in the words (and style) of e. e. cummings

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le
af
fa
ll
s)
one
l
iness

A NEW New Song

After spending all of yesterday crying, I was quite drained of all things heavy. I wrote this simple song.


you bring the back up and I'll bring the tune
and we'll sit together one hot afternoon
we don't need a threepiece, we don't need a drum
just play guitar while I hum

you bring the melody, I'll bring the voice
the weather is perfect, the company's choice
I don't need make up, you don't need a shirt
just play guitar while I flirt

you bring the bass line and I'll bring the song
it's a duet so you should sing along
we don't need money and we don't need plans
just play guitar while I dance

you bring the rhythm and I'll bring the blues
we'll turn off our phones and we'll take off our shoes
we don't need much, no we don't need a lot
all that we need we have already got
as long as you're near me, I don't need a thing
just play guitar while I sing


I find it funny because plans and dance barely rhyme when I sing it, but if an Englishman were to sing it, it wouldn't rhyme at all!

I like singing. It makes me feel good. It's important. People don't know it. They're trying to fill holes in the world with money. They see a hole in the world and they fill it with more money and wonder why there are still holes. I know you can fill it with art. It's okay if they don't, because I don't understand the money part. We'll each do our duty. I know my duty is art, even if it goes unnappreciated by the money people. I know it's important. I know it's helping all of us. Even if the money people send me to the street, I'll keep singing and the world will be better for it.

That's what I need to do...not be selfish. I know it seems like art is selfish but I know it's not. I'm going to try and dedicate today to making other people smile (I sound so preachy--there's still a racist homophobe who makes fun of AIDS in here, don't worry...) to see how it feels and then I'll try to do that forever. I'm also going for a jog today. Is it possible for people to change so drastically this quickly? I might as well try.

ps this has been the blog of a crazy person, obviously. I'm just SO weighed down right now, by so many different things, I'm finding it hard to be myself!!!

The (other) Romance Song

when a girl asks you what you're thinking
you should always say "about you,
about your eyes, your smile, and your tiny waist
oh i love you!"

but when i ask you what you're thinking
you say "nothing, nothing at all."
then you grin that vacant boy grin
and you wonder why i am appalled.

but you say
"romance can't be found in three little words
or in flowers or diamonds on a ring.
roses aren't gonna tell you how i feel."
you know i hate it when you're right
and i love picking fights.

why don't you just say what i wanna hear?

what do you think it means to be happy?
how do you think that i should react
when my best friends all become brides?
i'm running out of tact!

i don't hear "dear, i'll always be with you
'cause our love is the forever kind!"
though you care, i compare when i'm drowning in couples
there's no out of sight out of mind.

and you say
"romance can't be found in three little words
or in flowers or diamonds on a ring.
roses aren't gonna tell you how i feel."
you know i hate it when you're right
and i love picking fights

why don't you just say what i wanna hear?

when i step back i see that i'm happy,
i just glow and i know that it's always for you!
you don't need to feed my girly obsessions--
i only want you.

if you tell me all of your secrets
if you let me in on the joke
if you make me your partner in crime
i'll make you the worlds happiest bloke.

i know romance can't be found in three little words
or in flowers or diamonds on a ring
roses aren't gonna tell me how you feel
i know you're always right
i won't put up a fight

what you say is just what i wanna hear.

My Swiss Family

I didn't mention this on any blog, but I lost my hotmail and facebook accounts a lot of months ago! It's kind of a good thing because I don't have to re-add all my old grade school "friends" but it's a HORRIBLE thing because it means I lost so many contacts, especially my SWISS FAMILY who I've been dying to talk to for so long!!!!!!!!!!!!

My overseas friends, please contact me at my new email address riceclaire@gmail.com or on skype! I added you, but you haven't accepted, I guess you're never on it.

I miss you all so so much! I'm desperate to know how everyone's doing, how big the kiddies are, if the house is finished, everything! Please let me know! I love you!

Learn From My Triumphs, Not My Mistakes

Dude, when you like, do stuff, and get shit done, shit gets done and it feels good!

I should do this more often.

I Want

I'm a little self absorbed. A lot. I'm an actress. I think it's in my blood. I'm also absorbed in the people around me, the ones I like anyway. If I weren't in a hole, I'd focus on making all of our lives better.



I'm confused about what I want. I'm craving permanance and excitement at the same time. Thrills and reassurance. I can't have that. Like...I was thinking of "stuff" I want and one of the first things I thought of was a home. I want a place to be my permanant home. My life is so temporary. I want my place with my things in my neighbourhood. With EG. Who feels like home. But then I think about it, and I don't care where I live. I want to travel, I want to live everywhere and anywhere. I do want to be with EG. With him, I'll have security everywhere I go. I'll have thrills within reassurance.



I want babies. I really don't want babies. (note to all blogging buddies who don't want babies at all--don't judge, we're all different! I feel a really strong pull and it's coming from my uterus. Deal with it.) I really do because in my mind, a family represents a part of my life where I have my shit together. I really don't because I'm not ready and most of me doesn't need my shit together! It's the rest of the world telling me how I have to be!



I don't want to work, but I really want to feel like I'm accomplishing something, paying off my debt by myself, taking care of myself and my life (and my cat).



I want to get skinny but I want the world to love me the way I look now. (that's an old one, but it will aply forever.)



I want to go to England, but I want EG to come here.



I want to go back to school and get my masters in Scotland but I want to start my career right now and never be a student again.



I want to be my best friend's maid of honour, but I want her to be mine! I'm completely resigned to the fact that I won't be getting married for a long time, I'm happy with it, but I'm so jealous that how can I be happy with it???



I really just want to live off the land, go swimming every day, make art and music, learn to cook, stroll into an orchard and grab a peach, drink interesting red wine and dance after twilight in a flowy dress. Is there a way to live like that?


There's a line in Cabaret: Suppose simply keeping still means you manage until the end.

What I don't want is to survive my life keeping still. I want to live my life. I want to move. So I guess I need to suffer sometimes. It means I'm living.

*Next blog, I'll talk about other people...

This Side of February

Wow, it's been a really long time, but I'm kind of tapped out. Everything I feel like writing about, I've already written about.

You know I love EG, you know I love performing, you know I'm broke. That's pretty much my life right now...

I'm in a bit of a rut, as you know, but feeling good about it. I'm moving in with my mom again! I'm excited! It's going to be such fun, we're going to redecorate all three bedrooms (and I'm going to convince her to do the living room too...) and it'll be an awesome bonding experience before I go away with my man for the summer. I can save, pay off debt, chill with my home-homeys, bogart my mom's long distance plan, eat 3 meals a day--oh my god, my mom and I can exercise together! I'm going to get the fuck in shape! Sweet. Yes, I'm really looking forward to March. It's going to be a good month.

This is a good month too. I'm a performer. I love it. It makes me horny. I want to do it forever.

EG wants me to do it forever. He's so supportive. He said he gets breathless thinking about the show and really feels he's missing out by not seeing it. He can only afford 100 pounds for a plane ticket, but the cheapest I could find is 200. (Couldn't I have found that in December?) I miss him so much. Waking up without him is the hardest. Going to bed has been easy because I'm so tired, but I want him in the morning. It has a bigger effect on me than the winter's lack of sunlight. I feel actual heartache. I hope my absence makes his heart grow fonder. I think it is. It's funny, I kind of miss being in his bed more than I miss him being in my bed. I loved it there. But that might simply have to do with the fact that I had no responsibilities when I was there. I love taking care of him, but I don't have the means! When we go on vacation, it'll be every man for himself. Well, I've kind of decided that he'll pay for the food and I'll cook it and eat a fifth of what he eats. Fair? I think so.

Well, that's my new blog. Incoherent mumbling, unorganised rambling, girly prattling. You love me.

How do you feel, Alathariel?

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i love him.

Mini Me

I had a dream that I had a baby girl. My cousins and I were taking pictures of her, "ooh she's so cute!" ing her, saying how much she looked like me. Well, she was me. It was weird. I know what I looked like when I was a baby, so naturally that's what a dream baby of mine would look like. She was adorable. In my dream she was nearly two. (When people become parents, they count the baby's months until the kid is 4 years old. It's annoying.)

Dreams have huge impacts on our lives. I want a baby. I did before, but seeing this wonderful little mini me made me want one more.

But ...psychologists might say that I want my childhood back. And I do. I want to be new again (to quote Adaptation).

But... also, I just want a baby. I want my little girl. I think Isabella. Or Isabelle. Izzie, either way. And I want my little boy who is nameless at the moment but he will be a mini EG. Who wouldn't want a mini EG? My little gentlman and little lady. Life will certainly be so good. It's so good now, but babies would give me something more. Being a nanny all the time shows me how wonderful it is to have kids. Once, the mom in Switzerland, who seemed pretty stressed about the day to day mundane-ness that is work, was playing with her baby and she suddenly said: "Oh, have kids, Alathariel, it's the best thing that will ever happen to you."

I want the best thing that will ever happen to me!

If You Try Sometimes

You just might find you get what you need?

The operative words here being "sometimes" and "might."

I know someone who is a lucky, lucky girl.

I love her very much. She's my best friend, I've always wanted to be like her. She's a wonderful human being, full of light and energy and together we are going to take the world by storm!

She doesn't need anything. Well, that's not true, she needed a boy. A Nice Boy. And she's found one.

Once she found him, she didn't need anything. She owns a place, she has no debt, she has a job she's good at and parents to fall back on if anything goes wrong. She has great friends who love her, she has the coolest clothes in the world and she is full of good times. In need of nothing.

But she's getting EVERYTHING. Everything she's ever wanted. No, actually, she's getting everything I ever wanted. How is that fair? She doesn't want a house and a marriage and babies! But she's getting them! She didn't need financial stability! But she's getting it.

I don't begrudge her these things, I'm happy for her! I want her to be happy. But why can't I have them, too?

Karma must be real. Hers is amazing and mine is shot. I guess I'll work on it and see what happens. I'll try sometimes and get what I need.

Limbo

I am in a sickening rut. When I'm with a friend, or anyone really, I feel good. I'm on, I'm happy, I'm me. When I'm talking to EG, I feel good, I'm on, I'm happy, I'm me. When I'm alone...I'm lost. I'm stuck. I can't sit down, that's too lazy. I can't stand up, I don't know what to do. I feel completely overwhelmed with responsibility and loneliness.

I can't get myself out. I need people. I need people to kick my ass, but everyone I love is so fucking understanding!

Sleepless

Can someone stop me from thinking EG is sleeping with someone else just because I don't hear from him at night?

Except what I really need is someone to stop me from caring that he is.

The Rain in Spain Stays Mainly in the Plain

This is going to be a good blog. Not because of the writing. Because of the content.

I told EG about the Die Vampire, Die! song because he wasn't sure if he was an artist, and that's a vampire. And I said we'd kill all the vampires in our way. And he loved the idea, and he said he loved killing vampires. He wants to go to Spain for the summer to learn Spanish and he asked what I thought about that. I said it would be killing lots of vampires to do so and that I liked the idea! ...but that I like all of his ideas more when they involve me. So the next message said:  "Princesse Alathariel, there's no one like you. Would you like to live in Spain with me for the Summer?"

So...guess what I'm doing this summer?

The I'm -copying-everyone-else New Year's Post!

New Years and stuff...hmm.

Well, last year, I wanted the stuff from the Wizard of Oz:  Brains, Heart, Courage and Home.

I think I'm a little smarter.

I definitely use my heart the way I'd like to.

I don't know about courage...hmm...Have I been brave lately? I think so. I could always be braver.

I don't feel at home yet. In Toronto, in my apartment, in my own skin.

I miss my lovah. More than anything. All I can do is achieve my new new years resolutions (we made them together right before midnight on Dec 31st, at the lodge where we went skiing!):

1. Get out of debt. This is the most important thing in my life right now. How depressing is that? How boring! Oh well, it's necessary.

2. Get an agent.  yup, I'm on my way.

3. Get three paying gigs. Must get agent first.

4. Put on 3 Bottom's Dream (my theatre company) shows. One's booked for March, 2 are being written.

5. Get in shape. Again, boring. But it doesn't have to be. I just want to be skinny and healthy and glowing all the time. And I want to be able to take the stairs without losing my breath. 

Now I want all these things for myself...but is it bad that my main motivation is EG? I want him to love me and want to see me all the time. I feel like accomplishing these things quickly and spectacularly will result in us being together forever.

How I miss him. 

But I'm trying to stay positive. I keep telling myself I'm amazing and I will accomplish everything I need to and then I'll be so happy and happy people get what they want. Or is it people who get what they want become happy? Oh well, I think it's cyclical and I'm doing it.  I'm fucking spectacular and therefore I will get what I want.

I should probably get back to work now.

Office Musings

None of the blog circle read my most recent post.

But EG did. And he freaked out. Because I'm a psychopath.

And I learned something again.

He's always right.

I also learned that I love him more than I thought I did.

It really did sound like I'm not happy, like I want more.

I don't want more for now. I'm happy for now. But I managed to make him understand that the fear kicks in because I know the exact date when I won't be happy anymore.

I wrote all that because a) I wanted to get it out, and indeed, I didn't really think of it since I wrote it, and b) I'm trying not to give all the marvelous details. I'm trying to add a little mystique to this experience. I can't tell you all what the sex is like. I just can't, it's too good. I can't tell you what sleeping with him or waking with him is like. It's too amazing. I can't tell you how fucking fantastic it feels every time he kisses me in thanks for a meal, or holds my hand, or laughs at my accent, or makes me laugh like a child, or shows me his dissertation, or looks at me.

It's too perfect to discuss. I'm just living it.

Well, not now, now I'm at work, wishing I was at home with him. I hope I can leave early, his smell is starting to leave my senses and I want it back in there. I want to immerse myself in all things English Gentleman until the second he has to leave me. 

I will not think about that moment until that moment.

I will not break down until then.

Just a Girl

Just as I predicted. I'm in heaven.

Pure bliss.

Interrupted occasionally with near tear experiences triggered by sudden fear of never seeing this perfect man ever again, or the terrifying fact that he says I'm "the best," something my ex insisted on saying in lieu of "I love you."

I've had friends explain why I neeeeeed to hear the words. I've had friends say it's unimportant, and I've had friends look immediately bewildered, angry and worried upon learning he hasn't said it yet.

I want not to neeeeeed him to say it. But I want him to say it. Will it solve all my problems if he simply says it? If I hear him say it, will it make me believe he'll want to see me again? That he'll try to see me again? That he'll want to move here? That he'll continue to keep me wet all day long and fuck me mercilessly all my life? That he'll support me forever and keep me warm and safe in his big arms for as long as we both shall live?

I don't think so. I would not expect all those things if he told me he loved me. So why does he feel all the pressure? Is that the problem? That he feels pressure? I'm pretty pushy about this, I guess. I scared the last one. But this one's different. He doesn't scare so easily.

So what's the problem? Does he not love me? Has he met me? What's not to love?

Does he just not say it? To anyone, ever? If we get to be together forever, I wouldn't mind if he never said it.

So someone remind me why I neeeeed to hear it? He's HERE. It was hell to get him here, on my side and on his. He's happy here. Happy with me.

Qu'est-ce que fuck is my problem?????

But also, qu'est-ce que fuck is his problem? Why won't he just say it????? This is agony! Looking up into his perfect light marble blue eyes and watching him kiss my hand with the softest deep pink plush lips in the world, hearing his views on anything, the fact that he makes football seem like an art, the fact that he worships my voice, tells me never to let anyone make me feel bad because I'm an "amazing woman," reading his brilliant paper, his arrogance, his wonky tooth, his accent, his manners, his mannerisms, his long body, his nakedness, his dick, his nose, his gifts, his surprises, his sharpness, his softness, his oohs, his kisses.

The best kind of agony, but agony nonetheless.

That makes it sound like not heaven, not bliss. It is heaven, it is bliss.

I'm just a girl.

A Little More Action

Sex sex sex. That's what's on my mind. The sex part of EG's Great Canadian Food Sex and Football Christmas Adventure is exciting me to no end. I have been looking up games online, positions in books, thinking of my own fun mystery objects, treats and activities!

If any of you are feeling particularly sexual, wanna give me some ideas? Tips? Games? Positions? Anything is welcome and just waiting to be tried!

I can't wait to have sex with EG! A million times a day please. If he's not eating or watching football, he should be fucking me. That's the rule of this trip.

I really am going to be sore by the end of this...

Drunken Texts, Censorship and Body Odour

 I just wrote a lot only to delete it all realising I haven't blogged certain details that might be crucial to this rant.

So about two weeks ago, I saw Enchanted (best movie ever!) and instantly felt like a lovely, innocent, naive princess who believes whole heartedly in true, true love who suddenly finds herself in the "real world" where there are no happy endings. I didn't want to make EG suffer my insanity, so I decided to get really drunk and text my ex, yelling at him for saying he was "still very much in love" with me. I thought I had a good reason! I was scared that it was going to be like that with all boys! That they would freak out when I said the dreaded word, and then when I had enough of their fear and reluctance, they would suddenly realise that they loved me more than life itself. That's a horrible fate! So I thought if I could yell at my ex, I'd purge myself of that fear and be able to believe in true, true love without doubt, no matter how little the object of my desire says. He is a big strong man after all, I don't want a pansy. 

Follow? I wouldn't blame you if you said no.

So I start texting him and he texts back all offended and REASONABLE! What the hell right does he have to be rational and logical and reasonable when I want a fight?!? Anyway, he made some really good points, but I still think I'm right. He said he thinks it's right that we're not together but he's still in love with me. I say, that's not love. He said I had no right to claim I'm the only one who knows what love is, and that there are different kinds of love. Okay, but isn't it pretty straight forward at least on one point: If you love someone, you want to be with them! He doesn't love me, not in any big way, or else he'd fight for me. I'm right here! If you love me, then you want to be with me! If you don't want to be with me, then you don't love me! Jeez. 

Anyway, at around 3am our time, 8am England time, I get a call from EG! I was so excited "EG!" I cried, "You called me when you woke up! How lovely!" and he said, in his beautiful English Accent: "I just got this text. It says 'Because I'm drunk and it's true. And I want to deal with this with you so I don't have to deal with it with EG.' What does that mean?" INSTANT TEARS. I explained everything and he was very upset but the conversation ended with him making me giggle and we're fine now. Better than fine! He's coming soon!  I'm so excited! Anyway, I kept getting more texts from my ex and I finally sent back "forget it, I'm done." 

Bitch, I know.

He said "okay, I hope everything works out for you and if you want to try again to be friends someday, just let me know."

Asshole, right?

So! The other day, I got an email from my ex saying he was in Montreal doing his LSATs and he was feeling lonely so he checked my facebook (big mistake) and it made him sad, and then he read ALL my blogs since we broke up. WTF! The crazy thing is that he said it made him feel better! He understands now! He understands everything! He said he gets what I wanted and how he couldn't give it to me and he hopes he can find what I found one day! What a weirdo. But what a relief! Anyway, I definitely have to send him a HUGE apology for being such a bitch.

What I wanted to discuss was censorship. We're about due for another censorship discussion, right?

Is blogging when you don't want someone to read your blog just as bad as talking behind someone's back? But it's not like gossip because it's about me! How I feel about someone! But knowing he's could very possibly read this, is it wrong to post something that will surely offend him? I like getting my feelings out this way, via blog. It makes little passing thoughts into momentous events preserved forever on the world wide web. It's as close as I'm going to get to immortality, and I want a little piece of that. I'd rather keep a scrapbook containing millions of little things or big things or medium things than forget it all. I'd rather keep memoirs in blog form than keep these thoughts to myself. I need to clean out my head and read what was in there in a pretty purple font on a pink page followed by funny or helpful comments from those whose opinions I value.

So I'm gonna go with No, it's not wrong. I'm easily swayed to the argument that lets me do what I want. 

Here's what I wanted to say.

I work with my ex's brother. I don't know if this is possible, but they are EXACTLY the same person. Is it possible? It can't be. Each calls the other "weird" but I have not observed ONE difference in personality, mannerisms, voice, smell, idiosyncrasies. It's insane. 

Now, here's the funny thing. 

About a month ago, said brother's smell made me feel a little sad and nostalgic. The smell of his sweater, really. My ex's laundry was always the best. Perfect boyfriend sweaters, the kind you just want to steal. The brother's body odor (gross as it sounds) used to make me feel sad and nostalgic too. Like a fond sigh remembering good times. 

Now, everything he says and does and smells like makes me want to scream! Okay, not that extreme, but bro just walked by and his smell made me nauseous. How is that possible? How did I become so disgusted by something that used to make me excited, happy, wet, comfortable, sad and nostalgic? 

I don't understand it. I just wanted to fill the world in on what walking by can do to a person. We are powerful!

what do you want from me?/is that so much to ask?

What do you want from me? My last post was super serious! I feel like I have nothing just because I don't have any money! For people who have it, or who are getting by, it may not seem like anything, it may seem funny that I'm counting pennies to take the subway, that I'm avoiding my roommates, some friends, the bank, the creditors and my own poor mother, that I'm going into banks and begging for loans that they shouldn't give me, that I'm lying to EVERYONE about anything to do with money and hurting people who don't deserve it in the process. But it's not funny at all. It's devastating.

I really feel like I've hit rock bottom, but the worst part is, there's far lower to go! I could get myself and my roommates evicted and have to live with my mom who has no room for me. And she doesn't really have to take me in because I, for lack of a more fitting word, steal from her. Consistently. And she can't afford me anyway. So there is lower to go and I'm afraid that there's some ridiculous Karma rule that I have to end up as low as I can go before I'm allowed to get better again. Not better, not again, I've never been good. I mean I have to hit the bottom before I can rise up a little for the first time. I know what to do now, really. I'm a law clerk! I make money! But I can't catch up! I don't know what to do to get myself to the point where I can do what I know to do. You know?

I talk a lot about winning the lottery, being a trophy wife, a gazillionaire. Oh the things I could do! I could own a private jet and see EG whenever I wanted! I could take my best friends on shopping sprees around the world! I could start a theatre, a warrior princesse TV show, a movie production company, a children's book store, a music label, a campaign against directors who only cast skinny people! I could get a personal trainer, a nutritionist, a personal chef, a stylist, a tailor! I could have a castle that comes to life with the wave of a wand and choice latin words spoken only in my voice. I could have a condo in Toronto, London, New York, a cottage in BC, on the Isle of Wight, somewhere in New Zealand...

I could have all those things, but I'm not asking for them. I just want to start fresh. I just want to be at zero.

Is that so much to ask?

Ain't Got No/I Got Life

ain't got no cash,
ain't got no shoes,
ain't got no bus pass,
ain't got no bread,
ain't got no work clothes,
ain't got no computer,
ain't got no ipod,
ain't got no umbrella,
ain't got no rent checks,
ain't got no skype,
ain't got no medicine,
ain't got no contacts,
ain't got no conditioner,
ain't got no milk,
ain't got no socks,
ain't got no razors,
ain't got no underwear,
ain't got no birth control pill,
ain't got no eyes on me (that means respect from the kids I teach)
ain't got no dentist
ain't got no christmas gifts
ain't got no winter boots
ain't got no bike
ain't got no lingerie
ain't got no long distance plan
ain't got no 20-20 vision


I got my head
I got my hands
I got my mind
I got my feet
I got my tits
I got my mouth
I got my hair
I got my sense of humour
I got my shimmy
I got my blog
I got my friends
I got my room
I got my hat
I got my ears
I got my EG
I got my songs
I got my books
I got my vibrator
I got my script
I got my voice
I got my memories
I got my ass
I got my plans
I got my tea
I got my mom
I got my dreams

I got life
life
life
life
LIFE!