Sticky Beak
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The Skinny
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...life in small Northern towns, working for assholes, boys who refuse to become men, synthetic personalities, anorexic models and their link to emotional scarring, bad marijuana trips, crazies on BC Transit, beer, piece of shit cars, living out of a suitcase paycheck to paycheck, unrequited love, Seinfeld, minimum-wage jobs, broken New Year�s resolutions, and over-limit Visa accounts.
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Greetings, earthlings. Were you beginning to wonder if I'd fallen off the earth? Is there even anybody out there anymore??? Hellooooooo.... (hello, hello, hello)... Well, despite my long 'hiatus' from writing, I have very little to report. Didley Squat, actually. I'm back here in Van, holed up in Luba's spare room for a couple months or until she kicks me out... whichever comes first... driving a new-to-me piece of shit car (I broke the pattern though, and bought a black one instead of my traditional blue), working a new job that seems to be going ok so far (too soon to tell, but I haven't burned the store down yet, so that's a good sign...), and am back on the depressing Lean Cuisine meal-for-one routine. Holding on to what little sanity I have, counting the days til Damian lands (85... no wait, 84 left). Slept all weekend and think I may have finally caught up now and fully recovered from my month with Ethan. Love the kid to bits, but Jesus H... what a handful! So here I am, after six months away and listening to my friends bemoan the fact that I'm gone and how much they miss me, etc, etc... and already feeling lonely as hell. It's only been a week... I think it's gonna be a long haul. I guess I failed to take into consideration that 90% of my friends live in Langley/Surrey, so the likelihood of seeing them with any sort of frequency is slim to none. Bollocks. I have to say, I miss living in Langley. I know that Luba will turn inside-out if she reads that, but it's the truth. I'm a small town redneck girl, after all, and prefer the sound of birds and wind in the trees to car horns and sirens any day. Remember the good ol' days when I was lying on the sand in Redondo Beach, doing the square root of sweet-bugger-all and loving the simplicity of life? Where did those days go? I think retirement suited me pretty well. Good thing I stocked-up on my vacation, since I'm now back to a whopping 2 weeks/year for the next 3 years. Honestly, I don't understand how our society expects people to survive on TEN fecking days away from the workplace. What is that??? In Ireland, even the lowest grunt on the totem pole starts with 4 weeks holiday, plus about 9 stat holidays and a week off at Christmas. Oh, plus your birthday. Now that's the way we should be living. And this is why I need to be self-employed at some stage in my life. So that I can feel like I have at least some degree of control over my life, my hours, and the quality of my time here on this rock. Ok, I need to stop now. I'm starting to depress myself. I need to get to a doc and get the ol' brain pills re-stocked. Maybe that's my problem right now. Maybe once I get that sorted, life will get back on track and be all about rainbows, daffodils and butterflies. Insanity fucking sucks. And it's expensive. Can't really afford to be on these bloody tablets at the moment, but lord knows I can't afford not to be on them either. My family was so concerned that I was going to revert to my old psycho-self due to brain pill shortages, that they started offering their supplies to me. Now that's just sad, isn't it? I can't be a normal, tolerable person unless I'm drugged. That's always nice to know about yourself. Fuck, where's that razor blade? No, only kidding, kids. Life is still good... this is just the sertraline levels speaking. I have a fabulous man who loves me to bits working his ass off on the other side of the globe just so that he can get over here and see me a month or two sooner... how could I possibly be blue??? I've got everything that I've ever dreamed of... more, actually. But I've always been better at cynicism and pessimism than positive thinking. Thus, the Cynical Beast that has once again reared his ugly head. Time to shoo that beast away... Get behind me, Satan!!!... and so, this will be goodbye for now, children. Until we meet again, remember to wash your hands after using the washroom, look both ways before crossing the street, and play nicely in the sandbox. |