secret: i'm afraid!

i think if you examine it carefully, it's not so crazy to be scared of snowboarding- it can hurt you. it's not so crazy to be afriad of getting hurt. self-preservation. survival of the fittest- read up on your darwin if you're not sure where i'm going with this, because this is my defense (read:excuse).

i've loved snowboards a few seasons, and all the fun stuff you can do on them. except right now i can't wrap my head around the fear of getting hurt. i can't seem to psych myself into trees, or even powder. am i doomed to wander the groomers for the rest of my days?

help me, jeebus... i'm skeeeeered.

treasure: phonecalls with the general public

just a quick amused musing here:

as the one who sits in the office at work i pretty much always get the phone first (mostly after the first ring, if i'm mixing things up i'll let it ring one and a half times) which means i can now sort calls to a thrift store into several categories:

1. My boss- actually work related
2. Other employees - call contains something work-related but often also has high percentage of meaningless chat
3. "What time do you close?" - 6pm every single day of the week, mofo
4. "I bought some skis yesterday and they're not the right height for me and I know your cashier told me no refunds and I know it also says no refunds on my receipt that I have right in front of me, but like, can I have a refund?" - nup.
5. "Do you have any size 7 ice skates?" - just hold the line for me one moment while I go and look for you, already knowing the answer is no because it's been winter for a while now and everyone else in town already thought of that
6. "I have a washer/dryer, can you guys come pick it up right meow?" - here is a number you can call, and good luck with your irrational demands
7. " .... ..... is this the re-use-it centre?" - surprisingly constant response to my spiel when i answer the phone: "Good morning, Re-Use-It Centre, Helen speaking". Yes it is the re-use-it centre. i apologize for my mumbly australian accent. except that i. don't. mumble.

my favorite is to leave a little pause when someone phones with a particularly stupid question. this causes them to say ".... um, hello?", while you get to sit back enjoying the awkwardness, then responding to them in a very civil and friendly manner (i can't ever bring myself to actually be rude to people on the phone).

i really do not like phonecalls. it's a pity I can't screen the ones at work.

secret: missing

i have a list of those i miss
i could almost alphabetize it

christmas is
a bad reason for thinking of the ones you love. i love
you all, your missing laughs and eyes and hands
your explosions of conversation in my ear, your
bad jokes and off-key songs

i have a list,
i have a list.




i don't believe in jebus. i don't believe in new year's, really, not in the way that we mean it in this here and now, the planning and the buying of tickets and the expectations of it.
i plan to be at my closest pub
i will buy beer
i expect to have a reasonably good time.


i do like the idea of an excuse for celebration, for the 3 day christmas extravaganza (although i feel a little exhausted, or over-tired, just now), but i also love about whistler the fact that we find cause to celebrate a good powder day. or to celebrate all of us having the same day off work.

i celebrate you all, mi amigos, but what i dislike (and alternatively, embrace with macabre enjoyment) is the missing. the ones i love. the best ones i know.

i've realized a big part of it is ego. because the ones i know and love, the ones i miss, they miss me too. and that makes me somebody, even if i am in canada.

i miss their comfortability. i miss their jokes. i miss them. and if they miss me too sometimes, then they know who they are.






I don't believe in magic
I don't believe in I-Ching
I don't believe in Bible
I don't believe in tarot
I don't believe in Hitler
I don't believe in Jesus
I don't believe in Kennedy
I don't believe in Buddha
I don't believe in mantra
I don't believe in Gita
I don't believe in yoga
I don't believe in kings
I don't believe in Elvis
I don't believe in Zimmerman
I don't believe in Beatles
I just believe in me.

god, john lennon



except that i believe in Beatles.





happy birthday jebus, jebus it's your birthday.


amen, and to all a good night.

treasure: the wisdom to know the difference

why are dishwashers always noisy?






ha. and there you thought i was going to post something deep and profound, you silly monkies.

monkeys? monkies?

spelling is hard.

the saddest thing

secret: all i wanna do is get christmas drunk

rum and eggnog, whistler brewery christmas seasonal ale, fireball, red wine.

christmas drunk is nice for a variety of reasons; the list above and the list below:

1. everyone else is drunk too.
   
2. there is eating to go with the drinking, so nothing gets too out of control, and you feel generally warm and fuzzy and buzzy instead of crazytown.
3. it's tasty! the high sugar content in christmas beverages means it's like eating loads of candy that makes you extra happy.
4. even in whistler, where most of us have to work at some point, everyone is generally pretty chilled because of the constant state of inebriation.
   
5. continuous drinking means no real hangover.
6. other stuff i can't remember right now.

i intend to enjoy my christmas buzz immensely. i like to buzz, it's a fun time.

the only way to know for sure

treasure: flight of the conchords

aussies are not as funny as kiwis. <--- click here for funny stuff

i'm sorry, but this song can always put me in a good mood. i think it's possibly one of the best songs ever.

Twice I turn my back on you
I fell flat on my face but didn't lose
Tell me where would I go
Tell me what led you on I’d love to know

Was it the blue night
Gone fragile
Was it both men
In wonder steady gone under
Was it the light ways
So frightening
Was it two wills
One mirror holding us dearer now


Little Dragon: Twice

secret:

i got nothing that any of you out there in internet land would care for.

treasure: something pretty

listen to this (click here)

secret: i rode on Thursday and I liked it (to the tune of Katy Perry's "I kissed a girl")

nawww, i just love the mountains. they's all purdy and whatnot.

i've missed the first month of riding for 2011/2012 season. own fault. but i've suffered- i've missed the feeling of a board beneath my feet, the wind rushing by, the joy of a simple turn...

i haven't missed chairlifts, but that's neither here nor there.

i snuck up the mountain on thursday morning for a few cheeky runs, to get amongst the 8cm of new pow (some scoff at 8cm, but after weeks of nothing, it starts to look not so bad). hard not to get excited, logging day 3 of the season (count 'em: 1 run opening day, 3 runs on icy groomers monday) with some favorites: Cam, Karin, Phill, Mitch and Sandra.

We hit up Dave Murray, fresh pow on top of groomed run; my legs ached already (yeah, i have a bit of work to do), then Jolly Green Giant with a brief diversion through some tiny trees. This run I remember from that other time early season 2010/2011 when Phill and I got a little... ahem... caught up. It was nice, fairly soft on top, fresh tracks to be had, little bumps here and there for those so inclined towards getting a little air...

Bless 'em all, they waited for me at the chairlifts, and that's why the love I have for these folk is huge. I'm not a speedy rider at the best of times, but things are proceeding in a fairly cautious fashion (swallowing pride for the sake of posterity) and I'm lagging behind. I'm ok with it.

A catchup with Sandra was next on the list, and we snuck down Orange Peel this time (slowed down by a gaggle of small skiing children complete with ski school instructor giving me the evil eye, because as a snowboarder, I am obviously intent on running down those smaller and less able to defend themselves).

Quality chatting on Red chair revealed that Sandra hadn't had the pleasure of being up on Whistler Peak yet. And godDAMN it was beautiful up there; my first visit of the season and the clouds cleared to give us a view right to Black Tusk, as well as up and down the valley, a nice blanket of cloud cover making for some rather satisfactory if obligatory photos of the inukshuk.

Upper Peak to Creek was splendid, even though by this time of day it was a little lumpy in spots. I managed to find a few bits and pieces of soft fresh snow on the sides of the runs to keep me happy, but my guilty conscience was starting to suggest to me I shouldn't push my luck with the stupid ankle (as it shall henceforth be known), so I called it at 4 runs and downloaded to Dustys. A burger was had. It was delicious.

It's nice to be back, even if in small quantities. I want to be better. I want to be healed, but I'm not yet. So I shall take those small moments of joy and amplify them for my own selfish reasons.

And that's how my day of riding was on Thursday. Thanks for asking.

treasure: to try.

in the face of the stupid planet and time passing and the gaps and all the missing buttons
in the face of always being left with hands empty, of being the one to teach and encourage
(til you're/i'm blue in the face)
despite the audience willing your failure
despite all the patronizing but well meant advice
in the face of those who would not choose me for you or you for me
in the face of being caught breathless before you even start to climb the stairs
(this time til you're/i'm red in the face)

despite forgetting keys and losing maps and
despite the metaphorical chip missing from your glasses

in the face of a supermassive black hole
in the face of boredom

despite




well, listen, i'm going to try anyway. wanna try too?

she said "keep him warm, he needs you to keep him warm".

and i knew what she meant, and i knew that i would try my best.

treasure: the stars, the moon

most of the nights in whistler have been crystal clear of late. despite the fact this means it's not snowing, i am slightly enchanted. it's cold; you have to keep moving (one is not so enchanted, let's say, waiting at the bus stop for a bus that's late at this time of night in these temperatures).

as i walk home it is nice to be alone with my thoughts and the sweet sounds of florence and the machine (click here) breathing into my ears. the cold makes my humanness seem more real to me, warmer and more tangible by stark contrast.

sometimes "i'm just a human" is my mantra. i need to take care it is not an excuse. i had a wonderful unplanned meal with kate, phill, sister kate, grace, mitch and paul tonight (woohoo 50% off sushi!) and had a really good time. i wondered to myself why i was walking away from them to come home early, but my instincts (after being in the store all day with 50% off everything) stood me in good stead. i had a great time because they are all such easy people to know, anything and everything is fodder for jokes. there is a lot of laugher and i love them all for it.

my crime here is being a human, i guess. i abandoned them for warm and bed, but as i walked home and breathed in a clear canadian winter night (trying super hard not to slip on ice) i didn't want to rush up the hill. in the distance there was yellow light peeking out the window of our little house. the promise of warmth was enough.

it's the breath and the promise that crystallizes things and makes me reality check my complaints and insecurities.

i am happy and i should shut up.

secret: a prayer

please please please please please ankle

let me go shredding tomorrow

i promise to be good.

treasure: to be humbled

there is work being done by all sorts of exceptional folks out there with passion who believe in things. i don't feel that i'm doing very much, when all is boiled down to its bared bones.

i veer between selfishness and the over-give, which is unsustainable. at 26 you would think i would have figured this out.

whistler is a selfish phase, there is not way to avoid that fact- i guess i'll just settle for a to-do list which involves saving the planet.

and i'll uh, get to it later. after winter season.

secret: i think i might get slightly drunk and write christmas cards to everyone i know

lost treasure: erin

i made a friend in uni called erin. i was studying postmodernism and was completely lost and struggling, wading through all the bullshit created by other more self-important lit students. i had a friday morning tute which is basically unheard of when you study arts- everyone has friday off, making thursday the night to go out drinking cheap dirty beer. so friday tutes make for some rather uninspired and hungover contributions, except by that peppy know-it-all who i now suspect of being on crack, or at least a shit-tonne of coffee. damn her. anyways.

we had a discussion about one of the novels we were studying, and for once i was inspired instead of bored. i wanted to continue the discussion post-tutorial, and bravely put the suggestion out there- i didn't have any friends in my tutorial- but nobody had the time, or the inclination. it was at this point erin piped up to accept my offer. we went to have coffee, both slightly nervous at the prospect of a new friend (university of melbourne, i felt at that stage, was mainly groups of private school students who all knew each other and had no need to make friends or even be polite to strangers) but filled with enough lit student bravado to muster up a half decent conversation.

we didn't talk about the book. at all. i managed to mention early on something of my religious ex with schizophrenia, to discover that erin, in fact, also had a religious ex with schizophrenia.

i'm sure there are plenty of them out there, but it felt like a pretty magical meeting at the time. there are not many instances where you can confess horrible things and have someone meet and match you. we had a great chat that day, a little shy of 2 hours and 2 coffees later swapping numbers.

we met up fairly frequently, and wrote letters over the holidays when i was in nsw with my family. she was beautiful, she looks like katherine heigl, freakishly so.

and then i left uni, and she continued on, and we lost touch. now i don't know where she is, or if she's in australia anymore, and if she managed to shake the echo of the crazy ex.

i hadn't thought of her for a long time, but tonight she popped into my head and i looked for her on facebook, and googled her, and nothing appeared...

i hope she is happy, doing things she loves and being alive.

secret: a small rant on assholes

what is the deal with assholes anyway

i hate those guys

secret: a midnight thought (at 1am)

i watched a lot of grey's anatomy today and i decided i would like to die in my sleep. calmly, when i'm old, but not so old i've started putting the kettle in the fridge and microwaving my handbag.

i'd like it to be free of drama, and i'd like my affairs to be in order, and i'd like to have some awesome possessions to leave to my appreciative grandkids in my will.

i'd like something nice but relatively obscure to be played at the funeral, so that only my close friends knew to chuckle or smile wryly, or fondly, when they heard it play.

and i'd like to go before anyone else died, so i never had to live alone.

i'd also like my body to be found right away when i didn't wake up in the morning. i do not like the idea of being found in a decomposed state, because that is scary.

also, if something bad happens and i'm resurrected as a zombie, i want my loved ones to know i fully support them doing what it takes to disable me and stop me from eating brains.

secret: I've lost my feet (I've lost my head)

i confessed to a friend recently that without snowboarding, i realize, i have become rather 2 dimensional. i'm working on healing an injury i did last season. ladies and gentleman, learn from my mistake, and treat your sprained ankle right away please.

i haven't had any time up the hill yet, besides that one run on opening day. besides not being able to ride, there are all sorts of other things i'm missing out on. i'm trying desperately not to be 'the injured one who can't go riding and doesn't want anyone else to enjoy themselves or tell her anything about their day' (yeah, nobody wants to be that guy). i don't know if i've succeeded, but in trying so damn hard not to let it bother me i wonder exactly i have put off dealing with.

i met up with a fairly new friend last week. she has had many ankle related injuries in her time. she's also a bit of a hippy, which reminds me of my mum, who i dearly love and miss a lot right now (mums always fix hurty stuff with their mum magicks). spiritually, and i say this with hesitation as i know you're probably sniggering at me even bringing it up, your ankles are what ground you, what put you in touch with solid ground. so she says, she says that a bad ankle disrupts everything.

i will listen to anyone's opinion on nearly anything. i will consider it. i know i don't know everything, a fact i become increasingly aware of as time passes.

i've been so damned sad. i thought it was just because i really really like snowboarding. it was suggested to me that the shitty things i normally let run off me like water do, in fact, run out through my feet. and the darn ankle's just fucking my shit up.

it might be true, it might not, maybe he did, maybe he didn't (not... alive). <-- click here

all i know is: foot bad. me angry. no go riding. sad and angry inside. pretend happy outside.

except when i eat really tasty food. then i'm happy right down to the crappy ankle. and beyond.


also i like to youtube bits of tv shows i like.
this week it's scrubs. oooh and family guy. <-- click here too

i have more to say but youTube just took my brain hostage.

post ended.