I'm in love with Ryan Gosling

Last night, after a fairly crappy work day, I went to see the movie Half Nelson with Robby J, Karl and Soojeen. I mostly went because K and RJ are my boys, and I love them dearly - how could I resist some quality time with them. Also, the movie stars Ryan Gosling, whom I have loved since his days on the Mickey Mouse Club, and features music by Broken Social Scene. Can this be a bad movie?

I'm honestly not going to give a review of it here - it's something I suggest you all go out and see. I know I shall be watching it again because I feel I didn't catch half of it's subtext. It's really well done, and it's just totally worth watching. Ryan Gosling is very talented. Wow. He always picks very good, rather independent seeming movies, and he does really, really well. This is another great example. Go see it.

On another totally superficial note - Ryan is beautiful in this movie. Really. I was totally digging him. He wears vintage clothes in a somewhat badass kinda way, but they look GOOD. He's got these sunglasses and scruffy beard - mmm... He's definately my "type" in this movie. Wow. And well, ladies, that alone makes the movie worth it.

Neglecto-blog

sometimes I don't know what to write...

Awake is the New Sleep

Not only is that a great album, but this seems to be the theme of my weekend. All actions packed, little sleep. Ugh. But overall, it was fun!

Friday was great - I got a chance to catch up with my bro Ryan who just got back from Europe (finally). That was great - we had a long talk, then we went out for pie at nearly 11 o'clock at night. Saturday was packed with breakfast with Cyril and Enoch about church stuff, and Sat night was "Scott and Mike IV" - the last a of a long line of great parties with some Queen's friends. Highlights included the tubs of (cold) water in their dining area meant to be wading pools. Ha!
Over all a good night - nothing too drunk and stupid for anyone, which probably means we're growing up. ;)

Sunday was all about Freedomize - set up, church, then chillin' with the boys. I even got to spend time with the famous Robby J and the Unsung Hero. Definately brag worthy.

The only criticism? Not enough sleep. I went to bed at 4 am on Friday, 3 am on Saturday and 1:30 am on Sunday. Awake just might be my new state of being.

A Three Second Affair

An introduction. A friend of a friend. A casual moment.

Then a shift, a little something more:

A look, a glance, a held gaze.
Unspoken intention.

The air was thick.

A spark.
A smile.



*This post is dedicated to my soul friend, DC, who has also recently experience this.

An inspiration

The clown has great importance… as part of the search for what is laughable
and ridiculous in man. We should put the emphasis on the rediscovery of our own
individual clown, the one that has grown-up within us and which society does not
allow us to express
- Jacques Lecoq

A little goes a long way

This morning I stopped by Starbucks (again) to get a caramel macchiato on my way to the subway. I didn't have any cash, so I was about to pay with debit. Alas the debit machine was down, and just as I was about to forfeit the coffee for the day, the barrista said "No, it's on us today!" What a treat!

And that is what I call good customer service.

Wouldn't it be funny if...

We all talked like the people in classic movies. You know what I'm talking about, the inflection in the voice, the matter of fact tone...the note of desperation in the voices of all the women. Can you imagine what it would be like if we really talked like that everyday? Hehehe.

Here are some examples of what I mean (and please bear with me if they don't work right away):

Andy Warhol

In my search for me time this weekend, I decided to do something I haven't done in about 2 years - I took myself to the Art Gallery of Ontario. I decided that I should stop talking about how great it would be to see the Andy Warhol exhibit, and so, I said to myself "Self, let's go!" And I went.

The exhibit itself is good. I've had a fascination with Andy Warhol's work for a little while now, and I've briefly starting reading a biography on him. He was an interesting man, and an even more interesting artist. It was a treat to see a representative collection of Andy's works - works presented as they were intended to be presented, instead of being a reproduction on a t-shirt or some other type of pop culture kitsch. Although those pieces still are effectively elements of the Andy Warhol experience, there is something to be said for seeing the real thing.

If you want to know all about Andy Warhol, just look at the surface of my paintings and films and me, and there I am. There's nothing behind it.
- Andy Warhol

I was pleasantly surprised by the video art pieces that were on display. I had no idea that Andy was into this kind of art, and this was my first experience seeing any of it. His video works are in and of themselves striking because they are almost key in beginning to understand Andy's fascination with voyerism. His "screen tests" were shots of faces of people asked to stand in front of camera for 2 -3 minutes without blinking. You can almost see the point for a lot of people where the narcissitic element of being video taped ends and the realm of voyerism, or being watched helplessly begins.

I'm afraid if you look at a thing long enough, it loses all its meaning.
- Andy Warhol


I was particularly interesting in the piece entitled "Blow Job", which is actually a video of a man's face taken as he is receiving fellatio. What's most engaging is the dissociative sense that one gets from being the voyeur as in one is watching what should be a seemingly private moment, drinking it in for the sake of watching. Yet, the subject has allowed himself to be on the screen to view. Furthermore, the subject seems to only be half in the moment, as you can tell that he always conscious of the camera that is sharing the experience with him - as if he is being a voyeur of us the audience as we stare at him. This awareness of the "real but not quite real" was very typical of Andy. There was very little under the surface, because you were staring at the surface subject and the dissociative voyerism didn't allow you to engage further. It is deeply superficial.

I am a deeply superficial person.
- Andy Warhol

I was also very excited to begin to see many of Andy's disaster series. I have to confess, like most, I am best acquainted with Andy's works based on pop icons. I didn't know about the paintings that related to death and destruction (although there are even elements of this in his pop work too). There was something bouffonesque about it - you wanted to look at it, you wanted to think of it as art, yet it didn't feel quite right in the pit of your stomach. How could gore be art? Can we observe death like so and feel good about it? What's even funnier, is that I found myself most engaged by the piece "White 1947", which consists of a picture of a woman which is quite picturesque. Little would make you initially see it's gruesome nature. Although it is very beautiful, it is actually a picture from a newspaper or Life magazine of a woman who committed suicide by jumping off the Empire State building and landed on top of a diplomatic limo. She's so beautiful in a classical way - yet we are staring a little else but the beauty of death.

Death means a lot of money, honey. Death can really make you look like a star.
- Andy Warhol

What for me was the final engaging aspect was going into the gift shop after the show and finding myself surrounded by Andy Warhol art collectibles similar to what you find here. Somehow, it was just ironic. It was here I found myself smiling thinking "Here is the true Andy Warhol experience". There were plastic Marilyn lips, Jackie paperweights, and reproductions of the whole Andy experience. It was a commercialisation of Andy's voyerism. It was his 15 minutes of fame wrapped in plastic. And perhaps, if you don't know why I think this ironic, one should just think about Andy's work a little and see if you come to the same conclusion.

I love Los Angeles. I love Hollywood. They're beautiful. Everybody's plastic, but I love plastic. I want to be plastic.
- Andy Warhol

An Obituary

I hate forwards, like most people, but this was sent to me via email and I thought it was good enough to post.

Today we mourn the passing of a beloved old friend, Common Sense, who has been with us for many years. No one knows for sure how old he was since his birth records were long ago lost in bureaucratic red tape.

He will be remembered as having cultivated such valuable lessons as knowing when to come in out of the rain, why the early bird gets the worm, life isn't always fair, and maybe it was my fault.

Common Sense lived by simple, sound financial policies (don't spend more than you earn) and reliable parenting strategies (adults, not children, are in charge).

His health began to deteriorate rapidly when well intentioned but overbearing regulations were set in place. Reports of a six-year- old boy charged with sexual harassment for kissing a classmate; teens suspended from school for using mouthwash after lunch; and a teacher fired for reprimanding an unruly student, only worsened his condition.

Common Sense lost ground when parents attacked teachers for doing the job they themselves failed to do in disciplining their unruly children. It declined even further when schools were required to get parental consent to administer sun lotion or a Band Aid to a student but could not inform the parents when a student became pregnant and wanted to have an
abortion.

Common Sense lost the will to live as the Ten Commandments became contraband, churches became businesses, and criminals received better treatment than their victims.

Common Sense took a beating when you couldn't defend yourself from a burglar in your own home and the burglar can sue you for assault.

Common Sense finally gave up the will to live after a woman failed to realize that a steaming cup of coffee was hot. She spilled a little in her lap, and was promptly awarded a huge settlement.

Common Sense was preceded in death by his parents, Truth and Trust; his wife, Discretion; his daughter, Responsibility; and his son, Reason.

He is survived by three stepbrothers; I Know My Rights, Someone Else is to Blame, and I'm A Victim. Not many attended his funeral because so few realized he was gone.

If you still remember him, pass this on. If not, join the majority and do nothing.

Good morning, good morning!

I feel good this morning. I'm still a little tired, seeing as I am in desperate need to kick my MSN/internet habits late at night (every now and then I give in), but all the same I feel more positive. Maybe it's because I'm deliberately trying to find some space away from the heavy drama that has clouded my personal life as of late. Maybe it's because prayer is paying off (YAY GOD!). Either way, I feel good today.

I'm just hoping taking some space will be good. I really, really, really love my friends, but things have been taxing recently. I've tried so hard to support and encourage them. I've listened, I've done what I can. But I'm teetering on breaking point in some areas, and quite frankly, I've been very hurt in others. I'm treading along resentment and I don't like it. So, I'm being selfish. I'm getting out for a bit. I doesn't mean I've stopped loving you all, I just need a little self-preservation time. I need my Shepherd to lay me down by still waters and to refresh my soul. That way, I can learn to love them better by loving me a little.

A Freekout Tree-Point-Oh success!

Wow! What a weekend - it was lovely, perfectly lovely. Really. I had such a great time. There were enough cars and tents for everyone - in fact we even had extra space. Despite the fact we didn't get the same sites as last year, we had tons of room, and we had an even better "beach" - instead of icky reeds, we just had rocks that led right into the water. Sooo nice. I can't even begin to describe how great it was to slip into the lake for my first swim on Friday afternoon. It was perfect. The food was great, the campfires were awesome. Sigh. I wanna go back. Guess I just need to step up as "Leader in training".

Sigh.

I've gotta say - it really was a great weekend. We all got there safely on Friday (even if some arrived at 3:30 am!) Saturday was great, starting off after an early morning (cold) swim, it was pancake for breakfast and then off to canoe. After a minor set back, team BFF (Robby J, B and me) came up from behind the pack and guided everyone to a special picnic spot. It was this great flat rock that was perfect for sunning on, and perfect to swim from. After canoeing, the rest of day was spent resting, relaxing, reflecting, and having some God time. Dinner followed by worship songs around the fire, star gazing and chatting with B made the evening really great. I even got to sleep at a decent hour!

Sunday was clean up time, but we managed to fit in a wonderful early morning swim - too bad I didn't feel as well as I wanted to, so I had to cut things short, but all the same. It was a calm lake at sunrise. Wow. After than we ate, cleared up, and hit the showers. Once we were all packed up, the adventure home began. We, of course, stopped in Cloyne for some ice cream, and we took pictures on the "big giant chair", which I hope to keep as a tradition. That was fun. The rest of the ride wasn't much of an adventure, but it was nice. I finished Anne's House of Dreams (Book 5 of the Anne series) and I slept.

We ran a little late for church, but that's ok. The service was good, David preached on Psalm 136, and Leah led worship. Luke took some time to pray for me, which was really nice. I've been needing some prayer lately. Then after that, we dropped on the camping stuff and headed to the Duke of Argyle to celebrate Sue's birthday. It was great! The waiter, Jerry, even offered free shots and got Sue a free dessert. Amazing!

I can't wait until next year!

Just to note

Yes, readers, I'm cheating a little...I've backdated some of my posts because they were half done and jumbled up. Looks better spread out on different days, and it's more real to what I was thinking.

Word.

Freek-ing out.

This has been a long week. I've been working super hard to get all the Freekout business done, and well, it's almost there. It's just tough because there have been a few last minute drop outs, and although I understand, it does tend to irk you. Oh well, it will get done, and the trip will be worth it.

The saving grace is that Kate is home now, and I've got someone to help with a little of my virtual insanity at home. Prayer time is good time. Thanks, love.

Rachel's cottage: The sequel

Another long weekend in the summer has come and gone, but it was lovely. Once again, a few of us adventurous FT folk went up to Rachel's cottage in the Muskokas. So nice. This time was much more relaxing - only five us went: Rob Awesome, David, Karl, Rachel and I - which gave us the much needed space to let our hair down.

We actually left for out destination on Saturday morning seeing as there were people staying at the cottage until noon of that day. It was a good trip up - everyone got a preview of the Freekout Tree Point Oh CD, which was fun (despite the disagreements between Karl and I when it comes to classic rock being good music). We talked and joked, and eventually made it to the cottage. We unpacked the car and headed into Mactier for groceries, which is always fun with 5 people. After that it was swimming, reading and watching movies. Really. Not much else other than that. Well, maybe the only variation was the addition of my good friend Jon for dinner on Sunday, but other than that, it was just lovely monotony.

Some highlights were bonding with the little girls who lived in the two cottages over from us. Sunday afternoon while swimming, we finally talked to our neighbours. The girl Jamie, dubbed "Little J" by me, and the other girl Jess and Emily were so fun. I talked with them, played in the water - they even gave me a bracelet. It made me laugh and think of Rim Rock and all the good times I had being a camp counsellor. Another highlight was a late night swim in the moonlight with Rachel, and finding a new spot to swim to across the lake.

All in all, a great weekend, thanks Rachel!

Tuesdays at the Idiot

There is a little tradition that goes on on Tuesdays with FT folk - those of us on one end of the city will meet for drinks at the Village Idiot Pub. It's lots of fun. This past week was my first time there for a Tuesday. Here's to more evenings like that.

All life's theme songs should come from musicals

Excerpts from

"You Can Always Count On Me"
in City of Angels
book by Larry Gelbart, music by Cy Coleman, lyrics by David Zippel

I'm one of a long line of good girls
Who choose the wrong guy to be sweet on
The girl with a face that says welcome
That men can wipe their feet on
I'm there when he calls me
The trusted girl Friday alright
But what good does it do me
Alone on a Saturday night

If you need a gal
To go without sal'ry and work too hard
You can always count on me
The kind of a pal
Who'd sneak you a file past the prison guard
Loyal to the "nth" degree
The boss is quite the ladies man
And that's my biggest gripe
Till I showed up he's never hired a girl cause she could type
I'm no femme fatal
But faithful and true as a saint Bernard
Barkin' up the wrong damn tree
You can always count on me

I go for the riff raff
Who's treating me so so
When I can play the second fiddle
I'm a virtuoso
I should be playing for a wedding band
But there're no wedding rings attached
Though you can bet there're strings attached

A matter of fact, If you want an ill-fated love affair
You can always count on me

Though my kind of dame
No doubt will die out like the dinosaurs
You can always count on me
I'm solely to blame
My head gives advice that my heart ignores
I'm my only enemy
I choose the kind who cannot introduce the girl he's with
There're lots of smirking motel clerks who call me, "Mrs. Smith"
But I've made a name
With hotel detectives who break down doors
Guess who they expect to see
You can always count on
Bet a large amount on
You can always count on me

Second best

Just a moment ago I stumbled across the following quote while looking for a quote to start my little topic for today. Although it is only partially relevant, I shall leave it here. It almost makes more sense than the quote I was originally looking for.

“Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages. It gets inside you. It eats you out and leaves you crying in the darkness, so simple a phrase like 'maybe we should be just friends' turns into a glass splinter working its way into your heart. It hurts. Not just in the imagination. Not just in the mind. It's a soul-hurt, a real gets-inside-you-and-rips-you-apart pain. I hate love.”

~ Neil Gaiman

Sigh. I hear ya Neil...though I can't hate love, mostly because I just don't want to. We're not designed that way. I can be resentful of love, sure. But that's not the same as hating it.

I actually started off looking for a quote about the past because I've been thinking a bit about love, and about the past, and how that shapes us. I did find one that I like:

“You can clutch the past so tightly to your chest that it leaves your arms too full to embrace the present.”

~ Jan Glidewell

Again, so true. In my endless climb towards becoming a wife, I think about that. What kind of things am I holding onto so tightly from the past that they are dragging behind me like the weight of a thousand years. Today I thought of something. It's a silly little notion that was (again) perpetuated by foolishness in high school, compounded by lack of self-love, and solidified by a jaded heart. The notion is the idea of being second best.

Yep, second best, number two, second fiddle, second banana...not first. More often that not, I have felt like a second when it comes to love. Why? Like I said, it all started in high school. I remember having a crush on a boy, we would often talk and we got along well. I remember a school dance where he asked me to be his partner for one song. I was so excited - this is a HUGE thing to a teenage girl. I remember being very excited. Then my views were shattered - he had asked me to dance because he wanted to ask me about my good friend. "Is ____ single? I really like her!" Ha! As if that were the end of it, he ended up dating that girl. Then after that, he was friends with me again. One day he called me up; I was excited - was this a possibility? Nope. He wanted to know all about my best friend this time. Ugh. That was the start. I was the lamp. (See the Nov 8th post here to get what I mean).

This stupid situation coupled with years of hearing "You'd be a great girlfriend, but I don't want to date you" and a few "kinda-sorta-dating-but-not-really" moments managed to tear a strip off of me. Somehow I let myself believe that that's all I was worth. Maybe I really am nothing special. Maybe I'm just meant to play the part of lamp/friend/subordinate. Maybe.

God, I sure hope not. But as Julia Roberts says in Pretty Woman, "Sometimes the bad stuff is easier to believe". It's sad but true. And I believed it.

Luckily, I've managed to get out of the mindset a bit more when it comes love. I'm a child of God. God loves me. That MORE HUGE than any boy. I am worthy of love, and I deserve to be treated well. But it is the latter that seems to not want to sit quite right in my head just yet. Somewhere in my subconcious I have let myself care about the wrong people in the wrong ways. In the end, instead of feeling liberated in love, I feel burdened, choked up and full of glass splinters. And it sucks. Because it is this poison that stops me from finding the right kind of love and I believe I've got a lot of it to give.

Maybe instead of playing second fiddle I need to work hard enough on my solo work so I can be featured on the front lines.

Maybe.

Trying to stay sane

Things are really busy lately. I've been out and about a lot, except for the last two night where I took some time for me, and worked on some much needed details for Freekout Tree-Point Oh. Last night was working on transportation, today was working on the Freekout CD (hence frustration below). Other frustration include finding out that Mac will only let me burn purchased iTunes 7 times. Not good when you want to make 15 CDs. Poo on that. Oh well, I'll figure out something.

I also made another CD mix as a gift. I'm really excited about that.

Oh, and tonight for dinner I made honey garlic chicken wings and rice - so good, seeing as I marinated the wings for 24 hrs. Just right. Mmm. Feels good to cook and to have some me time. Just imagine in less than a month I will be living alone.

Wow.

Epson can bite my ass.

I've never tried to do this before - print a CD on my printer - good thing because it clearly doesn't work. And apparently I'm not the only one who has issues with this feature and Epson printers. You figured things would actually work if they say that will.

Hmpf.

Epson, you stink.

Gah!

I got blitzed!

Tuesdays just got a little better. It turns out that you can steep in lovely therapeutic waters for only 35$ at Body Blitz Spa (at Bathurst and Adelaide). Wow. That's what Ericka and I did the other as a bonding experience. It was lovely. Not only was it good conversation - I mean, this is my best friend's future wife, she's gotta be great - but it was a really relaxing time. You enjoy the waters, but at the same time feel pampered and are surrounded by good stuff. You get robes and sandals, plus you can use all natural products afterwards when you're getting dressed. Lovely. I suggest you ladies check it out and get blitzed (sorry gents, it's a women's spa).

In fact, I know Ericka and I will go back. It's gonna be our girl time.