Largely Rhetorical Questions
Sunday, January 30, 2005


For the past five months, at this time I would be arriving at work, getting ready to sell books, price, shelve, clean, and generally enjoy myself. This weekend and last, with nothing to do during the days have been hard on me. Especially being off for exam week, I haven't even had schoolwork to distract me. But today, today I have been productive. I went to a job interview first thing this morning, and was home by 10:30. Since then I've cleaned my room, done laundry, followed up on another interview, eaten lunch, cleaned out my bag and binders and gotten them ready to start semester two with, and generally kept myself busy. My laundry is all folded and waiting to be put away, but after that I'm not sure what I'll do. Maybe vacumn, or clean the bathrooms, or the kitchen something. I hate feeling unproductive, and lazy. I like being busy, and having eighteen things to do at the same time. This whole unemployment thing kind of sucks. Hopefully I will hear back from the bookstore interview today, or tommorow, and the other interview said they'd call back today as well. If neither of those goes well, then it's off to Kingsway on Monday to visit Gymboree. You know, I don't even know where Kingsway is. Maybe I should look into that today, as well. I need a project, or six. And I can't even waste time on the Purgatory boards because NO ONE has posted ANYTHING since Friday. Geez, its not like it was a boring game. Sheesh. Well, back to laundry now, I guess. Hmmm, maybe I'll wash my window; it's kind of dusty. God, I hate boredom.

***

Update: I've created a photo album of baby photos here to get some help choosing a photo to use for my grad year book. They want us to submit a baby photo to go next to our grad photo. Check it out, the come back and drop a vote in the comments, or send me an email. Thanks all.


posted by Pixie at 1:03 PM




Tuesday, January 25, 2005


There's nothing funnier in the world, than watching two stoned hooligans trying to walk down an icy sidewalk. Except, maybe, watching ladies in high heels attempting the same thing.

***

Job offers since I left the bookstore: 0
Job offers today: 3

My world is bizzare. I now have an interview at Greenwood's on Fri, and two possibilities that both involve children (Gymboree and Special Events by Tinkles). I have no idea how any of these will pan out, but hey, it's a start. My headache and I are going to bed now.

posted by Pixie at 5:39 PM




Monday, January 24, 2005


Home is where your heart is.
Home is where you hang your hat.
Home is where you lay your dead.
Home is the place where, when you have to go there, they have to take you in.
Home is any four walls that enclose the right person.
Home is where there's one to love us.
Home is the place where we are treated the best, but grumble the most.
Home is not where you live, but where they understand you.
Home is where the heart can laugh without shyness.
Home is where the heart's tears can dry at their own pace.

No matter how you define it, I'm not home. I don't know how to make this home. As I was walking back from the bus, I passed a gorgeous big white house. It had an archway over its front walk, and on either side of the archway were lights. And as I walked by, the lights light up, as if to say 'Come in. You are welcome.' I almost started crying right there. I want to go home, but I don't know where that is.

Home is where the books are.

I guess that'll have to do, for now...



posted by Pixie at 10:26 PM






Tickets for The Vagina Monolouges went on sale Friday. They are availible at the info booths on the U campus. Tickets are $15/each. Please keep in mind that this is fundraiser to help end violence against women, and that the Food Bank will be running a collection of female products at the show. Also please keep in mind that this show is for mature audiences only, contains coarse language and descriptions of scenes of nudity and violence. If you are easily offended by such matters, this show is not for you. If you are under 16, this show is probably also not for you. Hope to see many of you there...


The Vagina Monologues play February 14th, 8:00pm at the Myer Horwitz Theater.

posted by Pixie at 2:31 PM




Thursday, January 20, 2005


I have been being harassed by various parties about the fact that I have not been updating my blog recently. So here you go: An Update.

I hereby am swearing off Thursday nights at BPs. I am sick and tired of coming home, week after week, feeling like my self-esteem has been bashed. I have enough problems in that area already - I don't need any further provocation. I am tired of feeling that the only reasons people even care if I'm there or not, are because they want to a) fondle me, or b) mock me. Just because I am the youngest, doesn't mean that I ought to be treated like the resident sex toy. I am fed up with comments about my size, me being a ho, a tramp, or a whore. I'm tired of jokes about prostituting myself, or comments that all I've got going for me is cuteness. Fuck you. And I am sick of your stupid "jokes." I don't care if I'm at a radically different place in my life than you - it's still my life. So I'm a high school student... Get Over It. I had to; You can too. And while you're at it, stop telling me all about the flaws in my lifestyle, and perceptions of reality. If I say that I am bi, who are you to tell me that I'm not? Who are you to tell me that I'm just "indescive"? Fuck you too. Oh, and while we're talking about self-esteem boosting: Stop telling me that all I do is whine, bitch and complain. You're damn right that I'm bitching, and justifiably. The world as I know it has/is falling apart, and I am scared, lost, confused, and in panic. Don't you dare tell me that my life really isn't 'that bad.' You have no fucking clue what is is like to be me. Oh, and one more thing: Stop acting like the fact that I'm 18 makes me stupid, or something. Stop acting like that fact that I'm still in high school means I am uninteresting, unimportant, and uninformed. I'm sick of the attitude that because I'm young my stories, thoughts, ideas and opininos are not worth listening to. I'm sick of you all making me feel like shit, week after week. You know, I do a good enough job of that on my own - I do not need your goddamn help.

Any comments on this post will be deleted. If you really must enlighten me with your opinion on the matter, you can email me. But don't expect an answer.

posted by Pixie at 11:51 PM




Friday, January 14, 2005


I meant to post a few days ago. I really did. But when I sat down to write, all I could come up with was the same old 'woe is me' shit. And I figured nobody needed to hear that again. I mean, my life and future are systematically being destroyed but whatever. Everyone is tired of my whining. Thus, I have thought long and hard to come up with:

Things That Are Currently Making My Life Bearable - A list by Pixie
1. Pre-going out shooter with chocolate and a cherry on top. Mmmm.
2. Long, hot showers.
3. The inclusion of Gilbert and Sullivan on my English mid-term. Yea, I kicked some serious midterm ass.
4. An offer for closet renovations. Whee!! Now, if I could only afford the materials... but let us focus on positive things.
5. An abundance of fantastic books waiting to be read.
6. KoToR. I might actually finish this game. *gasp*
7. I have dropped off a ton of resumes. Now if I could just hear back from someone.... positive, positive!
8. Long johns, leg warmers, and doubled socks. I hate winter.
and a 1/2. Clove balls.

Usually I would now post a Bad Things list, but I don't think I could contain in to 8 and a 1/2 items, plus I need no reminder of the shitty-ness of my life. So post your list of happy things. Come on, prove to me that the whole world hasn't gone to hell...

posted by Pixie at 8:28 PM




Monday, January 10, 2005


Upset stomach.
Not particularily motivated to cook.
Busy contemplating my unemployment.
And pending financial doom.
Can't find my resume.
Tired.
Cranky.
Depressed.

It's just another day in the life...

posted by Pixie at 6:07 PM




Thursday, January 06, 2005


I have a dilemma. And I really have no idea what to do about it. My dilemma is stuff. Stuff in my room, stuff I don't have space for.

See the problem is most of this stuff is framed photos, or books, or trinkets - all things that mean something to me. Sentimental things. Old things. Photos of friends that I miss, or who are gone, or who are far away. Hats and scarves that I love, but have nowhere to keep. I don't know what to do. I don't want to get rid of the things I love, and the things that mean so much to me but... I dunno. Does anyone have any brilliant ideas on the matter?

I really don't like my room lately, and I don't know what I can do change that. I couldn't even tell what it is that bothers me about it. All I know is that I just don't feel happy in it. It's all my stuff but it's not... right. The bookshelf is too wide, the bed is too small, there's just no space to live in here. My closet is a nightmare - not like Laura's but driving me crazy. *sigh* I have no idea what's wrong. I just know that something is.

posted by Pixie at 5:26 PM




Monday, January 03, 2005


About a week ago, Rob and I had a fight. What we fought about isn't important here; what is important is what happened after.

Afterwards I had a fairly standard anxiety attack. As in most of my anxiety attacks, I began a very repetitive type of motion, aimed at distracting my mind. Sometimes this involves organizing things, or rubbing my feet together, or running my fingers back and forth on a line, or tapping, or other such things. Unfortunately, this time I started running my nails back and forth across my shoulder, and gave myself two rather impressive looking scratches. They weren't anything serious, and once I'd calmed down I put polysporin on them, bandaged them and went about my life. The fight was over; the attack was over.

Tonight, as I went to get in the shower, I took the Band-Aid off my shoulder. I noticed that it was mostly healed, with just a small amount of scabbing still left around the edges. The middles were pink with fresh, new skin. And I thought that it was an interesting metaphor.

When a fight ends, we often remember it for a while. It may plague our thoughts, or dreams, or conversations. There's a sting from words exchanged, and maybe regret for what we did. It hurts, but the pain lessens as time passes. Our wounds slowly heal, and we forget how much it may have hurt. The larger the conflict, the longer it takes, and vice versa, but eventually... eventually everything heals. The body will always make itself right again. Give us a fresh new layer, to try again with.

In a couple of weeks, I'm sure I'll barely be able to see where the scratches were, as I'll barely remember why we were fighting in the first place. Maybe it will scar, as others have before, and maybe this fight will stick somewhere in the back of my brain, but that doesn't matter. What matters is that is heals, and we move on.

We do not choose to heal. All we can choose is how long we let it take, and how painful we let it be. Afterwards, where or what we move on to - that is our own choice. I've been through a lot more shit in my life than many of the people I know. I've been through a lot less shit in my life than many of the people I know. I watched people choose to heal, and choose to fight the process. But eventually, everything has scabbed over, and healed itself.

I think I've taken long enough now. Now... now I move on.


posted by Pixie at 10:34 PM