, it's that my stuff is on it. All my music and pictures and thoughts are on it. The music is the worst, I think. Some people put their records and/or cd's on a shelf; I put mine on my laptop. And it's not like you buy one cd, you've bought them all, no, people have really large collections of music. Imagine if someone came into your house and stole all your cd's? I feel like that. Along with my photo albums, which people also collect. Those things are irreplaceable. Maybe I do sound like a first world asshole complaining about being rich, but anyone who's reading this has a computer too. Also, does the fact that I'm defending myself from criticism I never received mean I have a guilty conscience?

I've been in a bad mood for 2 days. March break sucks.

Day 17: Still Counting

Okay, so I know I've been slacking a little bit on the blog, I apologize to my three devoted readers, one whom I get to see in a week, how exciting!

Anyways, this is what's been going down:

STM workers are still assholes. If I was a cartoon character I would be saying "%*&#^*(*(&^" all the time to them.

I'm going to Washington next week.

My new year's resolution is slowly slipping away from me as I get less and less motivated and more and more tired.

I'm editing a video but 1) the sound is shit
2) it's not very entertaining therefore
3) it's going to be very short therefore
4) I will end up spending massive amounts of time editing something that's probably only going to be 1 minute long therefore
5) my new year's resolution gets put on the backburner

I can't really think of anything else right now. I'm ready for bed but I have to read this chapter for my politics class taught by the human who wins the award for biggest display of douchebaggery ever. That is all.

Day 9: The Inner Workings of my Brain (I can do so much better)

I had three posts written for today. Two were prepared, both do not fit my current mood and therefore will not be posted. The third was written and erased in 8 minutes. I fucking hate people and their fucking expectations. The world is not anything, people are just people, I am tired I cannot be two people at once, why would anyone expect something from me. I don't expect anything from you.

I went to the library today and sat there, words crept into my head and all I had was my notebook for school. I wrote the shit in my brain down in my notebook next to the Principles of Math and Logic. It's ironic, I am not logical. I haven't felt this way in a long time, since the beginning of November. I knew it would come back, it always comes back. So what happens now. I'll never be able to sleep at night, I'll stumble my way through the day, shadowy faces in my peripheral vision, I'm not really looking for anything.. I've figured out what I want. I truly have. It is strange, how those things happen, the realization. Yeah, like, maybe I've got something figured out now. I see myself in the future, I see it, I see it, there it is, I can walk towards it, I can crawl towards it, I have a direction. I'm going somewhere. I can't tell you what I want. It's mine, all mine, I would never write it in my journal though I've been thinking about it since i was six. All the time. You know, that's why people say you always miss the things in front of you. It was sort of relevatory, all of a sudden I knew that this thing that I had dreamed about, imagined, dwelled upon for all my childhood, suddenly I knew that it was possible. That it is SO possible. It's easy. It's hard.

"I love the logic of oxymorons, and how paradox helps us not to feel insane."
- Stephen Dunn "Loves"

I'll be what I am. I'm sorry I hate political correctness, I hate formality with strangers, politeness when the person serving you is a bitch, faking gratitude, I hate presenting a side of me that I'm not. We all have to make our way in life, I know that. Don't get hung up waiting for other people. Don't expect anything from me I'm not who you expect me to be, I'm not that person, I'm not, I'm not I'm not.

I have put this off for far too long.

"I listened in, yes I'm guilty of this, you should know this.
I broke down and wrote you back before you had a chance to.
Forget forgotten I am moving past this, giving notice.
I have to go, yes I know the feeling, know you're leaving."
- Tegan and Sara "The Con"