secret: rainy mondays plagued with headaches make me feel like this:

secret: mondays.

it's not as though it's highly original to hate mondays, but this latest one was particularly hard. possibly because i spent all of the immediately preceding sunday in a semi-comatose state which involved the consumption of cheese on toast and a whole season of Community. there were some naps, but i still have a sleep deficit up to my armpit. i could have done with another day in a very relaxed position on a reclining chair.

secret: love and other parts of the pickle

at this time of the year it is easier to go down than up. the weather is rubbish. all you want to do is drink.

because it snowed today, like SNOWED EVERYWHERE, and i bought my season pass, and there are all these people that i'm meeeting, who are great and interesting and not full of shit (although there really are a lot of those too), i am in love.

during the day, when there is snow and lattes, this love is all uplifting and whatnot.

at nighttime you end up on facebook chat listening to random people with webcams who have posted videos on youtube, terrible covers of songs you like.

being in love is exhilirating but somehow melancholy when reality sets in and you are, for all intents and purposes, alone.

maybe if i focused my love upon one person instead of loving everybody.

but then how would i save the planet?

secret:

i'm just so grumpy

can't decide if i'm sad sack from the raggy dolls or eeyore.

some freakish combination of both.
stupid crappy everything stuff.

treasure: bad decisions

1. not eating dinner
2. wearing shoes without socks
3. ignoring the fact i work tomorrow
4. being all sneaky, whistler style
5. not dressing warm... where the fuck did summer go?!
6. much more

i don't really know what i wanted to happen this evening, but i had no plan, and it all sort of failed me. so i got to the bar at 9.30 and then just wanted to be home. so i'm all cozy at home now, with my wine which i stole from mitch (but he did say i could) and beyonce, among other things, playing on the stereo.
sometimes i don't even recognize myself, oh the terrible decisions i make. this week is going to be another corker i can just tell. i need to sort myself out, and just maybe Be Organized.
i have started work on my story, but at the moment it's just the story of failed love. embellished to make it funnier than it is. because in reality it's not funny, it's more than a little sad. but there is comedy in pathetic stalker behaviour, correct? i think so.
i'm working on my karma at the moment. ANY DAY NOW, something wonderful will happen to me. i'm actually hoping it all will save up and i'll have an amazing powder season with a small amount of random romance. a sprinkling. just a sprinkling will do.
failing that i'd be happy with a fuckload of snow.

p.s.

I FUCKING HATE HOW LAZY PEOPLE ARE IN WHISTLER ABOUT INVITING OTHERS TO STUFF. JUST SEND ME A FUCKING TEXT MESSAGE HOW HARD IS THAT, YOU BASTARDS?

secret: i don't know

i can't stop watching tv.

i want to go to india. and i want to go DH biking. and stop biting my fingernails. i hope tomorrow all my favourites are at work.

i want a new and better job. i want to practise my guitar more. and i want to play an open mic night. i want to discover a new favourite band.

i wish i knew what to be when i grow up.

an observation

maybe being in a relationship is not so great.

all recent emo-ness aside, i can't help but consider the fact that at least i don't have to have arguments with someone, the kind of arguments that two entirely different people have when they decide, for some bizarre reason, to commit to each other rather than anyone else.

even the most perfect couples fight, because it is human nature. i think it's more how you deal with the fighting, how you react to it and how you move past it, that marks what sort of a couple you are.

being in a relationship is constant negotiation. and requires constant compassion. and sometimes it is just about taking a really deep breath before you say something small, poisonous and mean. at least, that's my experience. because i am a snarky individual when i want to be.

it's the being in love, and the heartbreaking fun of it all, that's the bit i miss. the practical, pay-the-bills-on-time, take-the-garbage-out, it's-your-turn-to-do-the-dishes stuff, that bit i do not miss. although a certain level of comfort can be found in this very level of domesticity.

is it fair to blame hollywood for the myth of romance? please can i blame them? fuckers.

i think the only way to keep magic happening is not to live with your lover. ever. this is a theory i am working on, but judging on my luck lately, i will never ever be able to test this theory out again...

there, emo, BAM, right in your eye!