Movie stah status

    "Well, Happy Birthday!"
    "Thanks! See you next time!"
    "Yup." I start to make my retreat out of the basement. She calls once more to my back.
    "Hey, are you still seeing that really good looking guy?"
    "Huh? Oh, yeah. Yes I am."
    "Ah. That's good!"
    "Yeah, thanks." A smile toys on my lips.
...

    She drags me into the next room, away from where the others have paused to admire the new kitchen.
    "You didn't tell me you were bringing someone like that!" Her voice rasps as she tries to keep it down.
    "Yes I did! I TOLD you when I called you!"
    "Yes, I know, but you didn't tell me how GOOD LOOKING he was going to be!"
    "Huh?"
    "If I'd have known, I would have tried to look more decent!"
    "But...I...it doesn't...he's with..."
    "Where do you FIND an asian that good looking?!"
    I give up and just laugh. At her.
...

    "Wah! Look like movie stah!"
...

Who would've guessed? I mean, I KNEW, but I didn't realized everyone ELSE would too. Better than last time, I guess. :)

Chromed

I've decided I rather like the new browser: Google Chrome. It's fast, it's simple, it's clean. I use it both at home and at work, and am so far very pleased with its functionality.


The ONLY thing, is that it totally baits me out at work as to which are my most visited pages...hahaha

Bewitched

    "It is well to give when asked, but it is better to give unasked."
    --Khalil Gibran
...

I would like to have been able to say: "Go away. Get out of my life. Ever since I first met you, everything has been a hell. All I want is for you to come here, put your arms around me and kiss me, and say you want to stay with me forever, but that never happens.
--page 252

    That was the only time I dared to ask her: "Why do you love me?"
    She replied: "I don't know and I don't care."
    Now, as I put the finishing touches to these pages, I believe I may have found the answer in her last conversation with the journalist.
    Love simply is.
--page 268

"The Witch of Portobello" by Paulo Coelho

...

It wasn't until halfway through the book that I realized "oh, that Portobello. Hey, I was there!"

Dork.

Kick 'em while they're down!

Further to my inside knowledge, I happen to know that other individuals are trying to take advantage of the slanderous situation, preparing letters to enforce what the newspaper article claimed. In a business sense, I suppose that that's pretty smart, but from my POV here on the inside, it's a vicious cycle. Taking wrong information and spreading it. I guess that IS how vicious rumours start, isn't it?

It's amazing how lightning fast things happen when the right spark hits the right spot.

Letters of defense, letters of libelous nature (I just learned that word), and just plain reactions are whizzing around. It's almost exciting. ;)

On an almost side-note, it's interesting to see that despite higher levels of education and mastery of specific professional practices, some people are still just really bad writers.

Starring: my thoughts

Geez, it's been a while--welcome back, eh?
...

Russell Peters does a little bit in his new routine, Red, White, and Brown, about how the media tell you what to think. There isn't a clip or transcript online just yet, but the gist of it goes that the news will report a robbery and then describe the alleged suspect and then allow you to draw your own conclusion about anyone who might look like the alleged suspect. "Bad thing happened, dark-skinned character lurking about...I don't know...what do you think now about dark-skinned characters?"

(that was a horrible recount of the sketch...sorry)

Anyway, while it was a funny conclusion to draw on stage, it was an interesting point of reference to compare to when I had my own run in with the media this weekend. Now, without saying too much, long story short is that the one and only paper I ever even glance at ran an article (front page, no less) about a story I happened to be privy to the factual details of.

The whole three pages were nothing short of slanderous of the main character of interest, and perhaps deservingly so. But it was the light cast on the other parties that were drawn into this character's tangled web of personal and business associations that didn't seem fair to me. Again, saving the details, names were wrong (even though upon the second mentions of them later in the article they got them right), details were incorrect, and actual face-saving facts were left out.

Being an slackingly aspiring writer myself, I know that when I have my own agenda to put into words, not much will be able to change my tone of voice or the selection of details that I will choose to share. But then, when I write, it's mostly for my own interest and sanity, not to impose an omnipotent opinion on my (few) readers. When the newspaper publishes something, it IS to impose an opinion and (now, as I see it) biased view on its readers.

I don't know...what do you think?

And no one will ever know about the details the author got wrong. Few will notice the misspelling of the name in the article. For sure none will even guess at the redeeming factors left in the wings. And, chances are that if the main character of interest from the article gets cleared of all of the allegations made against him in the story, the author won't be back to write an apology article.

Such was my lesson in life from this weekend.

I spent the first part of my morning re-reading the article online and following the links the author had gathered to "corroborate" his story. I also took a chunk of time reading the comments that other readers had to share about the article. It was really interesting to see how many were for and against the writer's point. It was also kind of refreshing to note I wasn't the only one who raised an eyebrow.

Damn bio-clock

It feels like it's been 10:36am all day.

Holy crap!

Today's Tuesday!

I've been in my own little black hole of time and space lately. Absolutely NOT a case of time flying because it was fun. Let's not get confused here. :)
...

In other news, after speaking with Boo, it just dawned on me just how LITTLE cash I actually have. I'm not necessarily poor, but I don't exactly sleep on a mattress full of money either. sheesh...the little things you might overlook.

However, that just makes it doubly attractive to head to Starbucks tomorrow to get a free coffee in my earth-friendly travel mug!

Simple things

A smile, a voice, no promises, and I felt a lot better.

Misery without company

I trust blindly
I fall deeply
I love wrecklessly
...

It's miserable out; though if that's supposed to be pathetic fallacy, the weather's got a long way to go to catch up.
...

I refuse to give up on my dreams, no matter how many times they fail to come true. I believe that romance and love will prevail and one day, he'll come chasing after me to stop me from leaving. And on that day, I'll stay.

The end--to me--is never finite. There's always room for another try. It's just that he never comes back for it. And that sucks hard.

How could you ever feel like a princess when you know there's no Prince Charming coming to your rescue?
...

Last night, I couldn't sleep. I lay in bed with the lights off and the music on. Some of the time my eyes were open--some of the time they were shut. Either way, I saw nothing. I would only come out of my emotionally numb stupor when my body would suddenly begin to convulse with sobs, or when my ears would catch the sound of a car turning slowly down my street. I fell asleep after I don't know how many hours, after my body was completely drained of tears. I lulled myself to sleep, trying to convince my heart "he's not coming...he's not coming..."
...

Why didn't he sit closer? Why didn't he come down the stairs?

Fuck.

Brain wishes

She: I wish I were stronger I wish he were stronger I wish it were a year ago I wish he would hold me I wish he would say something I wish he would look at me I wish he would apologize I wish I didn't need more I wish we could igmroe it all I wish we weren't here I wish he would beg me to stay I wish I could just stay I wish I could be here for him I wish he would let me in I wish he could do this on his own I wish it wasn't today I wish there was more time I wish he were more romantic I wish I wasn't so romantic I wish we made love more often I wish he would convince me to stay I wish he would chase me down here and wrap his arms around me I wish he would chase me into the street I wish he would tell me I was wrong I wish he could change I wish I could change I wish we could change I wish he would come out I wish I could kiss him one more time I wish he would follow me I wish he would surprise me I wish he wouldn't just let me go...

He: I wish I had kissed her goodbye.
...

    "The romanticism of youth demands that we always take very radical stances."
    --Paulo Coelho, "The Witch of Portobello"

Proof

He still smells good to me. He never stopped smelling good to me. That's how I know I still love him.

Weighted words

He wouldn't bend, so she had to break.
...

I just finished a really heavy book. It wasn't so much the 700+ pages that gave it its weight, but more so all the trauma it held in the pages that Mr. Lamb made your own to hold onto. It also could have been so heavy because I was trying to escape a labyrinth of my own, trying to find my centre amidst all the twists and turns and dead ends. Have I mentioned I've been emotionally strung lately? Nearly cried into the pages while on the subway this morning.
...

The quote on my Starbucks cup today was the same one from almost a year ago that nearly cost me my job because I ponderously mused about the benefits of never settling for less than the best. That and because people can't be adult about matters of the heart.

Familiar Territory

Once again, I find myself tethered to my phone, listening for any alert. I sit here on the computer, constantly hitting refresh. I log in and log out, searching for status. I renew reports, hoping for any statistic to change. My heart bursts as it did once before, and yet despite all of the similarities, this time around, it's so very different.

I suppose, in the spirit of things, the following is only appropriate:

There was a time when men were kind
When their voices were soft
And their words inviting
There was a time when love was blind
And the world was a song
And the song was exciting
There was a time
Then it all went wrong

I dreamed a dream in time gone by
When hope was high
And life worth living
I dreamed that love would never die
I dreamed that God would be forgiving
Then I was young and unafraid
And dreams were made and used and wasted
There was no ransom to be paid
No song unsung, no wine untasted

But the tigers come at night
With their voices soft as thunder
As they tear your hope apart
And they turn your dream to shame

He slept a summer by my side
He filled my days with endless wonder
He took my childhood in his stride
But he was gone when autumn came

And still I dream he'll come to me
That we will live the years together
But there are dreams that cannot be
And there are storms we cannot weather

I had a dream my life would be
So different from this hell I'm living
So different now from what it seemed
Now life has killed the dream I dreamed.
...

No wonder I cried all three times I watched her sing that song.

A moment on peace

To live in hearts we leave behind is not to die.
    --Thomas Campbell

"I don't know if I could have ever really called her a close friend, but she was definitely never my enemy...wow, this is turning out to be a lot harder for me than I thought..."
...

Life is too short to take anything for granted. We'll all miss her; I'm comforted knowing that we all remember her to have always been so spirited in life.

Don(n)e

Long trips to and from work on the TTC. Self-imposed isolation via iPod. Burying myself in books. I'm lonely, but there's no one else I'd rather be with.

Blemished

Clarification from a conversation held not too long ago:

Zits are caused by stress. Whiteheads just happen.

I think I'm up to two zits today. Ugh.

Missing

A while ago I pulled a bonehead move and messed up my iTunes library. While I managed to get all of my songs reloaded without too much ado, it was only last night that I realized that I'd lost all of my playlists. I'm hardly in the mood to go about recreating them all right now, but I really could have used my "miss you" playlist last night. Tonight too.

"Gardenia" - Mandy Moore

Well, I put so much thought into getting ready
Now I know that was the best part
It's so easy to get caught up in what I'm regretting
Forget what I got from a wounded heart

I'm the one who likes Gardenia
I'm the one who likes to make love on the floor
I don't want to hang up the phone yet
It's been good getting to know me more

I've been seeing all my old friends in the city
Walking alone in Central Park
Doing all the things that I've neglected
Traded 'em all in to be in your arms

Well, I hear my own voice sounds so silly
Keep on telling my story all around
Everything I lost seems so different
Well, this is how everybody gets found

Song of the Moment: "Maybe She'll Wait" - Bebo Norman

They say you cannot walk before you crawl
I wonder why, I wonder why
Because everybody dreams before they fall
A wonder world and then we lose it all

But I will dream of tomorrow
Where the past will not be in my way
Passion lives another day
And I will dream of tomorrow
Where perhaps she'll wait for me

And every single heart that I have held
In my hands, in my clumsy hands
I fumbled them around until they fell
It's much safer ground just keeping to myself

But I still dream of tomorrow
Where the past will not be in my way
Passion lives another day
And I still dream of tomorrow
Where perhaps she'll wait for me
And perhaps she'll wait for me
...

Or maybe she won't.

Picking up pieces

"After the Rain" - Blue Rodeo
...

the most important thing I've learned is that being right means shit. All it does is place your own pride over the feelings of the other person.
    ~ehbaba

...

I've heard that Canadians have been accused of being too apologetic; apologizing for things they're not necessarily at fault for. Sure it wasn't your intention to bump shoulders when squeezing by someone else in a narrow hallway, but it just seems natural to apologize, doesn't it? It does to me.

So sometimes, heated moment or not, I apologize. Perhaps it's not because I think I've done something wrong, but it's genuinely because causing someone any sort of discomfort is not what I would have wanted to do in any case. Sometimes it's that tiny "I'm sorry" that diffuses something what was on the verge of exploding. It doesn't cost very much, but it's utterance can be priceless in the right moments.

But then again, I'm Canadian--what do I know?
...

I can do anything I put my mind to. However, I don't claim to be perfect. The only time I've been kept from realizing my dreams, is when something prevents me from trying my best. When I'm allowed in and allowed to spread my wings, I can soar.

Then there are the times when I choose to stop trying. That happens when I've tried enough, and I need someone else to take a turn. I haven't given up, I'm just waiting for a hand.
...

My next post will be my 888th post. I hope it's a good one.
...

I don't wanna be the girl that has to fill the silence
The quiet scares me 'cause it screams the truth
    --Pink
...

I get a little antsy when I sit in the quiet for too long. I find the need to seek out some sort of white noise to take the edge off the silence. Be it music, a TV talking in the background, or the murmur of other people going about their daily lives, it's that sort of filler that both distracts me and helps me focus at the same time.

The distraction is from my constant stream of thoughts and strings of imagined stories and conspiracies and plotlines. The focus comes from having to now tune out all of the extra sound to hone in on whatever the task at hand was in the first place. There are so many songs on my iPod that I've probably heard but never listened to because of this.

The above would also give explanation to why some nights I fall asleep to music, and let it play all through the night.
...

I watched Twilight finally tonight. Oh to be back in high school to not be with boys this time around, but instead wait and save it for the sake of simplicity. As if.
...

Okay. That's enough. I was thinking about writing italicized fictions about life and love and loathing, but was too self-conscious to do so, worrying that people might see too much of themselves in them and fret over where the lines of fiction end, and fact begins. There's that saying where "beauty is in the eye of the beholder;" I wish there were some saying to that effect about seeing yourself as the character in a story.

Quote of the Moment

    "Don't part with your illusions. When they are gone you may still exist, but you have ceased to live."
    --Mark Twain (1835 - 1910)

What it's worth

Taking a moment to archive my oldest 3 months worth of email, I find I have a second to make the realization that my writing makes for great at-work reading. :)

While I have my few faithful followers who search me out in moments of curious idleness at home (probably in an attempt to find reading suitable to lull them to sleep), most of my readers (according to reports, anyway) look me up while at work. My guess is that either they're infinitely nosy and wanting to find private moments (of course you find these at work, rather than at home...?) to spy on me, or that my writing's been rated as a great time-waster. A great filler to while the hours away at work.

But you know what? I'm okay with that. I'm not picky about where my audience is or why they find themselves here. The fact that I even HAVE an audience is amazing. The fact that I have repeat readers is gobsmacking (I re-learned that word from FC-M last week). Glad you're here!

70 hits short of 20,000 is nothing to scoff at, right?

However, do you really have to Google me every time? Don't you have even a little space for my url in your memory (it's easy!) or in your bookmarks? ;)

Not just snips and snails

We came, we played, we conquered. DAMN, it felt good.

Go Food SUGAR!!!

It was not a walk in the park--we earned that championship. It also helped that we had our own (overly-) exuberant cheering squad.

"There are almost enough boys to make their own team!"

It was true. Strong as we ladies are, sometimes it makes us that much stronger to see we've got that back-up there, supporting us every step of the way--9am game or not. :)
...

Speaking of boys, tonight was dinner with the boys, and while food and coversation was varied, the end result was me being ready and rearing for the next big travel adventure, this hemisphere or not. A return to Japan, a stint in South Korea, an Indo-Thai-Malaysia-Vietnam-Cambo whirlwind, a visit to HK/China, a trip to Kiwi-land and Australia, and then throughout Europe contiki-styles. The bug has bitten. Hard.

Crazy in love

    "If you live to be a hundred, I want to live to be a hundred minus one day, so I never have to live without you."
    - Winnie the Pooh