I live in what I call "The Music House." Not a very creative title because all of my four roommates are musicians. Freezing in here, we say it's like camping in the winter. It's an extremely fun house with zany themed parties and I'm so glad I live here.
Two of my roommates are together and share the room next to mine. Now, when I moved in, there was already a bed. A really big bed that I can't move. For some reason, the guy who lived here before me decided it was appropriate to put the bed against the shared (paper thin) wall.
Do you see where I'm going with this?
I'm not complaining about the loud sex that keeps me up every night--I don't want to be quiet when I have sex and I don't think anyone else should be forced to be quiet either. But dude. My sex lives in Loughborough, England and I live in Vancouver, BC, Canada.
In other news, I'm totally gonna have sex in 2 days. A LOT of sex. Really really good sex. Kinky, filthy, wicked, unable to sit for days sex.
p.s. The title of this post is not me using poetic license, they're actual breathless words I am hearing right now.
Wednesday, December 17, 2008
Tuesday, December 16, 2008
Gimme Gimme
Friends, I need help. Serious help. I am so obsessed with weddings/marriage that this is what I spend my time online doing:
*looking for pretty/dainty/unique/antique/special/magical engagement rings (there are none woven from pixie hair, which is what I really want, but I've found some that kind of look like it).
*looking for perfect wedding dresses. I can't decide what I want because I really want something simple and flowing, but I also would love uber complicated and uncomfortable and corset-y, know what I mean?
*watching "perfect proposals" on youtube.
I have a disease. What is wrong with me? EG a) won't propose soon, b) won't propose within two years and c) might never propose at all. Why am I torturing myself? Why do I think that's my dream come true? It's not, my real dream is to perform all the time and yes, have my man at home when I'm at home, happy and fulfilled with his passions and career, excited to see me every time he sees me. Really, is that so much to ask? No. Do I need a proposal that rivals those on youtube or in the movies? ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Is it fair to say that five weddings in one year and my best friend getting preggers have influenced the way my brain works? Yes. Although, I will admit I've always wanted a fun/pretty/perfect/magical/unique/exciting/more magical dress, ring and wedding. But the obsession has reached a point...the highest point, I think.
I hope.
I don't think I can be more obsessed than I am now. Someone gave me ticketmaster gift certificates and I couldn't find anything EG and I would enjoy over Christmas, so I was actually considering using them when I get back to Vancouver on a BRIDAL SHOW. I'm not a bride!!! I might never be a bride!!! What has happened to me???
What is it about weddings? ...Other than the obvious--the promise of being with the person I love who loves me for as long as we both shall live and getting to be the centre of attention in the prettiest dress I'll ever own with the most beautifully magical hair I'll ever have with everyone telling me how beautiful I look, speeches being made about me and my love, toasting our happiness, kissing every time someone dings a glass, singing, dancing, discussing the happy years that are to come.
Other than that dream come true, and the fact that other peoples' wedding related happiness was thrown in my face way too much this whole year, why am I obsessed?
*looking for pretty/dainty/unique/antique/special/magical engagement rings (there are none woven from pixie hair, which is what I really want, but I've found some that kind of look like it).
*looking for perfect wedding dresses. I can't decide what I want because I really want something simple and flowing, but I also would love uber complicated and uncomfortable and corset-y, know what I mean?
*watching "perfect proposals" on youtube.
I have a disease. What is wrong with me? EG a) won't propose soon, b) won't propose within two years and c) might never propose at all. Why am I torturing myself? Why do I think that's my dream come true? It's not, my real dream is to perform all the time and yes, have my man at home when I'm at home, happy and fulfilled with his passions and career, excited to see me every time he sees me. Really, is that so much to ask? No. Do I need a proposal that rivals those on youtube or in the movies? ABSOLUTELY NOT!
Is it fair to say that five weddings in one year and my best friend getting preggers have influenced the way my brain works? Yes. Although, I will admit I've always wanted a fun/pretty/perfect/magical/unique/exciting/more magical dress, ring and wedding. But the obsession has reached a point...the highest point, I think.
I hope.
I don't think I can be more obsessed than I am now. Someone gave me ticketmaster gift certificates and I couldn't find anything EG and I would enjoy over Christmas, so I was actually considering using them when I get back to Vancouver on a BRIDAL SHOW. I'm not a bride!!! I might never be a bride!!! What has happened to me???
What is it about weddings? ...Other than the obvious--the promise of being with the person I love who loves me for as long as we both shall live and getting to be the centre of attention in the prettiest dress I'll ever own with the most beautifully magical hair I'll ever have with everyone telling me how beautiful I look, speeches being made about me and my love, toasting our happiness, kissing every time someone dings a glass, singing, dancing, discussing the happy years that are to come.
Other than that dream come true, and the fact that other peoples' wedding related happiness was thrown in my face way too much this whole year, why am I obsessed?
Wednesday, December 10, 2008
Suicide and Babies
There are a lot of things happening, kind of, but it doesn't feel like it...I don't know. Here's what's going on:
First of all, I'm reading A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby again. These characters are just phenomenal. The things they come up with genuinely make me cry often and laugh constantly. And the fact that I relate to them so well make me think I'm suicidal. Not suicidal in that I've ever truly wanted to die, just that I seem to have a lot in common with the people who do. Minus the killing myself part.
Here's a quote:
"A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down."
That's often how I feel! But I am certain I'm not a man who wants to die. I don't. I want to fix things. But I've kind of curled up in a ball and hid in a cupboard somewhere. The problem I'm finding with that is--your brain/heart/conscience/soul/life doesn't just stop working when you do that. You still think, feel, ache, move, breathe and the "fucking shambles" that your life has become gets worse. Still doesn't make me want to die--makes me want to hide harder, actually. But surely only an insane person would keep hiding after finding hiding doesn't work.
The good thing about the book is that they're not really suicidal in the end anymore. There is hope.
Now, completely unrelated, here's what else is in my head: EG loves to travel. He calls himself "A Citizen of the World!" He wants to, not visit, but live in many different places around the globe. I fully support this, as long as he knows I'm coming with him. But there are two problems--and if you're reading this, EG, I hope we've talked about it by now, it's not something I wanted to discuss over the phone, know what I mean?--and they are big problems. 1. I want to start having babies by the time I'm 30. I actually want to start now, but it would be better to start when I'm 30. Now, I understand that he's a year and a half younger than me, so even if we saw totally eye to eye on this, I might still have to wait 'til I'm 31. And I can do that. So that leaves us 4 and a bit years to live in different places around the globe. Surely that's enough time to decide where you want to live, right? Aha, but herein lies the second problem--I already know where I want to live and it has nothing to do with the city itself, the laws, the flora and fauna, the crime statistics--it's where my family is. Not in the suburbs, never that, but in the city next to the suburbs where said family lives. How can I ensure that his adventures around the world will lead him to the city from whence I came???
Truly a dilemma. And we only have 18 days together over Christmas--how can one of those precious hours be spent crying and possibly finding out that he will absolutely not want to live in my city and that he feels fine waiting until he's 40 to have kids because he can just find a 25 year old who's ripe and ready?
I am continually perplexed that there are so many marriages and babies happening around me and none of them are mine.
First of all, I'm reading A Long Way Down by Nick Hornby again. These characters are just phenomenal. The things they come up with genuinely make me cry often and laugh constantly. And the fact that I relate to them so well make me think I'm suicidal. Not suicidal in that I've ever truly wanted to die, just that I seem to have a lot in common with the people who do. Minus the killing myself part.
Here's a quote:
"A man who wants to die feels angry and full of life and desperate and bored and exhausted, all at the same time; he wants to fight everyone and he wants to curl up in a ball and hide in a cupboard somewhere. He wants to say sorry to everyone, and he wants everyone to know just how badly they've all let him down."
That's often how I feel! But I am certain I'm not a man who wants to die. I don't. I want to fix things. But I've kind of curled up in a ball and hid in a cupboard somewhere. The problem I'm finding with that is--your brain/heart/conscience/soul/life doesn't just stop working when you do that. You still think, feel, ache, move, breathe and the "fucking shambles" that your life has become gets worse. Still doesn't make me want to die--makes me want to hide harder, actually. But surely only an insane person would keep hiding after finding hiding doesn't work.
The good thing about the book is that they're not really suicidal in the end anymore. There is hope.
Now, completely unrelated, here's what else is in my head: EG loves to travel. He calls himself "A Citizen of the World!" He wants to, not visit, but live in many different places around the globe. I fully support this, as long as he knows I'm coming with him. But there are two problems--and if you're reading this, EG, I hope we've talked about it by now, it's not something I wanted to discuss over the phone, know what I mean?--and they are big problems. 1. I want to start having babies by the time I'm 30. I actually want to start now, but it would be better to start when I'm 30. Now, I understand that he's a year and a half younger than me, so even if we saw totally eye to eye on this, I might still have to wait 'til I'm 31. And I can do that. So that leaves us 4 and a bit years to live in different places around the globe. Surely that's enough time to decide where you want to live, right? Aha, but herein lies the second problem--I already know where I want to live and it has nothing to do with the city itself, the laws, the flora and fauna, the crime statistics--it's where my family is. Not in the suburbs, never that, but in the city next to the suburbs where said family lives. How can I ensure that his adventures around the world will lead him to the city from whence I came???
Truly a dilemma. And we only have 18 days together over Christmas--how can one of those precious hours be spent crying and possibly finding out that he will absolutely not want to live in my city and that he feels fine waiting until he's 40 to have kids because he can just find a 25 year old who's ripe and ready?
I am continually perplexed that there are so many marriages and babies happening around me and none of them are mine.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
